::@:: Reality of Dreams ::@::

The following is the start to a short story I am writing… and may continue… comments etc are welcome

Darkness can be such a strange thing, in our youth it gives rise to the fears of the evil creatures, in our adult hood it becomes out fears and dreads, in our final years it becomes the unknown future, the veil that divides the worlds. I find myself in darkness, I can feel no ground, no air, no light. I have finally persuaded myself that my eyes are open and still functioning yet the darkness is so powerful here I cannot see the anything, not even myself, or any part of me.

As the small rays of hope within, and even the fears, begin to die to cold ember, I am left in the limbo, stuck in that somewhere that is nowhere. Just as the madness builds to its consuming crescendo a blinding light pierces the now almost comfortable darkness, suddenly everything illuminates and I am freed. My mother stands over me, my quilt in her hands, she is telling me off for ruining her nicely made guest bed, I hug her, my saviour, my rescuer. As she reaches down to pick me from the floor I wake up with a jolt, the city outside illuminates the star less night sky which mutated shades of red, green, and blues, a cold sweat runs down my back. I’m alone, very much alone.

Come the morning I feel as if I have never slept. The dreams have been getting more intense, more abstract, my doctor tried medication and that only resulted in me being admitted to the hospital for three nights stuck in some nightmare that I am glad I cannot recall. I have tried meditation, natural remedies, counselling, tai-chi, alternative therapies, and even religion. Nothing has worked, some seemed to work but only resulted in worse nights than before, and others had no effect. One doctor said it was al related to some trauma I suffered, as a child but could not, or rather would not, say what his theory was leading him to. I had a girlfriend, we were so much in love, but what with the violent movements that occurred in my episodes and my slow withdrawal and frantic search for a cure we grew apart, we still talk, were still friends, its just, well, I’m alone now.

Thankfully, in some ways, I work for myself. I sit alone in my office, my computer gently humming, a net-radio station burbling some chill out noise, which blends itself into the sound-scape from the city beneath. The disadvantages which normally come with living where you work have long since evaporated even long before these dreams began. In some ways it helped my creativity and designs to be where I felt most comfortable, most at home. Since the dreams however it became a different sort of muse, it allowed me to channel the emotional chaos that ad become my life into my works. Ironically my work has never sold, at least until my life started to turn to raging flash flood river of pain and despair. Listen to me, I’m sounding like one of those self-obsessed neo-Goths. I can’t help it though, I just wish I had some answers. For now, I’ll immerse myself and release myself through my work. I pick up the stylus, brushing off the non-existent dust in the same ritualistic way I have done since I was a student at college and started to paint.

A good number of hours, and many various sources of caffeine, later I stand back and look at my computers display the digital artwork glowing slightly from the large high definition screen. It was then I saw it. I looked closer at the swirling coloured myriad of synthesised oil paint brush strokes and clean computer generated ink strokes, slowly I could see a form in amongst the jungle of strokes and dark hues of purple, red. A solitary female figure, rough, unintended, yet unmistakable. Her hair formed from a single stroke of purple, her figure the creation of the intersection of various lines and colours. Surely just an accident i thought, but as I put it on the site as a new creation for sale, I looked at the others I had recently created, in everyone, somewhere and in some form was this silhouetted female.

As I pondered this anomaly my phone rang, my friends where heading to a pub for a meal and a few drinks. I decided that I would join them, I had cut back on the number of time I went out since this all started nine months ago but I knew better than to sever all the ties to my friends. Yet, all the way to the pub all I could see was this female, I couldn’t place her, perhaps it was just my yearning to be together with Louise again.

The night was fun, Louise was there, radiant as always, we chatted a bit, but things were still a bit off between us, but usually only when we were with other people. We had food, a few drinks, exchanged news and views and even laughed at quite a lot. I hadn’t felt this relaxed in many months. It felt good, but deep down I knew it wouldn’t last.

I was right, that night the dreams where worse than ever. I was again in the darkness but this time I knew I wasn’t floating but rather standing in a room, and that she was ahead of me. She, how did I know that they were a “she”? I was walking towards her, the ground hard, and almost metallic. As I got closer I heard her voice, her voice was more beautiful than the most passionate aria, stiller than a lake at moon rise. “Alan, why do you deny me, free me, free us, free us all.” Suddenly, the walls within my mind started to fall, and it began to come back to me. I knew that in this dream, in this realm, I now stood before her, as I looked a sudden flash of light illuminated between us. I saw her. Her beauty hurt, the perfection of her, crushed my very spirit.

Abruptly I found myself awake in my room, again alone and shivering, but this time it was different, I knew. I knew who she was, what she was. It was many years ago when I was but a teenager, I killed her, I had to. I was a stupid boy and I was playing with forces I did not comprehend, she had to be stopped, I had to do it, but I thought she was to be destroyed, but now she was back. It began to make sense and yet raised many more questions than it would ever answer. At last I believed I knew the truth, I was not alone, in no way was I alone. She was here, and she wants it all. I had convinced myself over the years she was a fantasy, a made up tale, she never really existed and so I buried it all deep in my mind so I’d never be confronted with what I had done. Now that luxury was gone, the memories had been brought back, there was no hiding, I was no longer alone.

