Alrighty! So, this whole thing will be different dreams of Mattes Tunstall's... they'll vary, from nightmares (there might be a fair bit of them, they're so much easier! XD), to absolutely strange visions that don't make so much sense (that's the kind that I always get...).
Have fun!
Mattes Tunstall rolled over in his sleep. His brows came together over his closed, deep-set eyes, and his mouth tightened in a small frown. He was dreaming- and very vividly, too….
In his mind's eye, Tunstall was standing in his bedroom, stretching the morning stiffness from his limbs. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head briskly. There was something strange bothering him. All of his senses were tingling, and he wasn't sure why. It was almost like he was on duty, which he wasn't; he wasn't even outside. He was in his own bedroom, safe… right?
After a moment of fruitlessly trying to shake off the creeping feeling, Tunstall strode quickly over to a window and stuck his head out of it. What he saw made him go numb with shock.
Flames were licking their way along outside, heedless of what was burnable and what wasn't. Tunstall withdrew his head sharply and sprinted out of the room.
Just as he was about to step outside, however, a reprimanding voice rang through his head. It said sternly, "Mattes! What are you doing? You have to go water your flowers before you leave!" Without thinking, Tunstall turned around to obey the voice. After all, it sounded rather like Clary Goodwin.
He rushed back into the building, his long legs a blur. He slid into the bedroom, panting slightly, water in hand. He glanced at the nearest flower box- and froze. The container of water crashed to the floor. Ignoring the water now seeping slowly across the floor, Tunstall continued to gaze in fascinated horror at his flowers, his brown eyes wide and fearful.
Fire was creeping towards the flowers along the edge of the box, crackling out its laughter. As Tunstall watched helplessly, a tongue of flame reached out to a tiny rose. Within seconds, that perpetually hungry, sparking beast that they call fire had consumed the little flower.
Broken out of his paralyzed state by the murder of his flower (for yes, Mattes considered this tragedy nothing less than a most terrible murder), Tunstall took a lurching step forward, wanting to do something- anything- to spare the rest of his beloved blooms from the same fate that their fellow had just fallen to. However, before he could try anything, a spurt of flame shot up before him, obscuring his path with the hissing, twisting fames… and he saw no more.
Tunstall woke up, drenched in a cold sweat, with the image of the dancing flames still burned into the turmoil of his mind.
OK, so this one was sort of based of one of my own dreams- I was escaping my burning house, but my dad said that I had to go back to feed the rabbit. Only, that one wasn't much of a nightmare, but I figured that this would be a little more interesting this way... hope you liked it, and please review!
The next one should will be interesting- an experience in our world, from my memories.... ^_^
Oh, and thanks to my wonderful beta- Squeaky, from the Coffee Toffee Twisted Froste crew. Squeaks, you're SO much better than you think!!!
Cheers!
~Freedom of Thought