Casha rolled into an alleyway and killed the engine. Her eyes were burning. Just a little sleep was all she needed. How many nights could she keep this up?

“Casha? Casha, I know you're thinking about sleep, but...”

Casha stumbled from the bike and fell to her knees. She leaned back against the wall and drew her knees up to her chin. As pale as the ghost now speaking to her, Casha strained to keep her eyes open.

Teekle, aforementioned ghost, sat next to her, though she floated several inches off the pavement. Very difficult, she always told Casha, to find the ground from the spirit world.

“There's always danger in places like this. I can feel...”

Teekle trailed off.

Nearly in tears, Casha waited, trying to keep her vision from blurring. Teekle gazed off into some unseen dimension.

“Oh. I guess you're safe for now.”

“Nothing dangerous here?”

Teekle shook her head. “Nothing dangerous to us.”

Casha buried her head in her knees and closed her eyes.

“You shouldn't sleep.”

She considered trying to slap the intangible Teekle for a moment, but that wasn't Teekle's voice. Who was that, and how long had she slept?

“Two seconds, if you're wondering how long you've been asleep. And relax. It's just that girl sitting next to you.”

Casha turned. A shivering girl sat close by.

The girl frowned.

“Oh. Wow. You look messed up. I mean, real bad. You almost ran me over with your bike, by the way, and this isn't a good place to sleep off alcohol or...whatever you've been doing. I'm Amelia.”

She extended a hand. Human warmth!

But the hand was freezing. Judging by her ragged look and unkempt hair, this girl didn't get indoors very often.

Casha made a lengthy handshake. “Cash Marly. I just need sleep. Are you...cold? I'll get you a blanket from~”

The girl shook her head and adopted the same knees-up position Casha employed. Darkness was slowly blanketing the city, and the alley filled with shadows. Brother, did Casha hate the shadows. And if this girl was some evil spirit from somewhere on Teekle's side of existence, Casha wasn't sure she had the strength to escape.

The girl looked too cheerfully miserable to be a spirit. Casha produced a blanket from her saddlebag and offered it to the girl.

“I don't want to sleep.”

“Then stay warm. I'll sit next to you. Are you hungry?”

Amelia shook her head. “Got a guy that gives me food in the park. I don't suppose you'd stay awake with me? Only I'm too scared to sleep.”

Alarm bells. Despite everything Teekle said, Casha wasn't allowed to feel safe. Not as long as that book was under her protection. With the entire world hanging in the balance, Casha had to be suspicious of everything. This girl, though, seemed every bit as afraid to shut her eyes as Casha.

“Why don't you want to sleep? If it's getting mugged you're worried about, scoot behind my bike and let them rob me. I'm too tired to care.”

Amelia shook her head, giving Casha an odd look. “Uh...no. It's not that. It's safe to sleep here. It's just not safe to sleep.”

Casha felt like she'd seen that in a movie before. She put her head in her hands. “It's going to be something like that, isn't it? Well? I know you can hear me.”

Teekle looked appalled. “I said it was safe. I wouldn't lie.”

Amelia, unable to see Teekle and assuming Casha was talking to her, tilted her head. “Er, yes, I can hear you. Look, if you're not feeling well, I know a place where you can get help.”

Casha shook her head, and the movement almost caused her to slip into that peaceful dreamworld she so yearned to visit right now. “But seriously. Why shouldn't I sleep?”

The girl shivered. “If you sleep, the White Child will come for you.”

Casha turned and gave Teekle a look of accusation. Teekle shrugged.

“She's probably batty.” said Teekle.

Amelia went on. “It was a strange dream. I was in a bed, and that's not something that happens much. I remember trying to fall asleep. Imagine trying to fall asleep in a dream! But it felt very real. My whole body felt heavy. I tried to move and couldn't. At first it just felt weird. If I could just start to rise a little, I could get up, no problem. But the only part of me that could move was my head.”

Casha listened. She'd had strange dreams before. Things like feeling heavy and not being able to move happened sometimes. What worried her was the way the girl was shaking. Amelia was probably used to this cold, and right now they were both wrapped in the same blanket, sharing warmth.

Amelia was not just telling a story. She was reliving trauma.

“That's when the White Child appeared. He stood over me, just staring with those eyes. He was like a big, ceramic statue in the shape of a boy. All white. I think he was glowing, or there was some kind of light behind him. I could tell he was holding me in place with that gaze. I felt like my ghost was shaking inside my body, trying to move, but I was pinned in place. It was...It was...”

This girl was gone. Not crazy, just weary from being trapped in a nightmare and trying to figure out how to escape.

Casha understood this.

“This child...Does he try to hurt you?”

Amelia shook her head. “He just stares, and he makes it so I can't move. Then I wake up, and I know it's a dream, but it feels a little different. Different enough that I feel like maybe it was really, you know, real. And it's so confusing, because he looks, I don't know, so nice.”

