Nightmares in the Dreamhouse

by David Churchill

  His mouth worked over the words, “Fell from the sky,” but a new version had recently been pushing for a space in his brain. It whispered, “He flies in the sky... ” and he could feel in his fingers the last task being completed, the colouring in of the figure suspended under the wing - John himself - the last act that would somehow put everything right. That would bring him up to a sitting position in the hospital bed, eyes open, talking, laughing and ready to live again.

  Another shout from below and he went out of the room to the head of the stairs.

  “Cherry's been in. Come on. Your turn to be terrified now.”

  “Yeah Matt. It's great. Or are you chicken? We'll have to hold Gary's hand if he has a look!”

  His body welcoming a change of activity, Matthew slipped into his room, put the chalk he was holding in the box then went back out onto the landing shouting, “OK, coming.” He paused for a moment, enjoying the sight of the two grinning faces looking up at him, then in a rush that made them scatter, he thundered down the stairs. At the bottom he swung round the banister post and stood there, red chalk streaked across his nose, waiting to see what it was all about.

  Cherry said again, “It's great Matt, if you can take it, that is.”

  Abby was looking pleased with herself; she shook her head so the ponytail danced and swung behind her.

  “It's not that brilliant,” she said, trying to sound modest. “And you have to be a bit careful or it might all go up in flames or fall down. Are you ready then?”

  Matthew looked at the shut door of her room, grinned and nodded. Abby, very slowly, pushed it open. The creak was still impressive and she made it last. Inside, the room was dark but he could see what looked like a cardboard wall just in front of him blocking off any view of the interior. Abby had painted over the partition with black paint, but the words “BAKED BEANS” were still faintly readable in the light from the hall.

  In what was meant to be a sepulchral tone, she chanted, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here. Behold the House of Horror!” Then she added in her usual voice, “But treat it gently, it really could catch fire if you knock it over.”

  His interest roused now, Matthew stepped towards the BAKED BEANS wall then stopped. Behind him Abby hissed, “Turn left, stupid.”

  Obediently, he turned. The card wall, taller than he was, made a very narrow corridor. At the end a flickering nightlight on the floor illuminated a big and rather nasty face. It had white skin and huge, dark eye-sockets. From its mouth long, pointed fangs stuck down, with red dripping off the tips. Matthew quite admired the picture - but he didn't much like having to walk right up to it. The flickering light made the face seem to move and he had a twinge of anxiety as if he was walking into a trap.

  Thinking, It's only Abby's idea of fun, he stepped forwards and heard a click, followed by a crackly scream that turned into a repulsive choking noise. At the same moment he felt something soft and hairy rubbing against his face, like long fingers brushing over his nose and mouth.

  He gasped and pushed then away with his hand. Then there were some more noises - gurgles and gasps and another scream. Recovering, Matthew thought, That's clever - strings hanging down and a cassette player. But he felt a bit shivery all the same. He decided to press on and get it over with, so he could go back to his own work.

  Then a voice whispered, “Blood!” and at the same time he felt his feet slipping on the floorboards. That was really unpleasant. Something very slimy was underfoot. Outside, Cherry was whispering to Abby, “What was that on the floor?” and Abby was giggling and whispering back, “Only raspberry jelly.”

  But Matthew had reached the face and been forced by the cardboard corridor to turn right. Creaks and groans were coming from the hidden recorder. The face hadn't been all that scary up close, but Matthew was glad to have passed it. Now he was looking up the next little passage that Abby had manufactured. Already he had no idea where he was in the room.

  In front was another small flickering light and, hovering above, it was a ghost - white-sheeted, with nasty red stains on. And it was moving, turning slowly, making eerie shadows leap along the walls.

  Matthew had no choice; he had to walk towards it. As he did, a low, sad howl came from somewhere. It sounded like a lost dog on a freezing night - or a werewolf. Then an owl cried.

  She's done it really well, Matthew thought, but it didn't help him much. Feeling definitely shaky he moved closer to the hanging figure, horribly shut in by the walls that almost brushed each shoulder. The words, “Fell from the sky... ” started up in his head, but faded as he deliberately looked down, away from the hanging shape.

