Prompt: Out of the blackness came a hand, or was it her imagination? The smoky shape extended from the heart of Granger’s bonfire. She closed her eyes. Instantly there was a memory of the billowing flames, the voice of the fire answering her thoughts. “Who are you?” the girl whispered, wanting to trust the voice. She had heard it before, calling to her, comforting her. “I am the Maker of Doors,” the voice replied. “And you are my Riddler.” Bumps formed along her arms. “Maker of Doors?”
“Too long you have run,” it answered. Hayley concentrated on the image of flames in her mind, slowly picking out the parts. There was a man, no two men, Granger and… Rob’s father. They stood on the edge of a cliff, their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
In the next instant the vision went dark, but a great roar of light revealed a drop of blood, Sandy crying out as he clutched his side. “You are not who you pretend to be,” Sandwood whispered through the fire. His voice faded on the wind. “He is wearing your mask,” the prophecy said in her mind. Hayley’s eyes flickered open. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fuze, an explosion of sparks and colors in her mind. Robert Sandwood was no ordinary man. The Grangers were not ordinary. Suddenly it all made sense, and Hayley let out a breath. There were three parts at play, three factions split long ago. John and Deputy Hanes didn’t care which Granger died first, as long as in the end, there were none left. Granger wanted her dead for his own purposes, but the third faction wanted to use her like it used him, a nameless villain. “Is it the Illusioner, or his master?” wondered the girl. But this mattered little, for in the morning his army would march upon Rivertow, washing with fire everything she cared about. How could she save them?
Prompt: Out of the blackness came a hand, or was it her imagination? The smoky shape extended from the heart of Granger’s bonfire. She closed her eyes. Instantly there was a memory of the billowing flames, the voice of the fire answering her thoughts. “Who are you?” the girl whispered, wanting to trust the voice. She had heard it before, calling to her, comforting her. “I am the Maker of Doors,” the voice replied. “And you are my Riddler.” Bumps formed along her arms. “Maker of Doors?”
“Too long you have run,” it answered. Hayley concentrated on the image of flames in her mind, slowly picking out the parts. There was a man, no two men, Granger and… Rob’s father. They stood on the edge of a cliff, their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
In the next instant the vision went dark, but a great roar of light revealed a drop of blood, Sandy crying out as he clutched his side. “You are not who you pretend to be,” Sandwood whispered through the fire. His voice faded on the wind. “He is wearing your mask,” the prophecy said in her mind. Hayley’s eyes flickered open. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fuze, an explosion of sparks and colors in her mind. Robert Sandwood was no ordinary man. The Grangers were not ordinary. Suddenly it all made sense, and Hayley let out a breath. There were three parts at play, three factions split long ago. John and Deputy Hanes didn’t care which Granger died first, as long as in the end, there were none left. Granger wanted her dead for his own purposes, but the third faction wanted to use her like it used him, a nameless villain. “Is it the Illusioner, or his master?” wondered the girl. But this mattered little, for in the morning his army would march upon Rivertow, washing with fire everything she cared about. How could she save them?
Would you like to report this Dream as inappropriate?
Prompt:
Out of the blackness came a hand, or was it her imagination? The smoky shape extended from the heart of Granger’s bonfire. She closed her eyes. Instantly there was a memory of the billowing flames, the voice of the fire answering her thoughts. “Who are you?” the girl whispered, wanting to trust the voice. She had heard it before, calling to her, comforting her. “I am the Maker of Doors,” the voice replied. “And you are my Riddler.” Bumps formed along her arms. “Maker of Doors?”
“Too long you have run,” it answered. Hayley concentrated on the image of flames in her mind, slowly picking out the parts. There was a man, no two men, Granger and… Rob’s father. They stood on the edge of a cliff, their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
In the next instant the vision went dark, but a great roar of light revealed a drop of blood, Sandy crying out as he clutched his side. “You are not who you pretend to be,” Sandwood whispered through the fire. His voice faded on the wind. “He is wearing your mask,” the prophecy said in her mind. Hayley’s eyes flickered open. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fuze, an explosion of sparks and colors in her mind. Robert Sandwood was no ordinary man. The Grangers were not ordinary. Suddenly it all made sense, and Hayley let out a breath. There were three parts at play, three factions split long ago. John and Deputy Hanes didn’t care which Granger died first, as long as in the end, there were none left. Granger wanted her dead for his own purposes, but the third faction wanted to use her like it used him, a nameless villain. “Is it the Illusioner, or his master?” wondered the girl. But this mattered little, for in the morning his army would march upon Rivertow, washing with fire everything she cared about. How could she save them?
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
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