Chimerical

 
Part 1


You're asleep, at home in bed. The new mattress is just the way you like it, the pillow is fluffed and the sheets are fresh on. It's been a hard, long day, but a good one. You got much done, including a few errands that had been pending. The day was crisp but sunny, perfect for walking in town.

Dinner was good, even healthy. You had a hot shower, and managed to fall asleep at a reasonable hour. When you wake up tomorrow, you'll be able to kick ass all over again. Knowing that as your eyes closed put a small smile on your face. And now you are in such a deep, replenishing sleep. If science invents a method in which any one night could be duplicated for future rests, this is surely it.

Which is why it is so unfair when the old woman shuffles in, and wakes you up with a muffled cackle.

"Ah, here."

Your eyes fly open. What was that?

"Don' mind, jus' here."

Your entire body has flexed and you find yourself willing muscles to move.

"Jus' gon' have lil rest."

You are still trying to get your legs to swing down and your arms free of the covers, when your gut twists, repulsed. You realize that this shuffling, hunched shadow is trying to get into bed with you.

Your vocal chords finally give way, and you shout, "Get out, get out!"

You reach out and slam the light switch on, and breath in gulps. The room is empty. You leap up and switch more lights on, and check behind the curtain, down the hall, in the wardrobes – each dark corner is erased when you turn on every lamp and light in the house.

There is no one there. You stand against the wall and look around again. Your breath slows down. Well, of course. It must have been a dream – a horrible one, one of your most vivid and gripping nightmares, but not real. You look down and realise you have one heavy boot in hand, the first thing you grabbed for a weapon.

You check the windows and locks, then decide to watch some TV. The volume is on low as you listen to the normal house noises, gulping some brandy while your heart rate returns to normal. You check the time, but it is too late to call anyone. So you talk to yourself, wanting to hear a voice, any other voice than the one that woke you up, which is still echoing in your head.

"Been a long time since I remembered dreams. What did I eat before bed, anyway?"

Eventually, you tire and decide to return to bed. You leave quite a few lights on, and you wonder if you'll be able to sleep. The adrenalin hangover has left you in lumps and knots.

You enter the hallway. What is that smell? You step towards the bathroom, and sense cool tiles and a faint scent of cleaning spray. The smell is not coming from here. You check behind the shower curtain – yep, the window is locked.

When you reach your room, the air feels warmer, and the stench is stronger. It reminds you of summer road drains where a rat has died and months without rain leaves it in the sewer, bloated and stinking. Something rustles by the armchair near the window. You whip your head around, slamming your shoulders against the open door, eyes wide open.


•• Part 2 coming soon ••