Another descriptive blurb: this one shows what happens to dreamers that find themselves in Stick Canyon.
It didn't take long for night to fall over the jagged, desolate planes of Stick Canyon. The surrounding mountains of nailed-down iron and steel allowed the sun one final blinding glint before completely fading from the construction site's premises. The usual whirring and rhythmic clanging from magnetized machinery had ceased. One might describe the site in a jovial and delighted tone if they were observing it in broad daylight. However, now amidst the bleak darkness of the night, there was hardly anything charming about it.
Nighttime was not uncommon in the dream world; it all really depended on whose dream was being projected on the immediate surroundings. Some people subconsciously preferred night settings. This particular dreamer seemed to enjoy the quiet surroundings immensely. They settled down at the foot of a large chain-linked structure that housed, for some reason, three elevators in one chute and countless jagged screws protruding from the top of the well. The wind blew down from the surrounding mountains and a serene air fell across the rolling landscape.
A sudden banging sound, as if a bit of metal had fallen from one of the many layered structures rang out and echoed between the metal surfaces. This caught the attention of the dreamer who now stood up abruptly. He said not a word, but continued to dutifully listen for any continuation of the unwelcome intrusion on his dream. A single bolt rolled down one of the curved metal hills that seemed to be nailed down lest it float away. Perhaps just a fluke, he leaned back against the linked fence once more and rested his head on the cool metal.
His jacket was immediately pulled tight around his neck as something seemingly tried to rip him back through the thick wire mesh. The dreamer panicked and reached behind him, his legs flailing out as the cloth squeezed at his windpipe. His fingers groped nothing but metal and a collection of strange, hard daggers. They were firmly attached through the fibers of his hoodie. With a final desperate jerk, he heard the rip of fabric and fell forward away from the mysterious grasp.
He didn't want to look behind him, afraid of what he might behold. A low, hissing chuckle only deepened his fears.
The eyes of the creature reflected a faint blue in the moonlight, they were thin and condescending, only a slit where pupils should be. Just beside the eyes, a contorted, twisting pair of red and black canvas tails rested, attached to the thing's head like a hat. Its mouth was like a carved gash in the trunk of a tree. It resembled a beak, but flat and rimmed with black. It seemed to peel back along the thing's face. As it did, uneven rows of misshapen teeth were revealed. Whatever the thing was, it knew the boy was scared, and enjoyed this knowledge immensely, which consequently only worsened the dreamer's predicament.
It was at this time that the boy found it was in his best interest to run, he did so in hopes that he'd be able to lose the thing on foot, seeing as it would take some time to climb out of the chain-link well it had been lurking in. To his immediate dismay, a quick look over his shoulder revealed a flaw in his initial plan. It could fly.
The dreamer redoubled his efforts to escape but his efforts were in vain as he felt four knife-like claws dig into his shoulder. He was thrown down against the metal ground violently. The pain in his shoulder didn't seem real, it was like he was experiencing it from a long distance away, but the sensation still crippled him. He could only shiver in a cold sweat as the creature emitted another low, hissing chuckle and twisted its embedded talons.
Reala manipulated his fingers in the dreamer's flesh until he found what he was looking for. With a deliberate jerk, he withdrew a strange glimmer from the boy's body. It was pure green and seemed to drip with light. Reala's eyes shone in the light it constantly emitted. He grinned his terrible grin once more and closed his claws around the ideya, it vanished into his grip. He then turned his attention back to the dreamer that should've been under his feet. The kid was running back to the construction site. Fool.
Whatever that thing had been, it left him with a horrible feeling of dread and a numbing sensation that was spreading through his body. The injury hurt only in theory, as most injuries sustained while dreaming do, but it still made him feel uneasy. He managed to climb up one of the multi-layered chain-link towers before the numbness began affecting his motor skills. He nearly fell forward onto the steel roof of the structure and rolled over only to see that grinning, horrific thing hovering just a few feet above him. He scrambled backwards only to find he was inches away from plummeting back down to the metal floor of the site. A flash of yellow and the dreamer once again found himself wincing from a distant agony.
Reala's claws dug straight into the dreamer's chest, he closed his fist and jerked out once again holding an incorporeal bit of light, this one glowed yellow. The very instant the light was forcefully torn from the boy's body; he felt an immense chill settle over him. The numb sensation claimed his legs now and he collapsed at the foot of the striped creature. One final gaze was all it gave him the luxury of before a firm nudge sent his expressionless body over the edge and into a five story plunge.
He would wake up soon, a little worse for the wear, but alive. He wouldn't be able to return to the dream world again, though. His ideya now gone, an eternity of dreamless unimaginative nights awaited him. Reala simply laughed and returned to his throne to await the next hapless dreamer to stumble across his domain.