Into the Dream

  • So many newbies lately! Here is a very important PSA about one of our most vital content policies! Read it even if you are an ancient member!
Not open for further replies.


Original poster
Ever since there was a massive outbreak on a disease, doctors had been running around all day, trying to cure it. Loved ones have been lost, and disturbing scenes have been witnessed. However, all these deaths that revolved around a single disease, every victim who was part of it...

Were all brutally murdered.

That's right, they are found on the hospital beds, the sheets stained with blood and ranging from a simple kill to a torture house. Police officers have been looking for clues on who the mysterious murder could be, and why it were only these people who were killed. They have yet to find the answer. They have been searching, for 5 years in fact, and the killer nor the source of this illness has been discovered even by the most talented scientists. However, one day, the scientists have found an incredible discovery,

None of these people have actually died.

It was inconceivable, and yet there it was. Although brutally strangled, killed, and possibly disorientated, the past patients were alive, somewhere, but where could they be? That was the one answer that man kind could not have came up with, even though they were barely alive and breathing. There were rare occasions when someone with this had sprung back to life after their wounds were healed, and people cried tears of joy. However, upon questioning, they seemed to have lost all memory of being diagnosed with the disease all together.

But the question is what is the disease? Who is the killer? What does this have to do with people sprinting back to life? Why are they not dead in the first place? It was just another mystery to be solved...

However, in reality, a little girl smiles and laughs as they attempt to solve her mystery. The people who were killed, more or less, were sent somewhere she called it 'the dream'. The dream was a pleasant place, originally a place with no starvation, no hardships, no stress, no poverty, everything was nice, happy, and perfect. At least, that's what it all seemed. They were all playing by the hand of a goddess, who was curious as to how much the human race wanted to live.

The dream's appearance revolved around one's mental and emotional state. Meaning when they enter, any previous sicknesses and diseases would be eliminated, and so they can move freely. However, this is the difference between someone who is happy with someone who is depressed.

Happy - They will move freely, meet luck, do good in school, work, relationships and everything else.
Neutral - They will move freely, however have less luck, and more of a realistic probability of situations.
Sad - It will be gloomy for them, and they will feel a slight headache pounding their head. Also, their luck is slightly reduced.
Angry - Everything in their eyes and mind is distorted, they can't think clearly, and they are prone to stress.
Depressed - Everything in their eyes and mind is distorted, and everything they see will scare the hell out of them.

Although this is very simple, these stages affect those in the dream heavily and can result in a life or death. When in the 'depressed zone' for longer than 3 dream days (I will say what time of day it is and when the day is over) then they will be sent to the 'nightmare'.

The nightmare is where all the depressed people go, and it is literally hell. They are forced in a sick environment where everything is messed up, however are unaware that this is all an illusion, and the monsters cannot hurt them in the nightmare unless they allow them to. There are 2 states the character can be in here.

Depressed - As stated above, however emphasized due to excessive gore and mutant monsters.
Brave - The only hope of getting out. If the character is able to think that the monsters cannot hurt them, and has a determined outlook, they may return to the happy dream and begin with 'Neutral'.

Those who are able to leave the dream will have a few options on what they want. The only way to leave the dream is to realize that this isn't the real world, and that they are, in fact, dreaming.

1. Return to their old life and have a wish granted. (Wish must be for another person, and the character will live a long life with a very painless death.)
2. Go to heaven and wish for something for their next life, or for someone currently alive.
3. (Elderly) To move onto heaven and wish for something for their next life.

Those in the nightmare will have 5 dream days to brave. (Those in the nightmare MUST post in grey font). If they do not brave in those 5 days, they will be sent to hell. (Meaning they will be no longer able to play as that character in this role play.) Also, they can be sent to hell by 'dying'. Although they cannot physically die in the dream, then can emotionally and mentally lose all hope and 'die' like that, automatically being sent to hell.

Finally, those who are ALIVE (Meaning not in the dream or the nightmare) will post in GREEN FONT.

