Dreaming

It's been fun,
Dreaming with you.
Even if
It could not be.
All must end,
This dream is through.
Return to
Reality.

Torrid Waves and Virulent Masses

It is cold and lonely in my head.
There is not much light.

But through torrid waves and virulent masses,
I will see through this night.

On they come with such great gusto.
Pallid corpses left in their wake.

With lies and deceit to spin a golden thread,
So many faces do they take.

Flame does come and ebb and flow.
Its doctrine long and wordy.

So many bent and crooked beneath
The structure ever sturdy.

Yet through the dark, dusty, dank
There is no end in sight.

For one loan rider, magnificent, brilliant,
Will flex and flash with might.

Never before and never again
This conflict is eternal.

For when all is done, the dark has won,
There will be of hope a kernel.

It seeds and creeps and cuts and grows
Like acid on the skin.

To rear its head from graves long dead
With birth of a new sin.

Times Forgotten (Post Five)

Baldrik had chosen the smallest and oldest of the stone huts, set far back and away from the rest of the way-station.  Like the others, it was intricately carved with the blocky designs and patters common to the dwarves.  The snake-like dragon Rigzban could be seen curling his way from the depths of the Black Mountain, a retelling of the exodus of the dwarves from their homeland thousands of years past.  Other stories dotted the building, scenes both considered true and fictional but important to the dwarvish history nonetheless.  Time and weather had faded them, but it did not take from their beauty.

Alec brushed his hand over the carvings as he entered, stopping for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark interior.  Baldrik had covered the lone window with a cloth and lit a fire, its smoke making the hut hazy and rather stifling to the human's nose.  "I see you've made yourself at home..."  He turned to the dwarf who was sitting on the stone bench built into one of the walls.  "Though we will be leaving shortly.  I want to give the men the night to rest and pack, then by daybreak we leave for Gaewyn and your audience with the King."  Alec shifted one of the belts holding his cloak up as he watched the old Dwarf.

Baldrik set down the pair of leather gloves he had been mending before looking up.  "Ay, I be figgrin' we be leaving soon.  Alls th' better.  Gets me back to me forges faster."  He stood and moved over to his dark leather bags, tossing the gloves onto the pile.  "Though I also be figgrin that's not why you be here right now."  He kept his back turned as he began rummaging through one of the packs.

Alec cleared his throat, "What happened in the forest?"

"Can't be sayin'."  The dwarf kept his attention on whatever he was looking for.

"But you would have had to see something.  One minute I was there on that cart, the next I wasn't."  Alec pounded his fist into his palm.  "What did you see, Good Dwarf?"

Baldrik turned to look at Alec over his shoulder, his eyes dark and serious.  "I see'd you jumpin' from that cart an' runnin' off into th' woods like a mad-man.  That's what I see'd."  He turned his back again, still shifting things about in the pack.

"But... But I didn't.  That's not what I did.  You were just gone."

"Then why do you be asking me what I see'd if you already know?"  Finding what he was looking for, the dwarf stood and turned, something wrapped in a purple velvet cloth in his heavy hand.  "In any case, if you be heading through those woods again, make sure y'er carrying this."  He held the small package out for Alec to take, the delicate fabric strange in his rough fingers.  Baldrik pulled it back at the last moment as Alec reached for it, "Don't be opening it 'till ye need it." He extended the velvet wrapped item again, this time allowing Alec to take it.

"It's... Heavy.  What is it?"  Alec shifted it from hand to hand, noting the tiny gold stitch work along the edges of the velvet.  "It's Elvish."

"The fabric?  Ay.  But what's inside is much, much older."

Alec looked at the soft purple fabric for a moment before tucking it into a pouch at his side.  "But you can't tell me anything about what it does?"

"I could, but what fun would it be?"  The dwarf smiled a toothy grin and chuckled.  Alec grimaced in response.  "Be about yer men.  We survived, and now we need ter move.  The King is waiting."  With that Baldrik grabbed his gloves back up and returned to his task, ending the conversation.

Alec watched Baldrik for a moment, more than a little frustrated by the dwarf's refusal of a clear answer.  "Just be ready to leave by daybreak.  We can't lose any time."  A grunt was all he received in reply.  The weapons master turned to leave, ready to be back out in the fresh air.  dwarven society flourished in the smoky, soot-filled air of their dark tunnels.  Humans, on the other hand, could find it rather oppressive.

Kalif was waiting outside, leaning against the corner of the building, still playing with his bruised nose.  "It'll never heal properly if you keep prodding at it."

The Second looked up, quickly removing his hand from his face.  "I know, but it's gone numb.  Such a strange feeling."

"Well, if it heals odd, then I guess you'll have to come up with a good story for it.  You don't want everyone knowing it was a punch from your delirious captain."    Kalif scoffed.  "In any case, let the men know we leave at first light.  Eat well, sleep well, and pack up by morning.  Be about it."  The Second saluted and turned towards the main cluster of the camp, leaving Alec alone outside the small stone hut.

He made his way back towards his tent.  He had much to get done before they left in the morning, and time was quickly running out.

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Times Forgotten (Post Four)

They had camped at an old way-station, an outpost that was often used by travelers and merchants when they had business with the Iron Wells.  His men's tents, made of deep crimson and bright yellow fabric and emblazoned with the bust of a golden ram, were easy to pick out in the quickly thinning forest.  He could see that they had already begun setting up a central fire and pulling out a large cast-iron cook pot.

Alec's belly rumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten since he left the camp that morning.  Food had not been an issue since their departure from Gaewyn, something that his group was certainly not used to; the hardships of war extended well beyond the ends of each battle.  No, the luxury of stopping at each town and city had kept their pack animals loaded and their bellies full.  The King's coin made sure of it.

His men saluted their commander casually as he walked by, many with a quick glib aimed at Kalif who still followed close behind.  The bleeding had stopped, but his nose was still very red; Alec's fist had made a solid connection.  The Second just glared at them, sometimes coming back with a retort of his own.  Alec just laughed, keeping the uneasiness he felt buried deep inside.  It wasn't every day that things of this nature happened, and he didn't want to worry his men more than he needed to.  Besides, as far as he could tell, there was no serious harm done and he had received the worst of it by far.

It wasn't long before they came to the entrance of a tent with three gold streamers flying from an extended central mast, marking it as Alec's.  "Find Firehammer.  Tell him that I should want to see him shortly."  He shifted and fidgeted in his gilded and polished officer armor.  Not meant for battle, it was lighter than the plate that he normally wore, but stiff and uncomfortable from disuse.  "I want to get out of this formal gear and into something more appropriate, and then I must talk to him."  He turned to Kalif and clapped the man on the shoulder in dismissal.  His second saluted and made his way towards one of the old stone structures at the back of the way station.

Alec sighed and undid the strap holding his tent closed. The cool, dark interior that greeted him was refreshing though he knew that he couldn't stay for long.  He tossed his bright red cloak onto a stand and began undoing his stiff, uncomfortable armor.  As he stretched for the rear clasps holding his cuirass, his fingers brushed over some strange marks in the metal.  He pulled the plate off and turned it around, startled to find claw-marks etched deep into the decorative gilding.  Claw marks that had not been there when he put the armor on.

A shudder ran through him as he laid the piece down on his cot.  Not many things had that effect on the weapons master, but being so helpless and close to death reminded him of just how small he was.  Indeed, he was nothing more than a single officer in a vast army, easily replaceable and easily forgotten.  The world and everything that happened in it was beyond him.  The balance of power, ever changing as it was, left him feeling like a piece of wood floating in frothy white rapids.  If left unchecked, he couldn't help but feel swept up in it all.

He quickly turned the plate over, not wanting to dwell any longer, and continued to pull off the rest of his rigid armor.  A groan of relief left him as he finally shrugged out of his red velvet covered arming doublet, heaping the padded garment with the rest of his Officer's armor as he stretched his sore shoulders and back.  Even if the riding was smooth, it should be at least a couple weeks before he would have need of the flashy armor again, and he couldn't be more glad.  Finery had never held any attraction for him, as it only seemed to complicate things.  Oftentimes, simplicity was much more useful.

Alec pulled off his damp undershirt and tossed it aside.  A bucket of cold, clean water sat next to his cot, a cloth laid neatly over the edge.  He made quick work of washing up; the air was much warmer at the base of the mountain, but the early nip of winter could already be felt.  He quickly tugged on a clean undershirt before selecting a dark blue shirt to go over it.  Though much less formal, the shirt still held the gold Ram Insignia on his left breast and sported three gold bands around each cuff to represent his rank.  His fine, light-brown paints with gold embroidery were replaced with another, still brown but lacking the fine stitch-work.  His polished black boots were replaced with a plain, dark brown pair that was much more suited for the long ride back to Gaewyn.  Finally, he threw a dark red cloak around his shoulders.  The trailing edge held the three bars of his rank, and the clasp had the Ram etched into its gold surface.

