Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous V

The following was recorded by Doctor Curtis McGregor and reviewed by the District Court as per the conditions of the deal between the Prosecution and Defendant, Sebastian Jericho.

Sebastian Jericho Therapy Session #2: Present are Doctor McGregor and Sebastian Jericho.

“I’m glad you decided to come back Sebastian. I hope your holidays are going well.”

“Holidays? Oh right, Christmas and all that.”

“You mean you didn’t know? You haven’t heard the carols in the mall, seen the people shopping, or felt the Christmas spirit?”

“Do you know what would happen if I went into a mall? I would be swarmed to death by screaming teens.”

“Oh right, that whole fame thing.”

“You seem kind of different doc; less uptight.”

“Well I figured that our last session’s difficulties may have been just as much my fault as yours, so I decided to throw the book out the window, as it were, and just try talking to you.”

“Yeah well we’ll see how that goes I guess. Ok doc, ask what you wanna ask.”

“Why’d you stop writing music?”

“Wow you really go right for the kill don’t you?”

“Why beat around the bush?”

“I guess. Well I stopped writing because…wait what does this have to do with my court order? I thought I was here because I beat up some guy?”

“The two are very related I think. And you know it too; you’re just trying to avoid the question.”

“Still beating around the bush after all; nice attempt at a segue though. Ask me your real question.”

“Tell me about your late wife.”

“Alicia.”

“How did you two meet?”

“We met in high school, at a friend’s karaoke party. The two of us brought the house down. We were inseparable ever since.”

“Keep going.”

“We started dating, and after high school we got serious about music. We put a band together, and we got signed to a label almost instantly. It was nuts, and to tell you the truth, I never would have gotten through everything that was going on had she not been there.”

“So she was your rock; your pillar of support.

“Yeah…”

“What was she like?”

“She was really down to earth, very cool and collected all the time. She was the total opposite of me. She used to say that I was always looking so far forward while she was making sure I didn’t trip over what was right in front of me. But she was really driven. She had a goal in mind, and there was no stopping her. I really admired her for that, that quiet strength and determination.”

“Well Sebastian I can honestly say that I am pleasantly surprised. I thought I’d have to fight a lot harder for that information.”

“Me too, to be honest. Maybe it’s that Christmas spirit you were talking about.”

“Maybe. Next session I want to continue this discussion if you don’t mind. I think that there is a lot here that we can work with.”

“Yeah we’ll see. No promises.”

“Oh and Sebastian, put more effort into your journal. It’s meant to be an outlet for your thoughts and feelings so you don’t explode again. Not for critiquing episodes of Dexter, or writing down ‘Funny Stuff Michael Scott Said.’

“Hey there’s some good stuff there, it deserves to be remembered.”

“No, no it really doesn’t.”

“Aw you see doc, this is why we’ll never be friends.”

“See you next session, Sebastian.”

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous IV

Dear Diary:

No that doesn’t sound stupid at all. I feel like a whiny teenager.

Although I am kinda whiny, and my target demographic are teenagers; okay Sebastian, get your head in the game here.

I’m continuing this really dumb journal because if I don’t my lawyer promises I will go to jail whereupon I will be shower-raped.

Well he didn’t put it quite like that but…oh wait, yes he did.

But he didn't tell me what I should be writing about.

So here I am sitting in my hotel room, debating what the hell should be written in here.

I kinda wish I hadn't made so much fun of that therapist, I bet he would know what I’m supposed to be writing.

Ooh Dexter is on right now.

Gotta go Diary, Dexter needs me.

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous III

“So let me get this straight, even after you paid me a small fortune so that I could beat an aggravated assault charge and get you only a teeny little slap on the wrist…”

“It’s hardly a slap on the wrist…”

“I’m still talking Sebastian.”

“…”

“Even after getting a small slap on the wrist, you instead make a mockery of your therapist and then leave fifty five minutes early.”

“Um… well that makes it sound…”

“It makes it sound pretty fucking stupid is what it makes it sound like. Do you know how close you were to doing serious time? The prosecution was going to make an example out of you Sebastian. They wanted you to serve as a reminder that just because someone is rich and famous, they can't ignore the law.”

“Oh come on, the guy was an asshole anyway, I mean who really…”

“Serious time, Sebastian. But I was able to work it down to a deal that, I think, is pretty generous considering.”

“Generous?”

“Yes generous! You kicked the unholy hell out of one of your fans for exercising his right to freedom of speech, and got it all over every type of media there is! You are not hard done by here! You are actually getting off pretty god damn easy.”

“Okay fine, so what…?

“You keep writing in that little book, starting each new page with tear stains and a ‘Dear Diary,’ and you go back to that therapist, and you take him seriously. That is what you do.”

“We done now? I can’t believe I’m paying you for this…”

“Yes we’re done, and damn right you’re paying me, I’m the only thing between you and the biggest, meanest, horniest son of a bitch in the prison shower.”

“You're a really mean person you know that?”

"Of course I am, anyone else trying to defend your idiocy would be eaten alive. Now go home, I have work to do."

Dear Diary: Today my lawyer yelled at me.

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous II

So now that Sebastian Jericho is back in play, I am inspired to continue his back-story, plus I wanted to write another pure dialogue story, so this was a good excuse. Here's Part II.

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous II

The following was recorded by Doctor Curtis McGregor and reviewed by the District Court as per the conditions of the deal between the Prosecution and Defendant, Sebastian Jericho.

Sebastian Jericho Therapy Session #1: Present are Doctor McGregor and Sebastian Jericho.

“So tell me doc, isn’t this the very same office where that one guy swan dived out the window and caused his therapist to go batshit?”

“Sebastian...”

“Cause I gotta tell you, that kinda puts a damper on this whole ‘let’s open up and share our feelings’ thing we got here. Like a black cloud you know?”

“Sebastian please sit down...”

“You’re not gonna go all loopy on me are you doc? Like this office isn’t cursed or anything is it?”

“Sebastian...”

“Although if I went nuts and leapt out the window then I wouldn’t have to do this god awful court ordered deal I got going.”

“Please just...”

“Then again, if I went out the window, who’d sing all my songs? Who’d entertain my millions and millions of fans? They are a greedy bunch, and I don’t blame them. I’ve been giving them the best music in history for years and now they’re just used to it I guess.”

“SEBASTIAN SIT DOWN!”

“...”

“I’m sorry...”

“You know you’re pretty touchy. Maybe you need therapy.”

“I apologise, it’s just that...”

“You know what doc? It’s your lucky day, because Sebastian Jericho is in session. So go on, tell me what’s on your mind. What’s in your heart?”

“Oh god...”

“Come on don’t shut me out. I’m only trying to help you sort yourself out.”

“Sebastian we should be talking about you, not me.”

“Really? Cause I’m way over here in the land of sane people, and you’re way over there in loony land. Hey what’s the weather like over there? Raining, I bet.”

“Sebastian this is really...”

“Stupid? A waste of time? Useless? Totally unnecessary? I agree. Don’t get up doc, I’ll show myself out. See ya!”

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous
Just for the record, I don’t need therapy. I also think this whole journal business is bullshit. Believe me if it wasn’t court ordered I would be having none of it.

But that’s what you get when you’re a mega celebrity and you get caught doing something very stupid, and I have been doing a lot of very stupid things recently. Drugs, booze, driving way too fast, partying way too hard, basically all those really fun things that you should only really do every once in a blue moon. Except I’ve been doing them nearly every day.

For anyone reading this that isn’t me, first of all how the hell did you find this? Seriously?

Either I’m dead or the paparazzi have really stepped their game up. Not sure which would be worse. Anyways, this is Sebastian Jericho.

Yeah that’s right, pause a sec and catch your breath, let that sink in.

The Sebastian Jericho.

If you’ve been living under a rock or something then I’ll explain.

I am the lead singer and co-founder of one of the best musical acts in the world, I have more money than your entire family line combined, I own so many clubs and bars that I don’t even know where they all are anymore, and I have more screaming fans then all the douche vampire actors put together.

So yeah I’m pretty famous.

It was any other day I guess, I was heading to my hotel room after doing a brief concert, swimming through the swarms of fans and photographers and whoever the hell else, when someone yelled out that the band sucked ever since my wife left.

So I knocked him the fuck out.

Before you think my reaction was a little extreme, let me clarify. Thing is, my wife of ten years, co-founder and the band’s other lead singer, died in a plane crash last year when she was coming back from some overseas promoting.

So yeah, forgive me if maybe my music has changed a little and the band has lost one of the most defining voices of all time.

Turns out though, that the police don’t like it when you go all ape shit on a guy and it gets captured by every media device there is, even when you have a good excuse.

Thus I have to go to therapy, and do this stupid journal in which I am supposed to chronicle my day’s events until such a time when the court deems it prudent to stop.

Their words, not mine.

I’m sitting in the waiting room writing this actually, so it’s kinda two birds with one stone I guess. We’ll see how it goes, couldn’t be worse than jail right?

I should have taken the jail time.

Damn it.

The New House Epilogue

“So this isn’t so bad so far huh?” I said, trying to muster courage I didn’t feel.

Carla just gave me a blank look and shook her head.

I sighed and we continued working our way slowly toward the basement. The house was wrecked. The walls were cracked and crumbling, the roof looked like it would come down any minute, and the air was thick and heavy, like we were walking through a jungle.

This obviously wasn’t my house anymore, and now I was beginning to realize that it never really was.

We worked our way to the basement door before we stopped.

“This is it,” Carla said, taking my hand in hers. “You ready?”

I sighed and shook my head. “No, not even close. But I kinda have to be huh?”

She nodded and tried to smile. “I could take the gun if you want, you don’t have to do this.”

“What? Of course I do, you're only here because I got you into this remember?”

