Chapter 7 Part 5

A Nightmare Reborn

Chapter 7 Part 5

We were both right at the door of where our pursuer waited for us, like a banshee haunting the halls of a long-forgotten castle. A thick fog had surrounded us, obscuring both our eyes and tired bodies. Gustaf, not to be underestimated even now, has not seemed to loose a single bit of his eroded resolve. His clothes, his body, his hair, all of it was covered in blood, sweat, and the filth that comes from possessing a mortal coil. Honestly, he looked no different than me, except for that one key difference that came from my invested emotion. He was ready to kill, without any doubt or regard. I was ready, also, but I had my regrets. Yes, regrets. Not doubts, not second thoughts, but regrets. That's what I have, as in my mind I have already killed her. Alice is already dead inside of me. This is what I accepted that I must believe if I am do the task that is at hand. Yes, tremble at my disregard for rationality and sanity. I am madman incarnate! Human love and emotion be damned! Fiends must pay, as must she. Alice must die in me as much as she must die to this world. If I keep her alive in my mind then I fear that the nightmare that threatens to overthrow this earth will succeed in its nefarious plot. Dreams and nightmares alike exist not only in this world but our own unconscious minds, giving our lives a dark backdrop that is hardly ever seen but is always present. I've came to know this as simply "The Nightmare." This is the only name that seemed suiting to me. Now, as this old mentor of mine, dog as he is, urges me to dredge on, and I accept the fact that Alice will be completely dead very soon.

Gustaf took the first step, pushing me aside with his brute force that only one such as he can truly wield. As he received the first glimpse upon the ghastly denizen that Alice had became, I cursed him, wishing even more for his gift of fortune. She had became what everyone but I had feared. She was no longer mysterious and serene. She was now dark, insidious, and a true sight to behold! She towered above us, her head far above before even where the giant that was the good father stood. Her mouth had long teeth, rows and rows of them, dripping with crimson red frothing saliva. Her hair had became stringy and sharp, it amounting to several yards in length. Her nose had became part of a concave snout, and the only thing that remained me of her were her unmistakable eyes, which had now became black, obsidian, more jaded than the coal pits of Hades. Her body had shed all formalities, becoming like an upright centipede. Each of her ribs extended well over twenty feet, the bones showing from beneath her now ashen skin. Her arms had lost their former shape as well, becoming bladed protrusions that could serve her no practical application. They looked as if they belonged to a jungle bat more than anything else. Her legs had became broken and useless, and she slithered across the ground on a tail that Medusa would envy. As she neared us, both Gustaf and I drew whatever makeshift weapons we had assembled, but, what once was Alice had stopped before us, and I sensed her still resonate mind, keeping its former loose grasp of sanity. As she opened her mouth that could only be described as a fiend's jaws, I cursed what came out of it. I had expected a roar, a snarl, or an unearthly hiss. Instead, what Alice had became, said, pleading,

"Don't do this!"

She didn't say to not kill her. This beast is fringing its former heart. As I drew a shiv, one that I had sharpened on a beast's bones, I tossed it high into the air, it drawing Alice's black blood from her bottom jaw. She did not flinch or let out a contest of pain, knowing fully well that this act is one she is continuing. As pus and putrid fluids oozed from where my knife had punctured, it having fallen out easily with Alice's true body's state of decay, it let out a clang, it making the only sound in the cavernous region that was this room. She did not fight back. Instead, Alice asked, groaning in mocking despair,

"Is this what you truly want?"

Gustaf could not continue his attempt at patience. He let out a loud and boisterous war cry, charging Alice's tail. As he climbed up her back, he drove his axe into her ribs, and as her body gushed like a foul geyser, I realized his intention was not to wound her. He was scaling her, as if his crude weapon had became a mountaineer's dependable tool. As Alice cried out, in an unholy, deafening scream, I knew it was in vain. She said,

"No, what are you doing?"

It was in vain. Gustaf had used his proud beasthood to mount her narrow ridge. He swung his axe into the top of her head with all of his might, and I realized it was over. Alice did not cry again, and as I rolled away from her timbering body, I narrowly dodged a crushing accident. As her body lacked life, I knew she would forever be no more. Gustaf, the silver beast, picked me up, and strapped me across his back. He ran with me, as he said, in a bellowing, gruff, wolven shout,

"Come on!"

