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douglas w carter

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Liger...but in a dream
by douglas w carter   

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A writer learns that dreams are not just dreams, as a faceless man makes himself known. Dreams are anothers reality and vice versa.

Douglas W Carter

301-533-0543 LIGER… BUT A DREAM


In a place in your mind, somewhere far back beyond the thoughts of bills and work and responsibilities exists your place. It’s yours and yours alone this place, you keep it sacred

and precious. Whether it be a day at the beach playing with your children while a cool spring breeze blows kissing your cheek, it’s yours. Laying among the green grass atop a hill just a bit past the workaday world and it’s worries, it’s your place. In a room at the end of a hall of your home, a room designed by you for you to seek peace and tranquility, it’s your place. Maybe decorated with books you have never read, nor will you ever read.

Pictures you have decided make you feel secure, pictures that take you to your place the second you enter that room. Your place can be and is located anywhere and nowhere. In your mind it is that very special place that no one can enter, destroy or take from you. In my minds eye my place is deep within the confines of rock and stone. My place is not found on any known map, nor is it located in places most would wish to venture. Deep in a near frozen wasteland is my place, the very highest point of a mountain that doesn’t exist.

In that mountain is a small opening to my place, just a small enough opening for one to pass through. The walls inside are covered with plush blankets of every color imaginable. The floor is lined with shag carpet the color of a moonless night. I have all the amenities needed for a stay as long as an eternity. A grand 80 inch plasma screen television, a digital video recorder, a collection of video’s that spans into the thousands.

Across the room I have a bed the size of four king size beds, and more pillows than any department store could ever carry. In my bathroom located to the left of the bed are the usual items found, a Jacuzzi, a marble toilet and sink, and a walk in shower the size of most walk in closets. To the right I have my master kitchen, everything that exists in the kitchen is completely white. Like the kitchen you would probably find in heaven, is the kind you find in my place. Four stairs lead to a bar filled with alcohol that is never tasted, the floor is partially covered with a thick white area rug. Dome lights span the length of the ceiling, but does not fill the room with yellowish light. Instead warm white light glows from the ceiling, it can also shine according to the persons feelings and emotions.

Red for anger, white for happy, orange for sad and so on. An enormous set of wall panels

can rotate a 180 revealing food, instead of the old tired refrigerators. On the wall is a master panel with the switches to operate anything within the room, a remote can also be pulled from the wall whenever one wishes to walk about the room. Music from every artist, every genre and from every culture can be found on the remote, but classical soothing sounds of nature are usually is what is playing when the remote is not in use.

Down two or three steps in the white room is where an elegant couch is positioned directly in front of a 60 inch television. For those times in my mind when I want to be away from my shag carpet, or to watch things in another environment. Lastly a glass enclosed balcony is where I can sit in my swinging chair and watch passing snow storms, or watch the world go by without worrying about wasting time or the worlds explanations of time that is wasted.

That world of mine that is peaceful and without care or concern, that world which no one person can take from me, that single world where I within my mind can control fate as I see fit….is slowly becoming no longer mine. You would say ``How can someone take that which exists only in your desires, in your very dreams?’’ Dreams are reality that simply has or has not come true, nothing more. Again you ask ``Your dreams are your own until made into reality, they stay within you until you bring them out. How then can someone affect that which is but a dream?’’ That was the very same question I asked…that was until my dreams started to fall apart, or come alive to be more accurate.


