Writing Prompt: Dreamscape

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

For one of your characters, write about

1. A typical dream they have.
2. A recurring nightmare.
or
3. A daydream.

Try to make it detailed and emotive. Remember, dreams are usually manifestations of fears, subconscious thoughts, or current feelings. [urlhttp://www.dreammoods.com/dreamdictionary]Here[/url] is a great resource for symbolism in dreams and moods in case you wanted a little extra depth in your character's dream.

[JANE EYRE]

2. A recurring nightmare.

There was a breeze, light, almost tickling. Jane pushed her hair behind her ear and closed her eyes. It was that dream again she thought vaguely, opening her eyes and looking around.

All around her, empty fields. Every so often, a large, craggy rock dotted the landscape but otherwise it was barren. It was lonely. Her hands left her hair, leaving it to whip and tangle about her head, in order to pull on her night shift. Why was she standing in the middle of nowhere in her night dress? It made no sense.

A gust surged, throwing dirt and dead leaves at Jane's bare legs, her unprotected feet skirting over rocks and dust to find a hold. Jane closed her eyes and tilted her head away from the wind, letting out a pathetic whimper of fear.

She was alone, so dreadfully alone.

The wind died down and again Jane looked around, this time a bit more desperate. She needed to find shelter of some sort. Off in the distance she could vaguely see the outline of Thornfield. With no other structures near, Jane started to walk back to her old home. It was so slow going, her tender feet slipping and cutting open on rocks and sticks. Stumbling and tripping every so often, Jane's hands and knees soon matched her soles, torn and bloody, muddy from the dirt that stuck to her perspiration. It hurt and Jane didn't notice when she began to cry. Soft whimpers and sobs were eaten by the wind, the sound of misery being erased completely by nature.

And no matter how long she walked, Thornfield never got any closer.

"Please...Mr. Rochester...Edward..." Jane moaned hoarsely, the wind having stolen her voice as well. No one answered her, no one ever did, and she stumbled again, falling to her knees, then forward onto her chest.

Her whole body hurt, there was a rock digging into her rib cage, but Jane couldn't muster the energy to move. To tired to do anything, Jane laid in the dirt, letting the gale crash over her again and again.

Her eyes slipped shut.

A thundering in the ground forced Jane's eyes open and she turned her head, weaker than a kitten, and stared at what was approaching. Horses...and their riders. 8 of them. As they neared, Jane could make out all of their faces. Monte Cristo, Edward, Lady de Bourgh, Claudius, Lucy, Mrs. Reed, Adele, Blanche...they circled her poor, pitiful form and stared down, their horses pawing the ground restlessly.

None of them spoke, they just stared at her and Jane turned her face into the ground. Just an interesting bit of road kill, that's all she was. They were going to sit there and watch her wither away. Her skin was already burnt and blistered from the sun, her hands and feet scabbed and paralyzed from damage.

She was nothing. She was going to die surrounded by people who aren't going to raise a hand. She was a convenient companion when she was well but not worth the trouble when she was weak.

Somehow, knowing she wasn't going to die completely isolated in the wilderness was comforting. Even if they were there for their own amusement, it made Jane calm. Her eyes slipped shut again, waiting now, focusing on each dry, dusty breath.

She had given up. Jane Eyre was no more.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

For some reason, nightmares are just more interesting, haha.

#2. Peter’s Nightmare

It starts out simply. He’s doing something he had done every day of his young life – sitting on the back of a horse, overlooking the north pasture. Horses were peacefully gazing, and the sound of cows was drifting from the next knoll over. Everything was calm, peaceful. It felt like home.

Softly, he hears his name being called, turning to see his father walking towards him. It’s odd – his father is always riding a big, black horse in his day to day dealings on the ranch. He notices as his father gets closer, the clouds roll in and his father looks more menacing with every step. He slips off the back of his own horse, clutching the reins for safety. When his father is within feet of him, his painted horse tugs the reins away, running. He has the urge to do the same. But it’s his father. His father has never hurt him or made him feel like he had anything to be afraid of.

Suddenly, his father grabs his bad arm, tugging him forward. Thankfully there is no pain. He doesn’t know this man looking down at him. It’s his father, but not. His father snarls, causing Peter to cower and wonder what was happening. He’s tugged, running to keep up with his father’s giant steps. They’re climbing higher and higher, to the top of Chief Mountain. Standing on the flat top of the holy place, his father looks at him again.

He doesn’t say a word, but Peter knows he’s being disowned. It happened years ago, but it feels fresh and Peter desperately grabs at his father, silently begging to be accepted. His father only looks grim, hefting him up like he’s still five years old, and holding him out over the abyss. Below he hears the cries of hungry wolves, and his breath turns into frightened gasps. The monster inside his father’s skin smiles.

It feels like he’s falling in slow motion, watching the sky grow farther away, arms flailing, but not grasping anything. Before he can hit the ground, he’s being bitten. His skin is tearing away piece by piece and he can’t catch his breath to scream at the feeling. He just lets it happen. When he feels like nothing more than bones picked clean, he looks up into the glowing eyes of a wolf. It grins down at him, his bones tremble, and then he’s being swallowed up completely.

And it’s not until he wakes in his own bed that the urge to scream pulls a strangled noise from his throat, eerily reminding him of a dying animal.