Once again, I have to fight through my own mind to get to the asylum. Prior to that, I'm twelve years old, sitting at a desk in a classroom, working on an in-class assignment that of all things involves counting, organizing, and cleaning a box full of my own shoes. At first, I totally lose myself in the assignment, performing the requirements to the exact specifications given on the instruction sheet. I'm doing this, and thinking about how, when I was a little girl, I used to gather everyone's shoes in the house and clean and polish them when I was stressed. I've never understood why that makes me feel better. It just does.
Suddenly, I realize I'm a little girl, thinking about when I was a little girl. This is a distraction. I need to talk to the "doctor." I'm probably using this to keep from confronting things I'm afraid to see.
As the thought occurs to me, the shoes begin to fade away. The desk I'm in becomes softer, and then the top of it disappears. I'm sitting in that chair in the room I'm staying in at the asylum. He's sitting across from me, and seems to be studying my face. He looks doubtful and a little worried. I feel like he doesn't think I can handle this. I don't feel like I can, either, but I know that if I don't, bad things are going to happen.
The wedding album sits on the table. Other books are there, but I don't think they'll work the way it did. At least, I hope not. There is still a deep, throbbing ache in my chest from learning from that book.
He tells me I should not try to do this so quickly, that I should rest a little. The petite lady/nurse comes around from behind me and brings me a huge cappuccino mug. It smells like there's hot chocolate in it, and when I look, I see marshmallows floating on top. I'm grateful for the concern, but I feel so impatient, and I'm overwhelmingly annoyed at the suggestion of a delay. Yes, it hurts... a lot, actually... but being kept in the dark drives me nuts. Also, it hurts to not know why, after clinging so hard, and trying so hard to not let go, she would turn against me like this.
I tell him I have to know at least that - why is she working with him? I want to know what he's trying to do, what he wants, and what he is, too, but right now I need to know why she is cooperating with him. Why, after working so hard to protect me, would she try to make me vulnerable to someone so obviously harmful and evil? Somehow, thinking about that hurts more than the memories brought back by the book.
He looks like he's trying to figure out what to say. He looks exasperated, too. Three times, he opens his mouth and shuts it again. Finally, he says, "You have to understand, she doesn't see what you do. She sees only what he presents to her, and she knows only what he feeds her."
I don't understand. Is the doc telling me that she could be so easily conned? I can't believe that. My confusion must show on my face, because he shakes his head. "It's not a simple thing. He's using her pain, twisting her emotions. He's not like a whole being - it's like he's made of lies and deception. He doesn't just hide the truth. He banishes it. If he can, he destroys it."
I have an overwhelming sense of deja vu right now. Huge. It feels like I'm being pulled at by that sense. I feel dizzy, and for a moment I close my eyes. When I open them, I'm in the meeting hall where the men dragged in the corpse of the monster.
There are thirteen of us here. We're arguing about what to do. My lady looks horrified, but determined. I feel the same way. We had them beaten, pushed back to where they had broken through, until it came along. It seems to have rallied them, and organized them into something we aren't equipped to confront. We've never seen anything like it, this towering, heaving mass of darkness. I am of the opinion that there's someone inside the dark, hidden, and that is our enemy. One of my allies, traveled here from the outside, thinks otherwise. What he's just told us is creepy. How do you destroy truth? What is left behind when you do? Is that how those monsters were formed?
No, my ally explains. They were what they are before it came along. They're pretty simple, by comparison. They are just hungry. The thing that is darkness is hungry, too, but what it "eats" isn't physical, and it has to poison everything first, for compatibility. If it succeeds, we won't recognize anything around ourselves any more - not even each other, and then he'll keep going. At the edge of my mind, I feel myself thinking about a hidden place, and a people in their infancy as a race. They don't understand. They wouldn't stand a chance. The discussion takes a turn; we are talking about accepting a quarantine. It seems that we have no choice.
I feel the weight of what he's saying slam into me, and it jolts me back to the moment, sitting in that chair at the asylum, looking at him as the doc, thinking about "what he's feeding her." My mind races.
I didn't come back to her, no matter how hard she tried. I didn't even say goodbye. He's made of lies and deception. He has to poison everything. He wants to get through the door. I'm the door.
I feel freezing cold. My whole body shivers. Goose bumps rise on every inch of my skin. Without thinking about it, I sink back into the chair, draw my knees up to my chest, and sip the cocoa, trying to feel warm.
The doc looks worried. "Do you understand? She doesn't know you've changed. She thinks you left. He latched on when she tried to bring you back, and no one knew it had happened until too late. He's been inside the whole time. She doesn't see what he is. She sees something else. She doesn't see how things are. She sees things as being how he can use them to make her do what he wants. She thinks you've let yourself be fooled into some kind of dark allegiance, and abandoned her. He's pulled her pain into anger at you for leaving. He's twisting everything she remembers, everything she feels. He's filling her with resentment and bitterness, poisoning her, so he can use her to get through your defenses. He has made her think that if she wears you down, she can save you from the enemy he's convinced her that we are, and make you return to her. He's using her to try to open you up, and he's making her into an entirely different person than she was. When he gets what he wants, he'll consume her, and discard the empty shell that will be left behind. And he's going to keep poisoning her and twisting who she is, until either you break the connection you made with her, or she breaks you open."
A fiery, liquid rage rises in my chest, and I'm not cold any more. I can feel heat in my face. There's a pounding in my head. Even my eyes feel hot. I want to break things. I want to burn things. I feel my grip tightening on the mug. I'm shaking even harder than before. I can hear someone growling, and for a moment I think they're here, but then I realize it's my voice. I'm going out there right now. I'm going to kill him.
I stand up, and a wave of dizziness hits me. I ignore it. I've got to get out that door. I start stumbling forward. There's a blackness around the edges of my vision. I feel like I'm on fire.
I feel a sharp sting in my left arm. The nurse is standing beside me, eyes wide, brow creased with worry. In her hand, I see a syringe and a hypodermic needle. I look behind me, shocked and angry. What the hell is she doing? I have to get out there. I'm going to burn everything.
My head is heavy. The doc has gotten up from his chair, and is running toward me. He hooks one shoulder under my right arm, and I feel the nurse slide under the other one. I try to push them away, but my limbs won't obey me. They feel like rubber. The cup with the hot chocolate falls from my fingers, but instead of crashing to the floor, it disappears. It feels like I'm falling, too, but I'm not. They're supporting me, guiding me back to the couch. I feel totally impotent, and completely desperate. I have to get my lady away from that thing.
The doc tells me, "Please, don't panic. Don't be angry. He won't do anything while you're here. You will get your chance at him, but you have to heal first. Don't rush in and throw everything away." The last thing I can understand sounds weird, like there's an echo. He keeps talking after that, but it sounds like I'm hearing him through a heavy blanket. I feel the soft cushions of the couch under me. I feel like I'm underwater, struggling to reach the top, except that I can breathe.
It's dark, and I don't feel anything.
When my husband woke me this morning, I had the sense that it had been hours since I lost consciousness. The anger momentarily returned, and I had to fight with it because I didn't want to lash out. I'm still tired. My neighbors were setting off fireworks and shooting guns in the air last night. I have only had a few hours of sleep, not long enough to have experienced the dream I had.
