Trance (31-40)


                             
     31.

     Kirk waited breathlessly in front of Stephen's house.
He thought about his experience with the Dream Demons, and
how he would approach Stephen to ask for help.  It would not
be easy, but the future of the Nocturnal Underground
depended on it.  He looked at the front door, took a deep
breath, and knocked on the door.
     Stephen answered, and started to ask Kirk what he was
doing here when Allison appeared at the doorway.
     "Before you start, Allison, please give me a few
minutes to explain." Kirk said.
     Kirk entered the living room and sat on a chair
opposite Stephen and Allison.
     He looked around the room for a few moments and then
began:
     "I'm sure Stephen explained his first experience with
the Dream World.  You don't seem to be impressed with his
new scar, I might add. But, I've come here to ask for your
help."
     Allison glared at Kirk as she began to sit up.  She
looked about ready to storm out of the room.  Kirk glanced
furtively at Stephen.  Stephen and Allison exchanged
glances, as if sharing a moment telepathically.  Kirk waited
for a few moments before continuing:
     "The world you know as reality is just the tip of the
iceberg... it is the first chapter in the story of universes
upon universes."
     Allison's eyes burned with rage as Kirk spoke.  She bit
her lip nervously, and she had to bite her tongue to stop
from interrupting.  Stephen looked very uncomfortable at
that point; feeling like he should be wearing a black and
white striped shirt.  He looked as puzzled as Allison looked
angry.
     "What does this have to with us?" Allison asked.
     "That's a good question... sure I had some kind of
weird dream where I saw Allison being killed.  But what does
that have to do with reality?  You expect us to believe that
I experienced another universe?  Why me, Kirk?  Why Allison?
To be blunt, this shit is seriously messed up."  Stephen
added.
     Kirk was slightly taken aback by Stephen's anger, but
understood his frustration.  When Kirk was first introduced
to the Dream Master, he felt the same way - confused and
angry - like everything he knew as reality was just an
illusion.  The metaphysical carpet pulled from beneath his
feet.
     "The best way to explain is to demonstrate again.  But
first I need to warn you about the dangers.  Certain worlds
are not meant for human contact - they are primordial hells
that are filled with creatures from another plane.  Dream
Demons, if you will.  I'm not going to say that if you die
in the dream you die for real.  That would be silly.
     However, if your soul is destroyed in the dream world,
you body will become a useless shell.  Like a candle without
the flame or the wick."
     "Wait a minute... I'm starting to remember something...
" Allison began.
     "I remember flying around a vacuum, and trying to
figure out how the hell to get around.  It was like those
flying dreams that everyone has had... but about a thousand
times more vivid.  There were worlds upon worlds. Then I
found myself floating above Stephen's house.  Was that real?
Was my soul flying around Maple Street?"  She asked.
     Stephen leaned forward as Allison asked this question,
as he nervously anticipated the answer.
     "Yes, it is reality.  The dimensions have crossed, I
guess you could say.  Your astral body was flying through
reality.  How this actually all works is kind of a mystery.
My Dream Master could explain it better than I can."
     "Your Dream Master?  What is that... some kind of
spirit guide?" Stephen asked.
     "You could say that, Stephen.  He's my spiritual guru.
I think he exists solely in the dream world.  That's why I
need your help.  Creatures attacked him in one of the dream
dimensions.  Maybe if we combine our Ka we have a better
chance of somehow defeating them."
     "Ka?  What's that?  A person's soul?" Allison asked.
     "Yes...  the life-force that flows through every
creature.  The energy that lives after the body expires, and
the sprit that travels when the body rests.  We must combine
our Ka and seek out other traveler's in the dream world.  We
all are water within the mass ocean of our consciousness.
First, I must take you to the Dream Master."
     Some of Allison's anger had seeped out of her at this
point, but her brows still furrowed with worry - small lines
appearing on her forehead as she mulled over what Kirk had
been saying.
     "What are these Dream Demons, anyway?  Why are they so
dangerous?  Where do they come from?"  Allison asked.
     "They are every evil thought, every nightmare given
substance.  Dream souls that have been corrupted, and seek
to pollute all of the dream realms.  The most horrifying
thing is that they are now crossing over..."
     "My God," Allison whispered.
     "Yes... they have become so powerful that they have
broken the bounds of the dream reality, and can now
influence ours."
     Everyone was quiet for a few moments, letting
everything that had been shared sink in.  Kirk's nerves
jangled nervously, crackling with anticipation of the battle
ahead.    A million scenarios ran through his head, but only
two outcomes.  One, victory - no matter how temporary that
may be, or defeat and the end of consciousness as we know
it.
     "My brain hurts, man.  I can't believe that what we
accept as reality is only the beginning.  Dream Demons,
shared thought, infinite dream worlds.  Jesus, how can
someone stay sane knowing what lays beyond our world while
we sleep?"
     "I know that I've told you is very difficult to accept,
Stephen.  But it is imperative that we act now.  If these
creatures destroy the Dream Master, all hope will be lost.
What we accept as reality will become a living hell as the
dark consciousness drifts over us as a dark cloud.  Anger
will be the new currency, and compassion will die."  Kirk
said.
     Allison looked over at Kirk.  She was no longer
glaring, but looked at him with a mixture of awe and
suspicion.
     An uncomfortable silence pervaded the room.
     "Allison, can we go through with this?  There's no way
to know how this is all going to end."  Stephen asked.
     Allison bit her lower lip nervously, and answered:
     "Yes...  together we will defeat these things.
Otherwise, maybe the battle is over before it's been
fought."
     "Ok.... We are short on time but must be prepared.
Your training will begin tomorrow.  I want to thank you guys
for your help.  We must succeed..." Kirk said.
     Kirk then stood up, looked around the room one last
time, and then walked out.

