Chapter Text
John has always had the strangest dreams. Actually, he doesn't remember most of his dreams, but he knows that they are weird and make him laugh whenever he thinks back on them. This dream however, was different from the outline of his usual dreams.
It started out with him in his dad's bakery. It was night outside and he, his dad and his friend Rose were making the dough for the next morning. Rose was mixing the ingredients together, his dad was kneading the dough and John was frosting a cake for a party tomorrow. These nights were not uncommon in John's childhood and they were the nights that John loved most; being able to talk to his dad about anything while they would knead dough together. Laughing with Rose about something their school friends had said earlier that day. Yes, those nights were quite fun, even if John hated the food he was making.
John was looking down at this scene, when his dad stopped kneading the dough and stared at John. Dream John seemed to feel his dad's gaze and looked up at him.
"What's going on, Dad?"
His dad was quiet for just a second, maybe thinking about his words, before answering his question with another question.
"Have you ever wished for a sibling?"
John had never been asked this question before. His dad would ask silly questions during these nights, like what kind of pony would you like to be, not serious ones. John hadn't thought about having a sibling for the longest time.
"I wished for siblings before Rose showed up, but I haven't thought about it since. Why do you ask? Don't tell me I have some secret sister on our front porch now." John tried to joke, but Dad didn't seem to be up for it. He still looked quite serious, but took off his hat and wiped his non sweaty forehead.
"I think I would know if I had a secret daughter out there. I couldn't bear the thought of not having her live with me, or wondering around in the world without meeting her and having something to eat. I wouldn't do that. I can't stand the sight of unfed children, let alone the mere thought that I've abandoned my child in some way."
John just stared at his dad. What was going on in his head? Why was he thinking this? Real John had never had a conversation like this with Real, and very dead, Dad.
Dream John got the urge to go outside, wanting to really check now if he indeed have a sister on the front porch. Dream Dad was scaring him a bit.
John didn't even say anything else to his dad, and opened the bakery door to the Center Circle Market. The center of the town of Maple Valley and where the Market truly started. The sun was shining and the market stands were set up along the perimeter of the circle. The center of the circle had a wide postboard where many pages fluttered in the tiny wind.
Real John was now in the eyes on Dream John, staring at the scene he had not thought about nor dreamed in a very long time. There is a triangle of kids, no more than 10, kicking a white ball to each other. There was a girl with long black hair and buck teeth, a girl with abnormally short hair and wearing a scarf and a boy with pale hair and skin.
The buck toothed girl looked up from their game and relaxed her competitive position to wave at John.
"Hiya John! Did your dad finally let you out of the bakery?"
All the kids now turned to him, the ball halting at the feet of pale boy.
"Did you bring any rolls John? My bro wouldn't let me have anymore apple juice like it was alcohol and I was an addict." The pale boy called.
"Dave, you do have some extraordinary words in that brain of yours, but I believe your brother was right. You do drink too much apple juice."
At this, the black haired girl tittered and the pale boy shrugged his shoulders and strode over to John.
"So what? It's not like apple juice can harm me, it'll just make me quicker. Apples make you quicker John, did you know that?"
All the kids were now gathered around him, and John remembered their faces. They were his childhood friends, before they all moved away of course. He never spoke or wrote to them again after they moved, except for Rose. So seeing this, made John feel nostalgic. His heart was pulled at a bit to see this exchange take place. This was a classic scene that would take place everyday. Dave asking for sweets, Jade wanting to test Dave on if he could in fact get quicker with every apple he ate and Rose thinking they were both hopelessly in love but still willing to give them her mother's swords to test how fast Dave was after apples. And where would John be in this scenario? Handing out the rolls and pastries, giving Dave a leg up the tree, agreeing with Rose full-heartily and teasing Jade about her crush.
John smiled at his friends and replied," Sorry, Dad wouldn't let me snag any treats today. I did take a lot more than the usual yesterday. But really? Apples make you faster? Did you get an inventor to confirm that?"
Dave opened his mouth to reply but Rose cut him off.
