The Electric Field.

I am in a field. Waiting. I struggle to remember what I am waiting for as I stand utterly alone in this field filled with a million flowers I have never seen before.
There stems are of a brilliant blue, so alive they seem to spark with electricity. The flower is - in total contrast - a somber yellow, the petals rimmed with an almost see through grey.
As I stare at this field of mystery I remember.
He stands in front of me. Ten feet tall and six wide. A man made almost entirely of muscle and sinew. Built to single handedly crush battalions of fire breathing men from the depths of hell. He opens his mouth to speak and as his gaping mouth reaches its full gate and I prepare to shield myself from his molten words his massive frame suddenly crumbles, showering the ground with a billion fragments of a fading nightmare.
As the dust settles and I gather my thoughts a figure starts to float through the dust. A figure much smaller than the last. Something small but still filled with a sense of menace.
I hold my breath and pray for something - I don't know what - to happen. It does. The figure now before me is dull and lifeless yet somehow hovering there before me. Its body a mess of brown and bile coloured matted hair with black, pulsing boils that look as though they're reaching out, feeling for a new victim. Something with fresh skin to feed on. The face barely sits atop the body as it lolls from side to side producing a sickening, crunching sound on every rotation. The face has no features. A vast open nothingness, no mouth to express its thoughts and feelings or eyes to see the horror upon my face - a blessing I'm sure.
We both stand facing each other, not breathing. I want to get away, I want to run.
As I start to put this plan into action the beast senses my intentions and starts a movement of his own, toward me. A deep, terrifying fear locks me to the ground. I stare down at my dumbstruck feet, plead with them to save me from this peril - no response. I close my eyes and scream aloud for something to save me and with my eyes still closed I realise something undeniable.
It's standing right in front of me.
With eyes clamped shut I realise I have regained the use of my feet. Maybe the darkness has provided a clarity I didn't possess before. Maybe, just maybe, I can save myself.
As I stand erect, in this field in my head, I can feel the hot, sticky breathe of the beast as it waits for its reward. I can feel its mind clawing at my thoughts trying desperately to force me to open my eyes and confront my fears. And then I realise that that's exactly what I need to do. I may be able to run but the beast will always be there. My eyes a tool far greater than my feet to conquer this terror.
Sucking in a long, deep breathe I tell myself to raise the lids of my eyes and battle this beast right here in this field. Stand forth and face that which is right here in front of you!
Open.
I am a thousand feet in the air looking down on the field I was standing in but a moment ago, the beast a speck of oil against a sea of yellow and blue. A bitter chill dances on my skin as my eyes start to water and I think to myself, "how did I get up here". . .