This is starting to fall into the category I think of as serial dreams. I've had them before. I thought that was something I was done with, because it's been a few years. I'm going to have to dig out my old journals and start going through them. There are some similarities here, things I remember. I'm sure that if I read the older entries, I'll find more.
A couple of weeks ago, I started working on a story based on one series of dreams I had as a teen. It involved different dimensions, and powers that would seem magical in reality, but weren't. I wonder if revisiting those dreams is part of the reason this is happening to me now. It feels like I'm working through something huge that runs really deep.
I don't know, though. Maybe I'm just nuts.
Showing posts with label alternate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alternate. Show all posts
Him again
I'm walking along the side of a lake that is bordered by a lot of big rocks. There isn't exactly a path, just an area that is kind of more flat than the rest, made by smaller rocks and stones. There are also trees and bushes around me, and I can't see very far ahead, but I can hear the repeated sound of something patting against the water.
The foliage starts to thin out as I continue moving forward. I can see a guy up ahead skipping stones along the water. Something about him makes me mildly uneasy, like I'm hanging out with people who are going to get caught doing something unacceptable, and I'm going to be implicated by association. I seriously consider going back the way I came, just to avoid him.
Before I get the chance, he speaks up with my voice, sounding simultaneously petulant and reproachful: "Don't bother, stupid. You can't get away from me."
He flings another stone across the water. This one really goes, traveling quite far and getting several hits before sinking. It moves so fast leaving his hand that it makes a whistling noise.
For a moment, I feel scared because of what he said, but I don't get the feeling that this guy is going to physically harm me. I can tell that he is angry, but he's not acting aggressive. He's sulking. He's also right, I realize. I can't avoid him. If I walk back the way I came, he'll just be somewhere along that path, too.
As I approach more closely, I can see who he is. I've met him before. He's me, but he's not me. I used to try to keep him on a leash, but now I can't do that without destroying part of myself. I was right about my uneasy feeling. This guy gets me into trouble all the time.
I am just a few feet away from him. Now that I know who I'm dealing with, I know I need to get him to talk about what is bothering him. I start to ask, and he cuts me off with "Why are you asking questions without wanting answers?"
He turns and walks away from me. I chase after him, and he runs. The chase takes us into a little brick building. From the outside, it looks unimposing, like maybe a little storage building. Inside, it's quite large and ornate. I can't help but stop to look around. When I do, I realize I'm in the lobby of a courthouse.
He enters a room at the other end of the lobby. I follow. Inside, there is a hearing going on. The judge is me, in a powdered wig, with half-sized bifocals , a robe, and a sledgehammer as a gavel. The prosecutor is also me, in a pantsuit, with a briefcase, rectangular glasses, and a really severe looking bun in my hair. The defense attorney is me with wispy curls, a whimsical tie-dyed hippie dress, and huge, bookworm glasses. There is a "me" baliff, too, a six-foot amazonian thug with short hair, bulging muscles, and no glasses, dressed in a uniform and standing with crossed arms glaring down at the defendant, my boss. There are several versions of me sitting where a jury should be. Most of them don't stand out, but one is dressed in my work uniform, and another is completely naked, though no one seems to notice.
The judge looks up and says, "Is this the witness?" The male me says "Yes, I brought her."
Suddenly I'm on the witness stand. I can see the seats behind the participants, where my family and some of my friends are sitting. The prosecutor gets up and asks me questions about things my boss has done to me and how they have affected my family. As I talk about my experiences with her all in one sitting, I begin to understand why the male me is so upset. The jury is glaring hatefully at the defendant by the time the prosecutor says there are no more questions.
I'm sitting in the audience with my family. The judge is talking, but the boss is turned around and glaring at me. She keeps throwing little things at me, and missing. When one lands close, I realize what she is throwing is little round turds. She is laughing, even though she looks angry. When the turds don't hit me, she pulls a bunch of little knives out of her purse and starts throwing those. They are hitting my family.
I yell for the bailiff, but before she can get there, the male me jumps between my family and my boss. He has a huge club, and begins pounding her while I move my family away out of her reach. He is shouting obscenities as he strikes again and again with the club. She stabs him in the ribs with one of the little knives, but it's tiny and barely does any damage. His club, on the other hand, is leaving huge bruises and even broken bones.
I send my family into another room where they will be safe, and shout for the bailiff to stop the beating. The bailiff rushes over and grabs the male me, pulling him back just as he swings the club at my boss's head. The club grazes the top of her head, and there is blood, but she will survive. Behind her on the desk is one of the cash registers from work. I realize that in the process of beating her, he has smashed it, too.
He looks at me and says, "Really? You're defending her after all she's done?" and then we are back at the lake, and he's skipping stones across the water again. I see several of my co-workers swimming near the edge of the water, and they don't look happy. One of them tells me that they have to just keep swimming here because there is no place else to go.
A shark fin appears behind them, and I tell them to climb out of the water. They look at me sadly, and I realize they can't get out. The shark swims closer, and my male self starts skipping stones at it. It shies away from those, but it is still circling the swimmers. I can see parts of bodies floating in the water, and I realize these are her previous victims.
On the ground beside my male self, I see what looks like a cannon with a harpoon sticking out of it. I tell him to use that on the shark. He gives me a sharp look, and very quickly says, "I have your permission?"
Somehow, I feel like I'm giving him permission to do something much bigger and more complex than this, but if I don't give it, that shark is going to eat the swimmers. I realize that there are versions of me in there, and worse, members of my family as well. Frightened, I tell him, "Yes, do whatever you have to do! Just stop that shark!"
He drops the hand full of little flat stones and grabs the cannon, turning it to aim at the shark. He fires it, and makes a direct hit. The water around the fin darkens with blood. Grabbing the attached rope, he hauls the shark over to where he is standing, then pulls it up out of the water onto the ground. I move closer so I can see it, even though I am terrified of sharks. I see the tail, the back, and the big fin on the top, but above the fin is a manager's uniform shirt from my workplace. Above that, a warped version of my boss's face stares at me. It has human eyes, but a shark's mouth, complete with teeth. The mouth is opening and closing as if she's still trying to bite, but she can't move from the spot where she is, so I am safe. There is a huge gash along the side of the shark body, and the rocks are covered with blood. Down the way from us, the rock border around the lake turns into a beach. One by one, the people in the water pull themselves out onto the shore, including the versions of me, who work together to pull my family out of the water.
The male me looks at her, then at me. I realize that if I don't let it happen this way, she's going to just keep eating people. I have to let him do what he thinks will be most effective, even if I am going to feel bad about how it turns out for her.
The foliage starts to thin out as I continue moving forward. I can see a guy up ahead skipping stones along the water. Something about him makes me mildly uneasy, like I'm hanging out with people who are going to get caught doing something unacceptable, and I'm going to be implicated by association. I seriously consider going back the way I came, just to avoid him.
Before I get the chance, he speaks up with my voice, sounding simultaneously petulant and reproachful: "Don't bother, stupid. You can't get away from me."
He flings another stone across the water. This one really goes, traveling quite far and getting several hits before sinking. It moves so fast leaving his hand that it makes a whistling noise.
For a moment, I feel scared because of what he said, but I don't get the feeling that this guy is going to physically harm me. I can tell that he is angry, but he's not acting aggressive. He's sulking. He's also right, I realize. I can't avoid him. If I walk back the way I came, he'll just be somewhere along that path, too.
