Kätzchen

Reoccuring dreams are fun because of how much detail I can get if I piece them all together. This is one of those dreams where I managed to draw a lot of detail from six separate nights [I love tape recorders] and mesh them together. Yes, I do know a few words in German. Very few. Te jabberwocky part was just in English the first few times but after a discussion with an online friend... and having him sing the German version to me... well, I guess it stuck in my head.

In the shadows, I saw him ascend. He alighted on the moon and watched me with eyes like the wise oak caught aflame.

Kommen sie, Kätzchen.

Kommen sie.

I'm drawn up and out of the blood - Materializing from it and the shadows envelop me like spider silk. There's a ringing in my ears that slowly fades away as my vision clears. The dress conforms to my body from my chest to my thighs flowing out behind me while softer silk bands wrap around my upper arms and drape down into flowing sleeves. I can still feel trickles of blood dripping from my hair down my exposed back, red tears slowly descend from my cheeks, down my neck and dance across my collarbone. A soft wind caresses me and covers me in warmth drying my hair and brushing away the blood. I look up at the swirling gray sky and then scan the barren wasteland before me. Whispers of words tickle the back of my mind and I'm driven forward.

As I'm walking barefoot across the rusty red plain, I can't help but wonder where the clouds have gone. A chortling and snorting chorus attracts my attention back to earth and I blink at the pig-like creatures suddenly spawning from the soil. Each of them jumps into action when their cloven hooves hit the ground and they begin rooting around in the dirt ravenously. One of them, not too far from where I'm standing, squeals delightfully. The others rush to the squealer but they're too late - it has already devoured the truffle treasure it found and they all go back to rooting around in the dirt. I keep walking and they pay me no mind. Suddenly one squeals, a different sound, it's urgent, filled with terror, and I whip around in time to see the giant tentacles lash out of the ground and tangle around the pig creature only a few feet from me. The bile green tentacles make a suckling noise as they wrap around the pig and suddenly rip it into five pieces. The blood sprays in a violent arc and splatters across my face. As the blood touches my flesh, it sends electric jolts coursing through my nerves and a disgusting shiver runs up my spine. I can't help but shudder and then watch the pig beast's parts, its head still squealing, disappear beneath the earth.

The blood splatter is almost star-shaped and from it greenery begins to grow. The life fluid snakes out from its puddle like it has a life of its own. From the green stems, saffrons and orchids bloom in all shades of purple, violet and red. They branch out following a breath behind the slithering blood trail. I realize they're coming closer to me. Closer and closer and I stop and watch them intently. They rear up as they approach me and spiral around me in a strange, undulating dance. I'm hypnotized, mesmerized and completely entranced. I sway, stagger and almost fall back but someone catches me and pulls me from between the bars of my scarlet prison. Arms wrap around me and carry me away as the blood continues to serpentine through the landscape bringing it to life with colour. My savior sets me down and I look up into his serene face. His long hair falls to his back like a waterfall of ink and frames his sharp features. His hazel eyes seem to uncoil my mind and open my soul to him. Only after noticing his pointed ears do I realize his lower half is that of a horse. The grey-blue body with black stripes travelling from his coal hooves to his knees shine in the rising sun. He swishes his jet-black tail and restlessly stomps one of his hooves. I smile at him and he touches my cheek. I raise my hand to his face but as my fingers leave the shade of him, it touches the sunlight and suddenly begins to burn. I gasp, tears welling up in my eyes, and he wraps me in his arms again with a hateful glare at the sun. Gathering me into his arms, he leaps into a furious gallop.

As the centaur traverses the endless sea of flowers, I look over his shoulder to see the sunlight combusting each and every newborn saffron and orchid charring the landscape into a rust-coloured wasteland once more. The light kisses my face and it burns horribly. I yelp and bury my face in the centaur's chest. I feel his heart pounding against his ribcage as he forces himself into a furious pace. Suddenly we're in the shade again and he skids to a stop. I warily open my eyes and we're in the shade of a balcony. He sets me down and we watch the rest of the flowers wither away. I look on, helpless, and suddenly sad. I feel an arm around me and hug the centaur. He smiles, brushes the ash from the healed burns on my face and hands, then strokes my hair before gently guiding me into the building. I walk into the bar, barefoot and still speckled with dry blood, and I feel all the eyes of the patrons on me. The centaur steps up next to me, I can hear his hooves, and they all look away again. He points to a table and we sit there in the only limelight. The pub smells of pine wood and tar. He orders for me in a language I don't understand and reassures me with another calm smile.

