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Of Fire and Ice

Of Fire and Ice



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Published by Hannah Johnson
Both Vanessa and Ruben are dreaming about each other; both of them are connected in a way neither of them could ever imagine. Who gets to kill who first? How important is it?
Both Vanessa and Ruben are dreaming about each other; both of them are connected in a way neither of them could ever imagine. Who gets to kill who first? How important is it?

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Published by: Hannah Johnson on Aug 05, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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1- VanessaIt was cold in my dream- unnaturally so. I was sure that if I could see anything at all, I’d see myfingertips beginning to turn blue, just like always. The cold stone floor provided me with only thecomfort of knowing that I was grounded- something rare for a dream. I wrapped my arms around my body and hugged myself. My arms and hands were sticky, with what I presumed to be…Well, let’s not gointo that.I’d had this dream before- I’d
this dream before. It was far too powerful a memory to berepressed (disappointing, really) and my overwhelming fear of this experience caused it to manifest indream form. One of these days- when I finally had the time- I’d go see a psychiatrist who could hypnotizeme into forgetting it had ever happened…Either that or I’d hit my head against something really hard. Idecided that if the latter hadn’t happened by the time I had time for the former, then I’d go see apsychiatrist.In any case, that didn’t matter at the moment. It was funny- I’d had this dream so many times that by now I knew I was dreaming. I pulled my knees up to my chest and sat upright- no longer in the fetalposition. My knees ached and my feet were screaming for some sort of blood circulation, but I knew thatif I just held on for a little while longer, I’d wake up and be fine again. Well…You know what I mean.Waiting there in the dark for the moment when I would wake up really made me want to die… Just like always. When this had actually happened to me, I tried killing myself too many times to count, but nothing ever worked. Sometimes I hoped that my captor would take things a little too far and just killme himself, but I knew that would never happen. He was too smart- had everything planned out to thevery last detail. It pissed me off.Then, when I had begun to think that I would never wake up, the sound of approaching footstepsgrew louder until whoever had been walking was standing outside of the door to my cell. I heard thelatch click and the creak of the door swinging open. A dark, low chuckle resonated throughout the cell.“Get up.”I was frozen in terror. My dream version of this scene had never taken things this far. As though avisitor in my own body, I slowly rose to my feet. My legs tingled as the blood rushed to them all tooquickly.My captor smirked- he was the only thing I could ever see in my nightmare. Slowly he walked tome, taking my chin in his hand. He turned my head from side to side as I grit my teeth and glared at him.
“Wake up!”
I wanted to scream. Of course, it wasn’t all that I wanted to do. I wanted to push himoff of me- kick him where it hurts and run as far away from him as possible. However, it was never meantto be.“I love when you get that look in your eye.”My heart rate picked up. I knew what would come next, and I was determined to wake up beforeit happened.He pushed me backwards, and I slammed into the ground
. I clamped my eyes shut tight,and when I opened them again, I was staring at a ceiling fan.
“Shit.” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. That was cutting it a little too close. I examined the room Iwas in- beat up and half run down. Not bad considering where I was. The clock on the bedside table wasflashing twelve in annoying red LED lights- busted…I wasn’t surprised. But, I knew that the walls to thisplace were paper thin. I reached out with my right hand and knocked on the hard wood.“What?” The muffled call came, sounding half awake.