Hidden Meanings

Starvation of a Dream [Original Idea]

People always believed nightmares were the worse thing your mind could create. You had no control over it, your mind just conjured it up out of absolutely nowhere, piecing together a reality that could come to life in an alternate reality 

2189, and we still haven't found a way to stop them from occurring. That is... until a research came out that dream catchers were one-hundred-percent reliable, and if you had one, you would never have a nightmare ever again.

Dangling from my fingers was one such item. The dream catcher was a small one, with a stark white ring and red-tipped feathers. The strings were orange, fading into a light yellow in its' web.

The hum was undeniable. The nightmare (or nightmares, since it's possible this one could hold more) was strong, fighting against it's bonds. 

"Arus," I whispered. "This one has a nightmare." 

Unbelievably quiet in his movements, Arus Tridoe smoothly slid over to me, holding out his hands and looking at me expectantly with his unnatural golden eyes. 

"What are you looking at me for?" I hissed.

"I think you should be the one to seal it," he replied softly, his low, husky voice barely heard. "It would be your first time sealing a nightmare."

With a sigh, I carefully set the dream catcher in his open palm and stepped back. With a furrowed brow, Arus studied the object for several seconds.

"A nightmare, definitely. Just one." 

I nodded like I cared (not that I did) and shifted my stance, weaving my hands in a series of complex hand-signals. As I did so, Arus inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

I refused to let a sound come out of me. While extracting a nightmare, any break of concentration could lead to disaster. 

It was a complex process if you really look at the actions you have to do- first, draw the energy of the nightmare out of the dream catcher, and pull it through the web of strings. You then have to exchange the energy with your own, surging your body energy into the dream catcher, and after that, you have to will the nightmare to become visible.

The scar marked just above Arus' chin it up with a dim white glow, and my hands grew warm with heat. After completing my hand signs, all my body had to do was realize that a nightmare was in visible form, and seal it. 

Something bubbled from my friend's hands, and I stared at the nightmare in fascination. 

Unlike what all people think, nightmares ranged in colors. Purple concerned the dream of greed and wealth. Red was death and anger. Green represented jealousy and envy. The last color, black, was pure fear. Fear of anything. Phobias. Death of friends. 

This nightmare was a deep green, a tornado with bubbles of red as it swirled around in Arus' hands, trying to get out of his containment.

The palms of my own grew white-hot, and I sucked in a breath as white orbs surfaced from my skin, collecting in the air before it became a large bubble. 

Slowly, the nightmare started to veer in that direction, one tentacle snaking out from the funnel-shaped nightmare and touching the ball of white light. Almost instantly, the entire thing was entrapped inside, a hissing whirl of green and red as it frothed around.

"I'd say your first sealing wasn't too bad, Jean," Arus commented, staring at the bubble. I didn't respond, keeping my gaze locked on where the nightmare was. "Come on, finish it."

The words made my mouth go dry. "... why are nightmares always seen as the bad things?"

"Nightmares are the shattered dreams that drift around, hoping to shine once again. It never comes, and soon the nightmare starts pulling bits and pieces of the other broken dreams into a whirlwind of darkness. There is no mercy for them." 

Squinting at the contained nightmare, I said softly, "But there must be a world where nightmares re considered good."

Arus gave me a look of disbelief. "Jean, what's gotten into you? That would be a world where... despair is basically a religion."

I could see the sarcasm lurking in his words. He only pulled the sarcasm-and-sass card when he really was worried. 

"Very funny," I stated, lifting the orb into the air by raising my hands. Drifting upwards by the gentle push, it floated into the ceiling and vanished. 

Setting the dream catcher back on the desk, Arus looked around the living room again. "There's another one upstairs. More of... a dream pocket," he noted. 

A dream pocket was almost the same, but it was when the dream catcher symbol was placed on a little pouch that you could wear on your neck. 

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Arus held up a hand, brushing his shaggy brown bangs back with the other. 

"Rize is calling," he murmured, sliding the upraised hand into his pocket to pull out a small cellular device as fear flashed across his face.

I stiffened. Rize Yagashi was the head of our diversion, and was she as scary as she could be flirty. 

"Yes, we've transported it," Arus mumbled. "Jean did his first seal."

Seal. Transported. 

Nightmares could only be set free when, in the 'jail cell' (or so we called it), they found the other pieces of the shattered dream they used to be. As of now, we only have two records of that happening. 

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I wondered what could have caused the jealousy I had saw in the recently sealed nightmare. Did the dream first start out as affection for someone? 

"Rize says to head back to the district," Arus announced, pocketing his device. Giving a slow nod, I brushed lint off my pants, and prepared my transporter. 

The dark green portal surrounded me, hijacking my senses for a moment, before I found myself standing on solid ground again, but in a different area rather then the dark house I was just in. 

The district was an underground society,a maze of steel walls. It was a miracle I hadn't gotten lost more then once yet.

As I walked down the hallways back to where my dorm was, assuming Rize didn't want to see me, I passed a tank.

Beyond the glass was a paint-splatter of nightmares. The chaos restrained by just glass shocked me. Colors ranging from bloody red to a light lavender floated across my vision, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.

Without me realizing it, my hand had drifted from my side to press against the surface of the cool glass. 

"I'll make sure you'll all get released," I whispered under my breath. "I promise. I promise, and I rather die then let my goal go unaccomplished." 

As if they heard me, the glass seemed to vibrate underneath my fingertips. I paused for a moment, glancing it, before shaking my head. "Nonsense..."

"Nonsense it is, Jean," someone commented behind me. "Nightmares aren't people, they're... not even supposed to be a part of this world."

Turning, I saw the blonde-haired commander that Arus had talked to. Rize.

Her eyes, fierce and a pale green that's almost yellow, caused chills to dance up my spine.

"Do you realize what you've done, Jean?" She hissed, taking a step forward.

That's when I happened to notice the gun in her hands. 

"What'd I do?" I yelped, backing up until my back was pressed against the wall of the hallway.

"You didn't seal a nightmare properly, you moron! Now the beast is running around on the streets, as wild as can be!" Rize retorted. "Get your butt to the surface and track it down, now?"

I was running before I registered it, and the quick rounds of Rize's gun fired one after another, telling me, reminding me, that if I didn't hurry up, this nightmare might wreck chaos.

So, this was an idea that started out as: What happens to the nightmares that are captured by the dream catchers? What do you think?