With one last stretch and a quick smoothing of his garments, Alec pulled open the entrance to his tent and stepped back out into the light.  Kalif stood to the side, ready to escort Alec to the dwarf.  "He's waiting for you in one of the old stone huts back this way." The Second gestured to the line of old stone structures left from when the Dwarves first moved in to the Iron Well.  With Alec's nod, he turned to lead the way.

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Times Forgotten (Post Three)

Alec realized that he was more nervous now than he had been in a very long time.  Numerous battles had come and gone, his life dangling on a wire many-a-time, and still they could not match the tension that had seeped into him now.  He had to remind himself to breath, slowly and evenly, or else he would never be able to react in time should something actually happen.  He glanced back off into the darkness.  Now is not the time to forget his training.

Alec returned his gaze forward, only it was no longer what had been there before.  Instead he found himself looking back into the trees where that darkness waited.  He shuddered and closed his eyes but when he opened them, nothing had changed.  Then he realized that the horse was gone.  Baldrik was no longer beside him on the bench.  Instead it was just him, alone, surrounded by ancient trees and looking straight into the darkness now looming ahead.  A darkness that was now seemingly alive and creeping forward.

He tried to call out, but his voice failed him.  In fact, his entire body was rooted to the spot.  His sword sat in his lap, hand on the pommel, but he could will nothing to move.  Instead he sat, transfixed on the now smoke-like shadows.  Tendrils twined and snaked, disturbed by an unfelt breeze, as they wormed their way forward.  A subtle hiss could be heard as dropped pine needles scattered in the passing.

Suddenly it was cold, colder than any winter storm Alec had felt.  His breath puffed unsteadily in the chill but his brow continued to bead sweat.  His fingers twitched uselessly over his sword.  Still the smoke rolled forward.  He could smell it now, like stale air trapped for far too long.  His vision began to blur as his eyes watered from the cold.

Soon it stopped, a smoky wall swirling no more than an arm's length from where Alec sat frozen in his seat.  His past rolled through his head.  He thought of all the times that he should have been dead, all the wounds that he had taken in the service of his king.  It stung him that, after it was all said and done, he should leave this world in such a helpless state.  His teeth gritted as he stared the darkness down.  The least he could do was look death in the face.

Suddenly, many hands shot out of the smoke like snakes.  Grey, peeling skin rasped like leaves as their long, spindly fingers grabbed at Alec, pulling him off his seat and hoisting him into the air.  A strange face slowly rose from the smoke, gaunt skin was pulled tight over too-high cheekbones and a long, narrow chin.  Silver teeth glistened from under parched lips, and shriveled lids hung over empty eye sockets.  Wisps of grey smoke curled from every orifice.

It rose slowly, shoulders sharp and angular soon leaning forward, bringing the face inches from Alec's.  He could feel his body trembling despite his best wishes.  Hands moved to cradle the weapons master's head, forcing him to look deep into the dry, empty sockets of the creature.

"Blood of the Haz'Raith, soul of the Redkin.  Mountains shall fall in his passing.  Dust to those who follow."  It drew him closer still, its nails digging into his temples as silver teeth began to gnash.  Then it was gone.

Alec's vision blurred and he slumped.  He was aware of being shaken, but not much else.  For a few brief seconds in his stupor he thought the creature had come back.  Instinct took over and he threw a fist, guessing as best as he could where his foe was.  It made contact with a crack and a yowl.  And oddly human yowl.

He shook his head and did his best to blink the haze away.  As his vision slowly cleared he could make out men surrounding him.  His second in command, Kalif, sat back a few feet nursing a bloody nose.  A steady stream of curses could be heard coming from him.

"What happened?"  Alec rubbed his bruised knuckles with his other hand.  He was still a little light headed from his ordeal.

"You damn near leveled Kalif, sir."  The casual reply received a few snickers from the group of men standing around.

"You'd be out cold if it had been you!"  Kalif's retort was muffled through blood and his hands.  The men laughed.

"No, no.  I see that, and I am truly sorry Kalif, but what happened?  How did I get here?"  He looked past the men to see that they were in a clearing somewhere in the younger, outer layers of the forest.  Neither the cart or Baldrik were anywhere in sight.  "Where is Firehammer?"

"Firehammer is fine.  After you disappeared, he steered the cart to the camp and got us out looking for you."  Alec had always kept and easy air with his closest men and so they felt confident speaking to him as an equal.  His ability to keep level with them is part of what gained him such great respect in the ranks.  "As to how you got here?  We were hoping that you could tell us."

The men became serious and all eyes turned to him.  Alec firmed his jaw and stood, if a bit shakily, with the aid of the tree at his back.  "I can't rightly say what happened.  I'm not even sure if I know myself.  I have no memory of ending up here, or even leaving the cart for that matter."  He turned to look back into the forest, a brief shudder running through him, but he checked it before his men could notice.  "Though I suppose the important thing is that Baldrik is safe.  For now, let us return to camp and prepare for the night.  We leave at dawn tomorrow."

His men snapped their heels in attention and saluted before turning back towards camp.  Kalif, still covering his nose with a bloody cloth, waited behind with Alec.  "Sir, forgive me, but are sure that you are alright?"

"That I am, Kal."  He put a hand on his second's shoulder in reassurance.  "I don't know what happened, but a little food and some rest will have me back to top shape."  He looked around again, absently rubbing his chin in thought.  "On that note, where exactly are we?"  All he could see were trees beyond the clearing.  Any smoke from the camp was still hidden by the canopy above.

"We're about a half mile south east of the camp right now.  It's a fairly easy walk"  Kal gestured in the direction of the camp as he spoke.

"Then we best get back.  I need to talk to Firehammer immediately."  Alec took a step and stumbled, still feeling weaker than he expected to.  Kal caught him and supported him by his shoulders.  With his second's aid, Alec started towards the trees again in silence.  He had a lot to think about, and many unanswered questions floated through his head.  Hopefully Baldrik would be able to shed some light for him.

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Times Forgotten (Post Two)

Fortunately, though it was still a ways off, the smoke from his men's fire was easy to see over the treetops, the lazy grey streamer drifting up into the crystal blue sky.  They had been lucky that the mountains had blessed them with a rare bit fair weather, something that would soon become a memory once winter fully descended the rocky slopes.  Alec looked up at the snowy peaks of the Thorn Mountains, well aware that their storms are the stuff of legends.  Many men, both friend and foe of the dwarves, had been lost in sudden whips of lethal fury from these mountains.  Survivors would tell stories about how the roaring winds would hurl the snow so hard that any exposed skin would be worn raw in minutes.

He also knew that, despite the untouched look of this particular peak, named Rorrin's Horn after Baldrik's ancient ancestor, the dwarves had many eyes watching them at all times.  Story told that the entire mountain had been turned into a winding network of tunnels and lookouts, masterfully crafted in such a way that the untrained eye would never see them.  Dwarves could be devilishly sneaky creatures when it came to protecting their secrets.  The man sighed and returned his attention to the path ahead of them.

As they travelled farther and farther down into the tree line, leaving that area above which nothing grew, it became harder and harder to pick out the camp's fire.  Soon they were enveloped in a mass of towering, ancient pines that cut off everything but brief glimpses of the sky directly above.  It was deceptively peaceful, the sounds and smells of the forest so serene and seemingly untouched.  Yet any wise man knew that ancient trees often harbored ancient creatures who would fiercely protect their home.  This place was no exception.  Between the unforgiving mountains and the surrounding forest, it was not hard to understand why the Iron Wells remained hidden for so long.

Indeed, even one as experienced with a blade as Alec could feel worry here.  He reached over and checked that his sword was close by and ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.  Even Baldrik had stopped his muttering and was warily watching the surrounding trees.

"You dwarves surely know how to pick a perfect spot to call home..."  Alec tried his best to release at least some of his tension.  There was nothing to be alarmed of.  Yet.

"Aye, we do be knowing the value of our home."  Baldrik still sounded distant, but his eyes were sharp.  "Asides, what we be here for lies 'neath us. We don't be caring too much for what's up here."

The dwarf's ability to insert his disdain for the surface into almost anything he said was astounding.  Alec just shook his head again; "Yes, I know."

