But Mandy wasn’t me. She hadn’t just lost a child. I looked at the needle and syringe again. “So, how much are you giving me?”
“Just enough.” He dabbed a dark yellow liquid on my right shoulder and placed the tip of the needle against my bare skin. “You’ll feel a small prick,” he said. “I’m giving you ten milligrams of Oxazepam. You’ll be in a trancelike state, but you’ll also be partially awake at the same time. It will feel real while you’re in there, but you’ll know it’s a dream. I want you to experience every moment.” He squeezed down on the syringe.
I grimaced and stirred in the chair, tugging against the straps over my wrists. Moments later, my head became very light, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. My body twitched, and I feared for my safety, almost as if something were hunting me, refusing to quit until I was dead. I tugged harder against the straps. My eyes blinked over and over as the paranoia gripped me.
I screamed and spun my head in every direction. I felt Jarrod place his arm on my shoulder. Then he moved into my line of sight. His broad face and genuine smile helped ease my tension.
“Relax,” he said. “Just breathe and imagine you’re somewhere safe.”
I took numerous deep breaths and closed my eyes. I went back to my wedding day and the moment Kevin had said, ‘I do.’ He looked so handsome as he held my hands in his. The happiness in his eyes was obvious. Behind me was our beautiful daughter, Madeline, in a white bridesmaid’s dress. She was only six but looked so grown up. Her long dark hair made her hazel eyes more prominent.
But something different happened. Madeline’s smile vanished and she started crying. As the crying grew worse, I pulled away from Kevin and rushed toward her. As I got closer, she fell to the ground. I screamed, but just then I saw Jarrod’s face. He repeatedly called my name. I glanced right and saw the Kyso looking down at me with its cold, blank stare. The light in the room was dimmer. I continued twisting my head in all directions, trying to find my daughter. But she wasn’t there. She would never be with me in the flesh again.
“You’re safe, Rachel,” Jarrod said.
I struggled to open my eyes. My body was so weak that I couldn’t feel my arms or legs.
“Just try and relax,” Jarrod said. “You’re safe here. Nothing will harm you.” He held a gray helmet that glowed with a translucent light all around it. He placed it over my head and squeezed down on the sides. It clamped against my temples. White light clouded my vision. I grew dizzy. I felt as if someone had poured acid down my throat. I wanted to vomit but stopped myself.
A panel at the front of the helmet retracted up. The blinding light was gone and I could see the numerous tables around me. Jarrod walked out of the room again. I just wished he would finish the treatment so I could take my medicine and go home. But he was right; we had to discover the source of my nightmares. My body returned to a state of calm minutes later, and I felt myself drifting away.
Click! Click! Click!
The rain lashed against my face. It fell harder than it had in months.
Where am I?
I looked toward the ground and saw hail stones. I spun around and looked for shelter. There were a number of floating ones a few yards from me, beside my favorite shoe shop. I was downtown. I rushed toward the shelters, but my legs felt like lead—heavy and fatigued. I reached down and took my heels off and started to sprint. But the shade didn’t draw any closer and the rain beat down harder.
I was gasping for breath, wanting to stop and pant but pushing myself on and on.
Click! Click! Click!
The rain stopped. The thick rays of the sun covered me instead. I looked into the sky and smiled. When I lowered my gaze again, I was no longer on the streets of downtown L.A. Instead, acres of fresh grass surrounded me, with apple trees everywhere.
Now where am I?
I took steady steps forward until the loud cries of large birds taking to the sky startled me. They had sharp beaks, dark, leathery wings and white underbellies. They looked like a bird that had roamed the skies when I was a little girl—the hawk.
They rose higher and higher before descending again, except this time there seemed to be more of them. There were hundreds of them, thousands maybe. They charged down at me. I trembled and took many steps back. They drew closer with each second. I could feel their eyes pierce my stomach. I knew they were only seconds away.
Click! Click! Click!
The noise ceased. The skies were completely clear, and nothing but silence engulfed me. I glanced at my trembling hands and feet, unable to move an inch. Then I heard a different kind of noise. It sounded like the chirping of woodpeckers.
I took another step forward, steadily calming my breathing. A sea of butterflies flew toward me. The chirping ceased almost simultaneously. I turned to run but instead faced them. They were beautiful, quite different from some of the more familiar species I knew of. These were pale green, with small black dots across their entire bodies.
They flew around me without invading my space. Almost like a hurricane of cute butterflies around little old me. I laughed broadly and took a few steps forward. They moved in unison, never actually brushing against me. I charged ahead, and so did they. I wondered what it would look like to someone watching, a grown woman playing kids games with a sea of beautiful butterflies. I continued running. My eyes went from open to shut, open to shut.
Click! Click! Click!
A chill swept through my bones. I couldn’t feel the warmth of the butterflies around me anymore and the sky had darkened. Gone was the beautiful green grass. I now stood within a dense forest, except that the trees had no leaves. It looked like a place that had not seen sunlight in a decade. I looked into the sky and saw a crescent moon, except it was green. This certainly wasn’t home.
A ghastly growl startled me. It sounded fiercer than a lion’s roar. I breathed faster and faster. The sound returned, but louder this time. Twigs broke in the distance. There was also the sound of approaching feet. Whatever was out there, I was sure it wasn’t human. I kept telling myself I was in a dream and couldn’t get hurt. I just longed to get to wherever my dream was taking me and maybe understand the significance of everything I was seeing. But a cloud of doubt crept into my mind. What if all this was real? I picked up a thick branch and squeezed it with both hands.
The shuffling stopped and my hands trembled. I tightened my grip on the branch and waited. Something stirred in the distance between two trees. A howl came from the same direction. I was definitely not alone. I leaned forward and watched the space between the trees.