Thank you, friend, my partner. Thank you for not letting me have time to process or believe what she had became. Thank you for not making my life fall to her still worthy charms. Thank you, unrivaled hunter father Gustaf, for helping me kill all of my lust and mortality, forever. Let it die, for it hath now. I am no longer at all human, but instead a wicked hunting beast. Praise the nightmare and its ability to warp even me.

Chapter 7 Part 4

A Nightmare Reborn

Chapter 7 Part 4

This isn't the smell of love in the air, but one of lust, revenge, and betrayal. I sincerely doubt that Alice still believes me to be loyal to the case. She fully senses that I have not only gained air of her true intentions, but also that the prize she offers is not enough. She does not want to surrender easily, though. She knows that Sam had succumbed to the dangers of this mine. How can she not know? I have known that she had sent him here to be my bait for awhile. The demon that he had become was proof that she had not truly cared for him. He had been a beast for awhile. Alice had left him here to rot. She wanted to dispose of him, and I feel that, even then, she had not been in control of her own actions. What I had thought before, was entirely wrong. Alice isn't in control. She wants to apologize for what she has done to me, and it's obvious. She intends to try and sacrifice what could be her very life to try and stop Althia. Despite what she believes, she is still playing right into the old god's hands. Seeing Alice would only cause me to become weak. I know what Althia has planned. She intends to kill my resolve. Alice is an image of my forlorn desires. My fascination with her is clearly as sexual as it is psychological. If I live a life with her, I would feel that my life would not be in vain. Her age does not take away from her beauty. If I had her, I swear, damn it....no. I cannot be weak, and I will continue on, wishing to stay in a dream that is clearly a product of madness. Madness suits me only in taste. It would be only mad to want to stay here. Despite me yearning my sanity, why do I now believe I will stay here forever?

He knows what I am thinking. His eyes say everything. All of these last few moments, I have ceased to arouse his doubt. Gustaf is a man of wisdom, and he has survived as long as he has because of his gift, that being one of intuition. His ability to know what others are thinking, as I say, is uncanny. He knows what I want, the good father truly does. His murderous ways have not brought him out of touch with reality. Madness must be the true sanity, as I've never met a bigger madman than him. Who knew that such a friend could be the most stable of all? His demented demeanor is the product of what he has lived through, not his actual state of mind. For all of the battles he has fought, I am sure all of the ones of difficultly were only of spirit. Gustaf is not a weak man, at least in the broader sense of the term. His mind, albeit tired, was strong, much like his body. His spirit, however, is weary, and all can see this. Why he has not left me, I do not know, but it did make me realize one more thing. My final pondering of this serene moment was that, I, have some perceived worth, despite all of my own ugly doubts. I suppose I was the only one who still was holding on to the suspicious mind.

Neither of us had the intention of prolonging the inevitable. We both wanted this substantial middle encounter. Both of us thirst for it. Alice has left her calling card ahead, that strong aroma that had captured my fantasies since the first moment she had called me. The summoning she had given me then was nothing compared to the one pulling me in now. This beckoning, unlike before, was a loud ringing bell, one calling me, relentlessly in my head. It wasn't some distant want to become romantic with a client, as I had fancied so many times before. What I want now is to cut down Alice, to free her from where she lies. She is hung amongst the gallows, amongst a field of deprived souls. Her blackened lonely heart told of only one true calling, and that was to deceive mine, whether that be her choice willingly or not. All things have to die, as does our short charade. It has been drawn out long enough, though our matters are one of mere brevity. How intense I have made this Alice ordeal was something I will always be fond of, no matter how childish my feelings may be. A child is the only one who falls in love with a woman he's only known in passing. Maybe this is the true standard of men, as many are children by this mere and hollow realization. We don't want our hearts to be full of wasted emotion, but all men possess only so. No man, therefore, has ever been an adult with his emotions. No wonder men perceived as true discard all such things. As we finally both stepped forward to the wooden door ahead, which we knew was our only obstacle keeping us from the temptress Alice, I finally felt like what it is like to become a true emotion, as my heart became cold, dark, and empty. It must be if I am to kill her.