In the kitchen I could hear the sound of the glass cabinet doors smashing, I could just see the mirror in the bathroom buckling, warping and breaking. Then came a sound I had long since thought I had forgotten the sound of their sharpened claws on floorboards. They were here and I didn’t have long.

I chucked on my jeans and jacket that I had unceremoniously dumped on the floor. The noises were growing louder, more pronounced and more real. I ran from the room, the scarping noises coming from all around me, I could see the wallpaper ripping as an unseen predator moved across the walls, its invisible claws sinking deep through the stone wall. My keys were lying on the table beside the door along with my mobile and various other gadgets and stuff I carried wherever I went. I stopped to stuff my pockets with them. On the wall a shadow materialised, gaining density and form. As I fumbled with my the door I could feel the hot, sulphurous breath of the creature behind me. I dared not look and flung open the door slamming it behind me not caring how late it was. I ran, I kept on running, down the stairs, and out the building. I stopped, foolishly, to look behind me, I gazed upwards to the window of my flat, in the shadows I could see her, looking at me, looking through and into me.

With all of my will I pulled my eyes away from her dark and still translucent form and again ran. I realised quickly that I had forgotten to put any shoes on and the pavement was cold and wet. I could not think, I had to run, I needed time to figure it all out, remember who she was, why she wanted me, why I had killed her. I knew there was a homeless shelter a mile or so away so I headed there, not an ideal place I thought but it should be safe enough. At least I hoped it would be.

I arrived at the shelters doors which were shut, I rang the buzzer and a man asked who I was and what I wanted, I explained I had suddenly found myself homeless and needed somewhere to crash for one night. The door clicked open, as multitudes of bolts were unlocked. The man was a burly, rather overweight individual with various tattoos up his arms and what looked like heavy scaring across with partly bared chest. He said I didn’t look homeless and I again explained it was a temporary problem and one I couldn’t solve until tomorrow, after some discussion he let me in telling me that breakfast was at 7.30am and I needed to leave by 9am.

As I was thanking him, I noticed that behind him was a glass covered notice board that contained various notices about support groups, drug workers, advice services. The glass shimmered slightly and started to melt, buckle and deform, and suddenly shattered. The man spun round instinctively only to be greeted by an unseen claw eviscerating him. As he feel to the ground screaming in agony the blood the creature began to become increasingly solid. Over the screaming of this unfortunate victim I could here more glass breaking inside the shelter followed by more screams and the sound of tearing flesh and fabric.

The creature in front of me, stared me straight at me, it sleek, chitin body glinting in the yellowish glow of the single light bulb lighting the entrance vestibule. Its claws, black as obsidian and just as glassy sank into the ground, their sharpness only outdone by the glistening teeth. It had been a long time since these creatures, which I had relegated to imaginations of horrific nightmares, rather than real, deadly, assailants. Its four slender legs slowly moved towards me. Its long snake like tail slowly swaying, its six black eyes staring at me seemed to be wreathed in black flame, its panther like maw was blood splattered from the kill.

A homeless man burst through the doors screaming, his clothes torn, his back bleeding and his eyes empty and hollow. He had seen them, seen them feast, flesh was a mere aperitif to the real feast. He ran straight into the waiting jaws of the creature before me, I took the opportunity and ran. I could hear the dying screams of the poor man echoing through the streets, the sound of his body being torn open and feasted upon.

A few moments later a police car sped by me I wanted to warn them but I knew they would not believe me, or worse I would get the blame, and that would seal my fate. I could only hope that either the creatures would have gone or that the police would be able to stop them. Deep down I knew this to be a false hope and that nothing human would stop them once they were sent out by their mistress. Who was she, why did I know her, what did I know, why did I kill her? Why would I do such a thing? I began to remember more, the final blow, the one that crushed her skull and as she died, her blood staining my clothes and covering my face, she said something in her dying breath, what did she say? Who was she?

I had been running for what seemed like an eternity, I found myself in familiar surroundings, Louise’s house. No, I shouldn’t have come here, it’s not right, why did I come here? Screams echoed from the house, I suddenly lost my fear and charged the door to see Louise standing over the mutilated body of her housemates, her dressing gown torn and one of the creatures pacing towards her. She didn’t see me, her entire focus was on the creature and the horror in front of her. I grabbed her arm pulling her towards me, I held her tight to me as I turned and fled. She wasn’t running fast enough so I picked her up, carrying her away from the carnage. More screams from more houses. Soon they would be able to follow me away from the mirrors, away from their power. Why was the mirror so important?

Louise suddenly realised what was happening and started screaming at me to let her go, her mind was racing in circles, she was trying to rationalise seeing her friends being torn apart by a creature which broke its way from a mirror and seemed to form itself from the shadows. She failed, it was getting too much, she demanded to know what I was doing at her house. I told her I didn’t know I just found myself there. I dared not tell her that these creatures were after me, not just now, not yet. Not until I knew more.

She abruptly stopped yelling at me; her face drained of colour, and became rigid with fear. I looked behind me to see what had stopped her. The creatures stood in the streets their claws and teeth dripping with fresh blood, behind them however were her friends, the homeless people, and the man from the centre and other who I did not recognise. Their clothes were torn and bloodied, their bodies however looked, healed and restored, except that they walked as if on marionette strings controlled by some unseen puppeteer. Their faces were for the most part blank and expressionless, their eyes, however, still seemed to be staring into oblivion us at some unseen horror.

… TBC? …