Nightmares in the Dreamhouse

by David Churchill

  “Here you are then Titch,” he went on. Something cold was pressed into Matthew's unwilling hand. “Look after it now. It's off old Watty's key-ring.”

  “But - “ Matthew began, breathlessly.

  “Shut up and listen. All you've got to do is crawl through that little hole I've made for you. The key only works from the inside. Unlock the door and pull back the bolt. Then we can all come in and do a bit of homework. Can't we Karen.”

  The snigger from just behind Abby sent gooseflesh all down her back.

  Matthew wanted to say “No!” He didn't want to do it. He was scared, really scared. But Roy was digging his fingers into his arm and even if Cherry had given the signal he couldn't have run. As she told him a long time afterwards, that was why she didn't do it.

  Now he was being pushed down, with a cold, hard hand on his neck, guiding his head into the black hole, cramming his shoulders through, roughly heaving at his legs, until his hands scrabbled at the floor on the other side and his shins scraped over the broken wood of the door.

  He found himself in a heap on the cold tiles. It was pitch black. Only the acrid smell of the toilets and the sweaty stink of the changing rooms told him where he was.

  As Matthew knelt, hands out in front as if to push away darkness, a thin beam of light suddenly lit a patch of floor beside him.

  “Here - Titch. Use this. But keep it down, right down! An' I want it back, too. Go, on, get this door open or I'll come in after you.”

  An arm waved through the space and Matthew took the slim torch that was on the end of it. The fear of Roy somehow coming after him in the dark, like a ferret after a rabbit, was enough to make him scramble up, and struggle to get the key into the lock with a shaky hand and a wobbling light, and pull back the squeaky bolt. The others bundled in and the door was pushed shut by an invisible hand.

  Roy's voice in a harsh whisper close to his ear said, “So far, so good. You can lead the way, Matt, since you did that so well,” and Matthew found himself being pushed forwards through the changing room and along the passageway towards the door that opened into the school foyer.

  He dared to glance back once, and in the half -light coming through the big glass doors he could see that they were in a line. First himself, then Roy, then Gary and Abby and, neatly trapping them, Karen in the rear.

  Uncertain, he paused at the foot of the stairs. It was eerie being in the school at night. The darkness above hung over them like a black sack. Matt took a deep breath and the darkness seemed to come in with the air, suffocating him and making him breath in again, quickly. The yellow torch-beam shook as his hand trembled.

  “On you go,” Roy whispered. “Up the wooden hill.”

  As Matthew climbed, the little light made the darkness around him seem full of moving shapes. Panicky thoughts ran through his mind. What if they were caught? They might be sent away somewhere. He wouldn't be able to go and see John. What was Roy going to make them do? What a useless plan they'd made... He felt sweat trickling down his back. How on earth was Gary coping?

  Now they had reached the top of the stairs and Roy was nudging him round to the right. Safe, comfortable streetlights could be seen across the field out of the windows but in front the corridor vanished into blackness. They passed the Art Room, one of Matt's favourite places, and then his English Room - he liked that too. Both rooms had his work on the wall. Then came the Library.

  “Key time, Titch. Same as the lock downstairs. I checked. Open it up then put out that light.”

  Horribly, horribly aware of his fingerprints being plastered all over everything, and utterly unable to do anything about it, Matthew turned the key and opened the door.

  They stood for a moment in the quiet room, shadowy ranks of shelves lining the walls and standing out in bays, mysterious in the darkness. Matthew loved the library. He went in at lunch times to look at the art books and the nature books. They filled him with ideas for pictures he wanted to paint. The librarian, Mrs Marden, was really friendly, too.

  Then, outside, a gust of wind stirred and leaves fluttered like fingernails against the windows. For a moment the crazy rhythm began throbbing in his head...

  “... fell from the sky

  Butterfly...

  He fell from the sky

  Like a -”

  but that was interrupted by Karen's croaky whisper.

  “I hate that woman,” she said. “She chucked me out last week. I only wanted somewhere warm to suck me orange.”

