Tuesday, June 14, 2005

   Nameless Part I
A certain Frightening Dream: I like to call it

Nameless

[Note: this dream happened in five parts over a span of five days back-to-back. Don’t ask me how or why…all I did was fight through it o~O]

Ok, basically I am some sort of agent working for an organization that deals with special crimes involving extreme brutality. As a child, my parents were killed and horribly torn apart by person or persons unknown and somehow I was the only survivor. All the ‘killer(s)’ did to me was scar my left eye and left cheek. A half circle runs from one corner of my eye to the next with a single line running from this down to my chin.
I was taken in by my uncle (and only relative) who is a medieval historian and professor at a local university. He ended up home schooling me because the events in my parent’s death had traumatized me so. After his death, I eventually went into law enforcement school and wound up at the current job for solving such cases with startling accuracy. As if I saw what happened, and who did it, in order to find my parent’s killer. (Not like that Medium show, much more vivid and detailed.)
Somehow I know all this background about myself before the dream even begins, almost as if they are real memories…

The Dream starts off like this:

One day a man shows up in my office, my replacement partner. I knew he was coming, and as I sat behind the dark mahogany desk I scowled at the closed blue blinds of my office window. The room is mostly dark, the pre-storm clouds moving in the spring-like outside. He is tall and lithe, blonde hair that falls around his head in spikes, and deep purple eyes, (Of course, I have dark red hair, green eyes like I do in real life, but I‘m taller and my body feels tense like stone. I‘m wearing blue tactical pants, black boots and a back half-sleeve shirt.)
As he sits in the chair across the desk, in similar clothing, he smiles trying not to look at the scar on my eye:
“My name’s Kale, I’ve heard you were a badass, but I don’t believe everything I hear.”
Antipathetic I turn away from the window and to him, replying in a dark and serious tone:
”I don’t care if God sent you here, I don’t have a partner and I never will again. Tac-Squad boys claim to be hard, but even if you could prove to me that you came from hell, I wouldn’t take you. Transfer out of this division, go anywhere, do anything else, but do not stay here.”
He looks at me, then grins, “Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have anything to fear, I promise not to cramp your style, I’m just along for the ride.”
I toss a folder at him - containing the photographs of what happened to my last partner, and the partner before that. Not a pretty site, what was left of them anyways…
His mouth twitches in disgust and I whisper:
“Fear is lost to me, Kale. I have gained the fancy of something rather nasty. You’re just another meat sac for the slab, and he always has my best interests at heart.”
Kale coolly tosses the folder back onto the desk: “I heard about what happened to them, my condolences, it must have been hard on you.”
“Funny,” I say emotionlessly, “That’s what my last partner said.”
A call suddenly comes in on the radio - they need me at a double homicide - bodies missing.
I leave and Kale follows - not in my car.

We get to a small one story, Ranch style, brick house and the scene inside is gruesome. The living room is covered in blood and gore. The couple who lived there is missing, cars still in the driveway, keys on the counter, no sign of break in, or robbery, or that the bodies were moved outside of the house, motive and suspect(s) unknown.
What is known: - someone definitely died here.
CSI is crawling all over the place and Kale starts with the Rookie routine of checking out the witnesses, and the officers first on the scene.
But they saw nothing.
No one ever does…
…except me….

Already my guts start to squirm and I can feel where it was, smell the pleasure and ecstasy of the kill, I see it’s eyes, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, then I follow the feeling to the bathroom.
It’s absolutely spotless and smells like air fresheners.
Yet, my eyes focus on the tub. I grab a black light from one of the CSI boxes and wave it over the porcelain, and the claw marks show clear as day. The Sickness grips me (I can‘t really describe it any other way. I just get this terrible feeling like I‘m really sick, like the killer is trying to suck me into itself and it‘s not too pleasant.), but I fight it down and walk outside to the utility truck and grab a sledgehammer. Kale spots me as I walk back inside and follows me slightly perturbed. But I don’t notice or feel anyone as I head back to the bathroom, almost robotic and tunnel vision-ed.
I can’t fight off the Sickness anymore as I raise the hammer and bring it down on the edge, shattering a chunk of the rim and alerting the attention of everyone in the house. Again the hammer falls, tears almost coming to my eyes as Kale rushes up behind me and tries to pry the weapon from my hands.
“What are you doing?!” he blurts in alarm.
I shout and toss him back out into the hallway and into the arms of several CSI’s, screaming:
“They’re here! It put them here!”
“What?! There isn’t a spot in here, the CSI’s already swept it with a fine tooth comb!”
Undaunted and shaking, I swing the heavy hammer up and strike the basin with a cry of fury-
-and thick red blood begins to ooze from the cracks…
Kale and the other officers present gawk in disbelief as the hammer slips from my hands and thumps to the floor. I bend over the sink turning on the faucet and splash water over my face as the CSI’s move in to finish what I started. I grab a towel feeling the Sickness fade and mutter,
“The woman is missing her legs and several internal organs. You won’t find the man’s brain, his torso muscles or half his spine. Both are missing their left hands and eyes.”
Without glancing back I brush past a still stunned Kale, and head for my Jeep.
“Wait… wait-a-second!” he calls after me. “How did you know that? How did you know the bodies were there?” I walk across the lawn with him right on my heels. “The place was clean! Are you psychic or something?”
I ignore him and walk around and climb into the Jeep and he climbs in the passenger side. “Talk to me!”
“Get out!” I glare.
“I just want-” but he doesn’t get a chance to finish. I grab his shirt collar and open my door, drag his thrashing body across my lap and toss him from the vehicle. His body somersaults while I slam the door shut and start the Jeep.
“Listen to me when I tell you this,” I lean out the window as he spits sod from his mouth. “You stay as far away from me as you can.”
Before Kale can protest, I peal out of the driveway and head down the road still fuming.