  He sidled past, trying not to let it touch him, then turned right again, following the only route possible. Now he was in utter blackness. He supposed he had to go on so he shuffled cautiously forwards. The noises began again, and got worse. A louder scream jangled in his ears, and there were other softer sounds that he couldn't identify but didn't like.

  Suddenly cloth was across his face and he gasped, only just stifling a yell from his dry mouth, and pushed frantically through to more flickering light. On the wall beside him a bony hand was drawn, one long, jointed finger pointing the way he must go.

  He sobbed in a breath and stumbled past it. Another twinkling wick illuminated a big monster face, horned and with glittery red eyes, that he had to duck under. He felt the hairs on his neck prickle. Then more strings - these were sticky - and Matthew was moving breathlessly forward, wanting to get it over with, stupid words booming in his brain louder even than the gasps and groans coming from the tape. Everything was getting worse, leading up to something - something he had been holding away from himself, pressing down, for days and days and days.

  He turned once more, and was in what must be the centre of the room, only his own harsh, desperate breathing and the thud of his heartbeats breaking the silence.

  Here there was a little more light. It came from two candles in tall silver candlesticks. The disturbance of the air caused by Matthew's arrival made them flicker, and a waft of waxy-smelling smoke curled up into the dusk before the flames settled again to a steady, yellow glow.

  He stared at what lay between them. A long black box. Now, softly, a drum began - a slow, rhythmic thud. Words pulsed in Matthew's head, timing themselves to the awful sound.

  “fell from the sky... fell from the sky... fell from the sky... ”

  The words made no more sense than they ever did, but everything was worse. He pressed his hands to his ears but there was no way of silencing them. He couldn't take his eyes off the coffin.

  Outside, Abby, her eye pressed to a spyhole, whispered to Cherry, “Time for the vampire,” and gently began to pull on a string she was holding.

  The coffin lid was rising. Matt took one step towards it. He must see. He was horribly confused. The evil words were roaring in his brain. Tears sprang from his eyes. Perhaps it was John -

  He didn't know he had turned and run until he crashed into the dark wall beside him. It tore and crumpled around his legs and folded across his face. In panic he thrashed at it until it ripped and fell and he hurled himself out.

  Half-falling, sobbing, he lurched headfirst into the bright light of the passageway, and into the arms of Cherry who looked at what she had caught in astonishment.

  It'll burn!” Abby screeched, and dropping the string she rushed in to blow out the candles and nightlights before the whole place went up in flames.

  24. it's only horror. You're supposed to enjoy it

  Cherry was just saying, “It is good, isn't it, Matt,” and Matthew was shuddering with real horror and feeling guilty at the same time for messing up Abby's room, when she returned. A smell of blown-out candles came with her.

  “You clumsy great elephant,” she scolded. “You've made a hole right through the vampire's den!”

  “He was scared,” said Cherry, defending him. “You should have warned him Abby. Everyone isn't as tough as you.”

  Matthew still felt tear
s welling in his eyes. The coffin had seemed terrible, dreadful. He wanted to go and hide in his room, where the hopeful pictures told such a different story.

  “Well, I don't see what there was to panic about,” Abby grumbled. “It's only horror. You're supposed to enjoy it. You ought to have seen ‘The Plague of the Zombies' if you think my room was scary. Their flesh all sort of fell off -”

  Matthew found words to interrupt her. “It wasn't your fault, Abby. It wasn't that,” he said, tears trickling down his cheeks. “It was... something else...”

  Remembering his room and everything, Abby was suddenly silent. She didn't know what to say and nor did Cherry. But there was an interruption. A thud from over their heads was followed by Gary's footsteps coming slowly down the stairs. They were all glad of the distraction as they waited for him to appear.

  “Hi Gary, Matt's just demolished my room but it doesn't matter ‘cos you wouldn't have liked it,” Abby said, not really upset at all.

  “You don't know. I might of -”

  “Have,” Abby corrected, then quickly said, “Sorry - blame Aunty.”