  Roy didn't answer. It was as if he had forgotten that anyone else was there at all. He went to the librarian's desk and yanked open a drawer. “Thought so,” he muttered, taking out a cardboard box and tipping a shower of pound coins into his other hand. “Teachers' tea-money - it's her fault, she ought to lock it up.”

  Next, he reached out for a magazine off the rack. Matthew went cold as he saw him tear the pages apart and screw them up into a ball, dropping it on the floor. Then, even more horrifying, he took a book off the desk, ripped out some pages and added them to the pile.

  Someone gasped and Roy suddenly seemed to remember the others were there. He let out a little grunting laugh. “I never thought of this,” he said. “It'll be well warm in here soon. Bonfire night's coming early. Got your lighter, Karen?”

  “Roy,” she said, “you aren't gonna -”

  “Oh yes I am. Give it here.” His voice was as hard as rock.

  There was a rustle, a sudden flare of light and a slight whiff of petrol. Abby began to say something and Matthew made a strangled noise. But at last, it happened. From behind Matthew came the crisp crack that only Cherry could produce with finger and thumb.

  Subconsciously Matthew had been listening for that all along. Now he turned sharply, twisted past the bending figure of Roy, barged past Karen and joined the others in a mad dash out of the library, along the corridor, past the Art Room, swinging round the banister to hurtle down the stairs - by a miracle not falling - and across the foyer towards the door out to the changing rooms. The others had paused there and he nearly crashed into them for the second time that evening.

  There was a noise from upstairs and they bundled madly through into the area beyond. Somehow their bodies or brains remembered which way to go in the darkness and someone, somehow, got to the outside door and yanked it open.

  Matthew felt clear cold air rush in against his face, and grass under his feet. He ran faster than he had ever run in his life - down the path alongside the hall, across the flowerbeds and grass, after the other flying figures that were pelting wildly away in front of him.

  But Matthew realised they were splitting up. The girls were faster and Gary's solid shape had swerved off to the side. He was running straight to the Caretaker's bungalow. Abby glanced back and saw what was happening.

  “Gary, this way,” she shouted, but Gary had reached the front door by now. He bent down and with what breath he had he was yelling, “Fire! Fire!” through the letterbox.

  Abby was up the path in an instant and grabbing him by the arm. Now they were charging back to where Cherry and Matthew were waiting, watching desperately for signs of pursuit. It soon came - two dark figures at the corner of the school building.

  “Run!” said Cherry, and they set off again, hurtling down the path at the side of the playing fields, quite visible, as they sped through each pool of lamplight, to the man who had jerked back the curtain of the bungalow window and was staring out.

  9. we couldn't move. It was like being in a trap

  It was very quiet in the small ward. When Matthew stopped talking there was almost no sound at all - just the slight hissing and John's slow, slow breathing... Matthew slid lower on the bed, almost lying down, speaking very softly, right into his brother's ear.

  John, it was horrible then. They chased us. We couldn't have got to our house. Cherry said, “Go to the Dumps,” - you know, the bricked-up houses - so we did. It was everso dark and there's all stuff there that people have chucked away. We hid behind a heap o
f bricks in the back gardens and Abby's leg got stuck. We could hear them looking for us... getting closer... we couldn't move. It was like being in a trap...

  10. we'll find you, Titchy

  Abby tried to straighten her sore leg. Something clanked, and she gave a muffled squeak.

  “Sh!” Gary hissed in a panic. “They'll hear you.”

  “I can't help it. I'm in a hole. My foot's stuck!”

  Matthew, crouched shivering by her, realised he was still gripping the torch. Without thinking he pressed the button that was under his thumb and the pencil of light flashed across the darkness. It was lucky they were shielded by the knocked-down wall.

  Abby had lost her foot. There seemed to be nothing on the end of her leg. Then Matthew shifted the beam and it lit up a round metal plate, only half covering the black hole in which her foot was hidden.

  Cherry was quickest. She whispered, “Shine it down, Matt. What's inside?”

  Abby eased out her foot, with a snort as her ankle twisted, and Matthew pointed the torch into the space. Cherry leaned over Matthew to peer in. Not far below the cover, a heap of black coal shone back up at her.