1. No god modding. I know it's a dream, but come on.
2. Yes you can fly and you can pretend you have magic powers (Available to Happy and Neutral)
3. Please make it realistic. Don't go from Depressed to suddenly happy all at once please, take time to develop your character's feelings and mental + emotional state.
4. Yes, you may role play as a living person without the disease.
5. Please fill out the character sheet below, and have no more than 2 characters.

6. Absolutely no meta-gaming!
7. Obey all rules stated above, including this one!

Character sheet

(Insert anime photo here)
Status: (Living, Verge to Dreaming, or diseased?)
Description: (Any details not shown in the picture?)
Current disabilities: (Mute? Legs disabled? All this will be removed in the dream however must be interpreted when sad, angry, or depressed.)
Abilities: (Will be interpreted into the dream)


Additional note: If there is anything I missed, please message me about it. It's my first time making a role play thread so there are bound to be flaws. Also, don't fluffing manipulate the environment without my permission! The only people who can manipulate how the worlds go will be myself and people who I chose.
Last edited by a moderator:


Dream Goddess

Goddess and creator of the dream system and disease
Infamous Killer who sends those to the dreams

She holds a small, wand like item with a star at the tip, and also has a dark purple veil with star patterns on and around it. Her eyes are also a blank, pale grey colour.

Current disabilities
She is Mute, Blind, and Deaf, and so she cannot communicate to others through regular means.


As usual, the goddess herself was sitting on a throne like all worshipped deities would be. She had grown bored, and she had no idea how to entertain herself. She had been hearing many complaints from the other gods, hearing many bad things about humans and they eventually began questioning their will to live despite so many abilities. The goddess then had sparked an idea. She placed it in motion, with a simple flick of the wrist. She created another illusional universe she would call 'the dream', and pick out random people to become her test subjects, and these had inherited the disease. The symptoms included headaches, heavy drowsiness, lack of energy, and sometimes a weakened heart rate or lower blood pressure, even sometimes to a heart attack or lack of actually using the energy to breath! Some would even go delusional as well.

Scientists had dubbed thee, Fabrication Syndrome. Those who had mysteriously inherited this disease, had been brutally murdered, leading to a serial killer case which has not been closed up to this day. Behind all this, was a girl, smiling to herself as she watched humans begin to play the sick game that she called it in such an innocent way. Everyone who entered would faintly hear it, yet brush it off thinking it were their imagination before awaking in the dream world she had created.

"Welcome to the dream."

*first boy in the picture*

Name: Artemis

Age: 17

Status: Verge to Dreaming

Occupation: Juvenile Detention Center

Description: Awaiting trial in the Juvenile Detention Center for aggravated assault

Current disabilities: Low stress tolerance


Artemis struggled to breathe, his shoulders heavy and lungs seemingly swimming in water. Holding a hand up to the cold wall in his isolation cell, Artemis tried to choke out words for help.

Artemis, you're mommy's favorite boy! Mommy has a surprise for you! Meet Luke, he's staying with us for awhile okay? Just until mommy can get our house back alright?

The smell of foundation powder, the rustle of scratchy fabric that shrouded his mother for work. Artemis coughed, tried to suck in air, body's weight finally pulling his hand from the white wall and onto the floor. There was no air, it was all crushing and suffocating him. Just like two weeks ago, the same incident.

"What did you do to her!?"

Luke's wide scared eyes turned to view Artemis panting in the doorway. His mother, sprawled across the floor, long thick hair covering her face.

"I-I don't know. I don't know!"

Luke's voice rose in hysterics, body beginning to tremble. Artemis felt his vision fading into black, tunneling and slipping from his grasp.

"Answer me! She wouldn't fall! She's not weak!"

Luke shook his head despite Artemis's strong grip on his shirtfront.

"I thought, if I shook her up a bit, she would- she would- It's not my fault! I didn't kill her! This is your fault!"

Artemis released Luke's shirt, choking. His hands curled into his hair, twisting and wrenching.

