Saving Nightlock

8. Granny Conspiracies

September 25, 09:30 P.M.

Tallahassee, Florida, U.S.A.

The Blakemore House, Number 16 on St. Lawrence Street.

Upper bedroom, last door, Irene's room.

IRENE

The dreams are always the same. It's odd how many dead people have been in them lately—it's as if I feel guilt for the killings. But why should I? I am the judge, and they were found guilty. They deserved to die.

The setting always changes, but the smell never does. It smells like death—like feces and ashes covered in syrup. If rage, despair, terror and horror had a smell, they'd be eternally present as well. I'm in a canoe in the middle of the lake. Menacing shadows creep along the sides of the canoe, tilting it till I fall down on my knees. Two faceless corpses rise in front me, clothed in rags. Even in death, they hold each other close.

"Mother?" I whisper, my voice cracking, "Daddy?"

The smaller figure, my mother, reaches out a hand as if to help me—then retracts it suddenly in an awkward motion. Identical black holes open in the middle of their faces as they turn to look upwards. It's as though they were screaming at the sky. Screaming soundlessly. They clutch at each other even tighter.

Then, just like that, they vanish.

In their place appears a middle-aged man in a grey business suit. Cedric. He appears to be talking to someone very far away; he's shouting, waving his arms.

Another face appears in the mist. A young girl with white roses braided into her hair holds a warm, wriggling puppy. When she smiles, you can see all of her baby teeth.

"Harmony!" I croak out, trying to get her attention. But it's no use. It's as if I've been drugged, I'm so helpless. My little sister runs joyfully up to Cedric, who scoops her up and puts her into a box.

"No!" I scream, and try to jump out of the canoe. But it's impossible. I'm simply thrown back by the shadows.

A second later, the box explodes in a flurry of red sparks. A child's scream echoes around and around, increasing in volume until my ear drums shatter and burst.

Sobbing uncontrollably, I'm dragged to the side and pushed headfirst into the water. I can almost taste the mud at the bottom of this lake. The cold surrounding my temples reminds me of a gun barrel.

Have I been found guilty?

"What if she never wakes up?!" An irritating voice tickles my brain, making me want to bury deeper into my pillow. I seem to wake up with my head pounding like this...a lot more than most people. Why me?

I can't move at all, my whole body feels like it's been dragged through a jungle of knives. Especially my right hip. And my knees. And everything else. But I sigh with relief, because I'm with the girls, and because Isabella hasn't betrayed me. Yet.

"Nah, she'll wake up," another voice giggles, "Irene always pulls through without a problem. She's awesome like that. Don't worry too much about it."

Scarlett, I realize. What does she find so funny? And the other voice must be Isabella. That girl has a lot to answer for.

"Well, what the heckerdoddle am I going say when she does?!"

"I don't know. Figure it out! Aren't you supposed to be the genius here?"

"I know! I know! But I just...I don't know! What if she kicks me out?!" A sharp bang follows this statement and I grudgingly open my eyes to see Isabella with her forehead pressed against the wall.