They fell back into silence as both were too involved in watching and listening to the forest around them.  Even the horses were listening.  Their ears were flicking wildly, and they hardly made a noise but for the sound of their hooves in the dead pine needles on the ground for there was no paved path for them to follow.  Instead Alec guided his wagon through the woods following subtle markers and clues placed by the dwarves.  Things simple as a fallen tree, positioned just so, or a pile of rocks that, to any untrained passerby, would seem completely natural.  Dwarves could be sneaky, but these were exceptionally so.

"We be watched.  And it aint me boys."  Baldrik's voice was low and gruff.  He still seemed outwardly uninterested, but there was a hint of the tension now built up in the stubby dwarf's body: the tip of a studded mace could be seen sticking out from under the folds of his heavy cloak.

A subtle nod of Baldrik's head directed Alec's hooded gaze to the right of the wagon, off into the dark thicket of trees.  The gloom was so heavy that the man could hardly see anything, but he could almost feel whatever was watching them, lurking just out of eyesight.  The small hairs on the back of his neck prickled.  "Can you tell what it is?"

"Aint no way to be knowin'.  Most men 'er dead that's seen what be out here."  He paused and rubbed a finger under his nose, sniffling heavily before returning his hand to his cloak.  "Though I don't be thinkin' we in trouble just yet. 'Else it wouldn't a showed isself."

Alec supposed the old dwarf had a point.  Part of him found it odd that the tribe of the Iron Well would allow their founder and leader to tread this dangerous path out of the peak.  He supposed that the dwarves in all their secrecy saw move value in keeping their cards close than in a single, albeit legendary, dwarf smith.  It might even have been at Baldrik's command: regardless of how things turned out, the forges would still be burning long after Baldrik Firehammer joined his ancestors in the hallowed halls of the afterlife.

The weapons master continued to glance in the direction of whatever was following them between course adjustments.  He never once caught a glimpse of it beyond a darker shadow shrouded in even more shadow.  He found the sudden silence unsettling.  Besides the creaking of the wagon and the clop of hooves through the underbrush, there was not a sound to be heard.  Any breeze had gone still, birds and forest critters had ceased what they were doing.  It felt almost as if one giant, collective breath was being held in anticipation for what would come next.

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A Horrible Dream (Post Fifteen)

The steady drip of water is what brought her out of her dream.  She sat up, her thoughts fuzzy and thick.  Lethargy was set deep in her muscles like she hadn't moved in a week.  The room was dark and deathly silent.  She couldn't hear any of the normal sounds of the cabin and that struck her as odd.  Normally the old walls creaked or the trees were heard rustling outside.  Now there was nothing.

Sam looked around, her head refusing to make sense of anything.  She felt numb.  There were dark forms on the floor and the smell of turned earth in the air.  The cold stone slab beneath her felt rough on her skin.  Why there was a cold stone slab, she didn't know.  She shivered, rubbing her arms, suddenly aware that she was naked.  Where she was and how she got there was a mystery to her.  The last thing she could recall was going upstairs to close the crawlspace but nothing more.  Everything beyond that was hazy at best.

As feeling seeped back in to her, she realized that she was sore.  Her shoulders felt like they had been twisted in their sockets and her hands felt raw.  Sweat covered her and burned as it seeped into what had to be hundreds of cuts all over her body.  Some of them seemed to form patterns but she couldn't make them out in the gloom.

She jumped back onto the slab with a gasp when she went to stand, shocked by the clammy wet mud that her feet found on the floor.  It finally struck her that she was no longer in the cabin.  She slowly stepped back into the mud, intent on one of the mounds on the floor.  Kneeling in the dark, she reached out and touched it, recoiling when she felt the smooth skin of a person.  Rolling the body over, she fell back into the mud with a scream upon seeing the wide, glazed eyes of Jack staring back at her.  The other mounds became apparent as bodies, none of which were moving.

From the floor she noticed something above her.  Two little purple orbs floated there in the dark, like gems being lit from behind.  Something about them felt so wrong, but so very inviting, like she had seen them before.  She looked away for a second, but when she looked back they were gone.  Nothing but the gloomy shadows remained.

She stood, wrapping he arms around her chest both for warmth and to cover herself.  She was shivering, the cool, clammy air quickly chilling her.  She wanted to cry but something prevented her.  Suddenly she felt someone behind her, standing just close enough for her to know they were there.

Sam realized that she couldn't move, her body frozen in place.  The only movement she could manage was the soft shivering of both fear and cold.  Whoever was behind her moved closer, touched her, pressed against her.  The contact was warm, almost searing hot on her skin.  She tried to recoil but couldn't.   Inhumanly dark, rough arms wrapped around her shoulders and grabbed her head, turning it to one side.

"The lineage lives on..."  The whisper of a thousand voices echoed in her ear.  The creature's sickeningly hot breath rolled over her and her stomach started to churn yet she still couldn't move.  It held her for a moment longer, making no more sounds.

Then, as quickly as it came, she was alone.  Her knees buckled and she fell into the mud, curling into a protective ball.  Tears flooded to her eyes and she sobbed silently, still unsure of what had happened.  She spent a long time there before she tried to stand again, suddenly needing to find a way out.  Something was still there with her, watching and waiting as she stumbled around the bodies of her friends towards the only tunnel out.  It could be heard slinking along, the mud slopping around it as it moved.

Sam tried her best to keep moving, to ignore it, but it was no use.  It was getting closer with every step.  She turned, unable to keep her nerves any more, but stopped in silence when she found a small girl there, standing silently in the dark.  Her dark hood shrouded her face, but she couldn't be more than five or six years old.

For some reason Sam felt the need to help the girl, comfort her.  "How did you get down here?"  She knelt down and reached her hand out, "Don't worry, it'll be okay..."

Suddenly the girl's face shifted into that of a grotesque grin, her eyes blazing with purple flames.  She laughed before leaping at Sam, easily pulling her to the ground.  In seconds, everything faded again.

When Sam next awoke, she was in her chair in the cabin.  She was still naked, but all of the mud, cuts, and scrapes were gone.  Instead there was just a small gold chain around her neck, a tiny black amulet hanging from it.  She looked up and both her parents were there on the loveseat across from her, holding hands and smiling mechanically at her.  Both wore a matching gold chain and amulet.

"wha-What are you doing here?"

They just looked at each other before turning back to her, still smiling.  Behind them, on the stairs, there were two little purple orbs buried in the shadows.  Sam tried to scream but realized she had no control of her body.  Instead, she stood up from the chair and moved to kneel before her parents.  Their faces had begun to change, deep crags and rifts splitting the flesh.  Still they smiled, both placing a now-clawed hand on her shoulders, and saying "Welcome home, daughter."

The Times Forgotten (Post One)

"It's too damned cold out here." The old dwarf shivered further into his fur-lined cloak and pulled his scarf up over his knobby nose.  His stubby toes were wiggling in his old but sturdy boots as they dangled over the wagon's seat edge.  His companion just looked over and chuckled at the grumpy dwarf before turning back to the reins in his hands.

"Come now, you can't say that this is anything you've never experienced before!"  He cast out a hand to gesture at the forest around them, barely white from the season's first snow.  "It's hardly cold enough to see one's own breath!"

"Aye, I feeled it afore. Dun mean I liked it."  He grumbled some more while continuing to huddle back into his cloak.  "Asides, I aint no damned surface creature."  He pounded his fist on the side of the wagon before hastily withdrawing it into his warm coverings and grumbling all the louder.

"My, if you keep scooting back into that cloak, I fear that you will plain disappear."  He reached out to pat the surly dwarf on the shoulder, still chuckling.

"I din ask ter be out here.  I din ask ter come. Aint where I'm posed to be."  His long, braided, fire-orange and grey-streaked beard waggled from under his scarf as he complained, almost like it had some life of its own.  The charms and binders woven into it clanked and chattered with the movement, the metal and stone sounding sharp against his gravelly voice, already muffled by his scarf as it was.  "I'm apposed to be at the forges.  Fire and steel are apposed ter be in my hands."  It was easy to see the dwarf's thick hands flexing under his cloak in remembrance of their tools as he spoke.  His eyes stared off distantly.

"We shall be back in the halls of the Iron Well before you know it.  Have no fear.  I understand this is not what you wanted."  He patted the dwarf on the shoulder again, only this time sympathetically.  The gruff creature hardly noticed.

Indeed the old dwarf had been the last one wanting to undertake this journey.  He had spent the last two hundred of his three hundred years among his brethren deep in the caverns of the Iron Forge, bending steel and stone to his will, shaping some of the most beautiful armor and weapons the land of Airins Gale had ever seen.  So good were they that some said they rivaled relics from the Times Forgotten, pieces created by beings of old using magics that had long since been erased from memory.  This was Baldrik Firehammer, the most renowned smith any land had seen in generations, and he did not take lightly to being pulled from his home among the fires.

