Dreamweaver

Chapter 1

I’m not sure why I’m writing this down.

After all, who do I expect to read it, much less believe it? No one knows where I am, or any of the amazing, terrifying things that have happened to me lately.

Maybe I’m just trying to keep my sanity, and maybe, maybe when I see the whole story written out I’ll be able to tell why it had to be me.

Why me?

Why did my life have to be turned upside down? Why did my future have to become so desolate, so uncertain? I have no special talents, no skills to speak of. I’m just a normal guy.

So why did she have to choose me?

I’m sorry this isn’t making much sense to you, I’ll try to stop ranting. I should start at the beginning, though I’m not entirely sure when that was. I think it all began with the dream.

A swarming fog crept through the crisp night air. I was standing at the edge of some deserted lake, the black waters so still beneath the gathering mist it looked as if a piece of the starless sky had fallen to the earth. It was so peaceful, I didn’t mind that I was alone, until, quite suddenly, I wasn’t.

There was a young woman, a girl even, standing atop the water on the other end of the lake. No, it couldn’t be, I thought drowsily, it must be the fog playing tricks with my eyes. Very soon I realized I had not been mistaken. For a moment both she and I stood, unmoving and silent. Then she walked, but in a graceful way that seemed to be more of a glide, on top of the darkened waters. The air, now heavily laden with fog, separated before her as she approached, as though she were not a living person but a beautiful figurehead on some invisible ship, cutting through the sea of mist. I waited, almost indifferent to the impossible sight.

I felt vaguely content, certainly not afraid, but my senses were dulled, as if I were drugged. With dreary eyes I gazed at her, and as she approached a steady drumbeat throbbed through my head, matching the rhythm of her step. The hypnotic beat grew stronger, transfixing me, spreading its vibrations throughout my body. I found myself walking to the shore, then wading slowly into the water, always matching my steps to the rhythm of the invisible drum. When my irrepressible limbs had waded me far enough that the icy waters grazed my knees, the woman stopped. So did the drumbeat.

She was probably fifteen yards away, near the middle of the lake. Though I could not make out details, I could tell that she was breathtakingly beautiful. She wore a simple tribal gown, a tunic of embroidered tan material that extended to her knees. In fact, she looked quite similar to a young Indian girl, with mahogany skin and a cloud of jet black hair. While I mused I realized I had stopped as well. I also noticed that the girl had began to sink.

It was not the thrashing, desperate sinking of a drowning person, but rather a calm and controlled descent into the lake. Still I watched as the top of her head submerged under the surface, leaving but a single ripple to travel across the dark waters. It grew larger and larger, until it broke as a small wave around my knees. Another ripple started, grew and broke. Another followed, and then another.

Each time the resulting wave grew larger. My legs were immobilized, seized by some independent power. Soon the waves crashed over my head, drenching me in cold water. The force of the waves soon pulled me under the surface. The spell immobilizing my body broke, and I flailed and screamed, clawing at the dark waters, until a piece of hard debris knocked from me the little air left in my lungs.

“Nicholas”

A voice reverberated through me, through my mind, my body, the very essence of my soul.

“Nicholas”

Such an alluring voice… It was not obviously male or female, but dripped with a sense of overwhelming, all-consuming power.

“Nicholas, breathe.”

I didn’t hesitate, didn’t think. I could only obey. I breathed.

But my lungs were not filled with the expected onrush of a cold liquid death. Instead my aching body was rewarded with some much-needed air.

By now all was dark, and I realized I could no longer feel water around me. I couldn't feel anything, actually. I was blind, mute, deaf to everything but the single voice, and without a sense of touch. I had become nothing more than a floating brain.

The sense of peace that had taken me earlier again returned. I felt I could lay in this darkness forever and be content.

But it was not to be.

Without warning, her face floated above me. Now that I could see her clearly, I realized she was a world of contrasts. Unimaginably beautiful, but somehow wrong. Her mass of black tresses drifted at once eerily and seductively around her face. She looked as familiar as a dear friend, yet as strange and foreign as an unexplored planet. And her eyes-such eyes!-contained such madness that you could only keep your own sanity by staring into their dark depths.

Again the voice shot through my head, more insistent now, and though her full lips did not move, but kept their demon’s smile, I knew it was her who spoke.

“Will you find me?”

It was a question, but I made no choice to voice the answer that spilled from my mouth. “Yes”

“Will you free me?”

Again my lips deceived me, consenting to her plea with a will of their own.

She laughed manically, and her features grew darker, sharper. I wanted to turn away but couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t look away from the glowing numbers on my alarm clock.

I sat up quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. The same dream had haunted me for over a week now, and I was dreading the long nights more and more every passing day. Wiping the cold sweat from my forehead, I vaulted the edge of my bunk bed and landed hard on the wooden floor. Ouch. Gotta love such a wonderful start to the day.