As I drive past the trees and sidewalks, my blue Jeep moving beneath the pre-storm sky, the images start flooding in:
I see them, watching a movie, and it watching them through the shadows of a closet. I feel it’s lust for them, the excitement, I feel my body twitch with him in anticipation. My fingers grip the wheel and beads of sweat form across my body- I try to fight it, swallow it down, purge the visions from my mind, but it won’t let go. The Sickness crushes me again like a dark fist. I pull over abruptly into a park service road and slam on the breaks amidst the trees. My body lurches and I cry out gripping my head.
He was first:
The man fell beneath its lust as it tore gleefully into his torso. She was a challenge. Throwing everything she could at it, trying to fend it off as the man screamed and screamed in the final throes of his death. Everything that came its way wouldn’t stop it, it just made it happier.
Then it leapt on her-
“AaaaAH!… Get out- out of MY HEAD!” I writhed behind the wheel. “s-STOP it!”
-With a swipe, the first spray of crimson stained the walls, but it was careful and precise enough not to cause death. Death…gift….not yet… She wailed under its weight, a pair of jaws gripped her head to stabilize it. Fear was so thick and ripe it made my stomach lurch. Then the bladed finger flicked into view with a lethal and gut churning sound, moving in a slow arc toward her face. Darkness and shadow suddenly writhed about me as I fought in vain, it smothered me like I was drowning. I watched her eye rove wildly about, her screams and struggles only enticing it, but nothing prepared me for the feeling of the fingered-blade grating against her eye bone and the bloodcurdling scream that pierced my soul.
“-Serrafina!”
My eyes shot open as it called to me, and I screamed in terror at the shadowy evil around me. The door to the Jeep shot open and I spilled out on my hands and knees after it, clutching my stomach and gasping for air as if I was dying myself. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto the soft grass. The waves of Sickness began to fade with each breath I took, as I swallowed my urge to regurgitate. A pale ray of sunlight cut through the clouds and warmed the darkness that I felt away. The smell of fresh air replaced the stench of fear and death. It left me slowly…
Suddenly, I jerked my head back towards the Jeep and looked inside:
Nothing
No Shadows.
No Darkness.

My fists and teeth clenched in wrath.
“…I’ll find you…huh…“ I whispered past my teeth. “I’ll find you muther-f-er…and when I do, I’m putting my boot in your ass! Ugh-huh!”
I dropped forward just a bit to gather my strength, and tried to focus on breathing.

“Units 4-7, 12-14, 7-7-1, and all other available units in the district area, respond.” my radio crackled and the mouthpiece fell onto the seat startling me. “10-56 in progress at the Aurora Museum, repeat 10-56 in progress, shots fired, back-up needed.”
[ This next part has a lot of Police codes that I learned while working for the Police force near my hometown: a 10-56 is an armed robbery in progress; 10-20 is ‘what‘s your position/location‘; 10-40 is repeat. 10-60 what the hell just happened?]
I stood up easily and climbed back into the Jeep as the message repeated, revving up the engine and pulling back onto the main road with sirens and lights blaring.
“This is 7-7-1 enroot, Dispatch.” I said into the mouthpiece.
“10-4, 7-71.”
I latched the mouthpiece back into place, and turned right.
“Boot in the ass...after I take care of this,” I mumbled to no one in particular. Then I got a funny feeling and picked the mouthpiece back up and squeezed the button on the side.
“7-7-1 to Dispatch, patch me into the Commander at the 10-56, Clearance code: Firefly.”
“10-4”
The com. clicked over to a lot of static.
“This is unit 7-7-1 calling Commander. Commander, respond.”
“..CKKZZttt!…is Commander, I read you 7-7-1.. Ffzzzt”
My brow furrowed, “10-20 on all present-”
“ SWAT’s holding back in the parking lot, Tac -Squad 6- ZZfffZt!! - inside…”
“Say that last part again Commander, 10-40...”
“20 on Tac-6 is inside the building cornering the 5 perpetrators.”
“What are their orders?”
“Fzzt..-o hold position until backup arrives, and maintain lockdown- fffzzzZ…what the hell is-”
Suddenly there was a scream and something like an explosion in the background. The radio crackled hysterically.
I cringed: “Commander, 10-60.….” no response, just static, “Commander, 10-60! Anyone! Come in!”

Alarmed and furious, I tossed the mouthpiece aside and slammed my foot on the pedal, but even as I raced past everything, I had a terrible feeling I was already too late…


So, ^-^
Whaddaya think?
Should I post chapter 2, or leave it just a dream?



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