His companion, a weapons master known as Alec the Blooded, had been sent with ten of his best men to escort the smith to the city of Gaewyn, the capital of Airins Gale.  The king, Haethryn of the Golden Steps, had requested an audience with a member of the Firehammer clan to thank them for their support in his war of ascension.  Since he first lit its fires, Baldrik had almost never been seen to leave the Well. That the new king was able to force the old dwarf out was just a show to help cement Haethryn's title.

"Had I knowed he's goin ter pull me out, I'da never sold tha fool boy me blades.  I can't stand none o' these politics.  Leave a nasty taste in me mouth."  Baldrik briefly pulled his scarf down and spat over the side of the wagon before covering his nose again, still fuming.  Alec watched him grimly, knowing full well that the dwarf was known for his anger and hot words, but not able to easily accept slander against his king.  Still, he kept his mouth shut.

For a while the only sound coming from the two was the constant grumbling and moaning of the dwarf.  Alec had decided it was best to leave the smith to his misery since nothing seemed to lighten the mood.  Instead he paid full attention to the woods around them.  His men had to camp a ways down the mountain face due to the dwarves' fear of drawing attention to the exact location of the entrance to the Iron Well.  So he knew that he and the smith were vulnerable in the time until they joined back up with his troop.  Baldrik could fetch a pretty penny on any day and he had made plenty of enemies in the ascension of the Golden Steps.  It was well known that his clan's work had enabled Haethryn to win the war.

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A Horrible Dream (Post Fourteen)

Suddenly the world came back to him.  It was still pouring rain, harder than it had the entire trip.  If it wasn't for the headlights, the car would have been lost behind a curtain of water.  Instead the beams waved eerily in the deluge, shining bright onto the side of the house.  He took a quick look back at the closed door and ran, more to get as much distance between him and the house than to get out of the rain.

Beth threw the door open as he came near and he jumped in, slamming the door shut behind him.  "Where is she?  Where is Sam?  She's coming, right?"  Beth was doing her best to stare through the glass, distorted by the rain as it was.  There wasn't much to see.

"No.  No, she... She's not.  I don't know where she is.  Something's not right.  Something about her is not right."  He did his best to wipe the dripping water from his face, but it was of little use.  The others just stared at him in silence, not sure what to say or what to do.  He shuddered, cold from the rain and just shaken to his core.  "We need to go."  Marla hesitated behind the wheel, not wanting to leave Sam. "Go!"  She jumped at his harshness and threw the car into reverse.  He sighed and leaned his sopping head back against the seat, closing his eyes and gulping air.  It was only now just hitting him what he had experienced.  It made no sense.  It terrified him.

"Are you okay?"  It was Beth.  Her hand found his shoulder and he looked at her, though didn't really see her.

"I'm fine.  I just need to catch my breath."  He was still reliving the house.  The creature at the bottom of the stairs lurked in his mind, its swaying causing his head to throb and his stomach to churn.  Resigning himself to the fact that Sam is gone was difficult.  She was right there in front of him, just sitting there.  He couldn't explain what had happened.  It all seemed like a dream. Just a horrible, horrible dream.

"It was horrible wasn't it?"  Jack's voice sounded dry and cracked, so small in the tiny pace of the car.  He looked at Jack and found his hollow eyes staring back, unwavering with the sway of the car making its way down the long, unpaved drive.  "The voices.  They don't stop."  Jack's gaze seemed to withdraw into himself, his eyes glazing over as he sunk back into his own personal nightmare.  Eventually Jack swiveled back towards the front, still muttering about the voices.  Beth had gone silent as well, her hand still on his shoulder, her fingers absently squeezing.  The real touch felt good after what he had seen in the house.

Suddenly Marla screamed and the car hit something then swerved off the gravel road.  They slid sideways through the mud a ways before the car came to a stop facing the opposite direction.  The four sat silently, eyes wide and breathing heavily.  Beth started asking around if everyone was alright.  Jack slid down in his seat and was holding his head.  He was visibly trembling now, his hands clamped tight to his ears.

Marla turned to him and tried to help him sit up.  He refused and pulled deeper into his curl.  "Jack, what?  Are you alright?"  She pulled at his hands but he shrugged her off and turned away as best he could.  He was mumbling something under his breath and there was blood starting to run around his hands.  "Jack, sit up so I can see you!  Are you alright?"  Marla was more forcibly pulling at him but he continued to refuse.

"Make it stop."  It was quiet but his voice was audile now.  Marla stopped and asked him what he said.  "Make it stop."  He repeated it over and over again.

"Jack.  Alright.  I stopped.  Jack, what's wrong?"  Marla seemed to be at a loss her; voice was soft and quiet.  She rubbed his back, but even that seemed to make Jack cringe.  Still he continued muttering.

Everyone jumped when Beth let out a scream and pointed out the front of the car.  Except for Jack, their gazes all followed her finger out the windshield and into the rain.  Sam was there, standing in the eerie glow of the headlights.  Her hair was down and partially covering her face, the rain making it stringy and heavy.  She was wearing a simple white dress now, stained on the chest by something dark.  Her hands hung limply at her sides and her one visible eye was half closed and lazily staring at nothing in front of her.  She continued to sway, just as before, but the rain and distance made it impossible to hear if she was still humming.

At that moment Jack sat up screaming, "MAKE IT STOP!"  His hands clawed at his ears, the skin now ripped and gouged as his fingers worked.  He turned to the door and fumbled with the latch, throwing it open and bolting from the car into the dark, wet woods.  His screaming echoed into the distance.  Marla called after him but was unable to get out due to a tree pinning her door shut.

When they looked back, Sam was gone.  "Wher- Sam.  Sam's gone again.  Where?"  Beth's eyes were wide and her breathing was rapid as she swiveled to look out all sides of the car.  She turned back towards the front of the car and sank into the seat, her shoulders slack and head down.  "I just want to go home."  Her soft whimper could barely be heard.  "I want to get out of here."

"I know.  We all do."  He put his arm around her and pulled her shaking form close.  She leaned into him and continued crying, burying her head in his shoulder.

Marla was still freaking out about Jack.  She ripped her seatbelt off and scrambled over the center console of the car, cursing when she banged her knee on the gear shifter.  Then she was out of the car and running off into the woods after Jack, whose screams could still be heard, albeit faintly over the rain.  Beth had picked her head up and was staring after Marla, her eyes wet and heavy with tears.

He looked past Beth and out the window behind her.  There were two purple orbs glowing faintly in the dark woods, unmoving and menacing in the distance.  He placed his hand on the back of her head and gently pushed it back down into his shoulder, comforting her.  She hugged him tight.  Jack's screams had stopped now.  "It'll be alright.  We'll get home.  Don't worry."  He continued talking to her softly, promising her that there was nothing to worry about, all the while watching the orbs.  This all had to be just a dream.  A horrible, horrible dream.

A Horrible Dream (Post Thirteen)

He was half way through standing up, his knees shaking so bad that gaining his feet was near impossible, when suddenly the door slammed shut behind him.  It sent him sprawling again, scrambling for the stairs as fast as he could.  He could swear that there were heavy, dragging footsteps following him, and the sound of nails scraping against the painted walls.  He would have looked back if fear wasn't driving him forward.

It took seconds for him to reach the top step, though it felt more like hours.  However, he stopped cold in his tracks as soon as he looked down the flight.  The shadows were thick and heavy, swirling like the smoke from dry ice.  They seemed to coalesce into a form, slowly fading in and out from existence at the bottom of the stairs.  At times it looked like a small girl, her head shrouded in a dark hood.  Then it would shift again, all semblance of humanity gone, and a grotesque hulk would be there instead.  Both girl and beast seemed to be swaying; the haunting lullaby of a thousand voices that was floating through the air seemed to be keeping them captivated.

He stayed there at the top of the stairs on his hands and knees, not wanting to go further but not able to tear his eyes away from the sight below him.  He realized that he was shivering, his body shuddering uncontrollably from fear.  His hot breath puffed white in front of his face, the air suddenly very cold.  It felt as if some kind of pressure was building again, and soon he could sense someone or something behind him, waiting impatiently.  He swallowed hard but was unable to rip his gaze from the mesmerizing shadows below him.

Suddenly there was a crack.  He couldn't tell if it was real or all in his head, but the pressure released all in one beat of a heart.  In that moment the smoke stopped swaying and shifting, the beast taking the place of the girl, and a grotesque face of the darkest black snapped up to look at him.  Deep into him.  Its purple eyes, nothing more than specks in its skull, bored into him and tore at his soul.  In the next heartbeat it was grinning at him.  Something screamed from the hallway behind him and a hard shove sent him tumbling down the stairs, right into the misty arms of the beast.