She nodded. “So are you ready then?”

“I...” I grinned. She had given me strength, yet again. “Yeah, I am.”

Together, we turned the handle on the door and swung it open, and proceeded down the stairs.

As bad as the air was upstairs it was a thousand times worse down here. It felt like we were underwater, and breathing down here was difficult to say the least.

The creature was making no attempt to hide itself. Leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, it turned its gaze to us and grinned ear to ear.

It was all I could do not to bolt. My body and mind were both screaming at me to get the hell out of there, that this was easily the dumbest thing I had ever done, that if we didn’t run far far away we would never leave this basement.

Carla gripped my hand, enough to hurt but it snapped me out of my near panic. I couldn’t go anywhere. Not with her with me. Here and now we would finish this.

The creature skulked toward us and I could see that it was pretty banged up. Large holes were blown through it, proving that the creature had no real body to speak of; it seemed to be made up of thick black ooze. The holes were slowly closing up though.

Cam had really had it out with this thing.

The creature was close now, its yellow eyes were gazing into mine, and though it seemed too injured to stand at its full height, it still towered over me.

“Ian...” Carla hissed, squeezing my hand.

The creature edged closer, its claws outstretching, and I knew I should run, move, shoot, do something but, looking into its eyes, I felt no danger. It was like I was falling into some sort of trance.

“Ian shoot it!” She was yelling at me, I think, but she sounded so far away.

My hands went limp, and the shotgun clattered to the floor.

The creature’s inky darkness surrounded me, and all went black.

****

I saw a five year old boy, curled up beneath the stairs, shaking with the cold. All he had was a tiny locket, which he clutched to his chest.

I saw the door open and the boy rushing to the light, felt his glimmer of hope, only to have a plate of scraps thrown to the floor and the door slammed in his face, covering him in darkness again.

I saw the boy crying for what seemed like forever.

I saw the door open less and less, until it stopped opening completely.

I saw him wasting away, getting thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker.

I saw the little boy, curled up beneath the stairs shaking with the cold, until he finally stopped. I knew he wouldn’t move again.

****

“Let him go!”

The shot was deafening and the creature threw its head back and howled with pain, releasing me from its grasp. I fell to the floor with a thud, trying to sort what I had seen.

Were those...was it showing me its memories?

I picked myself up and looked around, trying to get my bearings. The creature had recovered and charged at Carla, who quickly leapt out of the way. Carla aimed the shotgun at its head, and I could see her about to pull the trigger.

I had yelled before I even knew it.

“Stop!”

Too late.

The shot rang out and the creature howled in pain again, its clawed hand covering the wound as it fell to the floor. Later I would marvel at how good a shot she was, but for now all I could see was that little boy in so much pain.

I raced to the stairs and looked behind them; my hand groping in the darkness for what I knew would be there.

The locket. Found it.

I ran over to the creature, and knelt beside it.

“Ian what are you doing?!” Carla yelled. “Get away from it!”

“Here,” I said, showing the boy his locket. “You need to break this; it’s the only way you'll be free.”

The boy’s eyes met mine, and I could see tears welling in them, while I realized I was crying too.

The boy shook his head softly, and I could see he was trying to speak.

Suddenly I understood. He couldn’t. As much as he may want to, he couldn’t destroy the locket alone. He needed me.

That was why showed himself to me, why he let me in the basement and no one else, why he came to my room.

For Christ’s sake he was just a five year old boy. He was a five year old boy, and while he had attacked my parents, Cam, and whoever else, in me, he saw a friend.

“We can do it together,” I said, placing the locket in his open hand. “And you can go. You won't be stuck down in this basement anymore.”

The boy was crying now, and nodded slowly.

I closed my hand over his, and felt the locket crack, and finally break.

He smiled, and closed his eyes. His body sank into the shadows that formed him, and the inky blackness quickly enveloped the walls, the floor, the ceiling, covering everything but us.

Then just as suddenly, it was gone, and the air was suddenly normal.

I turned to Carla, who was watching me with tears in her eyes.

“He’s gone.”

“He...?” She said softly, “Ian what happened?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I said, standing up. “I promise I will, but for now, I just need a bit of time. Besides we should go see how Cam is doing.”

She nodded but I knew she wouldn’t let this go. Which was fine, It would probably help to talk to her about it anyway.

We walked upstairs and almost couldn’t process what we saw.

The house was normal. Like completely back to normal, maybe better even. It was just like it was.

We headed outside, and got another shock. I was way overdue for a heart attack at this rate.

“For the last time get the hell off of my property you filthy hobo!” My dad yelled, giving Cam a stiff shove. My mom was trying to calm him down, and Cam seemed to be trying to explain...well I had no idea what he was saying but my dad clearly wasn’t buying it.

I had never been happier in my life.

I grabbed Carla and held her tightly, taking in the love in her eyes and the happiness of her smile before she leaned up and kissed me.

****

So after a long and awkward conversation with my parents about how I knew Cam, (I told them he was the hobo in the basement, and that I was right and there, in fact, was somebody in the basement this whole time,) things went back to normal. Better than normal in fact.

My parents didn’t remember a thing about what had happened. They remembered right up until just before they got attacked, then as far as they were concerned the next moment they were yelling at Cam to quit skulking around our lawn.

I told Carla about what the boy had shown me, and she went with me to the library where we looked through old newspapers and online databases, trying to find out whatever we could about him. Very little information turned up, unfortunately. All we were able to find out was that the body of a small boy was found under the stairs nearly fifty years ago, two years after the house was abandoned.

They said his name was Conner.

It was something I suppose, but I had hoped for more. I wanted to know why, and it really bothered me that the answer eluded me. It bothered me that it had happened in the first place, and it bothered me that whoever kept him locked in the basement didn’t get caught.

Carla gave me the strength I needed to help lay Conner’s soul to rest though, and I can’t imagine how it would have turned out if she hadn’t been there. We stayed together throughout high school, and though our relationship has had its ups and downs, we are still together today, with no end in sight.

Actually on that note, I have been playing with a ring in my pocket for a while now, and Carla just told me she’s pregnant. I have never been happier.

We’ve already decided that if it’s a boy, we know what we are going to name him.

Apologies With Punching (The New House Part VIII)

Jesus this is bad.

I am really screwed.

Like really screwed.

God damn it where the hell is she?

To say I was on the verge of totally freaking out would be a lie. No we had gone beyond that point a long time ago. Now we were at a point past that, which I had discovered was a kind of numb, heavy feeling, where you know your heart should be pounding but it’s too tired or sore or whatever.

I had been looking for Carla for the better part of...well...of a long time. The sun had gone down a while ago, and I could barely walk but I had to find her.

She hadn’t gone home, her house was the first place I checked, but they said she had phoned them from a friend’s house so at least she was okay. Didn’t help that I had no idea who her friends were though. So I kinda wandered aimlessly, feeling really stupid and trying not to die of...well of whatever it was I was feeling.

By the time I had finally made my way back to my place, the sky was pitch black. Maybe that crazy guy had figured something out? He said he’d be waiting for me.

Oh good; of all the people to pin my hopes on.

But then I got to my place and man did my heart soar.

There was Carla, crouched over helping the homeless guy who was leaning on the steps. Wait...he didn’t look so good...oh god.

“What happened?” I asked running towards them. “Are you guys okay?”

Carla shot me easily the most terrifying look I have ever or will ever see in my life, but my eyes quickly returned to the homeless guy. He was bleeding. A lot.

“Hey punk,” he said, his voice soft, “Look who I found, crazy huh?”

“Are you alright?” I asked, somewhat foolishly but I couldn’t really help it.

“He went inside,” Carla said, not looking at me. “I told him it was a bad idea but he went anyway. He came out really roughed up.”

He laughed at that. “Roughed up? Nah this isn’t so bad, I can still breathe and all that. I was just careless. I never thought that the thing down there would be...well like me."

“Wait what?” I stared at him. “How the hell is that thing at all like you?”

“It’s what I could become,” he said. “If I lose myself to... death.”

“So not following you,” I muttered.

“Wait a minute,” Carla said, “Are you saying that you...that you’re dead?” Didn’t sound like she believed him. Not a surprise there.

“Sure am, and so is that monster under the stairs. Me and him, we used to be regular people, except we stuck around. Whoever that was died with extreme hatred, and fear. Those feelings changed him. Now he’s something else entirely. But we’re tied to something. There’s something that keeps us here, makes it so we don’t just fade away.”

“How is that even possible?” I asked. This guy got crazier and crazier. Still though, I couldn’t help but find myself trusting him. The guy just had a way about him.

“Look, this is really just the cliff notes version here but kid, there are a lot of freaky things out there, me and him; we’re just a small part. The tip of the iceberg so to speak.”

“So how do we kill something that’s already dead?” Carla asked, and I couldn’t help but look at her. She still wanted to help me.

God I suck.

“Well I tried shooting it in the face,” the man laughed, “That didn’t work so hot. You need to find out what it’s anchored to and destroy it. That’ll get it gone.”

Carla looked like she was gonna reply, but stopped. She gave the man a look then said, “You’re bleeding has stopped. How...?”

“I heal up pretty quick,” he said. “Seeing as what anchors me makes sure I stay here, no matter the damage.”

“So how do we figure out what anchors this creature?” I asked.

“I dunno,” he said, very unhelpfully. “You’re the kids who have dealt with this thing, got any ideas?”

“The locket,” Carla said quickly. “It’s tied to the locket.”

“Good,” he said, “So where’s that?”

“It has it,” I said, suddenly realizing what that meant.

“You guys like to do things the hard way huh? Look I’m still pretty banged up, I can’t fight, but the good news is that so is that thing. If you’re up to it, now is your best chance to get in there and smash that locket.”

“Us?” I asked. “You really think...?”

