by Shawn Mackey
“You lied to me,” she said quietly, breaking our embrace. She pouted halfheartedly, only to wrap her arms around my waist again. “I waited for you all night.”
“I'm sorry, Angela,” I said. “It was a mistake. I would do anything to—”
"Hush," she said, placing her finger against my lips. "You're here now. That's all that matters."
“Guess I’ll leave you two alone,” Lily said, walking inside and slamming the door behind her. She peered through the window, brow furrowed in loathing.
“Why’s your friend giving us the evil eye?” I muttered.
“Jealousy,” Angela whispered in my ear before nestling into my shoulder. “Some people can’t stand to see others happy. Can you believe it? She doesn’t even have the tact to hide it.”
“Then to hell with her. How about you? What’s happened since I left?”
“This and that,” she said. After a long pause, she sighed and folded her arms. “Where did you go? I thought you found another woman.”
“I got lost. Has it really only been five years? My memory’s so fuzzy. I remember you and your pretty blonde hair, turning around to greet me.”
“You mean amnesia? Did someone hurt you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then we can go to our old spot,” she said, taking me by the arm and leading me across the lawn. “If that doesn’t bring back your memory, then you’re not Michael.”
“That’s not my name.”
“Then why did you answer to it?”
“I’m kidding! Just not about the fuzzy memory. Where are we headed?”
“You’ll know the second we get there.”
I couldn’t shake an inexplicable nausea. Were we lying to each other? The words left my mouth as truth, but my gut told me otherwise. A fragment of a memory wouldn’t be enough to reconcile the obvious. To Lily, I was nothing but a picture of her friend’s old lover. Angela existed somewhere, in one form or another, but the girl clutching my arm was nothing but a phantom.
We went down the street and found a bridge at the first corner. It was so long that it might have led to the town exit. Fortunately, we were alone. Angela seemed to appreciate this, as well; she leaned her head against my shoulder and giggled. We walked a bit before settling over the ledge. The water was clear, but too far below to see our reflections.
“Remember yet?” she asked, running her hand down my back.
“How long has it really been?”
“Too long.”
"I didn't just lose my way. I lost track of time as well. Has it been years? Centuries? It very well could be centuries. It feels like I've been at it since the beginning of time."
Angela continued to stare at the water. I noticed a hint of coldness in her glistening eyes. She was either growing tired of my babbling or was too dense to notice. I needed to lay the truth on her in earnest. Holding back even a minute detail wasn't an option. I may never get the chance again.
“Do you remember your dreams?" I asked. She gave a slight nod. "I never really remembered mine. Maybe just bits and pieces. Usually the people. Tell me, have you ever seen a stranger in your dreams? Somebody you've never met, but it doesn't feel that way until you wake up."
"I think so," she said.
"You'll think I'm crazy for asking this, but do you believe that it’s possible that these strangers actually inhabit the dream?"
"I believe just about anything is possible," she said.
"Where do they go? How do they get there? Most importantly, why are they there?"
"I don't know," she said. Her disinterested tone made me anxious. I clasped one of her hands and looked her in the eyes.
"I'm one of those strangers, Angela. I pass from dream to dream. I'm not sure how it happened, or when it happened, but I know that I came to terms with it long ago. It’s simple. I do my best to make sure the dreamer ends up happy. Happy dreams lead to happy lives. A happy life leads to happy dreams. Looks like it worked. How else could I have found you?”
“That’s nice, Michael.”
"It’s been a long journey. A bit difficult, but fulfilling nonetheless. I've learned a lot. I believe I'm ready to settle down. With you, Angela. I can finally be the man you deserve. No more brashness. No more bitterness. No more violence. I know where to find you now. Before the dream ends, I'll throw myself in the river. The only way to wake up is in death."
"Death," she said tonelessly.
"Not a real death," I said. "The only thing real in this world is me. Not even you, I'm afraid."
"I'm not real?" she said. Her eyes ceased to sparkle. Though they had lost their luster, they brimmed with tears that flowed down her cheeks.