The roar of the moment was deafening, his ears left ringing and his eyes blinded as his head hit something very, very hard.  It took him a second to regain his senses.  He had passed through the thing.  A look up the stairs revealed nothing but the swirling, inky shadows that had been there before, but no beast.  No purple eyes.  His stomach still curdled from the sight.  He just wanted to close his eyes and forget it was all happening.  Better yet, he just wanted to wake up because this all had to be a dream.  Nothing but a horrible, horrible dream.

The blare of a car horn brought him out of his stupor.  It came again and again, sounding as urgent as a horn could.  His friends were trying to get his attention, or just trying to get him to hurry up.  Something must have happened.  Without opening his eyes, he took a deep breath and rushed to the door, fumbling once on the small welcome rug just inside it.  He flung the door wide and opened his eyes.

A Horrible Dream (Post Twelve)

He could see her through the open door, seated in a straight-backed chair and looking out the window with her back to him.  A glass vase sat on a wooden end-table next to her, spring flowers draping in stark contrast to the hysterical sense of panic growing in his chest.  Several picture frames lined the walls, all depicting family and memories from years past.  The tiny twin bed sat sullenly in the corner, its pink sheets grey in the gloom.

Sam didn't move except for her head, which swayed lethargically from side to side as if she was listening to a lullaby.  The rain must have cleared for the moon bathed her, its silvery light strange compared to the deep shadows that enveloped the rest of the room.  Shadows that seemed to move and slither in the corners of his vision.  Always just out of focus.

Taking a tentative step into the room, he swallowed hard in an attempt to wet his dry throat.  More sweat was beginning to trickle down his brow and it caused his skin to crawl.  The air was cool and clammy.  He took one step towards the chair and another after that, his feet feeling leaden.  He nearly leapt out of his skin when the old wood floor creaked beneath his weight.  Suddenly he noticed a faint noise coming from in front of him.  It was Sam.  She was humming.  Her voice was soft, almost inaudible.  The tune carried a dark and eerie tone and rose and fell with her head.  Every once in a while she chuckled to herself, but then always fell back into her humming as if nothing had happened.

"Sam?"  She didn't respond.  Her head just continued to bob, ever so slightly, ever so slowly.  His neck prickled as he heard a whisper from behind him in the dark.  Turning, he saw nothing but the inky blackness of the hallway beyond the room.

"Wh-Who's there?"  His voice cracked as he spoke; the fear taking root in him was now impossible to keep down.  He didn't care.

Another whisper flitted to his ears from just behind him, the words impossible to make out.  He tried to catch the shadows but their movement always stayed just out of his focus.  The next whisper was so close behind him that the hackles on the back of his neck rose.  "We play."  The words felt like ink running down his skin.  Fear told him not to turn around.

A slow and sullen scraping sound grew from the walls, soft as it was menacing, causing him to turn away from the door.  He noticed that the daisy wallpaper had began to peel, cracks ebbing their way through brown stains that seemed to come from nowhere.  More whispers found him from all corners of the room.  Some made no sense; others repeated things that he didn't want to hear.  They described his death and the pain that they could make him feel.  They chided him and cooed to him, whispering sweet and oily nothings into his ear.  It made him cringe and shudder, feeling fowled to his core.

A sudden thumping from behind caused him to swiftly turn around.  The blackness was growing, drinking in what little light was left from the moon.  It was too dark to see clearly, but he was certain that something moved just outside the door, slithering towards the stairs.  The whispering grew more insistent. Something cold brushed against his leg and he knew that he had to get out.

He turned sharply back towards the window, every fiber of his being screaming for him to run.  "SAM!" She was gone.  A cloud must have drifted in front of the moon for the light was suddenly no more.  The flowers were dead and rotting in a cracked, dirty vase.  All of the faces in the pictures were now scratched out or burned.  Through the window he could see the old oak in front of the house.  Something in the branches was watching him; two purple orbs nestled inside of a much larger and darker shadow than anything else surrounding it.  He sat transfixed, unable to move, until suddenly the orbs were gone.  It was as if a switch had been thrown and he ran from the room, tripping in his haste.

He skidded into the hallway face-first, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth from where he bit his lip.  The sound of heavy objects being slid across the floor emanated from the other bedrooms, the closed doors chattering on their hinges.  Many soft voices carried the haunting tune Sam had been humming through the house now.  He scrambled on his hands and knees for the stairs, unsure as to whether or not he really wanted to be outside or inside the house.  Regardless, he still had to find Sam.

A Horrible Dream (Post Eleven)

It was difficult to look ahead.  There was screaming at the back of his mind, telling him to look away.  Telling him to run lest the shadow returned for him.  He realized that he was terrified.  Despite the fact that he is a twenty-year-old grown man, he was terrified of what could be up those stairs.  Years of knowing that ghosts and hauntings weren't real did nothing to calm him.  This sure felt pretty damn real.  Another chill ran up his spine at that thought and he rubbed his arms to help calm his nerves.  Hauntings aren't real.

He stood at the bottom of the steps for a long while, just staring at the dark, shadowed floor in front of him.  He could hear the house creaking above him.  It almost sounded like the wind had picked up outside but for some reason he doubted it.  He was starting to doubt many things.

The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle, a soft sigh seeming to come from nowhere.  Suddenly he spun, falling backwards over the first two steps and onto the landing.  He could have sworn that something touched him and whispered directly into his ear.  His shoulder still tingled where the fingers had been and the feel of warm breath on his ear still sat heavily in his mind.

Leaning against the wall and closing his eyes, he sighed.  There was nothing behind him.  "I swear, this has to be a bad dream."  His fingers became damp with sweat as he wiped his brow.  "No use sitting here... The faster I get up there, the faster I can get out."  Even still, his first few steps up the stairs after standing were hesitant at best.

He noticed as he climbed the steps that the house had gone silent.  Every noise he made seemed amplified, as if it was echoing in a cave around him.  An inky black wall waited at the top of the stairs, almost as if the dark had gathered in that one spot, drinking in any light it could find.  He found himself frozen to the steps just below it, hand plastered to the banister, staring into the haze.  Prying himself loose, he took one more deep breath and stepped forward into the murk.

His stomach curdled as he passed through the wall, the cool clammy air of the main floor giving way to a hot, steamy froth.  The suddenly sticky air tasted sickly in his mouth.  His hand found the wall to steady himself with and he waited there for a moment, trying to get his stomach to stay down.  It seemed no use but was worth a try.  He still could not see.

Suddenly he felt that the house was living again.  He could feel a faint but steady in-and-out breeze moving past him though it did nothing to alleviate the nauseatingly soupy feeling of the air.  The floor beneath him seemed to sway slowly from side to side, not helping his nausea at all.  Despite this, he continued forward.  He realized that now, even his movements were silent as the grave.  The house was so quiet that it was deafening.

The door to the first room was soon under his hand.  The door was closed now.  It wasn't before.  Still, something told him to continue on.  He felt as if he was being pulled further down the dark hallway.  Another door soon passed by, the room with the green bed not feeling right either.  Finally he stopped, standing just outside the room with the pink bed.  He knew this had to be it.  There was no other place for her to be.

He turned slowly, still hardly able to see in the dark.  The door was closed, the knob almost seeming to glow faintly in the gloom.  Everything seemed to be drawing him to that.  There was an air of hauntingly bizarre excitement in the house.  The rhythmic breeze had slowed, then stopped altogether, as he stood there, transfixed by the little round object on the door in front of him.  He slowly reached out and grabbed the knob, another shudder streaking through him as he turned it and pushed the door forward on its hinges.

A Horrible Dream (Post Ten)

Jack was starting to stand, "We need to go.  We have to get out of here.  Now.  Right now."  His voice was quiet and strained.  He nearly tripped over the rug in the middle of the floor in his urgency to get out of the house.  Beth was just as ready to go, moving to help steady Jack.

"What?  What was it?"  Marla hadn't been able to see the stairs but it wasn't hard for her to pick up that the others were very deeply shaken.  Jack clung to her when she came near.

"There was... Something... On the stairs."

Jack suddenly interrupted, "I'm going to the car.  I don't care.  I need out of here.  We should all go to the car and just get the hell out of here."  He was edging towards the door, pulling Marla a little off balance in the process.

"But Sam is still up there."  Beth chimed in, almost starling them with how quiet she had been.  She looked nervous and almost as ready to run as Jack.  They all were scared.  "We can't just leave here.  We can't."