“How many times did it happen?”

“Seven.”

Casha felt her heart start to pound. She could not discount the idea that something was happening to this girl. The question was whether someone – or something – was after the book.

“I don't suppose you're protecting some ancient charm or book or something?”

Amelia looked sour. “I thought you wouldn't make fun of me.”

Casha raised a hand. “I just thought you could use a laugh. Tell you what. Let's just fall asleep, and if the White Child shows up, maybe we'll be safe together.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Casha wanted to sleep if it meant a thousand White Children. And for once, she didn't have to sleep alone. If they could both make it through the night, Casha would buy Amelia a nice meal and some warm clothes.

Teekle stood lookout while Casha slept. Probably not a useful post, since Teekle was fairly certain that shouting at Casha to wake her up would give her friend some very ghostly nightmares. However, Teekle got a bit of a kick out of watching the two girls' heads slowly fall forward as they fell asleep, and they ended up leaning into each other, curled up under a single blanket like a couple of kids.

“Well. That's just adorable.” Teekle muttered, grinning.

Suddenly, Teekle's eyes glowed a deep crimson. Something had moved close by.

She looked down at the two girls again.

Yes. Very close.

Indignation! Being left on her back after loaning a blanket to...

Casha awoke. The dream faded away from memory, and she couldn't recall to whom she had loaned the blanket. Devilish darkness surrounded her, yet she was ensconced in heavenly softness and warmth. Her eyes tried to drift shut, but there was no going back to sleep.

A clock ticked, and her skull throbbed. Casha realized she was at home, in her room. The mattress was a cloud. Pain and weariness seemed to drift away, and all the screaming and terror of her dreams vanished into the abyss of memory.

She was so tired! Her outstretched arms wouldn't move. She focused her efforts, but in her drowsiness, she just couldn't get them to budge. In an extreme act of will, she tried to hurl herself to one side, but Casha remained on her back, staring at the ceiling.

Her head could move a little. She turned and looked at the wall. Something seemed wrong with the colors, and she must have been very tired, for the space between her bed and the walls was nothing but a dark chasm without a floor. Casha's heart started to pound, inexplicably.

Fighting to keep her eyes open, she turned her head, and there Casha felt a chill grow from the center of her gut, right up into her chest. At the edge of her bed stood a creature of dull white, like plaster, glowing dimly and staring at her with solid white eyes. The figure was that of a young boy, taller than herself, and statuesque, because he was, in fact, a statue.

The statue moved. He looked her up and down, then stared into her eyes with his own. Casha remembered hearing about the White Child from...somewhere. He sent terror coursing through every inch of Casha. She struggled to get upright, to push herself away, but it was no use. Her spirit lay trapped in a body that would not respond, her mind screaming in visceral desperation. The boy moved closer. Casha could feel the heaviness he exuded, a power that held her in place. She tried to scream, but all that escaped her throat was a tired groan.

“Who are you?”

The child turned to stare at the newcomer. Casha felt some of the weight lifted, but movement was still impossible. Her heart felt like it might beat out of her chest. Was that Teekle?

Teekle had a ghostly glow about her. Casha furrowed her brow, trying to understand. What was Teekle doing in her room? Teekle was away on a long trip, wasn't she? Or hadn't something happened to...Oh, what was it? There was something important about Teekle that Casha couldn't remember.

The White Child faced Teekle, not with menace, but with curiosity. Teekle returned the look, but there was a hint of suspicion in her eyes, and she looked serious.

Teekle never looked serious. Bless her soul, she was the most air-headed girl Casha knew. Teekle was usually cross-eyed in deep thought about things like, say, tying her shoes. Casha couldn't imagine what had happened to make this change in Teekle, but her presence was reassuring.

Was Teekle in any danger from this strange statue boy? Casha struggled and twisted, tearing at invisible bonds. Nothing helped. She could only watch dully as Teekle and the White Child confronted one another.

“What are you doing to Casha?”

The ceramic boy looked at Casha, then back at Teekle. He must have decided Teekle didn't matter, because he turned his full attention on Casha, and Casha felt a great weight press her fixedly to the mattress. The pressure caused her to crave rest, to slip deeper into the blackness of sleep.

Teekle pouted angrily Her eyes flared a threatening red. “Get away from her! Casha? Casha, you need to wake up. You're dreaming. Casha!”

What on earth was she talking about? This wasn't a dream. This was her room! This had to be her room! She struggled and twisted, but strain as she might, her body was a stone.

Was Teekle somehow trapped here, too? Casha felt an urgent need to rise and rescue her ever-stumbling friend. Teekle always needed rescuing, and probably always would. Hadn't Casha decided long ago to always protect her best friend?

“I'm not the one trapped, Casha! I'm already dead! Literally zero reason to ever worry about me again!”

The statement sent a jolt through Casha. Why would Teekle spout a dreadful lie like that? Teekle hardly lied about anything.

