You will wake from a nightmare, sitting bolt upright in bed and screaming into the cold, dark air. You will not remember the dream, or why it make you scream, but the realized fear will linger, longing for an unrealized memory. If you sleep next to a loved one, they will question you, gently. You will not be able to articulate it with words. They will insist it was nothing, that you should return to sleep. They will think otherwise. You will not realize this, and assume you are alone in your confusion and fear for a future undetermined. The face from the closet will grin, quietly rolling a fat gold coin over its spidery fingers. A coin you would recognize. A coin from your dream. A coin the smiling face offered to you.
"Heads, or tails?" It asked, in a voice that was not human, not reptilian, not in your ears but in your mind.
"Why?" Your dream-self asked. It did not know the stakes, though you were aware there were stakes. And they were high, indeed.
The smiling face flipped the coin. End over end it turned in the air, glinting in pitch dark light. "Call it."
In a panic you respond, "Tails, no heads!" Too late. The coin had already landed on heads and you had merely called what you had seen.
The grinning face plucked up the coin. "Too bad," it said. "But you didn't really need this, did you?"
You scream, silent in your dream but audible in the waking world, as he reached into your chest and pulled-
Absently you rub your chest, unable to know why. The grinning man is no longer in the closet, but you did not know this. You attempt to withdraw, seeking the solitude and comfort of unconsciousness, even as you are vaguely aware that dreams are not a safe place.
When the sun rises, you check the Wyrd forums. Someone is responding to your question about when you will know if you get to participate. He does not answer your question.
You rub your chest.
The grinning face hits SEND