Friday, September 10, 2010

Dreaming of Evil Again

I don't know why I'm so often hunting or being chased by something evil in my dreams. It just happens. Here's one from a few weeks back, where I dreamed about trying to keep my buddy safe from demons, and perhaps the Devil himself. Hope you enjoy as an opening to Halloween Season 2010!

It was late afternoon. The day was sunny and cool. I was walking through a nursing home in a suburban town. Well, more like I was sneaking through it. It was all a one-floor structure. There was an obscenely large number of people roaming the halls - nurses, visitors, etc. I was suspicious of each and every one of them. Did they know who I was, what I was doing there? Did they recognize me?

Eventually, I located a room that seemed familiar, and knew it would help me find what I was looking for. Inside, a nurse was putting sheets on an empty bed. The room looked vacant; I guess she was prepping it for a new guest of the facility. There was a quick conversation between me and her that I basically didn't hear, but here was the gist: I asked her something, and she seemed to recognize me for what or who I was (whatever or whoever that is). She warned me of something, like a threat. I asked her something else, much more fiercely. She answered. The whole thing at this point seemed that she was either evil or knew enough about the evil folks to tell me it was useless to resist or go through with my crazy plan. Then again, she asked, why was I here? Holy shit, was I there because something important was there? Freakoutfreakoutfreakout. She tried to run away, and I wasn't about to let her, but there was chaos down the hall. Damnit, they had found me. I had either been followed or someone had spotted me.

I raced back the way I had come - toward the main lobby and entrance. I could hear angry yelling, like newcomers arriving and demanding answers from the people there. People were scurrying down the hall past me, eager to get away. I realized then that the noise was coming toward me. I cast around, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn't escape, and I hadn't found what I had been looking for. Up and down the hall, doors were open, and frightened face peered out. Except one room, on the left, near the lobby. In an inspired moment, I rushed toward the door, praying it was unlocked. Fortunately, it was, and I threw myself inside, slamming the door shut again just as the cacophony outside reached that part of the hall.

In the room, I found my John, standing next to a desk, looking as if he expected to be shot or stabbed on the spot. He didn't know me, whoever I was. We had a short conversation, where John essentially asked if I was there to kill him. I responded that I was actually there to save him. John wanted me to explain further, but at that moment, the noise outside rose to nothing short of how Hell itself must sound. Something had arrived. HE had arrived. From the hall, all was a roar of violence and anguished screams. It was overwhelming, and for a moment, I froze. I had not expected HIM to arrive.

"Out the window!" I hissed, regaining myself. John just looked at me as if I had asked him to cut off his own hand. "Now!" I bellowed. In a moment, John had thrown open the window and thrown himself outside. I was directly behind him and didn't look back.

I felt only slight relief as we crossed the manicured lawn of the nursing home and trekked into a maze of backyards. "We got away, right? What was that?" John asked over his shoulder, pressed forward by the fact that I kept moving at a brisk pace right behind him.

I chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't know how you drew HIS ire without knowing who HE is, man, but HE is pure evil. HE is like the king of all demons and evil men." Seeing Johnr disbelieving look over Johnr shoulder, I pressed on, telling the horrors that HE could commit and the powers HE possessed. I went on for some time, directing John through back yards, only crossing streets when absolutely necessary, as dusk began to approach. As I finished the litany, I mentioned, "...and HE can take and control regular people, as long as they're inclined enough in their hearts to become evil or commit horribly evil acts."

"How do you mean?" John asked. As if to answer, a dozen teenage kids on bikes and on foot, holding flashlights, guns, and anything sharp they seemed able to find, came rushing toward us between two houses, screaming both wordlessly and in simple shouts such as "Get them!" and "There they are!" Their eyes seemed glossy and dead. And it was very bad that they were so close we could see that much detail.

We ran. I can't even say how we eluded them. At one point, we pulled a half a block awy from them, and they lost track of us. We cut out from yards to cross a street, only to find a man there walking alongside his bike. The moment he saw us, his face went slack and all his energy seemed to flow from him. Then, he took in a huge breath and howled at us. In the distance, the growing mob seemed to answer in kind and approach. I ran up to the man, with his bike between us. He reached over the bike, as if to grab me like a zombie. But, I kicked out and connected with the bike, knocking the man to the ground. Kicking him again heavily in the head, I dashed back to John, grabbed his arm, and we began to run again.

About two blocks away, I noticed an empty house for sale. We ran around the back, lucky to discover that someone had left the back door open. We snuck inside, ducked behind the kitchen counter and waited for hours, hearing the neighborhood search for us. Among the searchers, we could tell there were...others. Probably those who had originally rushed into the nursing home. Large men, if that was what they were. Their voices boomed. We could feel their presence through the walls of the house.

A few hours more, and we finally relaxed. All had gone quiet. The search was over, or the people lay in wait. We weren't sure which, but I was confident that if we could stay hidden until dawn, everything would be ok. Something about dawn was powerful for us. We snuck through the dark of the house, making our way to the living room, where we planned to take turns sleeping for the night. The room had a skylight, and just as John fell asleep and I took the first watch, I noticed a shadow pass over the square of light on the floor, cast by the moon. Looking up, I saw something that looked like a man crossed with a bat. It thumped twice as it stepped around the skylight, but froze as it saw me.

"Up! Run!" I said. John jumped up and we scrambled out the back door. It was silent outside, which was terrifying - I couldn't tell where the enemy would be coming from. We made our way up a rise to the suburban street. Nothing stirred within the circle of a streetlight's glow. Then we heard a sound and dropped, pressing ourselves to the perfectly cut and now dew-covered lawn. I risked a quick glance over the rise and saw my friend Mark's Pontiac pull up, him in the driver's seat, and his wife in the passenger seat. The car stopped, her window rolled down, and Mark shouted, "Get in!"

John hesitated. "What if they're...his?" he asked. From looking at them, I was fairly confident they were not. They didn't seem half lifeless. On the contrary, they were emphatic that we get in the car as quickly as possible. So we got up and climbed into the back seats. Still, as the car sped us away, onto highways that would hopefully take us to safety, I couldn't help but wonder if HE had gained the ability of a new type of possession, where his minions seemed more normal than half-zombies. Saying nothing, and watching the night highway pass by, I began planning...just in case.

7 comments:

Bali Tour said...

nice blog

Hugh Betcha said...

Exellent writing. You have become quite adept at writing narrative. Congratulations on having the self-discipline that I lack. I, too, suffer from being plagued by dreams of evil characters. I once had Tony Soprano screaming in my face for beating him at golf. He made it impossible not to and I thought I was a deadman. Here is another example When Evil Wears a Pretty Face. I would enjoy hearing what you think.

Hugh Betcha said...

Kevin21, quit pimping the shoes and handbags. THIS IS A BLOG not a billboard.

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