Weeks, maybe months have now passed since the nightmares began. You have distanced yourself from everything you previously held dear; those once close are now seen as strangers and trusted even less. The routines that once filled your days feel alien and unnatural. Sleep has become an unfamiliar luxury. Your exhausted body, sore muscles and bloodshot eyes are quickly becoming indicative of your torment. Neither seer nor salve, priest nor prayer has had any success at ending your visions. As your increasing desperation continues, what stalks your sleepless nights has only just begun to creep into your waking hours. More and more you realize that a solution to your troubles will not simply come – the solution must be found.
In a bold moment of impulsiveness, you close your eyes to focus on that which haunts you in the darkness. Simply thinking on the nightmares as opposed to occupying you mind with something, anything else, feels like a terrifying admission. An admission that what you see could be more than a dream. You notice your body growing increasingly tense, muscles twitch as adrenaline courses through your veins. Your breathing has become staggered and the air quickly escaping your lungs calls to your attention that you are trembling uncontrollably. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest.
The nightmare has encompassed you. What you see feels like an amalgamation of memory and imagination. Rapid fire images sear themselves into your memory: thick jungle canopy, choking humidity, the shadows of the the forest floor, ruins of a long forgotten city, darkness, hallways of shattered stonework and splintered skeletons, darker, deeper, haunting melodies echoing across vast chasms, impossibly dark caverns, blood, roots, bones, flesh, everything melding, everything twisting, more and more perverse, grotesque, too unnatural to be written off as imagination.
You come to and with a supernatural bit of instinct look to the south.