Fleeting Hearts

I have very vivid dreams. Some of them have a location that is the same, some have a story that is the same, some even continue over several nights like reading an novel.

Either way, I have decided to write them down. Here is one I wrote down in 2011. I don’t remember why, but I wrote it as if it was a statement of facts.

Content Warning: Horror type themes.

When humans die, it is not because they are old, like the myth suggests. Throughout their lives, human hearts grow wings. Once a human reached the right age, and their heart is fat on emotions, it will grow small teeth and claws and dig it's way out of the live human flying away and leaving them a cold empty shell. Ashes to dust, flowers to storm, without roots nor leaves.
(2011)

Photo Taken by Luna Fyrewillow. Model: Luna Fyrewillow.

The Countess

I have very vivid dreams. Some of them have a location that is the same, some have a story that is the same, some even continue over several nights like reading an novel.

Either way, I have decided to write them down. Here is one I wrote down in 2008. I don’t remember why, but I wrote it in third person. Note: This was written before I was educated on and using the pronouns I use today

Content Warning: Horror type themes.

There was once a Girl who had a dream of a mansion that could fit in a thin alleyway, the walls long, the inside an illusion to the truth. The walls were maroon and the furniture was cream cushions with red wood and golden décor. The house felt like fire and evil from the moment She entered.

Don't wake the sleeping countess, she will eat your organs for breakfast and drink your blood as a midnight treat. Your soul her pet forevermore. The countess radiated a sense of false innocence with her pale face and white clothes that easily turned to grey when her foulness overtook a room. Her vile nature was thick enough for the human eye to experience.

Yet, a mission is set on the Girl to search the house for…something. The Girl does not know what she needs to find...She will be able to Feel it though. The room with a mirror with decadent gold and a shiny table littered with jewels and makeup used to mask the foul evil of the countess. A false sense of beauty. The drawers need to be searched.

A music box, with a tiny jeweled bird, the world feels like liquid sunlight when it plays within this dark place. The birds song is the most beautiful thing ever created. A song of perfection, a feeling of warm, calm, and contentment. A song one can feel the minute the notes vibrate off your skin...The bird's song awakened the countess, and now it is time to run, run through all the rooms.

The more the Girl tries to reach the door, the farther away it seems. There surely were not this many rooms when She first entered. The countess screeches, a sound more horrible then death itself, and black drips from her skin, a misty yet liquid substance that starts to cover the entire house, racing along the walls. The Girl clutches the box close and tells Herself to keep running as the black substance on the walls reaches to consume Her, trapping Her inside the house. She will stop it from getting the box, as long as the box escapes, as long as She makes it to the door. She grabs a lit candle to ward off the darkness…She turns around, finding Herself faced with the very soul of the countess. Broken Pasts bring New Songs.

The Girl awakens from her sleep.
(2008)

Photo Taken by Luna Fyrewillow

Angels of Death

I have very vivid dreams. Some of them have a location that is the same, some have a story that is the same, some even continue over several nights like reading an novel.

Either way, I have decided to write them down. Here is one I wrote down in 2010.

Content Warning: Mass Suicide, Death, Mourning, Celebration of Death.


I was at a mall that was near my house with a friend. Her and myself decided that the only proper thing to do would be to plan a mass suicide all across the mall. We made posters and talked to everyone that we knew and eventually all of the employees in the mall joined our “game”. We were all tired. The world was a firepit of decay anyways. It played out like a party. There was great laughter and joy in watching every one of us die. There was even a random nightclub that you could go to, where the bank used to be. This was for the option of raving and partying to death.

We all had to decide on our own way to kill ourselves, the more creative you were the better. We locked all the doors and barred all the windows and let the night play out like a game. There was a lot of blood that started pooling everywhere on the floor. A good number of people got excited by this, so they turned the music up high and danced like mad, splashing red all over us. It was a warm feeling of excitement and joy.

Eventually, it was my turn to die. For some reason I decided that a cliché way to die, which was to throw myself off of the tallest building after downing an entire bottle of liquor from the slowly disappearing supply at the local liquor store, was the best way to go. I chose falling however, not because I knew it would kill me, but because of the high it would give me. That feeling of falling before hitting the ground. To feel the world rush past you, to feel it pulling at you as you fell. It was a sense of freedom, borderline feeling of control and power. I wanted the last thing I felt to be a thrill.

The next morning we were all dead, but the dream went on. We were all some type of spirits that wandered around the blood splattered building, stepping over numerous bodies. We could see ourselves dead. There was a sense of calm, a sense that everything was peaceful. One of the only times I ever felt at peace in a dream. That everything was alright and exactly the way should be. You could see the look of contentment on the other spirits faces. Words were not needed anymore, voices were not required. We simply looked at each other with gentle smiles and a sense of blissful understanding. Without words we formed a connection between us.

The silence was comforting.

We then watched as people discovered our bodies and questioned their despair and shock. We had trouble understanding why they did not feel the peace or comfort that we did. What we did was right and we had a hell of a time doing it. We thought they should be happy. Eventually, it became silly and we made a game out of it, celebrating every time they freaked out over finding another body, drawing more people to the scene. We would somehow high-five and hug and our beings were filled with silent sunshine laughter. We wanted them to understand the joy, not the sadness, was what we wanted to express.

When the day was over and done and the people had finally left our spirits in peace, we gathered in a group. A large circle of understanding, and finding our voices, each shared our experience dying and how if felt afterwards. We became a ball of light, of energy, all combined within each other.

Then I woke.
(2010) 

Photo Taken by a friend. Fire performance by Luna Fyrewillow.

