Dark Dream

Dark Dreams, Part 4: Boneyard

Once he felt composed enough to return, he slipped out of the bathroom, feeling the darkness of the room outside as if it were awaiting his return. Fear blossomed in his paranoid mind as he rushed through the cluttered interior.

He found the door still locked. Not real, he thought with relief, thinking about the long-fingered creature that had stood behind him at the mirror.

A rustling noise came from behind. The key slipped from his hand, and he bent down to find it. His hand searched blindly along what he knew to be worn linoleum, and he prayed it hadn't slid under the door.

The worst thing would be for him to knock it under the gap of the door in a panic. He'd never live it down. Working slowly, his fingers blindly brushed across the floor and finally found it.

Unlocking the door, he darted through, just as he heard his name whispered from within. His heart pounded as he went through the same gut-wrenching process of locking it behind him. Sweat beaded his forehead.

With his brow pressed firmly against the solid door, he heard a scratching noise that sounded like a frustrated teacher clawing a blackboard.

"Charley!"

He jumped, despite himself. It was Steve, one of the other bouncers. "Do you have to sneak up on people, Steve?"

"Sorry, mate, this place gives me the creeps too. I hear there are bodies buried under the main dance floor." Steve gave a matter-of-fact look and pulled his shoulders back in readiness for an expected argument.

Charley always thought Steve's bouncer suit looked a couple of sizes too small. Maybe it was the biggest size the management could find for his overly large build or he'd found himself caught out in the rain while wearing it.

"I wouldn't believe everything you hear," he said, noticing the echo of his voice and not quite believing his own words as they came back at him.

There probably were dead bodies in here, as well as in the grounds outside. How they'd acquired a licence to turn a church or chapel into a fetish club was a mystery to him. He'd heard that it had just been a standard nightclub at first, so he guessed that it was a natural progression to turn the place into a fetish club. Seeing a church converted into a mere playground must have been quite a draw. They were a colourful lot, always looking for something new and exciting to satisfy their jaded tastes.

"Jennet sent me to find you. Now that I have, I think I'll take a leak. Do you have the key?"

"Sure." He handed the key, noting that his hand still had a slight tremor.

Steve took the key and opened the door. The darkness was the same, with no boxes out of place that he could see. "Someone needs to fix that light; someone's going to trip and break their necks one of these days. See you in a bit."

"Yeah, take care in there, Steve. Hey, maybe they ran out of space and put some bodies under that floor too?"

"Do you think?"

"Na, only kidding," he admitted, trying not to think too hard on what might be under the floors.

"Hey, it's not funny. Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll keep the door open. If anyone rushes me, I'll send them back to the stone age!" Steve crept theatrically into the room, a big grin across his face.

"You do that, Steve, and remember to get their names so we can compare them against the tombstones outside."

"Will do, Charley. I always get my victim's name!" he said cheerily, disappearing out of sight. He reappeared by the bathroom door, his own hand around his neck. His arm hidden behind the door, he contorted his face as if he were being pulled to his death.