Demonic Devotion

Chapter Six: Dream

                                                           You can't sell dreams to someone

                                                          Whose walked through Nightmares. 

                                                                                                  - Elizabeth Bathory

             Perhaps I had too much to drink or I was just exhausted. Or maybe a little bit of both. Whatever the reasoning, my dream felt more real and vivid than any dream I have ever had. I could feel the light breeze against my skin, tickling the fibers of my arm hairs and tossing my ebony hair back. The scent it carried with it was a light freshness mixed with the smell of a flowery fragrance. The sky was a bright blue that contrasted against the white puffiness of the clouds. The grass was the greenest color of green I had ever seen with small dollops of purple from the lilacs scattered about. The area was wide open, not a tree nor building in my eye's distance. I laid down on the mattress of grass, dropping my head back to inhale the freshness and soak in the heat. There was only one word to properly describe the scene; Peaceful.

The air had changed at an increasingly rapid pace of wind gusts. I had to shield my eyes from the dirt that flew around in the wind. With squinted eyes, I looked at the sky for any signs of a tornado, but the sky was still a clear blue. I turned my body away from the wind, listening to it slap against my leather jacket and nearly shoving my body into the direction its course.

Abruptly, the wind halted. No warning or gradual process, just a sudden stop. Opening my eyes, I noticed the space around me was covered in darkness with just an orange light flickering against my vision. I turned my head to see a creature that was the embodiment of 'fear'.

A body draped in a black cloud-like aura with what looked to be a structure of a crippled human skeleton painted in white, stood before me. Despite the white hue of the bones, it glowed a rusted orange. The face mimicked a human skull, but it was stretched at the top. As if the white and orange light combined to create a ghostly flame atop his head. My breath stopped in my throat as my eyes widened at the creature. I didn't move from my position, freezing all my muscles in place. His eyes, hollow like a skull, yet they held a deadly stare that penetrated right through me. I noticed the sudden cold of the atmosphere as it shook the bones in my body. Or that was fear doing that.

The creature flapped its jaw, speaking in a tongue I didn't understand. His voice was deep in his chest, projecting with great volume and it made the flame atop his head flicker in accordance to his syllables.

"Kierran, my boy," his English dialect frightened me and I gasped, "You have finally called for me. Finally came to reason with your inner desires." Even though he spoke English, I was still uncertain on what he was talking about.

He raised his left hand, the black smoke around him following, "Your dreams have been your strive since birth. You create many things from the dreams that surround your mind and depend on it. I can feel the power deep within you and tonight, you called for me. You called for the God of Nightmares. You called for Phobetor." My mind was racing in a thousand directions, trying to comprehend his speech and if I really was dreaming. I shut my eyes tight and clenched my fists together to try and wake up. Despite that his voice still erupted in my ears and he was still in my vision when I opened my eyes. God of Nightmares? I must be dreaming. I didn't believe in mythology; enjoyed the tales and it was good inspiration for my music, but I did not believe they were real.