A Waking Nightmare

That large picture ahead on the left... it's moving. You deny the logic over and over in your head. It does no good. Tiny fragments of glass fall to the floor. Your back is pressed to the opposite wall as you attempt to slide by that bulging picture. It's a picture of a face; a contorting face that is trying to press its way through the frame itself.

Your head jerks back as your neck is seized!

Immediately your hands claw at the thing around your neck. A peculiar pain lodges in your throat as the fingers squeeze painfully. You pull at them frantically. It's only when you lose your footing and fall that the hand on your neck loses its grip.

You scramble to your feet rubbing the icy pain on your throat. All thought or logic evaporates in your head as you begin to run. With a quick glance behind, you can see the hand protruding from the frame on the wall.

Every breath is a gasp now. The door is there. It just seems so far away. Why is this happening? Why are you still dreaming? Why can't you wake up? It is a dream isn't it? Hallways don't just stretch and arms don't come out of damned picture frames! The logical side of your brain still scrambles to put the pieces together, but it has no time. You only know you want out. The door... you have to get to that door.

The screams are so loud you can't even hear your footfalls. You've run for so long that the cold air in your chest feels like razor blades. You can see the front door. It is closer... isn't it? You can't stop. That's what you swear to yourself over and over. Get outside. Get away from here. Run. Run.

You collide with the door at last. It happens so suddenly that you stare at it for several seconds, baffled. Then you reach for the knob and twist. It does not move. You curse, jerking and wiggling the knob frantically, but to no avail. In your frustration you beat at the door.

"Please...."

Whirling at the sound of the voice, you wildly grasp at your ear. The single sobbing word had sounded like it was spoken from lips pressed close to your ear. The thought makes you shudder.

The stairs loom ahead. The living room to your right looks like a black pit. That long tunnel of a hallway still wails out in agony. Your heart is galloping in your chest. No matter what you do, you can't get your thoughts together. You can't make sense of anything. Every part of your body shakes beyond your control.

"Think, think, think!" You hiss angrily.

Turning toward the dining room, you look to see if there's another door, or a window, any way to escape or anything of use that might wake you up.

There are people seated at the dining table.

You flatten your back against the door. You don't breathe. Your eyes dart around searching for something to use as a weapon. There is nothing. Through wide eyes you watch the motley family at the table. The two larger people are naked, slumped lifelessly in their chairs, posed as if in some sort of odd portrait. You don't need to look at their faces to know that they have none.

It's the smaller people that are new to your dream entranced eyes. A dim, blue glow emanates from the tabletop. One of the figures hunkers over this glow. It's holding... something... a phone. You blink. The person is holding a phone. You see two thumbs flashing rapidly across the screen of the device, quicker than you can follow. Children, you realize. Two girls. The older one is on a phone. The younger sits and stares blankly.

You're trying to catch your breath but not alert the strange, silent family at the table. Every breath you take is across quivering lips. You're trying to think of something, anything. The stairs are just ahead... it just seems like a damned dead end. Your brain screams at you to try the door again, break a window, to do anything, but your eyes beg you to stay still and silent.

The thought of those things at the table hearing you is humbling.

You stare at them in a horrified trance, wondering what hell they must have suffered, and wondering why you are trapped in such a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. The fact that they sit so still and lifeless is unsettling enough. The naked corpses of the lovers are too obscene to look at with their misshapen heads and purple nipples. The others are no better. Much is very normal about them; they are clothed and looked like normal children. The older of the two is even wearing earphones connected to that glowing phone it held.

But their faces.... Seeing those blank featureless heads is something that still makes your brain writhe about in your head. It looks so wrong.

All in unison, each of the four heads slowly turn toward you.

"No!" You gasp.

Each of the wretches stand. The tallest of them wobbles, as it's leg bends the way it shouldn't. The bloated head of the woman rolls about on her broken neck. You all but recoil at the site of the thing holding the phone. A plastic bag is cinched taut around it's head. And the little one... why is it dripping?

They each turn and begin walking toward you. Their faceless gazes never look away from you, even as they maneuver mechanically around the table.

