Raccoons

A tale of a man who finds his nightmares are much more than simple dreams gone evil.

Raccoons

 “Do not ignore dreams. They are a line from the past to the future. All nightmares are real.” 
― Max Gladstone, Two Serpents Rise

 

A scream filled the quiet. That cry of terror came from me, from my mouth.  It vocalized the excruciating pain that coursed through me, my unabated fear and my feeling of being so completely trapped.

My head or rather I should say the head in my nightmare was stuck tightly in a narrow space close to the ground. It appeared to be the opening of a foundation vent that held me prisoner. I was looking sideways through it and seeing sun light flickering through the flooring’s cracks.  My head’s position was an awkward one that I couldn’t change.  Within the dimly illuminated subterranean place I could see floor joists, the underside of decking, spider webs and darting lizards. My face protruded from one side of my prison and my body the other as if I was locked in some medieval stocks.

A large sliver or nail that protruded from the top of the opening’s frame held me captive. Every time I tried to extricate my head, the object sliced deeper into my left ear.  I was caught like a fish on a hook.  I tried to stop the panic that grew within me, but it enveloped me regardless. I was nauseous with fear and even worse I was afraid that if I puked, that violence would impale my head worse.  My heart was beating so loud that I feared I’d have a heart attack.  To gain control of my fear I’d take long and deep breathes, but panic still surged through me.

The pointed object impaling me was solid enough that in each attempt I’d make to free myself, it painfully penetrated deeper into my ear instead of breaking off. I couldn’t push my head deeper into the hole to extricate the object from my ear and I couldn’t reach it with my hands because there wasn’t enough room for my fingers in the narrow opening.  I could feel the terror racing through my mind as I toyed with the idea of just yanking my head free, but would I end up with a spike embedded deep in my brain?

As I felt the helplessness of this situation, the tentacles of claustrophobia grabbed my mind and filled me with even more panic.  Suddenly something large in the shadows started growling. I could make out its glistening teeth sparkling in the dim light and its round black eyes staring at me. I yelled out for help and jerked about in my sleep and then suddenly I awoke from this nightmare.  I was panting, soaked in sweat and my left ear was scratched and bleeding.  Apparently during the nightmare I’d ripped at it with my finger nails as if I was living the claustrophobic horror.

That was the first of a series of nightmares I had in Las Vegas prior to my arrest for murder.  Nightmares should only live in your subconscious and never in the world of the living.   In nightmares things dredged from the dark can stab you, tear at your flesh and even eat you with impunity because in nightmares there isn’t any consequence for the evil.  Somehow my nightmares crossed over from the heart stopping realm of the darkness in our subconscious into the world of reality and consequences; or more precisely, someone’s reality was my nightmare. As odd as it may seem, on waking from these nightmares I felt a great deal of guilt and anxiety.

These horrible nightmares started just eight months ago after my motor cycle accident that smashed in part of my skull.  It was a violent accident where I was thrown head first off of my motorcycle into a metal light pole. My impact with the pole caved in the left side of my skull.  The doctor’s claimed it was a miracle I survived since the crushed section was at least an inch deep.  Paramedics were on the scene immediately and resuscitated me, rushed me to a hospital where their staff cut away a part of my crushed skull to let my brain recover.  I was in an induced coma for days while they battled the swelling of my brain.  When I finally regained consciousness, I discovered that they had replaced the left side of my pulverized skull cap with a 6 inch plate of titanium.   I have a skull now made from the same material that spacecrafts are made from.

I wasn’t the only tragedy of my motorcycle accident. My beautiful wife, Nicole, was also tossed off the bike and suffered some broken bones and scratches, but nothing disfiguring or crippling.

Since the accident, the nightmares have become so powerful and debilitating that I feel I’m becoming narcoleptic. Almost all of my dreams become nightmares and wake me in panic or total terror. Unlike normal nightmares, these are vivid and stay lucid in my mind long after I awake.  The result of all of this is that I feel terribly tired to the point where my work is affected and job threatened.

