Dreamwalkers Book One - The Intruder. A Markland Garraway Paranormal Mystery Thriller, Page 3
Andrew M Stafford
Two weeks earlier
17th September
2.59 a.m.
James was having another nightmare. In his vivid dream the same thing was happening as it had done for the past two nights.
It started with him staring at his reflection in the mirror in the hallway of the familiar house. In the dream he always wore a long black coat, black trousers, black shoes and a black hat with a white band around it. His face was tired and lined for a man of twenty-nine. In his reflection his face looked the same, but at the same time it seemed very different, and he could never fathom out what was different about it.
Each nightmare was the same. He had full control over everything he did, but didn’t understand why he would do such things.
He glanced at the wall clock. It was three a.m. again. It was always three a.m. The second hand nudged twelve, as it had done in the previous nightmares. Other than the ticking of the clock and the quiet hum of the fridge-freezer in the kitchen, everything was silent. Even his footsteps made no sound.
He reached into the pocket of the coat and pulled out a reel of heavy duty black duct tape. He ripped off a six-inch length and gagged his mouth. Again and again for the past two nights he’d gagged his mouth to be sure he couldn’t say a word. From the other pocket he removed a pair of plastic gloves and put them on. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up to the landing.
Next, he was standing outside a bedroom door. He glanced down the stairs. He had no recollection of climbing them. He never did. It was always the same. One minute he was in the hallway and the next he was on the landing outside one of the two bedrooms.
He pushed open the other bedroom door behind which was an empty and neatly made bed. The next part of the dream was what he hated the most. He was certain that if he wanted he could stop it there and then and wake up in his bed, but he never did. He always felt compelled to carry on.
The landing was dimly lit by diffused light from the hallway downstairs. He crept back to the first bedroom and pushed down on the door handle, and with the side of his arm he put his weight against the door. Slowly, it opened. James tried hard not to make it creak, but it always did. He made out the form of a man lying in bed. As always, the creak of the bedroom door caused the man to shift his position. James watched him stretch and yawn. The bedroom was dimmer than the hallway, but James could always make out what was happening. And then, the man would open his eyes, stare at him and sit bolt upright. James would grab a pillow from the floor, move towards the man and smother him until he was dead. This is where the nightmare ended and when James would wake up in his bed soaked in sweat, while his wife slept beside him. But tonight, things would be different, when this nightmare ended, a new one would be begin. A new nightmare that would prove to be very, very real.
Chapter 3
17th September
2.59 a.m.
James was having another nightmare. In his vivid dream the same thing was happening as it had done for the past two nights.
It started with him staring at his reflection in the mirror in the hallway of the familiar house. In the dream he always wore a long black coat, black trousers, black shoes and a black hat with a white band around it. His face was tired and lined for a man of twenty-nine. In his reflection his face looked the same, but at the same time it seemed very different, and he could never fathom out what was different about it.
Each nightmare was the same. He had full control over everything he did, but didn’t understand why he would do such things.
He glanced at the wall clock. It was three a.m. again. It was always three a.m. The second hand nudged twelve, as it had done in the previous nightmares. Other than the ticking of the clock and the quiet hum of the fridge-freezer in the kitchen, everything was silent. Even his footsteps made no sound.
He reached into the pocket of the coat and pulled out a reel of heavy duty black duct tape. He ripped off a six-inch length and gagged his mouth. Again and again for the past two nights he’d gagged his mouth to be sure he couldn’t say a word. From the other pocket he removed a pair of plastic gloves and put them on. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up to the landing.
Next, he was standing outside a bedroom door. He glanced down the stairs. He had no recollection of climbing them. He never did. It was always the same. One minute he was in the hallway and the next he was on the landing outside one of the two bedrooms.
He pushed open the other bedroom door behind which was an empty and neatly made bed. The next part of the dream was what he hated the most. He was certain that if he wanted he could stop it there and then and wake up in his bed, but he never did. He always felt compelled to carry on.
The landing was dimly lit by diffused light from the hallway downstairs. He crept back to the first bedroom and pushed down on the door handle, and with the side of his arm he put his weight against the door. Slowly, it opened. James tried hard not to make it creak, but it always did. He made out the form of a man lying in bed. As always, the creak of the bedroom door caused the man to shift his position. James watched him stretch and yawn. The bedroom was dimmer than the hallway, but James could always make out what was happening. And then, the man would open his eyes, stare at him and sit bolt upright. James would grab a pillow from the floor, move towards the man and smother him until he was dead. This is where the nightmare ended and when James would wake up in his bed soaked in sweat, while his wife slept beside him. But tonight, things would be different, when this nightmare ended, a new one would be begin. A new nightmare that would prove to be very, very real.
Chapter 3
