Samstag, 6. Februar 2016

Jonah 3

I had forgotten where I was. It looked like a parking lot, and the police was after me. Was it because of what I did? But what did I do? No time to think. Time to run. Run faster. Stay away from the lights. Move ahead, don't look back. He looks weird, don't look at him, keep going. I know this street, I've been here before. I could hide in this garden shed. No, the family is still awake. Find something else. Faster. I'm out of breath. Makes no difference. No time to lose. Fear. Voices. Cars going by. There is a friend. Somewhere, there has to be a friend. I can't be here alone. It can't be.

Horses. Hundreds of them. In pure daylight, on a field and I was a rider. I was strong with heavy armor and a sword as long as a man is tall. They were coming for me, but they had no idea how strong I was. My fire, they didn't know it yet. But they would know it. My darkness, it was everywhere and like a hail of knives I rained down upon them. I burned through every heart and every soul and it felt amazing. And when I was done, I knew that the heads that were still on top of their bodies would soon fall to the ground. I wiped the blood off my blade. The remaining riders watched in horror as their allies fell to pieces. The smell of iron. My fist wrapped around the reigns. I was finally home. Myself again.

But when I woke up I couldn't believe what I had just done. And that I enjoyed it. But I knew that I was still myself and that I could never do such a thing in real life. I found it strange that I felt no regret, but then again: It was only a dream.

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