Bright red eyes opened and closed before staring straight at me, wide-eyed. I dropped the branch and tumbled to the ground after trying to take a step back. The eyes drifted closer and closer. Then I saw sharp white teeth. The creature—whatever it was—walked into the glow of the moon, and I saw that it was on all fours. It looked like a disfigured antelope. Its long frame was covered in sharp green scales that protruded four feet from its body. They slithered like eels. The horns on the creature’s head curved forward past its eyes. Its red eyes had a black line down the middle.
I swallowed with a dry throat and glanced behind me. The forest seemed to have no end.
But I’ve got to try. God knows, I’ve got to try.
I stood back up, spun around and ran. I heard a loud shriek and then the ground trembled. I knew I couldn’t outrun it, but I couldn’t just stay there and let it devour me, even if it was only a dream.
I can’t be sure anyway.
I heard teeth snapping behind me. The sound drew closer and closer. My legs felt heavy again. Insects appeared everywhere. Some bit at my shins and ankles. I swiveled left and right, trying my utmost to weave out of the creature’s way. After a sharp change of direction, I saw the creature get itself in a tangle after leaping toward the spot where I had just been. It wanted my blood.
I continued running, but a thick branch on the ground caught my left leg and I fell. I spun around and saw the creature’s feet in the air, its mouth open. I screamed as loud as I could and closed my eyes. My racing heart then took over.
Click! Click! Click!
I felt something yanking against my white shirt. Why wasn’t I dead yet? I opened my eyes to see pretty blue irises staring at me. It was Madeline, my … d—dead daughter. But why here? Why now? Why would she come to such a ghastly place? She pulled my shirt again, urging me to get up without saying a word. I rose and wiped dirt from my clothes. The green moon was still in the sky. Madeline took a step back and folded her arms, studying me.
I walked toward her and knelt down. “It’s me, honey. It’s Mommy.”
She looked at me and shook her head. Her eyes turned cold and lifeless. She clenched her hands.
I frowned and took a step back.
Can that really be my daughter?
“Who are you?” I demanded.
The girl laughed and took a step forward.
“Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” the girl said in a deep husky voice, one far too old for such a young mouth. That was definitely not my Madeline but something nasty and evil.
“You’re not real,” I said. “This is only a dream. My daughter is dead. You’re sick. Leave her body alone, whoever you are. Let her rest in peace.”
“But how often have you seen me in your dreams?” the deep voice rumbled again. “I’m very real.” The girl who looked like Madeline stepped forward until her feet were inches from mine. She leaned to my right ear and whispered, “In time you shall know everything, and you’ll beg to return here to me.” She stepped back and laughed.
I stared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The girl continued laughing and then abruptly stopped. She lunged to her knees, but she didn’t seem to do it on purpose. It was as if some unseen force had caused it. She tilted her neck up and screamed. White light surrounded her head, which looked like it would disintegrate. Her neck grew at least three feet from her shoulders. I put my hands over my mouth and sobbed. My daughter or not, Madeline was possibly in there somewhere and her screams were all I could hear.
The girl floated in the air. The same sharp green scales I’d seen on the creature before covered her arms and legs. Then they burst through her clothes and spread across her whole body. The light around her face disappeared. The scales were all over her head as well, like a pack of snakes. She landed on the ground, now at least seven feet tall.
She laughed at me and then her eyes retracted into her head, leaving a big gaping hole. I screamed as loud as I could and clenched my fists. A revolting noise similar to ripples in an algae-infested swamp then filled my ears.
Pearl-black eyes emerged from the gap in her head where eyes used to be. They continued protruding out, stopping about three feet away from her face and looking like a cucumber. Her cry no longer sounded human but like that of something as evil as evil could get. She charged at me. I couldn’t run this time. I screamed so loud it felt like my eardrums would burst.
Click! Click! Click!
The cold water that entered my eyes stung for a second. My body was covered in sweat, but the creature was gone. I wasn’t in the forest anymore.
“Rachel. Rachel,” I heard someone say. I tried to move my hands but felt the restraints. I remembered where I was. I kept my eyes shut for almost ten seconds. When I opened them, Jarrod was flashing a small torch in front of my eyes.
Chapter Three
I
walked through my front door and opened a silver cupboard on the right-hand wall of the corridor. I grabbed a glass and filled it with the thick medicine Jarrod had given me. I gulped it down and sighed. I had maybe three days’ worth before I’d need more. I wished they’d prescribed me one that would have lasted at least a week. I stood completely still. My hands still trembled as they had when I left Jarrod’s building and when the taxi picked me up ten minutes later. Things hadn’t gone like he said they would. I didn’t have the same dream I always had but one much more terrifying.
Madeline had never changed into a grotesque monster before. I had remained still after Jarrod brought me back to reality. My hands shook for minutes while he tried to reassure me.
“Whatever the dream signified,” he said, “you’ve wiped it out now. I doubt you’ll be having that dream again.”
I smiled at him and drank from the glass of water the Kyso held in front of me. I didn’t care what he told me—the dream was too real. I could feel every bit of it.
I dismissed the thoughts that plagued my mind and looked around my apartment. It was much too quiet. Kevin wasn’t due home for another hour, but our apartment was never this quiet. Living on the twentieth floor was enough to shield us from the noise of the cars outside that soared a hundred feet into the air, but we could usually hear the constant loud music from many of the apartments on our floor. Now, though, all was silent.
I walked ahead. The moving ceiling lights followed my every movement. When I reached the door leading to the living room, I heard a clicking noise. The wall opposite our long six-seater couch began opening up, section by section. I watched until a large hole formed, followed by the emergence of a hundred-inch flat-screen TV from within the wall. It floated in the air. A metallic rod hooked it to the foundation it extended from, as if a flexible piece of string.