There were violins playing again. It was not the melody that had picked him up from off the ground in front of the shopping center. There was no melancholy. There was strength. Loudness. A faster tempo. But still, the minor key. Crescendos complete with cymbal crashes.
She was on a beach. He was with her there. They were looking at a small, intricate toy in the sand that looked like a bright pink castle. Only it wasn't a toy. It was real. How did he know this? He just did. In dreams you just know something, you quietly understand some things. It was a real and glorious castle, though small, so small, and fragile. And this was the hope of the world. The prize of the entire blue and green Earth. He didn't know how he knew this, but it was a dream. He just knew.
Then things quickly changed. The wind picked up. The sky turned from light blue to sulphury yellow. The blue of the water looked a sickly blue, nauseating almost, tainted and smeared with burnt orange. And a tsunami was growing in the distance. The two could see it, miles and miles away. It was a dream. They could do this.
Miles and miles away, the water was swelling and gathering. Making noise like people in pain, women in labor. But the most terrifying part was what this giant tsunami was made of: bodies. Misshapen humans. Malformed human body parts. There was a face in the water with a sea of flesh filling in the eye sockets. An arm with four joints. A hand with thirty fingers of different lengths. The water swelled and the perverted body parts tumbled over each other in the giant wave as it surged forward, toward Ishah and Headam.
They stood on the shore, backs to the tiny castle. It had now turned a light green for some reason, but was still glowing. The wave would destroy it and would of course destroy them as well. Shrieking, the wave pushed forward and grew even bigger, filled with even more grotesque bodies. Already it was twenty stories high. They craned their necks back to look at it.
And they were scared. Headam did not get scared. He had seen everything, every gory bloody human mess man can create, and had been trained not to respond. His heart rate wouldn't even rise a beat. But he was scared then. It was tall and supernatural. There was nothing in the world this large. They would be destroyed, torn to pieces, perhaps torn into deformed parts as well. And the hope of the world, the little castle, would be gone forever. Completely destroyed and irreplaceable. Ishah did not get scared either. There was nothing that could be done to her that would upset her. It was only her body. She felt her soul had vacated her long ago. But she was scared as well. It was so tall, so powerful, and so utterly disgusting. She was actually scared.
They grasped hands. Without looking at each other, still staring at the wave almost on top of them, they grasped hands. Tight. Squeezed. Felt desperation and salvation.
They decisively raised their outside hands up to the wave, a half a second away from crushing them and the castle. Palm forward, as if telling the wave, "Stop." Only they were not saying, "Stop," they were simply saying, "No." And that was all it took. Not wanting it. The will to say no to it.
The wave immediately, without a moment's hesitation, burst into thin spray, but not without an even more terrifying noise being made. It was painfully high and forcibly low. It was a perverted and bizarre concoction of human and non-human noises. But it could do nothing to them. They held hands and said "No." Their will stopped the monstrosity. There would be nothing they did not want. Everything they willed was possible.
As the noise disappeared, he looked over at Ishah. Her hair was flaming, like ripples down her back. She now wore a dress of sea blue and green, covered in pearls and shiny stones. Her skin seemed bright silver, lit from the inside so that light poured out of her joints, neck, and finger tips. Her body was filled with new muscles. Even her eyes flamed with strength. The music crescendoed, tightened his veins, swelled his chest, filled him with fierce bravery.
She turned just slightly to look at him, strength still pouring out of her fiery eyes. He had never seen a human until then. He had seen people but they were not this. They were not full human beings. They were slightly failed. They were not this awesome form in front of him. This was a human. This was nearly a goddess. They're right, he thought. We were created in the image of God.