The Nightmare

A short story of a man's dreams.

I feel my eyes dilate as they adjust to the growing darkness, the suffocating blackness everyone secretly fears. My hands are stretched far from my face, groping aimlessly in the darkness. My throat begins to close as panic builds, and my body tenses like a bowstring. There is no difference between my eyes being closed and open; not even a pinprick of light shows as I wander with heavy feet through the black shadows.

Suddenly I hear a whisper of a noise, like that of a final breath; I stop, eyes wide, straining to see anything. Without warning I feel myself falling, a terribly long fall, and my screams are swallowed by the surrounding emptiness. As I fall, the blackness begins to dissipate; it gradually gets lighter, and I begin to see shapes around me. I'm falling through a jagged, obsidian tunnel, or at least from what I can tell by how fast I'm falling. Just as I think this I slow, as though I'm being lowered down by a rope. Now falling at a steady pace I can see I was right about my obsidian guess, but am horrified  to see the walls nearly covered in all kinds of ghastly creatures and demons. They stare at me through small, slit eyes that seem to hunger for my flesh and very soul; their scaly, gnarled fingers reach out toward me. Just as I am about to scream from complete terror, my feet settle on solid ground and as they do the creatures and walls disappear.

In front of me is what appears to be the silhouette of a cloaked man. I try to call out, but no sound emits. The figure shifts, then I see two eyes, the eyes of a dragon.

"Come with me," the ghostly apparition beckons with a bony finger.

~ ~ ~ ~

I jump awake in a cold sweat screaming, "No! No! I won't"

I feel someone grab my shoulder, and as I begin to yank it off I hear a soothing voice say, "Oliver, Oliver, you're okay. It was just a dream. You're alright love."

"Aubrey."

I begin to calm as my wife strokes my sweat-soaked, black hair with her delicate fingers, and gently kisses my cheek with her small, plump lips.

"Oliver," I hear her say, "Are you alright? Did you have the nightmare again?"

The nightmare. The one I had been having every night for two weeks; started the same, ended the same and felt so real I woke in a panic every night.

My voice sounds strange and unknown to me as I reply, "Yes. The same one."

"Are you alright?" My beautiful Aubrey asks.

I look into her pretty hazel eyes, with her perfectly oval-shaped face, and long brunette hair that delicately placed itself over her shoulders; I decide I don't want to see worry come across that perfectly gorgeous face.

"Oh, yes. I am fine. Do not worry about me my sweet," although I feel far from okay.

"Why don't you lay back down hun," she says.

I numbly nod and mumble, "Yes."

I lie down, look into Aubrey's eyes and reluctantly fall asleep in her arms.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Not again! Oh please not again!"

The dream starts again, but this time I remember that I've had it before, and I am fully aware of where I am and what will happen. Then something happens that I don't expect, it starts at the end; there in front of me is the cloaked apparition that beckons me. This time though, it doesn't beckon me, only stares at me with its dreadful, dark eyes.

Then something happens that really shocks me and causes my mouth to go agape.

A voice emanates from the shadowed figure, and it's the voice of my wife Aubrey, "Oli! My darling, you've made it."

I stand, dumbfounded, "Au-Aubrey? Is...is that you?"

A cackling laugh makes my hair stand on end, and sends shivers spread down my spine.

"Oh yes, my love, 'tis I. Though not the dear Aubrey you may think you know." A second chortle echos from the apparition.

I continue to stand where I am, to confused to even begin to think of what to do.

Finally I find my voice, "But...I don't understand. How can this be?"

"Come with me," is the immediate response, as a scaly bony finger reaches out to me.

I stare at the clawed hand and, before I can stop myself, grab it. I suddenly find myself face-to-face with the snarling, all too human smile of a grotesque, reptilian face; the blood-red eyes gaze deep into mine and a long, black, forked tongue flicks in and out. I find myself paralyzed with fear as the creature opens its many-toothed snout, thinking it will surely rip my head off with its powerful jaws. Instead it deafens my ears with a thunderous roar that seems to last an hour, and when it ends my body crumples to the floor and I lie there exhausted. Above me is a black-scaled dragon with two protruding horns that curl forward and end to a deadly sharp end; but this dragon has the form of a man, standing on two long, muscled legs with clawed feet and two arms dangling by it's sides. The dragon creature beings to circle me, as though I were its prey; I yell in terror as it leaps on top of me, growling with a dreadful smile.

"Oh Oli dear, I expected better from you," the Aubrey-dragon rasped mockingly.

Gagged by the rotten stench of the beast and its weight crushing me, I barely get out, "What...the hell...are you?"

In a menacing growl it replies, "Oh, I am from hell Oliver. The deepest pit of hell is my home dear. You see love," the red eyes lean closer to mine and in a whisper I hear, "I am the Devil."

Tears begin to stream down my face as I feel the deepest despair I have ever known, and in this moment I know this is no dream. This was no ordinary nightmare, but another world , perhaps even hell itself. I feel impending doom crash upon me as I realize, there is no escape from the fate of the Devil.

