path illuminated by the bright beams. He moved slowly out of his room and creaked his way down the stairs. His uncle was a heavy sleeper, his snoring acted as an alarm system, if he could hear it then he was safe, if not….it meant his uncle was awake.
The kitchen was large, bigger than in real life. The dream had distorted several rooms and items within his mind, he was used to it. The handles, black in colour, poked from the top of the wooden block, one handle appeared larger than the others. He clasped his fingers around the item and slid it from it’s home. The knife had grown in length and width, it appeared more like a Machete than a basic kitchen knife. His dream had guided him this far, now he had to finish it. The high pitch noises arose from the stairs once again, the same places offered the same sounds. He stalked the landing, spying on his final destination. The door was slightly ajar, he watched as his uncle slept, his chest rising with every lung full, then deflating as the snorting sound escaped his mouth.
He edged the door open and tip toed his way into the room. His build was no aid in the intent of being stealthy, at fifteen stone and only twenty six, he was well toned and athletic, a must for his and the dark wolf’s plans. He managed to reach the bed, his heart racing with anticipation. He pulled back the quilt, his hand shaking with fear. He didn’t want to wake the man from his slumber, he would prefer a quick and easy kill, with as little mess as possible. The glowing moon helped brighten the room, the window directly above the bed. Russell looked up to the large ball of light, his heart slowed and hands steadied.
The first strike entered the chest and pierced the right lung, the blood bubbled as it mixed with the escaping air. His uncle awoke in shock. The knife was brought down again, this time slicing the throat just above the collar bone, his uncle fought wildly but a quick succession of stabs slowed him down. The weapon crashed down onto the body, chest, stomach, chest, neck, face. The blade snapped clean in two as it severed the jaw and became lodged between bone. He stepped back, watching the body twitch as the remaining life leaked from the multiple wounds. The bloody mess sprawled upon the sheets, the red liquid pooling under the carcass. Russell looked down upon his body, the arterial splashes scattered over his naked skin. He felt the rush, the pump of adrenalin soaring through his veins. He had done what was asked, what had been suggested to him by his dark traveller. He had removed the threat.
The reflection in the mirror seemed real, the water upon his face felt real, the blood that clung to his body was real. He hadn’t realised that the dream had ended. He was unaware of the exact time his darkest visions became real life. The shower was turned on and he climbed under the warm transparent liquid, his muscles relaxing under the heat. He had removed the threat, the threat was in his uncles room, the threat was lying in a blood ridden bed. He calmed his breathing, surprised at how well he had come to terms with the violent attack, his journey of transformation had begun, soon he would be what he longed to be………his invisible guest.
***
The familiar house stood to his front. Once again, he found himself on the pavement, his eyes looking toward the building. The darkness that had usually surrounded him was back, blacker than ever. It carried a heaviness to it, as though the night was engulfed with an invisible fog. His hands gripped the tools, a torch and wheel brace. The sensation of deja vu sunk in, he knew that he had been here before, the structure so familiar, the surroundings so exact. Within his mind he knew he was dreaming, but his attempts to pin point his location from memory failed. Why was this building, this moment in which he found himself on many sleepy occasions, so important? He didn’t know, it hurt his temple to think about it. He moved toward the house, this time he walked without the aid of floating. His feet crunched upon the gravel as he approached the front door. It was open, as normal. Upon entering he found one difference, the room he stood before was not the usual stairway into darkness. The walls displayed an enchanting scenery of green grass and blossoming trees. The colours were a mixture of tantalising effects, he couldn’t help but stare. The lights were bright but his eyes adapted quickly, the smell of bleach burned the inside of his nose as he entered the den. He scanned his surroundings, in one corner stood a camera balanced upon a tripod, he noticed the little LED flashing red. The room was empty apart from the seen things, he felt confused, puzzled as to the meaning of discovering the place. The lights were eliminated and he stood in absolute darkness. Several seconds passed and he attempted to use the torch, his arm was restrained, it wouldn’t move. His limbs had been secured, whilst the blackness swallowed him, someone or something had strapped him down. He panicked.
The lights boomed to life and stung his eyes, he wanted to rub them but couldn’t. He gazed upon the structure, the metal frame stood upright, his body secured to it. The wheels on the base made it easy to move him, he attempted to shake his prison, to tip it over and possible wriggle free. It failed. The howl caught his attention as the song began. It’s volume was low but it seized his movements, his eyes shot rapidly from left to right as he looked the source of the music. It gradually became louder, the room still empty. From the woods came a cracking sound, the painted trees became darker, as if a shadow had been cast upon them. He watched in fear, the shadow moving through the wooden giants. The music increased as the beast approached the edge of the wood line, Nathan caught its movement, stunned by the appearance from the painted wall. He watched it stalk the path, the long nose sniffing the array of scents. It froze; the smell caught its attention. Nathan wondered what it had found, what made it stop in its tracks. The fear filled its nostrils; the grey skin on the bridge of its nose began to crease as it inhaled wildly. The deep red eyes fixed upon Nathan, the teeth protruded from its mouth as it grinned at its prey.
The beast jumped back into the woods out of sight. Nathan squinted as he focused harder at the wall.
The slice to his chest shocked him, the wolf attacking from his blind side. The warm blood ran down his stomach and into his trousers. He looked down at the gaping wound, his guts bulging with pressure.
‘What the fuck!’ he bellowed as the pain shot through his body.
The second strike tore the skin on his right arm, the flesh peeled open to display his muscle fibres and bone. Once again, the pain chewed through him. He cried for help, his head thrashed from side to side. The warm breathe caught his ear and he swung his head to see the beast. It wasn’t there. The teeth ripped into his cheek as the jaws clenched against his face, the scream fell on deaf ears. He wanted to wake, the pain felt real. He told himself to awaken, the order not adhered to. The large yellow teeth sunk further into him, the jaw popped in his ear as it was dislocated. He screamed louder………………….
The lamp was activated as a shaking hand located the switch. The sweat dripped like a tap from his face, his hand stroked his cheek, the cover pulled back to check his stomach. He noticed the large wet patch under his legs, the palm of his hand placed upon it. It was damp, he moved the hand to his face and stopped as the strong stench of urine struck him. He had wet the bed, the first time since he was a child. He felt slightly ashamed at the loss of bowel control. The dream had sent a fear through him that his body had not felt for a long time. He recalled the last time he had experienced that type of scare, the blade entering his body and dicing his limbs. The images flooded his mind, the young boys found dead, the dungeon of bodies, the methods in which the killer used. The monster, six feet four inches tall, built like a brick shit house. The Golden Boy Killer.
He needed a shower, to freshen up his skin and awaken his mind. His dreams would not allow him to sleep, they stopped his body from energising its self. He still felt tired, more so due to the way his body had reacted to the dark vision. He washed away the remains of the bad dream, his face rough from the lack of shaving. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the accessories to trim his face, or that he didn’t have time……he just didn’t have the energy.
The yellow patch remained on the mattress, he pulled the soiled sheets from the bed and left them in a pile by the door, embarrassed at the thought of the cleaning lady retrieving them. He flipped the mattress over to the dry side, he hoped it was dry and hadn’t seeped all the way through. It hadn’t.
He pulled on some underwear and jogging pants, the top half remained naked so he could air himself. He noticed the digits on the bedside clock tick to
The typing upon the pages was small, so small that Nathan had to bring the page closer on several