"This is a dream," I said, holding her hands tighter. "The real you is out there. I know where to find you now. We'll be together shortly."
"I'm not real?" she repeated, breaking herself from my grip. She took two steps back and stood there motionlessly.
"Angela," I stammered, reaching out to touch her. My hands stopped when I noticed her eyes.
The tears were black. They dripped slowly at first. Within seconds, her eyes appeared to be little balls of sludge. The same viscous fluid dripped from her nostrils, then her mouth. It poured out the latter like a faucet.
"Michael," she said, spraying bits of goo. It splashed on my wrist, only to immediately evaporate. The feeling of absolute cold remained.
Angela stood in place for a moment, utterly still as the fluid oozed from every pore of her body. She resembled a hideous muck creature more than her former self. I watched on, paralyzed by fear, as the figure wheezed.
"Michael," Angela said. The wheezing had an almost mocking tone. It didn't take me long to realize I was hearing laughter. She reached out, hand dripping with sludge, and touched my forehead with a finger. The black ooze spread across my face and neck then engulfed my entire body. I felt the sensation of falling for a brief moment before I splashed into the river. Its current was too strong to fight and the waters too dark to see. The ooze seeped into my nostrils and mouth and my ears. My eyes popped out of their sockets, yet my sight remained unaltered. I tried to pry the sludge from my throat, only for it to grab hold of my fingers.
“My name is Michael,” a voice wheezed.
Liquid sloshed around the inside of my skull and my melted guts seeped out every orifice. My bones were part of that visceral mixture, leaving my rubbery limbs to bend in unnatural directions. An arm wrapped around my throat, followed by my legs, tightening my body into a knot. I was being devoured from the inside without a hint of discomfort.
“Stop struggling,” the voice hissed.
My body had been crushed into a fleshy ball. The nightmarish sludge continued to squeeze and squeeze to no avail. If I were to be swallowed, I would make sure the monster choked or suffered severe indigestion.
And then, a massive jolt—as though the river were struck by a bolt of lightning. The waters lit up for a split second, revealing a plethora of decomposed bodies. I heard a shriek, initially a high-pitched whistle, and then a nerve-rending screech that seared every inch of my mangled body with pain. The river bubbled, its current more of a mixture of oil and foam than water. I was hurled into the air and tossed ashore.
I lay face down in the mud as a black worm slithered from my nose and into the river. Powerless to move, though my body was fully intact, I watched as the worm disappeared into the still waters. Blotches of coagulated blood drifted across the surface like grotesque lily pads, slowly merging together and forming a grayish steam. The foamy river was soon covered by a foggy layer that didn’t move beyond the bank. I dug my fingers into the dirt and mustered all my strength to inch away.
The sound of feet plopping in the mud hastened my sluggish escape to a steady crawl. Its tread was a slower pace than mine, though I didn’t dare turn to face the source in fear of lacking the strength to flip on my back. Dragging my limp body toward a grassy hill a mere ten feet in front of me would take more energy than I had left in my aching
joints. The footsteps were coming from every direction on the riverbank, my initial pursuer far closer than the rest.
My fingers tore into the first patch of grass from its roots. My fists ripped out clumps of the fresh green vegetation, a veritable sign of safety compared to the potential horrors at my back that provided enough vigor to rise on my knees. I foolishly paused, and within seconds, felt a bony wet hand on my neck. I lunged forward with a curse, rolled onto my back, and finally saw the things from the river.
Walking corpses lumbered shoulder to shoulder, remnants of leathery flesh hanging loosely from their skeletal frame like scanty garments. Vacant eye sockets gazed longingly as I clawed my way up the hill, more hampered by fear than exhaustion. More rose from the river and climbed onto the bank, moving the crowd forward. They congregated in a blob, pushed from the back, those in the front seemingly ready to topple over. Some intermittingly rattled their bony fingers and clicked together their rotten teeth, as though to prove their intelligence despite the clumsy mass.