"The three of you go to the car.  Get Jack out of here before he dies of fright... I'll see about Sam."  He looked at the stairs, afraid that he might see the shadow again.  It was hard to swallow around the lump in his throat and his brow was beading up with sweat despite the coolness of the air.  Jack started to protest and he waived him away.  "Just get to the car and we'll meet you there."

He watched them cautiously make their way to the door, eyes on the stairs the entire time.  It almost felt like the house was holding its breath, waiting for them to do something.  The tension in the air was thick like a dense fog.  He shivered, now realizing that the room seemed to be getting colder.  Jack shuffled eagerly out the door, nearly dragging Marla along behind him.  Beth turned for a moment, looking back into the room with desperation on her face, before turning and slipping out of the house.

As the door clicked shut he realized that he had been holding his breath too.  He forced himself to slowly breath out and then in again.  The walls seemed like they were moving, the shadows crawling up and down them like snakes or tendrils of ink suspended in water.  Yet every time he tried to focus on any of it, it all vanished, leaving nothing but a normal wall or piece of furniture.  It was making his head spin.  It almost felt like the floor was trembling under his feet.  Everything seemed to be waiting.

He looked away from the door and to the stairs, steeling himself for the task ahead.  It might have been his imagination, but he could almost hear voices whispering to him.  Calling him.  Begging him to go on.  It didn't make him any more eager.  With one more deep breath and some more mental steeling, he finally forced his feet to move and made his way slowly towards the stairs.

A Horrible Dream (Post Nine)

Sam was soaked and had a glassy, blank look in her eyes.  She stared straight past the two of them and into the distance.  Then, slowly, she swung her gaze to each of them, but it was hard to tell if she actually saw those in front of her.  Then she blinked and the glaze was gone.  She swayed on her feet for a moment but it lasted a heartbeat.  "I... I just needed air.  There were... memories... in there that I didn't expect."  She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose between two fingers with a sigh.  "It had been a long time since I was in there.  My grandpa used to 'hide' in there from grandma with me.  We would play hide 'n seek."

"I guess that is understandable."  Her grandparents had passed away a couple years ago already but the past always has a tendency to sneak up at unexpected times.  "You could have at least told us where you were.  I mean, there's some strange stuff going on and you had us worried."

She cocked her head at him with a confused stare.  "What's going on?"  She stepped past them when he indicated the doorway to the kitchen.  "Oh, my..."  It was a strange response.  "Where is Jack?"

"Huh?  He's upstairs with Marla... Why?"  It was odd how she jumped straight to Jack.

Before Sam could answer, Beth chimed in; "He went to go look for you.  After a while we had to go look for him too.  He was in the crawlspace.  He said something came after him... I don't know if I believe him.  He does seem rather off, though.  Really scared of something."

Sam was poking around the debris strewn about the kitchen floor, not really focusing on anything in particular.  "But there is nothing to be afraid of."  Suddenly the power went out.  Beth jumped a little and gave a start.  The sun had already set so the cabin took on a dark, gloomy cast.  The rain had picked up again outside.  Sam slowly rose from her crouching position, looking around in the dark.  "Nothing to fear."  She seemed to be talking to herself, her voice quiet.  Her words dwindled to little more than a murmur before she finally went silent.

"What did you say?  It almost sounded like--" There was a loud thump from upstairs.  By now Beth had a death grip on his hand and she clung to his arm.  Sam hadn't moved from her spot in the middle of the kitchen.  Instead her shadowy form was looking up towards the ceiling.  Her head slowly swiveled down to look towards him.  "What was that?"  There was a hushed calm in her voice.

If it wasn't too dark to see for sure, he could have sworn that there was a smirk on her face.  He blamed it on the shadows.  It had to be the shadows.

Suddenly she began to move towards the door.  Her pace was slow and unrushed, like she was lost in thought.  The wet slap of her bare feet on the linoleum floor was the only sound above the renewed drone of the rain.  She didn't slow as she neared them, not even pausing for them to step out of the way before continuing through.  "It sounded like it came from upstairs..."  She was on the landing before either of them moved.

"Beth.  Beth, does she seem alright?  It's not just me, is it?"  He looked at her in the dark.  Her eyes were wide, obviously scared.  Probably as wide as his.  She slowly shook her head, watching the dark landing where Sam had disappeared moments ago.  "We should probably follow her."  Beth slowly nodded, obviously unsure about going towards those stairs.

Suddenly they could hear the sound of feet from above them.  The two of them made their way to the stairs and found Jack and Marla on their way down.  Jack still seemed a bit shaky but Marla was more than enough support for him.  They were talking quietly and laughing softly together.  There was no sign of Sam.  Suddenly Marla noticed them standing in the dark at the bottom of the staircase.  "You two look like you've seen a ghost."

He glanced at Beth, more visible now that his eyes were adjusted to the dark, but still hazy in the gloom.  "Did you see Sam?"  Marla's confused expression was more than enough answer.  "She just walked up the stairs a few seconds before you came down them.  You would have had to pass her.  You had to."

Jack looked up at the mention of Sam, his eyes wide.  He licked his lips like they were dry but said not a word.  Marla spoke up instead: "Sam was down here?  Huh.  I wonder how she got down here without anyone noticing."

"She was outside. I have no idea when or how she got out there.  Then after the power went out we heard a thump from upstairs... And she went up there to check it out.  We were just about to follow her up when you two came down."  He swallowed nervously.  Beth was still clinging to him, doing her best not to look up the stairs or into the kitchen.

Marla scratched her head and then continued helping Jack down the stairs.  "Well, she must have slipped into one of the other rooms just before we came out.  We didn't see her."  Jack was glancing nervously back up the stairs, making it that much more difficult for Marla to help him down.  "That thump was us tripping over some bags when the power went out.  We were making our way out of the room when everything went dark.  We're good though.  Nothing to worry about."  She smiled at them as they parted to allow space.

Jack was still very obviously shaken up from whatever had happened and wanted to sit down on the couch.  He let go of Marla soon after they left the landing and shuffled his way towards his seat.  The others followed him.  Marla wandered over to the kitchen, gasping a bit when she saw the mess covering the floor.  "What the heck happened?"  She looked back at them, crowding around Jack in the dark.

"I have no idea.  Obviously that was the crashing noise we heard when we found Jack in the crawlspace.  Beyond that I have no idea how it all fell out like that... It's... creepy.  This is all kind of creepy right now."  He was man enough to admit that there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.  Sam was acting strange and some unusual stuff had been happening in the cabin.  The lack of power and the constant drum of the heavy rain weren't helping matters.

While he was talking he noticed that Beth's eyes were locked on the stairs.  Her hand, still gripped tightly around his arm, was beginning to shake.  He became aware of Jack trying to get his attention, his barely audible words getting louder until a whisper could be made out: "I think we need to leave.  I think we need to leave now."  Marla, standing in the kitchen doorway and unable to see the stairs, shrugged and looked confused but her uneasiness was not very well hidden.

He took a breath and slowly turned around to face the darkness that lead up to the second story.  At first he noticed nothing.  It was dark.  Since he was standing in what little glow the rainy night threw in the sitting room window the shadows on the stairs just seemed that much darker.  As he waited he realized that he could hear his heart thumping in his chest.  His arm was starting to tingle where Beth was holding on and a fine bead of sweat was on his brow.

His eyes slowly took in more detail.  Slowly adjusted.  Something was wrong.  There was someone watching them from the stairs.  "Sam?"  His voice seemed loud in the sudden quiet.  The shadow didn't move.  He almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.  He was about to call again but when he blinked the shadow was gone.  "Sam?"  Almost no sound left his lips.  His mouth was suddenly very dry.

A Horrible Dream (Post Eight)

"What's in there?"  He bent down to take a look but had trouble seeing past Marla's huddled form in the cramped, dark space.  What he could see was the large, dark form of a person huddled back in the far reaches.  "Who is that?  Is that Jack?"  He could see enough to make out the large but thin frame that could only be Jack.  It was much too big to be Sam.

Marla spent some time with what could only be Jack, trying to coax him out into the room.  Her questioning was responded to with hushed, hurried whispers.  He refused to move.  It seemed like he was hiding from someone.  Or maybe something.  Finally she gently grabbed his hand and began guiding him slowly towards the light.  Every once in a while he would stop and try to get back into the dark but after a few more seconds of gentle coaxing he would start forward again.

It wasn't long before they got Jack into the room and onto the bed where he sat looking distant and nervous.  "What happened?"

Jack slowly turned his head towards him.  "It... It was... I don't know..."  He withdrew into himself more, going silent for a few moments before continuing.  "I just came up here to see what Sam was doing, and then Marla was pulling me out of there."  He motioned to the crawlspace without looking at it.  "I can't remember anything.  I just know that it was after me and that I had to get away."  He curled his knees to his chest and cradled himself, obviously starting to relive whatever had happened.