                              
                             32.
     The hospital janitor opened the closet.  He glanced
over the shelves of cleaning products in the maintenance
section, and began stocking his cart.  He grabbed a few
rolls of paper towels and a small stack of black garbage
bags.  The fluorescent lights above his head reflected off
of the black plastic.  He yawned and rubbed his eyes, as he
had just woken up for the beginning of his graveyard shift.
     With his cart well stocked, he proceeded down the
hallway.  The green-tiled floor reflected the lights above,
the strong smell of antiseptic making his nostrils twitch.
The constant murmur of activity in the hospital had dulled a
little, but occasional snippets of activity could be heard.
As he walked down the hall, he heard the distant breathing
of respirators, and the incessant beeping of heart monitors
- clicking off the heartbeats like a clockk clicking off
seconds.
     Doctor Smythe walked by the janitor, and nodded his
head slightly.  "Hey, James.  How's life been treating you?"
he said.
     "Not bad, Dr. Same old shit as usual.  Can't really
complain."
     "Have a good night then."
     "You too."
     With that Dr. Smythe entered the lounge, and winced at
the smell of stale coffee, and donuts just a few days past
prime.
     James began the task of cleaning the rooms.  The first
room was occupied by a middle-aged man whose snoring sounded
like the deep rumbling mating call of a whale.  The man
shifted restlessly in his sleep.  The patient beside him was
tossing and turning fitfully as he winced in pain -
squeezing his eyes together with each motion.
     James started with the floor.  The mop had seen better
days - the strings a tangled mass of what looked like gray
witch's hair.  James lifted the mop from the cart and
twirled the mop over the floor after dipping it in the small
water bucket on the cart.
     The man upon the bed began moaning something.  James
stopped mopping the floor for a moment, to listen more
closely.  He couldn't quite make out the words.  The man
moaned again... and this time James could hear what the man
was moaning:
     "They're... everywhere... my God they won't stop
screaming... help me..."
     The man began to shake.  His arms trembled fitfully as
his body twisted and turned from side to side.  The moaning
had subsided, but his face wrinkled in pain and terror.
James moved closer to the man to make sure he was still
breathing.  That was when James saw the blood flowing out of
the man's nose.  It started as a small driblet, but began to
gain force, becoming a small stream.
     James quickly pressed the alert button by the man's
bedside... the man began twitching violently again.  His
mouth moved in a silent whisper, but no words came out.  He
shook his head back and forth, and began flailing his arms
wildly.
     The nurse arrived a few minutes later.  The man was now
still... the twitching replaced by shallow breathing.
     "What happened? " she asked.
     "I don't know... I was here washing the floor, and he
suddenly starting moaning in his sleep. Then he started
shaking.  I buzzed you when his nose starting bleeding."
     The nurse dabbed the man's nose with gauze - the blood
staining it first a bright crimson and then a pale pink.
     "Isn't this the man they brought in last night?  The
one screaming about something biting him?"
     James glanced down at the man's hand, and noticed it
was heavily bandaged.  Some of the fingers were missing.
James also noticed a thick scab running up the man's left
arm.
     "Yes, it is.  The guy's delusional.  All week he's been
moaning about something attacking him. I hear him as I walk
by his room on my rounds.
     Anyway... I've got to get back to my desk.  Have a good
night, James."
     "Yeah... you too."
     The nurse turned and walked away.

                            * * *
     Around one in the morning, James sat in the lounge
munching on a glazed donut, and reading the newspaper.  He
sipped weak coffee that even with several packs of sugar
tasted like crap.  As James chewed, he thought about this
evening's events.
     The nurse didn't seem too concerned with the guy's
behavior - dismissing the guy's ranting as the ramblings of
a nutcase.  But James could not shake the feeling that there
was more to the story.  The guy was so terrified as he lay
upon the bed, shaking with fear like a child suffering night
terrors.  James yawned, stretched, and began to psyche
himself up to go back to work.
     That was when he spotted the article that sent cold
blood through his veins:
     "MAN FOUND IN COMA IN SMALL APARTMENT" the headline
read.
     James took a few moments to read further:
     "...Doctors are stumped as to what caused the coma.
The man was found in his bed, his skin a pale white.
Doctors have run the full gamut of tests but at this point
cannot find the cause. There was no sign of head injury, and
toxicology results have all come back negative.  Dr. Ezra of
Central Memorial is quoted as saying:
     `We've run all sorts of tests, but everything has come
back negative.  The cause of the coma is undetermined at
this point.  I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this
eventually.  It is a strange case, I'll admit.'
     This case becomes even stranger in light of the fact
that this is the fourth such case in the past month..."
     James closed the newspaper, and shook off the
goosebumps dotting his arms.
     He tossed the wax paper on the table and the used
coffee cup into the trash. He exited the breakroom and
grabbed a few bottles of Windex from a small storage closet
across the hall.
     James started cleaning the bathroom a few doors down
from the closet.  The cart's wheels squeaked as he pushed it
further into the washroom.  The scent of stale urine
assaulted James nostrils... a smell he could never get used
to.
     As James wiped the mirror, he thought he saw something
out of the corner of his eye.  He turned around, and nothing
was there.  James shrugged, and continued with the mirror.
There it was again.  A small shadow on the door of the
bathroom stall across from the mirror.  He swore he could
see it creep down the door towards the floor.
     James froze as the shadow flowed down to the floor and
towards him.   Suddenly, it was upon him.
     James shrieked as it crept up his body, burning his
skin as if it were an acid.  James howled as it flowed up
his chest towards his face.  It flowed into his eyes, the
inky blackness entering his tear ducts.
     More blackness flowed over his mouth, sealing his lips
together into a silent scream.
     His hands flailed at his face, desperately swatting at
the shadow.  Blackness began to cloud James's vision as he
collapsed in a heap on the cold floor.  He twitched once,
and then was still.
                              
                             33.
     After Kirk had left, Stephen and Allison sat in silence
for a few moments.  They seemed to be digesting what he had
said, and the meal was not going down well.  Allison turned
the television back on, and pretended to be interested in
some sensationalistic talk show.  Stephen got up and went to
the kitchen.  He opened the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of
Coke.  He poured himself a glass, and walked shakily back to
the living room.
     "Are we ready for this?" he asked.
     Allison paused for a few moments, then answered:
     "Yes.. I think we are.  If what Kirk is saying is true,
it's the only hope we have."
     The talk show continued... some craziness where a
typical no-brain redneck had ended up in bed with his
babysitter.  The wife was backstage, fuming as she heard the
words of his confession.  She looked like a cat arching its
back before pouncing on a mouse.
     Allison hmpphed at the insanity of this, and said:
     "And we think we have problems!"
     Stephen and Allison broke into laughter at this point,
and it eased some of the tension.

     The next day at school, Stephen was trying in vain to
concentrate on English, but could not.  He spent the class
in a daze - feeling like a zombie.  Every few moments
blackness crept over his vision, as his nerves jittered and
jangled.  Stephen felt his head sink towards his desk as his
eyes began to close.
     Stephen heard a slight ringing in his right ear, as
disjointed voices whispered through his head.  He felt a
sudden whoosh of wind as he coasted upwards.  His speed
increased, as he zipped towards a slight gray discoloration
in the dream curtain.
     Stephen drifted faster still, his stomach plummeting as
he sailed downward towards a gray patch of shadow.
     In the distance, he could hear high-pitched screaming
and squealing - like guitar feedback from Hell.
     Lightning flashed through the void, lighting the
background like strobes off of a black canvas.  In the
distance, Stephen could see a ball of light.  It sped
towards him, buzzing softly with crackling electricity.  It
began to expand, and from the sides Stephen could see two
fuzzy arms.  They began to gather mass, forming solid
structure.  Next, out popped a head, like a turtle upon
waking.  Legs appeared below the mass of light, as it
gradually began to change color.  Flesh formed where light
existed.  The face began to take shape.  A nose rose out of
the mass like dough rising, and ears surfaced from the side
of the head.  Stephen began to recognize the features.  It
was Kirk - in all his smiling glory.
     Thoughts cracked through Stephen's brain as he looked
upon Kirk's body.  Stephen looked down at his own body, and
saw nothing.  It was if he did not exist.
     "Will yourself to change," Kirk commanded.
     Stephen squeezed his eyes together, and pictured his
body as liquid flowing down a waterfall, malleable metal
within a factory. Stephen's arm stretched into the distance,
as his legs began to lengthen.  Stephen felt his neck
elongate, and looked down at his body again.  Instead of
nothingness, Stephen now looked like the Stretch Johnson toy
he had played with as a child - arms and limbs expanding
when pulled like soft toffee.
     "Now for the next part... we need Allison's help for
this one," Kirk said.