"You ever wonder Oli," Satan begins, drawing me from my frantic thoughts, "Why I, or should I say Aubrey, tried so hard to calm you and lure you back to sleep? Oh, how I did love seeing you suffer, waking in absolute," licking my ear with her forked tongue she sweetly whispers, "terror. But alas, 'twas even sweeter seeing you suffer here, where you couldn't control anything and I could crush your courage in an instant!"

My heart races as I grasp the reality that this thing, this...Devil, was my Aubrey. My tears begin anew as I understand I married a demon.

"How? How did I fall in love with and marry...the Devil?" I meekly whisper.

The dragon's mouth opens wide and a deep laugh echoes through my bones, and shame rushes into my cheeks as I feel my crotch become wet.

In an unnaturally sweet, and mocking voice Satan coos, "Oh, you are a sweet thing aren't you? You see Oli dear...I'm everywhere. You cannot escape me. No one can. Although there are those few, such as you Oliver, that I especially love to just mess with." A small giggle erupts, a giggle that used to make me become warm and now sent shivers crawling up and down my spine.

"Why me?! How do I deserve this? I loved...I loved Aubrey."

But before I could finish the dragon snarled in my face, "I am Aubrey! You fool! I am the king of deceivers; I could make anyone fall in love with me." Then continuing in a more calm state, "I chose you because you are one of the few I could get away with. You see those Christians are everywhere, I can't touch them. But you, my dear Oliver are an atheist; I can get away with anything."

I blink, shocked at the reason; I didn't believe anything before, no higher power, no lower but now I believe and it scares me beyond belief.

I continue crying and pathetically sob, "Please...please have mercy."

"I am the Devil! King of the Underworld! Satan! I have no mercy!" The dragon roars.

Before I have time to react the Devil breathes in my face; I close my eyes tight and begin coughing uncontrollably. A feeling of dizziness overcomes me and my coughing ceases, gradually I open my eyes and gasp in shock as I find myself in a warm stream of sunlight, laying on my bed; and beside me, Aubrey.

I leap out of bed and scream as she looks up at me with tired eyes; her eyes widen and she sits up as I continue shrieking, "Devil! Devil!"

"Oliver? What is wrong with you?" She asks in a timid voice, shaking in fear.

But I ignore it; I ignore her and instead frantically run into the kitchen, grab a large meat knife and creep cautiously back to the bedroom.

I hear her call in a shaky voice, "Oliver?"

I continue to ignore her and slink into the room; Aubrey sees me, looks at my hand that's holding the knife, and looks to me with fearful, wide eyes. Big beautiful hazel eyes.

"Oliver!" She shrills.

Before she can say anything more I spit, "No! Devil! I will not be deceived any longer."

Then I leap on top of her, sinking the knife deep into her chest. She screeches and tries jerking away, but I hold her firm and stab her again. Blood sprays onto my face and stains my body as I repeatedly stab her in the neck, face, chest and stomach. After a few minutes of brutally stabbing Aubrey's twitching corpse and screaming "Devil", I begin to calm and fall back on the bed, dropping the knife. I then begin sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, my blood stained hands covering my blood splattered face.

A loud knock comes from the front door, and I do nothing as the door slams open and five armed police come in, guns pointed at me. I don't resist as they violently grab me and arrest me, all I do is mumble, "She was the Devil, I had to."

I hear them call in a psychiatrist, but only sit in the police car and watch as they carry a bloody and mutilated beyond recognition Aubrey into the ambulance. When the psychiatrist arrives he comes to me as though I am a normal human, not as though I just murdered my wife.

"Son, do you realize why I am here?" The short, fat man with spectacles asks.

I look up at him with blood-shot eyes and hoarsely reply, "Because I killed my wife and they think I'm crazy."

The man blinks in surprise, for I certainly sound sane, but only asks, "What was your reason for killing miss, eh, Aubrey?"

I look at my hands, study them for awhile then glance back at the portly psychiatrist and whisper, "I had to, she was the Devil. Satan."

The man clasps his hands and replies calmly, "Can you tell me why you believe this?"

I clench my jaw and stare into the man's eyes intensely, "She told me. I am not crazy."

The psychiatrist smiles slightly, "Of course not Mr. Oliver."

I frown and glower, "You don't believe me. Don't lie!"

Just come with me son," the psychiatrist carefully beckons.

I immediately tense and menacingly demand, "What? What did you say?"

"Come with me," the fat man beckons with a mistrustful hand.

"Devil! You will not trick me again!" I scream, and attack Satan with my bloodied fists.

Reviews

[Emma Rose]

Very thrilling and gripping. Just a personal opinion, but 'like that of the final breath of someone' sounds a little clumsy. Maybe 'like that of a final breath' sounds a bit cleaner.

[Caein]

Thank you! I agree, your suggestion sounds better.

[Caein]

Feel free to give your thoughts. Just please be constructive about it.