I woke everyday the same as the day before it, with a handful of pills. Not drugs per say, supplements of every kind. A multi-vitamin, a blue pill for energy, a large chalky white pill for extra vitamin c, and a pill for pain since at 35 your back sometimes acts up. Many other pills to but none worth mentioning. Scratching my near bald head and rubbing my eyes, brushing my teeth and gargling. Slowly trudging my way to the kitchen of this drafty house, I notice the usual boring sights. A cracked window and torn screen in the kitchen window, a ceiling fans blades caked with what appeared to be crud from the gas stove. A few large trash bags filled to capacity, and smelling of feet and death. I yank the fridge door open to see what’s edible, cheese, cottage cheese, cheese cake, cheese puffs. How the heck did they get in there? Man I eat a lot of cheese type products, nothing that good to eat. The coffee maker I set last night is hot, but I forgot to buy milk. Coffee with sugar I guess it is, beggars can’t be choosers. I plop down into my very uncomfortable writing chair ( likely the reason for my back problems ) and read what I had written the night before. Well it wasn’t exactly night, more like 4am to be accurate. I chew on my lip and mumble to myself, I bet to a fly on the wall it would seem like I was crazy talking to myself. Writers keep strange hours I have noticed, about 3-5am would be about a normal bedtime. My wife and young son are usually up before me, meaning I get up a few hours after I fall asleep. Like everyday I am asked ``How did you sleep?’’ and like everyday I respond with a mumble meaning I didn’t sleep much at all. I did however manage to dream but I would never tell my wife about my dreams because they would be met with another strange look as if I were odd. What writer isn’t a little odd, you have to I believe in order to come up with some of the stories I have read from writers out there.

I dreamt about my place again, I dreamt about the rug and my white room. About the awesome view from my swinging chair atop the mountain. It was a place I didn’t want to ever leave. Someone I never met before was in my dream, my very own safe place that none living in any realm should be aloud to roam. I had once thought that your dreams were your own, but that isn’t the whole truth. That’s not the way it works or at least that’s not what the guy in my dream said. According to him every dream dreamt as it turns out is really on loan to you from another source. If indeed it is your original dream, then you better believe someone down the line will be having it. Have you ever told someone your dream and they tell you they to had the same kind of dream? I bet you have and so have I, as it turns out they may have lived a dream that you have lived of someone else’s. Confused…. don’t worry if your not you soon will be. I never tell anyone about my dreams because according to society dreams are a window to your soul, and I don’t want anyone looking in my windows. Bunch of peeping Toms they are. Like always I log my dreams in my mental logbook and not on paper that anyone could pick up. Diaries are just as bad to, I mean it’s got a lock on the thing that’s just begging to be opened. So I wake and enter the details into my mind knowing at the time that those details will remain closed from societies prying eyes. As I said though that was until today, and apparently my private dreams are being had by others. Though hidden from society by not writing them down, they seem to be open to society without society knowing it. So after that dream I asked myself ``Can I keep my dreams hidden and if so how?’’

I would go through my day eating lunch, dinner and spending time with ``The Family.’’

Then it was off to write the details, far to many details than I had paper for. A slight deviation from my writing plans, after returning from the local market I sat back down and again started writing. My fingers would fall asleep I wrote so much, but the details had to be written. As I was getting older remembering wasn’t what it was as a teenager.

None the less I wrote and wrote till cramps set in, and by that time it was time to get some needed rest. I was excited since I knew a higher purpose was about to take place in my dreams, it was like reading your favorite book and told to go to bed. You were to excited to sleep but you knew you must in order for the day to arrive. I was an adult and found myself excited for the first time in a very long time. I lay for nearly an hour of tossing and turning before I drifted off to sleep.

My eyes opened and I saw my enormous bed and knew I was asleep. I looked about the room for a clue, a piece of information that would tell me my last dream wasn’t a mistake. Being detail oriented so were my dreams, as everything within the room was in order and not a mess. I slinked through my dream place like a ninja on a secret mission, if in the real world this would appear very silly. The shag carpet was still shaggy, the bed still huge, the room still white as snow and my big 80 inch television was still….??

My television was not as it was, it in fact had a crack in the bottom left corner of the screen. A dream can differ from person to person, as can the details but originally your dreams were your own. Knowing that that had changed didn’t make me any less surprised

at the crack in my screen. If there was a crack then there were only two possible reasons why, either someone cracked it having my dream as their own or someone was in here with me!! Someone perhaps the same man from the other time I slept, he was an unusual sort if I do say so myself. A long stringy beard coming from what I assume was his chin, but I never really saw his face. He had a beat up old robe that could have belonged to Moses, it looked that old to. I summoned enough courage and spoke aloud ``Hey is anyone there?!’’ Apparently not, well I guess…

I am here. Is there anything I can do for you my young friend?

I looked at the same figure I had seen the other dream ago, same old filthy robe and scraggly beard.

