The Dreamwalker

A dreamwalker: A person the sees the future in his/her dreams.

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1. Prologue

I wake up to bright lights and white walls. I blink my eyes once, twice, before my eyes adjust to the lighting, and I take in my surroundings. I’m lying in a bed similar to those in hospitals, except without the annoying bars on the side. The only thing covering my – I gasp as I notice – naked body, is a thin blanket, almost crossing the border to be a mere sheet with light blue stripes, the mattress underneath me is hard and uncomfortable against my skin, and the pillow only just big enough to fit my head. I’m about to reach my hand up to pull of the blanket, when I realize, to my own sheer horror, that I can’t. I can’t move. I can’t feel anything but my face. The anxiety reaches me at the speed of a leopard, and hits me like rock. And then I start to panic. What’s going on? Where am I? I question inside my head, as I feel the cold sweat forming on my forehead, and trickle down my temples. My eyes are big, and ears alerted, but nothing but the sound of silence is perceived, by my over-working brain. Strands of hair fall into my eyes, as I move my head from side to side, my breathing catching up in speed. My face changes in a contracted expression, as I try my hardest lift my head from the pillow.

A door shoots open, a door I hadn’t even noticed, because it looked almost exactly like a piece of the wall. It was almost as if it had showed up out of nowhere. I almost stop breathing, when I notice the tall silhouette standing by the doorframe.

The silhouette steps inside. My eyes turn small as I try to make out the person. Clicking noises emits from the floor, as the person make her way inside. She stops on the right side of the bed and gives me a scrutinizing look.

“W-where am I? W-What’s happening?,” I stutter through gritted teeth, tongue feeling a little numb. In response she adjust her glasses and gives me a once-over, then she puts a hand into the pocket of her white doctor-like coat, and pulls out a needle at the size of a good 10 centimeters long thick stick. I gulp, my breathing getting uneven.

“Wha-What are you going to do w-with that? Wh-y? W-who are you. I-I-“ My breath hitches in my throat as she brings the sharply pointed needle towards me. It’s almost shining in the light from the lamps above. As I heave after air, I feel how the tears start prick in my eyes.

“P-please don’t hurt m-me,” I beg, tears combining with droplets of sweat on their way down my face before the hit the pillow. “W-why are you doing this to me? W-what have I done?” I grit out, through the tears in my eyes. She gives me an indifferent look, which almost seems judging to my tearful eyes.

“Keep quite,” she says, expression kept monotone. I furrow my brows in question, and I’m just about to retort back – mouth already open, when, in a quick movement, she sticks the needle into my neck, and I instead let out a high-pitched scream, at the sudden pain. It’s already darkening for my eyes, when she pulls out the needle and scribbles something down on a notepad, and the last thing I see is her retreating figure as she trots away on her skyscraper heels. The door closes with a swoosh and everything goes black. A few seconds after there’s nothing but the painful throbbing in my neck, spreading through my veins to every limp of my body, and the aching is so painful, I’m almost glad I go unconscious.

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