Dream: Lost nightmares

Dream

Prologue

When I eventually go to deep into the dream will you be there to stop me?

Will you be there to drag me out of from the dreams and back to reality? Will you be standing there at the edge of the abyss in the beginnings of nightmares to stop me?

I didn't thinks so.

I'm standing at the gate of the deep dreams, hoping to find you there my friend but all I see is the rusty gate that separates nightmares from dreams. I was hoping that someone, anyone, anything would be here with me stopping me or guiding me.

The gate's old and rusted from age and tare, the dream is stirring with anticipation or fear maybe even curiosity. On the other side of the gate there is nothing, only a void where all the horrors should be. What have come of the nightmares? The horrors that haunt us in the night? It seems as if they've just vanished along with the landscape they should have roamed.

I reach for the the gate. The air seems a lot colder the closer to the gate my hand comes, it is as if all the heat from the dream and me is being drained by the gate or maybe the void.

It's strange, this feeling is dread? No, It's something else but what? I touch the gate and it gently opens with a whine it feels like strait from a horror movie. Still there is nothing on the other side still I take a step forward towards the opening in the gate. I lean toward over the edge and still there is nothing, it just stops but there is no visible edge of the dream as well. Why is there this seemingly endless void where the nightmares should be? Why is there no warmth here while a few steps back there's a warm summers day?

I guess there only one way to find out.

Chapter one: The heart of the void

I take a step out in the to the emptiness that is the void expecting to fall but instead white marble plates appear beneath my feet one by one they appear, slowly building a path deeper into the nothingness of this void.

It seems like I have been walking for hours, maybe days but I have reached the end of the path.

I am standing in front of a large black stone door with an old copper plate that had turned green with age. The door is just standing there in the void, the only thing in this vast nothingness. I look back the way I came but there is nothing there, not even the plates that led me here. It seems like I was supposed to be here, almost like I was chosen by the void.

The door slowly opens to a large room, the sound of soft piano tunes echo out from the room, it reminds me of old jazz or maybe blues. The room have bookshelves along the walls, the floor is black and white stone plates laid in a most peculiar manner. In the middle of the room there is a grand piano dark as the