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by Felrna
Rated: · Short Story · Religious · #1527218
Micha's dreams are more realistic than he thinks.
**Note: this isn't completed yet. I would love some feedback on it. Thanks.

Micha opened his eyes to find himself laying in a cold dark room. He tried to sit up only to cause himself more pain. He lied back staring into the darkness trying to figure out where he was, and what exactly had happened to him. He remembered getting off the plane in Jerusalem to see some things the learned through his research, but everything after that was blank. Micha didn’t know how long he had been in what seemed to be an underground cell. All he knew was that he needed to find a way out and that it felt like he was being watched closely; maybe a little too close for his comfort. He closed his eyes trying to force himself to remember something, anything. He woke some time later to the scent of sulfur filling the air; but when he looked he saw nothing, not even a light in the room except…what is it? Could it be? Yes…a door! Micha sat up ignoring the pain in his chest and slowly inched his way to the door. As he opened the door he expected to be blinded by light, but every direction he looked he saw darkness. He didn’t know which way was the way out, so he just started to walk. He didn’t make it far before he was tackled to the ground. He struggled with his opponent, but it was too strong for him. He kicked and reached out to grab his assailant, but found nothing. He looked around, but it was too dark to see who he was wrestling with. He felt a claw-like hand grasp his neck and began to choke him. God help me. As soon as he said those words the being hissed and retreated back into the shadows. He fell back against the dirt wall to catch his breath.

Micha awoke from his dream in a pool of sweat. He looked around and realized he was still on his couch. He had fallen asleep during a movie, which would explain the vivid dream he had. The dream felt so real that he felt like he could still smell sulfur around him. Never in his thirty two years had he had a dream as real as this one was. He walked into the bathroom to wash his face and drink a little water to calm his nerves. When he looked into the mirror, his heart skipped a beat. He ran his fingers across his neck where he was grabbed in the dream. That’s impossible, it was just a dream. He thought as he stared in disbelief at the scratch marks on the side of his neck. Maybe I scratched myself trying to attack the hand I dreamt of. That was the only explanation he had. He wiped his face and ran his fingers through his dark brown hair before turning to his bedroom. He glanced at the clock and saw it read 1:30, so he decided to fall asleep and hope he doesn’t have a dream that real again for the rest of the night.

As soon as Micha had fallen back asleep, he was back in the dark cell. He looked around to gather more information on his surroundings. Everything was dark, damp, and dreary. He still couldn’t figure out where he was or what had attacked him earlier. All he knew was that he wanted to find a way out and be done with this. He looked around only to see he could go right or left, or back into the room he had came out of. He closed his eyes to think clearer when he heard the sound of water dripping to his left, so he decided to follow the sound. He walked causiously, not wanting to be surprised by an attack again; his kept his hand on the wall to feel his way through, and hoping he may come across another door, maybe even the exist. The farther down the corridor he got, he was able to hear more than the dripping of water. The voices were deep, raspy and sounded like nothing he has very heard. He tried to listen but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He decided to turn back and run away, he didn’t know who the voices belonged to, but he knew he didn’t want to stick around and find out.

The more he walked the more lost he got. He thought there was only one way to go, but he couldn’t find the door he had came out of. Suddenly he came to another door; this one different than his own, taller, heavier. On the other side he could hear someone calling out for help in between sobs. He pushed with all of his might against the door, but didn’t budge. He looked around for a rock to try and break the handle with, only to find nothing. He tried to throw himself against the door once more, and this time it flew open with such force that he stumbled into a metal bed. He looked around the darkness and saw a figure huddled in the corner; crying. He crept closer to it; “I won’t hurt you. I heard you crying for help and I want to help you. Maybe the two of us could find our way out of this hell.”

The young woman looked at him with piercing blue eyes with tears streaming down her procelin cheeks. “I’m Crysta. I..I don’t know how long I have been here.” Micha couldn’t get over how beautiful she was even if she was covered in dirt from the room. If the situation were different Micha would have asked this woman out, but considering the circumstances he decided not to. He helped her up and out the door and down the hall, opposite of where he came. Once they turned a corner, the strong smell of sulfur filled the air, and the young woman began to whimper again. Micha looked over at her and saw a look of sheer terror fill her blue eyes. Before he knew it, something pushed him the ground. He struggled to regain his footing. He reached out and was able to grab a hold the thing that attack him. He pulled it to the ground and punched it several times. The being jerk forward crashing it’s head into his nose. Micha could feel the warmth of his blood flowing down his face as he caught a glimpse of the yellow eyes staring at him. “You can’t rescue her. She is ours.” The thing hissed at him. The being seemed to fly towards Crysta claws extended. He reached for her throat, but before it could get to her Micha pulled it away and threw it against the wall. Micha had no idea where his strength was coming from, but he liked it. He ran over to see how Crysta was when the being grabbed his should and twisted him around. He tried to fight back, but for some reason he couldn’t move as he looked into those evil yellow eyes. He couldn’t even take his eyes off them. He couldn’t even move when the being lifted it’s talon-like claws towards his eyes.

Micha sat straight up only to realize he was still in his bed; his hands immediately went to his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked out the window and was almost blinded by the sunlight, the clock beside his bed read 9:30: he was late for work. He jumped in for a quick shower and got dressed all the while trying to analyze the dream he had just had. It seemed so vivid and he could remember every detail. And the woman…her voice seemed to still ring his ears. As he walked to work he passed a woman who looked vaguely familiar. She turned and ran after him, she grabbed his shoulder:

“Micha, I can’t believe I found you so soon! We need to talk.”

“Cry…Crysta?”

“Yes. We need to talk about that.”

“I need to get to work…” Micha looked around uneasy, unsure of how to take meeting Crysta, the woman in his dream. How could she be real, and here in New Brighton?

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