Dream: One Last Thing

(I really, really need a better journaling system. Really.)

He had already wrung me inside and out. I was sitting exhausted and spent on the ground next to where he stood. He walked around me slowly, examining me with a smirk.

“One last thing before you go.” I hadn’t the strength to even look up at him. Earlier he had sent me on an underground task. It was so far removed from all else I had experienced, it took all my reserves to complete and return to the surface. And now, he has “one last thing”?

I got on my knees, in preparation to stand up. He may allow me to sit and rest at times, but when he speaks, the least I could do in respect is to stand.

So tired. So spent. I catch my breath and start the push to my feet. Halfway through the rise, a large weight falls against my back, knocking me back to my knees. I tilt to one side, expecting the weight to fall off onto the ground, but instead the weight starts to wrap around me.

Barely on my knees, I struggle against the large snake that is now wrapped around my torso and neck. The struggle is in name only, I am far too exhausted to even bear the weight of the large snake. The weight of the snake affects more than just flesh. I am completely captive to my bonds. I have not even the will to struggle.

He pulls me back up to a sitting kneeled position. The snake adjusts, its tail wrapped tight against my arms, binding my arms and hands behind me. The coils are wrapped several times around my chest, lax just enough to allow me to breathe. The snake’s head rests heavily on my own, forcing my face downward.

He walks around me once, verifying my captivity. I feel a chthonic pull on my psyche, pulling my awareness back into the ground, leaving my body anchored in the python’s coils.

I remember him asking me questions. I remember the sound of my voice as I answered. I remember none of the words.

He is satisfied with the event. He pulls gently at the python’s head. It loosens its grip around me, and silently moves into the ground beneath me. It circles me clockwise, burrowing into and merging with the dirt under me.

I’m left laying facedown on the pebbly ground. He kneels beside me, chuckling. Turning me over is like moving a sleeping person, I offer no resistance.

He gives me a few more words of instruction. And then laughingly tells me to “sleep it off”.

I wake up more exhausted than when I laid down for the nap.