     Kirk closed his eyes, and formed a message in his
brain.  He could visualize the paper, the words written upon
it in bluish ink.  He imagined placing the message into a
small glass tube.  Then, he pictured the tube being shot
through space, flying to the edge of the darkness, and then
disappearing.

                            * * *
     Allison was in the middle of a math test in Mr.
Laburg's class when she suddenly felt sick.  Her arms
started shaking, and she felt a twitching nausea in the pit
of her stomach.  She tried to fight off the feeling, and it
subsided for a few moments.  She continued with the test,
and the feeling came back.  Stronger this time.  She stood
up from her desk, and shakily walked over to the teacher's
desk.
     "I... I'm feeling sick," She whispered.
     Mr. Laburg excused her, and suggested Allison go to the
infirmary.  The teacher asked a student to walk her to the
office, just in case she collapsed.
     Allison walked down the hallway, as her vision began to
blur.  The colorful lockers on either side of her drifted in
and out as if the school was flooded floor to ceiling.
After a few minutes, Allison lay upon the small cot in the
back of the office.  The other student walked back to class.
     The nurse then asked Allison how she was feeling.
     Allison heard the next few words, but little else. The
world disappeared in a veil of blackness.  In the distance,
Allison could hear soft whispers.  She suddenly felt her
legs begin to shake, and her body becoming very light.  She
felt herself drifting upwards into the blackness, her
stomach twinging slightly.
     Her body then began to twirl and spin slowly. Allison's
stomach lurched a bit at this point.  The volume of the
whispers increased, and began to form disjointed words in
her brain. They began to form in front of her in globs of
gooey light.  It became more substantial, and she was able
to make out the words:
     "Meet us in the plane directly ahead.  Look for the
gray spot as a marker."
Allison concentrated hard on the blackness, but could not
see any grayish areas.  Just as she was about to give up
hope, she spotted it.  A small gray area to her left.  She
drifted towards the spot, and could see two bodies in the
distance.  One seemed to be about fifteen feet tall, arms
and legs stretched to ridiculous proportions.
     She drifted closer, and could then recognize Stephen
and Kirk.
     Stephen's legs contracted back into his body, and then
his arms began to slowly flow to his shoulders.  He was
officially no longer a circus freak.
     "Welcome to our playground, Allison.  Shall we begin?"
Kirk asked.
                              
                             34.
     The Dream Master scanned the forest.  In the distance,
he could hear birds singing, and further off could hear the
soft rumbling of thunder.  His hummingbird heartbeat had
returned pretty much to normal, but he was still shaky after
the incident with the Dream Demons.  He had not felt such
power before, such insidious evil within any being he had
come across in the dream plane.
     The master slowed his breathing, and felt his heartbeat
continue to slow down.  A blanket of peace and tranquility
began to absorb his nervousness.  The dream master closed
his eyes, and concentrated on his dream mantra.  A solid
point of light within the blackness of his consciousness,
that served as his spiritual equilibrium.
     The light encompassed his being, and the master could
feel an all-powerful calm envelop his mind.  His nerves
ceased their restless quaking, as a perfect flatline of
relaxation blanketed his brain.
     The master continued the meditation for several
minutes, feeling his soul drift through the planes as
effortlessly as a shark through an ocean.  Traveling solely
on instinct, he came upon a desert vista.
     Sand billowed slowly around his feet, and drifted down
around his toes.  The intense heat was like a living being,
blasting the master's skin with sauna-like warmth.  The sand
dunes stretched out into the distance, the clear blue sky
cleaving the world in two.
     The master could see three sets of footprints in the
distance.  The trail led eastward, and the master began
walking.
     After several miles, the master came to the spot where
the footprints ended.  The master sat upon the warm sand,
and waited.
     The sand began to shift restlessly, and a dark form
began to rise up.  Slowly, the figure moved upward, as the
sand drifted off the body.  The figure began to take shape,
as the face was revealed.
     Next, another figure rose.  The body expanded upward,
and the sand flowed down the body as water down a waterfall.
A third figure rose from the sand, the grains rustling
against the skin as they drifted downward into the dune
below.
     Three figures stood before the master.  One was
recognizable as Kirk; the other two were not.
     "Kirk... I am pleased to see you again.  Before you
ask, I am feeling a little better.  Meditation has proven to
refuel my spirit,"  The master said.
     Stephen and Allison stared in wonder at the robed
figure in front of them.  His face seemed to be as old as
time itself, and was a mass of wrinkles and lines. The man's
body was frail with age, but within his eyes burned a fire
that was inspiring.  A deep powerful presence could be felt
as the master rose from his sand seat.
     Grains flew off of the master's robe, and he brushed
more sand off as he stood.
     Stephen was the first to speak:
     "First of all, we are honored to meet you.  Kirk
mentioned that you needed help, and here we are."
     The master smiled warmly.  His eyes shone with a
brilliant white fire.
     "Master, this is Stephen and his friend Allison.  We
have begun the training, and need to proceed to the next
level."
     The master contemplated for a few moments, as his
forehead wrinkled in concentration.
     "Excellent.  I am pleased to meet you as well.  Did
Kirk express how dire our circumstances have become?"
     "Yes, he did.  We are willing to do anything to help."
Allison answered.
     The wind picked up slightly at this point, and Stephen
shielded his eyes from the flying bits of sand.
     "Your training has already begun.  But you will find
that the dream world is much like an iceberg within a still
ocean - most of the truth lies below the surface.  It is my
role to help you dive into the water, and seek the truth."
     Kirk added with a smirk:
     "Let's all hope we don't drown!"
     Everyone burst into unexpected laughter at this point,
and some of the tension subsided.
     "Exactly, Kirk.  This is clearly a sink or swim
situation.  In order to succeed, we all will need to swim
faster and harder than we thought possible."
     Stephen and Allison turned to each other, and prepared
themselves for the task ahead.
     Kirk's all-knowing smirk became a look of deep concern.
                              
