The fist gripped my shirt tightly over my chest. Before I could react, the figure lifted me and slammed me into the brick wall behind me. I managed to keep my head from colliding with the brick, but at the cost of the force being concentrated on my back. The arm retracted slightly, still gripping me, and slammed me into the wall several times.
I knew I was dreaming. I should have been able to retaliate, to call fire, to change shape. But I was bound into this form by a power I did not recognize. I was mostly human. I was allowed enough otherworldliness to withstand the assault without breaking immediately. But not enough to defend myself. It was as if my assaulter was exploiting a weakness, effectively turning off my defenses. No minions, no flaming blood, no Shamblings, no world-jumping. Just me and the immovable object I kept making forcible contact with. I was helpless.
“I loved you!” The declaration was punctuated with another slam into the wall. I felt my sternum crack. “I still do!” ~slam~ “I let you in where no one else had been!” ~slam~ “You betrayed me! You used me!” ~slam~ “And when you could get no more, you declared me a threat and threw me away!” ~slam~ ~slam~ ~slam~ ~crack~
My head made contact with the wall. The sharp retort deafened me and I felt my cracked skull quiver from impact. I was limp in his hand. He slammed me into the wall twice more before realizing I was unresponsive. He pinned me there, my feet dangling off the ground, and cried in heaving sobs.
My hand twitched. He saw and began slamming me anew. He had exhausted his tears and now his anger fueled him. “No! Not this time!” ~slam~ “You claim to be broken? I will break you, bitch!” ~slam~ “I know the hidden paths to you!” ~slam~ “I was never your master, I was always your friend!” ~slam~ “And you betrayed me!” ~slam~ ~slam~ “I will make Persia into the play of children!” ~slam~ “You want a master? I will own your soul forever and never release you!” ~slam~ “You will never escape me!” ~slam~
I finally recognized him. My own anger bloomed in return. With it, came the fire from my still smothered heart. I was not fully myself, but I was enough to strike back.
“[No!] [Enough!]” I did not recognize the language I used. The words formed glowing sigils between us that exploded in a silent bloom of plasma. I fell to the ground, my legs folding beneath me. He fell backwards and slid to a stop, facedown.
I was livid. But I did not trust the scenario. A part of me wanted payback. Another part noted how emotionally charged the scene is. This isn’t the time for blind swings.
My fear threatened to deaden my legs completely, but I refused to give it purchase. As I wavered to my feet, I noticed how the very air smelled of hot and angry sex. Was this him? I could not tell for certain. The concussion felt very real, however, and prudence was screaming at me to escape while I could.
As I stumbled away into the shielding darkness, I heard myself mutter, “You blew your chance, bitch. I didn’t cry. And now I’m fucking pissed.”. But I did not understand why I said that or who I was talking to.
But when I typed up the dream, I understood.