I wont go into any detail about the beginnings of the dreams, but it in the final act, I 'awoke' in some sort of asylum, prison, research type facility. This happened after I noticed some scars on my body beginning to turn black and rot. Next thing I knew I was waking up, in a room flanked by glass windows on all sides overlooking some sort of laboratory with faceless men and women in white lab coats voraciously toiling away on experiments unbeknownst to me. There were no doors that I could make out, nor any openings for that matter, no distinguishable way for air to escape or enter it seemed. Yet the air was fresh and easy to breath. One completely uninterrupted wall of glass from corner to corner, floor to ceiling, encapsulating me entirely. I did not catch a real glimpse of the floor, but I did notice that the walls seemed to flow into the floor in the same uninterrupted manner, as if they were in fact not made of glass but of some other worldly material foreign to anything I have ever witnessed. A seamless, undivided perpetuality I now resided in against my will, a will which oddly struck me as non existent.
I remember being locked in this room and being handed some pills in a small stainless steel dixie cup, pills which looked like lead fishing weights, handed to me by a man who I had not noticed at first. He sat hunched over leaning slightly to the left on a bench at one end of the room, clad in a robe like that of one you may find in a hospital. A man whose skin was hard and scaly, red, green and blue shades abound throughout the entirety of what I could see. His nose was recessing into his face, his lips pursed back as if they were shrinking. His eyes sunken into his listless face were dilated, and a crimson shade of red overtook the whites, but it was a different shade of red than blood, a shade unlike any other I had ever seen. Alien. Like a creature out of Pan's Labyrinth. A man becoming a demon. His cheek bones high and protruding, pronounced further by the concavity of his cheeks being absorbed into a foul mouth lined by yellowing fragments of what were once teeth. The hair on his head all but non existent. A few spurts of twisted thick black hairs remained scattered, being ultimately replaced by hardened triangular fins of sorts, ridges, arched back like the curvature of a sharks tooth running from ear to ear horizontally across what was once a normal human scalp. His hands were suffering the same fate, solid wrinkles overtook his fingers; you could not tell where the knuckles began and ended. His fingernails a ghastly shade of greenish black which looked to be solid and pointed like that of a bears sat atop his crooked and elongated digits, yet I knew he had not been grooming them in this fashion. The whites of the tips black, that of dried blood, as if he were a man trapped at the bottom of a rocky pit who had torn them off repeatedly in futile efforts to climb out to safety and had them grow back in an unnatural way. All this for some reason did not frighten me though. He was my new undecided roommate, and he looked as if he had little energy and was fading fast, barely able to move by the horrid hardening of his dermis. When he spoke he spoke slowly and deeply with a hollow almost echoing voice like that of what I can only describe as satan, pausing after each word for a second, as if to catch his breath due to failing lungs like those of a cancer victim.
I remember eyeballing one of the pills that looked like a gumball, heavy, only made of lead with several dots along its exterior in a non random fashion, as if it were no drug but a containment for something foreign.. something part of a strange experiment.. I studied them a while, wondering what would happen if I took these pills. I was not forced to by any means, at least not yet, and it seemed as if I were unnoticed by the men and women working outside of the bastille I found myself in. He told me they would help with the "narcs", I assume he meant narcotics, but I really do not know what that had to do with anything regarding my being there. I did not ask him if he had taken them, nor how he became the way he currently was, I just continued studying the 'pills'. My mind still in a foggy complacent haze, unaware, perhaps inhibited by malicious means of my new hosts, or tormentors, of any primal desires to find out why I was there, or how to escape. Though it had briefly crossed my mind, escape seemed impossible, inconceivable, and unattainable.
Then I woke up.