Then one day I won a trip to Las Vegas and it appeared that my life was changing. It was from one of those car dealership drawings and oddly enough hours later I became a winner of twenty five hundred dollars from a scratch off card at our favorite Shell Gas Station. My wife, Nicole, took these two winnings as a message or a sign that my luck had radically changed. She adamantly wanted me to take the vacation and get away from our day to day existence.  I wanted her to go with me, but I’d won only a free trip for one.  Nicole finally convinced me that I should go by myself. “Just don’t bring any disease home,” she said with a smile.

So off to Vegas I went and quickly discovered that my lucky streak had abandoned me the moment I stepped onto the casino floor. In the first few hours in Vegas I lost three hundred and twenty dollars.  The nightmares, however stuck with me and on the first night a claustrophobic nightmare plagued me.  I awoke from it and decided to get out of my room and try my luck at gambling once more.

I took a refreshing shower washing the sweat from my hair and the caked blood from my ear.  My mind kept flashing back to my last nightmare that still felt so real to me.  I finished my shower and put on some clean clothes.  Seconds later I was standing in front of the elevator; its door opened and I stepped into an already quite full elevator. As we descended, I watched the numbers on the console.  A couple floors below we stopped and a young couple pushed in and turned to face the closing door. The woman turned her head to me and smiling said, “Excuse me but it is so crowded.”  She had sort of aquamarine eyes, at least that is what they looked like to me. Her partner growled something that I couldn’t understand. He appeared drunk.  A smile of resignation spread across her beautiful face as she turned back to stare at the door of the elevator.  Her bubble butt pressed hard up against my crotch.  I took in her perfume.  It was intoxicating. When the door opened her blond hair fluttered across my face.

On the casino floor they both got out and she turned towards me, touched my arm and said, “Sorry for crowding you so much!”  Her companion jerked her arm and she clomped seductively away on her high heels.

I stood there outside the elevator for a couple moments still smelling her lingering perfume.  The little encounter had made me totally forget about the nightmare that had woken me.

I walked out on the Casino floor looking for my favorite slot machine. I was so tired that I didn’t want to play anything that really required thinking.  These nightmares had been going on strong for two days now and had really left me sleep deprived.  I played for a few hours, but my exhaustion got the best of me and I went back to my room.  I needed a nap.  Maybe with a few drinks under my belt and a large cheeseburger with fries I’d be able to sleep without waking up.  The dreams were so frequent and frightening that I feared falling asleep.  However, exhaustion won over my fears and I fell asleep almost instantly. 

Again I woke up with a start, sweating and screaming. This time the nightmare was totally different. It was a man’s face I saw in the dream and he was choking me. He was trying to kill me. My throat actually felt like someone had been choking me.  I could hardly breathe and my attempt at screaming was a muffled, garbled noise. No one could’ve heard it. Again the remnants of the dream swirled around in my brain. It was a very different dream. It was an obscene vision.  A man had been choking me and I think trying to force his penis into my mouth.  It was an odd dream. One that I’m ashamed of telling you, but I need for you to understand.  I could remember his body thrashing above me smashing hard into me over and over as he spit on me and slapped my face.  I think I was dreaming that I was being fucked as insane as it may seem.   I still remembered his sweat dripping on my face and him yelling at me that I was a w***e.  The word w***e was ringing in my ear when I awoke.  Once awake, I felt helpless and guilty that I was unable to stop this evil that visited me in my nightmares.

This was a dream that I wanted to forget and so I returned back to the casino floor.  I put in a hundred dollars and was playing my favorite machine.  I’d planned to do some shopping in the Roman Forum.  It always made me feel like I was in a different world.

I temporarily closed my eyes and just listened to the bells, and beeps of the machine which told me what was going on.  To my shame I ended up falling asleep right there on the Casino floor.

