A Remnant Dream
(Nightmare mythology)
I lie awake on this tenebrific night urging my oppressive mind to recall a peculiar set of words that, according to my deteriorating memory, had certain value. With every second gone by I am endowed a renewed sense of an impending verdict, upon which my downfall becomes evident to the vigilant eyes of death. There was something about the darkness, the shadows they were pulsating and amassing upon an invisible barrier, that depleted from their attacks until eventually it withered away. I had not a single deterrence left against my nameless foe. The swelling of shadows continued to ripple and fluctuate until they formed a single entity; it imposed upon me an image raw dominance, the capability to consume what essence of life I possessed. With great effort I managed to uphold my mind from the demonic figure, because if I were to remember the sliver of knowledge that had eluded me thus far, I would be able to triumph. The demon was advancing on me, slowly he walked but determined to reach his goal, with a final effort I cast out my mind and grasped the fleeting words, and as soon as I had done so the knowledge seeped into me and I knew how to defeat my adversary. I coughed out the words quickly but carefully, as not to make a mistake. I had spoken the words yet I was losing consciousness, everything was fading rapidly, I could see only barley yet the room had gained light, as if a great evil was lifted from it, and with relief I allowed myself to release all sensibility and fell into a deep restful sleep. The nightmare was over.
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