The Spirit

The black void of sleep fades in an instant. My sightless body becomes corporeal. I look around the dreamscape I am now in.

A boiler room? Quite a detailed one as well.

In fact, everything here is way too detailed. I can feel the heat radiating off the machinery, can see scrapes on the metal. I can feel myself start to sweat from the heat. I can feel my mask and gloves as if I was actually here. The floor below my boots feels like an actual metal floor.

This is something like Luna would be able to do, but this isn't work. If it was, it would be a grassy field or something else like that.

*Bang!*

I hear a very loud crashing noise in the distance, and a deep and guttural voice laughs out, “Let’s make this one a fastball, bitch!”

I then see a body come flying down my way. I squeeze myself against a boiler as it flies past me, and impales itself on a piece of metal.

I look at it, and see it is the zombie from outside. The thing looks down at the piece of metal going through him, and pulls himself off it. His hockey masked face then snaps right to me. He tilts his head in a very animalistic way, as if assessing my nature. He flicks out his machete, and starts to approach me slowly.

Or, he was. It is harder for him to move when he was impaled by a pole from above. He looks down at the pole, before looking to it’s origin. Standing on top of a boiler is a man, wearing a red and green striped shirt, and a fedora on top of a heavily scarred face.

The thing impaled by the pole takes a swing at him with his machete, but he just laughs, “You can’t kill dreams, Jason! But this dream’s gonna kill you!”

The newly named Jason rips the pole out of his body, and turns to face me. He raises his machete into the air.

He’s about to bring it down when the man on the boiler exclaims, “What is that? He’s not supposed to be here!”

It seems Jason hesitates for a second when he hears that, giving me enough time to push him away. He staggers away, before seemingly stealing his decision to kill me. He raises his machete again.

Only, he’s interrupted when a bucket of water is splashed on him. Actually, not water, gasoline. A match is thrown onto him, setting him on fire. The fedora wearing man jumps down, and slaps Jason across the room, “I’ll deal with you later, bitch.”

I look as the hulk of a man is sent flying, before looking back at the fedora wearing man, “What is going on? Who are you?”

He leans against a boiler, clicking finger-knives against it, “Well, I was teaching Jason here about respecting his betters. The bitch had the audacity to kill me when I saved him. Then, you interrupted.” He leans off it, and approaches me, “Who the hell are you who can intrude in my world?”

I ready one hand near my knife, “Survivor. I was sent to Earth to find technology. Now, I’m freeing any who are still alive. I don’t know how I ended up here, but I can offer you a trip to a safe place, a different world.”

He narrows his eyes, “Another world, you say? Do the people on this planet sleep?”

I nod, “That they do.”

He slowly nods, “Alright, I’ll come along. I’m Freddy, Freddy Krueger. Pleasure to meet you, Survivor.”

He offers me a sharp hand, but I take it, “Same.”

He smiles a very sick smile, “Now, I have a bitch to teach lessons to. So, you can leave.”

I nod, and the entire room fades into the black void of sleep again.