Up until now, the images I've been seeing have been brief and disconnected, like a collage, but this last dream was different. It was a full, coherent vision - if it a bit abstract.
In it, I saw violet fingers clawing at bedrock, knuckle deep in soil. They reached further, stretching, splitting and spreading like a web as stone crumbled beneath them, until at last they found a molten heart, its cadence soft and steady. Without pity, they grasped it in their twisting tendrils and squeezed. The heart's rhythm slowed, then stopped altogether, and at last it turned to cold, lifeless stone.
As the heart died, strings of shadow shot from the violet fingers. I traced the them across cracked and drying flesh, and when the strands ended I saw it - an army of monstrous shadows, hunting for even the smallest glimmer of light. And they were marching right towards me.