rising from the desert floor as if she’d been burned into existence just then by the relentless sun.
Nude and glistening with sweat, Jessica, curled up next to the beast, her hair a wild and tangled rat’s nest, eyes wide and smeared with swathes of thick black makeup, lips painted blood-red. Her hands slid back and forth with erotic precision along the leopard’s flank.
Jeff froze, heart racing. The leopard blinked slowly, watching him with regal indifference as a low growl emanated forth, majestic and violent.
The distant horizon began to shift and change, growing darker then darker still as the beginnings of a storm roiled and surged across the desert, kicking up great black clouds as if summoned straight from the bowels of Hell.
And somewhere in the turmoil, he heard Jessica laughing seductively.
The sound of voices woke him, luring him from sleep gradually. As Jeff drifted closer to consciousness he realized he was not in a desert but the relative safety of his own bed. Still, he was certain he’d heard voices. The bedroom windows were open, perhaps the intrusion had come from outside and could be blamed on inconsiderate passersby having a late-night conversation.
Still trying to sort out the thoughts filling his head, he reached for Eden. She was next to him, nude and asleep on her stomach, her back rising and falling in a slow and steady rhythm, bare skin damp with perspiration.
The apartment still smelled vaguely of dinner, and as the strange visions from his dream faded, Jeff felt himself smile.
Draping an arm across his forehead, he watched the darkness move gracefully, like water stirred by a gentle breeze. It seemed almost… alive.
He listened a moment. The voices had stopped.
Maybe I was still dreaming when I heard them.
Jeff closed his eyes and zeroed in on the downpour a while.
Through the soft hissing rain the voices returned, this time sounding like they’d been whispered from somewhere inside the apartment. He opened his eyes and looked to the door. It was open.
He brought his hand down to his face, rubbed his eyes and fought a losing battle to suppress a yawn. Once it passed, he drew quiet, shallow breaths and strained to listen. Nothing…
His head tingled, and the sensation quickly moved through him, as if his entire body had fallen asleep. Jeff blinked a few times and ran a hand over his chest. Like Eden, he was damp with perspiration.
He wiped his palm on the sheet and struggled up onto his elbows, propping himself into a semi-sitting position and focusing his vision as best he could.
Something shifted, separated from the darkness…something in the doorway. Or was it the door itself? Was it moving… closing?
Jeff squinted into the darkness. My glasses…
He knew they were on the nightstand where he’d left them, and his mind told him to reach over, pick them up then switch on the nightstand lamp, to call out and warn Eden that there was an intruder in the room, to jump from bed and confront whoever had broken into the apartment. But he couldn’t move. He tried to scream, but could only manage a choking sound.
The door swung partially closed, enough to reveal that someone had been standing behind it all along. An indistinct silhouette crept across the wall…
Foster Hope stood mere feet from the bed, glaring at him excitedly with the same yellow eyes the leopard had possessed in Jeff’s dream.
But before he could fully comprehend what he was seeing, the old man’s eyes turned black and cold and his lips quivered into a hideously demonic grin. A tongue, impossibly long and black, darted from his mouth like a snake, slithering about as if for purchase.
I’m dreaming, I-this is a nightmare, just a nightmare-I’m dreaming .
Hope’s liver-spotted hands reached out through the shadows, the fingernails long and curved, shiny white talons of bone piercing darkness.
The razor-sharp tips dripped what could only be blood, and it wasn’t until he moved even closer that Jeff realized Hope, like them, was completely nude. But something had wrapped itself around the lower portion of the old man’s body and was clinging to his pallid legs. Something alive and moist, coiled about his knees and thighs, writhing and pulsing like some slimy creature, perhaps a skinned human appendage or a thick serpent-like entity with a network of spider-web veins traversing a mass the color of raw meat.
Hopelessly paralyzed, Jeff watched with horror as the man glided toward the side of the bed. Eden’s side. Struggling, Jeff tried to scream, but his throat constricted and felt as if someone was strangling him. Though he couldn’t see them, he felt the unmistakable grip of cold ghostly hands wrap around his throat and tighten like a vise. Familiar hands…feminine hands…
Others had joined them. But were they… people?
They moved swiftly beneath the cover of shadow, hurrying about beyond the bedroom doorway and throughout the apartment.
This is a dream, a – a nightmare -
“There are no nightmares,” the old man said, flickering tongue slurring his speech. “There is only the torment of darkness.”
Eyes wide, Jeff’s body bucked and convulsed against strangulation as spittle bubbled in a thick froth from his mouth.
The bed shifted. Small shadowy forms scurried up over the foot of the bed, growling and clawing at the lone sheet until it fell away and Foster Hope reached for Eden’s exposed flesh.
Deep guttural laughter filled the room, and Jeff’s mind splintered as he spiraled down into a boundless darkness the likes of which he’d never before experienced.
Madness, it seemed, had swallowed him whole.
6
Though he’d been more or less awake for several minutes, Jeff remained in bed, flat on his back, the sheet tangled around him like a toga. Despite the early hour the humidity was already high and hung over the room like a shroud. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so late. Sluggishly, he studied a series of hairline cracks in the bedroom ceiling a while. Distanced from his nightmares, they no longer held much power over him, but their memory remained vivid in his mind. Remnants of a headache scraped at his temples then faded as he turned his attention to the gliding motion of an oscillating fan on the bureau.
The sound of Eden’s heels clacking against the floor preceded her, and as she swept into the room with an enthusiasm and glee she hadn’t shown in a very long time, Jeff caught a whiff of her cologne. It was quickly dissipated by the fan. Makeup done and hair styled, she was dressed in a skirt and blouse and ready for work. “It’s alive!” she chuckled. “You were out cold and snoring so loud at one point the whole room was shaking.”
“A little too much wine, I guess.”
“You were having bad dreams too, you kept moaning in your sleep.”
“Yeah, had some strange ones last night.” He sat up and swung his legs around to the floor. “What time is it?”
“Little after eight.”
He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and snatched his glasses from the nightstand with the other. “Can’t remember the last time I slept this late.”
“Enjoy it while you can, you’ll be back in the rat race soon.”
She leaned close, and they kissed. “Gotta run.”
Jeff slid his glasses on. “See you tonight. Have a good day, baby.”
“Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She stopped at the door and looked back at him. “Jeff, I…I’m sorry things have been so tense these last few
