I woke up this morning in the middle of a dream, which is rather unusual for me. It was also a rather complex one with a story to it, so I thought I’d write it up. This is more or less the narrative as I recall, with only a few places I had to fill in missing pieces.

It was early and it was already hot outside. I could see the sun glaring in through the window, and the house was already getting hot. Putting a glass under the faucet and turning it on rewarded me only with a drop of water. “Josh!” I called out accusingly to my housemate, “Did you use up all the water again? I told you, no more baths!”

“I’m not even up yet, I haven’t used anything.”

Grumbling inwardly, I went outside to check on the well. I knew something was wrong immediately: the pump was running, but didn’t sound right, like there was no load on it. Opening the top, it was dry. I switched it off and went back inside.

“The well’s dry,” I said, somewhat dejected. “There’s no more water.” The drought had taken its toll, and we both knew this day was coming.

“There’s a water delivery coming in today,” he said, “A train arrives this afternoon, downtown.”

I nodded and began to gather containers. It was a long walk to the station, and we’d have to leave soon.

As we got to the station, we walked along a narrow path. On one side was a steep bank leading up to the elevated tracks. On the other were old warehouses, mostly empty now. It was oddly quiet here. We’d expected a rush of people all wanting water, but it was nearly deserted. “Everyone must already be at the station,” I said. “We better hurry.”

As we started running we could hear the rumble of the large diesel engines behind us. The train ran by on the tracks above, tank after tank full of water. We paused a moment, looking at the train pass, astonished just how much water it was bringing in. As one of the cars passed, something wasn’t right, though: One of the wheels was at an odd angle, as if it had broken its axle. What happened next almost seemed in slow motion: the wheel jumped around on the track, clearly a dangerous situation, eventually jumping entirely off.

Slowly, the car turned to an angle, its rear wheels also falling free. The train slowly began to derail directly above us, with buildings on the other side, trapping us in. “This is bad,” I said to Josh, “we need to get out of here.” We turned back the way we came, hoping to reach safety, as the train slowly began to tumble down the side of the berm.

The sound was intense, metal on metal, grinding and scraping, as the train fell. We both ran, as fast as we could, back the way we came, the falling train just on our heels. As I passed the final car, still moving forward even as it started to topple, I slowed. “We made it,” I said, exhausted.

Josh wasn’t with me, though. I turned, looking back at the rubble behind me. Twisted metal was everywhere, water spilling from broken tanks. It was eerily quiet, as the train came to a rest. I called out Josh’s name, to no answer. Was he buried under that wreckage, somewhere far behind.

Voices came from the wreck, after a moment, though. Someone lived! I moved toward it, but stopped short: The metal was sharp and looked dangerous. The voices continued, and I called out.

A head raised from the wreckage, but nothing about it was human. It was vaguely canine, black flesh with evil, red eyes. I took a few steps back, heart racing. The hounds were here; that’s why it was so deserted!

(This is exactly the form I saw in the dream: http://www.milesteves.com/gallery/v.....d+-52.jpg.html )

As the beast growled, a grin crossing his inhuman face, I took off running. I sprinted away from the hellish creature, hearing him make chase behind me. He called out, both to his companions to join the hunt in a rough, animal-like voice.

Somehow, I made it to my house. Perhaps I was stronger than I thought, or perhaps the demons were just toying with me. I slammed the door behind me, though had little belief that would hold them off. I could hear them outside, growling, clawing at the siding. One cried out in English, taunting me, telling me these weak walls wouldn’t keep them out long.

The front door creaked as one threw himself at it and I ran into the back of the house just as it gave way to a second lunge. I hid in the small bathroom off my bedroom, lights off, in the remote hope they wouldn’t find me. I listened in horror as they ransacked through the house, destroying it in their search for me.

They reached the bedroom, presumably tracking my scent and I began to panic. I was trapped in a small room, the beasts just on the other side of the door. There was a window outside, but it was small. I opened it, trying to squeeze through the opening, just as the door crashed open, the beasts diving in upon me.

And that’s where I awoke… I think I’ll finish it up, though, in a way which I can approve of. :)

I felt one’s jaws closing around a leg, my escape cut short. Brutally, I was dragged away from the window, onto the floor. The pain was intense, but worse as more tore into me with their teeth, carrying me out of the small room, into the bedroom. They threw me onto the bed, blood pouring from the wounds they’d made.

I looked to the monsters; there were only three of them, it seemed, and they were resting by the bed, faces covered in blood, both my own and others’, probably including Josh. The one in the center, the largest one, grinned as he stared at me.

“We have come to take you home, master.”

Those were the last words I heard before they descended upon me, tearing me to pieces.

As I lean back in my throne now, he sits to my right. My own clawed hand rests between his ears, my wings folded behind me. My hooves tap on the ground as a small human cowers before me. I tap the Hell Hound’s back, sending him toward the sacrifice, and watch with a grin as he and his companions carry out their gruesome task.

“You have served me well, my pets.”