                             35.
     James could not open his eyes.  The world around him
was solid blackness, and when he commanded his eyes to open,
they would not obey.  He willed himself to try again, his
mind beginning to panic.  No response.  He then tried moving
his arms and legs.  Again, no response.
     James looked around at his surroundings, and could see
nothing but solid black.  An infinite oilslick, dark as the
deepest eternal night.  Panic was now beginning to set in.
His mind jibbered at him incessantly, his brain jangling
with noisy disjointed thought.
     James continued to struggle to move his body, but gave
up after a few more futile attempts.  Where the hell am I?
He thought.
     In the distance, he could hear the sound of screaming.
It began to increase in volume, and James's dream nose
wrinkled in disgust as the sickening scent of ammonia filled
the air.  The blackness began to pulse and waver in sync
with the shrieking.
     A dark figure swooped by James' head, a liquid shadow
that was a vague, amorphous form.  It began to solidify into
something that looked like a bat, but the features were
twisted.  The eyes were wide; the nose a mess of wrinkled
flesh.  The worst was the mouth, it was wide and filled with
razorteeth.  They glistened with fresh blood and saliva.
     The creature was joined by others.  Masses of congealed
Jell-O the color of dark dark blood.  Giant jellyfish that
glowed bright pink and smelled like ammonia joined the group
above him.
     James was in full panic mode at this point, and if his
lips could move they would be wide in a scream.  James
desperately attempted to move his body, but to no avail.  He
was frozen within the void, like a piece of fruit sealed
within Jell-O.
     More creatures appeared, all screeching like the hounds
of hell.  The smell permeated the air, the scent of rotten
flesh and coppery blood.
     The creatures seemed to ignore him for now, as they
gathered directly above his head.  The screeching subsided,
and the creatures huddled together as if communicating.
     James's mind continued to jibber and jabber in panic.
The first creature dove at him...
     As it swooped down, James could feel the rush of air
against his face.  The creature flew threw James body, and
it brought pain.  Horrible intolerable mind-numbing pain
eclipsing anything he had felt.  James' brain screamed in
horror, but his consciousness did not wink out.  It felt
like hunks of flesh were being torn from his body, as each
nerve jumped in unison.
     The jellyfish was next.  Giant slimy tentacles that
dripped some foul-smelling liquid began to sting him. His
arms.  His face.  His legs.  The pain was intense - it shot
through his mind like lightening through a cloud.
     A black formless blob then drifted over James's head.
Every fiber of his being screamed in pain, and he felt his
skin begin to sizzle.  He could hear the sound; it was like
bacon popping as it fried.
     James felt his dream body begin to change.  The process
was gradual at first.  It began with his arms.  They
collapsed into his body, and flattened.  His legs became
liquid, flesh becoming as malleable as molten metal.  They
flowed down into the darkness below, leaving only bloody
smoking stumps.
     The smoke cleared, and James looked down in horror at
his body.  The change continued...
     His skin began to blacken - the color changing from
flesh to burnt paper.
     The pain was intolerable - James felt as if he was
being stung repeatedly by millions of wasps.  His mind
hummed with the shock of the torture as his last conscious
thought began to wink out.
     James's eyes burst with a pop like grapes in a
microwave, and streams of blood dripped slowly down his
face.  James's nose began to shrink and distort, the flesh
burning as it melded with his head.
     His arms began to flatten out and sprout sharp talons
the color of midnight.
     Rivers of hot black liquid flowed over James's body,
turning his skin into black leather.  His head began to
shrink just as he felt his ears melt.  They dripped off his
face in hot trails.
     Pointed ears sprouted from his head, as his teeth began
to collapse back into his gums.  His mouth filled with blood
as new teeth raised back through the pink tissue, the fangs
razor-sharp and cutting into his tongue.
     His constant screaming suddenly increased in pitch to a
shriek.   His batwings flapped as James drifted towards the
rest of the group.
     More creatures appeared - some like black slicks of
protoplasm.  The shrieking filled the air as the gathering
grew.
     Every atom of James's soul screamed with rage, as the
words of the hive-mind filled his brain.
                              
                             36.
     The hospital room was dark and smelled of despair.  The
man upon the bed was still, a human statue.  The heart
monitor beeped like a metronome and the respirator ka-
chunked noisily.  She sat in a chair across from him
absently flipping through an old magazine.  Her face was
streaked with fresh tracks of tears as she sniffled
constantly.  She grabbed a tissue from the bedside, and
wiped her nose.
     The green lines on the monitor rose and fell, the
beeping marking off the seconds.  Time seemed to stretch out
to eternity - each minute the same as the last.  She sat and
stared at her husband, as a thousand fears surfaced in the
sea of her mind.  She raised the blinds slightly and peered
out the window, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.
     Her young son sat on the empty bed beside James, his
face a mixture of fear and sadness.  Tears had streaked his
face as well.  He would not take his eyes off of his dad.
It was like he expected him to wake any moment.
     "Mom?" David asked.
     "Yes, little buddy?"
     "When is daddy going to wake up?  He's been sleeping
for over a day now... he must be awful tired."
     Sarah smiled as David's six-year-old mind tried
desperately to get a feel for the situation.  In David's
mind, his father was simply sleeping... he would wake soon
after he was done resting.
     Sarah waited a few moments before answering, carefully
wording her response so as not to break her son's heart:
     "I'm sure he'll wake up soon.  Like you said, he is
just tired."
     David's eyes flashed with confusion at this point as he
looked upon the heart monitor and respirator.
     "Then why the machines and stuff?  Why is there a tube
in his throat?  And the thing beside his bed... why is that
tube stuck in his hand?"
     She paused again, walking on eggshells for the sake of
her son's sanity.
     "Daddy needs the machines to get better.  He's feeling
sick, and that's why he's sleeping so much."
     David jumped down from the bed, and walked over to his
mom.  He wrapped his arms around her neck, and gave her a
great big hug.  Sarah could feel his body tremble and quake
with fear.  In his eyes she could see a mixture of terror
and concern that was heartbreaking.
     "Mom... I'm scared... what if he never wakes up?"
     She locked eyes with him.  "Dave... please don't say
that.  He's going to wake up soon.  You guys have a baseball
game to go to, remember?"
     A slight smile crept over Dave's lips.  "Oh yeah... I
forgot.  He should be better by then, right?  It's next
Monday!"
     "I hope so, buddy.  I hope so."
     David seemed to be satisfied by her responses, and
hopped back on the bed.  His eyes would not leave his
father's body.  He stared intently at him, as if willing him
to wake up.
     Sarah's mind drifted as she stared out the window
again.  She thought back to when the hospital called her
that her husband was in a coma...
     She had just closed the oven door after placing two
McCain frozen pizzas inside.  A ham and pineapple for her,
pepperoni and cheese for David.  She sat down at the kitchen
table, and starting reading a newspaper.  She glanced over
the news - the continuing shitstorm in Iraq was still going
on, and threatened to spread to other countries in the area.
A local homicide of a homeless drunk was still unsolved -
his frozen body found in a dumpster a week and a half ago.
The NHL players were still on strike, unable to bridge the
gap between players and owners.  It was all about money,
obviously - everyone wanted the biggest piece of cake.  But
everyone was beginning to starve, as they couldn't agree on
a solution.
     She flipped absently through the paper, and James
bounded down the stairs with a smile on his face.  He beamed
as he walked over to his mom with arms outstretched.  He
hugged her tightly and grinned from ear to ear.
     "What's for supper, Mom?" he asked.
     "Pizza, little dude.  Your favorite... pep and cheese."
     "Mmmmm... cool.  Thanks mom!
     I'm building a dinosaur, Mommy!  It's gonna be a Tee
Rex!"
     "Sounds cool, buddy.  Supper should be ready in about
20 minutes."
     David nodded and then bounded back up the stairs as if
his Lego couldn't wait more than a few minutes.  Sarah
smiled as she heard him pour several hundred pieces onto his
bedroom floor.  She heard the pieces clacking against each
other as he searched the pile for just the right piece.
     She continued scanning the newspaper, the smell of the
pizza beginning to fill the kitchen.  She could hear the
cheese bubbling, as the unmistakable bread scent of pizza
drifted into her nostrils.  Her stomach grumbled in
response.
     With David upstairs happily recreating Jurassic Park,
she continued to read.

