This stemmed out from something and I used to do years ago in grade school. We shared a lot of our wacky dreams as a way to pass the time. Some of them were epic fight scenes, others just plain random. I thought I'd practice writing using these dreams as a theme to write on. Yes, I did write this one down the morning after. I always have a notebook/sketchpad/book on my bedside table.

... My deep breathing seem to echo through the corrider where I wait. Beside me lay a door where two people lay waiting. They were hiding behind the cover of another wall within that room. I readied the shotgun that were in my hands and I committed myself. There I stood sideways and pressed against the doorframe giving my opponents a smaller window of oppurtunity. In my sights was a soldier who was reloading and I took the oppurtunity and pulled the trigger. It took me a moment to realize that no recoil occured and no shot came out. I hastily duck behind cover and reload with my back pressed against the wall. On the eighth shell, I cock the gun and return to fire once more only to find that the gun was not cocked. I cocked it and confidently pulled the trigger. A click and no more. The gun jammed. I duck back behind cover to fix the jam. The moment I return to fire, BOTH of them had me in their iron sights while I stared down the barrels of their assault rifles. I leapt for safety behind the cover of the wall, narrowly missing the gunshots that cracked past me ears.

I decide to run down the corridor that would allow me to circle around their position and come up from behind. The moment I make it into a room with ornate and antique furniture I find that one of the two soldiers was already there. I took aim but he fired first releasing a round of pellets that impacted on my left shoulder. I fall back from the impact from the blast and look up at him. In a desperate attempt I lift up my right hand that held the shotgun and shot him in the chest area. He falls back frozen as the pellets and paint explode on his body. I rush past him, my left arm limp and dripping with paint, heading through the door the first soldier passed.

I dropped the shotgun and pull out my sidearm and barged into the room. I find the second soldier with his gun at the ready two feet away from me. I dropped my gun and quicklyspun to the side keeping out of his line of fire. By the time my ack was facing him I was in front of him and where my hand was was his gun. I gripped his firearm and forced it out of his hand with the momentum I had. Successfully disarming him somewhat I find myself losing balance and falling on my back. I look up to see the soldier pulling out a knife. I raised the gun I just got from him and tried to take aim with one hand. I stop to realize that the object in my hand was a small suitcase...

Yes, and that is where it ends. This was reconstructed from the what so little my mind remembered from this dream. I have another dream but I misplaced the notes I have for that.

Anyway, thanks for reading.