Dream Interpretation [gen, one-shot, PG]
Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 10:17 am
Title: Dream Interpretation
Author: Omnicat
Rating: PG (K)
Genre: Horror? Suspense? Angst?
Spoilers: Names only. Nothing to worry about.
Warnings: Nightmare...
Pairings: None. Although...
Soundtrack: None, luckily.
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Summary: An oppressing nightmare. Heero?s point of view. I dare every reader to give their own interpretation.
Author?s Note: For some reason I still cannot fathom, this is my best received fic up to date. It?s getting favved more than any other story I have posted over on ff.net.
So, I thought ?Let?s see what the peeps over on BI think of it. Maybe they can tell me what is so special about it.?.
So... could somebody tell me? And give your interpretation while you?re at it?
Despite being the writer of this (and already having gotten over half a dozen interpretations), I still don?t really know what the hidden message behind this should be. That?s why I would like you, the reader, to give your own interpretation. I am curious and open to every opinion.
<center>II--o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o--O--o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o--II</center>
His cockpit was too small. There was not enough oxygen.
He punched, kicked, bit, kneed and elbowed at the dead, bloody hands groping at him. The hollow eyes reflected the light of the monitors and controls.
He broke free, dead hands clinging to him in vain. The explosion sent him running, into a wide, high ceilinged space.
Four of the professors, Zechs, Noin, Une, Mariemeia, Dekim Barton, Treize, Sally Po, Catherine Bloom, Dorothy Catalonia, Sylvia Noventa and her grandparents, Quinze, Tsubarov, surrounded him and watched with eyes that reflected loathing, disbelief, grief, hatred, fear, desperation, rejection.
Demand.
He tripped, fell deep and scrambled to his feet.
Odin Lowe, Dr. J and the little girl with her puppy towered over him.
?You have five seconds.?
He turned and ran.
His legs were made of lead, he skidded on the soaped floor at every bend, the dimly lit walls leaned into him, his chest was drawn tight.
Wufei blocked the way out.
?Five.? he said, standing from his previously cross-legged position and raising his broad sword, which gleamed in the light shining through the doorway behind him.
He ran in a different direction.
Quatre blocked the way out.
?Four.? he said, his kind eyes shining with tears as he spread his arms, ready to stand and fall. ?Please...?
He spun around and ran.
Trowa blocked the way out.
?Three.? he said, landing with catlike grace as he descended from his previous, higher spot, face impassive as ever, knife in hand.
He skidded to a halt and turned on his heels.
Duo blocked the way out.
?Two.? he said, merrily waving a scythe with a glowing green thermoblade. ?Hurry up, buddy.?
He turned and ran. Right into a wall.
?One.?
He turned, wading though thick treacle, unable to speak. His eyes widened.
Relena fired the gun.
His scream pierced the air as he jolted upright in bed, bathing in cold sweat.
?Relena...?
Author: Omnicat
Rating: PG (K)
Genre: Horror? Suspense? Angst?
Spoilers: Names only. Nothing to worry about.
Warnings: Nightmare...
Pairings: None. Although...
Soundtrack: None, luckily.
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Summary: An oppressing nightmare. Heero?s point of view. I dare every reader to give their own interpretation.
Author?s Note: For some reason I still cannot fathom, this is my best received fic up to date. It?s getting favved more than any other story I have posted over on ff.net.
So, I thought ?Let?s see what the peeps over on BI think of it. Maybe they can tell me what is so special about it.?.So... could somebody tell me? And give your interpretation while you?re at it?
Despite being the writer of this (and already having gotten over half a dozen interpretations), I still don?t really know what the hidden message behind this should be. That?s why I would like you, the reader, to give your own interpretation. I am curious and open to every opinion.<center>II--o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o--O--o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o--II</center>
His cockpit was too small. There was not enough oxygen.
He punched, kicked, bit, kneed and elbowed at the dead, bloody hands groping at him. The hollow eyes reflected the light of the monitors and controls.
He broke free, dead hands clinging to him in vain. The explosion sent him running, into a wide, high ceilinged space.
Four of the professors, Zechs, Noin, Une, Mariemeia, Dekim Barton, Treize, Sally Po, Catherine Bloom, Dorothy Catalonia, Sylvia Noventa and her grandparents, Quinze, Tsubarov, surrounded him and watched with eyes that reflected loathing, disbelief, grief, hatred, fear, desperation, rejection.
Demand.
He tripped, fell deep and scrambled to his feet.
Odin Lowe, Dr. J and the little girl with her puppy towered over him.
?You have five seconds.?
He turned and ran.
His legs were made of lead, he skidded on the soaped floor at every bend, the dimly lit walls leaned into him, his chest was drawn tight.
Wufei blocked the way out.
?Five.? he said, standing from his previously cross-legged position and raising his broad sword, which gleamed in the light shining through the doorway behind him.
He ran in a different direction.
Quatre blocked the way out.
?Four.? he said, his kind eyes shining with tears as he spread his arms, ready to stand and fall. ?Please...?
He spun around and ran.
Trowa blocked the way out.
?Three.? he said, landing with catlike grace as he descended from his previous, higher spot, face impassive as ever, knife in hand.
He skidded to a halt and turned on his heels.
Duo blocked the way out.
?Two.? he said, merrily waving a scythe with a glowing green thermoblade. ?Hurry up, buddy.?
He turned and ran. Right into a wall.
?One.?
He turned, wading though thick treacle, unable to speak. His eyes widened.
Relena fired the gun.
His scream pierced the air as he jolted upright in bed, bathing in cold sweat.
?Relena...?