     The phone rang, and she reached over to the small end
table to answer it.
     "Hello?" she said.
     "Hello.  Is this Sarah Chambers?" was the response.
     "Yes.. It is."
     "I'm calling about your husband.  This is Dr. Smythe
from Central Memorial.  I'm afraid I have bad news."
     Sarah's heart skipped a beat as she heard this.
     "He was found at about seven o'clock this morning
collapsed on the floor in one of our washrooms."
     "Yes... he works at Central.  Is he all right?"
Sarah's voice cracked with fear.
     "... I'm afraid he's in a coma.  The medical staff
found him lying on the floor.  His vital signs were very
shaky at that point, and they began CPR.  They managed to
get a slight heartbeat, but he didn't regain consciousness."
     Sarah inhaled deeply.  "Can I see him?  What room is he
in?"  Her brows furrowed with worry.
     "Yes.. you can see him.  He's in room 112 in the East
Wing.  He's in the Intensive Care unit."
     "Ok... thank you, doctor. Good bye."
     Sarah sat in a daze for a few moments, feeling like a
deer caught in the headlights.  Tears began to stream slowly
down her face, as she sniffled softly.
     She stood, and turned the oven off.  The pizza would
have to wait.

     She slowly walked up to Dave's room, wiping her eyes
with her sleeve as she entered.  Dave was deeply immersed in
his project.  She stood in the doorway for a few moments,
and drank in his innocence.  Since her separation from James
three months ago, it was the only thing that kept her sane.
     She then cleared her throat to get Dave's attention.
     He turned.  "Hi Mom.  Is the pizza ready?"
     She fought to regain her composure.  "Sorry, buddy.
The pizza is going to have to wait.  We have to make a trip
somewhere."
     "Where mommy?" He dropped the Lego piece he was
holding.  "Where are we going?"

     Sarah's mind drifted back to the present as if waking
from a dream. She heard the beeping of the heart monitor,
and the ka-chunk whoosh of the respirator.  It continued to
tick off the seconds.
     She turned to David as he stood guard silently -
watching and waiting.
                              
