Dream Warriors

Chapter One: The Midnight House

Kara stood in the middle of the driveway, staring up at the looming Victorian house. Its weathered bricks and towering chimneys cast long shadows over the front lawn, and a faded sign hanging by the porch read "My House Your House." She shifted her backpack higher on her shoulder, her stomach twisting in knots.

"You'll love it here," the caseworker had said. "It's a great place. The Masons are really good people."

Kara wasn't so sure. Every group home had been "great" according to caseworkers, and none of them ever felt that way to her. This place looked like a relic from another time, with creaking wood, a sagging roof, and ivy crawling up its sides. The house stood in defiance of the world around it, as if it had stories no one dared to tell.

Kara took a deep breath, tugged at her sleeves, and stepped up the porch stairs. Each creak felt like the house whispering secrets in her ear, like it knew she didn't belong. She reached for the brass knocker, but before she could touch it, the front door swung open, revealing a kind-faced woman in her sixties, with soft gray curls and sparkling blue eyes.

"You must be Kara," the woman said, her voice warm and welcoming. "I'm Mrs. Mason, but you can call me Margaret."

Kara nodded, swallowing hard. She tried to smile, but it felt like her face was made of stone.

"Well, come on in," Margaret said, stepping aside and holding the door open wider. "You're home now."

Home.

Kara wasn't sure if she remembered what that word meant anymore, but she stepped inside anyway. The smell of freshly baked cookies and cinnamon filled the air, and the interior of the house felt strangely warm, as if the walls themselves were alive with a comforting energy.

"Let me show you to your room," Margaret said, leading Kara down a hallway lined with old photographs of smiling children. "We've got a nice group of kids here—around your age, too. I think you'll get along just fine."

They passed a large grandfather clock that ticked loudly, its hands inching closer to midnight. Kara glanced at it and felt a strange unease settle in her chest.

"Don't worry," Margaret said, catching her glance. "This old house makes a lot of noise, but you get used to it."

Kara nodded but kept her eyes on the clock. Something about it seemed off, like it was counting down to something. A shiver ran down her spine, but she quickly shook it off.

Margaret led her up the stairs and into a small but cozy room. The bed was covered in a soft quilt, and there was a desk by the window overlooking the backyard. A single lamp illuminated the space, casting a warm glow over the walls.

"You can make yourself at home," Margaret said, placing a hand on Kara's shoulder. "If you need anything, just let me or Mr. Mason know. We're always here for you."

"Thanks," Kara muttered, her voice barely audible. She dropped her backpack onto the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do next.

"I'll leave you to get settled in," Margaret said with a smile before quietly closing the door behind her.

Kara stared at the door for a long moment, listening to the soft creaking of the house around her. It was quiet now, but there was something beneath the silence—a hum, almost imperceptible, like the house was alive, waiting.

She lay back on the bed, her mind racing with questions. Why had this place been her last option? What was so special about the Masons and their home? And why did it feel like she had stepped into a different world the moment she walked through the door?

Kara's eyes drifted to the window, where she could see the moon hanging low in the sky. Midnight was approaching, and the house seemed to grow quieter, as if holding its breath.

Just as she was about to close her eyes, the grandfather clock downstairs chimed.

Once.
Twice.
Three times.

Kara sat up, her heart pounding. She counted each chime, her pulse quickening with every toll of the bell.

When the clock struck twelve, something changed.

The air in the room grew thick, and the soft glow from the lamp flickered. Kara's breath hitched in her throat as she felt the floor beneath her tremble. She glanced at the door, half-expecting Margaret to come back and reassure her, but the hallway outside was silent.

Suddenly, the walls began to shift, the wood groaning as if stretching after a long slumber. The room around her twisted and warped, like a dream slowly coming to life. The bed felt like it was floating, and the window outside rippled like water.

Kara scrambled off the bed, her heart racing. "What the—"

Before she could finish the thought, the room settled back into place, the strange sensation fading as quickly as it had appeared.

Kara stood frozen, her breath shallow. She looked around the room, everything appearing normal again, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something had just changed—something she couldn't explain.

Her gaze drifted back to the clock.

Midnight.

And somehow, Kara knew that nothing would ever be the same.