Being plagued by disturbing dreams is either the mark of a disturbed mind or perhaps the mark of a writer, which is essentially the same thing. I was in my parents' old bedroom in a house we no longer own being chased by two men who wanted my attention for a very unwholesome reason. As I braced myself against the door, I saw that my two swords, replica Masamunes from FFVII were against the wall as they are in my current bedroom. So I grabbed the longer one (Mercy), flung the door open, and you can guess what happened next. They both ran onto it one after the other (guess mine was longer after all...) It's about a five foot blade, and they were taking up about three feet of it, and I could feel it. Not feel it go into them, but feel the pain in my own flesh. Then (because dreams are strange like that), there was just one guy bleeding in my upstairs hallway, crying and in pain. He rolled onto his back and just begged me to make it end, so I stabbed him through the spine and I suppose into the heart, and I felt that, too.
Then I went downstairs, and there were a whole bunch of people, friends, acquaintances, people I didn't recognize, but I knew I knew in that dreamlike way. I told them all what I had done and they wanted to see the blood on the sword. It was more than halfway down, painted on the steel, and I wanted to know how to get it off. Someone said that I could get "white wash," and that would make it clean. Then the dream shifted into something else, but I remembered this part when I woke, and the beat of my heart was all crooked, and blood stained the back of my tongue.
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