The dream of my head being trapped in a hole returned.  Again, I saw the terror through the victim’s eyes; I was simply an observer of this person’s horror.  My heart raced as I recognized the presence of three massive raccoons and 4 baby raccoons pacing menacingly in front of my imprisoned head. My eyes moved around in panic watching the raccoons circle and then just squat in front of me glaring at me for what seemed like eternity. Then they would slowly move closer to my face and hiss and growl showing their sharp teeth.  When they opened their mouth their teeth looked razor sharp and glistened. The three large ones towered over my head as they strutted around in front of me and bared their teeth. I wasn’t able to move my head and they would move out of my sight and then return.  One or two of them would always be in front of me staring at me, growling, baring their teeth and making hissing sounds.  Then one of the smaller raccoons started edging in closer. His eyes locked on mine and I could see his nose twitch as he sniffed my scent or more likely the fear that I exuded.  His nose was but inches away from my face. I could see his twitching whiskers and his black eyes studying me. Suddenly he darted towards me and there was a sense of my face being pulled and yanked.  Then he was back in front of me, growling once more, but with blood shimmering on his glistening white teeth; my blood.  He had bitten me.  Now they all started to move about more agitated. Their black eyes searching my face, registering the fear that it displayed. I know I was trying to scream and move away from the advancing hissing raccoons.  I was terrified. They all were baring their teeth and growling, hissing and suddenly I awoke from the hellish dream.

My eyes opened wide and instead of raccoons staring menacingly at me two police officers stood before me inquisitively watching as I regained my senses .Through a mental haze I recognized that they were asking me if I was okay. They studied my face and looked at me oddly.  I was sweating profusely and my hair hung heavy in front of me drenched in perspiration. My actions or words while catnapping had apparently frighten the gawkers. They clustered around in small groups looking at me like I was a carnival freak.

A uniformed officer identified himself as Officer Sampson told me I’d been screaming during my impromptu nap.  I’m sure I looked totally lost because I was. Partially my dumbstruck look was because I was trying to remove myself from the horrors that I’d just been witnessing and a sudden powerful feeling that what I’d just dreamed was real.  Someone was enduring this raccoon attack right now.

The officer grabbed my shoulder and shook me and asked me again, “Are you okay.”  I finally replied, “Yes officer.  Sorry I think I was having a nightmare. I’m truly sorry. Let me cash out and I will go back up in my room and catch a nap.”  I proceeded to cash out, but while I was doing that the officer asked me to show some identification.  I took out my driver’s license and handed it to him.  He glanced at my license, shook his head knowingly, glanced at his partner and handed the license to him. Then to my surprise he said, “Mr. Fagan, we need you to come with us to answer some questions.”    

I was still in a daze and asked what was up. Officer Sampson said just some routine questions we need to ask you. Then the two of them grabbed my arms and started escorting me out of the casino.  The crowd of gawkers parted as they led me to an exit. I again asked, “What is going on? Where are you taking me?”

Without even looking at me, Officer Sampson said, “Need to talk to you about an incident that happened earlier today.  Got to take you down to the Vegas police station.”

 

When we got to the police station, I was taken to an interview room and left there alone for at least 10 minutes.  I’m sure they were gawking at me over the security cameras blinking at me up in the top left corner of the interrogation room. 

Suddenly the door flung open. A tall woman wearing a blue jacket and skirt with a badge hanging from her belt greeted me with a curt, “Hello Mr. Fagan.   I’m detective Posey and this is Detective Larsen.  We are glad you were able to come down to our station.  I understand you were quite tired and fell asleep on one of casino’s slot machines.”

I said, “Yes, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I have been having major problems getting any real sleep lately. Why am I here? Why was I brought down here?”

Detective Posey smiled at me and said, “We wanted to talk to you about Courtney Carswell. How well do you know her?”

Stupefied, I said, “I don’t know a Courtney.” 

“You don’t know a sexy lady who was wearing very short shorts and a blouse that pretty much showed off her breasts to the world?”

I looked at detective Posey in total confusion and said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The heavy set detective named, Larsen asked, “What were you mumbling about when we found you conked out on the casino’s slot machine?”

“I don’t have the slightest idea of what I was mumbling about. I was probably having one of my nightmares and I guess I talk in my sleep.”