Scraggly beard? I must object sir because my beard is not scraggly.

He pulls back his beard to reveal….Oh crap!! He doesn’t have a face, I mean he has a head but no actual face. No nose, mouth or eyes just a small beard.

As I mentioned before my beard is not scraggly, but my ear hair is quite a mess. The reason I have no mouth, eyes or nose is because you have not thought me up any. And honestly I can hear your thoughts so thinking your every word is unnecessary.

Apparently the old guy…oops sorry I forgot, but how can you hear my thoughts?

This is a dream isn’t it…or is it? Now are you going to think me up a face or am I going to have to stand here without one? To do so is very rude, I mean I have heard of standing and talking to someone without a head but without a face…dreadful very dreadful.

Umm ok let me see now. You could have kind blue eyes, a strong jaw and tight lipped mouth, and a button nose.( a literal button nose appears ) Hmm that will never do, a nose like my own then.

Ah now that is much better, you my friend have good taste in facial features. So I imagine you have many questions, and as it happens I have many answers. So let us proceed in the standard Q&A session shall we?

Yeah lets do that. Well let me see… first off what is your name?

My name…well I am not sure, what is my name?

You don’t know your name? ( Now I have got to wonder if he has a few screws loose. )

I heard that.

Uh sorry I keep forgetting. What is your name, I mean you have to have a name. Have you ever had a name?

Oh yes I have had many, many names in the past. I have been known to many on many levels. Far to many names to remember them all actually.

Oh man don’t tell me your God now?

God? No I have never been called that name, is that the name you would like to call me?

No not really, to many people have already thought themselves to be God. Instead I think your name is…Shamus. I don’t know but you kind of look like a Shamus. Well I guess the next question I have is what is going on in my dreams? I always thought dreams were specifically original to those having them, just as a person is unique so are their dreams?

You may be surprised to hear this but dreams are not exactly their own or your own, but that of a combined group of ingredients that makes up the dream. Dreams are fragments of peoples lives, mixed in with their wishes and hopes and finally sprinkled with a dash of imagination. It is what you desire most that eventually gives birth to that dream.

But if dreams are wishes and hopes then why are they not separate and unique as they should be?

My dear boy whoever said they should be? Dreams are a larger portion of life than people realize, but it doesn’t mean that dreams should be completely the property of those who have them. There have been some wonderful dreams in the history of existence, but your dreams are not yours and yours alone.

So your saying that the ironic occasions when someone shares a dream with someone else, that it isn’t a coincidence?

Indeed!! Now your getting it. Details in a dream can often change without a soul noticing, and up till this point no soul has noticed…not one single soul. Not one but you Douglas!!


How do you know my….huh what the? Awake man that was a dream like none I have ever had. That Shamus guy seemed a bit on the weird side, like a kindly old grandfather type but creepier. Now I’m not sure I want to go back to sleep, but I have to find out more. Much more in fact but without the family finding out. So as I had always done I kept the dreams to myself, can’t get anyone else involved besides who would believe me?

Looking like the cat who ate the rat, I sat with my mouth shut tight. It was a bit odd though how someone could hear my thoughts like that, I was convince a month ago that I knew what dreams were and the rules surrounding them. You fall asleep and after a while you are in a happy dream place or as in a nightmare your in your own worst dream. Either way you knew that it was just that…a dream, and nothing more. I ate something for dinner that night I can’t really say what, I was distracted but understandably so. That night I wrote for only one or two hours, I mean I wanted to do what I said I never would. That night I wrote my dreams down for the first time in forever, I guess you can never say never.

3:00am and barely anything written for my new book, maybe a few pages but nothing considered significant. The wife went to bed around midnight or so and my son hours before that. The house seems much more quiet than before, maybe I just lucked out and found some peaceful time to write or maybe it’s something altogether different. I leave the television on most times when I write because I never know when some character may say something that will lead to motivation towards the manuscript. I have listened to commercials and found information that led me to completing a book once, you never know really. I think flipping through the channels might be fun, it couldn’t hurt. The sports channel, Nick at Nite, old westerns, infomercials…hmm do I need a juicer…no,

hey wait it includes kitchen knives…no never mind…ah here we go Cartoons!! ``Here he comes, here comes Speed Racer he’s a demon on wheels… asleep and I didn’t see it coming.

