Tuesday, June 21, 2005

   PART III B
** NAMELESS TIDBITS BELOW

I'm going to be busy the next few days. My mom has found our dream home, I'm moving tons of stuff into storage, and still doing lots of needed odd jobs to get the house ready to sell, so I'm going to wait until some have a chance to get up to speed on my Nameless Dream Story, finish up Part 4, and get this stuff done.

To those of you who have been with me through the very beginning-

YOU GUYS ARE SO AWESOME TO SAY SUCH NICE THINGS!!! I LOVE YOU ALL! ^-^ Thank you from the bottom of my tiny heart!

BUT! THERE'S MORE!!

I have left you a little something like...and 'aftermath' part that some might find interesting...to keep you guys going until Part 4 is complete..


**After Part III of the dream, I began to grow concerned that maybe I was losing my mind, or that something was wrong with me. I woke up covered in sweat, and graciously not blood, but it still did me little comfort.
I couldn’t go to my parents about what weird dream experience I was having, they just wouldn’t understand. So I went to the only person I thought could aid me:
Mr. Randolf Sillorian
A living reincarnation of a Hippie Gandalf
A Master Alchemist
And…

My Creative Writing Teacher.

I made an appointment to eat lunch with him, which I did on occasion ‘cause the man was just so darn awesome. He rode a motorcycle to school and had a gray ponytail and his classroom was practically a wizard’s lair. No seriously, there were light up gothic torches, bubbling cauldrons, strange lights and dragon statues, bookshelves filled with old texts, and even jars of ‘strange oddities’, runes painted into the walls, the guy even had several of the walls decorated like castle walls! Totally the best teacher in the world…

In the semi darkness of Master Sillorian’s Lair (That’s what I called him: Master Sillorian) I sat in the blue Suicide chair (that‘s what we called it b/c it was broken and would lean back too far and tip over if one was not careful) slowly making myself eat my favorite school dish: spaghetti, extra rolls and steamed broccoli. Master Sillorian sat in his high backed, red velvet, black trimmed chair, complete with a scowling dragon skull etched in the crest of the chair, eating what appeared to be….Ramen noodles hinted with seasoned chicken chunks, and maybe green tea?.
I munched on my broccoli:

“…then I woke up sweating like a whore in church.”

I finished sipping my Styrofoam cup filled with ice tea.
Master did the same with his oriental tea-cup filled with a dark green liquid then put it back on the saucer,
“Fascinating! You actually read the language of the Ancients in your dream?”
“Well, I guess so. I knew somehow that it was Latin, and I could translate it, but I couldn’t tell you what the exact words were.”
“These…messages that ‘he’ left for you-” he inquired. “what did they say?”
“Oh! I wrote them down..” I said digging into my pocket and handed it across the mahogany desk to him. “Here…”
He took the paper and read swiftly his eyes alighting, then he asked me something odd,” This Kale, in your dream. Would he happen to be the Kale that so fancies you from the third row?”
I blushed, “Well, not exactly, but….it is the same Kale.” (I dated a guy named Alec, and his chosen name was Kale, but he was my Kale. How I miss him…)
Master Sillorian placed the paper down on the desk and took up his tea again, his face set in thought.
I looked at him hopefully, “Master…is there anything that you can make of all this?”
He gestured to me with the cup, “Why do you think this creature- this demon stalks you in your subconscious?”
“I can definitely, he’s NOT from my subconscious. I have never seen anything that grotesque.” I frowned. “I am uncertain… I just wish I knew what it wants…”
Master nodded slightly and laid the cup to rest and leaned back in his chair,
“Well, let’s count what we do know. Three nights in a row you have been assailed by these experiences, three times every person you tried to aid was pulled beyond your reach, three times he came so close to you, but made no attempt to claim you as he had done so many others. He has manipulated and lead you into one torment after another, but… you already know what he plans to do.”
I looked up at hi with a mouth full of noodles and meat sauce, swallowed hard and then muttered, “ I do?…”
Master tapped the paper with the poems, “ Do you know why you are called Serrafina, by those in your dreams, and have you thought of seeking out its meaning?”
“Actually, I never really thought of it, I just thought the name was really pretty.” ^-^
“Ah,” he mused placing the tips of his fingers together, “ Do you know the Ancient language, pupil?”
“I’ve thought about taking Latin, but apart from the hyms I sing in church, and what I read on the dollar bill…no…” (I’m Roman Catholic by the way ^^)
And Master smiled, “This demon is not hunting you, student, it’s working for you.”
Oo “- what?” I said
Light twinkled in my Master’s eyes as he spoke with clarity and eager intent:
“You are his Hand of Fate, my student. He leads you to these places, where, unintentionally, you chose his victims. The art thieves, the jogger…. He is gathering them in for the final ritual on the night of the Red Harvest moon, which is two nights from this very moment! The Latin messages that he leaves, the red moon, the sacrificial killings he commits - coincides with the turning of the Summer Solstice! Even your name is bound to this….’The Angel will come…the angel, my heart, the purest soul’….for the Latin word for angel is -…
“… Seraphim...”
My eyes widened,” Seraphim…Serrafina! Then, I’m-”
“Yes, my student!” he leaned forward. “You are the Angel of which he speaks.”
O sat there for a moment and thought…
“Yet, if I am his prize, Master Sillorian… why has he not taken me?”
“Maybe you are not the ultimate goal,..” he relaxed in the chair. “Perhaps that both of your are merely tools for someone else’s dark designs? These questions are uncertain.”
“Then what can I do? How do I defeat this demon?
Then my Master’s face darkened, “ That…is a task for you to face, my student.”
My face fell slightly.
“But,” he said. “If you do not face him tonight or before the summit of the Blood Moon, it will be too late.”
“And what if I cannot fight him?”
At this my Master smiled, “Run….and pray that he doesn’t catch you before you wake up. Or…hit him with a really big stick.”
Me: O~O
Master: Would you like some Ramen? ^-^


NOTE, NOTE: After my meeting with Master Sillorian, I went to the Media Center and began scouring the card catalogue, and the internet in search of demon names, preferable names pertaining to demons that thrived on butchery. I felt that if I had some background on this thing, I could find an easy way of bringing it down and keep true to my promise - of putting my boot in his ass. Yet, my initial search turned up nothing consistent or even close to what I was looking for. As the day began to fade into night, my soul wavered. I felt there would be one more bout, one more near miss before ….

…..before the rising of the Red Harvest Moon….

Comments (2)