Famer's Story-writing debate tournament Round#3 TUF VS LANNAN13

I apologize about last round. I was having HTML difficulties. Did the round on a Google docs, and it wouldn't copy and paste right over into DDO from my laptop at work. The text had a bunch of weird codes. I provided a link so I could just edit it when I get home, from my personal computer, but unfortunately Lannan was a bit overeager and posted his response pretty fast. I am not going to lie though, I don't completely understand what Lannan's mind set was on this story. It's hard to carry on a plot anymore, as it's been completely destroyed and re-oriented. No offense but Hitler and bunch of goon robots? That doesn't even make sense, or is possible. I was really hoping this debate wasn't going to be messed up like that. I figured I could probably salvage it, but after last round, I don't even know what to do.He's completely changed the concept of frozen time, to defeating Some long dead german dude who mysteriously got robots somehow to aid him in some unknown plan to conquer an already conquered world. Then his dead ghost girlfriend somehow gives him a magic sword of light? No offense but this is definitely the worst story debate I have ever done. Not to mention I can barely understand half of the incoherent grammar that has come from my opponent. Anyways, I'll do the best I can to fix this, and hope my opponent will try to refrain from butchering this story any more in the future rounds.Chapter 2: DreamsI woke up, feeling well rested, but also feeling lazy, as if I had over slept. I naturally checked my alarm clock, before remembering that it didn't work; It would never work again.I wanted to laugh. That was the funniest dream I had ever had. I also felt a little bit of despair at seeing my wife again. God I missed her. I had always been of the philosophy that dreams meant something... More than we tried to give them credit for.But what did this dream represent? What did Hitler represent? Here in the dead time I had no enemies, but that's who the Nazi represented.Then I realized.... It was me. Hitler was supposed to represent me. How often had I killed people everyday, in my own way? Before the dead time, I was closed off. Shut down from the rest of the world. I never acknowledged anyone, never smiled, stopped loving, caring, about anything. Nothing was important to me anymore.People tried to reach out to me. I never even gave them a chance. No one could understand the pain I felt, no one could help me. I had judged them, and deprived them of ever having the ability to reach out to me. In a way, I had done the same thing as Hitler. And the robots in my dream, what about them? In many ways I represented myself, just life a robot. Carrying on, just working, burying myself in something so I could try and forget what life had done to me. Just like the robot, I was emotionless, and automatic. And just like what the robot did to me, I beat myself up every day, mentally for what happened. Always somehow feeling like I was responsible.I wiped away a tear, and got up getting my bearings. Where was I? Oh yeah, I remembered now. I was in the pharmacy. I must have passed out.I instantly became weary, remembering the light and the movement. I looked over to the door, but the light was gone. I cautiously walked over to the door, and opened it, raising my golf club up to defend my self if need be. The I opened the door and let out a war cry as I charged right in to.... Nothing! Absolutely nothing was on the other side of the door. I was so shocked. Maybe I had imagined the light... No, I couldn't have.I ran outside to see the there was no longer the red paint on the door with my name. Maybe that was just part of my dream too. I was going crazy here. I planted my face in my palms irritatingly, and started to walk away. Maybe I should just kill myself. Maybe leaping off a building was the only escape from this dead world.Then I saw it, one single drop of red paint on the ground... What the-?I looked back at the door. It had been wiped. I could see a single swipe and a bit of moisture still clinging to the door. Clever devil, almost had me fooled. Someone or something is messing with me.I looked down the street, at the building, towards alley ways, there was nothing.I felt angry.Then I shouted at the top of my lungs."WHERE ARE YOU!? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" My voice echoed down the empty city of Oklahoma for a few minutes, but there was no return answer. Then I noticed something, a weird bump in my pocket. That wasn't there before.I pulled it out, to see a crumpled picture of my wife. But that didn't make sense... I lost this years ago. I looked on the back, to see the numbers 717 etched in the same red paint. What did 717 mean? Who was doing this? What were they trying to tell me?Then I saw a shadow move quickly across the street. It was fast, and it was about 50 meters away from my position. "Hey stop! Come back!" I yelled. Whatever it was didn't comply, and quickly dis-appeared behind an alley way. I tried to follow, but realized I had lost him.I sank to my knees defeated.