Well I am back in my …sleep place…hmm something seems off but I can’t see what. Oh yeah my wonderful 80 inch television is smashed all to pieces!! Hey Shamus!! Shamus where are you my new odd friend!!

Shamus…is that what he’s calling himself this day? A shame to since at one time he used to be a very good person, whatever good is anymore.

Who are you and can you read my thoughts?

I am Liger and the only beings who read another beings thoughts are those not worth trusting or knowing.

Are you worth trusting or knowing?

Only you can be the judge of that. What are you called friend?

My name is Douglas…maybe you can answer a few questions Liger.

I will try to help in anyway that I can, but keep in mind that the answers may not always be the one’s you seek.

Understood, the person now known as Shamus…who the heck is he really. He didn’t exactly say and he came off as a little odd…creepy really. I just felt that he was hiding something.

You are smart to feel that way because he takes many shapes and is known by many names. He is a former Dream Weaver, a being that by our law is supposed to harness the power of dreams through the dream orb and redirect them back. Have you ever had a very good dream and wished it never ended?

Yeah many actually.

It is the energy from the orb once redirected that makes it possible for those very wonderful kind of dreams to be had. The orb contained years of energy within itself that was ready to be redirected towards those with a highly creative imagination. It is those who are that imaginative who paint great works, write amazing plays or novels and even play unbelievable heart felt songs. Dreams are your feelings, your best that you have to offer as a race. Shamus as he is now called has stolen the orb and kept it’s power as his own, without the orb the power cannot be harnessed and redirected. He plans to harness the power for himself turning your world into the dream world, and our world into the new reality. With that much power he could rule your world completely, our world would no longer exist since we never sleep. You have that kind of mind that is truly exceptional, you one day will write works greater than ever read. It is for this reason why he has contacted you, to see if the one spoke of in our legend is actually here. He wishes to use you, to harness your vivid dreams and make them great. Your dreams up till this point have granted him great power, and he will stop at nothing to leave the dream world and rule your own.

Oh man…I am utterly speechless…ok no I’m not but that sucks none the less. Wait a minute, if he took over our world that means my wife and son would…

Yes I know…become dreams themselves. Forced to serve him…FOREVER!!


Awake…what do I do? Do I tell them or what, they would think I was nuts. Maybe they would understand, yeah and maybe I’ll turn into superman in 3..2..1..maybe not. Life and dream merged as one making life a bit hard to deal with. Arguments happened more frequently and the publishers were on my back about finishing the book. How could I work when in my dreams is a fight to save this world and those in the dream world? I have to say something, I’ll do it tonight. I tried to live like nothing was going on, patching up the scar in my marriage with heart felt words. I spent less time writing and didn’t care what the heck the publishers said. That night instead of a bedtime story I told a story of another kind to my son, one that was not fiction but utter fact.

Dad tell me something that isn’t from Mother Goose, maybe with guns and bad guys.

Son life is not always about the body count or how ugly the bad guy is, life is what were doing right here. It’s about spending time with each other and enjoying the time we all have here on the planet.

Dad are you dieing or something?

Why do you ask that, you don’t have a hit on me or anything do you?

Dad be serious. It’s just that Billy’s dad had cancer and he said the same thing right before he died. Billy’s dad hid everything up till the very end and died. So if your going to die you better tell me before my birthday, only so you can see my happy face when I am opening presents…you understand.

Yeah and thanks for all the love son, and for your information NO I am not going to die any time soon so stop worrying. And to put your mind at ease I will try to live long enough to hand you your presents on birthday number 8.

Thanks dad I just thought I would mention it since I know how much you love cake and all. So what’s the story for tonight?

The story is a new one and it’s pie not cake that I love. The story for tonight is…( I told my son the story as it happened leaving out myself as the main character, I wanted to gauge his response first before I told him it was me or anything. I believe on occasion it’s fine to smooth out the edges of bad news instead of telling an outright lie, protecting their fragile emotions and everything. Besides the story was pretty interesting, much more so than the stories I would usually read him. ) …and that’s all of the story I am going to tell you tonight.