Chapter 7 Part 3

A Nightmare Reborn

Chapter 7 Part 3

It doesn't matter what happens. It doesn't matter at all. Reality is something that is imaginative at best. After living in this astral world of sin and diabolic pleasure, I do not want to awake from this dream. Whether this dream be a nightmare or otherwise, I have found a life that greatly outweighs my former pitiful existence. This friend I have in Father Gustaf, my elderly mentor, has brought me out of the dangerous pit that is my skeptical and chaotic mind. Before, I had found only sorrow in how I lived. Coming to this forbidden place has shown me what I had been missing. When I first encountered these beasts, I had known danger, however exciting it was. Gustaf was needed to allow me to escape my fear. Inhibition has finally left me because of him.

I had wanted to remain trapped in that ecstatic illusion before. Now, I am thinking about that woman from my past. The erotic visions I had seen of her had not left by choice. Holly would not be someone I forget easily, as I had seemed to before. What kind of man am I to forget such a pretty face? My cursed morals will die. They must remain here, left behind at this now empty camp. I do not want to kill Alice with any sort of regret. She is my true enemy, my true foe. She tempts me to be weak. As Gustaf rested, laying upon a bundled canopy on the ground I knew that his whimsical nature belied his true apprehension. He wishes to slay a great one, much as I aspire to kill Alice, my foolish contractor. How dare she try to deceive me. She lied to me in order to complete her false God's plan. She wanted to use me to spread the seed that would seal this nightmare upon the earth. The balance that keeps this dream world away from the waking life that we all believe to be normality is needed. This corrupt world is foul and would pollute anyone not used to its arcane energies. It wants to take over the rest of this life. It wants to make the earth a part of this nightmare. The old god Althia would easily conquer our life should the nightmare spread. This, and all of the consequences with such a scenario, does not actually matter to me. The only thing that I am debating now is which reality should become my home. Would my life resume should I leave this dream? Would Gustaf leave me? For this much I fear. I believe that Father Gustaf belongs here in this alternative life. I do not want to leave him. For this, I will stick to the nightmare, eliminating the shadows, ending the fusing of worlds should it mean that I can stay in this world forever. Is this not what everyone wants? To stay in their dream forever?

Something still continues to disturb me, as I've come to accept it as a constant. This journey through the mine has became endless. I don't want to wander forever. Despite the fact that I can almost smell Alice's intoxicating aroma. How can this be, though? Althia cannot be close. My emotions played with me now, making me believe the impossible. Although I sense that this is a trick I want to believe. I feel that, somehow, Alice has separated from Althia. Has she came to prevent her death? Has she came to beg for her life? No...no...this cannot be. Gustaf, sensing the disturbance in my conscious, said, quietly,

"Come on, boy."

The term of boy that Gustaf has given me did not lack affection. His regards for my youth was a valuable training tool. It reminds me of both my mortality and his guile. It allows me to trust him. I feel so much safer, and, ultimately, saner, now that he is here. What started as seemingly a chance meeting has proven to be destiny. I know he sought to find me. He must have followed me. He followed me, yes, to find Althia, yet he has became attached to me, failing to think of me as only bait. His intention is to make me his partner, for he says this with his quiet actions. I'm not one to become attached to anyone, not after what had happened to my sickly mother. In a way, Father Gustaf has become my mother. What repressed desire that came with each boy's affections for his mother has now undoubtedly transferred to him. He has became her, and for this, I will stay with him. He's my lover of forlorn proportions. I will not sleep with him, I will not kiss him, but I will be his willing follower. I belong to him now. No matter how many women I sleep with or romance, I will always belong to Gustaf, if only through my debt.

Gustaf got up, beckoned me, and I silently followed him. All of these thoughts I possess must go away, at least for now. The hunt continues. I am weary, I am tense, but I must continue on, for this is my curse. Life has forgotten about me, so I will hunt the nightmare that consumes me, before it can swallow me whole. Hatred is nothing that can be fathomed, but it is what makes me fight on, so therefore, hate is needed. A man is not complete, truly, without hate.

Chapter 7 Part 2

A Nightmare Reborn

Chapter 7 Part 2

This is, without  a doubt, unreal. Nothing in this world makes a bit of sense. The only thing I can do is embrace the chaos that is stewing inside my soul. There is nothing neither I nor Gustaf can do to prevent the nightmare from being reborn. We have so long to go before the final battle ensues. If I am to escape with my life, I must penetrate the thick haze in my mind. I came here because of duty. After I had learned what I thought had been the truth, I became full of heartfelt lust, unknowingly infected by the murderous beast. Now, in this dream world, I know not what is real or fabricated. The truth never seemed so distant. What I feel in my hands now is the touch of cold, dead flesh. My hand does not seem as if it is my own. I do not want to believe that I've came here in vain. No, I haven't. He is here. That is enough.