“If you quit your bickering and make up, yeah I do,” he said. “You kids are made of good stuff; you have what it takes to make it in this kind of world.”

If we make up...

Carla nodded, and I felt a surge of hope that maybe things could go back to the way they were.

Then she stood up, dusted herself off, walked over, and punched me across the face.

I fell flat on my ass in a very unmanly way. That really hurt.

“That’s for breaking my heart, jerk.” She held her hand out for me, “But Cam explained what you were trying to do for me so...”

I rubbed my jaw as I took her hand and she helped me up.

“I just wanted to keep you safe,” I said. “But rather than protect you I tried to get rid of you. I’ll always regret that.”

“It’s okay,” she said smiling. “I feel much better about it all now.”

Yeah I bet, wonder if her hand hurt half as much as my face.

“So...you’ll stick by me then?”

“Always.”

I smiled, ear to ear, and pulled her close. Or eyes met briefly before I couldn’t keep my lips away from hers any longer and kissed her with all I had left. She returned in kind.

“Um...still right here.”

I decided to pretend to care as I pulled away from her, still smiling. “So your name is Cam, then?” I asked him. “I thought it wasn’t important.”

“Yeah well, she saw through my mysterious bad boy charm. Now hurry up, the longer you dilly dally the more the monster recovers, and the more likely you two are to start jumping each other.”

“Thank you for everything,” Carla said. “You’ve helped us so much.”

He just nodded. “Here kid,” he said, motioning to me, “This is for you.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small double barrel, sawn off shotgun, I was hesitant to take it; I had never handled a gun before.

“You can use it with one hand but given your size I’d recommend two,” he said. “This is my own custom design; I’ve killed a lot of baddies with it so I want it back.”

I nodded and took it. “I’m not sure I...”

“Just point and shoot kid, real simple. Oh you only have two, so make them count. Use it to keep the monster off of you while you get that locket.”

I nodded again. “Thank you.”

“Whatever, hurry up and go, and try not to die yeah?”

“Try our best,” I said. I looked at Carla who nodded, eyes shining with the strength that had come to characterize her.

With one last look back at Cam, we entered the house.

The End And The Beginning (The New House Part VII)

As we walked, the world seemed to be a much different place than a few days ago. Colours seemed less vibrant, like everything was painted with just a touch of gray. The streets seemed longer, and houses seemed empty. Even the sky seemed to be wrong somehow. Everything just seemed wrong.

Carla and I leaned on each other for support. I doubted either of us could stand up on our own at the moment. I knew we had to try and figure out something, just running away wasn’t gonna solve anything, but it was all I could do to keep moving, let alone try and figure out something as complicated as a plan.

“Ian I...” Carla started, but trailed off. She had tried a few times now to speak but had quickly returned to silence. At least she could try. I wasn’t there yet.

“I’m so sorry...” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

I stopped, stopped walking for the first time in what must have been hours. And I took a good, hard look at this girl that stood beside me.

This girl who was barely fifteen years old, this girl who possessed more strength and courage then anyone I would ever meet, this girl who had just risked her life to help me, and had now walked with me to god knows what part of the city, and all I could do was ask why.

She had a home that wasn’t a monster’s playground, parents who weren’t most likely dead, she was beautiful and smart and funny and the best thing that could happen to anyone who knew her.

Which was why I didn’t deserve her.

Her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. She could barely stand from all the running. She couldn’t speak from all the terror.

I and my problems were killing her.

“Ian?” She asked, her voice still soft. She could tell that something had changed in me.

I looked at her, and uttered the most difficult words I had ever said in my life.

“We need to break up.”

She looked at me for a long time. She met my eyes with ease, and simply said, “What?”

Stay firm Ian, I told myself. This is what’s best. This will keep her safe.

“Carla,” I said, trying to keep my eyes from tearing up again. “I can’t see you anymore. You need to leave me alone, and forget you ever knew me.”

“You better be joking Ian,” she said, her eyes narrowing even as tears fell down her cheeks. “After all of this you think I can just go back to being the same person I was before? That I can just forget everything we have been through?”

“No,” I said, “But I won’t have you change any further either. You have no reason to stay with me. There’s nothing in it for you, these are my problems, and I don’t want to be responsible for what happens to you.”

“Ian! Why the hell do you think I have been helping you all this time?! For fun?! I’ve been doing it because I care about you! Because I like being with you! I’ve been at your side this whole time because I maybe even lo...”

“We barely fucking know each other!” I snapped. “All we have together is terror and pain and running! This isn’t a relationship!”

The silence was worse than the monster’s laughter.

“I...Carla I...” Oh man I messed up bad. That was not what I meant. I wanted to keep her safe, but I had truly hurt her.

“No!” she said, holding up her hands to cover her tears. “You bastard, fuck you...I ...I hate you...”

And then she was running, back the way we had come. Running away from me.

And I should have gone after her. I know that now. But at the time, I truly thought this was for the best. I did love her, I was sure about that. But more than anything at least if she hated me she would be safe.

I continued to think that as I wandered aimlessly, trying to just be able to be me again. But I was numb. I couldn’t feel a thing, couldn’t make my brain turn back on.

Until I heard the clapping behind me.

I turned around and there stood a man I will remember for as long as I live.

He was big. Not just his size, but his presence. He cut an imposing figure, bald, wearing a long black trench coat and heavy boots and a silly looking eye patch. He was dirty, and he kinda smelt. Probably living on the streets.

A homeless person. Wonderful.

And then he walked over and hit me upside the head. Not enough to hurt, it was almost as though he was scolding me.

“That’s for being stupid,” he said. His voice was full of authority. This was a man who was used to giving orders. “And for making it so damn difficult to find you, Ian.”

What?

“How do you know my name?” I asked, knowing I should have been more freaked out than I was. A crazy man just hit me on the street, and called me by name, but damned if I could care. I was just going through the motions.

“Because I’ve been watching you and your girlfriend for a while,” he said, then seemed to realize what that must have sounded like because he quickly added, “Well actually I’ve been watching your house. I just happened to see the two of you a lot while I’ve been doing so.”

“Like that’s any less weird,” I muttered. I just wanted this guy to go away, but wound up deciding to ask another question. “Why?”

He looked at me blankly. “Why do you think? Because there’s a monster in your basement. I saw you running out of your place and figured things must have come to a head so I wanted to talk to you.”

Now he had my full attention.

“How do you know about all that? How did you figure that out?”

He sighed. “You could say I’ve had experience with this sort of stuff. There are signs. I came into town about little while ago, and got a bad feeling. It took me a while, but I finally narrowed it down to your place.”

“How? You just got a feeling?” This guy was making no sense.

“Yeah,” he said, then, with a faraway look in his eye, he added, “It seems that there is no escaping my true purpose, no matter where I go.”

“O...kay mister crazy person. So what exactly is your deal?”

“Well kid,” he said, “After I quit my job a while back I’ve been wandering cross country, trying to find someone, and doing what I do best, which is killing monsters. I was gonna go kill your monster too, but after meeting you, I’ve decided not to.”

This guy was something else.

“Jesus Christ...you’re a psycho you know that?” I grumbled, but he held up a hand and cut me off.

“Because you remind me of myself, back in the day,” he said. “And if I just went ahead and killed your creepy, then I wouldn’t be able to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

I sighed, “And what might that be?”

“You serious? Man you're thick, what the hell do you think? Your pretty girlfriend has been facing some terrible monster for you, and you just kicked her to the curb. That, my little idiot, is the dumbest thing you can do when you’re going up against stuff like this.”

“What the hell can I do?!” I shouted at him. I was really starting to lose my patience. At him, at this whole damn situation.

“You fight, and you count on the people who have decided to fight beside you. Believe in their resolve, and don’t insult them by calling that into question. Regardless of what you may think of their reasons, they believe in them more than you can know.”

“Believe in...So you’re saying it was wrong of me to try and keep Carla safe?”

“Keeping her safe is one thing, but don’t tell her that she has no reason to fight for you when she so obviously does. It’s one of the worst insults you can give a person. She obviously loves you, and you obviously love her, so use that strength to your advantage.”

“It is really messed how much you seem to know about us,” I said. “What about that monster? It killed my parents, what am I supposed to do about that?”

“I don’t actually think it did,” he said. “If I’m right, there is something keeping that creature there, a purpose. Undo that and everything should go back to the way it was, including getting your parents back.”

I suddenly felt a thousand pounds lighter. All this...all this could go back to normal?

I tried to speak, I wanted to yell for joy, leap up into the air and scream, but I got a hold of myself. These were just the ramblings of a wacko. Best not to put too much stock in his words. Still, I couldn't help but ask, “How?”

“Not sure yet,” the man said. “But that’s why while you go and mend fences with your girlfriend, I’m gonna go take a look at beastie. Once I know what it is, I’ll know how to deal with it.”

“You're serious?” I asked, dumbfounded. “Just how long have you been doing this?”

He smiled, it was a strange smile, like he wasn’t used to the gesture. “My whole life, and then some. Now get lost, I’ll meet you outside your place.”

He started to walk away, and I couldn’t help but call after him, “Hey! What’s your name?”

He stopped, turned his head, and said, “It’s not important.”

He was easily the weirdest man I had ever met. I had absolutely no reason to believe a word he was saying, he could have been just a nut job who had overheard our conversation and was messing with my head, but there was just something about him. It was like he really knew what was going on, like he had seen it all before.

Either way though, I realized he was right. I needed to see Carla. If I wanted anything to change for the better, then she needed to be a part of it.

I took off running, renewed strength carrying me forward. I wanted to catch her before she got home. I wanted to tell her that I was wrong, that I messed up, and that I needed her not just to get through this crisis, but every day after that.

I was barely fifteen years old, but I knew I had met the love of my life. I had to catch her. I had to.