"No!" You cry out. "This isn't real, it isn't real!"

Those gaping black mouths appear. The deafening sirens pierce the air.

You don't wait. You don't think. In a frenzy, you're practically crawling up the stairs. Even though you dread to look back, you have to know that you're getting away. It only takes a single glance to see the four faceless people already standing at the bottom of the stairs. The sudden sight of them pulls a scream right out of your gut.

You stumble to the top of the stairs and collide with a door. There's something wet at your feet. Jumping away from the closed door, you look at the crack at the bottom, where you see that water flows freely into the hall. Backing away from the shut room in horror, you hear the sound of the faucet running from inside.

BLAM!

Again you're reeling in the second floor hallway. Another closed door, another room shut. Whatever crashed against this door on the opposite side continues to beat and bang. You can hear the sounds of a struggle, and you wince at the pleading screams you hear within. The cries for help are so desperate that the tiniest fraction of you wants to open the door in some attempt to help. The thought of what is happening on the other side chills your blood.

Water spreads across the floor, cascading down the stairs. The walls seem to rattle from the incessant beating at the bedroom door in front of you. Your senses are overloaded. There's too much haze in your eyes, too much horrible beating and screaming. The hallway only seems to grow darker, as if the darkness itself is crawling along the walls. All the while, you still are wondering why you can't wake up.

"This is a dream," you remind yourself.

The first door at the landing swings open. A wave of water carries a stuffed animal down the stairs.

"No! This is a dream!" You repeat.

The screams behind the second door turn into muffled gasps. You hear a strange papery rustling. The beating at the door gets more frantic.

"This is just a dream!" You say again, trying to convince yourself.

The entire building shakes. The water has reached your ankles. A thundering groan drowns out all sound. You cover your ears. Turning this way and that you search for another door, or a window, or anything to free you from the nightmarish house. You lunge for a closet door but it doesn't budge. You curse and realize it wouldn't have helped anyway.

When you glance toward the stairs, you immediately wish you hadn't. The stairs are gone. All that remains is a sealed corridor. At the blackest depths of the hall, four blank faces stare out at you. Each one is motionless. Pure cold fright seizes your insides. Your mind starts to taunt you. You know you'll never escape them. Nothing in the house is right. Even now the walls bow inward and the air is split with that roaring groan. The doors won't open to you. Why the hell would you think a window would be any better? Why can't you wake up?

Those pale faces move. You lose sight of them but you can still see the movement in the dark. They're coming. Alarms are sounding in your head. There's no time to think. There's no time for anything. You back away. Sloshing through the lukewarm water, you turn to flee. That sensation is so powerful. It feels like the faceless things are right there, arms reaching for your neck. You hear that siren scream. The images of those gaping black mouths flash in your head. White hot terror floods your brain in neurotic flashes.

You stumble through a door. For several seconds, you are frozen in shock. Then, you scramble to slam the it shut. As though something would try to break in, you fling yourself against the door and pin it closed.

All at once, everything is silent.

A warm orange glow fills the room. Gasping, you rub your eyes and blink several times, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Things are all of the sudden quiet, which is so very strange after hearing the groaning of the house and that terrible scream. It's a bedroom. You see a desk sitting in a corner, piled with books. There's a set of sliding doors for the closet. There's a bathroom. Nothing is dark. Nothing is misplaced. Nothing seems... strange.

It's the sounds that you hear that surprise you. A gentle tune is playing faintly in the room.

"Oh, god!"

The glare of actual light hurts your eyes at first. You squint, searching for the source of the sounds.

"Ooh, right... there...."

The sheets on the bed are in piles. You hear squeaking. Clothes litter the floor. All you can do is stare. It's such a sudden shift. Even now you tremble. Your wet feet soak the carpet. Each breath is a stuttering gasp. The house was ready to cave in on you. It's hard to come to grips with the pleasant simplicity of the two people on the bed.

"Oh, oh my god! Oh, harder!"

"Ohh, you like it rough?"

You stare in utter amazement.