“What time is it?”A pause. “1:45.”I frowned. Nice to know that it only took me forty-five minutes to relive my most traumatizingmoment. Rolling over on the tiny cot I was forced to call a bed for the night, I closed my eyes and tried tofall back asleep. I wasn’t afraid to dream again- I knew my previous nightmare wouldn’t haunt me twicein the same twenty-four hour period. My next dream was less chilling than the last…but not by much.I was in a castle…That much I knew for sure. Unlike my nightmare (as I had taken to calling it) Icould see where I was and what was around me. It wasn’t as cold, but I could hear the powerfuldrumming of rain. Spying a spiral staircase, I followed it up to the roof where I heard the sound of metalhitting metal. Wiping the rain water from my eyes, I wandered in the direction of the sound. I eventuallystumbled upon two men who were sword fighting.One was clad in a blue trench coat- his platinum blonde hair drenched by the rain, concealing hisface. He swung the katana in his hand crazily with overpowering strikes.The second wore baggy black pants and a red vest- his hair was also hiding his face, but it was jet black. He had a similar katana in his hands, but was handling it with precision and expertise.When I thought that they would go on forever, Blue stepped wrong and slipped in a puddle ofrain water. His katana flew out of his hands, and Red’s sword pierced his abdomen. A gut wrenching crywas torn from his throat, echoing off of the castle’s towers. He crashed to the ground with a resonatingthud that turned into the sound of someone banging on the door to the room I was in.Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. “What?” I yelled.The door swung open- the frail older man I knew as Frank was standing there.“It’s eight.” He croaked in a throaty voice. “Bars opening. Get up and get out.” He slammed thedoor behind him.I groaned. Of course I was grateful to Frank for letting me stay in the upper room of his bar, but Ihated waking up early each day when it opened. Reluctantly once more, I swung my legs over the side ofthe cot and stretched. My cell phone was sitting on top of my jacket, which had been consequently tossedin a corner the previous evening. I snatched it up and checked the time.6:53.“That lying son-of-a-“ I didn’t finish my sentence- it would do me no good. Instead, I grabbed myrobe and a towel and headed for the bathroom. It was going to be a long day. 
1- RubenI was having
dream again- for the third night in a row. It was getting old. I mean, after thefirst time it did get less intense and suspenseful, but come on…I don’t have that kind of attention span.The rain was painful. Even though I had my jacket on, it still felt as though each drop was penetratingright through and chilling my core. My hair was in my face- dripping wet and getting heavier by thesecond- making it harder to see.I was holding a katana in my right hand. It felt alien to me, and I wanted desperately to toss itaside and finish this fight the old fashioned way- with my fists.“Giving up so soon?”I laughed loudly and shook my head. “Not a chance.” I ran in again, swinging the sword wildly,and managed to catch my opponent slightly off guard- slicing his bare arm. He hissed in pain and anger,retaliating with more accurate strikes. I resorted to blocking them with my arms- shredding my coat.“Damn you…” I muttered, gritting my teeth. I struck again, and we exchanged a massive amountof blows. Just when I thought I was going to win, I slipped in a puddle and began to fall backwards. Thekatana flew out of my hands, and I felt a sharp pain in my solar plexus. I hit the ground hard- smashingmy head against the stone ground. A dark shadow appeared over me, laughing hysterically.“You lose.”I saw the sword headed for me again. I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to come again…But itnever did. I opened my eyes again to the comfortable darkness of my office. I coughed loudly and sat up.Immediately, I winced at the pinch in my neck- probably caused from falling asleep on the couch.“Davis!” I whispered loudly.My brother groaned. “What?”I leaned back to alleviate my back and neck pain. “What time is it?”I saw his hand shoot up and make a grab for my leg. I lifted it up in the air so that he missed.“What was that for??”He sat up from his spot on the floor, glaring at me and rubbing his head.“It is one forty-five.” He said slowly and venomously, carefully enunciating each syllable. “Eithershut your mouth andgo back to sleep, or I will gladly do it for you.”I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. 1:45? Damn…Only forty-five minutes had gone by.
“I guess I should go back to sleep…”
But what I really should’ve done was gotten up and gone down to the Blue Moon bar to drinkmyself silly, like I usually did when I had this dream. Instead, I fell back asleep and took a trip back todream land- not good.I was in a long, dark hallway with wrought-iron doors on both sides. The air around me wasdamp and musty, so I assumed that I was underground. The painful sounds of screams and cries comingfrom the hallways led me to realize that the rooms in front of me were cells.

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