PROLOGUE
JUST LIKE ALWAYS
Vi glared expectantly into the infinite darkness, as she had every night for the last ten years. It swirled before her, showing her glimpses of different pathways she could take, and the different possibilities that waited at the ends. For the most part, they were an amalgamation of her personal experiences and pop culture. All these were tricks designed to weaken her will. There were strings attached to each of them, little quirks that lurked on the periphery, slowly corrupting the dream around them until it became a nightmare.
Last night, Vi had watched helplessly as the world ended, as her friends and family died until at last she too was crushed beneath a fallen skyscraper. She felt everything, even beyond the point when she should have died, crushed to a pulp beneath tons of warped metal. She’d suffocated, then her chest had caved in. That same dream was there again, as if she were stupid enough to pick it a second time.
Sensing resistance, the darkness picked at her mind for weaknesses. Vi knew it would find one eventually--it always did--but this trivial defiance gave her strength she would desperately need later that night. It took all her willpower to remind herself she was only dreaming and not to give in completely to fear.
YOU ARE AFRAID.
“Nope,” said Vi, although not aloud. She was as formless as the darkness here. Still, her voice echoed through her mind, and the darkness heard, and squirmed as if annoyed. She could see its movement like ripples in a pool of ink. If Vi had a face, she would smile. Few things were better than making things difficult for Her.
Vi could sense Her, somewhere out there, waiting for an opening. She could almost see that smug expression falter for just a moment, the evil eyes light with anger. The darkness squirmed again, reacting to her thoughts.
YOU ARE AFRAID.
“I’m not,” said Vi, although it wasn’t quite as true. Merely being here made her uneasy and unsure like nothing else could. Eventually, she would get dragged down into the mire and suffer for the rest of the night.
YOU ARE AFRAID.
“I’m not afraid,” said Vi, quieter this time. It was getting harder to control her thoughts. This was how the darkness won, if she resisted. It bided its time, waiting for her own fear and doubt to open holes it couldn’t itself. But resisting was still better than giving in. She cast out her consciousness again, searching for Her, hoping to get another rise and buy herself a few more minutes. She found her easily enough, and--
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Wait. No, it was something else. Something foreign. Something that shouldn’t be here, that couldn’t be here.
YOU ARE AFRAID.
Vi had lost her focus. She felt something snap as Her darkness slipped through Vi’s defenses and into the deep recesses of her mind, where it consumed her.
All but unnoticed, the trespasser followed.
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You are standing alone in the center of your bedroom, and you notice traces of blood on the closed door. Your blood. You look at your hands and see you’ve cut yourself. Foolish. You know that whatever is here with you, it can smell blood. It hungers for it. You feel the fear.
No you don’t.
You feel you should be panicking, but an odd sense of calm washes over you. Gathering your wits, you search for anything that can help you stop the bleeding. But you know your bedroom well, and there is nothing here that can help you.
This is not your bedroom.
And yet, it isn’t your bedroom. Not quite. The subtle differences become more apparent, and you realize that if this isn’t your bedroom, there may be something here to help. But what? You can’t seem to think of anything.
A shirt in the dresser drawer.
THERE IS NOTHING IN THE DRAWER.
You decide to check the dresser drawer, but it’s empty. Damn. The fear is back again, clawing. You can sense whatever’s hunting you getting closer, drawn to your blood. It’s going to eat you alive. It’s going to open you up with its razor claws, and you will not die quickly. You will not go into shock. You will feel everything.
Not if you run.
You run, a mad dash for the window. It’s right behind you. You can feel its rotten breath on your neck. You can hear its footsteps, slamming hard against the wooden floor and racing faster than anything should be. Too late. It has you. It has you.
YOU ARE AFRAID.
You are not afraid.
But you are not afraid. This pain is not real. That is not your blood. Those are not your guts. This is only a dream. This is only a dream. This is only a dream.
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A shudder, and Vi once more glared into the darkness. It seethed angrily, beaten for now and not taking it well. She loomed beyond it, matching Vi’s gaze.
“I am not afraid,” said Vi.
YOU WILL BE AFRAID.
And the darkness lost its form and gave way to pleasant dreams. Vi let herself sink into them, blissful, but always aware that She was watching and waiting for another chance. Just like always.
The trespasser secreted itself in the margins, and began its ill work.