The Black Triangle & The Wooden Manse, A Dream

The Black Triangle & TheWooden Manse

A Dream by Ignis Apas

In my dream, a man stands within the antechamber of an abandoned Victorian house which is entirely constructed of fine imported woods.  Intricate woodwork is carved upon the walls.  I can see that the entire first floor has been flooded in a liquid corruption.  It has risen above the man's ankles.  I know that the flood of corruption has come oozing forth from a mass of unseen corpses.

The man stoops down, scooping up the putrefaction into his cupped hands.  With vacant eyes, unseeing, he bathes himself in impurity.  His consciousness is elsewhere.  He does not see the reality of what I see.  He knows not what he does.

The man who is not old and not young again pours decay upon his head, smoothing it into his face.  I perceive all of this not from within the house and not from without the house.  I stand in the doorway.

In my dream I am now outside on the street at dusk.  The wooden house is to my left, to the east, upon a hill.  I look up into the dimming skies.  A black triangular craft drops down with terrifying speed from the heavens above.  I am filled with an unspeakable horror.  Though the black triangle is several thousands of feet above, I can see that it has three spheres of light on its underside.  I know that the craft is aware of me, and that it, now directly above me, is still descending, though at a slower rate.

I suddenly am struck with the realization that my father is in the wooden manse.  I begin to run.  The air is strange, filled with moisture.  I know that the black triangular craft is trying to prevent my escaping it.  I run harder.  I am inside the wooden manse.  I must warn my father of something.  I see him briefly.  Communication is difficult.

Out of the old and grimed window pane I see the black triangular craft, slowly moving over the hillside, lying in wait.