  Now she pushed Matthew to one side and began to pull at the heavy iron lid. Gary was quick to join her. Suddenly, with a harsh rasp, it jerked sideways.

  “Come on,” Cherry breathed, and slid feet-first down through the space with a dull rumble of coal under her. Abby followed, leaving Gary and Matthew crouching on the edge.

  Matthew didn't want to go back into blackness again - he'd had enough for one night. Gary was just whispering, “What shall we do?” when Roy's voice, not far away, called his name in a soft sing-song.

  “Gar-eth... my old mate Gar-eth. Where are you Gareth? Are you in your little dump, Stiggy?... I'm coming to sniff you out now... I'm coming Gar-eth... Sniff... sniff... ”

  Gary gasped and slid down into the depths. There was a muffled clatter as he hit the coal and caused a small black avalanche underground.

  “Mat-thew,” came the soft call out of the darkness. “We want our little torch back, Titchy. Don't be frightened. We only wanted to make a little bonfire... We'll find you Titchy... ”

  The voice was vicious now. It was closer too, and feet were rustling, picking their way across the heaped ruins of the gardens. But Matthew had lowered himself into the dark hole and was lying on a gravelly heap of small coal, afraid to move in case he caused the slightest sound that would give them away. There was a smell like Karen's lighter that made him want to sneeze and he lay there in the gritty blackness, feeling the others somewhere close and hearing noises, almost overhead.

  Then there was a voice, Roy's, muttering something savage as he stumbled, and Karen's hoarse whisper followed. After that, and even worse, came a silence. A horrible, cold silence as if Karen's whisper had frozen the air itself.

  Underground the four were too terrified to stir, or breathe. They all desperately wanted to swallow. Gary, shivering, thought, “I'm going to cough -”

  But then the voice again.

  “I can see you Abigail... Come on out dear... ”

  Abby shuddered, began to straighten, but Cherry's hand gripped her arm, holding her still.

  “Ah! There's little Matthew.”

  Matt knew he couldn't be seen. He waited, shuddering all the same. Sweat trickled down out of his hair. There was a smothered moan from Gary, somewhere in the choking darkness.

  Then Karen's needly voice.

  “We ain't gonna find them in all this muck. They must have a den somewhere. It's wrecking me trainers. We'll get them on Monday - I hate that posh cow Abigail... ”

  There was a mutter and a sudden unpleasant laugh, followed by the sound of blundering footsteps, growing fainter, then silence and a chance to breathe at last.

  11. fantastic!

  Matthew squirmed on the bed with excitement at the memory of what came next.

  Then Abby said, “What is this place?” and Gary said it was a coal cellar - what the coalman used to tip sacks of coal into - because there was one like it in the house he lived in first. And Cherry said, “How did they get the coal back out?” and he said “Through a door into the kitchen,” and that's how we found it! There were smelly cans of petrol or something on the steps, so we moved them and went up to a wooden door with a handle, and it opened and we went in... I went first because I had the torch... and we were inside a house. Right in it. In the kitchen. Then Gary put a switch down and the light came on. Fantastic. There's still electricity there, see, and a bulb. They must have forgotten to cut it off or it's because of those people who won't give up the house down the other end. It wouldn't matter anyway but no-one can see in because all the windows and doors are bricked up to keep people out. It's our house now. A whole house and we'll be really safe there... John, John, wake up and I'll show you it...

  12. you might find a vampire

  They stood blinking in the sudden glare of the unshaded bulb. There was the raw brick and blobby mortar where a narrow window had been blocked. There was a dusty blue sink unit and taps, and an empty wall cupboard with a door hanging by one hinge. Underfoot were blue and white tiles. Several were loose and out of place, showing black, ribbed adhesive underneath.

  Cherry whispered, still afraid of Roy and Karen hearing, “It's ace. We're right inside. We can go anywhere.”

  There were two doors. Cherry turned the round handle of one of them and pulled it open. A black passageway yawned in front. She reached for a light switch and clicked it down, but nothing happened. There was no bulb in the hallway. So she pushed open the door on her right. Another click produced no light and all they could see were their own long shadows cast into the room by the light behind them.

