By the moon's light
All night, all night
Not feeln' so bright.
That was the last thing I remember Donald Sutherland saying to me before I woke up.
Last night's dream had a film noir setting, like I was in Gotham City. The city was dark, full of crime and mistrust and on the brink of city-wide gang wars. As the protagonist, I was a disillusioned 13-year-old boy with the power or gift to heal. I didn't know how my power came to be; I was found by a wealthy, old hermit [Michael Caine] who manifested my same abilities to heal others. He took me under his wing and trained me to use my new found ability.
There is one other like me that I train with. She is a girl about my same age whose name I never quite caught. Together, we practiced our "art" when we received a call on our cells from Caine indicating that there was a bloody accident that we could practice on. We always rush to the scene of the accident by whatever means possible. I start the healing process my holding the victim's shoulders down as to keep their spirits from leaving their bodies. Meanwhile, the girl simply gives gentle kisses to the wounds which close up on contact with her saliva. Caine told us that we would probably exhibit slight differences in our abilities.
Only, on one outing, I discovered quite by accident that I not only had the ability to maintain life, but to take it away. The procedure is the same as before, but this time, my emotions were overcharged with pubescent envy because I desired my counterpart's gift in addition to my own. I think what happened next was that I "pushed" his spirit so hard that it flew out his back and into the cement--lost forever.
Little did I know that this was exactly what my superiors were all waiting for. It turned out that Caine was one of many who were first experimented on by the government two generations ago in an attempt to resolve global disputes by creating "International Peace-Keeping Agents". When the IPKA prototype was sent to a middle-eastern nation to heal a dying diplomat shot in a political conflict, the prototype instead assassinated everyone in the foreign embassy and then disappeared never to be heard of again. The U.S. was blamed and the "Peace-Keeping" project was shut down. By chance, a handful of test subjects, including Caine, managed to escape before they were all to be terminated. (At this point in the story, I suspect that I am the genetic offspring of some escaped test subject. That is the only thing that could explain my powers. But I'm not sure. I know I do go to school, but the only parental figure I have in my life is Caine.)
Ever since the escape, Caine has lived a discreet life as a scientist in hiding. He never speaks about his past and spends all his time in the basement of his riverside mansion conducting research on our collective abilities. When I reported the change in my behavior, Caine flew into an ecstatic frenzy and immediately began setting up testing procedures to record the extend of my new ability.
As I lay under bright lights heavily medicated, my mind reverted back to rumors I had heard about the rouge IPKA prototype. Reports alleged that the embassy victims appeared to drop dead at the sight of the prototype; he would simply hold up his hand and they would be thrust backwards and fall to the ground, even at 30 meters away. Now, I could heal and kill.
Dream sequence jumps ahead 4 years. (Sorry this explanation is taking too long, so I'll try to leave out some details.)
The girl had, of course, become beautiful and the object of my attention. She was now 17 and I was 18. (I think if might have something to do with this commercial that I watched yesterday.
During our heroic escapades, we experienced many close calls. I saved her some times, she saved me too. There was lot of tension in our relationship because I felt compelled to maintain a "professional" relationship and yet I was really attracted to every part of her.
One fateful day, chaos exploded in our city. It was windy and stormy and things are blowing all over the place. Caine's mansion was in danger of being destroyed by "stray" explosions as it was located right next to a major river port, one of the most powerful gang's haven. As we raced to his mansion to assist in the evacuation of his research materials we made two or three detours to save innocents who had fallen under stray gun fire and explosions. During one stop, "the girl" and I had been separated in a back alley and were pinned down by oppressing enemy fire. While I waited helplessly on opposite sides of the alley, "the girl" was grabbed from behind by two men in suits. These goons did not dress like members of any gang I had previously seen. They looked more like G-men. The weird thing was that one of the thugs was a dead ringer for our mentor, Caine. Suddenly, the girl transformed into a giant, venomous snake, right before my eyes. Faster than I could question my own sanity, her two apprehenders were completely enveloped by her snakey-skin and bleeding from multiple open wounds. Then, like nothing had happened, she was in human form again, running to me. I didn't stop to ask her about what I thought I saw, we just continued in silence to Caine's mansion. My mind felt like it was about to burst with questions swarming ever-faster, like a hive of furious wasps.