Detective Posey leaned over the table and stared at my face like I was some sort of specimen and then said, “Looks like you have some scratches on your face.  How’d you get them?”

I thought for a moment and then replied, “I scratched myself when I was having this horrible nightmare earlier this morning.”

“You what? You sure some hot little lady didn’t do that while you were having sex with her?” Asked Posey.

I looked at her dumb founded and said nothing.

“She waited for my reply a bit longer and then said, “Look Mr. Fagan, we know you know her and you know we know, so let’s stop playing stupid games and tell us what you did to Courtney.”

“I really don’t have a clue about what you’re talking about.”

Detective Larsen said, “Let’s play a little video for you and maybe it will refresh your memory.”

 A video started playing on a TV hanging on the wall.  It showed me in the elevator earlier that morning. I was packed in there with a large group of people. It showed me standing behind a woman in short shorts. She was the woman who had pushed her butt right up against me when I was on the elevator. In the video, I was looking at her hair and then it showed her reaching out to me as she exited. I looked like a star struck idiot as she stepped out of the elevator.  When I exited, it showed me watching her walking away and slowly shaking my head and the word “wow” sort of forming on my lips. I was staring at her as she walked out onto the casino floor.  I looked like some sort of pervert as I licked my lips and finally turned away from where she had gone. The video showed me walking out on the floor and occasionally glancing back where she had disappeared into the crowd.

I looked at them and asked, “You think I had something to do with her? I looked at her, that’s it. What am I here for?”  I feared what they might tell me.

Larsen looked at me and said, “You raped and killed her that’s what we think you did.” A strange smile formed on his face.

I was stunned.  I felt the sweat running down under my armpits as this new living nightmare terrified me.  This situation made me feel more tired. I was so confused that I seriously wondered if this was simply a very lucid dream or a dream within a dream.  Maybe if I would yell I could wake myself up and find myself in front of a slot machine again.  But, I knew it was real. They thought I killed a woman who I saw maybe for 1 or 2 minutes.  They both sat there staring at me.

Finally Detective Larsen slammed his fist on the table and menacingly said, “Look you f*****g s**t, start talking or you’re going to wish you were dead also.”  

Good Cop Posey smiled and added, “Getting this murder off your back will make you feel better, I guarantee it.”

I looked directly at Detective Posey and exclaimed, “I never saw her again after she got off the elevator.  I didn’t do it.”

Larsen said, “Let’s play the video one more time, maybe it’ll help you remember.” 

He started it again and slowed it at a frame where I was moving my head closer to her hair and apparently smelling it. Suddenly I noticed a face that I’d missed before when they had played it at normal speed.  I said, “I know that man. I mean I know he’s the killer.” Then like an idiot I blurted out, “I dreamed about him choking and killing a person.  I swear that he’s the person who did it. He slapped her around, spit on her and then choked her to death.”

Larsen asked, “So this guy who is her boyfriend killed her? That’s what you are saying and you dreamed all of this and that’s how you know what happened?”  He suddenly stood up and shouted what the f**k is wrong with you. That man who you claimed killed her is an undercover cop checking out the prostitutes. She was a w***e. He was investigating her. So sorry, your bullshit story won’t cut it at all. Maybe you dreamed the wrong dream this time. “

While Larson was yelling at me my mind was wandering back to that dream where that face in the video was hovering above me. I closed my eyes and shut out Larsen’s yelling and focused on what I could remember about that dream.  “He’s not circumcised,” I blurted out.

They looked at me like I was some insane schizophrenic, but I knew I had something.  

You need to do your DNA testing and you will discover that it wasn’t me but who I told you it was. I want to see a lawyer now. I have answered all the questions I’m going to answer for you.  Arrest me or whatever you want to do, but I want a lawyer and I want to call my wife.