"Of course, no inventor would spend their time on that stupid theory. Dirkander probably made it up so Dave would stop drinking the sweet juice."
"Rose is maybe right Dave. Although, I hope we can still pick some apples after this, I'm quite hungry myself and my sweet supplier just got cut off."
"Sorry folks, next time around, I promise. Anyway, what are we playing?"
“We’re playing this super complicated game that can’t be explained in accurate detail without its creator present.” Dave blew out.
“Dave, we are the creators, and we’re just passing the ball around.” Jade snapped.
“If I may say, it’s getting quite cold, perhaps we could go inside?” Rose interrupted.
Now that John wasn’t watching the exchange of words between the two, he did notice that is was considerably darker.
“Why go inside? It’s still good out here, we can pass the ball around a few times before going inside for snacks.” Dave was tossing the ball to each hand, and looked around a bit; maybe to see if it was getting dark enough to quite playing outside.
“Dave, maybe Rose is right?” John started, looking around as well at the darker buildings,” I mean, it’s getting chilly too and….”
John stopped speaking his sentence as he saw the sun get covered up. The mass that covered the sun was huge and growing ever larger. It was coming straight toward them too. And, unless he just was seeing things. He saw something on top of the sun blocker that was a different shade entirely from the mass. It glowed purple and looked like a person. Was a person riding the mass straight towards them?
John didn't dwell on that too long, because his ankle was grabbed by a wet hand.
The person gripping his ankle had made his heart tighten: Rose.
Rose wasn't little anymore. She had been dressed in yellow attire that was painted with blood, but her face was the worst. It was on the brink of death. It had the same grey that his dad had worn before he died and the eyes were alarmingly white. Her face had been covered in blood; there had been blood pushing out of the corners of her eyes, dripping out of her nose and leaking from her white to now pink hair. But she was alive and squeezing his ankle.
As he had lowered himself to the ground, he had surveyed the new scene in front of him. There were bodies littering the Center Circle and small piles of bodies with streams of blood coming down the mound. Some corpses were torn apart and weren't next to the other half, others were in one piece. The corpses were so thick that one would have to pick their way carefully through the bodies. He had recognized some corpses too. Neighbors, family members, villagers and friends. One thing was the same among all of them; they were covered in blood and dead.
This view had been frightening to him. He had never dreamed of this stuff before. He could have never imagined up any picture this gory much less put it on people he liked. It was... painful, heart-wrenching, scarring and... terrible. Why had this happened? Why had John thought this up?
John crouched down, there being corpses all around him, and grabbed at the hand that lay on her chest. The hand hadn’t respond at all and showed all signs of death. Yet, the pink eyes had followed him down. The mouth had started to move.
"John.... this will happen... we can't stop it.... death follows our paths from here on.... out.... I'm sorry... but this will hurt.... seeing the bodies pile up, but.... we've be saving.... the next generation.... making it better for them.... this.... is never your fault... never think that or belie-believe that or say-say that-that this is-was-is all your fault.... we'll.... split... the bill."
“You can’t be splitting anything if you’re dead! You have to stay with me! Where is your magic? Why can’t that stop this?”
John's heart was falling to pieces from it being squeezed so hard. He picked up her body and brought it up. He settled on his knees and laid her on his knees. His eyes were running with pure liquid as the blood stopped flowing from hers. The body had gone the coldest he had ever felt it go and the little bit of life that had kept face moving left. He had been holding her up because if he let her down, he'd never wake up from this dream. He would be stuck with the corpses and this "future" she spoke off.
He wanted this to stop. It had to be time for him to wake up and he’d never go to sleep again. He'd never dream again if this is what the gods wanted to show him. This had all been a vision, he had decided. That had been the only way to explain it. They were horrible; the gods. They couldn't do this to him or his friends. They couldn't kill them all off and expect it to be righteous. They had no right to show him this horrible path that he might take if he chose to. They couldn't make him willing let everyone die. He would rather die than let this happen.
He ripped himself awake.