Daydreams and Shadows

“I’ll love you until daydreams and shadows flee away.”

Liam awoke with a start, confused and shaken.  Pale moonlight filled the room, the barren oak trees outside his window casting ominous shadows of skeletal hands on the floorboards beneath him.  He got up from the antique bed and paced the floor; his heart pounding so fiercely he felt it might come out of his chest.  It was her voice again. He kept reassuring himself it was only a dream, though it was the same dream he had experienced each night since he agreed to stay at the old Victorian house. 

Liam ran his hand through his shaggy black hair and leaned up against the window gazing up at the full moon, which seemed larger than usual.  Something about the night sky always seemed to calm his nerves, although tonight he was having trouble relaxing.  He thought back to the letter he had received two weeks earlier, requesting his presence at the old mansion.  He had received the letter by messenger and knew only that it was sent by a woman known as “the Duchess”.  She had said she was a distant relative and needed someone to watch her beloved home while she was away, and would give him $500,000.00 for his trouble.  Liam had a vague memory of his mother speaking about an eccentric great aunt who referred to herself as royalty, and since he needed the money badly he quickly agreed to the request before realizing there was no indication given to him as to how long he would be in her service.  His need for money had been the only thing keeping him in the old house since he had arrived, each night his nerves becoming more and more unsettled. 

As Liam gazed absently up at the moon a movement on the ground below his window caught his eye.  He looked into the shadows below and let out a small gasp.  Looking up at him was a woman, her long red hair flowing in the breeze.  She appeared to glow under the moonlight, her garnet mouth a sharp contrast to the paleness of her skin.  The sheer gown she wore clung to her body in the icy wind as she stood staring up at him from the ground with eyes that seemed to bore into his soul.  He backed away from the window and ran down the spiral staircase, almost falling when one of the old stairs broke beneath him, towards the front door that separated him from this mysterious woman.  Forcefully he opened the door, the woman still standing where she had been, now looking directly into his eyes.  Liam was struck by how beautiful she was; yet something about her eyes seemed lost and hollow.  She reached out her slim, pale hand and gently touched Liam’s face.  Her hand was like ice and Liam recoiled from her touch, though he immediately regretted his reaction.  Silently she stood studying him as she put her hand down to her side and without a word she turned and walked into the woods.

“Wait!” Liam shouted after her, his words echoing back to him in a desperate plea.  He ran after her and caught a glimpse of her long white gown before she disappeared behind a grove of dead trees. Determined to find her Liam made his way through the forest, dead branches piercing his bare feet causing a crimson trail to be left behind with every step he took.  He did not seem to notice the pain, so great was his desire to catch up to this elusive woman.  He stumbled through the forest for hours, searching in vain for her until finally the faint glow of morning descended upon him and he reluctantly gave up his pursuit.  Wearily he made his way back to the mansion, vaguely aware of the pain from his bruised and bloodied feet as he climbed the marble steps leading to the entrance. Exhausted, he stumbled into an overstuffed chair in the main room and quickly fell into a fitful sleep.


When Liam awoke, the usually dreary main room was awash with the orange hues of the setting sun.  His feet were swollen and crusted with blood from the previous night’s journey, the pain now so severe he feared he wouldn’t be able to walk to the bathroom to wash them.  Carefully Liam pulled himself up and gingerly made his way up the stairs to the large master bathroom.  As he soaked in the warm bath his thoughts returned to the previous night’s events.  “Had the woman even been real?” he wondered.  He closed his eyes and could see her face gazing sadly back at him, her deep green eyes beckoning him to her side.  Liam opened his eyes and knew in his heart she had not been a dream.  She had come to him for a reason, and he knew with certainty she would come to him again.   

Night had descended when Liam finally emerged from his bath.  He wrapped his wounded feet in gauze bandages, the pain now becoming unbearable with even the slightest touch.  He lit a candle and walked back down the spiral staircase, careful to avoid the broken step from the night before.  With each step he took his feet burned in agony, his wounds opening again leaving pools of fresh blood beneath him.  Hot wax from the candle he held dripped onto his right foot and he cursed his great aunt under his breath for not believing in the electric light.  Liam longed to dull the searing pain and remembered seeing an old bottle of brandy on a shelf in the library.  “Anything to numb the senses,” he thought as he carefully made his way through the main hallway, the candle casting an eerie glow on the pictures of long deceased relatives that lined the walls.  He found the library at the end of the hallway, pushing open the heavy oak door, which creaked loudly, breaking the unnerving silence.  Carefully he placed the candle in a holder, which hung next to the door, and gave the room a quick scan.  A portrait of a beautiful woman stared blankly down at him from above the fireplace and Liam imagined her sitting in front of a raging fire sipping her brandy and reading one of the many novels that neatly lined the bookshelves. 

Liam searched the bookshelves and found the brandy on the highest shelf next to the fireplace.  Grabbing a stepladder he carefully climbed to the shelf, removing the amber elixir from its spot and knocking an old book to the floor. “ Damn,” he thought as he climbed carefully down the ladder.  The book lay face down on the floor in a cloud of dust and Liam feared the pages might be damaged from the fall.  “I hope it isn’t expensive,” he thought as he picked up the old book, inspecting its yellowing pages as he sat and opened the bottle of brandy. Unceremoniously he took a swig from the dusty bottle, grimacing as the alcohol burned his throat. The warming effect of the liquid flowed through his body in waves, dulling the pain of his throbbing feet a bit and making his head feel as though it were detaching from his body.

