Nature of the Restless

I feel it. Stirring from its dark depths of nowhere seeking revenge from our ignorantly blissful dream of rest. A beast as slippery as Night herself, nocturnal in nature, creeping, waiting for its prey to forgo its guard until she pounces yet again. “Yesss, what a tasty morsel we have here,” the incontinent beast uttered, “ripened dreams now forgone.”

Why did you do it, why did you fail again…”No!” He screamed as he awoke with a start. “Terrible dream. Wh—why can’t I move?” “Hussh child, you’re fine, let your mind be at ease; it’s mine to devour,” a resonating voice seemed got say. “Wha—what do you mean, who are you? Where are you? I just want to be at ease.”

The vaporous nightmare appeared, again and again, enticing Anxiety to join the fun; sitting upon the victims’ head. Obsessively whispering “tired, tired,” both weightless and somber. At last the hissing beast showed itself, with teeth exposed and mouth salivating, only for another head to materialize.

“H—How many of you are there,” the still paralyzed boy whispered, “and what did you mean devour?” “It meansss we are going to feast on your dreamsss—your thoughtss and memoriess,” the third head laughed.

The young plaything thought he was dreaming a lucid—only to learn it was more than a living nightmare. The smallest of the heads declared, “I am Urd and I will ssplurge in ‘What Once Was’, and haunt you with mistakes galore”. Like clockwork he screamed, serpents slithering over his still body, his history flowing faster until it didn’t.

“Finally! Let the time run freely sister, and let I, Verdandi announce all that is ‘Coming into Being’; fueling my insatiable hunger.” Intensely, his worries and emotions flared, his mind stumped with frustration. "Hereafter, Sskuld can bask in honor of the most divine of morsels yet" hissed the largest and most pompous head boasted, 'What Shall Be'".

The pain and anxiety felt not evil, rather euphoric. Upon the sedating effects of his most powerful ambitions: personal triumph. Concluding with a delicate wrapping of their entrancing tails around the throat of the nocturnal soldier’s…snuffing out his will even further.

Until, he, who is ever so tired from sleeplessness opened his eyes one final time; viewing the mistress of Night and in the fully her lustrious plump body, gifted only with a frail and dry husk lying beneath the sheets. Awake and very much asleep.