Wow that was AWESOME!! Best story you read me in a long time. Can you imagine seeing all that neat stuff? Except for that creepy old guy who didn’t have a face at first.

So you like the story do you? Yeah I think it might be cool if I went there, seeing all that weird stuff would kind of be a change from the day to day things.

Yeah and if there were any bad guys you could kick their butts right dad?

Yeah kick their butts…uh son I wonder if those things actually happened what would you think? I mean you wouldn’t think your dear old dad was nuts or anything, would you?

Hmm no I think if that happened things would be cool. I think my dad being a monster fighting tough guy would be really cool, plus mom and you would probably stop fighting all the time.

You noticed huh? Yeah I guess we have been doing a little arguing now and then, but we are trying to patch things up for you.

Now and then dad? Now and then people catch a cold, what you and mom do is fight like crazy. All the time to, you guys aren’t going to get a divorce are you?

Now I don’t think it’ll come to that so stop worrying, now you go to bed and don’t jump on the bed when I close the door either. ( I kissed his forehead and gave him a hug knowing that it would be our little secret, or at least I thought it would be. )

I walked slowly and quietly through the halls as I did when everyone else was getting ready for bed. Stepping on toys now and then, but trying very hard not to make a lot of noise. I was a smoker still so I went outside and lit up a cigarette. My son and I were close so he should be able to keep the story secret from his mother right? -------------

I awoke the next day and began to notice a few things gone, not like the place was robbed or anything. Toys gone, clothes, the wife’s things…it was obvious now. My wife took our son after he leaked my story and told me she would maybe return once I was more stable emotionally. I can’t say that I blame her really, I mean who the heck would believe a story like that anyways? So as it seemed I was on my own, sleep alone, eat alone and dream alone. I felt more alone when the publisher cancelled my contract with them, stating a breach in contract.

The only calls I received were from bill collectors and wrong numbers, I should have expected it. The one positive call I would receive would be when my wife allowed my son a once a day call. Sleep is my only escape and sleep would be needed in order to deal with what Liger had told me about. When I went to the therapist my wife insisted on she gave me a prescription for sleep enhancing drugs. The bottle says to take one at bedtime and no more than one in a twenty four hour period, so three should keep me asleep long enough to take care of what must be taken care of.

The drug kicked in slowly at first, the walls seemed to be melting…well that’s not a good sign. Am I hearing bells…hmm maybe but things don’t seem to suck as much as before I took the pills. Things don’t….asleep get I must…to….Apparently taking only one every twenty four hours means just that. My wife sometime after taking the pills had decided to pay me a visit, and what she found was me sprawled on the floor with an open pill bottle.

Worst case scenario or what? Three of those pills normally kills, in my case they only put me in a coma. Well at least in a coma I would stay in the dream long enough to figure this whole Dream Weaver thing out, getting out of the dream may prove to be more difficult though.


So back in my place my so-called safe place I looked around for either Shamus or Liger.

Shamus was more likely to be here I would wager, awaiting me and all.

There he is, I have been wondering when you would return. I have been…waiting for you.

Yeah I bet you have, what do you want now?

Angry with me my dear boy, whatever for?

Who is Liger… and I think you forgot to mention that you were once a Dream Weaver.

Did I now…I could have swore I mentioned it to you during our most friendly conversations. Conversation where we spoke on a very friendly level might I add. As to Liger…well she is someone very jealous of my power and abilities, besides she is half lion half tiger and 100% predator. You know what her kind is, they are all killers themselves…think about it, who do prey and those from here actually fear?

Before if asked I would have answered Liger, but now I believe they fear you Shamus but we both know that’s not your real name. Maybe you can do me the favor of telling me exactly what’s going on here.

Absolutely friend, I am or I was a Dream Weaver. It was my job to redirect the energies from the orb and…( interrupted )

Yeah I know the details, why not tell me what you know of Liger and if what she says is true.

Anything….anything you’d like friend.

I am not your friend last time I checked, so remember that…go on.