He gestured to me, beckoning me over. Gustaf tipped his beaten hat, and said,

"It's the only way."

A shaft that reached no higher than a few feet above. It was modest, and it would require us to crawl through. I wish not to think during this time, but I knew my thoughts are against me. I must silence my weary mind now. I followed Gustaf's lead, and crawled for the better part of an hour. Maddening, cruel, and unforgiving was how I perceived the time, with thoughts of a normal life taunting the very dark corners of my abyssal conscious. What have I done to become this? Am I dreaming, am I?

What was ahead was unusual in the sense of its appearance. It was a  tall chamber with what looked like a crude camp that may house some of the miners. Where they are now and how they had erected this modest housing was not important. All I could do is desire a bite of their stowed away delicacies. I wanted nothing more than to feed my stricken body with this nourishment that seemed worthy to our hapless hosts. Gustaf and I approached the supplies, and before we could get them within our grasp, a sense of caution went through us both. We discovered a person, resting beneath a white blanket, one that had since been covered in soot. Their face was turned to the side, and their gender remained undecided. Gustaf leaned down, and carefully turned over their body, as if to probe for a perceived threat. Their dark hair was long, and, as expected, it was a woman. As Gustaf stood back up, she opened her eyes, revealing her confusion. She sat up, and paid no attention to my partner, and instead asked me,

"What are you doing here?"

She smiled, as if to show that she meant us no harm. Gustaf still seemed indifferent, and started to rummage through the camp's supplies. My mind sought to identify the woman, her brown eyes and pale skin seeming to be familiar. Her extravagant hair seemed clean and lustrous even in this mine, and she was clearly out of place. Wait...she is vaguely familiar. I asked her,

"How'd you get here?"

She laughed, casually, in a sensual kind of way. She smiled again, her lips voluptuous and full of color. She answered me,

"I could ask you the same thing."

Gustaf, as he handed me a piece of hardened bread, said, in a mutter,

"She's here because of the dream."

The dream? Can this be anymore confusing? What is this alternative life? Whether this is a dream or not, her actions next were rather...becoming. She stood up, revealing her partially bare, creamy white flesh. She approached me, and extended her thin but firm arms. She wrapped them around me, and parted her lips, revealing her perfect white teeth. She asked, as she put her warm body against mine,

"Did you ever think you'd see me again?"

That's when it struck me. She was a woman I had worked for. I had to retrieve her parcel. She had asked me to not look in it, for some reason. It had been stolen by what was a purse snatcher. When I had tracked down the thief, after nearly a month of searching, she had became very grateful upon having it returned, and revealed that she had not the fee to repay me. She offered me her body, and I had turned her down, as I had discovered previously she was married. Yes, I had looked in her parcel, and found out she was a Misses. What plot she had thought of before is now playing out in this dream world. Here she is, covering my body with soft kisses. Oh, the temptation was great, and I realized something. This dream does not carry the same consequences as the waking world. If I slept with her upon this earthen oasis, would I regret it afterwards? No, of course not.  

I removed her dress, and relished in her pale body. As I massaged her breasts, she moaned, and dropped to the ground. As she held onto my legs and orally pleasured me, I closed my eyes, imagining this experience as if it were real. As she let her tongue glide down my member, her moist mouth let my manhood harden even further. She bobbed her head in rhythm, faster, and faster, until I released, thrusting deep down into her throat. As I let out an utterance, I realized the inevitable truth.

She wasn't there. I had imagined her the whole time. Holly was nothing more than a repressed manifestation of my mind. Gustaf handed me a bottle of looked like warm ale, and said, as if he knew exactly what I was going through, as always,

"The mind is more than unstable."

As always! Who can make light of this life? My regret was not sleeping with Holly before. I had kept my morals, and finished second in life. Maybe stones, though, are better left unturned. To lose your mind is one thing, but, your soul? That's unthinkable! As I drank of the still tasty ale, I ate the piece of bread that Gustaf had handed me before, extremely grateful for my now seldom nourishment. Holly had already became a distant memory, as she had once been before.