Dream Journal: 2014-06-29.01

Just snuggled into bed? Check. Just finally got my mind wound down from the day? Check. All my wards in place and the Skeletal Flaming Pit Bull of Feet Cuddling in place? Check. Feeling onset of hypnogogia? Check.

Feeling a hand grip my leg as something nudges the bed? Check. Oh, wait.

I swear to all the gods in all the heavens and all the hells I am going to rip someone’s face off for this…WHAT?!” I sit up and come face to face with a… person… caught in the process of trying to sneak over me. He has one hand on my covered leg, and the other hand was reaching for the covers by my face. He blinks in surprise, obviously not expecting me to be fully aware this fast. Well, he would have blinked, except most of the skin on his face had rotted off. I recognize the head gesture and the twinges of what muscles remained around his eye-socket.

“… Haaaaiiiiiiii.” I didn’t answer his nervous greeting. The bed shifted slightly as the ghosthound adjusted his position. He had laid a paw on the partially fleshed hand that was still lying on my ankle. The dog made a grumbling noise indicating that he wasn’t upset about the current events, yet, only annoyed that his comfortable position had been compromised. The dead man snatched his hand away in sudden fear and nervously looked back at me again.

“Eehhh… sorry about disturbing you… please don’t set me on fire…” He tried to smile in submission as he backed away from the bed but a muscle disconnected and hung loosely from his exposed cheek bone. I understood the intent, at least. “I bring a message, an invitation…”

“An invitation, or a summons?”, I growled. I wanted to laugh. This poor guy was terrified to be here. I really did want to put him at ease, but I recognized who sent him. I have a reputation to maintain, and that means scaring the shit out of anyone he sends to me.

“Uh… uh…. Hang on…. um… [The actual message, at last.]” The ghosthound crawled towards him on the bed. He backed away even further. I couldn’t tell which he was more afraid of, me or the Skeletal Flaming Pit Bull of Rub My Belly!

“Message received. Do not wake me again or I’ll add to my skull collection!”

The half rotted messenger brought his hands to his neck in reflex. “Yessss, Ma’am. I won’t, Ma’am!” He bowed repeatedly.

“Then get the fuck out of my sight before I find a pretty to make of you.”

He turned and fled into the surrounding shadows. I swear, the ghosthound was laughing in his absence. “Hey!” I kicked at him from under the covers. “Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me and shit? What you let him slide in for?”

The Skeletal Flaming Pit Bull of No Fucks Given commandeered a foot to use as his pillow. He settled down with a happy little grump and looked at me with little pits of flame where his eyes should be and his tail thumping against the covers as if it were the largest drum in the world. I knew why, but I had to tease him for it to save face. “Yea, yea, I’ll be going later. After I get some sleep. And if I don’t, I won’t let you rest either, so no more surprises or no more belly rubs!”

He whined in complaint before grumping another half-laugh again. No further shenanigans were had the rest of the night.


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