As I approach more closely, I can see who he is. I've met him before. He's me, but he's not me. I used to try to keep him on a leash, but now I can't do that without destroying part of myself. I was right about my uneasy feeling. This guy gets me into trouble all the time.
I am just a few feet away from him. Now that I know who I'm dealing with, I know I need to get him to talk about what is bothering him. I start to ask, and he cuts me off with "Why are you asking questions without wanting answers?"
He turns and walks away from me. I chase after him, and he runs. The chase takes us into a little brick building. From the outside, it looks unimposing, like maybe a little storage building. Inside, it's quite large and ornate. I can't help but stop to look around. When I do, I realize I'm in the lobby of a courthouse.
He enters a room at the other end of the lobby. I follow. Inside, there is a hearing going on. The judge is me, in a powdered wig, with half-sized bifocals , a robe, and a sledgehammer as a gavel. The prosecutor is also me, in a pantsuit, with a briefcase, rectangular glasses, and a really severe looking bun in my hair. The defense attorney is me with wispy curls, a whimsical tie-dyed hippie dress, and huge, bookworm glasses. There is a "me" baliff, too, a six-foot amazonian thug with short hair, bulging muscles, and no glasses, dressed in a uniform and standing with crossed arms glaring down at the defendant, my boss. There are several versions of me sitting where a jury should be. Most of them don't stand out, but one is dressed in my work uniform, and another is completely naked, though no one seems to notice.
The judge looks up and says, "Is this the witness?" The male me says "Yes, I brought her."
Suddenly I'm on the witness stand. I can see the seats behind the participants, where my family and some of my friends are sitting. The prosecutor gets up and asks me questions about things my boss has done to me and how they have affected my family. As I talk about my experiences with her all in one sitting, I begin to understand why the male me is so upset. The jury is glaring hatefully at the defendant by the time the prosecutor says there are no more questions.
I'm sitting in the audience with my family. The judge is talking, but the boss is turned around and glaring at me. She keeps throwing little things at me, and missing. When one lands close, I realize what she is throwing is little round turds. She is laughing, even though she looks angry. When the turds don't hit me, she pulls a bunch of little knives out of her purse and starts throwing those. They are hitting my family.
I yell for the bailiff, but before she can get there, the male me jumps between my family and my boss. He has a huge club, and begins pounding her while I move my family away out of her reach. He is shouting obscenities as he strikes again and again with the club. She stabs him in the ribs with one of the little knives, but it's tiny and barely does any damage. His club, on the other hand, is leaving huge bruises and even broken bones.
I send my family into another room where they will be safe, and shout for the bailiff to stop the beating. The bailiff rushes over and grabs the male me, pulling him back just as he swings the club at my boss's head. The club grazes the top of her head, and there is blood, but she will survive. Behind her on the desk is one of the cash registers from work. I realize that in the process of beating her, he has smashed it, too.
He looks at me and says, "Really? You're defending her after all she's done?" and then we are back at the lake, and he's skipping stones across the water again. I see several of my co-workers swimming near the edge of the water, and they don't look happy. One of them tells me that they have to just keep swimming here because there is no place else to go.
A shark fin appears behind them, and I tell them to climb out of the water. They look at me sadly, and I realize they can't get out. The shark swims closer, and my male self starts skipping stones at it. It shies away from those, but it is still circling the swimmers. I can see parts of bodies floating in the water, and I realize these are her previous victims.
On the ground beside my male self, I see what looks like a cannon with a harpoon sticking out of it. I tell him to use that on the shark. He gives me a sharp look, and very quickly says, "I have your permission?"
 | |
| Employees are friends, not food! |
He drops the hand full of little flat stones and grabs the cannon, turning it to aim at the shark. He fires it, and makes a direct hit. The water around the fin darkens with blood. Grabbing the attached rope, he hauls the shark over to where he is standing, then pulls it up out of the water onto the ground. I move closer so I can see it, even though I am terrified of sharks. I see the tail, the back, and the big fin on the top, but above the fin is a manager's uniform shirt from my workplace. Above that, a warped version of my boss's face stares at me. It has human eyes, but a shark's mouth, complete with teeth. The mouth is opening and closing as if she's still trying to bite, but she can't move from the spot where she is, so I am safe. There is a huge gash along the side of the shark body, and the rocks are covered with blood. Down the way from us, the rock border around the lake turns into a beach. One by one, the people in the water pull themselves out onto the shore, including the versions of me, who work together to pull my family out of the water.
The male me looks at her, then at me. I realize that if I don't let it happen this way, she's going to just keep eating people. I have to let him do what he thinks will be most effective, even if I am going to feel bad about how it turns out for her.
Recurring nightmare: Doppelganger
When I was really young, I started having dreams about running into an exact or nearly exact, but wholly evil copy of myself. There are a few specific ones I remember, but I also remember that the theme was a frequent occurrence. I still have doppelganger dreams now, but they are much more rare than back then.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I am in the kitchen with my Mom. She sends me to get something from my room. I go down the hall past the bathroom, turn, and go down the hall to my room. The door is closed. That's odd, because normally I don't keep it closed, but I dismiss it. I open it to go in and get what I am after.
When I open the door, I see myself sitting on the bed across the room from me. Sitting with my other self is my mother. My other self looks upset, as if she's been crying, and she is snuggled up to my mother. I realize that can't be Mom, either, because she's out in the kitchen. The realization of that actually is scarier to me than the sight of my double. Then, my double gets off of the bed and begins slowly walking toward me, her jaws working hungrily. I back out of the room and shut the door. I run back down the hallway. I hear the door open as I near the end of the hall. I turn to see the doppelganger standing right behind me, mouth opened further than it should be. One physical difference between us is that her teeth are like shark's teeth; there are rows and rows of them, and they all come to a point. I try to push her away and she grabs my hand and bites my finger.
The pain woke me. I am pretty sure that the cause for this dream was the pain of a broken finger, which I remember happened when I was in the second grade. By the time I was in high school, that finger was starting to show signs of osteoarthritis. My other fingers are doing the same now that I'm almost 40, but that one got a 20 year head start. I'm guessing the head start is was caused by the injury.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I'm in my room. I've been sitting and reading, and I'm getting kind of hungry. I think I'll go get a bite to eat. I get up out of the beanbag I'm sitting in, and turn to leave my room. As I turn, my eyes catch the tall mirror on the dressing table at the other end of my room, near the door. My reflection looks wrong. It takes a moment to realize that it's because the hair color is wrong. I have dark brown hair, and the girl in the mirror is blond. I move closer, and notice that she also has really, really pink eyes... and sharp teeth. She's baring them at me.
I bolt toward the door, which takes me right past that mirror. As I run, the doppelganger runs toward me in the mirror. I'm terrified. I run out the door. As I cross the threshold, I feel something tug at the back of my shirt, but it lets go. I slam the door, hard, and there is a thud on the other side.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It's mostly a normal day. I have errands to run. I have things to deliver, things to pick up, and people to check on. I go about my normal routine, write down my list, and lay it on the kitchen table. I get my breakfast together and grab something to read while I'm eating.
