The voices ask if you have strength. Well, not really. You are in a pretty bad situation about that. You have muscles, but they can't really work well due to your malnourishment, so the effect the muscles could have is pretty much destroyed due to the fact you have not been fed properly for years upon years. Also, you are not a this. You are a the. You stumble around, trying to find a closet to rest in. You can't find one, but there is a bed here, so you hide under it. You clutch your shiv in hand, and wait for the morning. You slowly drift away.
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You are dreaming.
The problem with this is that your dreams are not fun, and are mostly an amalgamation of everyone's collective Id in a mile radius, so you end up with some very very very strange and sometimes depressing dreams. This is another problem with being a telepath. In waking life, you filter through the random thoughts of everyone. In dreams, that filter is off. Thus, dreams are scary and weird and are memorable. It's hard to find an element you can call your own. This is different to the frenzied psychotic horror that was the facility's dreams. This is much more somber. The world is dark and lonely, the monsters are here. Yet there is one thing left here. Hope. You are on a dark city street. Some horrible creature made entirely out of cut-outs of newspaper articles and eyes (It's the collective id of everyone in a mile radius, what the hell do you expect?) just tried to kill you. There is a street lamp at the end of the street, it's light sweet and pure.
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Topic: The Subject, New Edition. (Read 4392 times)