Corutix, The Void-Touched

I stand on some kind of dark, desolate desert plain
At least it looks like desert
The wind is howling in my ears
But not to the point where I can't hear anything else
It doesn't move anything
I don't feel it against my face
Nor does it move anything on the ground
I can only hear it

The ground doesn't feel like any kind of dirt or sand
It has an odd sludge quality to it
As though you were stepping in molasses
But if you try to pick any of it up, it looks
And slips through your fingers, like sand

There is nothing to be seen for miles and miles
All the way to the horizon, so I start walking
The direction is always different
But somehow I always end up at the same place
What looks like an abandoned and extremely dilapidated church
With half of the roof caved in, broken windows, et cetera

An extreme feeling of unease comes over me
One that would make me double over in the real world
In this dream, however, I remain standing
And walk through where the doors should be, into the church
The pews have rotted into mulch
And the stone walls and floor have either almost completely fallen apart
Or it's extremely worn from age

I walk straight up to where an altar would be
However, in it's place there is nothing
Except an ancient scroll of some kind sitting on a raised stone slab
It is here that the whispers begin
I can never make anything they say out
And to be honest I'm not even sure they're speaking English

The uneasy feeling worsens as I step up to the scroll
And begin to open it
The whispers are louder, but I endure