Dreams often come and go for just about everyone. This dream, though...it was different. It was more vivid...it almost felt...real, in a way.

[i]The scene was set in a large room, a round table sitting in the center, a lone man at the head with a small smile. He wore a robe with a small blood red circle emblazoned on the right breast, a cross marking through that circle. The only one at the table other than the man was a young boy who couldn't be older than fifteen, messy brown hair framing a boyish face. From your perspective, though, it couldn't really be clear what they were looking at.

The one thing that could be seen was the corpse laying lifeless in the chair, blood seeping from the hole in her temple. It was a young girl, not much older than the boy. Her black hair stretched down to her elbows, blood dirtying it now. Much more couldn't be discerned before attention was drawn back to the pair facing each other at the table.

“Cut the crap!” the boy roared in rage. “You think this is a game!? You [b]killed[/b] her!”

The man let out a sigh. “I did not. She simply chose wrong,” he responded. “And, need I remind you? That's precisely what this is. A game.” He gestured to something on the table. “Now, please. Continue. You wouldn't want to forfeit at the last turn now, would you?”

The boy's form grew rigid, but he reached forward, clutching a revolver that had been sitting on the table. Slowly, he lifted it to his head and pulled the trigger.[/i]

You awaken in a cold sweat. There had been similar dreams in the past, but this was the first one that was...so real. It was almost as if you were actually there.