Face to Face (The New House Part VI)

I took several deep breaths. My mom was obviously worried, and if I couldn’t keep my cool I would only stress her further. This thing, whatever it was, had only made itself known to me, so it should let me in the basement, given that I was the one it seemed to want.

Right?

That was my logic anyway as I went down to the basement door and attempted to turn the handle. A part of me was screaming to wait for Carla, not only did she have the locket, but she was my courage, the only reason I was able to face this thing. However another part of me just couldn’t sit back and wait while my dad was down there alone. All sorts of horrible images were playing through my mind, and without realizing it, I had already opened the basement door and was walking down the stairs.

Whatever was down here had let me in, just like I thought. Lucky me.

“Ian?” my mom called, “How did you get the door open?”

“Stay upstairs, by the phone.” I heard myself say, “Just in case.” I couldn’t have her come down here as well. I tried the light switch at the bottom of the stairs. Nothing, the lights wouldn’t turn on.

Of course.

Suddenly there was a slam from above me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. I turned and looked back up the stairs, where the door was now firmly closed behind me. I ran back and tried to open it with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. I was trapped down here.

I gulped. The fear was clinging to me now, working its way up my body. It was smothering. The
air down here was much different than last time. It was thick and heavy, and hot. It was way too hot down here.

And the smell, oh god the smell.

Wiping sweat from my brow, I tried to quell the panic that was beginning to take hold. I was truly in this thing's lair.

“It’s alright,” I muttered. Talking to myself, not a good sign; then again it sure beat having a
complete freak out. “Think happy thoughts, Carla, the strength she brings with her.” I felt myself calm down a little. I was still scared, but I could do this.

I looked around as best I could in the dark. I could see the vague outline of the basement as light peeked in from the crack beneath the door above the stairs.

Then I heard it.

The deep, heavy breathing, steady and powerful, and only getting louder.

Behind me!

I whirled around just in time to see something emerge from beneath the stairs. Jesus it was huge, easily over 8 feet tall. I couldn’t believe it was this big. A nightmarish creature of shadows and darkness, all I could clearly see of it were its eyes, a freakish yellow, and its mouth, stretched into a wide grin, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth.

Finally the panic triumphed, and no amount of happy thinking was going to stop it this time. My mind literally shut off. I fell to my knees, tears pouring down my face as my emotions deserted me. I knew I should be scared, I knew I should be screaming and trying to run away, but all I could do was stare at this towering monster that stalked towards me, step by step. There was no way my father could still be alive, not if he met this thing and now it was going to kill me too. It wrapped a long clawed hand around my neck and grinned.

“Ian!”

That snapped me out of it; her voice. Carla was standing at the top of the stairs, the locket in hand. “I have it!”

“Carla no!” I shouted, picking myself up, strength surging through my body as I wrenched myself from its grip. I couldn’t this thing get her too. “Get out of here, right now!”

Too late.

The monster saw her, its eyes locking with hers and its twisted grin seemed to grow wider.

Carla, however, was far stronger than me. Rather than crumple like I did, she stood her ground.

“Here,” she said, holding up the locket. “This is what you want right? Take it!” With that she threw the tiny trinket down the stairs, where it landed against the far wall.

The creature leapt at the locket, its movements more like a dog’s than a person. It was distracted though, and I took that opportunity to race up the stairs, moving as fast as I could, diving through the open door and taking Carla with me, landing in a heap.

The monster, however; gave chase. Bounding on all fours, the creature practically flew up the stairs, and it was Carla’s quick thinking that saved us; as she slammed the door closed with a kick just in the nick of the time. There was a heavy thud as the creature slammed against the door, and I thought for sure the hinges would give but they held strong.

The monster slammed its bulk against the door again and again, but the door stayed firm, until finally, it stopped, and we could hear its heavy footsteps thump down the stairs.

We could only lay there, our minds in shock.

Finally, after what seemed like hours Carla asked,“Why did it give up?” Her voice felt faint, like it was far away. “It could probably break down the door so why?”

And then my mom screamed.

I wanted to panic; I wanted to freak out, to run and run and hide somewhere and never come out.

But I had to try and be strong, strong like her. So I stood up, no small feat but I managed, and held out my hand to Carla, who took it and pulled herself up.

We tore through the house checking every room, calling my mom’s name over and over.

But there was no trace of her.

She was gone.

“That’s why it stopped,” I muttered, “It got her instead.”

And then we both heard it, a deep low rumble that resonated through the very house, shaking the walls and making the floor vibrate.

The chuckle. The same damned laugh of that monster.

The creature laughed and laughed, and the rumbling grew stronger as the walls began to shake so violently they started to splinter and crack. The pictures we had hung on them fell to the ground as the house felt like it would collapse any second. Carla and I spared a brief glance before panic overtook us. We ran out of the house as fast as we could, and even when the house was long behind us, we could still here the laugh ringing in our ears.

Born an Angel

So I decided to take a quick break from the New House series; which is nearing its end, by the way, and post something sent to me by a good friend of mine.

I didn't write this piece, instead I served as an editor of sorts, but after going through it and getting permission, I wanted to post it here.

****

I couldn’t help but take her hand, noticing just how much smaller it was than mine. Her hands were rough though, and her grip was far from gentle. She looked up at me; her eyes clouded, as though she were incapable of taking in the things around her without first filing them through a distorted filter. It was like looking into a storm cloud, full of fury and chaos, but still just so damn beautiful.

But there was no way I could have known that even someone so small and fragile could be so full of loathing and darkness, and have the ability to do so much damage. Maybe I was so blinded by the fact that I believed we were meant to be. The moment I touched her hand I knew that she would be a part of my life forever Still...I wish I had known, I wish I had paid more attention to the soul behind the face.

She gave me a small grin and whispered, "I was born an angel you know."

Cryptic and sudden; it seemed more like a warning than a statement, but those words flowing from her lips wrapped themselves around my heart. From now until time stopped moving forward I was hers, and as I looked back on that moment, for just a second, it was as though her eyes cleared up and somehow she realized she belonged to me too. My love for her resonated deep in my heart, and no longer content to simply hold her hand, I took her into my arms and held her with all my strength.

A tear slid down my cheek as my soul responded, “I know."

Taking A Walk (The New House Part V)

We spent the rest of the day cleaning up my room as best we could. The last thing I wanted was for my parents to see the message left all over my wall; a message that made no sense to me, by the way.

When I was finally satisfied that my parents could look into my room and not deem me clinically psycho, Carla and I decided to get out of the house and calm down. I spared her a glance as we walked down the block. Her shaking had gotten better, but she was still kinda pale. I wrapped my arm around her and tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind so I just kinda held her for awhile. Finally I couldn’t take the silence; I needed to hear her say something.

“So...are you doing okay?” Oh god, stupid question. Of course she wasn’t you idiot.

She smiled weakly. “You’re cute when you’re all worried.”

“I...well...I just...” Good, now the stammering was starting. How the hell did she do this to me? All she did was call me cute.

She laughed, a small laugh but it was something. “You’re just as cute when you’re all flustered,” she said, wrapping her arm around my waste and leaning close. “Thanks Ian.”

“You’re welcome.” Ha, got that one right.

We walked for a while longer before the subject couldn’t be ignored any longer.

“So that message...”

She sighed, “Yeah, the message. Hey I’m sorry for freaking out back there or whatever. From here on I am totally committed to keeping a brave face and figuring this thing out.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Good to know. I wonder what it meant though. I mean I don’t think I have anything that belongs to...well whatever is down there. Can you think of anything?”

She thought for a moment, “Not really, you know, we could try checking out the history of the house or something. Maybe someone died in your basement and we’re dealing with an angry ghost out for revenge.”

Pleasant thought.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Whatever’s down there is definitely physical. It stomps down the stairs, slams doors, and came into my room and seriously invaded my personal space.” I shuddered at the memory. “Plus it laughs a lot, do ghosts laugh?”

She was staring up at me with a cocked eyebrow. “Invaded your personal space? Like...you know...?”

“What are you...oh god...no! No Jesus Christ no! You are a twisted person you know that! That is all different kinds of messed up!”

“Good, cause I don’t want anyone getting there before me,” she said sweetly.

“I...um...” Oh god the stammering, and now I was blushing too. I drive the ladies wild. Good to see Carla was pretty much back to normal though.

“Oh my god!” She stopped suddenly and looked at me, her eyes wide.

“What?” I asked, “Cause despite my serious lack of anything related to composure, I am totally cool with you invading my personal space.”

“What...? Oh, yeah whatever look I just figured it out!” She looked at me expectantly.

“Um...so what is it that you...”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it right away, god I’m so stupid! It wants that locket back!”

“Locket?”

“Yeah that locket I found in the basement. I put it in my pocket and forgot about it. That’s gotta be what it wants.”

I nodded, remembering how we had found that tiny trinket in the corner. “So where is it now?” I asked. “Do you have it with you?”

She shook her head, “No, I tossed it on my dresser and forgot about it. I’ll run home and get it right away though. Are you gonna come?”

“Tempting, but I should get back home and let my parents know I’m around.”

“Okay, well I’ll be right back, so don’t get gobbled up by the monster or anything until I get back.”

“Yeah, well I’ll try my best on that, hurry back.”

She nodded then gave me a quick kiss before breaking off into a sprint down the block. I couldn’t help but admire her enthusiasm as she was running, as well as her...no we’ll just stick with enthusiasm.

I got home a little while later and found both of my parent’s cars in the driveway. I walked in and was immediately greeted by my mother, who looked a little stressed out.

“Ian, oh good I’m glad you’re home, I need your help quickly.”

“What’s going on mom?” I asked, slightly worried. Mom never got stressed. I will never forget what she said.