Artemis, sleep for mommy okay? She's going to go work so we can get our house back!
What about dad?

The thoughts forced their way into his head. They choked him. They screamed for his attention demanding he respond to the death of his mother. Death. She was dead. His mother was gone and with it went the very light of his world. Artemis looked down to his bruised and bloody knuckles, not aware that he had been attacking whilst he was in a trance-like state. Luke was still underneath him, face a mass of blood and swollen flesh. The police. He needed to get the police, get the ambulance, find help. The words resounded within his cold body while he stumbled through the house hallways. Help... help.... help me... help me! The phone was smeared with the blood. Who's blood. Artemis didn't know. He didn't know what he was going to do. How was he supposed to live without his mother?

Artemis doesn't remember the police arriving. He remembers them rushing into the house finding his seated on the floor, phone still in hand. When did he finish the call? How long has it been? His mom, his mom...

They shake him, ask him questions, back away quickly when he vomits onto the floor. They haul him outside. Luke is screaming profanities from across the lawn. There are two men conversing together, Artemis is sluggish in the cold handcuffs binding his wrists. He hears the first pieces of their conversation before they force him into the police cruiser.

"Looks like the Fabrication Syndrome got to her. Apparently the boyfriend over here tried to "revive her" but the kid took it the wrong way. Anyway he's pressing charges and we have no choice but to take him into custody. There are no other guardians, relatives, besides he has quite the few other charges on his record".

"That kid looks like shit. Well, guess it all runs in the family".

Artemis feels saliva trickle from the corner of his mouth. His cheek rests against the cool and dirty tile, grit and dust powdering his face. Slowly, his vision fades to grey, and back into view. Startling colors shine brightly, before muting themselves back into greyscale. Artemis tries to take a breath inwards, his body is so desperate for oxygen physical pains are plaguing him. There is no energy for it. Artemis suffocates, somewhere distantly in the back of his mind, there are screams for oxygen, the fight to survive. Instead the world nearly fades into dark, but not before he feels cold metal splitting his flesh and probing into the warmer parts of the meat shrouding his bones. The pain is an afterflash to what happens next.

A voice. Her voice. Who's voice? His voice?

Welcome to the Dream.
  • Like
Reactions: Nano
Back on earth, a female wearing a mask and a black suit was standing over the male she had murdered, and was actually able to speak. It took out a sticky, scribbled on it, and then placed it on top of the area where the boy was bloody murdered. "Good night." She said, smiling and then suddenly disappearing into thin air.

Now, returning to the female on the throne...

The female had three holograms in front of her; Earth, the Dream world, and the Nightmare. At the moment, there were quite a few people panicking when their loved one had the disease, and she almost felt sorry for them; almost. 'I want to see just how much you want to live.' She smiled, flicking her finger through one of the holograms. She was able to create the nightmare so well because all she ever relyed on was her telepathy to 'see' and her imagination, also fitting for her title.

She was looking at the image of a boy, sleeping on his bed. This was how they all entered the dream, and of course, his mother was still there, however neutral. She was downstairs cooking, as the boy was still in his bed. It would make sense for someone to wake up in their bed in their dream so they don't easily realize it. The goddess giggled one that let out no sound, and she begun looking over earth as well. Everything was in panick from the murder, along with the drastic amount of people dying at the same time. At this rate, almost half of the world population would be cut down.

Then so be it.

The less humans alive the better; just think of it as thinning out the herd. Also, it wasn't like they couldn't return either! Some actually preferred staying in the dream. The illusions of their loved ones, the illusions of everything nice, it was all there. However the dream world had one major rule.

'If you think it's a dream, you mustn't tell others!'

If one were to try, their speech would become horribly disorientated, thus impossible to make out what they are trying to say.