No. Teekle absolutely wouldn't lie about that.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...

Teekle was dead. Memories can flooding back. The book, the collapse, the flight on the motorcycle...the terrible evil!

Don't panic, now, Casha! But was that her arm starting to burn? The markings that had etched themselves into her flesh sizzled. Casha never should have used magic from that book. One day, the curse would consume her, for she had little choice anymore, when faced with her demons, but to call upon a power from another world.

She summoned that power now. Slowly, so slowly, Casha found her arm lifting, and felt herself able to rise. Even with the magic, the effort was extreme, but she could do it.

The White Child turned on her, marching toward the bedside. He bore down upon her with every ounce of his power, trying to force Casha back onto the bed.

It was too late. Casha rose up from the bed and matched his powerful gaze. This was quite some spirit that she was up against. Normally, they had little power to bind the living in place. Perhaps in her dreams, the spirits were stronger.

No problem there. Casha was waking up.

“Oh no. Casha, I think we misunderstood...I think we...What the hell is that!?”

Teekle vanished from the dream, leaving behind a terrible aura of urgency.

Fires rose around Casha's bed, and she heard drums beating. The room slipped away. She stood before the White Child, and he seemed to carry pity in her eyes as the dream fell apart. What was really going on here? Casha struggled to reach out to the White Child, trying to hold the dream together long enough to find answers, but it was too late. She had willed herself into wakefulness.

The dream was gone.

Amelia was still there, drooling on Casha's shoulder. Casha felt the magic burning her skin and knew the dream was real. Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought she might die right there.

Indeed she might. Weariness became panic, which became fear of the unknown, which in turn became fear of the known, for looming overhead stood a ten-foot tall horror. The very darkness bubbled and turned a smokey purple, and within those dimly glowing mists moved a blurred shape comprised of tentacles and curling limbs. The head of the thing may or may not have been hideous, but the dark smoke surrounding the creature lent all sorts of horrific ideas to the imagination.

There was a scream in Casha's ear. Amelia struggled from under the blanket, but Casha grabbed the girl and placed a hand over her mouth.

The scream meant that Amelia could see it.

“Get back! Stay behind me!”

Casha threw off the blanket and shoved the girl behind a flimsy, aluminum garbage can. Tearing at her saddlebag, Casha retrieved the book and slammed it open onto the concrete, feverishly flipping through the pages.

Teekle was there, between the purple fumes of evil and Casha. Teekle had made a last-minute save, probably the only reason Casha hadn't awakened to her own slaughter.

“Casha? I can't hold it! It doesn't understand what I am, but as soon as it works things out, it's going to kill you!”

Casha started to mutter unreadable words. She traced with an index finger. A glow marked the ground in deep crimson as Casha drew the eldritch shapes of a powerful spell. She understood the magic instinctively, because the book was using her; whether for good or evil, she knew not.

“Oh my god,” cried Amelia, “What's going on!?”

Teekle struggled to overwhelm the creature with spiritual essence. It started to twist and squirm, and it let out a roar only heard on a psychic level. Casha fell back, and Amelia was struck a blow to the head as she rolled into the tire of Casha's bike. The creature swatted at Teekle, but the blow passed right through. Next, the tentacles in the mists began to rise, preparing to strike out at the two girls who weren't already inured to death.

The White Child suddenly took form before Casha's eyes. It stared deep into her soul, as if asking her a question.

Teekle gave a strained shout. “Casha, I figured him out. It's this thing. It hunts through the darkness, but it cannot see a dreaming soul. It's not from the spirit world! Forget the book! Grab Amelia, and let the White Child put you both to sleep! That's the only safe place!”

Casha leapt for Amelia. Likely, Amelia could see neither Teekle nor the White Child. Casha pulled Amelia close, held her hand and said, “Listen, I can make this go away. I just need you to close your eyes. Trust me and close your eyes, and this nightmare will end. I promise.”

Amelia stared, perplexed and whiter than the White Child himself.

But she nodded, and the two girls shut their eyes and squeezed each other's hands tightly.

The White Child touched both their foreheads. Their grips loosened, and all was darkness.

At dawn, where monsters could not hunt, Casha wrapped Amelia in the blanket. The girl was sound asleep, looking peaceful. Carefully, Casha slipped some money in the girl's coat, and turned her back. She kicked the stand out and walked her motorcycle toward the street. Best to leave Amelia to think it was all a nightmare.

“That thing will starve with the White Child here to protect everyone. She'll be safe. Not saying goodbye?” Teekle asked.

Casha shook her head. No point. Friends were not a luxury Casha could afford.

Not living ones, at least.

“I couldn't even help here. I can never do anything.” Casha complained.

There was a tired bitterness in her voice.

But Teekle looked back at the girl they had met, now tucked away down a dark alley, bundled in a blanket with a little love and caring.

“Oh, I don't know. I think you always manage to do a little something when it counts.”