Gateway

A Haunting Nightmare I weep, even as the ground below me splits wider, the roots of the oak tree pulling me underground, jerking me into the moist depths, smothering me with the cool pressure of earth. I smell fabric softener and feel the touch of soft cotton even as voices cry out to me, voices I know as well as my own. Who are they? The fiery one, the one of the earth with the heart of green. The cool, white one with the logical mind... they fade away as a single, crisp voice breaks throu...