Mythology is chock full of tricksters.
They've existed since the dawn of humanity.
Hell, they've existed since the dawn of 'life'...
All those newborn unicellular ancestors learning how to get a laugh out of idiots as they proceeded to swarm the world.
Speaking of the miracle of life, a whole lot of that wondrous evolution happened in water, didn't it?
I'd been curious to see our modern iterations of all the creepy creatures that'd crawled out of all those toxic chemicals, and boy was I glad we didn't have to deal with those anymore.
Until I came across their successors in the pits of our deep dark oceans.
It is in the nature of darkness to hide away its accursed spawn, create monsters, creatures that seem like monsters to us anyway....
It is in the nature of humans to get offended by that which we do not understand.
Until we are forced to acknowledge the monster within.
Like those moments in books where the villain pulls out the cliched "We are not so different, you and I" card.
It's a cliché because it's been happening since the aforementioned dawn of time.
I just happened to have realised by then that I had one inside me.
...
Lucid dreaming.
Being aware that you're in the dream while you're in it.
A real life breaking-the-fourth-wall if you will.
I'd been there, done that enough times to be unimpressed when it happened that night.
I sat in a giant transparent cube dominating a huge white room without windows.
I've heard psychotherapists use such imagery for people who are self obsessed.
Fair enough.
No wonder she got in without my invitation. A more egotistical creature I had never seen.
Almost comically so.
I sat unblinking as a woman popped into existence in front of me.
Her legs stretched out in front of her in a relaxed pose, confident of her place in the universe... i.e. at the centre of it...
Because the first thing I noticed before anything else was that smug confidence on her face.
And I hated her instantly.
In my defence, it's pretty natural.
Vain people can't stand other vain people.
It's their instinctive need to compete.
To assess, judge, look for weak spots to console themselves.
Convince themselves of the superior height of their pedestal against the other.
The second thing I noticed was probably brought about by the goddamn barrage of hormones puberty had saddled me with.
She was unequivocally the most attractive person I had ever seen in my life.
I wondered at the audacity of human DNA to code and create such divinity ...in a thought that would haunt me with its pristine dark humour forevermore.
Hindsight- the friend who never ceases to tell you they told you so when they most definitely did not.
Golden eyes, long black curls, cherry red lips, round face, sheathed in a long robe with myriad shades of blue transitioning to a rich dark indigo with golden patterns all over it all the way to its end just above the ankles... I catalogued these details leisurely.
A beautiful woman visiting me in my dreams.
Who would judge me?
Well, I would, but only if I remembered.
And I usually didn't beyond the first 10 minutes of post sleep haze.
Although, I'm not sure I would have been able to look away had I wanted to.
Beauty like that doesn't allow itself to be ignored.
Does not accept anything less that spellbound standstills.
It's the thought of being under someone else's control in such a way that gets me rational again.
Because the third thing that comes to mind is the return of my defining feature.
Curiosity.
It's the devil, I tell you.
Makes you arm yourself with the mother of all double edged swords, betting on the side destined to be covered in blood.
So as her foolish husband looked on, Pandora stretched out her hand to accept the box.
Oh, curse it...
Curious cat's coffin!
Her look transitioned from mildly amused to surprised then delighted.
The look sent a chill down my spine.
"Haven't heard that one before..." she replied with a look that made me feel like an entertaining pet about to be petted for its sheer adorability.
"Heard what before?", I asked without missing a beat.
This conversation she'd started had reminded me of the fact that I was in a dream, props to my brain for coming up with something like her.
You've outdone yourself, noggin.
"'Curious cat's coffin...was it?", she asked, smiling more subtly as though hearing her own words, my words, sink in.
"I didn't realise I'd said that out loud." I said, getting on board this unreal ship of a conversation.
"Do you like cats too?", she asked casually.
"They're insufferable brats." I replied.
She raised an eyebrow.
"So of course I'm obsessed with them." I finish.
She nods sagely . "I've missed them."
"No cats where you come from?"
"Depends on your understanding of 'from'." She said this rather patronisingly, her following look of expectation irritated me enough to decide I wouldn't ask her what she meant by that... for now. I had a feeling I was gonna be seeing a lot of her. It was mildly disturbing that that made me a little excited so I decided to go the British route of shoving that to the curb to ask, "Can I have a cat, please?"
She tilted her head and looked at me with the kind of concern strangers have when they wonder if someone's got all their mental faculties intact.
I chose to ignored this.
"Hello?", this time I looked at the ceiling.
I sighed, maybe her presence had short circuited key neurones?
I did feel uncharacteristically off kilter right now...
"Oh, well. That usually works, you know?" I asked, turning to look at her face turn utterly discombobulated. It was honestly quite satisfying, especially on someone like her... looking at once like a young woman out to experience life yet quietly assured in her own worth.
"Calling for animals makes them appear before you?"
She spoke slowly, as though trying to convince a child the cartoon characters on television couldn't see her.
Surprisingly, it made me more amused than irritated.
"Only in my dreams." I replied.
"When I know I'm dreaming at least. I guess I just nudge it in a direction I want, usually it ends up where I want it to go."
This time, the look on her face was tougher to read, she looked almost... calculating ... and a little determined.
It was disconcertingly enthralling.
"Hmm... Does that mean you know I'm real?" She asked calmly.
Huh.
How meta is meta?
She looked like she was waiting for an answer and I didn't really want to hurt her feelings so I replied. "Of course, you are..." Her eyes narrowed by the barest fraction at my slow tone.
Maybe this was one of those philosophical dreams and she was my vanity personified, what would my vanity want to hear in a situation like this, I wondered?
Anyone who looked like her and been given such a stale reception might like-
The truth. I decided to go for the truth. It was already a ready made glorious complement.
"You feel too unreal. Like you can't exist in reality." I said.
It might've sounded cold, if not for the unintentional undercurrent of reverence that I caught too late.
After it, her smile turned quietly confident, knowing, but her eyes, they looked intrigued...and intriguing.
Even then I knew what she was.
Trouble.
Like the oceans that soothed and raged at their whims.
Gods were like that, capricious.
You never knew if it was fortune or misfortune to capture their interest.
But time would tell.