When I'm done with breakfast, I reach for the list, but it's gone. It's not just not where I put it. It's also not on the floor nearby, not on any of the chairs, not in the trash, and not in my pocket. It occurs to me that maybe, without thinking, I used it as a bookmark . I can see myself telling my friends about that later and laughing. However, it's not there, either. The paper has just vanished.
I'm frustrated by the loss, but I guess it's no big deal. I decide that I don't have time to write the list again, but writing it the first time kind of fixed the stops in my memory.
The first place I'm going is to pick up a check at the newspaper. I have to cash it before I can run my other errands, or I won't be able to cash it until tomorrow. When I get there, the secretary tells me I was all ready there earlier, and picked it up then. I know that I wasn't, and think that maybe my Mom picked it up. We look a lot alike.
I head home, but she's not there. My brother is up, though. He tells me I'm too late to apologize for what I said earlier, that I'll have to wait until she comes home. I don't know what the heck he's talking about, but I don't have time to deal with it right now. I have to deliver something to a friend for a school related project, and she's only going to be at home for a couple of hours between activities today. I head to her house.
When I get there, my friend is unhappy with me. She says we're done talking about it, and not to try to fix things. When I ask what she's talking about, she tells me I was just there and told her I don't have the item for her project. I tell her that's impossible, that I just came from home, and I have the object right here. I hand it to her. She acts like I'm either crazy, or trying to make her feel like she is. We part on kind of edgy terms, but agree to just call the situation weird.
This continues for all of my errands; every place I go, I'm told that I was just there a few moments earlier, and had done or said something to upset the person or people involved in the errand. If I was supposed to pick something up, it's been taken. If I was supposed to deliver something, it's no longer expected. Everyone on my list looks at me like I'm an absolute nut.
The whole day, I am a step behind my double, never running into her, always running into the fallout from whatever it is she did. At the end of the list, I go home. When I walk in the door, my whole family is in the kitchen, talking worriedly. They all turn to look at me with surprise. I ask what's wrong, and my brother asks me how I got there. When all I can do is give him a confused look, he tells me we all just had a huge fight, and I locked myself in the bathroom. I hear the bathroom door slam open, and everyone jumps and stares in that direction. I get chills, worrying about what I'm going to see come down the hallway from there.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The second one first happened when I was in about the 5th grade. We'd just moved me into an upstairs bedroom, and I wasn't used to sleeping up there. The third one started when I was in high school. There were more, but those three are dreams I had more than once, and which have stuck with me for a long time.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I am in the kitchen with my Mom. She sends me to get something from my room. I go down the hall past the bathroom, turn, and go down the hall to my room. The door is closed. That's odd, because normally I don't keep it closed, but I dismiss it. I open it to go in and get what I am after.
When I open the door, I see myself sitting on the bed across the room from me. Sitting with my other self is my mother. My other self looks upset, as if she's been crying, and she is snuggled up to my mother. I realize that can't be Mom, either, because she's out in the kitchen. The realization of that actually is scarier to me than the sight of my double. Then, my double gets off of the bed and begins slowly walking toward me, her jaws working hungrily. I back out of the room and shut the door. I run back down the hallway. I hear the door open as I near the end of the hall. I turn to see the doppelganger standing right behind me, mouth opened further than it should be. One physical difference between us is that her teeth are like shark's teeth; there are rows and rows of them, and they all come to a point. I try to push her away and she grabs my hand and bites my finger.
The pain woke me. I am pretty sure that the cause for this dream was the pain of a broken finger, which I remember happened when I was in the second grade. By the time I was in high school, that finger was starting to show signs of osteoarthritis. My other fingers are doing the same now that I'm almost 40, but that one got a 20 year head start. I'm guessing the head start is was caused by the injury.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I'm in my room. I've been sitting and reading, and I'm getting kind of hungry. I think I'll go get a bite to eat. I get up out of the beanbag I'm sitting in, and turn to leave my room. As I turn, my eyes catch the tall mirror on the dressing table at the other end of my room, near the door. My reflection looks wrong. It takes a moment to realize that it's because the hair color is wrong. I have dark brown hair, and the girl in the mirror is blond. I move closer, and notice that she also has really, really pink eyes... and sharp teeth. She's baring them at me.
I bolt toward the door, which takes me right past that mirror. As I run, the doppelganger runs toward me in the mirror. I'm terrified. I run out the door. As I cross the threshold, I feel something tug at the back of my shirt, but it lets go. I slam the door, hard, and there is a thud on the other side.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It's mostly a normal day. I have errands to run. I have things to deliver, things to pick up, and people to check on. I go about my normal routine, write down my list, and lay it on the kitchen table. I get my breakfast together and grab something to read while I'm eating.
When I'm done with breakfast, I reach for the list, but it's gone. It's not just not where I put it. It's also not on the floor nearby, not on any of the chairs, not in the trash, and not in my pocket. It occurs to me that maybe, without thinking, I used it as a bookmark . I can see myself telling my friends about that later and laughing. However, it's not there, either. The paper has just vanished.
I'm frustrated by the loss, but I guess it's no big deal. I decide that I don't have time to write the list again, but writing it the first time kind of fixed the stops in my memory.
The first place I'm going is to pick up a check at the newspaper. I have to cash it before I can run my other errands, or I won't be able to cash it until tomorrow. When I get there, the secretary tells me I was all ready there earlier, and picked it up then. I know that I wasn't, and think that maybe my Mom picked it up. We look a lot alike.
I head home, but she's not there. My brother is up, though. He tells me I'm too late to apologize for what I said earlier, that I'll have to wait until she comes home. I don't know what the heck he's talking about, but I don't have time to deal with it right now. I have to deliver something to a friend for a school related project, and she's only going to be at home for a couple of hours between activities today. I head to her house.
When I get there, my friend is unhappy with me. She says we're done talking about it, and not to try to fix things. When I ask what she's talking about, she tells me I was just there and told her I don't have the item for her project. I tell her that's impossible, that I just came from home, and I have the object right here. I hand it to her. She acts like I'm either crazy, or trying to make her feel like she is. We part on kind of edgy terms, but agree to just call the situation weird.
This continues for all of my errands; every place I go, I'm told that I was just there a few moments earlier, and had done or said something to upset the person or people involved in the errand. If I was supposed to pick something up, it's been taken. If I was supposed to deliver something, it's no longer expected. Everyone on my list looks at me like I'm an absolute nut.
The whole day, I am a step behind my double, never running into her, always running into the fallout from whatever it is she did. At the end of the list, I go home. When I walk in the door, my whole family is in the kitchen, talking worriedly. They all turn to look at me with surprise. I ask what's wrong, and my brother asks me how I got there. When all I can do is give him a confused look, he tells me we all just had a huge fight, and I locked myself in the bathroom. I hear the bathroom door slam open, and everyone jumps and stares in that direction. I get chills, worrying about what I'm going to see come down the hallway from there.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The second one first happened when I was in about the 5th grade. We'd just moved me into an upstairs bedroom, and I wasn't used to sleeping up there. The third one started when I was in high school. There were more, but those three are dreams I had more than once, and which have stuck with me for a long time.
Another World
Before last night, I hadn't had this one in a long time. I'd almost forgotten about it.
Growing up, I used to dream all the time that parts of my house were actually portals to another world. I would just walk through the wall like it was an illusion, and I'd be somewhere else. Sometimes, these were just good dreams about going somewhere nice. Other times, the other world was an escape from something that was chasing me.