                             37.
     Stephen and Allison stared at the dream master as he
began to transform into a translucent ball of light.  His
body began to spin around, faster and faster, until his
flesh was nothing but a blur.  The speed increased, like an
out-of-control blender.  Sand whipped around the human
cyclone, as the surroundings began to spin and distort.
     The dream master was now a floating ball of light
crackling with bluish bolts of electricity.  The smell of
ozone drifted through the air, as brilliant blue flashes
crackled through the air.
     Sand began to fly towards the sky, as the dream world
began to lose substance.  Sand dunes become flat plains, and
then patches of blackness appeared.  More sand flew upwards,
as if gravity was reversed.  It was like watching the world
being erased.
     They found themselves back in the vacuum.  It was
familiar to all as the starting point of their dream
travels.
     The ball of light spoke in a deep rumbling murmur:
     "You will recognize this area as the waystation to the
other realms.  Notice the perfect stillness, like an
unbroken pond."
     The ball of light flashed brilliantly for a few
seconds, and the vacuum began to shift and distort - hints
of color appearing at the edges that drifted into the
middle, and stained the void a dull green.
     "With one's mind, all can be transformed.  Your body,
your mind, your surroundings,"  The voice continued.
     The green darkened slightly, and shifted to a grayish
brown.  The distant chirp of birds could be heard, and well
as the sound of raindrops falling onto leaves.
     Trees formed from the bottom of the plane, growing in
size and complexity rapidly.  They started as vague
ghostlike shapes, like absence of color, and then began to
solidify. Branches sprouted from the trunks, and leaves from
the branches.  The ground below began to take form, blades
of grass and clumps of dirt dissolving into view.
     "This is my oasis.  I come here to collect myself, and
to rejuvenate my spirit.  My soul feels refreshed while in
this realm."
     Wind whistled through the trees, as the rain began to
fall.  Water dripped down towards the grass, as the storm
increased in intensity.  The ball of light contracted and
then shrunk to the size of a pinprick.  It collapsed to
nothing, and the dream master's body faded back in, its form
wavering like it was underwater.
     "Whatever one can imagine - one can realize."
     The possibilities reeled through Stephen's mind, a look
of amazement and awe planted on his dream face.  Allison
shared the look, as shocked by the turn of events as Stephen
seemed to be.
     "As I said before, it is our mission to explore the
water beneath the iceberg.  There is much more to explore,
but time is running short.  I must now show you how to
harness your dream energy - your Ka."
     The master paused for a few moments, and closed his
dream eyes.
     "Your dream essence is like a pool of life-giving
water.  From the pool, you can fill your soul with energy.
However, the pool is not infinite.  It needs to be refilled.
That is why you must develop a dream oasis.  With
meditation, the pool will replenish itself."
     From the master's body came a deep hum that steadily
increased in volume.  His body shook for a few moments as
waves of energy shot out of him, hitting Stephen like a
blast of deafening sound.  It sent him flying back a few
feet, and he felt his back hit a tree.  He rubbed his back
in pain as his spine throbbed.
     "Our energy is collected by the Ka, and can be expelled
as a defense mechanism.  It can create... or it may
destroy."
     The hum increased in volume and changed in pitch to a
deep growl.  Sparks flew from the master's body, collecting
near his solar plexus.  Tendrils of electricity collected
near the master's chest.  They gathered into a pulsing blue
ball of light, and hovered for a few seconds.  Suddenly,
with a blast of energy, the ball flew out towards a tree,
sparks crackling from within the pulsing mass.  It shot
through the forest, and hit the tree with a deafening crash.
Smoke poured from the hole in the tree, as the pulse
continued zooming through the forest.  It hit another tree,
and passed right through it, leaving a gaping hole.  The
ball of light began to spin, and then levitated in midair.
     It then shot back towards the master, flashing through
the air with lightening speed.  The master smiled as the
ball hovered in front of him.  The master slowly opened his
eyes, and the glowing mass began to shrink.  The grumbling
sound began to dissipate.  It became a quiet hum, and then
nothing.
     "It will take a bit of practice to harness your
energy... think of it as the sum total of your life-force -
your essence, if you will."
     Allison and Stephen stared in awe at the demonstration.
Kirk wasn't as impressed, as he was familiar with the
harnessing process, and it wasn't as much of a shock to him.
     "Now, it is time to learn the harnessing technique.
Close your eyes, and breathe slowly.  Inhale through your
nose, and out through your mouth.  Find the perfect
stillness within your mind, and imagine the collected pool
of your consciousness."
     Stephen closed his eyes, and could feel his breathing
begin to slow down.  He pictured a clear blue pond within
the forest, the water still except for the occasional gust
of wind that stirred it.  Stephen silenced the wind with his
mind, and the water became a perfect blue sheet.  Stephen
willed his body to immerse into the cool water, as he felt
his body tremble.  Energy flowed through him like
electricity through a copper wire, as he felt his nerves
begun to shake.  His mind pulsed with energy and he floated
back out of the pond.
     "Now that you have found your energy source, it is time
to harness it.  Picture an empty vessel - now imagine water
flowing into the vessel.  It is the water from your pond.
When the container is full, feel the water take solid shape
and form.  Direct all of your energy into the container,
until it feels like it may burst."
     Stephen pictured an empty clay vase, and poured the
life-giving water into it.  The water dissolved into liquid
light, pulsing small flashes of electricity.  The light
gathered together into a ball, and floated within the
container. It drifted out of the container, and hovered in
front of Stephen's head.  It floated down to his chest, and
stopped at his solar plexus.
     Stephen opened his eyes, and looked around the forest.
A sizzling ball of electricity hovered in front of Allison
and Kirk as well.  Each ball sent off waves of power, small
bluish sparks crackling up from the center.
     "We will have to combine our Ka into one.  We can
multiply our power if we work together.  We are but fish
within the ocean of mass consciousness."
     Stephen willed the ball of light towards the mass in
front of Allison.  As it moved closer, sparks of electricity
crackled, as if they were fingers reaching to gather the
light.   The smell of ozone drifted through the air, and a
blinding flash shot from the combined mass.  Kirk's energy
floated towards the ball of light, and melded in another
brilliant strobe.  Waves of heat pulsated from the center of
the energy.
     A deep hum permeated the air, as the trees suddenly
burst into flame.  They crackled as deep acrid smoke drifted
through the forest.  The trees collapsed with a crash to the
ground.
     The ground drifted downward, losing form as the sky
above darkened.  The sky became black, and the ground
disappeared completely.
     They had returned to the way station.
     "That completes today's training.  It will be vitally
important to find your oasis and replenish your energy after
this exercise.  Now, please exit the dream plane.  I will
speak to everyone at another time."
     Stephen coasted towards a small flaw in the dream
curtain.  As he moved closer, details of his high school
hallway began to take shape.  He flew through the hall, the
lockers on either side nothing but a colorful blur.  He flew
through the door of the classroom, and was not surprised to
his body directly in from of him.
     He drifted back into his body, and felt an all-powerful
calm envelop him.
     The room spun as waves of dizziness crept through his
mind.  Stephen awoke to a crowd of students standing in
front of him.  Waves of concern flashed through Mr. LaBerg's
eyes as he asked, "Are you all right?"
     Stephen nodded, and whispered:
     "Yes.. I'm fine... Just a little tired."
     "Ok.  If you are sick, please walk down to the
infirmary.  I could have someone walk you, if you want."
     "No... that's Ok.  I'm fine."
     The class continued, as Stephen's mind reeled.

     Allison felt herself being tugged downward into the
void.  Her stomach dropped as she flew through the
blackness, and soared down towards her school.  It was like
being dropped from an airplane.  She drifted through the
school roof, and back into the infirmary.  She floated back
into her body, and felt slightly nauseous.  Her head pounded
as she attempted to open her eyes.  The world drifted back
into focus.  The rough material of the cot scratched her
back as she turned over on her side.  She felt her eyelids
become heavy, and then drifted off to sleep.

     Kirk was still within the dream realm for a few
moments.  The master's demonstration was awe-inspiring, and
he needed some time to collect his head.
     "Kirk, our work is done here for now.  Please return to
the real world,"  The master insisted.
     "Yes, master.  I just needed to take some time to
recover from that display.  It was like nothing I've ever
seen or felt before."
     "Yes.  I understand.  We will need all of these
techniques and more to succeed.  There is still much to be
done.  But time is not on our side.  The battle will begin
soon."
     Kirk felt waves of fear tremble through him as he waved
good-bye to the master.
     Kirk drifted upwards towards a small pinprick of light.
It grew in size as he flew towards it.  The light began to
take shape.  Kirk flew past the streetlight and coasted
towards home.  He passed Stephen's house on the way, and a
deep feeling of nervousness made his stomach feel like it
was in his shoes.
     Kirk floated past Maple, past the 7-11, and then past
the library.  He found himself in the sanctuary of his
bedroom - the movie posters gracing his wall, the oak
dresser seeming to stand guard.
     Even within his oasis, he could not shake the fear of
the upcoming battle.
                              
                             38.
     Jeff Moyers paced restlessly around his cell.  With
each step across the cracked, urine-stained floor, he could
feel his rage increasing.  It sat in the pit of stomach like
an acid, as his body shook with rage.  His anger increased
in intensity like the volume of a television.
     His ears began to ring with an incessant buzzing, as he
continued to pace around the cell.  Thoughts of revenge
streamed through his head like frames from a snuff film.
The small part of him that loved his daughter began to die.
     A black pool of shadow drifted towards him from the
corner of his cell.  It streamed down the wall like the
world was in super slow motion.  Jeff watched with rapt
fascination as the shadow dripped down the wall towards the
floor.
     It crept towards him, and Jeff felt every fiber of his
being welcome it.  It flowed up his skin, and the stinging
burning sensation made Jeff cry out in pain.  Even the pain
was delicious.  As it reached his face, it began to darken
even further.  It became an impenetrable mask, blocking out
all light as it crawled over his eyes.
     Blood streamed down Jeff's face, as red tears flowed
out through his tear ducts.  Jeff screamed as the shadow
flowed into his nostrils - the membranes inside burning with
a tingling heat.  A cloud of blackness began to envelop the
cell, as Jeff felt himself pass out.  His body slumped to
the floor, twitched, and then was still.

