I had a very strange dream last night that felt quite real, almost to the point of it being lucid. The dream started out with me reading a leather-bound book of Latin invocations at my desk for some unknown reason with heavy rain going pitter-pat-pitter-pat outside my window. As I was being lured into the dead language's syllables, the woodgrain GE radio that I keep on my desk burst into static. After roughly five seconds of this deafening noise, a silky smooth and feminine voice instructed me to bring the book to "the sacred place".
I then became a real-life marionette as I lost all control of my muscles and started to deliver the book to this unknown area. I still had control of my mind, and thus my thoughts, but my body refused to obey me. My legs mechanically marched on and on through a foggy night until I eventually reached this "sacred place." It turned out to be a single coconut palm tree atop a hill. This is significant because in this part of Georgia palm trees don't grow naturally. Then she appeared. I instinctively knew that this entity was the owner of that voice I heard on my radio. The most striking details about her was that she was wearing a sharp green dress cut in a full-skirt fashion and had unnaturally blue irises. Coupled with her neck length black hair and her small round-lensed eyeglasses, and she looked like someone to reckon with.
She then told me in that same oily voice that she was the human manifestation of my car and that she had an important task for me. She told me that I had to bury the book at the foot of her tree. When I inquired about this, she replied that it was to "save" her from "the darkness". She then conjured a U.S. Army issue trench shovel from thin air and thrust it into my hands. As I dug deep into the earth, this time in full control of my body, my shovel hit a lump of metal. Upon further digging, it turned out to be a Studebaker 289 cu. V8 in pristine condition. The female entity standing over me had a look of bemusement on her face but slowly broke into a smile. She said that it was her heart and that all I needed to do was break it open. I slammed the shovel against it again and again, but the engine didn't even get a scratch. I threw the book against it out of frustration and to my utter amazement it cracked open neatly down the middle.
What I saw was both fascinating and repulsive. While the inside of the engine had components shaped like they were supposed to, they were made out of muscles and blood instead of metal and oil. Both atrium and ventricles were present, with their functions being similar, but their movement was much faster than what my own human heart could handle. She then instructed me to take a sample of the blood and mark my bosom with it. I did so, and then I heard a sharp wailing not dissimilar to a car horn. At this she became very concerned and told me to throw the book in the hole I dug with her heart still inside and cover it up. As I frantically began piling the dirt on, the horn became louder and closer. There was a point where it sounded more like a hellish beast than something mechanical. I had just enough time to look up from my crouched position to see her thank me, blow me a kiss, and turn into a green cloud-like vapor. Then I woke up.
My bed was drenched in sweat and my heart rate was elevated far above normal. I felt disquiet, but also a mysterious sense of longing for her. I felt as though she was something or someone that I should visit again. Ah well... If I'm not going mad, me thinks that I should be in for a swell time.
I then became a real-life marionette as I lost all control of my muscles and started to deliver the book to this unknown area. I still had control of my mind, and thus my thoughts, but my body refused to obey me. My legs mechanically marched on and on through a foggy night until I eventually reached this "sacred place." It turned out to be a single coconut palm tree atop a hill. This is significant because in this part of Georgia palm trees don't grow naturally. Then she appeared. I instinctively knew that this entity was the owner of that voice I heard on my radio. The most striking details about her was that she was wearing a sharp green dress cut in a full-skirt fashion and had unnaturally blue irises. Coupled with her neck length black hair and her small round-lensed eyeglasses, and she looked like someone to reckon with.
She then told me in that same oily voice that she was the human manifestation of my car and that she had an important task for me. She told me that I had to bury the book at the foot of her tree. When I inquired about this, she replied that it was to "save" her from "the darkness". She then conjured a U.S. Army issue trench shovel from thin air and thrust it into my hands. As I dug deep into the earth, this time in full control of my body, my shovel hit a lump of metal. Upon further digging, it turned out to be a Studebaker 289 cu. V8 in pristine condition. The female entity standing over me had a look of bemusement on her face but slowly broke into a smile. She said that it was her heart and that all I needed to do was break it open. I slammed the shovel against it again and again, but the engine didn't even get a scratch. I threw the book against it out of frustration and to my utter amazement it cracked open neatly down the middle.
What I saw was both fascinating and repulsive. While the inside of the engine had components shaped like they were supposed to, they were made out of muscles and blood instead of metal and oil. Both atrium and ventricles were present, with their functions being similar, but their movement was much faster than what my own human heart could handle. She then instructed me to take a sample of the blood and mark my bosom with it. I did so, and then I heard a sharp wailing not dissimilar to a car horn. At this she became very concerned and told me to throw the book in the hole I dug with her heart still inside and cover it up. As I frantically began piling the dirt on, the horn became louder and closer. There was a point where it sounded more like a hellish beast than something mechanical. I had just enough time to look up from my crouched position to see her thank me, blow me a kiss, and turn into a green cloud-like vapor. Then I woke up.
My bed was drenched in sweat and my heart rate was elevated far above normal. I felt disquiet, but also a mysterious sense of longing for her. I felt as though she was something or someone that I should visit again. Ah well... If I'm not going mad, me thinks that I should be in for a swell time.
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