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So Iím sitting at a garage sale. Not a basic garage sale, but more skewed from a perspective that canít rightly be described without being there. There are the various tables with items that had meaning to someone, but none to me. Most striking of my surroundings happens to be a Komodo dragon. Seen from a multifaceted perspective, I lose meaning as the focus.

An old man sinks to his knees and bursts into tears. Before him is the mangled body of what is only assumed to be his granddaughter. The old man pleads with the Komodo dragon. In one swift motion, the dragon rips into the flesh at the old manís neck. As the old many lay dying, the Komodo dragon takes fight on wings that were absent seconds before.

Moments after his dying breath, the old man rises from the ground. With hydrogen madness in his eyes, he begins assailing the saleís other customers.

Flash forward.

Trapped inside the house, a small band of survivors cower in fear. Taking the point of view of a person once again, I lead a final rush against the zombies.

Flash forward.

Outside the small home, fists fly to ward off zombies that seem to be encroaching from every direction. Soon overcome by a large group, I am pushed to the ground. ďI could use a gun,Ē runs through my head.

Darkness. Red light. 2:38. ďWhy not go back?Ē

Spinning in a furious circle of gunfire, I unload at a hoard of zombies. Twin Desert Eagles blaze as I unload death into the creatures. Each shot is like a thunderclap, knocking another lifeless body to the ground. Their bodies donít seem to pile up, but they are held back at enough of a distance that I am untouched. A friend nearby hasnít been as lucky. One got through to him and had taken a bite of his left arm. Had to stop the infection before it got to his soul. I use a small, metallic instrument to reverse the infection out of the gouge in his arm.

The circle has become smaller. Several break through and tackle me. Lying on my back below a pile of zombies, I unload both guns into the bodies crushing me to the ground. The shrieks as bullets tear through their flesh are overwhelming. Iím blankly aware that Iím going to die.


Drowning in an ocean of water. I canít tread water under good circumstances. My vision is dark except for the water. I begin to sink.

Darkness. Red light. 4:16. My neck hurts.


The following comments are for "Only in Dreams"
by ClaytonMattix

Is he dreaming?

( Posted by: whitewolfe [Member] On: December 31, 2004 )

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