     Jeff found himself in a perfect black void.  With a
twinge of familiarity, he recognized the vacuum as the place
he had been before.  He waited for the sound of shrieking,
and the appearance of the horrible beasts.
     He didn't have to wait long.  They appeared above him,
shrieking like bats from hell, blood and saliva dripping
from their fangs and talons.  Jeff could hear the loud
whoomp of leathery wings as several swooped towards him.
     The overpowering scent of ammonia filled the void, as a
pink glow flashed in the distance.  Gigantic jellyfish with
tentacles dripping slick slime flew past.  They drifted over
to the edge of the void, and were joined by more creatures.
     These creatures looked like giant lobsters, pincers and
spikes glowing red in the darkness.  Blood dripped from
their spike-encrusted claws, as a low grumbling hum vibrated
through the air.
     Hordes of lobster-creatures swarmed upon Jeff's body.
He felt his flesh being torn to shreds as the claws dug into
his skin.  He screamed in terror and pain - his nerves
pulsing with electric sensation.  His mind was razor sharp,
and could feel each slice like he was being cut to ribbons
with a razor.
     Jeff looked down at the heap of bleeding flesh his body
had become.  The lump flowed downward into a stinking puddle
of skin and bone.  It sizzled and popped as steam began to
rise from it.
     Razor-sharp pincers the color of crabmeat sprouted from
either size of the mass.  Incestoid legs morphed out of the
puddle, as a lobster head grew out of the mass like a
misshapen plant.  With a click and a clack, Jeff could feel
his pincers open and close.  They were covered in sharp
spikes that looked like the surface of a blowfish.
     Jeff's brain sparkled with a sense of power, as he
crawled slowly around the void.
     The other creatures gathered around him; lobsters,
jelly-fish, and bats.  Low wisps of disjointed words flowed
through his mind.
     At first they were nothing but gibberish, but the
meaning soon was clear.
     They were telling him how to kill.
                              
                             39.
                              
     Stephen's class finished, and he began to walk to the
door.  Before he could leave, Mr. LaBerg motioned him over
to his desk.  Stephen rolled his eyes with impatience.
     "I'm concerned about you, Stephen,"  Mr. Laberg began.
     "There's been a noticeable slide in your marks
recently, and the fainting spell in class today I've heard
from other teachers has happened before.  Can you please
tell me what is going on?"  His eyes were genuinely
compassionate.
     Stephen paused for a few moments, and looked around the
room.
     "Nothing, really.  I'm just going through a lot of
stuff right now.  I'm also helping Allison deal with a bunch
of issues.  I can't really talk about it."
     "I understand.  But, please talk to the counselor
before things get too out of control.  Deal?"
     "Okay. It's a deal,"  Stephen managed a small smile,
and left the class.

     As Stephen walked through the halls towards his locker,
he felt his head spin with confusion.  The experience in the
dream world was very exciting, but at the same time mind
numbing.  On top of that, he had the situation with Allison
to deal with.  Stephen felt his arm itch, and scratched at
it absently.  He winced in pain, as part of the newly formed
scar tore away.  He peeled back the bandage slightly, and
peered at the letters beneath.  For a moment, he thought
back to his initiation, and the vision of Allison's murder.
At that point, the stakes were high.  Now, they have gotten
higher.
     Stephen opened his locker, and peered inside at the
textbooks and various garbage strewn about.  Pictures of
dragons clipped from Wizard Magazine adorned the door.  A
tribute to Stephen's favorite mythical beast.  The
centerpiece was a large dragon soaring over a castle, as it
shot fire down on a group of orcs below.  They were
screaming in terror at the scaly creature's wrath.  The
dragon's mouth was open wide, and in its eyes gleamed an
intense power.  Stephen smiled at the image, and pictured
for a moment himself as the dragon - meting out justice with
pillars of fire and smoke.
     Stephen next class was Social Studies after his spare
period.  Stephen's smile grew as he thought about his next
forty minutes of freedom.
     As he was walking towards the school entrance, he
passed by the office.  He looked inside, and could see
Allison lying upon the cot in the infirmary.  She was
snoring loudly, and seemed rather contented.  Stephen
decided to check on Allison's condition with the nurse.
     He walked into the office, and waited while the
secretary answered a phone call.
     "Yes.. the principal has received your brochure.  No,
he has not made a decision yet.  I've already spoken to you
about this five times in the past two months!  As soon as he
does, he'll call you back.  Ok.. goodbye."
     The secretary seemed rather annoyed by the call, her
eyes glazing over with frustration.    She didn't notice
Stephen standing there.
     She looked up from her desk.  "Oh. Hi, Stephen.  What
can I do for you?"
     "Looks like your having a stressful day."  He motioned
toward the phone.
     "Oh that?  It's nothing.  Just a very persistent sales
guy.  He's like a shark at any sign of blood in the water."
She laughed, and the glaze of stress upon her eyes
disappeared.
     "How can I help you, Stephen?"
     "I just wanted to check on how Allison was doing.  I
noticed she's sleeping in the infirmary.  Is it serious?"
     "I spoke to the nurse," The secretary answered.  "She
said it wasn't anything too serious.  Apparently, she
fainted in class.  Nothing to worry about, I'm sure."
     "Ok.  Just thought I'd check..  Thanks."
     "Not a problem.  It's good to see you're such a good
friend, Steve."
     "Ok... see ya."

