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It was a well known fact that the collie just wasn't doing well. It was by no fault of his own, though he blamed himself tremendously for worrying his friends. It wasn't as if if he had meant to get to the state he was now; barely alive, moving with troubling jolts, his eyes glazed over. It had, simply put, just happened.
One could imagine his great joy when he found himself in an obvious dreamland. Being a lucid dreamer, the lieutenant was able to tell when he was in a dream by picking out certain aspects. Today it was the sky.
He had never before seen the sky that shade of startling blue. But there it was. This could be realistic, except for one glaring fact that pointed out that he was dreaming: the moon was high in the sky, gleaming brightly and looking to be very large.
He stared at it for several long moments before deciding to take a look at his surroundings. He figured he would explore what his mind had created. Hemlock very much liked it, he noticed. The flowers were bright pink, and the trees were strangely full of healthy green leaves, though the forest floor was blanketed by crunchy brown ones.
It was really startling how lovely his mind could be at times. Now as he loved through it all, he became aware that he wasn't alone. For instance, as he stared at a peculiar orange flower, he felt a stare boring into his back. When he turned he could see a shadow slip away from the corner of his eye. He shook it off, thinking it must have been nothing. But it happened again when he was sipping from a crystalline brook full of round fish of amazingly bright colors. And yet again when he was busily turning a smooth, grey stone over in his paws.
Finally deciding to figure out what was going on, the Darkclanner dropped his smooth stone and spun. The shadow slipped away, just barely escaping Hemlock's vision. "Hello? Is anyone there? I'd really rather you came and spoke to me rather than stalk me!" he called out uneasily, hating the way his voice quivered and didn't sound strong at all.
"Stalking you? I'm trying to help you!" hissed a voice, followed by a cackling laugh that seemed to echo around Hemlock. It was dead cold, full of emotions that he couldn't decipher.
The forest suddenly didn't seem as bright and beautiful as before; the flowers had withered and died, the trees were now dark and leafless, appearing more like twisted claws grabbing at the lieutenant. As he turned back to the water he'd notice it was murky and dark. It seemed to bubble and boil, a harsh stench rising off of it.
"What do you want from me?" Hemlock screamed. The shadow just laughed. He spun around when something tapped on his shoulder, coming face to face with something that made his blood run cold and his heart stop. His breath felt like needles in his lungs as fear gripped him.
He was staring at himself; weakened, scrawny, with dark eyes and a twisted grin. But it was him nonetheless. "If you do not stop it, it will come for you, and it will destroy you. Remember. Remember!" hissed the sickly version of him.
Hemlock snapped awake, bolting upright.
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