The Dreamscape

By Dan Verkys

Light turns to darkness, and he awakens on a small hilltop surrounded by desolate grasslands in all directions, it is treeless and featureless as far as his eyes can see. A fog covers the land in a low grey cloudy blanket that seems to move with the breaths of a gentle breeze that blows intermittently. He is barefoot, he curls his toes in the powdery dark dry soil beneath his feet, grounding him, making this strange place feel very real indeed.  Below his feet he can feel growing vibrations, caused by some kind of movement deep in the ground below. Like the rest of the landscape, the dark hilltop is barren and dry, but in the dim light before him, he can make out parts of an old broken timber structure, they lay scattered amongst tall grass and natural detritus, visible like islands in the foggy grey ocean that surrounds them. A sudden warm breeze blows, clearing the fog and fallen leaves from the ground as the hilltop begins to rumble. A symphony of struggle grows in the ground, as the crunching and grinding sounds of earth and plant matter battle it out before emerging from the soil. Thick thorned vines begin to pierce the surface, their spiny tendrils twisting, knotting, and unifying as they begin to rise upwards, their fervour growing as they gather, amassing themselves into several thick columns of solid matter.

As they burst forth from the earth, the large vines raise pieces a giant skull from below the surface, they wrap, bind, and pull together, moulding and reshaping the pieces, reforming that grinning bone face that lies beneath the skin of every human. The vast skull rotates and reforms high above him, the absence of the mandible is soon remedied, as vines and timber from the old structure begin to form a crude arch that is soon filled with a door in the location of the mouth. Suddenly the hands and forearms of two giant arms, break through the surface vertically on either side of the skull, showering him with soil, the massive hands open, as the arms slowly begin to fall towards the skull, as they make contact they grasp either side, squeezing together, and re-enforcing the newly constructed structure, locking it in place, above the skull, where sections of the calvaria are missing, timber and vines combine to create a pitched roof. The eyes of the giant skull are filled with filthy old wooden framed windows plucked from the wreckage in the long grass and are sealed in place by countless thorny branches.

Everything that has formed this incredible structure begins to constrict, the elements seem to groan and strain with the squeeze as the structure becomes solid. The outer wrists of the arms suddenly crumble inward leaving two large holes, the exposed cavities are quickly formed into two vast screaming mouths, the massive hands seem to grip the sides of the skull tighter as they brace themselves against the pain.  He covers his ears in a bid to protect them from the awful sound.  Further vines quickly burst from the soil entangling the forearms, wrapping them, then pulling them tight as if to prevent any escape, as they do, the newly formed mouths scream at a higher pitch, the terrible sound is a protest against their own creation. The cries soon fall silent leaving the mouths gaping open.  Looking up he finds himself standing before a looming house-like structure.  Three great flat stones slowly rise from the ground, the sound of their surfaces grinding together is a testimony to their size and weight, this final flourish creates three steps leading up to the doorway, the door of which slowly creaks open in an inviting fashion.

He steps forward and climbs the stairs, and with a trembling hand, he reluctantly pushes the battered old wooden door open before stepping across the threshold and into the darkness within. On entering, he can hear the wooden beams and vines above his head creak and groan as the living structure continues to gently move and settle in place. Beyond the door is pitch black, the only light source comes from the open doorway behind him, which is suddenly shut off as the door slams closed, the sharp sound startles him and it’s followed by the rattling and sliding of vines as they grow over and encase the doorway, disallowing any exit.

Clumsily, he searches his pockets trying to feel for a box of matches or a lighter, something to create some light in the darkness.  Fortunately, he hears the familiar rustle of a half empty box of matches in his right front trouser pocket, with some relief he removes the matches, lighting one, he quickly scans the room around him while he can see. It’s a small empty round room, there is no furniture, and it resembles the hollow of a tree. Thorny vines, branches, and straw-like grass line the walls, with leaves and dirt combining to cover the floor. To his left he spots a crude narrow staircase formed by branches vines and old timber planks that jut from the wall, it twists its way up through a hole in the ceiling. The match suddenly burns his fingers and goes out. After striking a second match, he snaps a branch from the wall that seemed to be recoiling from his reach, and after lighting some of the leaves at its end, he stuffs it with long grass to create a makeshift torch.  Torch in hand he makes his way up the staircase while he has light, each step creaks and groans as he ascends. Every part of this building is alive, he can feel it moving gently as if it was uncomfortable with his presence within. He can hear the fingers of the giant hands outside gripping the skull tighter, causing dust and bone fragments to rain down on him, the hands slightly releasing their grip as he emerges on the upper level.

The second floor of the structure appears to be much larger than it looks from the outside, again there is no furniture, however pieces of the damaged old building which moments ago lay in the fog have been placed, and they line the walls and floor, as a result, it looks more like a regular room, it is also considerably brighter due to the dirty windows that face the front of the structure, they are clearly those he saw pulled up from the fog to fill the eye cavities of a skull.  There is the sound of movement behind him, as he turns, he watches the stairway opening where he entered the room seal over, as thick vines, branches, and several old wooden beams slide into place, entrapping him.  Apart from the two old square glass windows, there is no obvious means of escape. Now that he has enough light, he extinguishes his makeshift torch.  On closer inspection of the windows, he can hear the vines tighten around the old frames, the brittle glass vibrating as a silent warning that he’s getting too close, he notices that the windows cannot be opened.  Sealed within this thorny cell he finally begins to question the situation, “what is this place, why am I here, how did I get here?”.  Lost in thought, he steps away from the windows and crosses to the rear wall of the room, where he again senses movement.  Although they appear dried and dead, the vines move with incredible flexibility as if they were still alive.  He watches in amazement as they twist and knot, suddenly growing out of the floor and the back wall, within moments they have formed a crude throne-like armchair, apparently providing him a place to sit and ponder his situation further. He stares out through the old windows, the very embodiment of a brain inside the giant skull in which he is now imprisoned.

