It was a terrible movie, like an old B-horror flick without an ending. Rachel’s subconscious was playing image after image of the distorted faces of her children. She was backed into a corner, cowering. She never cowered, but the sight of her children with black evil eyes and sneering faces caused every instinct she had to fight disappear. These were her offspring. They weren’t actually attacking her. Rachel brought herself to look again and saw the four faces of her children contort and twist into hideous snake-like forms, all spewing vile and venomous words at her.

"You’re destroying Daddy’s memory!"

"How dare you deceive us like this. You’re the traitor now, Mother!"

"You’re insane, Rachel. You think you can save the company? You’re tearing it apart."

"How dare you hand over Mac’s legacy to his enemy!"

It was all her fault really. All the words her children threw at her were justified. She did make a bargain with the devil. But not only that, she had fell in love with him, too. Rachel sunk lower and lower into her corner, covering her head with her hands in an effort of defense as her snake-faced children slithered closer.

"No! Stop! Carl, help!" The mention of his name drove the raging children on further. Rachel felt the splashes of burning words spearing her flesh as their hot breath circled her guarded head.

"He can’t save you now, Mother," they hissed, moving in for the kill. "He never wanted to save you, but you wouldn’t listen." Rachel muffled a cry, not even attempting to escape her fate. She braced, wanting for the attack she knew was coming, and began crying the only name she found comfort in.

"Carl, Carl…."

***

Carl’s eyes opened with a wince, adjusting to the dawn light that streaked through the Hell’s Kitchen walk-up. He was still coming out of sleep when the idea crossed him that he had heard his name. Rachel was asleep in the bedroom down the hall he guessed, so it must be his imagination. Yet something inside him made him walk to her door and peek inside. Rachel lay tossing in her bed, her face wet with sweat.

"Rachel, Rachel wake up," Carl said, running to her. "Rachel, Rachel." He shook her gently until she opened her eyes.

"Carl, Carl you’re here," she said looking at him, her statement bordering on hysteria.

"It’s all right, Rachel," he said, gathering her shaking body in his arms. "It’s fine now." In the warmth of his body, Rachel began to realize the horror of her dream was over. But instead of feeling relief, she felt awkward and ashamed.

"I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you." She pushed away perhaps a bit abruptly, and cast her eyes towards her knotted fingers.

"You didn’t wake me," Carl replied, careful to not change the tone of his voice, and letting his hand remain on her shoulder. "Rachel, you’re shaking."

"I’m fine, just a little cold."

"No, I think this is more than cold."

"It was just a nightmare, nothing I can really label. I’ll be okay."

Carl nodded in agreement, deciding to let the matter drop.

"So be it. Well, I think I’ll go make up the sofa," he said, rising to leave.

"Carl," Rachel said as he reached the door. He paused, resting his hand on the doorknob. "Stay for awhile. I don’t want to be alone."

"No one does, Rachel," he said, his hand falling from the knob.