  “Here Matt, shine the torch in,” she ordered.

  Matthew joined her, and the small ray of light flickered around an empty living room. Bricked-up window; old-fashioned tiled fireplace; bare wooden floor; wallpaper that looked like big leaves or flowers... a lighter patch where a mirror or a picture must have hung.

  From behind them came Abby's hushed voice. “I wonder what it's like upstairs?”

  They all looked up the dark passageway again. Suddenly Matthew felt wobbly, as if he'd had all he could take for one day, especially of darkness.

  Unexpectedly, Cherry echoed his feelings. “I reckon we've seen enough for now,” she said. “But we'll come back, won't we. It could be great.”

  “It's a fab den,” Abby agreed. “Sort of place where you might find a vampire asleep in its coffin - or a whole family of them, with papery skin and teeth like - “

  “Shut up Abby,” Gary said. “Don't spoil it. It's a magic place to hide. Those two couldn't find us here. We'll get in and shut the opening. It's like an island... a castle... ”

  “We'll cover up the opening when we go, and we can come here secretly, and bring some light bulbs,” Matthew agreed. “We'll explore upstairs.”

  “I can't come tomorrow,” Abby said. “Aunty's taking me somewhere educational.”

  “And I can't come on Sunday ‘cos my cousins are coming,” Cherry said.

  “OK, make it Monday,” Matthew suggested. “We'll need somewhere to keep away from them. I'll come straight from the hospital.”

  “Right, that's agreed, we meet here on Monday, but let's get going now,” Cherry urged. “And put that light out before you go, Gary. We don't want a big electricity bill.”

  It wasn't that funny, but they laughed so much that they had a job to get down the cellar steps and pick their way past the cans and across the coal. All the same, when they heaved themselves out over the cold rim of the manhole, and into the damp night air, after carefully pulling a piece of fence across the opening rather than the heavy cover, they went quietly, secretly, their eyes searching the shadows for enemies.

  13. we'd kill ‘em if they tried that

  Down the hill Roy and Karen stood back in the shadows as first a fire engine and then a police car passed them, lights flashing.

 
“I didn't expect you to do that,” Karen said.

  “Surprised meself a bit,” Roy said. “Got a bit carried away, like.”

  “Will it... will it burn the school down?”

  “No such luck. That Gary was shouting his fat head off, wasn't he. Shame! I like a good fire... it livens things up a bit!”

  “You're mad,” Karen said.

  “So?”

  “No I mean it. People get hurt in fires - killed. We'd be sent away.”

  “Who cares? I don't. I'm too clever for them, anyway.”

  “But you sure they won't tell on us, Roy?”

  “No way. They know I'd kill ‘em if they tried that. Anyway, they're in it too... plus I'll give them a little warning. Come on, Monday's gonna be great.”

  As they moved off he gripped her arm. “And whatever happened, you wouldn't tell, would you Karen!”

  She squirmed as his grip hurt. “Leave off Roy. Don't be stupid. As if!”

  Without a word he pushed her aside and marched on ahead.

  Getting her balance, she ran after him calling, “Roy, Roy. Wait for me. Don't get like that. Here, have a fag and I'll get us some chips... ”

  14. Abigail, white-faced, stumbled along the row

  Matthew lay in bed trying to decide whether to be sick or have a sore throat. It wasn't difficult to pretend either, after the dreams he'd had for the past three nights - being hunted through black caves by a creature with long claws, which suddenly turned into Karen with her nails all bitten but somehow long and purple as well. Then he'd be reading a huge book full of fabulous animal pictures and it would burst into flames in his hands. Twice he had woken with a jump thinking he heard a voice chanting “fell from the sky, fell from the sky” over and over again, getting louder and louder and louder.

  Just when he had decided that earache and a sore throat should sound convincing enough, he heard the telephone in the hallway ping, which meant his mother had picked it up. He listened. She was ringing work. Wouldn't be coming in today. Had a bad night and felt a migraine threatening... Going back to bed.