They both looked at me with obvious anger and distain, then they got up and walked towards the room’s exit.  Just as Detective Posey was walking out the door, she turned back to me and said, “I know the man you are claiming killed Courtney Carswell and I can tell you he isn’t a rapist or a murderer. He is a loving man, a great cop who wants to clean up Vegas’ prostitution and pimping problem. He’s a gentleman, and I wouldn’t toss out those foolish accusations about him unless you really can prove it.”

On the way to the holding cell they let me make a phone call to my wife. Luck failed me again, but I left her a short message and gave her the instructions of where to call. After that they moved me to a holding cell. The bed was a cot with a paper thin mattress. I was alone again. I lay their looking up at the concrete ceiling and probably was asleep in 10 minutes. I don’t know how long I was out, but suddenly I was experiencing another nightmare.  This time it was another vision of a man lashing out at me with his fist. He smashed his gloved hand into my face over and over. He was yelling something at me, but the words were blotted out by this constant hum that filled my head. The gloved hands were both dripping with blood and they would hesitate and then smash down again. I tried to block the blows, but my arms were paralyzed. It was one of those nightmares where you wanted to move, but you’re frozen to your bed. I was terrified because the man was the same man that had been in the nightmare when I witnessed Courtney Carswell’s murder.  I felt like I was suffocating. I was gasping for air. Suddenly something smashed up against his head and I saw I was in a bed room that looked similar to my hotel room. Then I saw a blood streaked knife coming at my face.

Someone was shaking me awake. A uniformed guard stood over me and told me I was yelling in my sleep and wouldn’t wake up. He said he had to slap me a couple times to get me to wake up.  I told the guard I had to talk to detective Posey or Larsen right away.  I’ve something important to tell them.

The Guard looked at me suspiciously and with little assurance in his voice said he’d try and contact them and give them my message. 

I paced my cell like a caged animal. I wanted out. I was still waiting for a return call from my wife. If Nicole heard from the police before I told her what happened, she’d be devastated.  She’d gone through so much with the accident she didn’t need to wonder if I’d now turned into a crazed killer.

I heard steps coming down the corridor and saw Larsen and the guard coming my way. The guard unlocked my cell door and Larsen stepped inside.  He stood by the bars and told me to get talking. He reminded me again of my rights to counsel etc He looked disgusted with me. I told him that the undercover cop that killed Courtney Carswell was at it again and he had either beat someone badly in my hotel bedroom or killed them.  He looked at me with anger. “You better have something more for me than that bullshit of what you see or don’t see.  I’m tired of your voices in your head telling us a bunch of crap. I’m going have you committed to the f*****g mental ward at Clark County Detention Center, if I hear more of this s**t from you.  Right now Detective Posey is with your murdering undercover cop searching your room.  I’m sure she will find the body you left in your room, if there’s one there. “

He asked the guard to let him out of my cell and while walking back down the corridor he suddenly stopped and pulled out his ringing cell phone.  He was talking to someone on the phone and then looked back at me watching him. He hesitated and then resumed his retreat up the corridor.

I got back on my concrete bed and stretched out. I hated to think about viewing more nightmares, but I was exhausted and needed sleep badly.    Quickly I was snoring and just as quick a nightmare crept back into my subconscious.  The raccoons were back and this time they were more menacing than ever.  The first vision that hit me was a large raccoon pouncing on my face biting into my flesh and tearing away a mouthful of bloody tissue.  He stepped back from me growling with blood dripping from his mouth. He snarled at the others raccoons as he examined the chunk of flesh he held in his paws. Then he’d tear off a smaller piece and nibble on it. Blood droplets shimmered on his twitching whiskers. Another large raccoon moved closer to my face. He bared his long incisors as he approached and then suddenly the raccoon who held the torn flesh from my face turned on the approaching raccoon and darted toward him. The other raccoons just watched these two giant raccoons settle their difference.  They both postured a bit and then the new raccoon slowly backed away. While he was doing that a small raccoon darted toward my face and reached his paw out towards me and I felt a yank and a tear as he pulled a part of my face away.  He quickly retreated as the larger raccoon lumbered back in front of me to protect his food. I realized then that I was stuck in their opening to the outside world.