As we approached the fence bordering the mansion, "the girl" ran around the back while I took the path that led to the front door. On my way in, I saw Caine out front dressed in Victorian style clothing. What was this? Some sort of disguise? I called to him and asked if he was alright. He seemed startled by my appearance but quickly steadied himself and replied that he was fine. He had some final preparations in effecting our "escape" and asked me if I would run in and grab the money from the secret place. He continued to stare at me. I looked back at him. We had stopped walking. "You're not Caine." "Good boy. I can't pull one past you." Then, in an instant, he pulled the clock over his shoulder and seemed to move at ultra-super-human speed around the corner of the mansion and out of sight.
(I'm not leaving out many details, am I? I'll do better)
Caine is not where to be found inside. The mansion is being surrounded by G-men. "The girl" and I have our final moment out on a secluded corner the mansion's estate. This part gets really weird. Instead of running away with her, I had the urge to hold her down like I did so many times before to dying victims. I wondered if I could evoke the snake in her between my equilibrium of pushing and pulling her spirit from her body. What actually happened was that she seemed to be immune to my powers and relaxed under my pressure. As she did, her form seemed to fall into that of a yellow, alien cobra. I saw her change; my urge had been satisfied. But apparently she wasn't because just then, her fangs launched out at my leg leaving two holes, cold and numb. She slithered out from under my grasp and launched herself at lightning speed across the estate and out of sight. My eyes dimmed and closed.
At this point, my perspective changed from being the guy to the girl. (I suppose the guy died.) Ten years later, I'm a 27 refugee living abroad.
Caine disappeared and I went into hiding. In my time alone, I discovered that my powers continued to augment and multiply. My newest discoveries included super-strength, super-speed, and spider-like wall climbing abilities.
(Trust me when I tell you, this all made perfect sense in my mind and the story line had perfect continuity.)
With no warning, Caine appeared to me while I was walking home along a deserted side street near a major ocean port. We had a plot-revealing chat which answered many of my questions. As we talked, my clone appeared in front of me. Though we didn't know about each other before, we both instinctively knew that only one of us could live. Caine didn't know who would win and, to my freight, it didn't seem like it made much of a diffenece to him. I thought Caine must have set up the encounter as one of his tests to see which one of us was stronger. The problem in my mind was that neither the clone nor I knew who was born/created first or who had more legitimacy to be alive. Which of us deserved to be put out of commission? The unoriginal replica or the older, less-improved model? Would it matter to me if I knew?
No time for questions. We fought each other in a terrific street battle. Snakes flying everywhere, flipping off chain-linked fenced and buildings, healing our own wounds, etc. At the climax of the battle, Caine inserted himself into the fight by lending me a hand. From behind us both, he used telekinesis to hold the new girl in mid-air from leaping upon me while my back was turned. In the emotional rush, a brand-new power revealed itself: one thousand "venom bullets" sprayed out of my human fangs in the direction of both the clone and Caine. Sizzling holes now peppered their decaying flesh. The new girl sought refuge by slithering towards the bay, but the more she moved, the more her snake body seemed to fall apart. Caine just lied still. In his last breathes, he smiled at me and told me to find a certain professor [Donald Sutherland]. He would help me from here. . .
Sutherland held up in a Central American radio-astronomy observatory. (I had just met him as I felt myself being lifted out of my dream state.) He obviously knew me and was fully up-to-date on my "progress". He was all smiles and riddles. I wondered what powers he secretly held. Then, a thought that was not my own popped into my head; I wondered if HE might be the prototype from the foreign embassy so long ago. He looked at me like he knew what I was thinking and charmingly said,
By the moon's light
All night, all night
Not feeln' so bright.
All night, all night
Not feeln' so bright.
That was the last thing I remember Donald Sutherland saying to me before I woke up.
Last night's dream had a film noir setting, like I was in Gotham City. The city was dark, full of crime and mistrust and on the brink of city-wide gang wars. As the protagonist, I was a disillusioned 13-year-old boy with the power or gift to heal. I didn't know how my power came to be; I was found by a wealthy, old hermit [Michael Caine] who manifested my same abilities to heal others. He took me under his wing and trained me to use my new found ability.
There is one other like me that I train with. She is a girl about my same age whose name I never quite caught. Together, we practiced our "art" when we received a call on our cells from Caine indicating that there was a bloody accident that we could practice on. We always rush to the scene of the accident by whatever means possible. I start the healing process my holding the victim's shoulders down as to keep their spirits from leaving their bodies. Meanwhile, the girl simply gives gentle kisses to the wounds which close up on contact with her saliva. Caine told us that we would probably exhibit slight differences in our abilities.
