Cloak of Deceit

Chapter Three

I dreamed. This time nothing soothed away the pain or the horror. I was alone. Exposed. Falling into an endless abyss that was both cradling me and tearing at me like a raging funnel of wind. Black shadows swirled, pealing scraps of me off to become ash and join with the shadows. Powerful gusts wracked me from every side.

Suspended in freefall, I couldn’t hear my own screams over the howling wind. My physical body didn’t hurt, but whatever lived inside of it — my soul, my spirit — writhed in agony. Each piece that was stripped away left me raw and aching.

There was no sense of time. An eternity passed before I slammed into the bottom. I splattered into a formless puddle of sentient ooze. Drops of me clung together and gathered into runnels, trying to take shape. But they couldn’t fit like they had before. Parts of me were missing. And yet, I could draw from the primordial grit below me, from the haze hanging all around.

The elements in this strange state of consciousness whispered to me, offering themselves.

Join with us. You are a part of us.

Slowly, I re-built myself, guided by the voices, until I found the new me — Alex — lying there on the dry, scratchy ground. The darkness was so absolute, I couldn’t tell if I still had eyes.

As I rose to my feet, the voices took on unique tones, murmuring in a nonsensical rabble. A faint white light glowed overhead. Relief bubbled up inside me. I didn’t like the penetrating shadows. If I surrendered, would they swallow me whole?

The voices grew more insistent, rising to a confusing crescendo. I covered my ears, but it made no difference. They came from inside my head as much as outside.

The light grew steadily closer, and I surged with hope for a reprieve from the oppressive whispers. Their words felt like icy fingers probing inside my head, worming through me as if I were still made of that molten substance.

A puddle of light reached me and ebbed slowly outward, brightening the landscape. Which just brought into relief that I was surrounded by the formless shadows on all sides.

The voices enveloped me, coiling through my insides, sucking at the form I had created for myself with more desperation. The shadows kept whispering, caressing me, trying to make me a part of the darkness, one piece at a time. I fought and drew away, imagining that I could slice through them with my thoughts, but like a hydra, for every one I stopped, two more reached out.

“Leave me alone!” I shouted to hear my own voice over the whispers.

The shadows reared back.

I ran, with no direction. There wasn’t really ground underneath me, or air in my lungs, but I ran in what felt like deep sand — as hard as I could.

Behind me, the darkness built into a towering wave. The voices became a collective force, shaking the ground, even the air. They crested overhead as the sand receded under my strides.

“No!” I screamed as the wave curled over me, shutting out the light.

I woke up screaming and dripping with sweat. The room was tilting from side to side. The voices had stopped, but a low rumble and frantic rattling engulfed me. The ground actually was shaking. It wasn’t just the remnants of my dream.

The walls vibrated. Pictures slid to the floor. The lamp toppled over and broke, plunging the room into darkness, as if the shadows had tried to follow me back into the real world.

I leapt from my bed, surprisingly quick and agile, as if gravity had less hold on me. I braced myself in the doorway while the building continued to shimmy, the forty year-old joists creaking in protest.