“Your father went into the basement, but now the door is locked tight and he won’t answer me. I think he may have hurt himself or something. I need you to help me get the door open.”

Oh god. All I could do now was pray Carla hurried back with that locket.

Give It Back (The New House Part IV)

“It was easily the most terrifying moment of my entire life,” I said, in between bites of fries. “And I once sat through a Steven Segal marathon, which was pretty f-ing scary.”

Carla just looked at me, ketchup dripping from her burger. It was the next day and we had just finished school, and were now sitting in the food court in the nearby mall.

“What did your parents say?”

“Nightmare. Which works I guess. They are clearly oblivious to this whole thing and I don’t want them thinking I’m going nuts.”

“Yeah that would suck,” she said, “And Steven Segal is awesome, by the way.”

I smiled, despite myself. Truthfully, it was only Carla's presence and my own small attempts at making light of the situation with bad jokes that were keeping me from a nervous breakdown.

“Whatever," I said with a sigh. "Look, there is something seriously messed up in that basement and it won’t leave me alone. I’ve gotta do something about this.”

“But we looked through that whole basement and didn’t find anything, you’re really sure about this?”

“Wait,” I said, seeing where she was going. “You think I’m making this up?”

“Not making it up per say but…”

“Crazy then?!”

“No just…”

“Good, because I’m sure. I'm very, very sure. There is something down there and it really has a thing for me. Come on Carla, I need your help on this.”

“Okay, I just...okay.” She took another bite of her burger. “Do you wanna check out the basement again?”

I thought for a moment. “I guess so; I mean there’s nothing else really to go on is there?”

“Well, today we can give the basement a really good go over. Like check every nook and cranny, and then do it again,” she said, “And then tomorrow we can skip a couple of classes and maybe check out some of the history of the house. What do you think?”

“You think the house is gonna have history?”

“Sure why not? All houses have history.”

I nodded, “Okay, that’s as good a plan as any I guess. You about ready then?”

She smiled and nodded, wolfing down the rest of her burger in a very unladylike fashion. “All ready!”

I smiled, I really tried not to, but I couldn’t help it.

On the way back to my place, I stopped her.

“Thanks again,” I said, trying to stammer through what I wanted to say as quickly as possible. “I mean, I know this sounds really messed up and everything, and that I probably sound like a complete freak whenever I bring it up…”

She cut me off with a kiss, just a quick peck on the lips followed by her smile, but it shut it me up.

“Forget it,” she said. “It’s kind of fun anyways.”

“It so isn’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, really not.”

“Yup.”

We bickered playfully the rest of the way. When we got there I saw that my parent’s car was nowhere to be seen. No surprise really, I usually beat them home. Still, there was something about being in the house without them that was really unnerving. Could be I was still getting used to the new place. Or, you know, the horrible monster in the basement. Whichever.

“Do you mind if I throw my stuff in your room?” Carla asked me as we stepped inside, motioning to her backpack, still slung over her shoulder.

I nodded, “Sure.”

She skipped upstairs and I again marveled at her ability to not take any of this seriously. Of course, if our positions were reversed I would probably have trouble believing it as well. I sighed on that thought and went to turn some lights on when I heard Carla.

“Um…Ian, can you come up here? Like…NOW!”

I turned and ran up the stairs, she sounded scared. Carla never got scared. I rounded the corner into my room and froze my mouth agape.

Carla was looking around in disbelief just as I was. My room had been trashed.

No, no trashed was too light a word. It looked like a hurricane ripped through it. My bed sheets and pillows were slashed, my bookcase overturned, my drawers yanked out and their contents tossed on the floor. There were even holes smashed into the wall. But that wasn’t what we were staring at.
On the wall, just above my bed, was a message; written in, what I prayed, was deep red paint.

“Give it back.”

“Holy shit...this is...I mean...I didn’t do this…” I muttered, and Carla turned to look at me.

“No kidding. What do we do? What does this mean? Ian I…I don't know if I can...”

She came over and gripped my arm. Christ she was shaking. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to comfort her. It hit me then, I suddenly realized that she had been taking this seriously the whole time. She had been putting up a front, but she was clearly disturbed by the whole story, and seeing proof of it had gotten to her. But why? If was really getting to her then why was she trying so hard?

I shook that thought out of my mind for the time being, and just tried to focus on soothing her, tried to focus on being strong for her. “It’s okay,” I said, holding her tight. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure something out.”

Sleep Tight (The New House Part III)

“So basically, there’s a hobo in your basement?” Carla asked, grinning at me as she kicked a rock down the sidewalk.

I stared blankly at her for a second. “Um, yes… I guess…look it was way freakier when it happened,” I said, trying not to sound like a total wuss. “And what if it’s not just some hobo, but like a psycho killer or something? How am I supposed to sleep with that in my basement?”

She laughed, it was such a pretty laugh, and in this case, not at all appropriate.

“You wouldn’t be at all freaked out?” I asked her.

“Nope.”

“What, that’s it? Just ‘nope’ just like that? You wouldn’t be scared at all?”

She grinned again. “Yup.”

“I hate you,” I grumbled, which made her laugh again.

“Oh come on, this is kinda funny. I mean, if you can’t laugh then what can you do? It beats being all wiggy about it.”

“I’m not being wiggy. Who says wiggy now a day’s anyway?”

She gave me a look, then said, “You said your dad got the basement key this morning right? So let’s go down there and check it out.”

I stopped dead and looked at her. “You serious?”

“Well your dad probably kicked your hobo out already, so we probably won’t find much, but then I could see your house. I mean we’ve been hanging out every day for like the past month and you haven’t once invited me over. Or are you actually scared of going down into the basement?”

“I’m not…”

“Great!” She smiled and hugged me in a fit of glee. “It’s a date.”

“If this is all you expect out of dates then this should be pretty easy,” I smirked at her.

She laughed again; Carla was in a good mood today, I guess. Which was nice, it beat her being stressed out over school, like she usually was. Her parents were pretty rough on her about that stuff I guess. Mine were just happy I went.

So we got to my house and Carla bounded on in, way too excited. I headed in after her, though much slower, and found her talking to my mom. And damn if they didn’t already look like the best of friends.

“Ian, it’s about time you started bringing friends over. I was getting worried you weren’t making any at school.”

I sighed. “Mom this is Carla, Carla, my mom.”

“Yes I know dear, we’re way ahead of you here. Carla, seeing as my son never brings people home, much less any as pretty as you, would you like to stay for dinner?”

She spared me a quick glance to see what I thought. I just shrugged. Which she had figured out pretty much meant I was cool with it.

“I’d love too,” she beamed. “Let me just phone home real quick first.”

Mom showed her where the phone was, and then came back to me, all smiles.

“Ian, you never told me you had such a pretty girlfriend.” She said, now that Carla was out of earshot. “And she’s so full of life.”

“She’s not…”

“I really like her. You know I think she’ll be very good for you. You’ve been so mopey and…well just ‘blegh’ lately.”

“Mom I’m always like…”

“But I think Carla will really help get you out of your slump. Now dinner isn’t going to be for a little while yet so you kids find something to do until then.”

She looked like she was about to walk away, but paused. “But keep your bedroom door open,” she said, much louder than necessary, and headed towards the living room.

Oh god. Well at least Carla didn’t hear that. I met her in the kitchen just as she was getting off the phone.

“My mom said it’s cool if I stay,” she said. “I mean, if you’re still okay with it and everything. I know I’ve been a little pushy today.”

I smiled, just a little bit. “Its fine, I’m kinda glad you’re here actually.”

“Great! Oh and your mom doesn’t need to worry, I’m not so pushy as to attempt ‘closed door’ stuff already,” she said, grinning at me.

Damn it.

“Well, can we go check out this basement of yours?”

I refrained from sighing at her enthusiasm. “Okay, let’s go.”

We got to the door, and as I was mustering up the courage to open it and face whatever was down there, Carla shot her hand out and swung it open. She was already half way down the stairs before I realized what had happened.

“Hey, wait up.” I called as I found a light switch and flipped it on, heading after her.

At the bottom of the stairs, I could see that it was just a regular basement. It was old and dusty - pretty much what you’d expect. All our unpacked boxes were down here though, which meant dad must have been down here already.

“So, should we look for a cot?” Carla asked with a grin, clearly not taking this seriously at all. “Or maybe a rolled up blanket or a smelly jacket?”

I responded with silence. I felt it was deserved. I did start looking around though. For what I wasn’t really sure, but with Carla here helping me I felt a lot braver than I thought I would.

A half-hour of rummaging later revealed that this was, in fact, just a basement. No secret compartments or anything. No places a person could really hide. No evidence to suggest anyone had been down here at all.

“Hey look at this,” Carla called from the corner.

“Did you find something?”

She held up a small locket, dangling from a thin gold chain. It looked really old. “Is this your mom’s or something?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve never seen it before. See I told you there was someone down here.” I said, taking the locket.

“Or,” she said, giving me a look, “The previous owners forgot it when they were moving. But your psycho hobo living in the basement theory makes sense too.”

Despite being mocked, I couldn’t help but smile. There didn’t seem to be anything to be afraid of down here after all.

We looked around a little while longer before deciding to head upstairs. Carla finished homework while we waited for supper. She wanted to close the door to mess with my mom but we decided not to push our luck. After dinner, I saw Carla out. She opened the door to leave and I stopped her.

“Hey, thanks for coming, and helping downstairs…I mean…um…” I fumbled for words that would express my gratitude and not make me look like a sissy when she stopped me.

“Anytime,” she smiled at me, then leaned forward and kissed me. Just a quick peck on the lips, but a kiss just the same. Seeing my expression, she frowned.

“Too soon?”

I smiled, a genuine doofy looking, ear to ear smile. “No, I mean, um…” Man I was stammering like an idiot. “Oh god please just go, this is embarrassing.”

She laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and closed the door behind her. I stared at it for a while before I realized what I was doing, and headed upstairs, still smiling ear to ear.

I didn’t want my parents to see that I was practically walking on air. I had an image, after all. So I avoided them for the next few hours until I went to sleep, thinking of how good a day it had been. The basement thing went well, and most of all, Carla and I seemed to be a couple now. Maybe; I mean I wasn’t really sure how it worked, but I thought it was a safe bet.

I slept pretty soundly until a noise woke me up. Groggily, I rolled over and checked my clock. 2:30 in the morning. I listened for a bit, trying to figure out what had woken me and heard footsteps outside in the hall.

Just one of my parents coming back from the bathroom, I figured as I drifted back to sleep.

Then I heard it. The chuckle. That grainy sandy raspy chuckle.

I was sure as hell awake now.

I listened as the footsteps got louder. How the hell could my parents not hear this?

And then they stopped.

And my door creaked open.

Jesus Christ, someone was in my room.

I was too terrified to do anything but pretend to be asleep. I could see a little bit of who it was, but it was too dark to see any details. Hunched over, with what looked to be a black robe on, a hood pulled over its head.

The figure came closer and it was all I could do not to scream. A long, claw like hand reached out and cupped my face, and I really thought I was going to die. Its grip was so cold. I should have screamed when I had the chance.

The chuckle again, and I could feel the heat of this thing’s foul breath on my face. Then its hand let go, and the figure shuffled back out, and I heard the bedroom door open and close.

And then I screamed.

A Chuckle (The New House Part II)

So it had been about two weeks since we moved in to this old heap, and to be honest I was surprised by how much my parents had been able to get done in that two week period. The house looked like it had been lived in for much longer than it actually had, which was good I suppose. I still hated the place, and my parents refused to believe that there was anything weird with the basement door or what lay beyond. Never mind the fact that the key they had for it didn’t work, and that they were in the process of getting a new one from the person who sold us this place.

Which meant no one had been down there yet. Which freaked me out. Like, a lot.

On the other hand though, school was going really well. Well as well as school could go I suppose. Which was to say that school sucked, except for this really pretty girl that made it worth going to; her name was Carla, and she wound up sitting beside me in English class on my first day. While our teacher had droned on and on about Of Mice and Men, we got to talking and found we actually had a lot in common.

She had just moved here with her parents as well, and she was really interested to hear about what we were doing with the house, which I thought was just as boring as Of Mice and Men, but apparently I was wrong because she looked really interested. Ever since then we had been spending most of our time together, which was really cool cause I never really had a girl interested in me before.

I got home a little later than usual, and my parents were delighted to hear I was studying with Carla after school. Yeah I know, it sounds lame but hell she could ask me to stick around and eat dirt and I’d still be late coming home. As I was heading up to my room, I heard a thumping, like someone coming up the stairs.

The Basement.

I looked at my mom, she apparently hadn’t heard anything, and was busily preparing dinner.

“Did we get the key to the basement?” I asked her, and she gave me a strange look.

“No not yet, why?”

“So…dad isn’t down there or anything?”

“Your father doesn’t get home from work for another hour honey, you know that.”

Which meant I was hearing things, or, and this is what I was banking on, this house was seriously messed up.

Despite my better judgment, I went to the basement door. And despite my better judgment, I put my ear to it again and listened.

What I heard will haunt me for the rest of my life.

It was a laugh. Dry and croaky, the voice like sandpaper, but it chuckled, and then I heard the sound of someone descending the stairs, the heavy footsteps making no effort to be quiet.

To say I was scared would be an understatement. That laugh…it chilled me to the bone, playing itself over and over in my mind. I couldn’t take it, I ran again. Despite promising myself that I wouldn’t. I ran all the way up to my room and huddled on my bed like a child, trying to get the laugh out of my head.

There was someone in the Basement. I knew whoever it was had heard me, and for whatever reason, my parents were oblivious. All I could do was hope that key got here soon, and my parents would take care of things. I hated myself for being so scared; after all, boys should be brave. But all I could think of was that laugh, and the sound of that person going back downstairs.

Someone living in our Basement, if only that was all it was.

First Day in a New House (The New House Part I)

You know, what I remember most about the whole ordeal isn’t all the things that happened, all the fear and the panic. It’s how it began that I remember most, which is funny because it was nothing out of the ordinary. I was in a room I had lived in barely long enough to call mine, and already I was packing up my things, taking my posters off the wall and rolling them into cylinders and pretending they were telescopes or whatever, right after it seemed like I had only just put them up. But my parents move a lot, so I was pretty used to this routine by now.

That didn’t mean it didn’t suck. Here I was trying to fit in as a regular fifteen year old boy, which is hard enough without my parents constantly making me the ‘new kid’ everywhere we go. My Mom had said it was because she and Dad had gotten better jobs that paid a lot more money than here in Edmonton. So we were leaving. And I was going to have to start all over. Again.

Sorry, I'm getting kind of ahead of myself here. My name is Ian, and they told me that sometimes when people have a really traumatic experience or whatever, it helps to write about it. Plus, it makes Carla feel better as well, since she's helping me write this. So here we go.

We pulled up to the house, and I had to admit, it was some kind of house. Like, really big. Like mansion big. Well maybe not that big, but you get the idea. It was old though, it had that gray gritty color that old houses have, and had the plants that climbed up the walls because no one had been around to take care of them.

My Dad said that was why they got it cheap, said it was a ‘fixer-upper.’ I called it a hole, but they didn’t care. You could practically see the dollar signs in their eyes, you know, like in those cartoons. They got that way about money. ‘Maximum efficiency for minimum effort’ my Dad always said, which I basically interpreted as being cheap, but he didn’t like hearing that much. I figured I wasn't the first person to tell him that.

We began unloading our bags and bringing them into the house. I didn’t have a lot of stuff, so as soon as I finished I decided to go take a look around. I was an only child, so I didn’t have to worry about calling a room or anything like that but I was still curious. The entrance was pretty big, but really dirty. Mom said the cleaning people would be here tomorrow so we’d just have to deal with it tonight. I checked out the main floor first. It was about what you’d expect I suppose, living room, dining room, kitchen, just bigger.

I checked out the top floor next, with all the bedrooms, way more than we needed, and it was then that I could have sworn I heard a noise. Peering out the window I saw my parents were still outside so it couldn’t have been them. I listened real closely, and I knew something was…well…off - is I guess the best way to put it.

For some reason, just then I remembered my Dad talking about how he had heard people talking about how things seemed to be different lately. Like there was a noticeable change between today and yesterday, and other than the fact that it had been raining a heck of a lot more some places that usual, no one could really put their finger on it. But everyone agreed that something had changed.

I shook it off and kept looking around, eventually making my way downstairs and through the kitchen, eventually winding up at a door at the end of a hall. I tried the knob and found it was locked. I assumed it went to the basement, and I was gonna see if I could see under the door when I heard a creak just beyond it. I practically jumped out of my skin. There was something just on the other side of the door, I was sure.

I put my ear to the door, trying to listen closer, and just as I did the door started to shake. I mean really shake, like smashing back and forth so hard I thought the hinges were gonna burst off and the whole thing was gonna come crashing down on me.

I freaked. I ran, as fast as I could, away from the door and didn’t stop until I was outside.

I caught my breath on the front lawn, having made it out in record time I’m sure. I told my parents there was no way I was going back inside. I told them something was really wrong in there and that we needed to leave right now, pack our bags back up and drive very far away. But my Dad said I was just homesick and my Mom said that boys didn’t get scared by little noises in old houses. Little noise my ass but they weren’t hearing me anymore, so I helped my parents unload the rest of our junk until it was all done so I could calm down.

Boys didn’t get scared huh. I can’t tell you how wrong she was, and it was only going to get worse.

Something Absolute (The Girl With the Dead Eyes Part IX)

It was raining again, big surprise there. It had been raining a lot recently, slamming against his window, the only thing letting him know the outside world was still there. If any of his sense of humor still remained, he’d have laughed at the absurdity of it all. For all his power, he was unable to do anything about the leather straps keeping him to this damn bed, stuck in this tiny room, the sound of the rain tormenting him with its consistency. It was enough to drive a man insane, although seeing as the people keeping him here had already dubbed him insane, they probably didn’t care much.

They sedated him every night, ensuring his sleep was blank, dreamless. He hadn’t figured out if they were doing that deliberately to keep his power dormant, or if they were just jerks. He personally banked on the latter.

Ever since he went to therapy, his life had steadily gotten worse. Struggling to get over the sudden departure of his long-time girlfriend, he had hoped that therapy would help him get his life back on track. What joke that turned out to be. He remembered tracking her down to a fancy nightclub one night, he remembered how beautiful she looked on the dance floor, laughing and smiling and having the time of her life, all because she was free of him. It had been the hardest thing he had ever had to do, but he had walked away from her then, and she had never even known he was there. He wondered how his life might have taken a different turn had he tried one last time to make things better with her that night.

It was that night he discovered his power.

The dreams were so vivid, so real. When he woke up, he could have sworn that they had actually happened. As it turned out, he wasn’t far from the truth. Everything he dreamt came true; carried over to the real world. He had dreamt his dog back to life, and there he was. He had dreamt he could fly, and then he could fly. At first it was wonderful; he finally had the power to make things right between them, to reunite with his lost love. So he kept dreaming, all the while hoping, praying, that that night would be the night they were reunited.

And then he dreamt of her.

Not his wayward love. No it was a deranged manifestation of her, it was the most terrifying nightmare he had ever had, and he knew his power had made her manifest. He had dreamt of an unstoppable demon in her image.

She was strong and cunning, with lifeless eyes lacking a soul. He had tried to stop her, tried to tell someone, but they locked him up, claimed he was insane, and had kept him drugged ever since.