"Where is Sam?  She wasn't in there with you.  She never came back downstairs..."  He crouched by the crawlspace door, one hand resting on the wall above it, the other on his thigh.  Things were getting really weird and he wasn't sure he could make sense of it.

"I don't know... I just don't know... I don't remem-Wait... There was something.  The statue that you found.  It was-" Suddenly there was a loud crash from downstairs, drawing everyone's attention.  It sounded like plates and silverware tumbling to the floor.  Everyone but Jack made a move to go see what happened.  Marla decided to stay behind with him.

Beth clung close to his side, obviously not too excited about what was going on.  "What do you think is happening?  This is all too weird."  She was playing with her fingers nervously as they walked towards the stairs.

"I don't know.  I'd say it's nothing but, come on... Jack isn't normally spooked like that.  Either that or they are trying to play a trick on us."  They stepped into the kitchen to find every cupboard open, many of their former contents on the floor.  "A very elaborate prank..."

Beth covered her mouth and slowly backed out of the room before turning away from the door.  Suddenly she screamed.

"What?  Wha-"  He whirled to see what had startled her.  Sam was there, standing at the bottom of the stairs looking very confused.  The cabin's front door was ajar a few feet behind her.  "Sam?  Were you outside?  Why?  How?"  He stepped towards her to stand next to Beth who had rushed up after the initial shock had worn off.  "When?"

A Horrible Dream (Post Seven)

Jack, Beth, and Marla were all three crowded into the kitchen getting ready to throw some food together.  Jack was tearing into the hotdogs while Beth busied herself getting water to boil.  Marla was content to lean against the counter with a bottle of water in hand.  She couldn't stand the taste of well water so she brought her own.  It wasn't long before buns were opened, condiments were pulled out of the fridge, some fries were in the stove, and the dogs were slowly boiling.  A rather generic dinner it was going to be, but it was certainly not horrible.

As everyone busied themselves with anything to keep their attention off watching water boil, they passed around small talk and stories about days-gone-by.  Jack couldn't stop talking about his dream of opening an auto shop in town.  His father had always mused about doing it, wanting to quit his plain day-job to start something of his own.  Jack always humored him but it wasn't until his father passed away that it really became his dream too.  Marla not only supported him, but seemed to drive him.  She knew how important of a dream it is and was determined to help him see it through.  Beth, on the other hand, couldn't care less about cars.  She chimed in with a wistful remembrance of her last Spring Break and this guy that she had spent her time flirting with.  Alcohol and guys had always her thing and it brought many interesting conversations to the table.

"Hey, everything is almost done.  Has anyone seen Sam?"  She had never come to join them in the kitchen.  "Maybe she's out in the sitting room?"  He motioned to the door.  It was possible that she decided the little cooking area was just too crowded and instead picked her book back up.

"I'll go check."  Jack sauntered out of the room to fetch her.  Everyone else began building their dinner.

They waited a minute or so before finally Marla decided to take the first bite.  It wasn't until the first dogs were gone that Beth voiced what was on everyone's mind, "It sure is taking them a long time..."  She huffed and set her plate down.  "I think I'm going to check on them."

All three of them decided to go, crowding their plates onto the counter and filling out of the kitchen into the sitting room.  It was empty.  However, Beth stopped on the landing of the stairs, holding a hand out to stop the others.  "Hey, what is that sound?"  She cocked her head a bit to listen.  The other two followed.  In the silence a faint ticking could be heard.  Not like a clock or something mechanical, but it was a ticking nonetheless.

"I don't know... Maybe it was always there?  These old houses sometimes settle funny."  Marla shrugged as she said this, sounding a little uncertain.  They waited a few seconds, listening to the funny ticking before continuing up the stairs.  Eventually it seemed to fade, the house having returned to silence as they gained the top step.  The hall was empty so the trio continued towards the room with the pink bed.

"Hey, Jack, Sam, what are you two doing?"  Marla took the lead, reaching the door a few steps ahead of everyone.  "The dogs are done.  They're probably cold by now..."  She went in without knocking.  Then there was silence.

"Hey, you tw-"  He turned through the doorway, nearly knocking Marla over in the process.  She had stopped just inside the room, standing there with a slightly awkward silence.  He couldn't see the other two in the open room.

"They're not here."  She continued in, heading towards the closet and crawlspace.  The wooden door was still on the floor where it had been before they left though there was no sign of Jack or Sam.  "What are you two working at?  There's nothing in the stupid space."  Marla ducked her head into the hole in the wall.  "It's so friggin' dark in here, I can't see- Hey!"  She scrambled her way further in.

A Horrible Dream (Post Six)

It was hard to see, what with everyone crowding around the small object, but eventually he was able to find a spot over Sam's shoulder to get a peak.  The thing was dark.  Very dark.  So black that it seemed to suck up any light around it.  Two tiny purple specks shined out of the murky lump like eyes in the night.  He could see what looked like arms carved in to it that curled around its sides to cradle what could have been a belly.  Besides that, there was little detail to the thing.  Most of it seemed to be covered in rough chisel marks.  It looked like a half-finished carving of something, but what it was supposed to be was a mystery.

It made him shiver to stare at it for too long.  However, it had this mesmerizing sense about it, like nothing he had ever seen before.  Apparently Marla felt the same way.  She had already turned and was busying herself with picking cobwebs off her jeans, every once in a while stealing a glance back at it.  Beth was chewing her lip, her eyes darting around the room but always coming back to the strange lump.  She seemed nervous.

"Well, I'm going back down stairs.  I want my beer."  Jack yawned and scratched his head, taking one more long look before making his way to the door.  Hesitation followed him, and he turned more than once before leaving the room.  Marla was quick to follow him.

Sam seemed to be the only one who could stand to stare at it.  She seemed lost, sucked in to those purple orbs.  She didn't even look up when Jack made his announcement.  Goosebumps prickled her skin and her breathing seemed shallow.  Every once in a while she seemed to mouth something but no sounds left her.

"Sam?... Sam?"  It took a nudge on the shoulder to pull her from her thoughts.

"Wh-what?"  She turned and blinked like a light had just been turned on.  "I must have zoned out..." She looked back at the statue, rubbing her arms like she was cold.  This time it didn't seem to grab her.  Instead she turned quickly, visibly uncomfortable.  "I've never seen that thing before.  I wonder how it got in there.  I don't think grandma or grandpa knew how to carve and it wasn't like them to collect stuff like that... Heh, that certainly doesn't remind me of 1950's style!"  She chuckled nervously, staring at the thing out of the corner of her eye.  "I... I think I should take this home with us and see if mom knows anything about it."

"Alright, well I'm heading back downstairs to see what Marla and Jack are up to.  He might be passed out on the floor again by now..."  He smiled at her before continuing, "Besides, I'm hungry.  I think it's time to get those hotdogs cooking."  Beth perked up at that.

"Yeah... Now that I think about it, I'm pretty hungry too."  Sam rubbed her stomach.  "Go get it started and I'll meet you down there.  You know where everything is at, right?"  She smiled at his nod.  "Great.  Just give me a second and I'll be there.  I have to put that door back in."  She motioned to the opening for the crawlspace.

"I can get that if yo-"

She waved him away.  "Nah, it's a little tricky to get in there right.  Never did fit well.  It'll just take me a second."

He nodded and smiled again.  "As you wish."  He loved throwing that line into conversations whenever possible.  Taking one last look around, he turned for the door and the stairs beyond.  Beth was right behind him.

"That thing was so creepy."  Her voice was hushed and she kept glancing behind her like they were being followed.  "I don't know what it was, but it just felt so strange to stare at it.  It made my skin crawl"  She seemed to shudder with the memory.

"Yeah, that thing is a little creepy, isn't it?  I don't really think it's anything though.  It just looks like a project that someone forgot about.  People make creepy stuff all the time."  He absentmindedly rubbed at the tender lump on his head as they walked, wincing every now and then.  "Man, I really took a good hit thanks to you..."

Beth frowned at him.  "You don't have to rub it in, you know.  Maybe if you weren't so easily spooked it wouldn't have happened."

"You mean, maybe if YOU weren't so easily spooked."   He gave her a sarcastic smile with a sidelong glance.  She huffed and hurried down the stairs before him, leaving him in the hallway alone.

