ok *cracks knuckles* here goes.

DREAM 1

when we first moved to my childhood home, the house was already kinda old. (it used to belong to my dad’s boss) the house already had a couple of furniture including some beds, dining set etc. Except for the bedroom, the rest aren’t really important so here’s a little sketch of a part of the house’s floor plan

we turned the smaller bedroom into a guest room and the bigger bedroom into a kids’ room so we moved the bed to storage and replaced it with a bunch of smaller beds. 

Anyway, one of the first nights, I had a dream where I was standing in the bigger bedroom with a bunch of people in uniform. The big bed was back where it was but there’s a pool of blood in it. I overheard one of the cops mentioning something about a body not being found. Suddenly, I looked at the open door and saw the mirror in the guest room. In the reflection, there was a girl lying on the floor staring at me.

DREAM 2

For some reason, I was standing in the laundry room. I heard someone say “hey” and when I turned around, someone was hiding behind one of the clothes. 

DREAM 3

The cops were back, walking around in my bedroom. The girl wasn’t there. I realized I was late for class so I ran outside. The street was littered with mutilated hands. 

Remember I mentioned there was a large old tree in front of our house? It more or less looked like this: 

I used to be scared of it especially at night because it looked like a giant hand in the darkness. Behind it was a wall and on the other side of the wall was a river. I always wondered what the river looked like but I never found until I was in high school and I was finally tall enough to see the other side (while standing on a chair). 

Anyway, it was summer vacation and I had a dream where I was in my room. The girl was outside standing on the roof peeking through my window and was calling me to come outside. We went to the tree and I noticed the tree now looked like it was split in half. There was no wall but just a vast expanse of water as far as the eye can see. 

Near our house was an old factory. I used to hang out there with my other friends until our parents forbade us cause it was dangerous (obviously). One night, I dreamed I was walking by the factory and I heard someone call me from way above on the factory rooftop. She was sitting there by a really long ladder and urged me to climb on top. 

When I reached the roof, suddenly there was just a land of rooftops that stretched towards the horizon. I followed her into a rooftop window which lead to the inside of the factory. Inside were just some machinery and a pier leading to the ocean in my last dream.  There was a large chain (the ones you see on large ships) attached to the pier leading to something that looks like another factory in the horizon.  She mentioned something about going there by walking on the chain but then I woke up.

this wasn’t really much of a dream but more like a dream where you’re awake?? I’m not sure what you call it. I was just under the sheets and I heard her whispering close to my ear that my mom is heading to my room and that I should get up soon. 

You get your insides ripped open but your friend waves his hands and your flesh just pulls back together, agony and evisceration pulling back to a ‘kinda hurts’ level of pain and you’re physically whole, with the 100% expectation that you’ll get back up and keep fighting whatever it was that struck you down the first time.

You break your arm after falling somewhere and after you’re healed instead of looking for ‘another way around’ everybody just looks at you and goes “okay try again”.

You’ve been fighting for hours, you’re hungry, thirsty, bleeding, crying from exhaustion, and a hand-wave happens and only two of those things go away. you’re still hungry, you’re still weak from thirst, but the handwave means you have ‘no excuse’ to stop.

You act out aggressively maybe punch a wall or gnash your teeth or hit your head on something and it’s hand-waved because it’s ‘such a small injury you probably can’t even feel it anymore’ but the point was that you felt it at all?

Your pain literally means nothing because as long as you’re not bleeding you’re not injured, right? Here drink this potion and who cares about the emotional exhaustion of that butchered village, why are you so reserved in camp don’t you think it’s fun retelling that time you fell through a burning building and with a hand-wave you got back up again and ran out with those two kids and their dog? 

Older warriors who get a shiver around magic-users not because of the whole ‘fireball’ thing but the ‘I don’t know what a normal pain tolerance is anymore’ effect of too much healing. Permanent paralysis and loss of sensation in limbs is pretty much a given in the later years of any fighter’s life. Did I have a stroke or did the mage just heal too hard and now this side of my face doesn’t work? No i’m not dead from the dragon’s claws but I can’t even bend my torso anymore because of how the scar tissue grew out of me like a vine.

Magical healing is great and keeps casualties down.

But man.

So after years of fighting, your skin is still perfect. Unmarred. In fact, you’re actually in better shape than regular people who don’t get magical healing when they fall out of trees or walk into doors or cut themselves while cooking dinner. You’re in such good shape that it’s unnatural.

And the really good healing magic takes away more than just the obvious injuries. You first start noticing it after about ten years when you go home and haha, you look the same age as your younger sibling, that’s funny.

Not so funny ten years later when they look older. Or forty years later, when you bury them still looking like you did at twenty. When do you retire from this gig anyway? How much damage is too much damage?

How many times do you glimpse the afterlife, or worse, how many times don’t you? What do you live through, get used to, show no outward sign of except a perfectly healthy body, too perfect for any person living a real life.

How many times are you sitting in a tavern with your friends and you hear the whispers, because the people around you know. How can they not know? Your weapons shine with enchantments and your armour is better than the best money can buy and there is not a damn scar on you. You hardly seem human to them.

How long before you hardly seem human to yourself?

And you find yourself struggling to remember the places where the scars should have been, phantom pains that wake you screaming, touching all the old injuries and finding nothing there. It’s all in your head. Was it ever anywhere else?

How long before you’re fighting a lich or a vampire or some other undead monster and you wonder…

tu yeetes

il/elle/on yeet

nous yeetons

vous yeetez

Killer: I’m coming to kill you as soon as I find your house addre-