Last night I had a strange dream, the first really good dream that I’ve had since I started getting insomnia. I’m not exactly sure how it started, for everything before I ended up on the bridge was nothing but a hazy blur. Like first waking from surgery, the world slowly rippled into clarity.

 

I stood in the middle of a large bridge that had a heavy tarp drawn over it. The tarp was to protect everything outside the bridge while it was being sanded and painted. I wasn’t alone. There was an African-American man there, the same age as me. We were arguing. I knew that we weren’t human, not anymore. I knew that without anyone telling me.

 

I knew that we were genetically altered, and now possessed the ability to shape-shift from human to Godzilla-like creatures. The purpose? To battle other Godzilla-like creatures in order to protect our country from them.

 

“I’m not doing it!” I told the man with me. “We don’t have to do it. We didn’t ask for this! They didn’t give us a choice!”

 

He frowned. “No, they didn’t. But, if we don’t do this then our country could come under attack by that thing.”

 

“Everyone before us died and they didn’t even find their bodies! It hasn’t attacked us yet! We don’t have to do this. I’m not doing it. I’m not going to change.”

 

“But, we have to,” he replied, already resigned to his fate.

 

“Have you seen that thing? It’s twice our size and different from all the ones that came before. And I don’t understand why they have to keep score! What does it matter if we fight well or not? Isn’t the objective to kill it? Why do they want us to do it stylishly? What’s with the freaking score card!” I paced back and forth, arms folded. In the distance I knew the creature was coming, but because of the tarp over the bridge I could not see it.

 

“I’m not doing it,” I told him again. “I’m not.”

 

The man nodded. “Okay. I won’t either.”

 

The creature lifted the bridge and began to carry it down the bay. We stood on the bridge, beneath the tarp, until the creature deposited the bridge gently far from our original location. Everything got very quiet and my partner went to investigate.

 

“You should come here,” he said. But, I’d wrapped myself in a blanket and drawn it over my head and I was refusing to go anywhere.

 

“Really,” he urged after I didn’t budge. “You need to see this!”

 

I shrugged the blanket off and followed him out. There, leaning against a cave wall was Alan Rickman. Not just any Alan Rickman, but Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves Alan Rickman. Of course, he wasn’t playing Alan Rickman. It was a character in my dream that my subconscious had decided to dress as him.

 

For now, I’ll just refer to him as Alan, because neither my partner nor his character had names. Alan told us a hefty tale of government corruption. You see, there were no wars anymore. But, countries still needed a way to decide who won arguments. So, they developed a secret game. They took people and genetically altered them to transform them into monsters so they could battle it out. The countries placed bets on the fight, which was the purpose of keeping score. Even if a country’s fighter lost, if they made a good show of it, the country could still win. Alan had been one of England’s fighters. After winning the match he found out the truth.

 

Alan showed us around his hideout, which was pretty technically advanced. We met a lot of people who had been genetically altered into monsters for the sake of sport. Alan was collecting them, posing as a country’s fighter in order to enter a match. He’d beat the people to a pulp, as it was unfortunately the only way he could get them to cooperate. Then, he would take them back to his lair and explain what was happening to them. Alan was building an army of genetically altered humans and he was planning to use them to wage a war on the countries that had started it, to teach them a lesson about forcing people into the  gladiatorial sport of giant lizard battles.

 

I’m not sure how much time we spent in Alan’s stronghold. Time is always fuzzy in a dream. It seemed to move fast and we were there for a while. At least, long enough for me to stumble upon our savior’s dark secret. He was doing experiments on female Battle Lizards, like myself, to determine whether or not the genetic mutations would transfer to offspring. He’d decided that our group was the next step in human evolution. Since we could not go back, we could only go forward.  He wasn’t just planning on teaching the countries who created the games a lesson, he was planning to conquer them and build a world full of altered humans. He was going to be their king.

I Am Gojira
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