There was one particular spot that was always the same. I had it again last night, and even though I haven't lived in that house for years, that was still the setting. Everything was as it had been when I was in school.
I am running from a monster that wants to hurt me. I can't see it, but I can hear it thumping and bumping through the house. I outsmart it by running down the hallway, and trying to circle back around to the living room so that I can go out the front door. Unfortunately, the path is blocked, and I cannot get out that way. I turn and go back down the hall, through the foyer, and up the stairs. The monster is falling behind. It can't find me, and it's still downstairs. I can hear it going the wrong way, getting further from where I stand. If I just stay still, it won't know where I am, but it's going to run out of places to look in the downstairs eventually, and then it will come up here anyway. I might as well make a run for it while I have a head start.
I can hear the monster banging around at the furthest part of the house from the stairs. It's right under the room where I'll be going when I run. I have a plan. Carefully, I set myself as if to start a race, and then bolt down the hallway to my parents room. As I near the door, I hear a crash and a series of thumping noises from downstairs as the monster tears through the house toward the stairway.
In my parents room, I jump over the bed and open the window. I quickly turn the lock to hold it open, so that the monster will think I went that way. Then, I run to the closet, enter, and shut the door. The door has a little push-button lock, which I engage. Then, I turn toward the back..
I walk through the wall.
Turning back, I see a screen-and-glass storm door, with a little hook-latch to secure it shut. I engage the latch.
Then, I turn away from that door. I am in kind of a tunnel. In front of me, about three running steps away, is a cheap, thin wooden door, the type you would put on a closet.
I push the door open and go through, turn, and lock it. It has a little twisty button in the middle of the knob.
I turn away from that door, and face the next one. It's another wooden door, but heavier and sturdier. It looks like it would be tough to break this one. Even the hinges are thicker and heavier. I push it open, and go through. On the other side, it has a deadbolt lock and one of those chains that attaches to the wall. I engage both, then turn and face the next door.
I can hear the monster in the bedroom. It's really noisy, pounding on the furniture and stomping around. It roars loudly. I hear it smash the window and the window frame. It steps out onto the roof of the family room, where I hear it thudding around. There, it will discover that there are only two ways down, climbing on the UHF antenna tower that someone put in years ago, or jump. The monster weighs too much to climb that. I don't, but I don't know if it's smart enough to figure that out. It may come back into the room. My heart is beating so loud, I'm sure it must be able to hear it.
I keep going, facing the next door. This one is metal. I think it's aluminum, but it's thick enough that I can feel some serious weight to it when I push on it. I go through, close the door, and turn around. This door has a push-button lock, a deadbolt, a chain, and a metal bar that swings down to block it. I engage them all. It goes well, until I move the bar. That makes a noise, and the monster is instantly quiet. I can't hear anything.
I am terrified. It knows where I am. I can only pray that it doesn't realize it can go through the back of the closet. There is no use trying to be quiet now. In a split second, all hell will break loose on the other side of those doors.
I bolt to the next door. It's much heavier than the last one, and sounds like it's made of steel. Even if I had not made a noise with the bar, the sound of the metal grating against the floor would have gotten the monster's attention. I slam it shut with a loud, echoing thump, turn the deadbolt, engage the extra large, heavy chain, draw the bar, and pull handle that is beside me on the floor. A slim steel panel in the ceiling opens, and a three inch thick, iron portcullis the height and width of the door falls to the floor, inches from my nose. I can't see the top of it. At that, the monster roars loudly enough that I can hear it through even the door I just closed.
I hear the first door crash open, then the second. As the monster begins pounding on the third, I turn away and run. There is a good twenty yard hallway in front of me. There is no discernible source of light, but I can see another door in the distance. I run.
I hear the monster crash through the third door. It slams into fourth with a resounding gong sound. That is not going to hold for very long. As I cross the short distance to the hallway, I can hear that the fourth door is beginning to warp under the pounding it is taking.
I don't go through this door. Here, there is a trap. On the other side is a weapon that will fire hot oil at whoever opens it.
I find a crack in the wall, stick my fingers in it, and pull open the front of one stone. There are two small levers. When I push the first one down, the base drops out from under the last fifteen feet of floor I just crossed. The floor is still there, but anything weighing more than a cat will fall through upon trying to cross. I push the second lever down.
A section of the wall opens. I close the stone. It looks just like the rest of the wall. If you didn't know what to look for, you would never find it.
I go through the opening. On the other side, there is another stone I can open. Inside, I push down another lever, and that closes the wall. It looks as if it had been undisturbed the whole time.
I hear the fourth door give way. The monster roars, almost a scream. The sound sends shards of ice up through my back.. I could begin to cry. Instead, I quietly pray that my tricks will slow it down.
I run down another long hallway toward yet another door. This one is smooth, and it's standing open. There is light on the other side. I hear the monster slam into the steel door with a thunderous crash. I only get one chance to do this. I can hear the door breaking free of the wall, and I can only hope that the portcullis buys me some time, but I have no such luck.. The sound of the portcullis giving way seems distant through the wall. Right after, I hear the surprised yelp of the monster as it falls through the floor, followed by grunts and groans as it hauls itself out of the hole.
I slip through the opening. The vault door is two feet thick, steel-reinforced stone, and is built into an equally strong steel door frame that runs along the wall for a couple of feet on either side. It is incredibly heavy, but the hinges are well oiled, and it's made to assist in closing it. It will be harder to open than it is to close.
Once it is closed, I face a huge wheel in the middle. Turning it counter-clockwise, I activate several rows of two inch thick metal bars which extend out of the middle of the door's thickness, and into the frame on either side, into the ceiling, and deep into the floor. I can hear the monster's angry bellow as it bashes open the last door, and is hit full on by the oil. I hope that in its flailing, it will fall back down into the hole, but instead, I hear it pounding on the walls. Soon, it discovers the secret door, and begins to bash its way through.
I have two final touches. The first, I activate right away. Pulling a lever mounted in the wall, I drop another iron portcullis across the door, and I hear an identical one fall on the other side. I wait. Beside the lever is a handle attached to a chain that hangs from the sloping ceiling. I take hold if that, but do not pull until I hear the monster's footsteps approaching the door. As soon as I hear the metal straining as the monster pulls on it, I give the chain a good hard yank, and sparks jump across the door as thousands of volts are fed through it. On the other side, the monster screams a terrible, thunderous shriek that would put the Bean Sidhe to shame. There are huge clangs and crashing noises as it thrashes around trying to break itself loose from the hold of that current.
I turn from the door and run again, this time into a great hall. There, waiting for me, is a band of knights in armor. They give me a welcoming look, as if I am returning to my home instead of fleeing it.
Each of them is armed with at least three weapons, and they tell me to suit up and arm myself, but to stay back.. Behind them, on the walls, are various medieval weapons.
I'm strong, but not incredibly so. I know I'm not going to be able to handle any of the bigger, heavier weapons enough to do any good. The bow is equally useless, because without having practiced with it, I have no way to predict my aim. I choose a shorter sword. It's still pretty heavy. Between the handle and the blade, it's as long as my arm. Next to that is a suit of armor, but I'm afraid if I put that on, I won't be able to move. Instead, I grab a silvery chain shirt. It's too long, the body reaching my knees, and the sleeves falling down over my hands. I wrap a belt around my waist, sliding a sheath for the sword into place.
