It’s better this way

I had an extremely disturbing vivid dream this week I should probably forget. Instead of doing the sensible thing I’m going to use it for a short story. Never really planed to click publish on this one, but we just posted a Mila dream so, might as well post one of mine. –

This was a really fucked up drea // you are warned // do not read further

Heres the account of the dream

We’ve been under siege running for two years now. We managed to keep our selves and our children from the breeding factories for two years. At first, they came in peace and brought with them technology so advanced it seemed like magic to most people. They made our world a better place, brought out the best of all us and made everyone healthy and happy.

Somewhere in the gift of making us healthy, it was discovered what their plan was. From the start, they knew that consuming our live flesh had tremendous positive effects on their people. Consuming humans became addictive to them. Making us better made for better meals. Horrible for us, we had to consumed live to better feed the addiction.

When they ate us they placed a collar around our necks, ankles and wrists that kept us alive until nearly everything was eaten. The collars did nothing for the pain. The screams from their food seemed to bring them pleasure. After the main body cavity was eaten to the bones and the skin was removed from the face they’d eat the eyes. Always giving them to the most honoured guest at the banquet. Then they spoon out the brain for desert and the person would finally die.

Michelle and I managed to keep our children safe for years until we’d finally run out of room, resources, and energy to go on. There was nothing else we could do to avoid them. Michelle and I talked it over and decided it would be better if I ended the lives of our children vs letting them become food. Tomorrow they would find us; no matter what we did tomorrow they would find us and we’d be food shortly afterward.

We made the best meal we could considering where we were and what we had for supplies. We did our best to make the most of our last ours. We told stories about the best parts of our lives and loved on children. Then our time was over and there was one last job for me to do. I took the smallest child first. We told the kids I was going to tuck them into bed.

We walked away from the camp for a few minutes so no one else would hear or see. It was not possible to hold back the tears but I somehow managed to keep from getting in the way. My eyes were wet and red. I gave her kiss held her tight told her I loved her then placed my right hand behind her head and held her chin in my left hand. One last kiss then I turned her head to my right with as much force and speed as I could muster.

She yelped a bit, there was a loud snap then it was silent except for my breathing. I’d twisted too hard and some of flesh and torn. Her blood was on my hands. My youngest daughters blood was on my hands. My hands that had just taken her life. I knew I could not take the time to think about it more. I used her last outfit to clean my hands then walked back to get my new youngest daughter and take her for a walk.

She was two years older. I’m still trying to keep it all together and avoid crying hard; Focusing on facts. I decided to use the same force and technique on her thinking two more years of aging would be enough to prevent the blood. I was wrong. On the walk back to get my last daughter I found her in Michelle’s arms. Michelle was holding her crying and whispering- no, no, we can’t do this.

I asked her to be strong and took our last daughter. I could not see more blood. After her kiss goodbye, turned her around and wrapped my right arm around her throat, whispered her ear “I’m sorry sugar, I love you ” then I used my left hand behind her head and pressed her head forward into the nook of my Elbow and squeezed the life from her. She tried to scream but could not. She tried to stop me scratched at my face but she could not. It was only a few seconds of struggle but it seemed like two lifetimes to me. I held tight for many minutes to make sure she was gone.

Then I went back for my last child. My oldest. My son. He was old enough to have figured out and asked me not too. This is when the tears came. I could no longer hold them back. I told him it was me or them. You could see it in his eyes. He knows what the words meant. Then he turned white and his arms seemed to go limp. He simply said ok.

I picked him up and carried him a short ways away. Only far enough to be out of Michelle’s eyesight, the sounds don’t matter anymore. I could hear her crying. He walked in front of me. Then I did with him as I did with his sister, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I could not look at him to say goodbye. This was the best I was capable of. I constricted my arm and cut off his throat. Compelled by primal instincts he fought me. But he was only 9, he did not have the strength even if he had the will. Eventually, he too went limp.

I crawled on my hands and knees back to our camp. Into the arms of my wife. She told me thank you. She told me she loved me. She tried to tell me it was the right thing to do. We embraced and I rolled on top of her holding her down. Whispered in her ears that I was sorry and that I loved her. Then I sat up on top of her and wrapped my hands around her throat. My legs were on her arms. She could not physically struggle. She could not emotionally struggle. She mouthed what I believe was thank you then the light went out of her eyes.

– at this point, I woke up sweating with wet eyes and laid in bed next to my wife listening to her breath. And felt thankful that was just a dream.