Damien dreamed of falling. Falling was a common theme, it appeared in his dreams a lot. He fell off cliffs, buildings, trees-sometimes his dreams didn't even bother with a beginning, and just started with him falling. It wasn't scary-it was peaceful fall. Everything seemed to fall into place when he was falling, and it was a time when he got all of his best thinking done. However, this fall was differing from the norm. There was an extra piece involved.
The Ground.
In all his life, all his dreams of falling, Damien had never seen the ground. It just didn't come. The falling went on forever, if left to it's own devices. Here now, there was a deadline. There was pain, death, fear. And it was coming at him, fast.
Bang.
Damien didn't know how long he just lay there, eyes closed, overcome by pain. This was new, too. Damien never dreamed of pain. Or, if he did, it was never this real. Damien never felt this much pain when he was awake. Except, maybe once, when he fell and broke his arm. But, now, that was different. That was less. This was pain, in the extreme. But, as pain often does, it subsided, became less. It was still there, a strong headache, when he rose and opened his eyes.
The first thing he did was shield his eyes from the glare of the sun, which was shining bright. The second thing he did was gasp as the sheer sound of the place burst into his ears. It was as if it had built up and released itself upon him. It was a noisy, in-your-face loudness that screamed at him from all directions. It was unmistakable. It was the city.
Turning away from the glare of the sun, he saw he was on a busy street. People, every shape, age, size, race, were going along on some business of their own. Sky scrapers lined the path, and behind him he could hear the roar of the cars, horns blaring in aggression. This was exactly what he imagined New York City would be like. Weird.
Damien didn't really no what to do with himself. He knew it was a dream, the same way he always knew-he was an avid lucid dreamer. Should he walk around, explore? Should he do whatever he wanted? Punch someone? Scream? He felt lost. A whole world of possibilities, with absolutely no consequences. He was completely at a loss.
"Amazing, isn't it?"
Damien looked over his shoulder to the speaker, knowing who it would be before he saw. He'd recognise that voice anywhere. Zach, his best friend, fell into step beside him.
"What's amazing?"
"Does it really need saying?" Zach said, putting on a voice.
Damien shook his head. "Eh, kinda."
"Hmm. Alright. This...This whole.......this...ah....."
"Come on" Damien snorted. "Do you even know?"
"Yeah! I do. This world. This dream. That's what's amazing"
"This dream" puzzled Damien. "Yours, or mine?"
Zach laughed. "Definitely yours man. I'm just a guest"
Damien smiled. "So....could I evict you?"
Zach smiled back. "You could try...and die trying"
They laughed.
Zach's laugh came short. "There's....something we need to do here"
Damien shrugged. "What do we need to do?"
Zach pointed to a skyscraper, down the street. He walked off to it, silently. Damien cocked his head, before following. If he had any idea of what was waiting for him at the top of that scraper.....If he had any notion to the pain that was down this road. If he had even an inkling of what would happen if he went there...would he still have gone?
Yeah, actually, he would have. Damien was never one to let a challenge pass up. He was like that.