He sat with his thoughts for some time, thinking about his past, about people, and the things he’s said and done, or unkindnesses he had experienced, and a great sadness overcame him, a profound sadness, feeling as though he has wasted his life. And now, he is an inmate within this corpse-like shell of a structure, feeling lost, like he’s part asleep and part awake, numb and confused, his only thoughts are, what is this place, and what is it doing to him?

He gazes unblinking for a while at a large, knotted section of a vine that is so big it could easily be mistaken as a tree trunk. In the texture of that twisted knot his weary eyes begin to make out the shape of a face. The more he stares, the clearer the face becomes. Two large eyes, a twisted nose, and a busted lip surrounding a grotesque mouth, stare back at him. “Where am I, what is this place?”  he asks the face, in a sudden awkward skeletal like fashion, the mandible of the crude face shifts from side to side, as if trying to break itself free of the vines in preparation to speak.

With a harsh whispered voice it can initially hiss but one word, “Dreaming”.  “What do you mean dreaming” he replies, “what does that mean, is this all just a dream?  I don’t remember even falling asleep”. “Dreaming” the contorted face hisses again, before continuing, “Dreaming, we’re all just dreaming, you were never awake, you have always slept here in the darkness, but for the first time, you’re seeing the real world around you for what it truly is, this place and everything in it is constructed by your mind as you sleep”.

Standing, he approaches the windows that gaze out across an obscure winding landscape, he can see the breeze blowing long dry grass that seem to grow in a swirling clusters across desolate hilltops in an unnatural manner.  This world is dark, as if it is caught in an eternal night, there is no moon in the sky, just stars, but are they really stars? or are they merely holes poked into the dark fabric that cover the eyes as his physical body as it slumbers in a distant place unknown. “How do I leave this place?”, he asks the face, it’s reply is brief and dismissive, “I have no more answers to your questions, just to that which has already been asked”. He can feel his temper burning within him, frustrated with2 his incarceration, and the mocking manner of the carved face that now smirks at him. The face continues “There is no escape from this place, you will remain here for all time”. Suddenly he lunges elbow first at the nearest window, shattering it instantly, several sharp shards fall onto his bare feet, quickly he reaches down groping in the dim light for a large piece of glass, finding one he quickly plunges the glass deep into the right eye of the face, it lets out a horrendous scream, and the building round him shakes recoiling from his sudden assault.  Taking several steps back from howling face, blood pours from the wound he has inflicted. Seeing his opportunity to escape, now that the structure is distracted, he quickly hurls himself runs, leaping out through the broken window. Although he successfully clears the windowsill, his right thigh catches on a jagged shard of glass jutting from the old wooden frame, it slices deep, spraying the outside of the giant eye socket with his warm blood. 

As he falls from the window he’s suddenly caught in mid-air by several large vines, their small sharp thorns hooking him, holding him in place, the more he struggles the more tangled he becomes, he screams in pain as the vines quickly begin to wrap around his neck, his cries stifled as they take hold. He can feel the fines bind his arms and his legs at forearm and calf. The suddenly pull tight tugging his helpless body into a star shape, held firmly, helpless in midair, they tighten further, just enough to break the skin, his face contorts with the pain as he tries hopelessly to escape from the restrictions the vines are putting him through, but he cannot, he is held fast.  The thorny bristles around his neck constrict, forcing his eyes to suddenly refocus in terror, as another huge hand erupts up from the ground before him, the mouth formed at its wrist howls like a demon as the giant hand takes a crushing hold of his body.

Now in the grip of the giant hand, while bound by thorny vines, he realises that resistance is futile, and that he is at the mercy of this terrible place. “Let me go” he gasps, “please, let me wake, let me out of this place”. The enormous hand grips him tighter, silencing him before tearing him away from the structure, snapping the vines that held him, and bones of the limbs they entangled, he lets out an agonizing scream as the hand begins to squeeze. He can hear the wooden face howling from within the structure “You cannot escape your own mind, this place is your tomb”. The hand begins to crush him, and he can feel his bones begin to snap, as his rib cage collapsing as he coughs up blood.

What was once his body now resembling a limp, shapeless piece of dripping fabric, blood pours from every orifice and split in his skin. The blood-soaked ground below him begins to open, forming a massive gaping mouth, its teeth are made of stones and its structure is formed from vines and building rubble, its foul breath smells of rot and decay. The giant hand releases its grip, and his lifeless broken corpse is dropped down into the devouring darkness, the huge mouth suddenly slams shut, sealing him deep within.

Once his body has been consumed, the hand that crushed him, and those gripping the sides of the structure, release go limp and begin to slide back down into the earth, their howling mouths silence and close as they disappear. The huge vines also begin to loosen and unravel, slithering back into the dark soil like thorny serpents leaving the remnants of the giant skull and wooden structure to tumble to the ground, down into the low thick fog that is once again rolling in.  As the last of the vines slip back into the soil, they pull down any remnants of the skull or the building rubble. Before long the hilltop is clear as every part of the strange structure disappears beneath the surface.

A gentle wind blows again, depositing a fresh layer of fallen leaves and drawing in a blanket of fog that covers the scene of this horrendous interaction as if it never even happened.

This story was the foundation for my Dreamscapes album that I released in 2023, you can listen on youtube or on all music platforms. The Dreamscapes tale was born from an art series I have been creating for a while, as seen in the image above, or over at The Art of Dan Verkys on Facebook.