That was when I realized I was dreaming. One of those strange, body-swapping dreams.
I took a glance around the room and it felt somehow... familiar, though I’d never set foot in this place before.
The walls were painted a light sage, the large couch and matching chair also a variance of green. Even the gingham curtains were green.
Gingham.
Dread zipped down my spine, like death itself was playing me like a xylophone.
No, this couldn’t be happening. Not again!
I hadn’t put any potions in the diffuser. I hadn’t anointed myself with anything. Usually I didn’t dream! So, how could I be dreaming this nightmare again? And why?
Something creaked in the hallway, and the body I was currently sharing was slow to turn. The man was tired. Bone-weary, like he’d been moving heavy things all day and just couldn’t force himself to budge another inch. He nearly jumped out of his skin though when a shape appeared in the doorway.
It was monstrously large and dark, looking like a shadow as it entered the room. But as the man (and I) watched, the shadows began to delineate themselves into lines and the lines formed the shape of something… hideous.
Its shoulders were wide enough that it had to slant its body sideways and stoop to enter the room. Even in the darkness (the gingham curtains were drawn to keep away the light from a street lamp just outside), I could see the immense size of the beast and the breadth of its chest. A slice of the night sky was visible through the curtains, curtains that danced in the breeze from the open window, fluttering as though nothing was the matter.
The creature had russet fur, and, in the low light, I could see ribs standing out against the dark skin of its belly. It looked emaciated, bony, despite its immense size. Something scraped the ceiling as it moved toward us. I glanced up, and in the brief flickering from the light of the street, I could see a massive pair of horns.
It was the same creature from the graveyard. The same creature from my last nightmare.
“Time to wake up,” the creature said—it was the same thing it said the first time I had the nightmare. But, this time, the voice wasn’t deep and monstrous. Instead, the words came out jarring and shrill, like talons raked across a chalkboard. Goosebumps strained at my skin. My eyes burned. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t even breathe.
“No,” the man said, and I felt my mouth open along with his.
“Give me what you promised!” the thing yelled, voice now a deep growl.
“I promised you nothing!” the man yelled at it.
And then the thing was on me, us, throwing one clawed hand through the air toward us.
It didn’t make contact.
Before the thing could strike, the tightness in my chest increased, like a band being pulled taught. A pain shot through my arm, sharp and sudden. I felt my mouth drop open as I stared at the thing before me. And then I saw the glinting of a jewel hanging around its neck—something blood red. A ruby.
The same one I’d given my wife.
His wife… so that meant his wife had probably killed him.
My heart was going a mile a minute, black spots danced across my vision. I choked, unable to draw in air and then...
I bolted upright in bed, hands flying to my throat as if to pry loose an invisible stranglehold. It took my body a moment to realize it could breathe. That my heart wasn’t actually seizing up. I tugged my knees up to my chest, wrapping my shaking arms around them.
I lost control of the dream again, I said to myself, shaking my head. I lost control again! That wasn’t supposed to happen. Not again. I knew how to take control and pull myself out! So, why hadn’t I?
My body was slicked with sweat. A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the house made goosebumps rise on my arms, once again. I glanced over and saw Finn sound asleep, which was a relief.
But it was the only relief.
I should never have had the nightmare twice, I reminded myself. I should have been able to wake myself up—I knew I was dreaming. I should have been able to take control… but, instead, the nightmare had taken control of me. Again.
Unless it wasn’t actually a nightmare...
I was starting to believe the dream was less of a nightmare and more of a vision. Visions were different to dreams. Dreams were entirely dependent on your subconscious. Visions, however, were like short and pithy vignettes depicting something from the past or the future. And while dreams were random, visions weren’t always. Sure, you might randomly receive a vision in a psychic moment, but more often than not, visions were sent. They were specific and they were intended.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to stabilize my breathing and the thundering of my heart.
If this truly was a vision, that meant that somewhere, at some point, what I’d seen in the nightmare had actually happened. Something awful had come for this person. And whatever the creature was, I was fairly sure it had killed him. A fatal night terror? Maybe. But I wasn’t so sure...
Because I’d seen that creature before. In the graveyard and in my nightmare just one night earlier.
Monsters aren’t real, Poppy! I reminded myself.
There was that. So maybe whatever this entity was, it was just presenting itself as a horrendous beast? That was possible. If entities were strong enough, they could present themselves however they wanted to. And, clearly, this one intended to bully the man into submission. What better way to do so than scaring him half to death? Or… all the way to death?
Yes, I was convinced I was receiving this nightmare purposely. That is to say, someone was trying to reach me. But who? And why? I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the man, himself?
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if maybe whatever had happened to the man had happened in this house? Was this place truly haunted, as Finn feared? I hadn’t sensed anything other than a few cold spots when we’d first moved in, but that didn’t mean anything. Sometimes spirits took their time manifesting.
What if I’d moved us into a home where another violent murder had occurred? This one by some sort of… creature?
Monsters aren’t real, I had to tell myself… again.
I know, but…
No buts! Monsters aren’t real!
Then what was that thing? And why did I keep dreaming about it? And why had I seen it in the graveyard?
It’s just an entity presenting itself as a monster. It’s nothing more than negative energy festering, growing stronger.
There aren’t any such things as monsters.
I curled up in my bed and tried to get back to sleep. I had to get a grip. If there was a spirit in this house, I would find a way to banish it, just like I’d done to the last one.
“I’ve done it before, I can do it again,” I whispered to myself.
But the pit of dread in my stomach refused to budge. It wasn’t convinced.
At the sound of buzzing, I reached over to see my phone lighting up from where it sat on my side table. Unlocking it, I realized I had a text from Marty.
Poppy! It read. Just wanted to check to see if you wanted to get together maybe early next week so we could talk shelves and brochures for the shop and banishment potions?
Sure. I texted back.
Awesome! Maybe we could chat about it over dinner at Half-Moon?
Was he asking me out? On a date? I wasn’t sure, but also didn’t want to assume. Maybe he was just being a kind neighbor. Yeah, I’d go with that. It was easier to swallow. That sounds great, but I’ll have Finn.