Artemis felt angry. It was a soothing solace for him, the burning itch coating the inside of his skin, prodding him to use his fists to talk. Before he opened his eyes, the only thing that he could muster was anger, and anger alone. There was no questioning his new environment, or a slight fear of not knowing where he was. Artemis was angry that he was here, angry that he didn't know where he was. Opening his eyes, there was a brutal swarm of red, a mass of oil paint splashed against a black canvas before it receded to the edges of his vision. Sitting up, Artemis was in his bed. Not just any bed, but the one bed that he used the memory of to lull him to sleep when his mother wasn't home and Luke would play video games until an hour before Artemis would wake for school. This was the bed with the wooden poster board, the worn handles on the right from his father's hands holding onto it whenever he would kiss Artemis goodnight.

The idea infuriated him. Why was it here? It had been seven years! Clutching a hand to his head, a dry laugh escaped Artemis. It was sick, how similar the sheets were. The cool blue colors as the fitted sheet, but the comforter was a dark navy blue. Trying to quell the surging rage like a queasiness, Artemis cast his gaze about the room, searching for something, different. The entire room betrayed him. The various medals in the far left corner by the doorway were all arranged from the first basketball match to the last. That was just last year. Frustration welled inside Artemis. Last year? What year? As soon as the fleeting feeling emerged from the pool of anger that something might be wrong occurred to Artemis, it was drug back down with the anger that those medals didn't deserve to be there.

Staggering from the bed, Artemis clawed his fingers around every ribbon, yanking it from the wall. The long-awaited satisfaction he hoped to receive never emerged. Instead, the anger built on itself, pushing him to now grab the bookshelf of magazines him and his father would share and swap by leaving them on the counter, books that he had received from his mother. They all spilled to the floor, smooth covers gliding on themselves and others. Whirling around, there was the small desk endless drawings and doodles covered. Ripping the lamp from the wall, it flew across the room with a resounding shatter. The desk went upturned, papers flying everywhere. Not stopping, Artemis scooped up the papers, intent on destroying them. Every drop of sorrow that had formed this endless well that Artemis sat at the bottom of was ignited into the fury and rage of seven years of abandonment.

Before he could start in on the closet to the right of the doorway, a voice sounded from the hallway.

"Artemis? Are you awake?"

The voice of his mother. Had he been in his right state of mind, no if he had been forced into the idle state of mind, maybe Artemis would have felt relief. Relief for what? Did she even fight to get his father back? To bring back the days of family bliss when the only worries were if his father would show up to the basketball match? Artemis's hand was on the doorknob wrenching the door open, and there he stood. The father that had been gone for seven years without a trace, leaving him confused and shattered.

"Your mother- what the hell?"

The voice was unmistakable, the gruff edge at the back of his throat when he spoke casually, the surprise at Artemis's always exploding emotions. For a moment, Artemis's hand on the doorknob lost all will, body to stunned to feel. Then anger clenched that hand back into a fist, crushing the blood vessels underneath the skin. Words screamed and assaulted him, demanding answers to the mystery of seven years ago. Looking up at his father, the sight of his five-o'-clock shadow and mussed hair from the morning was the start of Artemis's depression, whether he knew it or not.
"He really doesn't want to live, does he?"

The female asked herself, staring down at the little orb and at the confused male. Who could blame him? He had been living a life where things where the complete opposite of what he had before death. He had a loving family, a home to live in, memories to be proud of, it's like everything took a complete 180 degree turn back to the past, before all the bad things happened. Of course, due to his anger, and due to his depression, everything would slowly start disorientating due to the dream. The poor soul, but it was a test at the very least. Then again, since his mother was there, and she saw her son fall into the nightmare, maybe she would possibly fall back into depression as well? Only time will tell.

It was the morning, the sun shining through the windows, the birds chirping and singing their lovely little song. Of course, all of this would most likely be disorientated into something messed up, and of course the girl didn't want things to be messed up in her own 'perfect dream world', she split the good and the bad up, and even if the son were to fall to the pits of the nightmare, there would just be the illusion to replace him.

As if nothing happened.

Of course, it was her world, yes? There wasn't any way she would let the good people feel bad in that world, so all the bad people were sent to an equally bad place. Staring down at the holograms, which was pretty useless considering she were blind, someone walked into her room, speaking to her telepathically.