I stopped atop the hill to laugh. The laughter was like medicine for my lethargic body. Rising to my feet, I watched the pitiful corpses trudge beyond the riverbank and at the hill’s bottom. A few reached out as they climbed the steep incline. One fell and split its empty skull, trampled by the rows behind it. They continued to swell from the river and would likely do so until seizing me.
The hill led down to a wide and grassy meadow, followed by endless rows of trees, nearly tall enough to touch the sky. I rushed across the flat land, careful not to exert myself. It was hard to breathe after a short sprint. I reached the first tree and leaned against its trunk for a short rest. Behind me, the corpses blanketed half the field and continued to march down the hilltop. Their utter silence was far more frightening than their vast numbers. The lifeless stride seemed wholly mechanical, though the collective effort communicated something inexplicably sinister.
In the woods, I shuffled past the compact trees and leafy branches, scarcely able to see far ahead because of the dense foliage above. After a brisk walk through the darker section, the trees were a bit more spread out, shining thicker beams of light and revealing more of the odd landscape. The autumn leaves were too colorful to deny their authenticity. Considering my distance from Lily, it was out of place. Had I wandered into something else? Rather than ponder my circumstances further, I continued to trek across the foreign landscape in the hopes of finding a way out. Perhaps my troubles were finally reaching an end.
After a weary chase, I lost sight of the lumbering corpses, but it would be foolish to stop even if I had outrun them by a large margin. My escape was hindered by a strange sight that caused me to pause once again: a blonde girl knelt in front of a bed of pink flowers, much like the garden I had encountered earlier. Tiny pools of water glistened on the petals. They were either lotus flowers or closely resembled them. I recognized the hair as Angela’s, though she was now wearing a plain white dress and a leafy garland adorning her head. She carefully picked the lotuses and placed them in a woven basket full of a colorful assortment of other flowers.
I opened my mouth to speak, but then closed it tight. Holding my breath and creeping forward, I slowly reached out my hand to touch her. My fingertip felt the warmth of Angela’s shoulder, its touch causing a shudder to run down her spine. She let out a gasp and turned her head to face me.
Before we could make eye contact, my body was hurled out of the woods by a tremendous force. Zipping through the sky, I saw the endless mass of corpses march into the woods, still pouring from the dark river. I flew over the town, past Lily’s house and near my starting destination. Rather than fall, I hovered in place as my surroundings dimmed, and then faded into the familiar black void.
The powerful mania that had taken over me quickly subsided. I was left afraid and confused, with a thousand unanswerable questions. Was Angela really the lady in the woods? What pulled me away? Was it all just one elaborate trick? What managed to manipulate my mind?
The nightmarish laughter echoed in my head. That wheezing, followed by Angela's final words: "I'm not real?" A horrid realization struck me.
Was there a difference between us? What if I had never been an actual man, but rather a conjuration in some random fool's mind? I came to self-awareness, and with time, developed a will of my own. Was I merely a form of consciousness passed from vessel to vessel? Was the same true for him? I had to refer to my nemesis as such. If I were to consider myself a man or something like it, then he was no different. That puddle of ooze had far more intelligence than I thought—perhaps more than me.
I had tasked myself to bringing pleasant dreams. If I had learned anything from my latest endeavor, I would only find the truth at the brink of nightmares, even if it resulted in my demise.
Chapter 4:
Adventure on Dinosaur Island
I found myself in a vast jungle. The thick air left me drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe. To my left was a large body of murky green water. I trudged across the muddy shore, grateful for my boots and heavy attire. The hunting jacket served as armor against the bird-sized insects. I crushed a mosquito in the palm of my gloves and wiped the remains against a tree trunk, which I would have mistook for some kind of primitive structure if not for the large leaves hanging off its branches from high above. A rotting stench and the buzzing of insects drifted from a large opening in the trunk.
The strange environment left me simultaneously awestruck and tense. I didn't witness vivid images of exotic wildernesses often. My immediate impulse was to explore. I wasn't the only person in this vast jungle. It was only a matter of time before the dreamer and I crossed paths. My interest was certainly piqued. Who could possibly conjure such a brilliant setting?
