Algernon Black

(Chapter 7) Awake to the Nightmare

Algernon woke from his sleep to immediately fling off his sheets. He was drenched in sweat as he grabbed the sides of his mattress so hard the knuckles of his hands turned as pale white as his face while the ring he wore on his left hand vibrated manically.

He could feel the presence of cool dread in the pitch darkness like it was a cold wind on his cheek. He tried to calm down, but he'd already lost the fight with his mind, and awakening from his nightmare opened his eyes to the one he formed into reality.

Near his door, an upside-down face materialized from the top corner of his room where two of the walls met in darkness. Out of the shadow, stretched the old, wrinkled face of a man the color of greying human flesh. The two black voids of its wide eyes stayed fixed completely on Algernon as its body slowly unrolled.

Algernon remained as calm as he could watching the rest of the creature uncoil like a snake until the mangled bony form of an inhumanly tall and thin person faced him. Its mouth cascaded black oozing clouds that fell into its wisps of caustic black hair. Yet it didn't move. Only keeping eye contact with Algernon, who stared back at it as he tried to suppress all feelings of fear in him. Every feral detail of the creature became clearer as he concentrated on it. Its gray see-through skin clinging to its bony frame. A mangled fleshly smile with teeth bigger than any human should have. And black chipped nails as sharp as razor talons.

As Algernon faced the creature head-on his heartbeat began steadying with his fear leaving him. In reaction, the monster, with eyes still locked on Algernon, began coiling back into the darkness it was birthed from.

Algernon trained all his attention on the creature, forcing it away with his mind, which was the same way it had come alive. It was all but gone, its black eyes being the last thing to vanish when a sudden noise at his window elevated his adrenaline again as he switched his gaze away for only a second.

Shit, he thought, and in the millisecond, it took to turn back around, the creature was before him, hanging by its feet from the ceiling with its talon finger slicing at his neck.

Its long black nails cracked against steel to create the sing of metal; the only sound made in the room as Algernon called his artifact just in time to prevent it from gouging out his throat.

The expression on the creature's twisted face stayed the complete same as it drew slowly closer to Algernon through the curve of his scythe. It only stopped when it was a hair's length away. Its huge gaping black eyes took up almost the entire center of its face and peered directly into his with an upside-down smile. From this close-up, when one was supposed to be able to see themselves reflected in the eyes of another, all Algernon could see in the creature's was a black draining void.

Algernon swung the back end of his blade up, until the other end of the double-ended scythe pierced the hollow body of the demon. The monster seemed not to notice at all as it continued with its wicked smile, even as its body began to vaporize in a cloud of dust. Again, its black eyes were the last fragments of the alive nightmare to disappear.

Algernon signed and returned his weapon to its ring form. He glowered down at the black jewelry piece and placed it onto his right ring finger before raising his hands to the wall sconces of his room. They all lit themselves alive at the minute use of his magic.

The bleak room of Algernon's childhood was sold and austere, decorated in a timeless fashion that hadn't been updated since the estate was built over 500 hundred years ago. It had stayed the same all his life, as had the nightmares made real by his mind and magic.

Drawing back the curtains, Algernon peered out into the night scape, watching the moon as he contemplated his never-ending hardships. He knew there was only one way to put an end to them, but he could only fantasize of such a peace, for now. Donning his black overcoat, Algernon stalked out of the room.

His steps landed on a thick aged carpet that kept the silence of night completely intact as he went down the dark hallway of his family's home. He passed six doors on the way to the stairs all of which had remained unoccupied for decades. On the other end of the hallway was another corridor with another six doors, one of which was the master suite where his mother slept alone. His father's presence had long ago been lost, but his memory never did. Algernon had been young at the time, but he still thought about his father every time he passed his portrait. His mother always said they looked so much alike, but all he found similar was their black hair and eyes, because in his father's portrait, he always seemed to have a light behind his eyes, like he was seeing something good, drastically different from his son who had his eyes pried opened to the brutal truths of this world far too young.

Algernon finished his trek through the hallway of memories until he got to the grand staircases leading to the living room. It was dark but he could perfectly recall every detail of the home he had lived in for the last 18 years of his life. There was a stone fireplace to his left, and well-worn dark wood floors. An ornate massive chandelier hung overhead, that they almost never lit. Instead, they used wall sconces which created dim dramatic lighting to fit the old home's age.

He came to the double french doors at the back of the living room where the night was let in and followed the outdoor pebble trail to his safe haven. It was here that he had spent some of the best times of his life as a child, quietly in the safety of the greenhouse working to keep alive all varieties of plants.

Once inside, he lit the overheard chandeliers with a wave of his hands and a semblance of magic. The room was 50 feet long and 20 feet wide, harboring an uncountable number of plants lining every wall and table inside. Stained glass was used for the windows and reflected the light of the chandeliers down in a variety of bright hues, but all the color was lost on Algernon as his black hair and eyes absorbed all light, never giving any off.

Making his way over to a group of barley budding plants he had set aside earlier in the week, Algernon carefully monitored one of its kinds development. He had made the arrangements to transfer these ones specifically to the greenhouse of Attwood where he would be starting his education on Monday and would be moving into the dorms tonight. The plant in his hand started to droop sideways absorbing the emotions he was giving off from the thought of such a feat.

Algernon examined the ficklest and most sensitive species of plant he had ever raised, you're one to worry. He chastised as he boxed the plant up with the rest of its kind.

Algernon sighed. The one place of peace he had in the world, and he was trading it for a palace of monsters. At least he had his experiences with many and every kind, enough to prepare him for what awaited him in that cursed castle in the clouds.