(WP) Ragnarok Now

32(WP) Ragnarok Now

You must’ve drunk too much during D&D night last night because when you finally get to sleep, you’re bombarded by strange dreams.

**

You and your party are walking down a wooded path, toward a clearing bathed in moonlight.

You can’t understand what everyone is saying; their words are muted as if you’ve all been dunked underwater. Your steps are especially slow as if the lot of you are walking through syrup.

You hear words coming out of your own mouth, though you don’t even feel your lips move.

“Allfather, maker, and master of all that is, we come to you with heavy hearts. Your children, the gods, control our actions. We seek to wage war against them.”

The clearing goes dark as if the clouds are hiding the eye of the silver moon.

 At the center of it all, there are gravestones, but they waver in and out of sight, all emblazoned with your party’s names.

The ground begins to rumble, and then part, beneath your feet, ominous blue light seeping out of the fissures. Your friends fall into the cracks, sealing them on the inside of the earth.

**

You wake up in a cold sweat, the ghost of the invocation still hovering on your lips. Your clothes stick to you, and your mouth feels like sand. You throw the sheet off of you and go to the kitchen, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re so rattled you don’t pay attention to how hard you’re walking. You get a glass of water from the tap and gulp it down, but the relief is temporary.

What are your friends going to say when you call them later, telling them that their weekly D&D session is canceled? You try to tell yourself that it was nothing but a dream, brought on by exhaustion and too much alcohol. But there was something about that ritual that felt real, and you can’t shake off your fear, no matter how many glasses of water you drink or breathing exercises you try.

You look at the digital clock on the microwave, squinting to see the numbers correctly. 3:52. It’s almost four o’clock in the morning, there’s no way that you can call your friends now. You force yourself to go back to bed, deciding to send a group text in the morning. You can get everyone together at breakfast and explain yourself then.

**

Morning dawns and everyone agrees to meet at the local diner a few blocks away. You still can’t shake the idea that the dream you had was not, in fact, a dream, but a vision. It has sat in your bones heavily, and you wait until everyone has gotten their meals to speak.

“I’m sorry, guys, but D&D has been canceled from now on,” you say, buying yourself some time by shoving a piece of bacon in your mouth.

Five different faces look up at you, blank with shock. Then they all speak at once.

“What? Why?!” “Oh, come on, Brayden, you can’t do that!” “I’ve been looking forward to it! Why are you doing this?”

“I had a dream that we were about to start Ragnarok and we all died. It was real. I saw your bodies disappear, the gravestones. I saw it all happen. I’m not risking your lives for a roleplaying game!”

**