!IMYfe1j54Y 12/21/10(Tue)21:05 No.13245520|
For the third time that night, Walker’s mind entered REM sleep. In other words, he dreamt once more.
A room; a very familiar one. Walker was dressing himself in his usual attire; he had just finished buckling the holster for his sidearm. Reaching for his hat, he noticed something out of place; a full length mirror.
Approaching the mirror, as expected, he saw himself. But behind him, in the mirror, was a family. A woman, a young boy, and an infant girl in her mother’s arms. And they were waving at him.
Turning around, the family was indeed standing there, although he was no longer in his room, but the parlor of a very familiar home. He turned back to the mirror. But instead of a family behind his mirror self, there stood a large, malevolent-looking black mass, fast approaching the Mirror-Walker, now standing in a bombed out shelter.
Walker spun around, drawing his pistol. But the same scene of the happy family in the parlor was still there. Confused, Walker returned his gaze to the mirror. The scene in the mirror was the same, but now, Mirror-Walker was wielding the pistol too. And grinning.
Walker pounded on the mirror. “QUICK! GET OUT OF THERE!”
Mirror-Walker, grinning and wielding a pistol, simply shook his head, and pointed to the family behind him.
Walker turned around. This time the family was stretching their hands out to him, calling to him, beckoning for him to walk over to them.
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