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My Dream

From the deepest sleep, at a moment when my mind and spirit had wholly unbound themselves from this mortal coil, I found myself among the clouds. High enough to look down upon the entirety of my family’s capital with the same view as God himself.
It all lay beneath me.
The bustling plazas built in the shadows of the majestic peaks of our ancient cathedrals in the heart of the old city. A center connected by webs of smooth lantern-lit roads and thoroughfares to the steadily encroaching smog shrouded industrial districts built along the banks of the winding river that bisected the city.
I took this omnipotence for granted for at that moment it was what had always been. Yet, I was keenly aware that this was the first time I had noticed the startling dimensions of the faceless steel buildings. The towering smokestacks cast shadows longer than any castles spire and with a far greater reach than the crowning cross of any cathedral.
Somewhere a steam whistle screamed loud enough for the entire city to hear, and for the span of a breath, all motion stopped. The rhythmic clatter of the machines ceased, and the mighty furnaces stopped burning. The whistle screamed again and the all at once the factories and warehouses began to bulge outwards before bursting open spewing a writhing mass of people out into the streets.
They quickly covered the entirety of the city like a swarm of ravenous insects. Shattered glass covered the streets and crunched under the feet of the rioters with the same sound as snow.
The human flood spread quickly in all directions extinguishing the soft glow of the street lights, leaving writhing darkness beneath my feet.
The rabble tore christ down from the summit of every church before setting the holy places ablaze. The ravenous fires devouring these houses of God cast a ghastly light on the rabid gore smeared packs.  That looted and smashed seemingly unaware of the walls of fire growing around them.
When the crowds started to converge on our palace, my anger and disgust were flooded away by terror. I witnessed our once magnificent palace guard tear the uniforms from their own bodies and shred them to rags.  This while the iron gates bearing our crest was smashed open.
A torchlit procession of featureless phantoms in flowing crimson robes carrying a rallying banner of malice shepherded the mob through the court and through the palace hall.
 I listened helplessly to the screams of my mother, my sisters.  My brother baby William was flung from a window. The horde quickly descended on the infant, tearing it apart like hungry piranhas.
I couldn’t watch anymore. I shut my eyes and begged for salvation. The fries were crackling louder, and I could feel the prickling heat of the flames forked tongue lashing at my body.
“Our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name..”
My eyes opened, and a sea of flames had swallowed everything. My heart sank, and I along with it. I felt myself plummeting from the sky into emerging hell, and I ceased to pray, knowing it would do me no good.
And that’s when I finally woke up, but this was only temporary relief. Like Cassandra, I have seen the senseless and horrible end of all the things I love. Despite any efforts I know we are already on our way to hell, or rather hell is already on its way to us. I can ask God why he wants to destroy my family’s kingdom but will find no answer. I can do nothing with this vision besides let the anticipation intensify the coming pain of the inevitable terminus.

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