     Stephen walked through the big brown double doors and
outside.  It was a slightly gray overcast day, and the usual
bird symphony was not as loud as usual.  A slight wind
ruffled Stephen's hair.  He walked over to the back of the
school, and towards a cluster of benches in the back of the
school.
     Stephen sat upon the bench, and thought again about the
past few days.  His stomach twitched nervously as he mused
about the battle ahead.  He remembered the Dream Master's
words about finding an oasis to refresh one's soul.
     Stephen closed his eyes, and willed his breathing to
slow down.  He inhaled and exhaled slowly, counting the
breaths like an insomniac counting sheep.  Sounds of traffic
in the distance and birds chirping began to fade in volume.
The world disappeared as the volume faded to nothing.
     Stephen continued counting his breaths until he felt
waves of tension flow out of his fingers and toes.  They
seemed to seep into the ground, leaving his body and mind in
a perfect state of relaxation.  The nervous twitching in
Stephen's stomach subsided.
     Stephen focused on the blackness in front of him, and
concentrated on the center of the void.  He focused his will
into a single beam of energy, trying to shoot a hole through
the vacuum.  He could visualize a solid beam of pure white
light focused with laser-like clarity, as it began to tear a
hole in the blackness.  The beam shifted from side to side,
and a blinding white light shone from behind the curtain.
The beam grew in width and intensity.  It swallowed the
blackness, inverting the void into a solid mass of light
that Stephen felt himself swim through.
     There was a slight resistance as Stephen's body coasted
through the whiteness.  It was like swimming through pure
white crystalline water.  Stephen could feel his mind
crackling with intensity, as an all-encompassing calm washed
over him.  Stephen pictured the clay vase from the training.
     It floated in front of him, as he swam through the anti-
void.  Rays of silken light flowed into the vase like water
down a waterfall.  The vase began to fill, as glistening
beams of light shone from the top of the container.
     When the vase was full, Stephen felt energy course
through his veins.  His coasting speed increased to a
whiplash blur as he soared through the infinite cloud.
     The vase shrank down to a pinprick of light, and then
disappeared.
     The angelic white glow faded to gray and then to black.
     Stephen heard a whispered jumble of voices in the
distance.  He focused on the source, and the voices became
clearer.  Stephen pictured a radio tuning into a station,
and with perfect clarity heard the words of the dream
master.
     "Stephen... it is time to continue your training.  Meet
me and the others in the forest at the end of the day.  Time
is running short..."
     Stephen coasted through the blackness for a few more
minutes, basking in the sense of tranquility he was
experiencing.  He willed himself to open his eyes...

     Stephen looked down at his watch, and realized that he
had slept most of his spare away.  He stood up from the
bench and walked over to the school, thoughts of tonight's
training racing through his head.
     Reality is kind of boring  he thought.
                              
     40.

     Allison moaned softly in her sleep.  Her body tossed
and turned fitfully, as the mind-movie began.
     She found herself standing at the edge of a massive
cliff, its reddish orange walls plummeting straight down to
an ice-blue ocean below.  Waves crashed towards shore with a
roar, sending jets of spray and foam sailing through the
air.
     The sky was a dark gray, and was heavy with
thunderclouds.  Lightening flashed in the distance,
reflecting off of the steel blue ocean.   Allison looked
down at the depths below, and could feel her stomach drop to
her knees.
     She dove off the cliff into the water below.  She hit
the water with a force that felt like her head was
exploding.  She drifted through the water like a piece of
cork in a wine bottle.  She gasped for breath, as her eyes
began to water from her ceaseless coughing.  The waves
crashed around her head, as her lungs felt like they would
burst.  She gasped again for air, and began to swim towards
shore.  In the distance, she could see the rocky beach.  She
rose and fell like driftwood floating through the
turbulence.  She arrived at the shore, and lay upon the
rocky expanse.  The storm dissipated, as the clouds began to
clear.  The sky revealed millions of stars above as the
clouds receded into the distance.  They drifted further
eastward, leaving the sky a bluish black canvas alight with
pinpricks of stars.
     Her breath was still hitching in her chest for several
minutes.  She gasped for air a few more times, as her
breathing returned to normal.  Her heart was racing with
adrenaline.  She slowed her breathing, and her heart
followed suit - returning to a regular rhythm.

     She continued to rest, surveying her surroundings.
Various bits of garbage and driftwood were strewn about the
beach, as well as small multi-colored shells.  She reached
over to pick one up, marveling at the intricate complexity
of the spiral within.  The perfect design.
     A few feet away, the sand began to shift.  Allison's
eyes were drawn to the spot as if by instinct.  The sand
flowed downward, as if a trapdoor had opened beneath.  A
spiky claw raised from the rocky sand, followed by a
crustaceous lobster body.  It looked much larger than normal
- but that could have been a trick of the  light.  It crawled
closer through the rocky sand, and Allison realized
something was dreadfully wrong.  Her brain screamed in
terror as the lobster thing approached.  It increased in
speed rapidly.  Every nerve in Allison's body screamed at
her to RUN like she had never RUN.  She quickly stood, using
her arms to prop up her body.  Her feet sank into the rocky
sand, as her body tried to gain enough leverage to stand.
     She began to run along the beach, the sharp rocks
digging into her feet, and between her toes.  Every nerve
jumped with fear, as she looked back at the creature.  It
was still crawling towards her, and with each step grew in
size.  It was now about half of her height, and she swore
she could see its claws dripping with dark slime.  Its
eyestalks twitched as its mandibles clicked together, as if
hungry.
     Allison ran even faster, the wind whipping through her
hair.  She turned again.  The creature was gaining on her
rapidly.  Its claws clicked again, as if in anticipation of
a meal.
     Allison stumbled over a large rock, and fell into the
sand.  She spit out grains of sand and small rocks as her
mouth hit the ground.  She tried to stand again, but her
feet could not get a grip.  Sand flew behind her, as the
creature approached.
     With a low rumbling growl, it was upon her.  Allison
prepared for the moment of attack, each muscle tensing with
anticipation.
     The spiky claws scratched her skin, leaving small
trails of blood up and down her arms.  The lobster claws
waved in front of her face, as the creature sat upon her
chest.  The claws clicked together as if taunting her.
     Allison pushed against the body of the creature, but it
was far too heavy.  It would not budge.  She could feel the
sharp pain of the insectile legs digging into her belly.
     The creature jumped off of her suddenly.  It swung its
claws towards her face as if brandishing a weapon.  A tidal
wave crashed towards Allison, covering her face in foam and
salty water.  She gasped for air as the water receded back
into the ocean.
     More creatures appeared.  Some were nothing more than
formless blobs of blackness that oozed from the water onto
the rocky sand.  They flowed over the beach as a liquid
shadow.  Snakes with glistening fangs slithered from the
water onto the sand in front of her.  Allison wrinkled her
nose at the scent - a combination of sulfur and rotten
potatoes.
     Allison shrieked as more creatures appeared - some
looking like catfish with hairy spider legs grafted unto
their bodies.  Her legs found their footing, and she ran
from the horror.  She looked back one final time, and could
see flocks of bats swoop down into the mass of creatures.
They shrieked and squeaked like dogs from the far side of
hell.
     Allison ran further down the beach until she came to a
slight incline.  She jogged up and back towards her original
spot overlooking the cliff.
     She looked down to the beach below at the creatures.
They looked back at her as if waiting for a secret signal to
attack.
     In the distance, Allison could hear wisps and whispers
of a distant voice.  It became louder and clearer as the
clouds drifted back towards the beach.  Distant rumblings of
thunder pounded through the air.  The whispers became words.
     She was being summoned.     

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