I stumbled hard as I ran, breath ragged, heart thumping in panic. Behind me came a thunderous sound—a chorus of growls, paws hammering the ground. Not one, not ten, but hundreds of Rottweilers were chasing me like a legion of beasts released straight from hell.
I didn’t know where I was. The place felt like a dark, endless labyrinth. Was this a dream? It felt all too real. My chest tightened, my legs burned, but I kept running—desperately searching for a way out from this swarm of fangs and fury.
They wouldn’t stop. Their barks rang like war drums, shaking the very air. Whose dogs were these? Why were they chasing me, as if I had trespassed into a world I shouldn’t belong?
I zigzagged through narrow alleys, hoping to lose them. But how could a man outrun a pack of trained predators? Still, this was a dream—where the impossible could happen. I wished I could fly, soar like Superman... but this dream had no wings for me. Only panic.
Soon, I found myself cornered at the end of a dead-end alley. Hundreds of snarling dogs formed a circle around me. Their teeth gleamed under dim light, saliva dripping in hunger. I imagined those jaws ripping through my flesh, breaking bone, tearing muscle.
And then... something inside me snapped.
Fear transformed into fury.
A growl rose from within my chest—raw and primal. I stood my ground and roared, louder than I thought possible:"COME ON! ALL OF YOU, COME AT ME!"
My voice echoed like thunder, vibrating through the narrow alley.
One of them leapt. Its wet fangs glistened mid-air, just inches from my leg. But I moved first—my right foot shot up, slamming with all my strength into its snout. The beast was knocked back a full meter... and then it did something unexpected:
It lowered its head. Submissive.
It wasn’t dead. It was yielding.
I took a step forward, scanning the others. They still stood, frozen. I bellowed once more, even louder:"WHO ELSE DARES? YOU’RE HUNDREDS—FIGHT ME!"
And just like that, they all lowered themselves.
One by one, the Rottweilers bowed. Their heads touched the ground, like warriors kneeling before their conqueror.
I stood in the center of this silent army of beasts, no longer prey—but their king.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness.
Massive. Bare-chested. A heavy chain around his neck, with a pendant bearing the face of a Rottweiler. In his hand, a sharp army knife gleamed menacingly.
His eyes glowed with hatred. He snarled,"What have you done to my dogs?!"
Then he charged.
The knife slashed through the air toward my stomach—but I caught his wrist mid-strike, redirected his momentum down, then spun it upward. Off balance, he stumbled. I pulled his arm high, twisted, and slammed him to the ground.
The knife flew from his hand.
Without hesitation, I seized the blade—and plunged it into his stomach.
A cry of agony burst from his throat, shaking the fabric of the dream itself. The world trembled. The dogs and the man began to fade—like mist under morning light.
And then, everything vanished into blinding white.
I opened my eyes.
Covered in sweat. Gasping for air. Alone.
**It was only a dream.**But my heart still beat like war drums.And in that moment, I wasn't sure who I'd become inside that dream...
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