The plan brewed in my mind like a psychotic concoction, a risky gamble in the face of the unknown.
Jumping from the office window, a descent into the comfortable concrete, a dance with death itself.
Kichil would surely believe that I lost my sanity, driven to the edge by my deepest fears.
But the risk was great, the consequences terrible. At least, broken bones and some shattered hopes.
Yet in this madness, a slim chance for victory was still there and I could see it. Because when I would land on the ground, Kichil would definitely descend upon me like a vulture predator, seeking to tear at my mind, to break me beyond repair.
It was a gamble, a roll of the dice in the game of survival. If I failed, if my bones shattered and my body lay paralyzed, Kichil would have an easy victory.
Buuuuuuuut if I succeeded, if I could withstand this impact, then perhaps, just perhaps, I could emerge a winner like usual, from this darkness that threatened to consume me.
I stuck with the plan, come hell or high water. With a shatter of glass and a roar, I catapulted myself out of the window. This free fall felt like a dance with destiny, a leap of faith into my plans.
Mid-air, I caught sight of Kichil, that little son of a bitch, lurking behind a boulder like a stalker in the night. When I hit the ground, I'm gonna tell you this, it wasn't pretty; bones snapped like dry twigs, but I can endure it because my goals are stronger than pain, and, I wouldn't let a mere small convenience like this nobody stop my upcoming plans.
Kichil walked over to check up on me, his eyes glinting with a mix of malice and curiosity.
"You want me to take away the hurt?" he offered, his voice filled with fake empathy. "I can fix you up, easy as pie. All you gotta do is help me find something real precious-like, something hidden away in that head of yours."
This fool must've thought I had the memory of a goldfish, but little did he know, I've mastered the lucid dream world ages ago.
But, I played along, for fun.
My fake desperation dripped from every word: "Yes, sir, please! Relieve me of this agony, and I'll owe you everything."
He grinned, a wolf amongst sheep, and said, "On your feet, then. I'll heal your wounds so you can walk. But remember, once I'm done, you must trust your gut, lead the way, and I'll find what I need. Once I've got it, I'll help you break free from this nightmare. I can make you a king, turn your world upside down. Anything your heart desires, I can deliver."
Smart, that guy. Thinks he's got me pegged, thinks he can just go in and snatch my secrets like he's picking apples off a tree.
Nah, not today, buddy. He helps me up, patches me up like some kind of twisted Florence Nightingale. But I ain't no damsel in distress, no sir.
So I will give him a little taste of my own medicine, a sweet right hook that he dodged but followed by a mean left uppercut right on that defined chin of his. And yes! Down he goes, blood in his mouth, teeth on the ground.
Guess those boxing classes I took for years weren't such a waste after all.
He howled his words with venomous rage, "You worthless shit! Think you can deceive me with this pathetic act? You're lower than filth, a damned abomination. I'll tear you apart from the inside out, let my terror consume you!"
I smirked defiantly and retorted, "Bring it on, little bitch."
Watch how he dodged the first punch, remember? If he dodges it means that means he's hurting in the real world if damaged here in the dream world.
Perfect. It's not even a gamble anymore, I can practically see the future, I am the fucking Messiah.
He rose from the ground, his heart pounding like a jackhammer, and charged towards a big rock formation. I chased after him, my senses on high alert.
Suddenly, with a touch of his hand, the stone morphed into a colossal golem, a nightmare coming to life in this twisted reality.
I couldn't keep pace with his mad sprints, forced to face the monstrous creation.
The golem attacked me with titanesque force, its massive fists swinging like wrecking balls. I dodged his blows, my heart racing with primal fear.
I then leaped onto its arm, running towards its big head. But my futile punch only resulted in a broken hand, pain blossoming like a bloody flower.
The Golem then counter-attacked with a brutal blow to my face, which made my left eye go blind. I staggered back, bloodied and battered, but I was still determined to win, losing was never on my agenda.
As I struggled to rise from the ground, a single thought echoed in my mind: What now? What is the plan?
The only solution left was a tactical retreat. I ran, mind racing for a new strategy to defeat this big-ass adversary. But retreat proved no easy feat.
Do you know why?
Well, ever dream you're being pursued, then your legs feel like jelly, every step a baby crawl? That's precisely what happened to me, a cruel comedy in the face of danger.
Still, I kept on running, relentless in my flight.
Then, a sinister twist of plot: my legs sank into an unseen muddle.
Quicksand it is—a fitting metaphor for my difficult situation, a sinking sensation both literal and metaphorical.
The quicksand was pulling me down inch by inch as the golem slowly closed in. With half of my body already submerged, the golem's strike came swift and hard, but I managed to shield myself with my arms, lowering the damage of the blow.
Finally swallowed whole by Mother Earth, I found myself sinking into darkness, landing in what seemed to be a dungeon straight out of a Hellraiser movie.
This place reeked of despair, a cozy place where Kichil, the tormentor, held control over the minds of his cursed victims.
As I rose to my feet, the darkness seemed to deepen, the candles igniting of their own accord, which definitely meant that Kichil was here.
The room was a painting of horror, with blood staining every surface and the remnants of the dead scattered about like discarded toys. But I knew these were just illusions, designed to scare me.
Suddenly, without warning, four chains materialized out of nowhere, snaking their way around my limbs and rendering me completely immobile.
Finally, Kichil, our dark star, made his presence known. "Resistance is futile," he declared with chilling finality. "I am omnipotent within this realm of dreams. And now, Magician, I shall delve into the deepest oceans of your mind, by any means necessary."
Kichil moved closer while brandishing a machete with a malevolent gleam in his eye.
Each clang of his machete echoed like a death reverberation in the dungeon's confines.
With deliberate menace, he began to etch the walls with the machete.
What is awaiting me?