Gladly…this Liger you met is not all she appears herself, she to is a Dream Weaver and is the real thief of the orb. She would love nothing more than to rule your realm and if given the opportunity she will do just that. She has a scar behind her ear from a fight sustained from attempting to steal the orb. Ask her to show you the scar and when she refuses that is how you will know not to trust her. Journey with me if you will to a land but seconds from your safe place. Take my hand…friend.

Ok lets do this your way for now and journey to this land you spoke of. ( Moments passed seeming like mere seconds. We stand in the center of a very large city, filled with many cottages and shops. A blacksmith hammers on the red hot molting steel that will be a grand sword once finished, or so it should be according to everything I know about blacksmiths. Back then that was what they made, however this isn’t back then. No this is a dream and I am not sure of much, I can only assume for now. People seem just like they would if I were awake and back in the old knights of the round table days.

As I walk with Shamus the people here seem to fear us, but at a second glance they fear…

they fear Shamus. Why would they fear him?

Shamus why do these people seem to fear you, you strike me as a cold person and nothing like the man I first met.

Your words as well as your…thoughts are correct because they fear all those with power. The weak always fear those with power, they fear what they don’t understand. In history both yours and my own all weak powerless cretins cower when they feel true power.

Just because you or anyone else has power, that does not mean you take pleasure in the fears of others. Power should never be used over the weak to instill fear, nor should you relish in the fear that is had. I have seen to many wield power over others in my world, and those with power always pay for their sins in the end. Shamus if your intentions are evil, you will find yourself losing in the end.

My dear boy whatever makes you think my goals are to intentionally instill fear? If a beautiful women passes and is shown attention because she is beautiful, you do not condemn her. If a man is feared without reason the same applies, you do not condemn him simply because he is unknowingly feared.

So they fear you for their own reasons? I see fear in every single face here, why would they fear you if your intentions are pure…or your vision of being pure?

Dear boy why would you meddle in the concerns of a world that is not your own, why would you interfere with things you have no understanding of? ( The man known as Shamus slowly creeps forward to the dream visitor named Doug. Standing face to face Shamus stares but inches away as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. ) Your name is Doug and you fear that I will learn to much from your mind that wanders. Thoughts of a wife and son, thoughts of things lost but more importantly there are thoughts of a more pressing matter. You… through fault of your own or maybe just ignorance, now worry that you may not be able to return to your own world. Medicines are always useful, but not when they are in the hands of someone to incompetent to use them correctly.

( The man known as Doug steps back just slightly to collect himself, mainly to compose himself. Words spoken by someone who can read your thoughts can baffle even the person with the greatest amount of patience. If patience is left unchecked it could prove fatal especially to someone not in control, someone who through depression made one major mistake. For now Doug would pull his emotions back, but not far enough to ever become intimidated.)

It is true that I have lost…my wife and son, material possessions and so forth. Again it is also true I cannot control my stay here, but unknown to even you is my drive and determination. I intentionally put myself in this position for reasons that your ability cannot see, so don’t even try looking. My mind may at times seem open for anyone to search, but the feelings and thoughts I hold most dear will never be there for anyone of your kind. Remember Shamus if you look to hard you may not like what you find.

Fair enough Doug but I must warn you, I have talents and abilities that those from this world envy. If my kind were ever to venture beyond this realm into your own, there is no telling what would happen…no telling at all.


Abilities never define the person, they merely describe tiny details of that person. Whether they can dance, sing, fly or possess mind reading abilities, they are just part of the person. Fragments I guess you could say, but not the whole. The large part of the person is the human heart, without it we would be a dried up husk…a shell of a man.

What has the human heart done for any creature or being? I’ll tell you what it has done, it has made entire societies weak and pathetic. Deciding on important issues with their heart, relying on emotions created by the heart to dictate their very life and existence. There is a universal truth that not one single human knows, or will ever know…except you. Since I believe you will never leave this realm you will be the first to know.

Dreams are not just small stories humans experience in between their daily life, they are real events or possible outcomes to the decisions they make. A dream state that resembles an alternate reality. If someone decides to go left rather than right they live the choice that going left leads them to. The right path not taken eventually finds it’s way here where others may live that choice in their dream, even if the place or events are not familiar to them. I am quite positive that you have dreamt about someone you never met or things you have never done.

