All Saturday evening, Simon had put off an important task. This important task was the reason we were all there that night, but we ended up just talking the night away. [Now, the "me" in the dream knew what that task was, but I, as the dreamer, didn't. It's weird, I know.]

Anyway, the task didn't get done that night like it was supposed to. When we all got up late the next morning, I started arguing with Simon because I had to leave within a few hours. We had to get it done now!

He still wouldn't answer me. He just paced nervously and bit at his fingers.

My part of the job was to bring a certain item, which I pulled out of its case to encourage him. It was a curved shirasaya with a midnight blue and dark red handle. [A Japanese sword. It's strange because I am definitely not one of these people who are into all the Japanese stuff these days.] He was reluctant to take it from me.

It was then that I finally knew what the dream version of me knew: I was to bring Simon the shirasaya to use to behead his father, the Dungeon Master. Doing this would somehow empower the sword for some purpose. Then Leeta would take the sword and do... something with it. Her part was never clear to me. Maybe I wasn't suppose to know.

Simon finally took the shiny shirasaya and went into another room to get Dungeon Master.

Dungeon Master didn't resist, but I remember him looking at me with such a sad face. It was like he understood why we felt we had to do this, and felt no malice toward us. It was hard to tell if he was going to his death entirely voluntarily. I knew he didn't want to die, and it was worse that it was his own son who was about to kill him. I regretted what was about to happen, but knew it had to be done.

Simon took him down a hallway. He came back a few moments later with a bloody blade. He gave it to Leeta. She looked at it and started to go down the hallway to see the body. I had to physically stop her. She was jumpy enough as it was; she didn't need to see a head severed from its body, all in a pool of blood.

The reason Simon put it off and Leeta was so jumpy was simply because murder is illegal and we didn't want to be caught and sent to jail. I was the least paranoid because I reminded myself that only a couple of people besides the three of us had ever even seen Dungeon Master. I remember thinking that it wasn't as if he had a driver's license or social security card or anything -- in other words, no one knew he existed to know he was gone. So I felt we were in the clear. The only problem I had with the whole thing was that Leeta and I had to leave Simon to dispose of the body himself. We had to be in other places and just couldn't stay to see that part through. With the state of mind Simon had been in, I didn't know if we could trust him not to leave evidence behind. What if someone came looking for some reason? But I decided it was just the paranoia talking. Still, I wished we had all gotten it taken care of the night before.

I remember sitting at a table in a diner the next day. There was a drink in front of me. The walls were glass and I could see that it was very cloudy outside, like it might rain any minute. Leeta was sitting to my right. She wasn't holding up very well. She looked like she could have a breakdown at any time, but I somehow knew she wouldn't. She was strong enough.

I was more interested in how I was dealing with it. I thought I was too calm, too OK with it all. We did what had to be done. No one knew. But it was hard to sit there not knowing what Simon had done with the body. There was no way to get in contact with him for a while. I'd have to wait to hear how he'd handled it.