#360: House of 1000 Copses

By Carla Isabel Ribeiro (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

By Carla Isabel Ribeiro (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

(70% Female, 30% Norse Warrior, 1014 years old)
As a teen, I had a recurring nightmare that I was trapped in a house which had been overtaken by a massive, sinister forest. Ungodly large trees had grown up right through the floorboards, and the roots were a monstrously thick tangle over which it was nearly impossible for me to navigate. I had nowhere to hide, and though I could see doorways to other rooms, it was clear there was no way out. Branches and boughs draped with heavy webs of moss hung everywhere, and I knew there were things in the dark both above and below me that I could not see…things that would be coming for me at any moment. I can still remember the weight of that inevitability–it was paralyzing–and I’ll never forget the sickening sounds I heard as the giant slugs emerged. I could gradually discern their shadows; huge, slick, repulsive masses slithering out from the behind the trees and over the roots in a much swifter pace than Gastropods normally move. I was well aware that it was a futile game of cat and mouse—slug and child—and besides the impossible terrain, my body would not match the movements I was willing it to make. (In fact, this inability to move was a common element in many of my dreams.) I generally awoke just before the slugs caught up with me, but I always felt that the fear I was left with upon waking was worse than anything they could have done to me. It was the fear that stayed with me…the possibilities. The unknown.

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