  “What I mean is,” Gary went on steadily, “I don't seem so shaky these days actually.”

  What do you mean, since you saved the school?” Cherry asked.

  “Oh that, and working up there by myself and my step-dad staying away - ”

  “What have you been doing, anyway?” Abby asked. “You've been up there ages and you aren't half in a state.”

  Gary hesitated, rubbing dust-covered hands over his already plastered cheeks. Different emotions were reflected in his honest face as he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again.

  Then suddenly he grinned.“I made a discovery,” he said. “Not next door, or next door to that, but the one after that - “

  “You gone all the way!” Cherry exclaimed. “No wonder you were so quiet.”

  “Not all the way?” Matthew asked anxiously.

  Gary's grin vanished and he didn't answer.

  “You did, didn't you,” Abby said.

  Gary muttered, “Yes.” Then before he could be asked any more questions he quickly went on. “I was going to say, in that other house I found things. There's a little window in the roof. You can open it, I reckon. And there's a floor and boxes up there. All clothes and pillows and stuff. And a box of books and comics - really old ones - tied up with string. Tomorrow - ”

  He was talking fast but Abby interrupted him.

  “Gary,” she said. “What about the end one, Gary?”

  He looked away, looked down. Ran his dirty hand through his sticking up hair.

  “You didn't give us away, did you?” Matthew asked, his heart beating fast.

  “No... nothing like that,” Gary mumbled.

  Cherry could see that he was struggling. She spoke kindly. “Go on Gar. What happened? Tell us.”

  By this time they had moved into the kitchen and now they squatted down against the walls. Abby passed the doughnuts round. It still felt good - the best den ever - in spite of Karen and Roy getting so close, and being all together made for an extra sense of safety and comfort.

  “I didn't mean to,” Gary said, not really looking at anyone. “I lost count. It's hard up there, with having to go quiet and stay on the rafters in case you fall through. And not treading on the lamp wire.”

  His voice gained strength and he began to look up as the others listened without interrupting. “I left the comics and all to look at later - it's good in that one because the roof window lets a bit of light in, even though it's dark outside. It's not as black as the others, and there's the floor. Anyway, I had a go at the bricks into the next house - I didn't realise it was the last one -” He looked at Matthew as if to excuse what he'd done. “The bricks came out everso easily - I reckon these houses might just fall down if they leave them much longer - and I wriggled through. I'm good at that now. There's all stuff in that attic too. Rugs and a dolls' house and all, but the loft lid wasn't quite shut. There was light coming up the side - “

  “Did you have a peep?” Abby asked. “I would. You might see a murderer... ”

  Gary nodded. “I opened it a bit more,” he said. “It's easy ‘cos they've got a proper floor up there too.”

  “Go on, what did you see?” Abby was impatient to know.

  “I shouldn't have looked. It wasn't fair.” Gary was embarrassed, but he went on, almost talking to himself. “They were trying to get upstairs. Right under me.”

  “Did they see you?” Matthew again.

  “No, they were struggling too much. He's really fat and ill, I think. His legs don't work properly. She has to try to help him, but he's everso big and he can't properly stand up. She was sort of crying and he said ‘It's no good Amy, we've nearly had it. We're going to have to give in and leave this place' but she said, ‘No, it's all right Jim I can manage. ' Just at the top she nearly lost her hold on him and I thought they were going to crash down the stairs, but she grabbed the banister and he fell onto the landing. She had a terrible job to get him on his feet - I wanted to go and help but I couldn't - and she propped him up against the wall - he was right under me, I could have touched him - and then she went back down and dragged up one of those frame things - ”

  “Skimmer,” Abby said.

  “Zimmer,” Cherry corrected.

  “Yes - she dragged it up the stairs and then she got him into the bathroom. That's when I came back.”

  “Why don't they get a proper place?” Cherry asked. “All on one level. My aunt does meals on wheels in really good places for people like that.”

