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“All right, describe the dream in detail. As much as you feel confident with.”


"Well, it starts off rather abrupt. I'm in the middle of this room, and it's a rather unusual room. There's hundreds, possibly thousands, of others in this room, but I can't make out any of their faces, only their eyes.

"There's a light murmur across the faceless crowd, which seems to repeat itself endlessly.

"It seems almost like I'm on a stage, but it appears very cold and impersonal. It's the opposite of a stage, really. No happiness or personality, only this constant feeling of… judgement? That doesn't seem like the right word, but it's all I can think of.

"I begin to approach the corridor, but I cannot see what lies ahead. Nothing about the place seems distinguishable, not even the ground I walk on.

"A figure becomes visible in the distance. At first, it appears familiar, and I begin walking toward it at a faster rate to look at it more clearly.

"As I go closer, the figure begins to more foreign. Its shape changes to something rather frightening, and I begin to back away. But the figure continues changing at a constant rate.

"Every inch of my body begins to tremor. My heart palpitates, my eye becomes dilated, and this- this massive wave of fear begins to spread across my body.

E-eventually, I get close enough to the figure to make out…

"…something.

"Something horrific.

"It's not distinct, but it still isn't pleasant.

"The fear that once pulsated through my body overtakes it, and I freeze.

"The figure begins to approach me, and I attempt to outrun it, but it still continues to follow me, and I notice that the murmurs and the crowd that gleamed at me begins dissolves, nay, melts into the darkness.

"Everything that had the slightest semblance of clarity begins to be consumed by darkness, to the point that I cannot even see the path ahead of me.

"I run faster and faster with each second for what seems like an eternity, only to fall into the darkness, with the figure approaching ever closer. I become overtaken with fear and let out a blood-curdling shriek that woke me up.

“Well, at least that’s what all of my roofmates called it.”

An air of silence falls across the room. The nightmare-ridden client breathes anxiously, lying down on a divan. Opposite him is an individual dressed in parsonical attire briskly taking down notes on a pad of glass-like silicate paper.

"Well then, Qutex, what do you make of this dream?", proclaims the dream analyzer.

"I don't know, that's what you’re here for! You’re the therapist!" says Qutex, shooting the therapist a distressed look.

"You’re an educated fellow, I don’t think it’s too hard of a dream for you to figure out. "

Qutex begins to look agitated. “Let me guess: this dream means that I have a fear of the dark – or a fear of the unknown rather, I mean I’m not five for Alouimz’ sake – and that I need to resolve this dream by going out in the world and facing my fears or learning a new trade or by burning down a distillery or something outlandish.”

“Sounds like you’ve dealt with this before. Have you attempted conquering these fears before?” asks the therapist with a concerned countenance.

“Yes, that’s not the problem. I’ve done all of that, I’ve seen the world, – I mean, I’m a colonial consul for crying out loud – and I’ve spent plenty of hours doing other trades on holiday.

“That’s not the issue.

“I’ve done everything I could to combat this – well, aside from burning down a distillery – but the dream still comes back to haunt me every now and again.

“And it’s not a one-time haunting, either. It comes every night for weeks, sometimes even months. I’ve had this nightmare since I was very young, and then it crippled me emotionally. The only thing that varies from night to night is how intensely I scream.

“It’s the entire reason I started seeing therapists in the first place.”

“Well, you know that all dreams have a purpose and meaning. I’d say that this dream is most certainly a product of the Dravatos forging your future. Perhaps you just haven’t encountered that life-changing moment yet.”

“So what you’re saying is I need to keep enduring this hell until I magically resolve this issue out of nowhere?”

“If you believe that to be so. Nothing is spontaneous, Qutex. Nothing occurs ‘out of nowhere’. When the time comes, you’ll know. Your nightmare and the life it has forged for you will have prepared you for that moment. Whenever it comes.”

Qutex looks at the therapist for a few moments, his face becoming more and more sour as he tries to cobble together a response.

“What a load of shit. I mean, honestly! I came here for answers, drugs, j-just  [b]something[/b] to end this suffering! And now I’m told it’s going to follow me until I drop dead, spontaneously popping in-and-out like an unwanted tumor or house guest or sprite, slowly whittling away my quality of life and stamina until I’m a depressed pile of plasma posing as a scientist.”

“The Dravatos works in mysterious ways, but any distress will heal with time. As scientists, you and I know that not everything has answ-“

“You’re no fucking scientist. You’re just a cleric with a lab coat. You’re full of shit. Your entire practice is full of shit, all the way back to the man who started this gyp show. His fucking sect of loonies isn’t even alive anymore – and none of its canons are recognized today.”

The two look at each other in silence for a minute.

“So, we’ll meet again two weeks from now?”, asks the therapist.

“Sure, Tçaqa. I’ve got nothing else to do about this. Nothing legal, at least.”

The two nod eyes rather abruptly, as Qutex leaves Kaa Tçaqa’s office with breakneck speed.

He looks up to the heavens, frustrated about the events that unfolded before him.

“Aloim, I need more than this. I can’t stay sane under these conditions. “Tell me what you see… “I need something more.

“I need something…

“…more.”

II ()Edit

To be written

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