I could clearly see the small raccoon investigating a golden object still attached to a severed piece of an ear. As he studied it I realized that it was a golden earring.  It looked like a gold earring I gave my wife for Christmas the year before.  As he chewed the flesh away from it I could see it more clearly. It was the same dragon fly earring I’d bought her.  My subconscious collided with my conscious mind as I realized that the person stuck in this opening was my wife.  I bolted awake and started yelling for help, but the yells of other inmates drowned out my cries as they shouted for me to shut up.  I yelled more, but was met with the same. My throat felt like it was on fire and my voice started to fail me.  Derision and taunts were yelled out at me as I tried to get the guards attention.

Suddenly my cell door swung open and three huge guards entered. They quickly penned me to the wall yelling at me to get control of myself.  I tried to tell them what was happening and begged them to help save my wife. They were there to calm me down.  I felt a prick in my arm and then I felt myself drifting away.

I entered back into my nightmare and found my view of the raccoons was much more limited. One eye seem to be blinded.  In the limited vision I watched as the largest raccoon move around frantically and then came snarling at me. I felt a paw push down on my good eye, a sharp tug and then the nightmare blinked out and there was only darkness.

A scream, my scream tore me out of the nightmare. My body felt numb as the vision of the Raccoons swirled about in my consciousness. I felt nauseous and my face burned like it was on fire. Suddenly I realized that I was still in jail and another scream of anger and frustration bellowed from within me.   The scream helped clear my head from the sedative they gave me.

In front of me was Detective Larsen. I could hear him saying “Mr. Fagan, Mr. Fagan can you hear me?”

I yelled back at him, “Yes, I hear you.”  I added, “My wife needs help. She is being ripped apart by Raccoons.”

Detective Larsen said quietly to me, “We called the Lumberton Police and Fire Department, but when they arrived at your home it was too late.”

“You mean Nicole is dead?”

“Yes, Mr. Fagan. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Another scream escaped my lips as that last nightmare vividly replayed in my mind.  It was so real that I felt I could actually feel the sting of teeth biting into my flesh and the burning pain as skin was ripped from my face. Why did this happen? And suddenly a collage of images rocketed through my mind and jolted my entire being.  I recalled from my last nightmare two dark moving objects behind the raccoons and suddenly I knew they were our two cats. That recognition flooded my mind with sinister recollections. Vague scenes flickered in and out of my memory. One appeared to be of hands holding some pliers and bending a nail so that it would work like a hook. Goosebumps popped out all over my arms and I felt a surge of something like electricity shoot down my spine. It came to me then that I had just seen my hands working to create a trap on our back deck that would snare whatever or whoever triggered it. It was a vague memory, but enough of it was there that I knew it was real and I also realized that I knew Nicole would stick her head in that hole in search of our cats. Again I felt nauseous realizing that I was sort of responsible for her death, but I never intended for her to die. She was just supposed to feel guilty for not coming with me. It was Detective Larson and Posey’s interference that caused her death. I would’ve called neighbors to check in on her and she would’ve been saved. They were the reason for her death.

 I think since my accident, any physical contact with a person, gave me control of their life during my nightmares. My darkest thoughts would become their reality. Courtney touching me made her a part of my alternative world playing center stage in one of my nightmares of sexual depravity. How my nightmare ends is out of my control. I just seed them with my thoughts and desires.  The evil hiding in the nightmares does the killing. Poor Posey, just another player on my stage of darkness. There is a bit of Hyde in all of us and mine lives happily in my nightmares. Posey sealed her fate when she touched me. I set the stage just by priming my mind with horrible visions that coalesce into my nightmare and their hell.

“Mr. Fagan, are you alright?”

I looked over at Det. Larsen and said, “Yes, I am.” I moved towards him and stumbled. Larsen’s hand shot out to steady me and I placed my hand on his and thanked him for his help. I promised myself that he would be the last.

Author's Note

I would be interested in any of your comments.

Reviews

[Pratik Mishra]

WOW! this is one thrilling story! I read it continuously! great work!