Yeah I have and so has every human past or present, but what has that to do with the fact that you think I am never leaving? I am leaving here whether you believe it or not, it’s just a matter of time.

Possibly but there is more. The period of time you spend in a dream is relative to how long you may live. If you spend hours dreaming that time is multiplied by ten and taken from your life expectancy. One hour equals ten for normal humans, for other humans one hour may equal five or less. Depending on the persons remarkable imagination it may lead them to inherit those less creative.

So let me get this straight, I am told that I have a remarkable imagination so your telling me that I would in fact take hours from someone who has less imagination?

Correct and those much more creative than yourself may take from you or someone on your level of imagination. From the beginning of time this is how it has always been, plus it was made that humans required sleep to exist. If beings never slept the realm of sleep and dreams would not exist. As far back as 2000 years or more, people required less sleep therefore they lived for hundreds of years longer than today. Humans continually evolved and so their life expectancy also shortened as they required more sleep.

So we needed more sleep and do you know why that is Shamus?

No I am afraid not and anyone believing they do know why is a lying or simply speculating. There are always mysteries within a universe that cannot be understood or explained, it’s just the way it is.

( Doug turns to look about the small town and stops hearing Shamus talking. He turns and notices he has in fact vanished. )

What the hell…``Shamus where did you disappear to?!’’( Liger quickly answers Doug’s question. )

It is likely he left after he felt my presence upon entering the town.

Liger…I think you and I need to talk, about this Shamus character.

Agreed, what has he said? Lies most likely, he is a deciever and will try to keep you here for quite some time if possible.

Liger what the hell is going on, one second he is creepy but ok and the next second he’s cold and hateful. Plus he said you are a predator and would try to kill me, lastly he said that it was you who took the orb.

Sit please because this story may explain much. ( Doug sits as the tiger/lion speaks )

First off let me correct the story told by Shamus, he is the actual person who took the orb.

The guilty always place blame elsewhere but I am sure you have noticed. It is true I am the predator type, but my race has given up their killing ways very long ago. Very long ago the Elders created the Dream Weavers to gather and redirect dream energy. The power of dreams is more powerful than any source known within the dream state. As powerful as dreams are it is the redirection of the energy that creates the most powerful dreams. If you redirect the energy that has already been redirected…it’s energy could be destructive. I believe Shamus wants to harness the power of the energies being redirected as we speak to your comatose body. He wishes to keep you asleep forever if possible.

Forever…it’s a coma but I’ll pull through, won’t I ?( Doug rubs his head and shows the stress of the situation. Never waking to see your child, to never see your wife again. Waking isn’t something Doug has control of and it is slowly sinking in. ) This isn’t happening…this isn’t happening…this….

Doug there are always ways around things especially in the dream state.( Yeah that was one big lie, but hope no matter in what form…is still hope. Suddenly Liger realizes something that she should have remembered, something that will complicate things a bit.)

Douglas there is one other thing…something I forgot to mention because it just dawned on me.

Oh great what else could go wrong, what could possibly go wrong now?

I truly am sorry to inform you of this…but the longer you stay in the dream realm the younger you will become. Your dream body will gradually betray you as you grow younger and younger, until finally you become unborn. When you and your kind sleep you may feel refreshed, that is your body growing younger…but only by a bit. Not every sleep turns back the hands of time, but you do feel it when it does. If you remain asleep your body remains in the never ending cycle of growing younger, this is the way of sleep magic.

But others have stayed asleep in a coma for much longer than myself, for decades.

Yes but their minds had escaped them long ago, when family pulls the plug on a coma patient it’s because the body is but a shell of it’s former self. An empty shell cannot grow younger because the spirit has vacated. Outside of this realm your body shows signs of life, left in a coma to long and your age dwindles until your spirit will leave as well. When time passes and the light within flickers they will pull the plug on you, of this I am most certain. I like you Douglas as humans go you are a fine example, so I would not enjoy watching your life force flickering. Your mission is crystal clear, you must obtain the orb and take back your life energy from Shamus…otherwise…

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