Things to Run Away From Really Fast

I watched The Last Exorcism last night. It was boring, and the shaky cam made me nauseous.

I'm sitting in the hotel lobby, because it's really hard to sleep after a dream like this. Everyone else in my party is still in dreamland, of course.

I just have more fun there.

09/06/10

In which I'm confronted by a creepy little demon girl.



The case contains four Books from the Akashic Records. I pull off the lid reverently, and the three of us peer into the box.

I pull out a dusty, leatherbound edition, and turn it over in my hands. The cover is blank, but the unwritten words pop out at me in red script.

To read this text is to risk eternal damnation.

I open the Book without another thought. It falls open to a spot near the center, revealing an illustration of a beast with horns, wreathed in flame. So this is the comprehensive guide to demonology. I skim the Latin text, translating automatically. The demon has a name something like "K'nushekkal". I turn the name over in my mind, not willing to risk saying it out loud.

Actually, I think about it. Just to see what would happen.

I'm more interested in the other two books.

fade

I hear movement, and wake up in a dark room. I feel like it's my bedroom, but the place bears no resemblance to anywhere I've ever lived.

The blankets are bunched up at my feet, and I sit up, bringing my knees up to my chest. I'm looking at my hands, trying to count my fingers, but I can barely see. It's just light enough for everything to take on a dark blue hue. I peer at my fingers, touching each one with the other hand.

"One, two, three, four, five, six." I mutter. The number's not right, but I think I might be seeing things.

No. I can see the pinky digits twisting into each other. I'm dreaming.

I feel a puff of breath on my ear, almost a laugh. "You're a natural," says an otherworldly voice. I can hear the smile in it.

I turn my head slowly to the left, not moving another muscle. A little girl in a white nightdress, maybe twelve years old, is leaning against the side of my bed, grinning up at me. Her irises are such a dark brown that it looks like her eyes are all black. The whites of her eyes seem to glow.

And her nails are digging into the skin of my forearm, holding me in a vice-grip.

Before I can react, she's pulling me through a tear in the dream, straight through the back of a bookshelf. Dark grey mist howls around us, and I can feel her pulling me down. Screams linger at the limits of my hearing, and a tendril of fear slithers through me.

What the hell, I think, giving myself over to the sensation. I want to see where this goes. I close my eyes.

When I open them, I'm standing in the bedroom, across the room from the demon. Her hands are clenched into fists and she's scowling.

"Hm," I say, tilting my head to the side, "You're one of the demons from The Book. I recognize you." Not by sight, of course, but the pages left an imprint.

I cast a glance around the room behind her. Like I thought, the demon is standing next to The Books. That's irritating. I really want to read the other three.

The demon tenses, and I grin as I rush her, landing a hit that sends her sprawling to the side. I keep up my momentum, going to grab the box.

She hits me from the back. I spin around to face her, but she's running at me again. We land on the ground, each trying to pin the other down. I can feel her demonic form at this point, even if I can't see it.

I have her pinned by the arms when I realize that I won't be able to contain her. Calmly, I come to a conclusion. Without a physical weapon, I start to sever her limbs from her body. I pick up an arm and throw it away from the rest of her, cut off her head and kick it away from the rest of the body. I'll scatter the pieces around the house. In the time it takes the demon to pull herself together, I'll have read at least some of the other books.

I'm sawing apart a Barbie doll. Then I wake up.

Scare Factor: 5/10
Rating: 6/10

I'm not crazy.

The dream takes place several years (decades?) into the future.

The Library is falling apart in the absence of a Librarian. The Library itself is a vast compendium of past knowledge, mostly accessible through computers. It's a surprisingly busy place, in this future, filled up with mostly young people, but it's dying.

I already know how this is going to end. I slam open the door of my house (the library is inside) and walk out. It's a well lit night, and snow is falling lightly from the sky.

"OKAY!" I shout at the sky, "I'll be your fucking Librarian!" I pause at the flicker of a curtain across the street. Most people would think I'm yelling at God or something, but I'm actually communicating with a highly advanced intelligence that has full control over... never mind.

A question forms somewhere in my mind, asking what it would be like to stay in this one place for years, contrary to everything that I am (a traveller). Stubbornly, I continue to assert that I'll do the damn job if I have to - time is fluid in this place, anyway.

I don't receive an answer.

---

I'm in a location I dreamed about last spring. It's almost identical. The local aquatic centre is fused with a rock climbing gym, which we don't have here in Quickton.

In the dream, I'm wondering why I thought we don't have any rock climbing here, since we so obviously do (we don't).


Map


Colour of the walls

Silence in the Library. Scare Factor: 2.