On a table, there is what looks like a chain ski mask.. I put that on, as well. It feels weirdly cold against my skin, and I expect it to pull my hair, but I can feel that there is fabric underneath that part of it.
This is as ready as I am going to get. I stand behind my guardians, and listen to the creature bash its way through the door to our world.
The metal doesn't just give way. It explodes into the room, chunks of debris preceding the biggest, most bizarre looking thing I've seen on two legs. He stands twice as tall as the biggest knight in the room. I can feel my stomach drop to my knees, and I momentarily have to fight the urge to heave.
Atop his massive head is a scraggly mess of sporadic strands of hair jutting out in all directions from various points of origin. His upper face, nose included, looks like a Neanderthal man, but below that is more of a huge dog's mouth, including the teeth. His huge, glaring eyes are red, with tiny black irises and black veins that stand out. He has tusks like a warthog. His upper body has the shape of a gorilla, with a massive, hairy chest - much more hair that is on his head. In fact, the further down his body I look, the hairier he gets. His broad shoulders lead to long, muscular arms that end with huge, fuzzy, clawed hands. Below the waist, his legs are bent like those of a four-legged animal. His long, thin feet look catlike, with long, sharp claws sliding in and out under huge tufts of hair on his toes as he moves. A scaly tail snaps back and forth behind him. At the tip is another cat-claw-like appendage that I have a sneaking suspicion would inject poison if it hits anyone.
He leans forward in an aggressive stance, and his jaw unhinges, dropping nearly to his chest, as he shows all of his teeth and lets out a massive roar. He pulls his second pair of arms out from behind his back.. Each of those two hands holds a huge club. Next to his massive size, they look like bowling pins.
The monster rushes forward, and so do the knights, bellowing war-cries of their own. As much as I was afraid for myself moments ago, I now am desperately worried about them. How can they survive fighting such a terrible beast? Yet the first to reach him lands a resounding blow to the gut with a huge morning star, and the creature loses its breath and its momentum.
The second knight uses his shield to shove the monster back further, and then stabs at him with a sword not much longer than the one I chose. The monster swings one of his empty hands, and knocks both knights halfway across the room. They flounder, trying to get back on their feet in their heavy, ungainly armor. I flinch, watching the impact. This is terrible!
The whipping tail comes around and nearly hits another knight, who cannot get out of the way. The biggest knight saves him, slamming his claymore into the claw and knocking it back at the monster. With a howl of pain, the monster grabs at the sword, and swings a massive club at the knight. The knight slices off all of the fingers on the monster's one hand, and he lets out a high, angry shriek..
The battle continues, knights and monster exchanging blows, but it soon becomes clear that we need more knights. The monster is able to stand up to terrible damage, and though the knights are armored well, their armor is slowing them down. I am sobbing with fear and anger as he batters my friends. Soon, he will take one of them down who will not get back up. They are showing signs of fatigue and pain.
The only thing I can do is join the battle, and I'm not very confident that the addition of my hand is going to make much difference. The smallest of my knights is head, shoulders, and chest taller than me. All I have is a glorified dagger, and barely a hint of armor.
Then, there is a break in the action. The monster pounds his way through the line and charges at me. I brace myself, ready to slash at him with the short sword, but I know that there is no way this little toy is going to stop anything that big.
The knights attack from the side, and the monster twists and turns, shoving and throwing them aside with his hands. One knight manages to disarm the hand on his side that is holding a club. On the other side, three knights grab one arm. The monster stretches toward me with his free hands, and wraps that tail around one of the knights. They let go of his arm to help their comrade, and he lunges toward me. I am so startled that I drop the sword.
Thinking quickly, I grab two of the fingers on the hand closest to me and pull as hard as I can, leaning back and hauling his weight around to my left. The monster stumbles, staggers, and falls forward past me as I let go. I have to jump away to the side to avoid getting hit by his flailing legs and that tail, which has whipped its way loose from the knight. I grab the sword and bring it down as hard as I can, not on the monster's back, but on the back of its ankle, slicing through the tendon. The muscle above it immediately snaps up, and the monster screams. Before it can react more than to draw into almost a face-down fetal position, I slice the other ankle, too, and then slash the sword across both of its exposed butt-cheeks. Dark, thick blood oozes from the wounds. It looks like half set up black cherry gelatin.
The knights thrash forward pounce on the creature, bashing and stabbing, before it can get to its knees. That tail comes down into the crowd, but one gauntleted hand grabs it and with a jerk, breaks it off. Then, it's all over, and the pommel of that claymore is sticking out of the back of the beast.
At that moment more knights arrive, bursting in through two big wooden doors at the other end of the room. With them is a lady about my age, who is a little taller than me. She's kind of muscular for a woman, but not so much that she looks like a man. She runs over to me and grabs me by the arms. She looks me over like a mom checking out a kid who just missed getting hit by a car. Her face looks worried.
Her hair is really long, hanging down around her like a golden shawl. She is wearing something that looks like a simplistic but elegant prom dress, and she has jewelry all over. She seems both relieved and disappointed. She proclaims thanks to multiple deities that we are all uninjured, though with the knights that statement is slightly questionable. At least no one was hit by the poison tail, but the men are definitely beaten up.
When I look at her, I realize that I have to go back through that passageway. The longer I am here, the more this place feels like the place where I belong, but if I stay, there will be many more monsters, and many more battles, and they will get hurt. She does not want me to go, but she does not want me to stay, either.
I pull the mask off and lay it on that little table. The woman lays one hand on my cheek and opens her mouth to say something.
This morning, I woke before she could get the words out. I've had this dream periodically from shortly before my teen years. Back then, the lady was just a girl. She didn't have quite as much jewelry, and her hair was shorter.
The last thing she always does is ask me if I am going to stay this time. I can't remember ever having the dream without that happening, except when I am awakened before she speaks to me.
Often, the dream goes past that point. I tell her that I have to go back, until I learn what it is that draws "them" to me. Until I can solve that problem, I am a danger to everyone here. It isn't always the same monster as the one I dreamed of last night, but it is always something horrible and scary.
My friend always insists that I at least have some time, and she is right. I can stay there for a few hours without incident, especially since we've just defeated one. Another won't come along for days.
If I don't wake up before we are done talking, a dinner is laid out, and though the knights are banged up and bruised, we all sit down at this long table and eat. There is an amazing amount and variety of foods at this meal, every thing I've ever eaten and enjoyed. Needless to say, if I get to the dinner, I totally pig out. If I do not wake up before then, I always wake up at some point during that feast, but I can't feel too badly about it. I know they expect me to disappear.
It seems odd to me that in these dreams, I always run to this place, at first to escape, then to receive help, yet at the end, I always have to leave to avoid further endangering everyone there. It seems to me that I've ended up there that way many times, yet it doesn't make sense to me that I would go there when I'm being chased if I'm worried about the safety of those people. Once or twice, there's been some hint or inkling that there is a reason, something to do with having control over where the monster goes and who encounters it... but I've never come to any definitive conclusion, and I still run there whenever I have that dream.