Only, on one outing, I discovered quite by accident that I not only had the ability to maintain life, but to take it away. The procedure is the same as before, but this time, my emotions were overcharged with pubescent envy because I desired my counterpart's gift in addition to my own. I think what happened next was that I "pushed" his spirit so hard that it flew out his back and into the cement--lost forever.
Little did I know that this was exactly what my superiors were all waiting for. It turned out that Caine was one of many who were first experimented on by the government two generations ago in an attempt to resolve global disputes by creating "International Peace-Keeping Agents". When the IPKA prototype was sent to a middle-eastern nation to heal a dying diplomat shot in a political conflict, the prototype instead assassinated everyone in the foreign embassy and then disappeared never to be heard of again. The U.S. was blamed and the "Peace-Keeping" project was shut down. By chance, a handful of test subjects, including Caine, managed to escape before they were all to be terminated. (At this point in the story, I suspect that I am the genetic offspring of some escaped test subject. That is the only thing that could explain my powers. But I'm not sure. I know I do go to school, but the only parental figure I have in my life is Caine.)
Ever since the escape, Caine has lived a discreet life as a scientist in hiding. He never speaks about his past and spends all his time in the basement of his riverside mansion conducting research on our collective abilities. When I reported the change in my behavior, Caine flew into an ecstatic frenzy and immediately began setting up testing procedures to record the extend of my new ability.
As I lay under bright lights heavily medicated, my mind reverted back to rumors I had heard about the rouge IPKA prototype. Reports alleged that the embassy victims appeared to drop dead at the sight of the prototype; he would simply hold up his hand and they would be thrust backwards and fall to the ground, even at 30 meters away. Now, I could heal and kill.
Dream sequence jumps ahead 4 years. (Sorry this explanation is taking too long, so I'll try to leave out some details.)
The girl had, of course, become beautiful and the object of my attention. She was now 17 and I was 18. (I think if might have something to do with this commercial that I watched yesterday.
During our heroic escapades, we experienced many close calls. I saved her some times, she saved me too. There was lot of tension in our relationship because I felt compelled to maintain a "professional" relationship and yet I was really attracted to every part of her.
One fateful day, chaos exploded in our city. It was windy and stormy and things are blowing all over the place. Caine's mansion was in danger of being destroyed by "stray" explosions as it was located right next to a major river port, one of the most powerful gang's haven. As we raced to his mansion to assist in the evacuation of his research materials we made two or three detours to save innocents who had fallen under stray gun fire and explosions. During one stop, "the girl" and I had been separated in a back alley and were pinned down by oppressing enemy fire. While I waited helplessly on opposite sides of the alley, "the girl" was grabbed from behind by two men in suits. These goons did not dress like members of any gang I had previously seen. They looked more like G-men. The weird thing was that one of the thugs was a dead ringer for our mentor, Caine. Suddenly, the girl transformed into a giant, venomous snake, right before my eyes. Faster than I could question my own sanity, her two apprehenders were completely enveloped by her snakey-skin and bleeding from multiple open wounds. Then, like nothing had happened, she was in human form again, running to me. I didn't stop to ask her about what I thought I saw, we just continued in silence to Caine's mansion. My mind felt like it was about to burst with questions swarming ever-faster, like a hive of furious wasps.
As we approached the fence bordering the mansion, "the girl" ran around the back while I took the path that led to the front door. On my way in, I saw Caine out front dressed in Victorian style clothing. What was this? Some sort of disguise? I called to him and asked if he was alright. He seemed startled by my appearance but quickly steadied himself and replied that he was fine. He had some final preparations in effecting our "escape" and asked me if I would run in and grab the money from the secret place. He continued to stare at me. I looked back at him. We had stopped walking. "You're not Caine." "Good boy. I can't pull one past you." Then, in an instant, he pulled the clock over his shoulder and seemed to move at ultra-super-human speed around the corner of the mansion and out of sight.
