I had a dream last night. It's already fading and I want to get it written down before I forget it. Normally, I wouldnt' bother. My dreams are usually about my parents, my childhood, girls, or Tarkov. Most of them are about Tarkov, and this one is no different.
I dreamt there was something I had to do for Prapor, and I was moving with urgency, upset perhaps. I hurriedly grabbed an armored vest, pushed a grenade in my pocket, and picked up a hunting rifle that I had recently modified with a huge suppressor. I had four magazines for that rifle, but could only find three. No time. I jammed them into my vest and ran out. And then in the dream I was fighting some BEAR operative, but the damn rifle was too long and unwieldy. I dropped it and rushed him pulling out a little submachine gun I had tucked into my vest. As I ran up to him I began firing, but too soon. The rounds, they emptied into the sandbags he was crouched behind and I brought the SMG up to his face but it was empty - the magazine spent. I couldn't see his face, it was dark, but I could look down the barrel of his weapon, I could see his finger right in front of me, squeezing the trigger. And that's the dream, the nightmare. Just recounting it makes my heart pound.
It's obviously a dream - if it weren't a dream I wouldn't be here writing this down. But here's the thing, that rifle - that's a real rifle I scrounged, fixed up and modified. That rifle, it's gone. It's not here. But I know I didn't imagine it, I remember it, and I found the fourth magazine, behind my workbench. What the hell is going on?
I need to get out of Tarkov.
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