Dangerous Trio

Through someone else's eyes

It felt like a mirage, the way the images wavered. They were never clear, only leaving outlines and broad assumptions on my end. The sinking feeling started as I looked up from the water, a familiarity washing over me. I gazed at the outline of the man above. My arms and hands were shedding red liquid that merged with the water around me effortlessly.

Again, I tried to swim to the surface, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. Just when I thought I had enough willpower, it was as if bricks were tied to my feet. My arms motioned upwards, yet my feet stayed heavy.

I woke up gasping for air. My room was dark, just as I liked it, but it only heightened my confusion. I fumbled for the nightstand, desperate to turn on the light. When I finally did, it felt like being born into reality for the first time. I leaned back against the headboard, trying to get my bearings, and noticed my sheets were soaked with sweat. I closed my eyes in disbelief. These nightmares were getting worse. They always started the same, but there were small variations in the ending. I always noticed something different—maybe the weight of my body, or the water color. The part that truly unnerved me was not knowing who the man was at the top. I got a sick feeling from it, like maybe he had killed me.

I thought back to how Hannibal suggested it might be my ex and that my mind was repurposing old memories. But nothing like this had ever happened to me before. My ex was abusive and crazy, and yes, he might have killed me if I stayed, but this nightmare felt different, like I was looking through someone else's eyes.

My sessions with Hannibal were mostly consistent, but I knew he did consulting with the FBI, which sometimes required him to travel. This was one of those weeks. My next appointment was set for the following week, but my symptoms seemed to worsen each day. It was getting harder to fake it at work. I wasn't eating, barely sleeping, and every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing that man. I was so desperate for relief that I turned to sleeping pills. It was no surprise that that had little to no effect on me. I had no choice, but to try to live as normal as possible until my next session.

I decided to go for a walk to clear my mind. It was another cloudy day. The sun was just starting to rise, but the fog made it look like evening. I put on a raincoat, just in case it started to rain, and set off on the trails that connected to the condos. The dreams had made me paranoid. I kept looking back, feeling as though I was being followed. Even at work, when I walked to my car, I couldn't stop looking around, convinced someone was after me.

I looked up at the trees. This time of year, they had a melancholic beauty, their leaves a mix of fading greens and browns. Come winter, they would be barren, black stick figures against a gray sky. I took deep breaths, trying to stay focused on the trail ahead. The cool air and rhythmic crunch of gravel under my feet helped a bit, but the unease lingered, a shadow I couldn't shake. Up ahead there was a hill that led to a lookout point with benches and a view. I hadn't been up there in awhile, but from memory I knew it was pretty and I needed to get my mind off of things. The closer I got the more I could see the view from the tree line. I heard the sound of rushing water. I looked back again, then sped up my steps to get to the clearing quicker. My breath started to get heavy and my throat felt dry from sucking in air.

Finally, at the top of the trail, I spotted a well-worn bench with little flowers sprouting on either side. My vision almost felt blurry as I rushed toward it. The clearing opened up to a beautiful view of the river below, flanked by a thick treeline. The recent rainfall the water had risen, making it a sight to see. The sound was calming, but I couldn't bare to close my eyes.

I sat down, trying to steady my breathing and clear my mind. The bench felt grounding, a small sanctuary amidst the chaos in my head. The flowers swayed gently in the breeze, and for a moment, I allowed myself to take in the landscape. Despite the tranquility around me, the unease from my nightmares clung to me, refusing to let go. I wanted to scream, I needed some release, but instead I examined every detail. The water was murky, with vibrant moss carpeting the sides of the river. During the summer months, this spot was popular for fly fishing. As I stared deeper into the view, a feeling of dread washed over me, growing stronger the longer I looked. The peaceful scene began to twist into something unsettling.

My mind wandered back to the nightmares, the images of the man, and the sinking feeling that seemed to follow me even in waking hours. I realized that the colors of the trees, the water, and the sky were all the same as in my nightmare.

Suddenly, I felt a weight on my chest, and my hands began to sweat.I started to panic. I wanted to run, but I was frozen, left only to stare at the nightmare unfolding before me. Images of the man flashed before me as I let out a scream.

I was terrified, but I knew at that moment I needed to see Hannibal as soon as possible.