The woman sits atop the man. Her skin is a vibrant glow, but the man's skin is a deep tan. It is a beautiful contrast. Every curve in her back seems to slide and twist. The sight is so alluring. Her arms press downward, locked stiff against the man's broad chest. The woman's waist is rolling back and forth. Her plump cheeks clench together every time she slides forward into the man's lap. Two strong hands clutch her tightly, pulling her deeper and deeper.

"Oh, right... like that!"

You blink at the scene. Your mouth hangs agape.

One particular thrust from the man's powerful hips, and his thighs slap the woman's skin. His genitals bounce beneath her ass. The woman tosses back her head and wails out in pleasure. You watch the soft ends of her hair brush across that slender back. A hand comes down hard with a pop on her ass cheek. The lady squeals gleefully. Her thrusts become faster, more desperate than before.

The pieces in your head are still spinning. All that water... those screams... now this? None of it made sense. You turn and look at the door in a daze, then stare back at the couple having sex. Licking your lips, you bite down hard on your tongue. It's a dream right? It really has to be. It has to be.

The man sits up and cradles his lover in his arms. You watch them kiss. They kiss until they are seemingly out of breath. Their tongues roll together as they gasp for air again and again. The woman moans against his lips. The two of them couldn't be more lost in each other's embrace. Her waist rolls into his with each lull of the soft music. You see his fingers digging into the ample flesh of her ass.

You still haven't moved. You feel lost, like a shipwrecked sailor seeing land for the first time. It feels hollow and weak in your bones. The sight of the lovers is so serene, so pleasant that you actually enjoy the confusion for a brief moment, even going as far as to grin at the utter ridiculousness of it all.

Then you notice something.

You gaze at the man and the woman, entranced by their love making and stunned by this sudden shift of realities. Your eyes take in so much of their flesh, that hard rough muscle against her delicate curves.

Something is different... something stands out

You watch the man heave his body up into hers. You watch the arch in her back as her hair flips wildly. You hear the cry of ecstasy that bursts from her shiny lips....

Lips. Eyes, noses, ears! You can see their faces! For once in this damned nightmare, you see recognizable human features!

And what features they are. The very sight of the woman's face makes your breath hang in your chest. She's beautiful by anyone's standards. The way her eyelashes flutter at the man's touch speak to the sensations she must feel. Looking at her face, with her lips open in a moan of pleasure, you feel a twist inside of you. The man nibbles at her neck, lost in the taste of her smooth skin. His groans and grunts are those of pure carnal hunger. Your eyes trace that hard jawline, down to the hunks of muscle at his shoulders. His flesh is so tight, so tough, and so tan.

You suddenly feel out of place like an intruder. By now, you would have thought the lovers would have seen or heard you burst into the room. A sick feeling starts to swirl in your gut. You can't seem to look away from the couple. Surely, they are the same people you spied in the living room, right? Downstairs you felt aroused. What is this feeling now? Why is your heart pounding? Why do you feel your cheeks flush warm? Is it simple embarrassment? Is it because of the crazy shit in the house?

There's something about the lover's faces... but what?

"Oh God!"

You blink. The couple has stopped their love making. You watch as the woman scrambles out of the man's lap. She's pulling the covers up to hide her body. The man's eyes are wide as he pats the air. With his other hand, he vainly tries to shield his erection.

"Hey, c'mon, just take it easy," the man says.

He's talking to you. You stare at him in confusion.

"Just think about this, put that down!" He insists.

You look behind you, then back at him. What the hell is he talking about?

In three blinding seconds, white hot light sears your eyes. So many images flood your brain. Each one flashes, almost too quickly to follow. A man is standing, but quickly falls. The object cracks against his knee. You see a man's face. You see the red slop that remains on the floor. Blood. A man's body quivers and jerks. The fingers and the arm draw up like a bird's claw. Nerves still shoot in the body.

The flashes of light stop. Your chest is heaving. Somewhere in the room, a shrill scream fills the air. You taste copper. It's dripping from your nose. Glancing down, you stare at the body at your feet in horror. Your lip trembles. The tan body still jerks. You can't even look at the soup near his neck.

You gasp in shock. Even as you turn the aluminum bat over in your hand, you can't believe you are holding it. Where the hell did it come from?

