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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #2248387
Dreams are not always dream

You really can't remember when you first started hearing him, and you really can't remember a time in your life when he hasn't been there. I say he only because of his masculine appearance and demeanor.Your first memories are hearing him in a peripheral sense, only in your dreams and usually just a background noise giving me some direction in a nightmare or graphic dream, never direct contact. You know the whispers and voices that never adhere to your thought process but somehow makes sense in the interlude of your dream pattern only to be more confusing after returning to the world of the realist.
The face was the same as the words at first-only glimpses of something that only made sense in the REM world and never manifested in the wake Kingdom, but then gradually he started to emerge, at first just soft images of blurred shapes just a taste leaving you wanting, no commanding to reveal what was there inside the shape,then the convex shape head with the sunken dark black orbs recessed in the skull the pronounce cheekbones narrowing down to the thin tight chin upset by the rows of fang like teeth and black gums with a sick almost dead tongue nearly drooling upon every twisted word that was emanating from his thin elongated throat. Overall he was ashen in color, side effects from dwelling in the nightmare world where he first came into your thoughts. His body is long and thin much like his face his unmuscular arms fain down to elongated hands that look arthritic and painful to move with gray black long nails that never scratch but are always painful when he touches you.
Then one cold dream when he told you to scream to get out and all that you could do was muster from your voice was a silent growl. He told you his name, and how you should address him.The mere hearing him finally saying it left chills and sweat on you in the real world as you woke and repeated his name. His name was "BRACKENAUER", and you felt the world quake at the revelation of him!
At first like his voice and appearance-his influence over you starts off slow, whispers, then echoing voices, the vision of him as he starts to lead you in what is slowly becoming his world. You gradually relinquish control, no harm no responsibility. Now as the darkness surrounds you the very thing you were in control of is now in control of you. How did this happen, how did this start you can't remember can you? there was a dream a time but not long ago but long enough you can't place it but it's there-he's there his presence fills the shadows of the rooms in your mind.
You hear a dull thud followed by a suction sound, repeating itself again and again-faint at first but you start to hear the source.You move towards the sound now, as loud as a conversation, you see Brackenauer cowering in the shadow, he has a heavy ball peen hammer, striking an object. the shadow shift in the room, objects appear and move like vapor on a dark lake dancing to a silent symphony, but you see him continuing to strike down on something it is the source of the sound now deafening as you get closer.
Brackenauer doesn't turn but continues his blows on the object now you see a glimpse of white porcelain and a small black patent leather shoe, as you near make out a lacey flower skirt.Trying not to stop his methodic hammering of the object you move into a better position as it is revealed in the sublime, it is a doll, Brackenauer is holding a doll cradling its head in his elongated fingers as he takes the hammer and smashes it again and again against the head, the sound is wrong it is not cracking or crushing and the doll is not like you've seen before it has a pool of dark Ruby blood oozing from its head with spittles of brain matter and bone flaying out after each blow. It is smashed,but it is not broken or shattered, it's caved in at the impact site but to only reveal more blood bone and tissue matter and it's shaking,no convulsing with each blow almost in a seizure like motion.
The hammer has stopped, Brackenauer has stopped and you hear his rasping breathing as his head rotates towards you, the shadow shifts in the room.
Brackenauer screams a deafening sound of a base trumpet blaring then he starts to laugh, a deep evil maniacal laugh. you can't move only you can stare watching not turning away Brackenauer raises his thin arm to point but not at you, he wants you to look, look at the mirror that is formed in the wall, with no resistance or power over your actions you lift your face up to look at the mirror Brackenauer starts to laugh even harder.
You can't see Brackenauer in the mirror but you do see your face your reflection, you shuter and gasp, all the air leaves your lungs trying to turn away in disbelief you look down. Brackenauer is no longer in the room as you stare at yourself holding the doll with the heavy ball peen hammer in your other hand.You can't stop the centrifugal motion of your swing as a hammer lands again on the head,blood and muscle tissue splatter back on you. But as you stare in horrific silence you're not holding the doll but you are holding your sister who just turned five and won't be turning six-the convulsing has stopped and her lifeless body lies in your lap the blood pooling around you with her head caved in from the hammer you begin to scream.
You jolt straight up in your bed covered with sweat not knowing what was real,orientating yourself with the world, you hear your sister laugh as she tears down the hallway of your house, pass your door then you realize it was a dream.But what of this creature who is he and why is he in your head, Goosebumps grow on your arms as you remember his name.
Your morning routine goes without incident, you shower and keep reminding yourself it was only a dream, a nightmare,but a dream nonetheless.As you walk past the mirror in the hallway you catch a glimpse of an object that doesn't move, you stop and reassure yourself of the fact it's just a remnant of the nightmare, upon a closer study of the looking glass all is normal and the reflection very real.
When you get to the kitchen your mother and father are talking in lower voices usually reserved for important adult conversation, there's a troubling look on your mother's face,your dad is more calming than usual. The sounds of the room are different too, no TV blaring the news or the sound of your mother cleaning up before the day starts.
"Honey sit down", she says in a solemn voice,"we have some bad news."
As you ease into the chair at the table she continues,"the Wilkinson's had someone break into their house last night and killed their little girl.Christ she was the same age as your sister!" she blurted out and drop her head into her hands and started to cry.
"Look champ", your Dad consoled,"do me a favor,kind of keep an extra eye out for anything y'know unusual or suspicious you might see okay and just y'know be aware of the people around you and your sister.Okay?"He turned and held your mom as her crying worsened.
Your heart jumped from your chest to your throat as you stared in disbelief into the nothingness, suddenly out of the corner of your eye you saw the shadow move past the patio window outside and seem to disappear with direct eye contact. Jumping from the chair and running outside you clearly saw nothing, nobody, was this still the remnants of the nightmare from before, your attention is quickly drawn to new noises outside you hear the police sirens fane off , the scanners and the people clamoring from across the street where the Wilkinsons live and you begin to shuffle through the mass that has accumulated in front of the house. Many people shocked and you as well are in a serialistic state of trying to understand what was happening. Again, shadows appear and disappear, shuffling through the crowd but it's never really seen when you are actually looking at it. as you come up to the yellow line that is taped off of the crime scene you over here two officers on describing the brutal attack as heinous as they have ever seen,"how can somebody smash a little girl's head like that?"you heard one of the officers say.
You stand in shock knowing exactly what the little girl looked like and the instrument used in the crime.
"What have you done"?, the low raspy voice comes from behind you. quickly spinning you look and see nothing.

© L.J.Apollo
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