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The Aztec Course

I’m forced to compete in this survival course, which only the winners are deemed worthy to live. The course is in a large, dark building and is mostly made of wood- wooden walls to climb over, wooden trap doors, wooden holes, wooden clubs and axes set to pressure plates. The entire thing is a giant death trap- and me and a group of people my age are running for our lives through it. None of us speak to each other. We’re all to focused on ensuring our own survival to be capable of meeting, talking to, and protecting each other.
My uncle is there, and he is my coach. He’s helping me through the coarse, telling me where not to step and what task needs to be completed before I can progress, and so on.
Not only is the coarse filled with deadly traps, but every section is timed. If you don’t complete the specific task before the timer runs out, you’ll disappear from the arena. No one knows what’s happening to those that don’t complete the task in the time limit as they always disappear when no one’s looking. Every section there is just fewer and fewer of us, and surely those who disappeared suffer death like anyone else caught in the traps.
I scale a complete vertical wooden wall that’s easily twice my height and come into the next area. The floor is multiple heights; there’s multiple wooden pits. On one side of each pit there’s a bucket with a weapon, and on the other side is a target. I’m so elated to finally see a weapon that I can defend myself with, that I grab the first one I see. The first one I see happens to be three javelins in the center of the room. They glow like an intractable item in The Last Of Us.
I spin around and look for threats, feeling like now that I have a weapon I can fight my way out of this stupid arena. I feel empowered and lose my sense of competition. Now I just want to break out and get away. A target hanging near a wall behind me moves in response to me turning toward it. I throw the javelin instinctively, and stick the weapon in the head of the man-shaped target- right in the center of the circle carved into it’s wooden head.
My uncle stands by in quiet disappointment at my lack of focus. I’m so empowered by the weapon that I don’t realize I’m still in the competition. Just because I have a weapon in my hands doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly free, and I realize this as the target I just hit turns into a living, breathing, in-the-flesh human giant at least ten feet tall. The man is practically made entirely of muscle, and is covered in scars. The most notable scars are a circular scar on his forehead and in the middle of his chest- right were the target carvings were on the wooden form. I throw another javelin, and even though I hit him square in the head again, he doesn’t go down. He screams something in Aztec, his vanes bulging in his massive neck- massive like every other aspect of his muscular body.
He charges for me. The reality hits me that I have to do this according to the powers-that-be’s rules, so I quickly figure out what went wrong. I see that I used the wrong weapon. This target, who barrels toward me ready to rip me in half, was intended to be killed with a green bow and green arrows that are in the bucket nearest this pit. I run to it and snatch the bow out of the bucket. I string an arrow, aim, and let loose.
As soon as the arrow hits him in the chest, he turns back into wood and falls over. The string of the bow, however, snaps in the process- because instead of the green arrow that I was supposed to shoot I shot one of my purple ones. The bow was designed to break with any other type of arrow than the green ones that it was made for.
My uncle walks over to me and I tell him what happened to the bow. He tosses it to the side for me with a disgusted, grossed out face, and tells me to climb over a wall into the next area. Out of curiosity I go over to the bow to see what was so gross about it, and see the string has turned into a soggy, mushy, finger-sized cord that feels like bread that’s so wet it’s nearly foam.
I climb over the wall into the next area, which is like a long, wide hall lit by light at the end. There’s a horse near the wide wall I jump over that’s been killed with four javelins. I start to run toward the light.
Now I’m in a house like the campground house, but it’s three times as large. Literally, the aspect ratio is just larger, or I am much smaller. Leon wants to run away, and I try to convince him not to go but he goes anyway. I find him on a trailer full of the stuff he was running away with. Dad’s there. Leon has no plans on stopping. [End]

Relative to Real Life~
Day of March 1st, 2015
Real-life characters: Uncle, Leon, Dad.
Dream-created characters: Other competitors, Aztec man target, horse.
Real-life places: Campground house.
Dream-created places: Arena, trailer.
Different than real life: I’ve never been in a life or death competition, I’ve never thrown a javelin, I haven’t seen Leon face to face in years.
Reasons:
Leon = I’ve been recording a lot of dreams from clear back in 2011, when Leon was a big part of my life. He was in many of my dreams then.
Reoccurring: No.
Precognitive: No experiences yet.

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