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You find yourself in the woods, you cannot see where these woods are located but they feel familiar. As if you have seen each of these trees dozens of times and this place of familiarity should bring you peace. But it does not, there is an air of alienness as if something has intruded into your space, a creeping palling sensation that leaves you with a feeling of creeping crawling icy chill that plays up and down your spine like a spider climbing its way along your skin. The feeling is wrong in every way and nearly unbearable. You claw at it, but it only becomes worse, growing from an itch into an icy burn and just as it almost becomes too much as it seems to threaten to ooze its way over your scalp, behind your eyes and into your skull it suddenly stops. Not gone, still there like a wrapper of wet paper that clings to not your flesh but to your very soul. It makes moving hard, freezing you in place making your body painfully unable to feel or move. A cacophony of phantom pain that hovers over you, into you. And then suddenly the entirely world seems to shift, but you realize it is not the world, but you who are being moved, you are being moved like marionette each limb being pulled shift and directed in a twisted parody of movement. You are being guide through the woods faster and faster and faster the trees begin to blur past you until you see the woods begin to thin and the ahead of you the glimmer of water and the call of something old. Something ancient. You know in your heart that the song that it sings if you fall into that water will pull you into its choir and hold you there forever. But before you are made to move one step closer to the water there is yank on the invisible strings that have been the chords leading to your doom. A sharp pull that yanks you back and away from the abyss ahead of you and back towards blessed land. The yank pulls again this time dragging you on the ground and you feel that wet shedding carapace pull along the essence of you being drawn out as you are moved. As it moves along your body you regain sensation where it has been peeled away. And you can see a dark mist (or perhaps a fog) being pulled out of you. The more that leaves you the more you see it makes out a vaguely humanoid shape, and it is being drawn in back to the woods and a waiting blue light. As you draw closer to it, being pulled back along the ground at a ever growing speed you begin to make more and more the shape of the light and the figure that holds it. When the mewling, scrabbling thing is finally pulled fully from you, you see the tendrils of it being drawn in like a vacuum pulling it into a lantern. As it gets pulled in the light grows brighter and brighter and brighter until the thing is swallowed up entirely inside of it and you are left on the ground, no longer painfully numb but too weak to stand or run. The figure holding the lantern is shrouded in darkness like a cloak and it tilts its head at you as you hear the a woman's voice whisper first with the softness of a gentle breeze but with a power that quickly grows until it has all the crushing weight of a tidal wave crashing down onto you. "Wake Up!" And you do, in a cold sweat and a fire like thirst in your throat. With but the faintest hint of some kind of faint tune lingering in the back of your mind that you can't quite seem to grasp ahold of.