Growing up, I used to dream all the time that parts of my house were actually portals to another world. I would just walk through the wall like it was an illusion, and I'd be somewhere else. Sometimes, these were just good dreams about going somewhere nice. Other times, the other world was an escape from something that was chasing me.
There was one particular spot that was always the same. I had it again last night, and even though I haven't lived in that house for years, that was still the setting. Everything was as it had been when I was in school.
I am running from a monster that wants to hurt me. I can't see it, but I can hear it thumping and bumping through the house. I outsmart it by running down the hallway, and trying to circle back around to the living room so that I can go out the front door. Unfortunately, the path is blocked, and I cannot get out that way. I turn and go back down the hall, through the foyer, and up the stairs. The monster is falling behind. It can't find me, and it's still downstairs. I can hear it going the wrong way, getting further from where I stand. If I just stay still, it won't know where I am, but it's going to run out of places to look in the downstairs eventually, and then it will come up here anyway. I might as well make a run for it while I have a head start.
I can hear the monster banging around at the furthest part of the house from the stairs. It's right under the room where I'll be going when I run. I have a plan. Carefully, I set myself as if to start a race, and then bolt down the hallway to my parents room. As I near the door, I hear a crash and a series of thumping noises from downstairs as the monster tears through the house toward the stairway.
In my parents room, I jump over the bed and open the window. I quickly turn the lock to hold it open, so that the monster will think I went that way. Then, I run to the closet, enter, and shut the door. The door has a little push-button lock, which I engage. Then, I turn toward the back..
I walk through the wall.
Turning back, I see a screen-and-glass storm door, with a little hook-latch to secure it shut. I engage the latch.
Then, I turn away from that door. I am in kind of a tunnel. In front of me, about three running steps away, is a cheap, thin wooden door, the type you would put on a closet.
I push the door open and go through, turn, and lock it. It has a little twisty button in the middle of the knob.
I turn away from that door, and face the next one. It's another wooden door, but heavier and sturdier. It looks like it would be tough to break this one. Even the hinges are thicker and heavier. I push it open, and go through. On the other side, it has a deadbolt lock and one of those chains that attaches to the wall. I engage both, then turn and face the next door.
I can hear the monster in the bedroom. It's really noisy, pounding on the furniture and stomping around. It roars loudly. I hear it smash the window and the window frame. It steps out onto the roof of the family room, where I hear it thudding around. There, it will discover that there are only two ways down, climbing on the UHF antenna tower that someone put in years ago, or jump. The monster weighs too much to climb that. I don't, but I don't know if it's smart enough to figure that out. It may come back into the room. My heart is beating so loud, I'm sure it must be able to hear it.
I keep going, facing the next door. This one is metal. I think it's aluminum, but it's thick enough that I can feel some serious weight to it when I push on it. I go through, close the door, and turn around. This door has a push-button lock, a deadbolt, a chain, and a metal bar that swings down to block it. I engage them all. It goes well, until I move the bar. That makes a noise, and the monster is instantly quiet. I can't hear anything.
I am terrified. It knows where I am. I can only pray that it doesn't realize it can go through the back of the closet. There is no use trying to be quiet now. In a split second, all hell will break loose on the other side of those doors.
I bolt to the next door. It's much heavier than the last one, and sounds like it's made of steel. Even if I had not made a noise with the bar, the sound of the metal grating against the floor would have gotten the monster's attention. I slam it shut with a loud, echoing thump, turn the deadbolt, engage the extra large, heavy chain, draw the bar, and pull handle that is beside me on the floor. A slim steel panel in the ceiling opens, and a three inch thick, iron portcullis the height and width of the door falls to the floor, inches from my nose. I can't see the top of it. At that, the monster roars loudly enough that I can hear it through even the door I just closed.
I hear the first door crash open, then the second. As the monster begins pounding on the third, I turn away and run. There is a good twenty yard hallway in front of me. There is no discernible source of light, but I can see another door in the distance. I run.
I hear the monster crash through the third door. It slams into fourth with a resounding gong sound. That is not going to hold for very long. As I cross the short distance to the hallway, I can hear that the fourth door is beginning to warp under the pounding it is taking.
I don't go through this door. Here, there is a trap. On the other side is a weapon that will fire hot oil at whoever opens it.
I find a crack in the wall, stick my fingers in it, and pull open the front of one stone. There are two small levers. When I push the first one down, the base drops out from under the last fifteen feet of floor I just crossed. The floor is still there, but anything weighing more than a cat will fall through upon trying to cross. I push the second lever down.
A section of the wall opens. I close the stone. It looks just like the rest of the wall. If you didn't know what to look for, you would never find it.
I go through the opening. On the other side, there is another stone I can open. Inside, I push down another lever, and that closes the wall. It looks as if it had been undisturbed the whole time.
I hear the fourth door give way. The monster roars, almost a scream. The sound sends shards of ice up through my back.. I could begin to cry. Instead, I quietly pray that my tricks will slow it down.
I run down another long hallway toward yet another door. This one is smooth, and it's standing open. There is light on the other side. I hear the monster slam into the steel door with a thunderous crash. I only get one chance to do this. I can hear the door breaking free of the wall, and I can only hope that the portcullis buys me some time, but I have no such luck.. The sound of the portcullis giving way seems distant through the wall. Right after, I hear the surprised yelp of the monster as it falls through the floor, followed by grunts and groans as it hauls itself out of the hole.
I slip through the opening. The vault door is two feet thick, steel-reinforced stone, and is built into an equally strong steel door frame that runs along the wall for a couple of feet on either side. It is incredibly heavy, but the hinges are well oiled, and it's made to assist in closing it. It will be harder to open than it is to close.
Once it is closed, I face a huge wheel in the middle. Turning it counter-clockwise, I activate several rows of two inch thick metal bars which extend out of the middle of the door's thickness, and into the frame on either side, into the ceiling, and deep into the floor. I can hear the monster's angry bellow as it bashes open the last door, and is hit full on by the oil. I hope that in its flailing, it will fall back down into the hole, but instead, I hear it pounding on the walls. Soon, it discovers the secret door, and begins to bash its way through.
I have two final touches. The first, I activate right away. Pulling a lever mounted in the wall, I drop another iron portcullis across the door, and I hear an identical one fall on the other side. I wait. Beside the lever is a handle attached to a chain that hangs from the sloping ceiling. I take hold if that, but do not pull until I hear the monster's footsteps approaching the door. As soon as I hear the metal straining as the monster pulls on it, I give the chain a good hard yank, and sparks jump across the door as thousands of volts are fed through it. On the other side, the monster screams a terrible, thunderous shriek that would put the Bean Sidhe to shame. There are huge clangs and crashing noises as it thrashes around trying to break itself loose from the hold of that current.
I turn from the door and run again, this time into a great hall. There, waiting for me, is a band of knights in armor. They give me a welcoming look, as if I am returning to my home instead of fleeing it.
Each of them is armed with at least three weapons, and they tell me to suit up and arm myself, but to stay back.. Behind them, on the walls, are various medieval weapons.
I'm strong, but not incredibly so. I know I'm not going to be able to handle any of the bigger, heavier weapons enough to do any good. The bow is equally useless, because without having practiced with it, I have no way to predict my aim. I choose a shorter sword. It's still pretty heavy. Between the handle and the blade, it's as long as my arm. Next to that is a suit of armor, but I'm afraid if I put that on, I won't be able to move. Instead, I grab a silvery chain shirt. It's too long, the body reaching my knees, and the sleeves falling down over my hands. I wrap a belt around my waist, sliding a sheath for the sword into place.
