"Hall of Mirrors" Short Story, Richard13-11-7

May 13, 2010
It was the most horrifying dream I’ve ever had. Yet it seemed to tell me something. A horrible truth that I’ve been hiding or that I haven’t realized. Like a truth so great in shame and grief that I’ve forced myself to forget it, and succeeded in forgetting long ago.
Maybe it was an omen of some sort. Maybe it was a vision from my future that was trying to warn me of some bad event that’ll happen sooner or later, possibly foretelling me of my doom or of the fate of one of my loved ones.
Or maybe it was telling me of something that had arisen within me. Like an emotion or a thought that had corrupted me. Maybe I’ve developed a feeling of hatred for someone that I love dearly, or feel prideful of an action that I’ve done that really isn’t worth the pride. Could I have been overcome by a sense of greed or selfishness?
At the moment I really don’t know. All I know is that the feeling I have of the horror and the fear that I had of the dream seems… familiar, but foreign… close, yet distant… harmless, and merciless. This feeling… like a dozen people in a single room, arguing and fighting with each other. Fighting over not only what to think about this dream but what to do about it, like a case in court where order is none and chaos is all.
Maybe I should tell you my dream. Maybe then you’ll understand. Maybe then you can give me some advice or direction.

I dreamed I was in a long hallway, a hallway that seemed to be as endless as the continuing reflections of two mirrors parallel to each other. Within this hall to one side stood tall full length mirrors as far as the walls.
The stone arches that bordered these mirrors were of grape vines twisting around and doves perched on the vines. The keystone of the arch was crested with an emblem of a magnificent dragon flying skyward into beams of heavenly light.
Within the mirror I saw myself looking much like myself, but the only difference was that I was wearing a suit of armor. Armor that was bright with angelic colors of sky blue and white lined with gold. The helm of this suit was shaped like the head of the magnificent dragon with a long head of silky, smooth white hair fell from the back like a lion’s mane.
In my reflections right hand I found myself holding a razor-sharp sword. It’s long, thin blade of a steal both light with color and weight. The swords guards were shaped like the dragon’s wings with its magnificence and sleekness. The hilt of the sword was two of the dragon’s hands griping a pure, blue pearl the size of one of my knuckles.
On my reflections left arm was a shield of the same colors as the armor and a similar shape to the keystone. Upon the face of the shield was the same emblem engraved on the keystone of the arch. In this emblem the dragon was white, its eyes were angelic blue, and the beams of light were golden and bright.
Over all I was amazed by the look and feel of my reflection I saw. I thought I would stare at it for all of eternity. But I saw myself turn around to see the other side of the hall.
On the other side was the same design with many differences. On the arches there were on grape vines or doves. Instead there were twisted chains tangling bones and skulls. Perched on them were ugly vultures that were poking their beaks at the hanging skeletons. The keystone had a different emblem; one that had a more evil monster of a dragon lurking in the shadows of a dark tunnel
In the mirror I saw myself much like myself as before, but in this reflection I saw I was dressed in armor that was dull with darkness, colored with dark blues and shadowy blacks, lined with the color of dark, fresh blood. The helm was of the monstrous dragon with its blood drenched teeth stretched to cover my reflections face like bloody bars of a prison cell, a similar mane of hair flowed from the back but it was black and slotted with blood.
In my reflections right hand was a long, black, blood stained saber. Its guard and hilt were shaped like bones with small bits of flesh still attached to them. Knicks and scratches scared the blade from what seemed to be thousands of dark, bleak, bloody battles.
The same emblem of the monstrous dragon was engraved on the shield. The dragons body dark blue, its eyes, fangs, and claws blood red, its essence black and dark. It seemed to stare back at me with murder in its heart.
Suddenly the mirror shattered, and as if it were only glass, the black warrior was standing right there as if it were just standing there the whole time. Just as quickly and suddenly he jumped at me with such speed that if it were in slow motion you’d still only see a flash of darkness flying at unrecognized speed heading at me.
But just as fast a streak of light flashed in front of me and stopped the black warrior. It was the white warrior from the other mirror. Their blades locked in a test of strength. Soon they were flying around the room on their own sets of dragon wings, clashing their swords and shields in a battle to the finish, a battle to the death.
With each crash of blades or shields an explosion of blinding light and blinding darkness erupted, sending a ripple of force through my very soul. With each blast of light and darkness my spirit felt clutched and torn. At this moment this didn’t seem to be a dream, it felt like a real battle between good and evil.
I grew more and more terrified as the battle raged. And it seemed as if the more fearful I grew, the weaker the white warrior seemed. At one point I was so horrified that I was paralyzed while curled up in a ball on the floor. It was at that point that the white warrior seemed to give in.
With one final blast the black warrior threw the white warrior to the ground head first. The crash would’ve killed a normal person, but the two warriors didn’t seem to be mortal. It seemed more like they were the essences of light and dark… good and evil… mercy and cruelty.
With his last bit of strength the white warrior looked up at me with a look that begged me to do something. I wanted to do something, honest, but what could I do? I have no wings, no weapon, no magical power or any of that. I was just as helpless as he was.
The black warrior swooped down, standing over the damaged body of the white warrior. His mouth twisted into a cruel, evil, bloody, dark smile behind the prison bar teeth. He grabbed the throat of his white counterpart and lifted him face to face. With the shine of his dark, blood colored eyes he tightened his grip and swung his black saber for the last time, slicing right through the white warrior’s neck.
His body quickly turned to dust and with a final blast of light I was rocketed from the spot a lied and…

And that’s when my alarm went off, waking me from the horrible dream.
Now that you know the dream that I’ve dreamed what do you think? Is it an omen, a sign, or just a bad dream? Did it have meaning, did it have a purpose, or was it some random set of details?

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