|The next night it happened again. Daniel awoke in a sweat, his eyes searched the dark corners of the bedroom as he sat on the edge of the bed, absorbed in thought. Out of the corner of one eye he perceived a ray of light and a lightning glint of steel that temporarily blinded him. In a flash, a long, thin blade pierced his spine and penetrated deep into his midriff until the tip of the blade protruded out of his abdomen.
His scream resembled a discordant wail that vibrated through the quiet of the night. He felt no pain, however, and saw no sign of blood from his wound. Mesmerized, he touched his midriff where the tip of the blade broke the skin, and felt bits of skin tissue. He collapsed into a heap on the floor.
The enigma of the dream intruded into his sleep night after night, for the past five nights. It followed the same pattern: he was awakened by a strange noise and as he sat up, he was distracted by a laser beam and a steely sheen before a sword penetrated his back. It was a puzzle he failed to interpret as a dream psychologist.
He arose from the floor and fell heavily on his bed. He endeavored to keep awake but his eyelids were like tons of rocks as they drooped, closing his eyes. He stirred once when he turned over on his belly.
Amelia, the cleaning woman, appeared on the doorstep early the next morning. She let herself in, and went directly to the closet where she hung her jacket and placed her bag on the shelf. As was her routine, she hummed as she prepared breakfast, and took a tray of freshly brewed coffee, toasted bread, scrambled eggs, fried bacon and sausage to Daniel, his favorite morning meal. The draped windows kept the room in darkness as she placed the tray on the bedside table. She pulled open the drapes, bathing the room in bright sunshine. She turned to wake her employer and stood rooted at the spot, her arm suspended in midair.
Her scream blasted the room with an unearthly cry that bounced from wall to wall and reverberated into the hallway of the building. She ran out into the lobby where she fell, white as sheet, trembling and crying, into the arms of Lino, the apartment manager. Amelia spoke quickly, but her words ran into each other, incoherent and jumbled. Lino was sympathetic and gently led her back into the apartment, sat her on the kitchen chair, and gave her a drink from the tap. Amelia chattered incessantly, sipped her drink and pointed to the bedroom in between bouts of crying. Lino calmed her down, then he dashed into Daniel's room. He stopped short at the doorway, mouth agape, and crossed himself.
On the bed lay Daniel's still form, a profusion of blood oozed from his body, soaked the bed sheets, and spilled into droplets on the floor.
On his back was a silver sword.
Copyright by Liciary