On a table, there is what looks like a chain ski mask.. I put that on, as well. It feels weirdly cold against my skin, and I expect it to pull my hair, but I can feel that there is fabric underneath that part of it.
This is as ready as I am going to get. I stand behind my guardians, and listen to the creature bash its way through the door to our world.
The metal doesn't just give way. It explodes into the room, chunks of debris preceding the biggest, most bizarre looking thing I've seen on two legs. He stands twice as tall as the biggest knight in the room. I can feel my stomach drop to my knees, and I momentarily have to fight the urge to heave.
Atop his massive head is a scraggly mess of sporadic strands of hair jutting out in all directions from various points of origin. His upper face, nose included, looks like a Neanderthal man, but below that is more of a huge dog's mouth, including the teeth. His huge, glaring eyes are red, with tiny black irises and black veins that stand out. He has tusks like a warthog. His upper body has the shape of a gorilla, with a massive, hairy chest - much more hair that is on his head. In fact, the further down his body I look, the hairier he gets. His broad shoulders lead to long, muscular arms that end with huge, fuzzy, clawed hands. Below the waist, his legs are bent like those of a four-legged animal. His long, thin feet look catlike, with long, sharp claws sliding in and out under huge tufts of hair on his toes as he moves. A scaly tail snaps back and forth behind him. At the tip is another cat-claw-like appendage that I have a sneaking suspicion would inject poison if it hits anyone.
He leans forward in an aggressive stance, and his jaw unhinges, dropping nearly to his chest, as he shows all of his teeth and lets out a massive roar. He pulls his second pair of arms out from behind his back.. Each of those two hands holds a huge club. Next to his massive size, they look like bowling pins.
The monster rushes forward, and so do the knights, bellowing war-cries of their own. As much as I was afraid for myself moments ago, I now am desperately worried about them. How can they survive fighting such a terrible beast? Yet the first to reach him lands a resounding blow to the gut with a huge morning star, and the creature loses its breath and its momentum.
The second knight uses his shield to shove the monster back further, and then stabs at him with a sword not much longer than the one I chose. The monster swings one of his empty hands, and knocks both knights halfway across the room. They flounder, trying to get back on their feet in their heavy, ungainly armor. I flinch, watching the impact. This is terrible!
The whipping tail comes around and nearly hits another knight, who cannot get out of the way. The biggest knight saves him, slamming his claymore into the claw and knocking it back at the monster. With a howl of pain, the monster grabs at the sword, and swings a massive club at the knight. The knight slices off all of the fingers on the monster's one hand, and he lets out a high, angry shriek..
The battle continues, knights and monster exchanging blows, but it soon becomes clear that we need more knights. The monster is able to stand up to terrible damage, and though the knights are armored well, their armor is slowing them down. I am sobbing with fear and anger as he batters my friends. Soon, he will take one of them down who will not get back up. They are showing signs of fatigue and pain.
The only thing I can do is join the battle, and I'm not very confident that the addition of my hand is going to make much difference. The smallest of my knights is head, shoulders, and chest taller than me. All I have is a glorified dagger, and barely a hint of armor.
Then, there is a break in the action. The monster pounds his way through the line and charges at me. I brace myself, ready to slash at him with the short sword, but I know that there is no way this little toy is going to stop anything that big.
The knights attack from the side, and the monster twists and turns, shoving and throwing them aside with his hands. One knight manages to disarm the hand on his side that is holding a club. On the other side, three knights grab one arm. The monster stretches toward me with his free hands, and wraps that tail around one of the knights. They let go of his arm to help their comrade, and he lunges toward me. I am so startled that I drop the sword.
Thinking quickly, I grab two of the fingers on the hand closest to me and pull as hard as I can, leaning back and hauling his weight around to my left. The monster stumbles, staggers, and falls forward past me as I let go. I have to jump away to the side to avoid getting hit by his flailing legs and that tail, which has whipped its way loose from the knight. I grab the sword and bring it down as hard as I can, not on the monster's back, but on the back of its ankle, slicing through the tendon. The muscle above it immediately snaps up, and the monster screams. Before it can react more than to draw into almost a face-down fetal position, I slice the other ankle, too, and then slash the sword across both of its exposed butt-cheeks. Dark, thick blood oozes from the wounds. It looks like half set up black cherry gelatin.
The knights thrash forward pounce on the creature, bashing and stabbing, before it can get to its knees. That tail comes down into the crowd, but one gauntleted hand grabs it and with a jerk, breaks it off. Then, it's all over, and the pommel of that claymore is sticking out of the back of the beast.
At that moment more knights arrive, bursting in through two big wooden doors at the other end of the room. With them is a lady about my age, who is a little taller than me. She's kind of muscular for a woman, but not so much that she looks like a man. She runs over to me and grabs me by the arms. She looks me over like a mom checking out a kid who just missed getting hit by a car. Her face looks worried.
Her hair is really long, hanging down around her like a golden shawl. She is wearing something that looks like a simplistic but elegant prom dress, and she has jewelry all over. She seems both relieved and disappointed. She proclaims thanks to multiple deities that we are all uninjured, though with the knights that statement is slightly questionable. At least no one was hit by the poison tail, but the men are definitely beaten up.
When I look at her, I realize that I have to go back through that passageway. The longer I am here, the more this place feels like the place where I belong, but if I stay, there will be many more monsters, and many more battles, and they will get hurt. She does not want me to go, but she does not want me to stay, either.
I pull the mask off and lay it on that little table. The woman lays one hand on my cheek and opens her mouth to say something.
This morning, I woke before she could get the words out. I've had this dream periodically from shortly before my teen years. Back then, the lady was just a girl. She didn't have quite as much jewelry, and her hair was shorter.
The last thing she always does is ask me if I am going to stay this time. I can't remember ever having the dream without that happening, except when I am awakened before she speaks to me.
Often, the dream goes past that point. I tell her that I have to go back, until I learn what it is that draws "them" to me. Until I can solve that problem, I am a danger to everyone here. It isn't always the same monster as the one I dreamed of last night, but it is always something horrible and scary.
My friend always insists that I at least have some time, and she is right. I can stay there for a few hours without incident, especially since we've just defeated one. Another won't come along for days.
If I don't wake up before we are done talking, a dinner is laid out, and though the knights are banged up and bruised, we all sit down at this long table and eat. There is an amazing amount and variety of foods at this meal, every thing I've ever eaten and enjoyed. Needless to say, if I get to the dinner, I totally pig out. If I do not wake up before then, I always wake up at some point during that feast, but I can't feel too badly about it. I know they expect me to disappear.
It seems odd to me that in these dreams, I always run to this place, at first to escape, then to receive help, yet at the end, I always have to leave to avoid further endangering everyone there. It seems to me that I've ended up there that way many times, yet it doesn't make sense to me that I would go there when I'm being chased if I'm worried about the safety of those people. Once or twice, there's been some hint or inkling that there is a reason, something to do with having control over where the monster goes and who encounters it... but I've never come to any definitive conclusion, and I still run there whenever I have that dream.
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