"Look at me Fray..." rasped the huddled Mass in the corner of an omni-expansive white room that that was completely void of shadow; a sharp, pungent smell of stale piss proceeded the statement as a familiar ,nauseating feeling formed in the pit of Fray's stomach.
The Mass quivered with a wry laugh "This is what your dreams are made of". The air rippled as "it" took a deep sigh while lifting "its" head to reveal a dark void ,swirling into an even darker abyss cloaked by a dingy, papyrus like material with indistinguishable markings all over it. Staring into the void ,he could feel a seething disdain coming from it; no,more like pure hatred for him. The Mass spoke again, this time, tinged with rancor: "How many millennia will avoid your fate!? Come and inherit your DESTINAAAA AAAA AAAA AAAA AAAA AAAA!!!"
The alarm sounded.
A strained sliver of light peeked between dated and equally unremarkable paisley curtains. These curtains have presided in this room at the genesis of its existence; so long in fact that they were more like the eyelid to the window of the room that was always half asleep. The curtains were gently wafted by an oscillating fan in the corner of the room that had the occasionally click, signifying the consistent use. The light danced back and forth directly into the left eye of Fray Enoch Murton. "It was just another nightmare" he thought as the wave of dread rolled off his shoulders. Many have had nightmares , but this dream in particular is reoccurring; for the past 3 months this nightmare has been plaguing the REM of Fray's subconscious.
This one that was so realistic that the strong odor from the terror lingered thick in the air. "God Dammit..." said the desolate 18 year old. He peeled back the thick duvet to reveal a damp stain all across his trunk. He had urinated himself...thoroughly. "What a way to start a birthday..." he thought to himself.