The waitress, who's in a maid's outfit but I can't see her face, brings us back our food and drinks. He has a ramen dish with sliced pork and I'm suddenly reminded of the pig beast that was dragged into the earth by those tentacles. He urges me to try the drink. I look at it and notice the oyster in the shot glass. Oyster shooters. We touch the glasses together, smile and throw back the drink. It's almost too salty and the vodka hits the back of my throat like paint thinner choking it closed and pervading my nostrils. I'm still trying to get a grip on the drink when I realize he's talking to me. I look down at my food and even the noodles are reminding me of those awful tentacles. The centaur is talking out of both sides of his mouth, very casually, and I notice his legs wriggling. Politely, I excuse myself and the waitress shows me to the bathroom. She stays right behind me and I know she's right outside the bathroom door even as I try to lock it quietly. I try not to panic, try to keep the fear at bay, I look for a window, an exit, anything. Feeling a cloying fog closing in around me, I curl up in a corner on the black and white tiled floor. An ooze starts pouring in beneath the door looking too much like liquified liver. Something begins banging vehemently against the door and I see the tiny little sliding lock rattle. I close my eyes tightly and I hear the whispering voice again.

Kommen sie, Kätzchen.

Kommen sie.

My eyes fly open and I scream viciously. The ooze, startled, jumps back and away from me. A force bursts through the ceramic wall next to me and I huddle in the corner as rubble flies everywhere. A sibilant roar echoes out and as the dust settles the burning eyes of the dragon beckon me. The waitress finally bursts through, tentacles spewing from her lipstick smeared mouth, she shrieks and I bolt for the hole in the wall. The dragon spits at her and leaps into the sky just as I crawl onto his shoulders. Whipping his armoured tail at the building, shaking it to its foundations, the dragon takes flight. I hold on tightly burying myself in his bright orange mane. Running a hand over his black scales, I notice their opalescent reflection of the moonlight. It's night again, I breathe a little easier. I gaze down as the dragon arches in the air and swoops over the crumbling building. I see the black ooze leak out from the windows as it collapses in on itself and tentacles leap out, flailing in abject submission. I feel the hot tears streaking my face before I even know I'm crying. A deep thrumming sound vibrates in my chest. I see the dragon's eye looking at me with empathy. He wasn't really evil - the medication just made it that way. I bow my head in silence for the centaur warrior before we reach the whispy clouds in the high atmosphere. I drift asleep lying across the dragon's spine and in my dreams I hear the quiet voice again.

Zeit, Kätzchen, zeit.

I wake up in a mess of blankets close to a fire place. The heat is nice but so superficial. I feel so cold even in the heaps of plush and pillows. It's a little hard to move, I sink into the cushions like unstable snow, but finally manage to slide my way down the heap and to the floor. Straightening my dress, I nearly jump out of my skin as someone touches my arm. I spin around expecting another tentacle creature but I'm only met with a hooded figure. I feel him smile and a shift in the long forest green robe brings my attention to his spaded tail. I look back into the shadow of his hood and smile. He holds out the crook of his arm and I take it willingly. Leading me down a hallway lined with all kinds of clocks, hourglasses, balances, metronomes and those Newton Cradles - different sizes and colours and sounds and moving of their own volition. I admire them and then admire him. Even though I can't see him, I just have this sense of what he looks like, who he might be. I feel his tail softly brush against my leg and blush a little. A shadow at the end of the hallway draws our attention.

"'Twas brillig and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.

All mimsy were the borogroves

And the momeraths outgrabe!"

I find myself singing along with the bouncy, slightly intangible Cheshire Cat. He looks exactly like Alice's Cheshire Cat and I pet him lovingly as he saunters by. I sing the rest of the Jabberwocky poem with him and the cloaked one joins in too. He sings it in German though and the Cheshire Cat replies in French.

"Es brillig war. Die schlichte Toven

Wirrten und wimmelten in Waben;"

"Tout flivoreux allaient les borogoves;

Les verchons fourgus bourniflaient!"

I applaud them both and we continue, Cheshire Cat at our heels, into a grand hall. There's a giant chandelier hanging from the stars above and the moon makes the crystals sparkle almost happily. He pulls me onto the dance floor and some ghostly creatures take up places on the stage. Violin, piano, cello, flute - soft and serene music. I can't actually remember the last time I danced - that graceful ballroom dancing no one knows how to do anymore. We're spinning and spinning and just as the hood falls back and I might glimpse his face, I'm falling away from it all.

I jolt up in bed, falling in a mess of blankets to the floor... Ich liebe dich, Kätzchen. Ich liebe dich.