They were late tonight; they should have been here by now to sedate him. He tried to listen for their footsteps but could only hear the rain.

Just then, slowly, the heavy door creaked open, and when he craned his neck to look his eyes filled with dread.

A woman, dressed all in black, stepped slowly into his room, her eyes never leaving his, piercing his soul with their gaze. His body froze, and suddenly he was wracked with chills, worse than any fever he had ever had. It was like the temperature of the room had suddenly plummeted. A black sludge was dripping steadily from the woman and had covered the floor. Now it was making its way up the walls, onto the ceiling, and suddenly the whole room was cast into absolute darkness. All he could see was himself and this creature, black tendrils dancing from her form and moving ever closer to him.

It was her. She had changed greatly, but he knew. He knew that this was the demon he created. And now she had found him.

“His blood granted me his knowledge.” She spoke, her voice like velvet. He could only stare in horror as she sat at the foot of his bed, her hand running absently up his leg, her touch leaving darkness in its wake. He was disappearing, he realized quickly. He was being eaten alive by the darkness.

“I know I began as a figment of your rather vivid imagination, as a part of you. Now I have come to make you a part of me. I will free you from this life, and in so doing, grant you the peace you desire.”

He listened to her, had heard her voice, but only heard her words a moment later and began to struggle fiercely against his restraints. She was going to kill him. He was going to die.

The tendrils tore his restraints with ease and wrapped around his body, pulling him to her chest, like a mother cradling her child. Unlike her hands, the tendrils were warm, almost soothing, and as they rocked him ever slightly back and forth, he found himself being lulled asleep. Not the forced sleep he was used to in this place, but a real genuine rest.

This wasn’t so bad, he thought as he relaxed his body. With one last glance at her face, he found she was looking down at him, smiling. And then he let his eyes close, and accepted the darkness.

His power was hers now, and he was happy to be rid of the burden. Let her have it, let her do with it what she will.

Once The Girl With the Dead Eyes, once The Final Nightmare, and now something even more powerful. Something all together new in this world. Something Absolute.

Crimson Birth of The Midnight Child (The Girl With the Dead Eyes Part VIII)

The Angel, The Demon, both locked in their never-ending struggle, each vying to bring about a new world with the other’s blood. Truly there could never be a more glorious battle. Or at least, that’s what her Master would say.

To the Girl With the Dead Eyes, who perched in the rafters of the church watching the battle below, this was all a means to an end. She had no idea just what sort of personal history her Master and the Inquisitor had, but despite what may have occurred between them in the past, her Master, a truly frivolous fool, seriously believed he was the star of his own personal epic, and was battling as such. She however, was not so delusional. There was no glory here, no sense of honor or pride, and certainly no reason to fight the Inquisitor other than the fact that he was the next step in her evolution.

The plan was simple, her Master distracted the Inquisitor long enough to provide an opening, then she would leap down to attack. Her Master would capitalize on the distraction, and the fight would be over. However, knowing the Inquisitor, he would see the attack coming in time to counter swiftly, leaving no such opening. Which was why they had sired another of their kind to go first.

She turned her gaze to the whelp beside her. He was watching the fight intently, still adjusting to the capabilities of his new body. The boy was barely sixteen in his old life, barely a week old in his new one. Tricking him with promises of understanding and belonging, playing upon his depression, it had been easy to lure him to their side willingly. He would attack first, no doubt being obliterated by the vastly more powerful and experienced Inquisitor, but his death and her attack would create the necessary distraction.

At least, that was her Master’s plan.

The battle waged for a few more moments, both figures blurs of claws and fangs before she saw it. Her Master fell back, just a fraction of a foot, and hesitated, for just the tiniest part of a second, and the Inquisitor, for the briefest of moments, was off balance. The signal to attack.

“Go now!” She hissed at the boy, who leapt from the rafters immediately, claws and fangs aimed at the Angel. A good little soldier. She leapt immediately after him.

As expected, the Inquisitor turned and saw the attack coming. A smirk crossed his face as he raised his hand to the sky. The heavens growled and obeyed his command, the storm seemingly eager to join the battle, and lashed out with a blast of lightening, smashing though the old roof and slamming the whelp in the chest; burning his body to ash before it hit the floor. It didn’t matter. With the Inquisitor distracted, the Girl With the Dead Eyes found her target, and her fangs plunged deep into his neck.

In her arms, her Master’s body jerked, his blood now flowing freely into her mouth as she drank him dry. This, she had learned, would give her the strength she needed. All the power of her Master, all the power of her kind, resided in the blood, their life force. Now she would add his strength to her own. She continued to drink even as his body started to wither and decay, even as he looked upon his childe with unparalleled fury in his eyes. She would consume more than just his life force, or his power. She would not stop until she had drank his very soul. Finally, when there was nothing left, when the mighty demon that was once her Master had turned to dust in her arms, she turned to face the Inquisitor.

She had made sure to save room. After all, the main course was yet to come.

Waiting until the demon hunter, the divine Angle of retribution, had shaken off the disgust that had overwhelmed him at the cannibalistic display of treachery, she launched her attack, taking her Master’s place in the battle between Angels and Demons, her claws and fangs clashing with the Inquisitor.

She had wondered why her Master had stayed her attack the first time they saw the Inquisitor destroy her childe in an alley outside a ratty nightclub. Now she knew. The Angel was a terrifying force to confront. His power was immense, his attacks nearly impossible to predict. The storm itself seemed to be an extension of his will, lightning striking anywhere she dared stay for more than a few seconds, the rain pelting against her skin through the holes the lightning made, yet never touching its master. Had she confronted him before, she would have been destroyed in an instant.

Yet as powerful as the Angel was, his strength was fading, while hers was overflowing. He had never been pushed like this. A ferocious slash of her claws, and she caught the Angel across his chest. For the first time since before the flood, an Inquisitor was wounded.

The Inquisitor recoiled in pain, his hand coming to his chest. Today, in this battle, he was outmatched, for the first time in his long existence. Had she been at her normal level, he could have destroyed her as easily as he did the annoyance earlier. But now, after fighting with her Master, and her transformation into this new state, his strength was no longer enough. Perhaps if he had time to rest, then maybe - but now - now she would transform again, and this time, the outcome would be far more terrifying.

She pressed her attack with all her strength, determined to bring the Inquisitor down. Despite his wounds, he was still doing an admirable job of dodging and countering, but she could tell this battle nearing its conclusion. She dodged to the side and, catching his wrist, pulled the Angel towards her. No longer possessing the strength to match her, the Inquisitor was yanked forward into the fangs of the Demon, which sank into his neck and caused his blood to flow into her eager mouth.

This was it, this was the end.

His blood was unlike any other, and the Girl With the Dead Eyes reveled in it. She drank deeply of the blood of Angels, letting it fill her very being, letting it consume her with its warmth. All the power of the Inquisitor, the only thing to hunt her kind, and now it would be hers. The Final Nightmare would be born.

She let the body drop from her arms only when there was not a drop left and wiped her mouth, allowing herself a brief grin in triumph. Outside the storm intensified, and the heavens wept openly at the death of one of their own. The thunder crashed with rage, the wind howled with anger, and the lightening struck the ground, trying to strike the abomination from the earth. From within her, darkness pooled, welling up inside of her until it could no longer be contained. The transformation had begun. Her body, now unnecessary, exploded outwards as the overwhelming darkness took her soul and clung to it, manifesting itself as a new, sentient entity.

The darkness, like a black fluid, shaped itself to take the form of her previous shell. This new body took a step forward, then another, an extension of darkness, of death. Tendrils of pure unshaped evil extended from its shape and writhed at the air around it. Where it stood, darkness fell like dripping water and pooled at its feet, surrounding it in a milky circle, ever growing.

At last, when the transformation was complete, she opened her eyes; the only aspect of her that had remained unchanged, and turned her gaze to the world, seeing for the first time.

The Final Nightmare had been born, and it had been born from the Girl With the Dead Eyes.

Inevitable Conflict (The Girl With the Dead Eyes Part VII)

The great killer known only as the Inquisitor clenched his fists and steeled himself for what was to come, his gaze fixated on the towering building before him. Seemingly in preparation for the conflict, Heaven had unleashed its most powerful downpour yet; the rain actually coming down hard enough to be painful as the Inquisitor made his way up the steps to the imposing house of God, made a mockery by the demons that nested there.

He was sure this was a trap, after all, he had experience hunting this particular monster and knew him to be cunning and resourceful. But after tracking him across the globe to this location, he would not pass up the opportunity for vengeance. Clearing his head of doubts, the Inquisitor strode forward, summoned his strength, and pushed the doors open.

There, at the far end, beneath an alter of Jesus Christ, knelt his target. He couldn’t help but feel rage boil up within him, to see this devil mock prayer in such a way. Yet the Inquisitor was no fool, and rather than attack, he examined his surroundings carefully. If the Master was here, so was the Childe, and both would be hungering for his blood, the blood of Angels, the key needed for these monsters to transform themselves from abominations created by a spark of divinity gone awry, into true demons.

The Final Nightmare. There had been only one before, and its power so great that God himself intervened and unleashed a purging rain upon the Earth, washing away all things tainted by the demon.

The Inquisitor knew, better than any, just how close to the birth of another demon they were.

As the Master stood, his prayer apparently finished, the eyes of a divine Angel of retribution met with the eyes of an Angel of death brought to the world by a false God, and a solemn vow was exchanged. They both knew that this was the end.

After tonight, the world would change. One way or another.

Everyone Has Nightmares (The Girl With the Dead Eyes Part VI)

“Admiring the view? I trust it is to your satisfaction, though not as high up as your old therapist’s office, but given the circumstances perhaps that is for the best.”