She's still screaming. Your gaze slowly floats toward the woman in the corner. The lampshade is tilted beside her, casting an odd glow on her skin. She is so beautiful. The vertigo returns and your stomach twists. Your blood feels like it pumps so hard that it could shoot out of your fingers. You tighten your fists against the feelings.

"Stop! Don't you come near me!"

Your eyes roll into your head once more as another jolt of images surges into your brain. Again, it only takes a few seconds. Two walls. A corner. Metal collides with a skull. Hair and tooth and bone. It isn't a head anymore.

The room rushes back at you and you stare at the crumpled corpse in the corner. The very sight of it causes you to recoil and stumble backward. You fall to the floor. The aluminum bat drops from your hands. Shaking your head, you deny its existence. You never picked it up. You've never seen it before. The walls are red. You can't look anywhere without seeing something horrible. You squeeze your eyes shut. There's no way to keep your heart from pounding. You start to run your hand through your hair but immediately recoil in disgust at the warmth that touches your head. Thoughts seem like voices.

Speaking aloud, you retrace your steps to your own sanity.

"No, no, no, I... I was being attacked... it's a dream... those things chased me in here, they were after me, those people... they were after me, I ran in here. I was hiding, I was running!"

The music changes. Trumpets softly signal the beginning of a song. A gently galloping drum beat rolls into the room. You stare wide eyed at the radio on the nightstand. It's a song you recognize, a romantic melody. A man's soothing voice drifts out.

~ I... I'm so... in love, with you....~

You're shaking uncontrollably. Somehow, you find a way to rise to your feet, but you refuse to stare at the carnage in the room. Those people, those two happy lovers... what the hell happened?

"Is it truly still a mystery?"

You whirl at the sound of the voice. Scanning the room behind you, you wait to see a man, a woman, a person, anyone that the voice may have belonged to. Only darkness shrouds the wall... except for the candle burning at the desk. Squinting, you realize that there's someone, or something, seated at that desk. At first it just looks like more darkness. You can see it though.

It's a hooded robe. The person is seated with their back towards you.

For several seconds, you stare, trying to blink away the blood and the dizziness. Your throat feels too sore to force the words, but the figure in the dark hooded robe speaks again.

"Come now. You've made it this far. No sense in being shy now."

It's a man's voice, calm and distant. The hooded head turns slightly, but you can't catch a glimpse of the person's face. Everything seems so out of place. The gently humming romantic tune, the bodies strewn about the floor, and now this odd man seated at the desk. You dare to take a step closer, but an overwhelming sense of dread washes over you. It's like the dark around the man snickers at you. Every sense you have is repulsed by the hooded figure.

"What... what is happening? Who are you and... and what is this place?" You ask, your voice cracking.

The hood turns again. "It's your home, of course. Always has been. And always will be."

You shake your head defiantly. Anger fills your gut. "No. No, this isn't. This is... this is some nightmare."

The hood turns away again, but the voice continues.

"You know, crimes of passion are always the most tragic. Love can drive us to do wonderful things, it can make us feel so alive, like no other thing in the world exists, except that one other person or that one sensation."

You watch the figure move. The sound of a page turning catches your ear. You glare at the hooded man in utter confusion. He continues talking.

"Love can also drive us to do terrible things. So potent is its touch that we long to keep it to ourselves, and woe to the ones that come between us and our passion... even if the passion has long since left."

You can't take anymore of the nonsense. "What are you talking about? Who are you! What is going on!"

The hooded man turns... completely. You step back at the sight of the blank face behind the drooping cowl. Terror skitters down your skin like a hundred spider legs. You recall the faces of those people in the hall.

"Those people in the hall?" The faceless figure asks suddenly. "Do you still not recognize what you did? Do you still think this a dream? That you will wake up?"

Your mouth opens but you don't even know what to say. Your head is still shaking. Each breath you take feels forced, like at any moment you will collapse from the denial you feel.

The hooded man motions. "Have a look. See what your passion brought you to do. Look upon their faces that you deny even in death. The face of your spouse. The face of the cheater. This is your story. You cannot change what has been written. Only what will be written."