"Madam, there is a meeting with the other gods at the moment. They appear to be enraged with your method of dreams. Please enter the meeting hall." They concluded, bowing to her and then walking out. Just wonderful, as if nothing else could make this day any better. She slowly got up, walking to the door as if she had done this a million times. The moment she entered the room, she was greeted with a hall full of angered gods and goddesses.

"Are you crazy?! You're making humans go through such a mentally challenging test, and you expect them to pass?!" A god would ask, and she nodded. They all thought she was crazy, but none of them knew how many people had the will to survive, and how many people had passed her test. All of those subjects? Yes, they were all chosen randomly, and none of the gods have noticed up until they noticed the sudden drop of human population.

The goddess then stood up and left the conversation, even though most gods were yelling and scolding her. "I'm tired. Let me rest." She told them, and so returned to her room, staring at the orbs in front of her.
Last edited by a moderator:
OOC: Oh God, I'm so sorry. I forgot to watch the thread and I didn't get any notifications!

No. No, no, no. His father shouldn't be here. He was supposed to be with his new girlfriend, where they laughed into the late hours of the night in their new house, light spilling from every room and out the windows. Where was Christine? Where was the woman that had ripped his home away from him, stealing all of his father's love, and lastly, making him feel invisible in the very presence of the only man he had ever relied on. Artemis knew anger, and then, Artemis felt a stronger taste of despair. His father wouldn't wear a five o' clock shadow when he was with Christine. Was this to mock his mother? Or him? Artemis surged forward, feeling his shoulder sink into his dad's gut. There was a choke of air above him before his father fell down, slamming into the wall behind him and sliding down. Artemis reared up, despair clinging to the edges of his vision as some kind of blue and grey haze. The words of a madman clawed at the fringes of his mind, screaming and howling with questions left unanswered, ignored, rejected. His fist raised, the moment suspended as it always was for every fight at school, the kids ringed around them closing in on his consciousness. Hit him. Hit him. Artemis dropped his fist, prepared to bury it in the cheekbone, back up, and then another to the eye to stun him. Just for good measure, Artemis would dig his fingers into his father's hair, holding his head back. Do it.


Only one woman's voice could be that shrill, so terrified of her own son, and the horror in her voice stopped Artemis. In one big gust, the anger clouding his mind evaporated, small snowflakes of wretched despair landing on his cheeks and eye;ashes. Artemis's fist lowered, sagged by his side. His father was no longer there, just cold concrete underneath his knees. Artemis opened his eyes, staring out at the dark clouds, nearly transparent in their grey forms. Finally, Artemis turned his head towards his mother, staring at her face through eyes swimming with tears. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a bun, just like she used to do it on Saturdays before his basketball matches when she was busy preparing breakfast. It was not the face of a mother who loved him, it was the face of a mother tired of providing for a child who could never let go of the past. As comforting as her face seemed to be to Artemis, there was a black patch spreading across his chest, barbs digging deep inside, a coil of thorns taking place of his heart.

"Honey, why-"

"Mom", Artemis's voice broke, tears slipping down his cheeks.

She paused in her statement, looking at him in wonder. Artemis was no longer her child. Artemis would never be enough for her. Artemis, was not, needed.

"You're supposed to be dead", Artemis let out the remaining words with a sob.

The snow piling around Artemis surged upwards in a flurry of delicate crystals, and with it, the last expression of his mother's face. They thinned out and froze, delicate and sparse flakes suspended in the air, Artemis breathing heavily with endless tears dripping off his chin. Tipping his head back to the cold skies, a cry of pain escaped his throat. Endless and resounding, it seemed to stretch out endlessly, never echoing off of anything. Artemis could barely breathe through his heaves and screams. Somewhere within him, in the absence of the anger, the black blight took root on his body, the light around him darkening like a fading spotlight. The thorns in the empty hole of his chest shivered. Ah, so this was, his despair.
Not open for further replies.