“Yeah…I…”

“Come now, step away from the window and get comfortable. We’re not going to get to the bottom of anything with you pacing back and forth like that.”

“Sorry, I’m just used to my old therapist’s approach; he was a lot less rigid.”

“You think I’m rigid? Perhaps I could stand to relax a little, but I don’t think that approach worked for you before, so why should it work now?”

“I suppose...”

“Do you still feel bad about what happened?”

“I…how could you ask me that…? I mean, if I hadn’t felt like I had something to prove, then maybe…”

“Which is why you never went to another therapist; you were, and still are, I suspect, afraid you may have something to prove.”

“Maybe…”

“But you see you don’t have anything to prove, not to me, because I believe you. How could I not, after what happened.”

“I suppose so…”

“He was a good friend of mine you know. We both came up in the same class, graduated first and second in the college; we were the best in the business. That’s why I sought you out, why I’m giving you such a discount for my services, because if he couldn’t help you, then the only one who can is me.”

“What I’m dealing with isn’t something you can just talk through.”

“Oh believe me I know. In fact, I read the last few pages of his notebook; would you like to hear the last thing he wrote?”

“I’m not sure that’s…”

“X year, X month, X day: The patient spent the duration of today’s session in a state of confusion. There was obviously something he wanted to tell me, but it seemed like he couldn’t find the words. Rather than prod it out of him, I allowed him the time necessary to articulate his thoughts. Finally, he said that he had been having dreams. When I asked him to describe these dreams in more detail, he said he couldn't. Then he cut our time short and said he would see me next week.

X year X month X day: This is impossible, my hands continue to shake as I write this, he…he said his dreams are his reality, that he makes his dreams come true in the most literal sense. He just flew out my window, like a bird, just flew away, this man. He said he can bring people back from the dead…he can fly…my God he can fly…wait…if he can do these things…maybe he is a god…he can create life…he can fly…no…no he’s just a man…he’s just a man…but wait, I’m just a man too…that means…that means I can fly…ha ha ha ha…I can fly…I’m going to fly out my window, just like he did…ha ha…right now, and be free…like a bird…”

“Please…no more…”

“And then he leapt from his 47th floor office window, and, much to his disappointment I would imagine, did not fly.”

“I know…I know…it’s all my fault, all I’m doing is killing people…”

“Get a hold of yourself, you're making a mess. How are you killing people?”

“What…?”

“You said you were killing people, just now. What did you mean?”

“….”

“You’ve come this far, now is the time to come clean. You’re chained to all your failures in life: your wife leaving you, your dead end job, your pitiful state of living, and now, even with what appears to be all the power in the world, you still can’t make your real dreams come true. Your wife isn’t in your arms; you still have no money, no sense of self worth. Come clean with me here and now, and we can begin to start over, to build the life you deserve.”

“I dreamt them…and they came true…”

“What came true?”

“The…demons…out there…when it rains…because of them…”

“What do you mean?”

“I have dreams, but I also have nightmares…and those come true as well.”

“What are your nightmares about?”

“You don’t get it; they’re out there, hunting us, killing people…she’ll kill everyone…”

“Who will? Who is ‘she’?”

“What…?”

“You said ‘she’ll kill everyone’, who is ‘she’?”

“The Final Nightmare…it’s coming…”

“The Final Nightmare?”

“The Girl…she’s going to do it…I dreamt it, I saw everyone die…I know it will come true…The Girl With the Dead Eyes…”

“Girl With the Dead Eyes, how very interesting. Well, that should be enough notes for the time being, I suppose you all can come in now.”

“What…?”

“These men will be escorting you into custody - for your own safety of course. It is my professional opinion, as well as that of the state, that you be remanded to the nearest psychiatric hospital, where you will be placed under constant surveillance until such a time that you are deemed no longer a threat to society, or to yourself.”

“No! No! You can’t do this! I have to stop her…I have to…let go of me…get your hands off of me! You don’t understand…she’ll kill you all!”

“Yes yes, the Girl With the Dead Eyes, don't worry I will be sure to keep a look out.”

“You’re all dead! If we don’t stop her…we’re all going to die…”

“Gentlemen please hurry; I would like to eat my lunch in relative peace and quiet, perhaps a sedative…ah, thank you gentlemen. Do take care of him now; he will be a most remarkable study. A man who firmly believes he can turn his dreams to reality, a man who truly believes his nightmares have damned us all…how fascinating…how fascinating.”

The Inquisitor (The Girl With the Dead Eyes Part V)

Only when the rain had washed away the last remnants of what was once a deadly beast did the man turn and leave the alley, his work for the night finished. Yet even his keen senses proved unable to detect the twin gazes focused on him, watching him closely, the same twin gazes that had studied his every move during his brief encounter with the monster.

From their perch on a building above, they shared a brief glance, one set of eyes cold and dead, the other just the opposite, full of fire and passion. For a brief moment, the Girl With the Dead Eyes considered asking the one she called Master why he had held her back, why he hadn’t let her intervene to save her childe, but decided against it. After all, she had cared little for the childe, she had created it as more an experiment than anything else. A way to learn more about her true nature.

“I have known that man for a long time,” her Master spoke, his voice soft and melodic. “He has pursued me for countless years. A type of monster that hunts not just humans, but our kind as well. A predator who preys on predators, he is the ultimate killer. They are called Inquisitors, after the witch-hunters of old.”

He smiled then, and she gave him her full attention.

“But the Inquisitor is also the ultimate prey. His blood grants great power to our kind. By drinking it, we evolve into the purest form of monster. We become what our legends have called The Final Nightmare.”

Listening closely, her eyes flickered briefly with realization.

She had been created, and had created another, solely for the purpose of luring the Inquisitor to them, so that her Master could drink his blood and gain power. Her Master knew the Inquisitor would hunt him, and he would use that knowledge to bait him into a trap. Ultimately, she realized, her existence was little more than a trail of bread crumbs.

She moved down from her spot on the roof, her mind racing, while the rain, sensing that the monsters were done for the night, began to let up. If her Master thought he could manipulate her for his own ends, he was sorely mistaken. By revealing this information to her, he had shown how little he thought of her, how he did not consider her a threat. In the end, he would die for it.

She knew now, for certain, that the Final Nightmare would be born, but not as her Master envisioned. No, The Final Nightmare would be born from the blood of the Inquisitor, from the blood of her Master, and from the Girl With the Dead Eyes.

Everyone Dreams (The Girl With the Dead Eyes Part IV)

“I’m always amazed by the view your office gets. I mean everything in here is really nice, the couch, the desk, the computer, but the view, that’s the best part. How’d you ever get such a nice place anyway?”

“I graduated top of my class, received numerous awards of distinction in my field. They’re all on the wall over there.”

“Yeah I guess so, so you worked your way all the way up to the 47th floor huh?”

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”

“I’ve only been able to work my way up to a two story bungalow myself. Should I lie down now?”

“If you want. Wherever you feel most comfortable being. So you said last session that you’ve been having these dreams?”

“Yes and no, I mean, they’re dreams, but they’re not.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what it sounds.”

“I’m sorry, I’m having trouble understanding.”

“It’s like this, normally when people dream, they’re asleep right?”

“Yes, I suppose that goes without saying.”

“Well I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Please elaborate.”

“When I dream, and I know I’m dreaming, I’m awake, in a sense, and what I’m dreaming comes true.”

“True?”

“Yes, like it happens right here, in the real world.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, for example, last night I dreamt that the dog I had to put down a couple of years back after my wife left was laying across my bed, sleeping like he always did, and then there he was.”

“In your dream?”

“No, in real life, I was awake, and dreaming at the same time. I reached out to pet him the way he loves it, and his tail wagged they way it used to. I could feel the softness of the fur, I saw his legs kick, like he was chasing gophers or something, you know, when a dog is also dreaming.”

“And when you woke up?”

“I don’t think you’re getting this Doctor. I was already up. My dog’s still there, he was there waiting by the door when I left this afternoon, and he’ll be there when I come back.”

“So you dreamt your dog back from the dead? Is that really what you’re telling me?”

“Hey don’t make fun of me. Aren’t therapists supposed to take this kind of stuff in stride?”

“Yes, yes you’re right, I'm sorry. Please continue.”

“Not sure if I want to now.”

“Please, we still have time left.”

“Okay, I’ll give you another example. The other night it was raining, like real hard, storm knocked the power out and everything. I had this dream where I was flying, flying as high as I could to escape the thunder and the lightning. My dog, he always hated storms, they made him so scared, so I guess they kind of got to me too. Anyway I was dreaming I was above the clouds, and then there I was, flying, just like a bird I swear to God, in just my boxers, and man it was really fucking cold, sorry for cursing, but let me tell you, was it ever beautiful. I saw the stars, like really saw them you know? Kind of like when you go out into the country to escape all the city crap that blocks the view, but so much closer, like I could reach out and grab them.”

“And then what happened?”

“I let myself fall, through the clouds, back towards the ground, and stopped myself before I hit my lawn. Then I ran inside so I wouldn’t freeze. I was soaked, and only in my underwear.”

“Couldn’t you have just dreamt for the rain to stop?”

“Never really thought of that, maybe.”

“Well, my friend, time is up for today. However I’d really like you to come back next week, and maybe for a few more sessions after that.”

“You think I’m crazy?”

“I don’t make distinctions like that.”

“Fine, I’ll prove it to you.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I can still fly you know.”

“What?”

“I can still fly, would you like to see?”

“I don’t…please…please step away from the window.”

“Well, you thought I was crazy right? I’m going to prove that everything I’m saying is true.”

“Alright, alright, just calm down okay? I believe you, you don’t need to prove anything to me. Now please, close the window.”

“No I insist. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Just watch Doctor, I’m about to change your world.”