Fear

CHAPTER 1

I woke with a cry of fear and a shudder at the chill. I was wet with sweat; my bed was damp and the sheet clung to my skin as I threw it off me to pull the light cord. Yet another awful dream – more like a nightmare this time. I didn't know the place or recognise the people in it yet it had affected me as powerfully as the previous dreams. I needed to discuss it with someone, but if these dreams continued, I would be heading to the doctor again.

I'd not needed to speak to the mind doctor for some time, nor was I eager to return. Despite the fear, the dreams were not as frightening as a visit to the mind doctor would be. I recalled the previous session with a greater shudder than the dream had produced from me. Strapped into the metal chair with the heavy metal cap on my head, the thin probes pressing against my scalp ready to record all details from the visions crowding into my head, the whole process was more terrifying than the nightmarish dreams I had experienced. The mind doctor held a document on a clipboard and watched me carefully, leering often as I breathed heavily and my breasts heaved. I couldn't hide, my hands tethered to the arms of the chair with heavy leather straps. I was thankful I had thought to wear trousers on those days. At least I had a modicum of protection from untoward advances. Why I thought that, I didn't know. With no warning, the chair tilted back as a probe administered a sedative, the world blurred and the dream began.

I woke on a bed, bathed in sweat and no longer attached to the probe or the chair. I ached all over. The mind doctor gave me a satisfied smile. His clipboard had vanished and he sat idly on a chair, one shin lying across the other thigh as he regarded me.

"Interesting dreams, Eloisa. A fertile imagination, although it's all very real to you, isn't it?"

"They are horrid. I don't sleep well."

"You will not dream them again, Eloisa. The imagery has been removed from your mind. Once you leave here, you will be free of everything. All the fear and the memories of it all will be gone, and you will be able to sleep. You will be normal again."

But they hadn't gone - not completely. The visions lingered, although the memories had subsided almost completely, replaced by an overwhelming dread of the mind doctor. I could sleep though, and I had had months of restful nights, broken only recently as the dreams began in earnest again. The dreams were gentle and pleasant at first, becoming more intense as months passed until they disturbed my sleep. Now they had become powerful enough to frighten me awake. Tonight was the first time I had woken in a sweat. I fought the urge to run as I sat up and swivelled my legs over the side of the bed. Who – or what - was I running from? The people in the dream would follow me wherever I ran. Was it something else in the dream I ran from? I frowned, trying to recall the finer details, pressing my fingers against my eyes in a vain hope of remembering. Stars burst in my head at the pressure and I relaxed a little, breathing deep to calm my racing heart. The light was on – I was no longer in the dark.

Once I was calm enough to walk without trembling, I crossed to my dresser and opened the drawer, fumbling for the catch to release the secret compartment. The side sprung open and I reached in for the book, withdrawing the slim volume carefully. I perched on the edge of the bed and opened it. I had made a kind of diary of my dreams over the years, detailing snippets as I remembered them. As I read through the entries, I recognised events from the old dreams in this new one, but I was left with an unrelenting feeling of a warning. I vaguely remembered a new character in the dream, faceless and threatening. Previous characters seemed to be protecting me from this new person, crowding around me as if to hide or protect me. This is what had woken me in a sweat. I liked space around me - I hated to be enclosed. I noted this change in shaky script then replaced the book into the hide, closing the drawer quietly. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, even though the blinds were closed and the door shut tight.

I started the ageless ritual of checking all the closets, opening and closing the doors to reassure myself that I was alone, checking under the furniture and my bed for any presence before I was satisfied. Sleep would be impossible again, so I picked up my half-completed novel to read. Over the past months, I had read many novels to relax after the dreams. I had tried many genres, until I had discovered this author who had made me feel comfortable about missing sleep to read the tales he spun. I had read three of his novels and was halfway through the fourth. I pulled the pillow from the headboard, turned it to the less damp side and propped it against the footboard of my bed, settling more comfortably in the dry part of the covers and opened the book. I frowned when a piece of paper dropped into my lap. I used a pretty bookmark to mark my place, not a scrappy piece of paper. I picked it up to discard when I spotted my name written on it.

ELOISA

TAKE EXTRA CARE

YOU ARE IN DANGER

WE ARE COMING

G

- What the....?

- Where had this come from? Who had been in my room? What danger? Who was G?

All these thoughts and more raced through my mind as my eyes swept around the room frantically. There was nobody there – I had just checked everywhere. I kept my place locked, kept my key on me and had not lost the key. How could anyone get in? The note had definitely not been in the book when I last read it, so who had put it there, and how? I tried to remember when I had last opened the book – was it early in the morning or mid-day? It still left the question of who had had access to my room and that book in particular. Who would know when I would read it next?

I had received no visitors that day. In fact, I had not left my apartment and, as the weather had been chilly and miserable, I had not opened any doors or windows either. Again I had the feeling of being watched and shivered, feeling true fear and not the imagined type. I had no real friends - just work colleagues, and most of those ignored me. I kept my distance from all of them, even the few that had friendlier expressions. I trusted nobody. I had my reasons, of course. I had not divulged about the sessions with the mind doctor and could not risk discovery of that fact. To withhold such information was gross misconduct, and I needed the pay, so wished to hold on to the position. I tried to lose myself in the mindless work routine, working efficiently and without encouraging conversations with my co-workers, so I did not attract unwelcome attention. Of course, this lead to having no social contact with anyone, which was fine with me. Until now.

I tried to read, but the words blurred together as my mind wandered back to the dream. It always began the same way. I was being hunted and was running, first down streets and then down a forest path. Despite my headlong dash, I knew the hunter followed, just a few yards distant from me, always at the same pace, close enough to me but just out of reach. Despite dreaming of the place consistently, it was totally unfamiliar to me. I was never certain if it were night or day, as both street and forest were bathed in the same orange light. In fact, everything appeared in shades of orange. The mind doctor had said it was my imagination trying to distance the experience from reality, changing the colours to shades of orange and not the usual grey. It was a standard chase dream, he had explained, probably triggered by an event in my childhood, long since forgotten, until something in my daily routines bought it to the fore. I had changed my work, my daily personal routines, even my route to work and shopping, but the dreams still persisted – until the brain probe had been utilised to exorcise the fear from my mind. It had not been a total success, but I was reluctant to admit it, and therefore have to repeat the exercise. I did not wish to face the doctor again.