A hoarse shout cut short by a bloodcurdling screech left me temporarily frozen in my tracks. The former belonged to a man, while the latter was bestial. A shiver shook my entire body as I heard another shriek.
“Help!” a voice cried. I wasted no time sprinting toward the trees.
Another plea echoed so loudly it couldn't have been more than a few dozen paces away. I soared through leafy branches and hurtled over jutting roots. I spotted a small boy with his back against a tree trunk as another ear-piercing scream left his mouth. He furiously shook his head, his hands clasped tightly over his eyes.
I tripped over something soft and planted into the dirt—the body of an overweight gray-bearded man. A guttural shriek caused me to turn my gaze back toward the boy and finally see the source of that hideous noise.
The reptilian monstrosity snapped its slavering jaws, slowly creeping forward on hind legs, clicking together its black talons. Its clawed toe jutted outward, ready to cleave the boy in a single pounce. The creature's every movement matched its prey perfectly. If the boy inched toward the right, it moved in perfect synchronization.
A rifle lay next to the dead fat man. I picked it up and hoped he hadn’t used the last round. Peering through the crosshairs, I couldn’t get a clear shot of the creature’s jerky body. As it crouched and readied to pounce, I blindly fired a round as its neck lunged forward. The bullet connected with the creature's torso as a shrill shriek left its throat. It fell to the ground twitching, flailing its clawed feet as though attacking an invisible enemy. I approached carefully and fired once more, silencing the beast for good. Its black eyes gazed at me lifelessly.
“You okay, kid?” I asked, inspecting the rifle. I had no rounds left, nor any ammunition in my jacket.
“Dad said dinosaurs are only in the movies. They aren’t supposed to be real,” the boy said.
“You got a name?”
“Peter.”
I walked over to the dead man and saw a large gash across his bloated belly. Despite the lack of blood, the wound looked painful enough to make me squirm. He was wearing military fatigues, a garb similar to mine. I snatched the pistol strapped to his belt and checked the clip. No bullets left. Running into more of those monsters would be a problem. Being picked apart a
nd devoured was about the worst fate I could imagine.
“I'm sorry I left the camp,” Peter said, his eyes downcast. I knelt by his side and patted him on the head. He couldn't have been older than nine or ten. It made sense. Only a child's imagination could be so vividly bizarre.
“Where are the others?”
“I can show you. They won’t be happy about him,” he said, pointing to the dead man. “It’s my fault. I had to pee.”
“Only one at fault is him. Guy should have been more alert. Better than you soaking your drawers. Show me the camp. I promise the others won’t yell at you.”
We walked side by side through the jungle, making as little noise as possible. Various squawks and croaks echoed in the far distance. The sky slowly dimmed and the animal howls increased in pitch and approach. I noticed pairs of yellow eyes peering through the darkness and a hiss so close it could have been right next to my ear. It turned out to be some kind of insect, too swift to swat.
Peter pointed to a small fire in the near vicinity. We quickened our pace and found three figures huddled close to the light. They didn’t budge an inch as we strolled right into the camp.
“Where's Dan?” one of them asked nonchalantly.
“We were attacked,” I replied. “He didn't make it.”
“Figures the fat man bites it,” another chimed in. The former laughed raucously. He stood and plucked a cigarette from his front pocket, mumbling as he lit it: “Our shares just got a whole lot bigger.”
“That's if we find it,” the last one said coarsely. Judging by his scarred countenance and broad shoulders, I pegged him as the leader. “And if we get out of this hell alive.”
“Hell sounds about right,” the second said. He was scrawny, almost emaciated. “If there is a hell, I bet it's full of every last dinosaur. When I die and go to heaven, and I see one of those damn overgrown lizards, even one of those plant eaters, you bet I'll walk as far away from those pearly gates as I can.”
“That's not funny, Gary,” the leader said.