Darkness… fear… pain… John Smith pondered these things as he lay on his bed, enveloped in the darkness of night. He couldn't get the thoughts out of his mind. They were sharks that smelled blood and sensed his fear, feeding off it. They swam above and around his unguarded mind, patiently, almost heavenly. They had all the time in the world. There was no rush. John Smith was theirs for another long night and they refused to leave until they engraved themselves into his mind. The he slowly melted away into a state of unconsciousness…
The thoughts seem to dissolve into oblivion as he melted away as he descended farther and farther into a bottomless abyss. Everything was gone. Johnny had left one world and entered another, a world of silence and darkness. A world with no boundaries, no limits. For once, Johnny felt like he had gotten away. The world was a thousand miles away, and all the worries and troubles he faced every day, hour and second of his life were gone. He had no visions, no world to save; it was just him. Alone. Little did he know that this moment of silence was only the eye of the storm.
Out of the darkness, a deep rumbling emerged. At first it was faint, distant. But then the sound gradually grew louder until it was deafening, scream-like. The sound was drowning him; it seemed to have no origin. Then the rumbling seemed to hit a brick wall. It stalled back into the faint, distant rumbling it started out as. Then the rumbling grew louder, but its pitch was deeper than the first and its approach was swift. Then it ended with a huge whoosh.
Then there was silence and an eerie stillness that hung in the air. A new sound emerged from the darkness. It was low and steady and surrounded him. And then Johnny recognized the sound: fire. With a lightning flash, the darkness morphed into a nightmare, his nightmare. The image that haunted Johnny every day since the first time it was revealed to him. It was a reminder of his place in the world. Of his mission, his duty, his destiny. Before him was Washington D.C., rolling in flames and pillars of smoke.
The dark skies had never seemed so close. The sky had fallen on this future nightmare. The smell of the dead hung in the air in the midst of smoke and fire. Sirens blared in the distance, screams of agony and desperation pierced the thick air. Flames continued to roll over the landscape as far as the eye can see, buildings came tumbling down like a heap of garbage one by one all over the once mighty capitol of the United States.
Air raid sirens filled the air. Gun shots fired followed by more screams. The city was devastated in one colossal blow by a missile that came screaming from the heavens. The world was turned upside down, pummeled into chaos. Mutilated bodies littered the burning streets, faces scared, bodies scorched.
All the sounds and images began swirling in his head. Like a tornado of fire and screams and pain. Of sorrow and chaos and sirens all tossed in a blender of torture roared recklessly in his mind, tearing his mind wide open. As all of his fears roared blended in horrible harmony, one distinct voice emerged and seemed to come from above. It was himself, in the not so distant future saying what he once told him in a vision, a vision that nearly knocked him into another coma. The voice roared above all the chaos, "Everything you're afraid of… happens."
Then it all died. Darkness once again dominated this barren landscape of unconsciousness. The only sound was a steady heartbeat. The heartbeat echoed in this chamber of nightmares. The heart beat suddenly was sent a flutter as the sound of Greg Stillson's sinister laughter suddenly emerged from the darkness. Then he began preaching, from an old speech, "…Because the day of reckoning is coming… Greg Stillson is coming to Washington!" The sound of applause now rose from the sea of darkness, increasing in loudness and intensity. The sound of his now racing heartbeat was nearly inhuman as the applause reached its climax and "Stillson! Stillson!" chants filled the air. Johnny was overwhelmed, surrounded in a sea of darkness and applause and chanting and the sound of Stillson's sinister laughter….
Johnny's eyes snapped abruptly open to the sound of a gun shot followed by that same darkness, and then silence. His breathing was ragged and his body was covered in sweat. The only sounds coming from the room were his breathing, his rapid heartbeat and the sounds of his nightmare echoing in his mind. The dreams had come from time to time, growing in intensity as Armageddon continued to come closer and closer with each passing day. He knew stopping Stillson would become more difficult as he ambitiously climbed the political ladder. His options would dwindle dramatically. He only hoped it didn't come to that final resort, but the day of reckoning was approaching quickly, and he had to stop it, before it's too late...