He noticed how eerily quiet it was all of a sudden.  The rain must have stopped.  Taking a quick moment at the top of the stairs, his eyes fell on the door to the bedroom where they had left Sam.  She must have already fitted the door for there wasn't a single sound coming from the room.  It crossed his mind to wait for her but after a few seconds he got impatient.  His stomach was talking to him and telling him that Sam could fend for herself; sustenance was more important.  With a shrug he turned and headed down the stairs.

A Horrible Dream (Post Five)

Suddenly the door flew open and Sam came rushing out to scare him "BOO!"  He nearly fell flat on his face in his haste to get out of the way.  Sam's tackle took him the rest of the way down.  She rolled off him on to the floor, nearly suffocating from her laughter.

He put a hand on his chest in the hopes that it would help steady his breathing and propped himself up on his elbows.  "What the hell was that about!?  You nearly scared me to death!"  He glared at Sam as she rolled on the floor stammering about the expression on his face between peals of laughter and gulps of air.  The rest of the group was just now starting to emerge, all of them a little misty-eyed from containing their own laughter.  Jack was the last one out.

"Jack, how could you?  I thought we were a team!  That's like the lowest of the low.  You're nothing more than a dirty turn-coat!"  He wiped some dust off his shirt and glared at Jack who just laughed in return.

"Sorry, man, but I just had to have in on this one.  Besides, maybe I'm only just pretending to be friendly with the ladies."  He grinned and poked at Marla.  She turned and slapped him.  "OW!"  He rubbed at the red hand mark on his shoulder.  Marla huffed at him.

It was Sam's turn to chime in: "Jack, you're not that clever."  She was sitting on the floor now, feet folded under her hips, and fiddling with one of her earrings that came loose in the tussle.  Her jeans were covered in dust and cob-webs, a few of the strands also floating around in her hair.  In fact, everyone was dusty and ruffled.

"I didn't know that there was a crawlspace in here.  Is there anything neat in there?"  He crawled past the group and towards the little door, peering into the dark.

"Nah, just some dust, cobwebs, and more dust.  At least I didn't see anything else in there... It is pretty dark, though."  It was Jack, still rubbing absentmindedly at his shoulder.  He had moved off to the side of the room and was leaning against the wall.  He already looked tired again.  He always seemed to be tired.

"Well, I'm bored and I want to check it out."  He shuffled his way inside, making sure not to bump his head on the rafters.  The drum of the rain was enhanced since there was little more than some plywood and a few layers of shingles between him and the wet outside world.  That combined with the dark made for a disorienting space.  He felt like things were moving around him, their presence masked by the constant pattering.  A quick shudder ran down his spine, his over active imagination flashing images in his mind before he could rein it in and push them away.  The space was low and narrow, not even tall enough for him to get on his knees without hitting his head, but ran the length of the cabin.  At both ends there was a vent to help with circulation, but besides that, there was no other opening except the little door he just went through.

Beth slipped in behind him, never one to miss out on a little bit of exploration.  "So, yeah... It's a crawlspace, alright."  He chuckled a bit while trying to squeeze past her to get a better look at one end.  Something caught his eye.

"Hey, what's that?"  He pointed at it as he moved, despite the fact that there was no way for Beth to see past him.  There was a tiny purple glint winking at him just under one of the vents.  He hadn't noticed it at first, but now that his eyes had adjusted it was definitely there.  The shudder passed through him again but he just brushed it aside.  "Hey, Sam, what is this?  There's something shiny and purple back here."

"I have no clue.  I haven't been in that space in years.  Bring it out here so we can see it."  Sam's shout was muffled through the walls.  There wouldn't be enough room for her to see it if she had followed them in, anyways.

He continued crawling his way towards it, being careful to rest his hands and knees on the ceiling joists.  He didn't want to accidentally put his foot through the ceiling of the cabin: Sam's parents were reluctant enough about letting them come.  He didn't want to give them justification.  As he approached it he could make out a small, dark shape poking out of the insulation, the little purple glint nestled towards one side, almost buried in the fuzzy paper mass.  He reached out, just about to touch it when suddenly Beth screamed.

Recoiling, he pulled back and up, smacking the top of his head squarely into one of the solid wood rafters.  "Ah, fuck!"  He flinched back and covered his head with his hands, feeling to see if he was bleeding.  So far he wasn't.  His vision wobbled for a second or two.  "Shit, shit, shit, shit..."  He was muttering under his breath, trying to collect his senses.

Marla came rushing in, "Beth, are you alright?  What the heck happened?"  He could hear a clamor from outside as Sam and Jack came to huddle around the door.

"I'm fine... I think... I think a spider just ran across my hand.  I felt it.  It was terrible!"  He voice was layered in disgust.

"Pft, come on.  What did you expect?  There are probably thousands of spiders in here."  Marla was never one to be very sympathetic.  "Come on out, I think you've had enough exploring for one night... Hey, what did you find over there?"  She was calling to him now.

"I... I don't know.  Just let me get my head to stop spinning.  I bumped it when Beth screamed.  Fuck it hurts."  He continued rubbing the sore knob slowly rising from the back of his head.  Still squinting through tears, he quickly reached out and grabbed the thing before backing his way to the door.  Whatever it is made out of was cold and rough like stone but he couldn't make out any shapes.  It was unusually heavy for its size.  Once out he hastily thumped it on the floor before sitting back against the wall in the closet, returning to rubbing his throbbing head.

Beth was by his side quickly, pulling his head gently forward to check where he had hit it.  "I'm so, so sorry... I really am."  She was sifting through his hair now, looking for cuts.  "I don't see any blood but you're going to have a really nasty lump up there."  He winced as she probed, despite how careful she was being.  She sat down beside him and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder.  "I'm sorry."

"I'm fine, I really am."  He gave his sore noggin one more gentle rub for good measure before taking a deep breath and leaning back against the wall.  Beth had always been very protective of her friends, sometimes overreacting over small things.  He would be lying if he said he minded right now.

"Hey you two, come look at this thing.  It's crazy."  Sam sounded confused as she called to them.  She and the other two were huddled around whatever it was that he had pulled out from the crawl space.  Patting Beth on the back, he got up to go see what it was.

A Horrible Dream (Post Four)

It was quiet on the second floor, any sounds of the chase having died out.  Beth had scampered into one of the rooms, intent on joining the action.  “Jack?  Jack, I’m sorry.  I failed.  Beth got loose but I’ll get her again.  Hold on, man!”  The door to the first room was ajar, no one apparent inside.  The other two bedrooms were sealed, leaving room for investigation.

The door creaked open, its old hinges sticking from the humidity.  A twin-sized bed with a green comforter could be seen in the corner of the room with a stained wood nightstand quietly keeping it company.  A small armoire stood guard on the other side of the room, an oversized doily draping off the top.  Unfortunately, no one was inside.  That only left one other room.  “Alright, why is everyone so quiet?”

The last room held a similar scene, only this bed was pink.  Still, there was no one inside.  “Sam?  Jack?  Beth?... Where did you go?  Marla, where are you guys?”  He stooped to peer under the bed, doubtful that they could hide under there.  It was only a twin-sized bed after all and these were a couple of grown adults.  “C’mon, hide-n-seek?  Really?  I thought we were past those kinds of games.”  He went back out to search the bathroom down the hall.  It was the only place left.

It was a large bathroom for the size of the cabin.  Sam’s grandparents had had wanted to be able to relax in the tub after a day out on the lake.  However, the years were starting to show.  “Hmm… Not in here, either… Where could they-The closets!”  He felt like an idiot, he really did.  He was going to have to get them back for this, especially since he was the one driving.  It looks like the drive home is going to be filled with horrible music, no matter how much they complained.

The closet in the room with the green bed yielded nothing so he moved on to the room with the pink mattress.  It, too, was empty.  That just left the closet in the master bedroom.  “Okay, there is nowhere else for you four to be.  You're not going to scare me."  He pulled the door to the closet open, fully expecting to find everyone crammed in there.  Besides Sam's bags, it was empty.  He took a step back and closed the door, more than a little confused and frustrated.  This wasn't fun anymore.

Moving back out into the hallways, he rubbed his neck while contemplating where to look next.  He wasn't sure how, but apparently they had suck past him and got downstairs.  They had to have done it while he was investigating one of the rooms.  There was no other explanation.  Suddenly a noise came to his attention from down the hall.  It sounded like scratching.  He slowly made his way towards it, stopping outside the room with the pink bed to see if it would happen again.  It did.  It was inside the room.

He slowly entered, listening to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.  It led him back to the closet.  Opening the door, he still found nothing but Jack's messily unpacked bags stacked next to Marla's neat pile.  However, there was something else he hadn't noticed before; a small door was nestled on the side wall of the closet.  It had to be where the sound was coming from.  He bent down to grab hold of the little pull-knob to slide the door out of place.