Oneiric

by Matt Morgan

Oneiric dreams, he has little choice, he has been dead for so long now that waking is not an option.At least, he had not thought it an option until Sion fell. There is no floor to madness. Sion discovered that. In another life that was this he had hit the floor and the floor had cracked, and he had been absorbed into the cracks and dripped into oblivion, each drip a piece of him, coming back together, hurting as it did, hurting, oh, what an inadequate word. Stitches to the soul until the soul was whole enough to fall again, to another floor, and another, a skyscraper as tall as forever. He had figured, when the Widdershins took his skin and his mind, that the floor was the final floor, and then they had pulled him down, into a basement that looked like hell and smelt like Satan’s own arsehole, but it hadn’t been hell, it had been, so they said, redemption.You have fed us over well, Mad thing, they said, the Widdershins. You will give us answers now. We will chew slowly on your whore while we wait, we will not wait beyond that. We heard it. We are I. The seven are one. I have lived through the times when I had more faces than the borrowed circle. There are things that I remember, from yesterdays which never saw the sun, and tomorrows which might or mightn't ever be. I saw you hit the floor, I saw you fall. I saw you hit the floor, I saw you fall. I saw this with ten trillion eyes, I saw this with the eyes of my wives and my sons, and I beseeched my daughters to come away from the mirrors and the dead things in the cold green light, and watch you hit the final floor.Where was that final floor, man thing? Where was that final floor? I could not see. There are answers there, and I want them, I will take them. I am not asking. Something spoke, ‘I am not as weak and young and hot, as the Widdershins. You beat them with the bones of your soul, you beat them with mankind’s madness. I know an older madness, I know the madness of the Gods. That floor, which you fell to, I am about to take it away, and let you sink the deeper.’What was it that gave you a spell, they have no idea what we are?Oneiric did, he had dreamt their darkness, he had seen them delivered, he would see their treasure taken away and placed against the edge of victory. It would cost the lives of angels and archetypes, but what did it matter, what did anything matter.

178 pages, Paperback

Published December 1, 2020