Wrath of the Gods

I have very vivid dreams. Some of them have a location that is the same, some have a story that is the same, some even continue over several nights like reading an novel.

Either way, I have decided to write them down. Here is one I wrote down in 2010.

Content Warning: Death, Murder, Detailed Animal Murder and Corpses, Torture.

At the beginning, there was a group of us and a man. A sick, twisted, evil man. His only goal was to murder us as painfully as possible. He caught us one by one, like wild animals. He caged and tamed us. We became puppets in a very sadistic game. I fought back for a while, but it seemed to be a losing battle. Eventually, I was the only one left with any sense of free will, the only one that was not broken. With this advantage, I plotted over years and finally snuck out, then I ran.

I ran through all the rivers and towns, spending time gathering supplies, but never staying long, for a sense that he was catching up. That he was running right at my heels. It did not help that any sense of a road or walkway was water, whether a small creek or a huge rushing river.

Eventually, I found a place that I thought was safe. It felt peaceful, magical, and calm. It was an abandoned temple made into the side of the natural rock. You got to it through a shallow crystal pool of water leading off from the large river. The crystal pool was surrounded by healthy forest trees and vines with sunshine the peeked through the leaves, shimmering and dancing on the surface of the water. There were two pedestals within the circle. One was empty and the other had a stone wildcat cub on its side. I felt safe, protected by the energy the temple emitted. I climbed onto the empty pedestal, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and relaxed in the sunshine.

When it felt like the next day, I heard voices and it startled me from my meditation to the forest greenery and calm water sounds. I jumped from my spot and ran to see who it was, if they were safe, and if they were ones who would believe my story and help me. I accidentally knocked the stone cub off the second pedestal in my haste to get a better view of the river. I immediately knew something bad was going to happen as I watched it roll through the crystal pool and wash out and down into the river. It was headed back in the direction that I had run from, in the direction of the man.

There was a noise from behind me, it was a real wildcat mother crying and yowling as if I had done something particularly painful. As her eyes met mine from her spot on top of the rocks, the roof of the temple, I realized I had something else to run from. Her cubs looked hungry, and she was going to train them to hunt. So, I ran.

I ran to the end of the land, the end of the earth, as far as one could. The river ended and I was on solid ground, a mix of cobblestone and gravel road. Upon reaching the town, I knew I was near the end. One side was a straight cliff that had the town built into it. Colorful yellow and red wooden structures built tall. On the other side of the gravel covered cobblestone there was an angry untamable ocean that dared you to come near. Taunting you, then crashing huge waves as tall as the buildings, just missing the walkway. Facing me was The End. A giant mountainside with a thin, wide waterfall going down its side, with a smaller one trickling beside it. It would shine in silver daggers on the way down and sing the beautiful crashing notes of the mountain song. The lament of the end. This waterfall was well known as "Wrath of the Gods."

All the townsfolk had gone inside and locked the doors. The sun was shining, and the town was abandoned. I was confused, but then I knew why. I had heard the wildcat's cry from not far behind me, so I ran in the only direction I could. I ran straight for the Wrath of the Gods. Along the side, where the small, weak waterfall ran, was a crumbling rocky walkway leading up, so I climbed.

I climbed the Wrath of the Gods, and I hid in the highest little cave, where the silver song waterfall started. It was cramped and there was a definite danger of falling to my death, but I felt a little safer. There was no way they would find me here, no way they would risk the waterfall. I had never been more wrong. I heard a small purring noise and looked to see one of the cubs peek overtop of the opening where I had climbed through. It was cute and innocent looking, then it bared its fangs and claws and jumped at me. I felt pain in my arm and grabbed at it, flinging it off my arm. With a yowling noise, it fell down the mountain. The problem was, there were many of them and they were all master climbers. Each one was harder to fling off than the next and they all seemed to survive the fall and climb again.

Eventually, I threw one hard against the rocky edge that I had climbed over and heard a sickening crunch. I watched a vivid image of its back breaking in two backwards. It was the most disgusting thing, I felt like a monster at how satisfying and relieving it had been. I was turning into what I feared most. However, it gave light that I could win this, finally be safe. I had the power to save myself, even if there was nowhere left to run.

I grabbed the cubs one by one as they attacked me and flung them hard against the rocky surface. After a while, there was silence and I thought I had won. Breathing hard, I felt disgusted but free, like I had just won a war all by myself. My heart stopped as I heard a louder and deeper purring noise. I looked over the spot I had climbed through, now littered with three little corpses, and fear flooded my soul. The mother wildcat was slowly climbing. She had not seemed to notice her cubs at my feet, as her eyes were locked right with mine. The look of a calm killer and experienced hunter looked back from her yellow-green stare. The eyes I had been terrified of for years, the eyes of the man I had first ran from.

Trying to squish myself as far back into the cave as possible, my blood splattered sneaker pushed one of the cubs and it's lifeless corpse flopped and rolled down to its mother's feet. She looked down and a look of dread and panic spread through her eyes. She nudged and prodded each one in vain, then let out the most sorrowful, angsty, and enraged yowl I have ever heard.

Her eyes turned back to mine, a look of pure revenge now set on her face. Her eyes flashed with anger, and she pounced. I felt a copious amount of pain in my arms and legs. While I struggled and fought, all I could see was the blur of yellow fur, red, and the dark grey rock behind it. I looked down and saw deep scratches from which I was staining her fur. They were all up and down my arms. In the seconds that I watched; the scratches disappeared under dark red blood. Then everything went black.

Everything was black. I couldn’t hear or see anything, there was only silence. Silence for what seemed like an eternity. Then I woke.
(2010)

Photo Taken by Luna Fyrewillow