(I'm not leaving out many details, am I? I'll do better)
Caine is not where to be found inside. The mansion is being surrounded by G-men. "The girl" and I have our final moment out on a secluded corner the mansion's estate. This part gets really weird. Instead of running away with her, I had the urge to hold her down like I did so many times before to dying victims. I wondered if I could evoke the snake in her between my equilibrium of pushing and pulling her spirit from her body. What actually happened was that she seemed to be immune to my powers and relaxed under my pressure. As she did, her form seemed to fall into that of a yellow, alien cobra. I saw her change; my urge had been satisfied. But apparently she wasn't because just then, her fangs launched out at my leg leaving two holes, cold and numb. She slithered out from under my grasp and launched herself at lightning speed across the estate and out of sight. My eyes dimmed and closed.
At this point, my perspective changed from being the guy to the girl. (I suppose the guy died.) Ten years later, I'm a 27 refugee living abroad.
Caine disappeared and I went into hiding. In my time alone, I discovered that my powers continued to augment and multiply. My newest discoveries included super-strength, super-speed, and spider-like wall climbing abilities.
(Trust me when I tell you, this all made perfect sense in my mind and the story line had perfect continuity.)
With no warning, Caine appeared to me while I was walking home along a deserted side street near a major ocean port. We had a plot-revealing chat which answered many of my questions. As we talked, my clone appeared in front of me. Though we didn't know about each other before, we both instinctively knew that only one of us could live. Caine didn't know who would win and, to my freight, it didn't seem like it made much of a diffenece to him. I thought Caine must have set up the encounter as one of his tests to see which one of us was stronger. The problem in my mind was that neither the clone nor I knew who was born/created first or who had more legitimacy to be alive. Which of us deserved to be put out of commission? The unoriginal replica or the older, less-improved model? Would it matter to me if I knew?
No time for questions. We fought each other in a terrific street battle. Snakes flying everywhere, flipping off chain-linked fenced and buildings, healing our own wounds, etc. At the climax of the battle, Caine inserted himself into the fight by lending me a hand. From behind us both, he used telekinesis to hold the new girl in mid-air from leaping upon me while my back was turned. In the emotional rush, a brand-new power revealed itself: one thousand "venom bullets" sprayed out of my human fangs in the direction of both the clone and Caine. Sizzling holes now peppered their decaying flesh. The new girl sought refuge by slithering towards the bay, but the more she moved, the more her snake body seemed to fall apart. Caine just lied still. In his last breathes, he smiled at me and told me to find a certain professor [Donald Sutherland]. He would help me from here. . .
Sutherland held up in a Central American radio-astronomy observatory. (I had just met him as I felt myself being lifted out of my dream state.) He obviously knew me and was fully up-to-date on my "progress". He was all smiles and riddles. I wondered what powers he secretly held. Then, a thought that was not my own popped into my head; I wondered if HE might be the prototype from the foreign embassy so long ago. He looked at me like he knew what I was thinking and charmingly said,
By the moon's light
All night, all night
Not feeln' so bright.
OH MY GOSH! What a cool/crazy dream! Bourne Ultimatum meets Dirty Rotten Scoundrels meets MInority Report meets Bryan. You could be a movie writer, boy!
ReplyDeleteActually, the thought came to me while reading this, that you might be the perfect EMT guy! Check out the training!
I have to think about the dream some more. Call me if you want me to analyze it further.
That was the most detailed, bizarre, exciting dream I have ever experienced. As one who never remembers dreams, I am in awe of your gift. What a good way to write--it allows you to discover the characters and plot just like the reader. Excellent writing!
ReplyDeleteOh, and keep your fangs far from me...
I think you should totally consider working at a firestation where you can protect and save and treat people (for a few years-stay on if you love it) and while you're doing that you can write plays, novels or whatever and try to get your scripts onscreen! That way, you'd have benefits, be ultra fit and have lots of free time where you have no responsibilities but to "pursue your dreams!"
ReplyDeleteAll I can say is What an imagination. Maybe you should be a writer Bryan..............
ReplyDeleteNo, it sounds like Batman begins meets Xmen meets Bryan. Glad you had a fun sleep!
ReplyDeleteAnd I thought I had some wild dreams, but they are nothing in comparison to yours. Just dancing on stage with a trained bear, and being chased by terrorists in an empty warehouse. You have the most active imagination that I have ever seen. Possible exception Stephen King.
ReplyDeleteWhy go onstage? You have such a large, appreciative audience right here at home!
ReplyDeleteAnd what an insightful clip! Is that what you're doing Bryan? Being very patient and waiting for potential?
ReplyDelete