I shivered on that alien shore, that dreamscape. What else could it be? Magenta surf frothed across a crimson sea, that crashed against a beach of sorts: sand, pebbles, me, but all abstract, incorrect.
But to say crashed implies sound. There was none. It was as though all the makings of a perfect seascape had been created from the thoughts of a mad mute’s dream. The building blocks of existence had been taken then dashed against an unwilling God.
I looked right, then left, but the shoreline stretched boundary-less into an infinite horizon. There was no sign of life, human, or animal. I was all alone.
I craned my neck to a sky overflowing with kaleidoscopic stars. The night was brimmed full of celestia, but not as I knew it? Everything was contorted, wrong, unfixable.
You have to have hope to be found hopeless; faith to be faithless, for some reason I knew I had neither, so had lost nothing. I was hollow with no chance of ever being filled, as I stood amongst that alien scene.
The ocean drew my gaze. The waves, full of colour as they were, without reason, nor natural law, enticed me. I felt a pull, a sense of being drawn into their blood-soaked depths. That’s when I saw her.
I thought it seaweed, vermillion of tone, but it was hair splayed across the sea. The hair drew up and around the rising face of something that could have been human, or just as easily inhuman. Higher and higher it rose defying gravity. Blooded water dripped from the frame of the most perfect woman, or most perfect nightmare. Eyes of ruby hue flicked open. They observed me, as she studied me. Her head contorted to the left at an obscene angle, then flicked across her neck to do the same from her right. She considered my pedigree and found me wanting. Skimming the waves she drifted ever closer until almost upon me, then stopped.
She smiled, I shivered.
I would never wake.