  “I know why,” Abby said thoughtfully. “It's because it's their home. I hated leaving mine, and I'd only lived there ‘til I was nine. There was wallpaper with a bumpy pattern in my Mum's bedroom. You could lie on your back and if you made your eyes go funny it would seem to float down so I could push my hand up through it. There's a dolls' house up there Gary said. See - they had a family years ago. It's like us here - it's their den - ”

  “Did you shut the lid?” Matthew asked. Gary nodded. He was still upset. He'd wanted to go and try to help when he saw how desperate they were. Like he felt about his Mum when she was really down. It wasn't her fault, either.

  “I put the bricks back too,” he said. “So they're shut off again.”

  They were quiet for a moment, thinking about what Gary had seen, then Abby, thinking aloud, said, “I don't know what I want to do now. I mean, have we sort of finished? Gary's gone all the way and Matt's demolished my masterpiece. It's getting a bit cold too.”

  “I know what you mean, Abbs,” Cherry said. “Actually I'm a bit tired of having to rush the homework all the time. I'd miss my cats, but I've done them a bit of good. I ‘spect they can manage without me - and I can still come round this way with treats.”

  “I don't mind stopping,” Gary agreed. “Specially if them two are closing in. It's been the best time I've ever had, but it'd spoil it all if they found it. And it looks as if my step-dad's not coming back at all. Mum had a letter. So I don't mind doing things at home now. She's going to help me with my homework too.”

  For Matthew, hearing them talking so easily about giving up - never coming any more - it was like being in a nightmare. It was worse than Abby's room had been. It was like the end of the world. He felt a cry - a howl - coming into his throat. He wanted to swear and yell. But he was so tired. What came out in the end was a very small sound instead. “Please -”he said.

  They turned to look at him, small, chalky and scruffed up from his panic rush out of Abby's room.

  “Please,” he tried again, head down, afraid to look at them, “don't stop yet. Please. I've got to have a bit longer. I've got to finish my picture. But I can't rush and spoil it.” Then he looked and met their eyes. “If you won't come, I'll... I'll... come by myself. I'll have to. I can't stop now.”

  In spite of their conversation earlier, they still didn't quite understand, but they could imagine him, all alone in the dead quiet wi
th danger outside, and they knew he mustn't do it.

  There was an uncomfortable silence until Cherry broke it. Cheerfully she said, “That's OK by me. No problem so long as we go on being really careful. How long do you need Matt?”

  “Please, just two more days... and then one more.” He knew what he meant.

  “Fair enough,” Abby said and nobody disagreed. “Until Saturday then. You can take me up in your treasure house tomorrow Gary. I promise I won't go “Hooooo!” in the dark

  Gary still jumped, then he grinned. He'd enjoy showing off his private world to her.

  They packed up quietly, still loving the house but knowing that very soon it was all going to come to an end. As she said goodnight to the three cats that had not gone off on a night prowl, Cherry was sad, but she was thinking that she'd helped a lot of needy moggies and she was definite that she was going to be a vet, or something like it, one day. Gary had gone as far as he could in the attics and had enjoyed the peaceful, undisturbed working time. Abby's room had been great to make and it had worked really well - nearly too well - and now she was ready for something new. Surprising Aunty, perhaps.

  They were ready for a change, but it was different for Matthew. He was still bound to his room, his work, and what might happen - had to happen - in the space of the next three days, when he must risk everything and complete the final picture.

  And so they left the kitchen, turning off the light, and treading softly down the stone steps into the knobbly blackness of the cellar where the fumes from the cans made Gary fight against a sneeze, then up into the frosty air where more and more often fireworks were banging and cascading in the starlit sky.

  “Three days to firework night,” Cherry whispered.

  Matthew thought, Three days... only three days... and then…?

  25. from the moment he stepped out into the street he was being followed

  ... Mum says she'll come and see you on Sunday if not before and she hopes you won't mind her not coming for the next couple of days. You know what she's like about fireworks only she seems worse this year. Do you remember Dad saying that when they tell you to keep dogs indoors for Guy Fawkes they ought to say keep Mums indoors as well? Trouble is, they seem to start going off a lot earlier than they used to. Anyway, I told her you wouldn't mind. There's some really big bangs... they won't have any left for Saturday if they keep letting them off. I saw a brilliant rocket on my way up here...