Liam stared down at the old book’s cover; “O’Leary Family” the writing stated in gold calligraphy.  “A family album”, Liam thought to himself, opening the ancient cover carefully and studying its yellowing pages.  Written in a fine hand were names of past relatives alongside dates of births, marriages and deaths.  The first entry had been made back in 1857 and had been of the birth of a son, Sean Patrick O’Leary.  In one simple line his life was summed up; born August 3, 1854, married Fiona Kathleen Finnigan June 25, 1879, and died January 10, 1895.  It appeared Fiona, Sean’s wife, had died only a year before. A space was next to the entry as though a picture had once been pasted there, but all that remained was a bit of yellowing glue.


“He had been a young man when he died, not even 35 yet,” Liam mused.  For hours Liam continued leafing through the old book.  Some of the entries had photos carefully pasted next to them, others did not.  Liam noticed that the handwriting of the author never changed, it was the same in 1857 as it was in 1985.  He also noticed that no male in the O’Leary family lived past the age of 35.  “Wonderful”, he thought, “according to family history I’ll be dead before the week ends”.  Liam took another swig of brandy and continued looking through the book.  When at last he came to the last page he felt no pain at all, the alcohol had completely taken over his body.  With bleary eyes he read the last entry:  Liam Robert O’Leary, born April 21, 1973, died July 15, 2005.  Liam stared blankly at the page.  Carefully he read the words over again, not fully comprehending their meaning.  “Is this some kind of joke?” he thought angrily, throwing the book across the room.  He got to his feet too quickly and stumbled, falling hard against the floor.  Liam lay on the hard, cold floor laughing hysterically.  The brandy had taken its toll on him causing the room to spin wildly each time he attempted to get up. 

“I’ll love you until the daydreams and shadows flee away,” came a woman’s voice from inside the library.

Liam stopped laughing, forcing himself to sit up.  The room continued to spin and Liam fought the wave of nausea that seemed to turn his insides to liquid.  “Who’s there?!” he demanded shakily.  The only reply Liam heard was a long, drawn out sigh from the hallway.  Liam struggled to his feet, grasping the stepladder for balance.  The pain was beginning to creep back into his body and he flinched as he slowly made his way to the door.  By the time he got to the door the pain had fully returned to his body and he stopped to catch his breath, looking down at his freshly bleeding feet.  There was a yellowed piece of paper sticking out from underneath his left foot and carefully he bent down to pick it up.  It was an old picture of a young man and woman.  Liam turned the picture carefully over and read in the same fine writing seen in the family album the names Sean and Fiona O’Leary.  He looked at the antique photograph again.  Something was very familiar about the woman, though he couldn’t figure out what it was.  Her beauty was breathtaking, though her eyes seemed sad and haunted.  Liam found himself lost in her eyes, as though she were looking deep into his heart and he longed to touch this beautiful woman.

“Forever,” a woman’s voice sighed. 

Liam jumped, dropping the picture to the floor.  He looked around the deserted room and sensed he was not alone.  Liam picked the picture up again, placing it inside a pocket in his robe and left the room as quickly as his feet would allow.  When at last he made his way into the hallway he slumped to the floor, leaning his head against the wall.  The last entry of the cryptic tome came drifting back to his memory: Liam Robert O’Leary died July 15, 2005.  “What is today’s date?” Liam asked aloud to no one in particular.  He had lost track of time since he had been in the old house, one day seemed to run into the other out here all by himself.  He thought back, and seemed to remember hearing fireworks somewhere in the distance.  Had that been a few days ago, maybe last week?  He couldn’t remember.  Panic began to creep into his heart and he closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to scream.  “Maybe I’m going insane,” he thought before losing consciousness.

The smell of lilacs and an icy chill drifted over Liam as he lay on the hallway floor, stirring him from his sleep.  He opened his eyes and saw the figure of a woman standing over him, her long red hair cascading over one shoulder.  It was the same woman from the night before and he jerked himself up, stumbling to his feet.  She looked him in the eyes, a faint smile upon her face and slowly backed away down the hallway. 

“Wait!” Liam called after her, “Who are you?”

The woman never said a word, but raised her hand and motioned for him to follow.  Liam limped after her leaving a trail of blood in his wake.  His desire for this beautiful woman drowning the pain he felt.  The woman continued down the hallway and through the front room, her long white gown floating behind her.  She stopped briefly at the front door as if waiting for Liam to catch up, then she walked down the marble steps that led to the garden.  Liam struggled to follow her, trying desperately to catch up to the mysterious enchantress.  Through the woods she led him again, his feet now resembling bloody stumps.  “Please, stop!” Liam shouted again, though whether she heard him or not he couldn’t tell.  Deeper into the woods she led him, stopping now and then to make sure he was following.  Finally, she stopped at a clearing up ahead and turned to face Liam.  The moonlight filtered through the trees, giving her a subtle glow and Liam was once again struck by how beautiful she was.  As he approached her, she turned and walked into the clearing.

Liam followed the woman into the clearing, which turned out to be the family cemetery.  The moon shone bright above them and he could make out the ancient writing on the tombstones.  He followed her through the overgrown cemetery, his heart beating wildly in his chest with anticipation.  Finally she stopped near a large monument, her back to Liam.  Liam approached where she stood, ready for her to retreat from him once again.  She didn’t move, continuing to stare ahead as if Liam was not there.  Liam looked closely at the monument.  It was unlike any he had ever seen before, instead of a statue of an angel standing guard over the grave it was of a woman, kneeling in grief, her head in her hands.  Though it was just a statue he could feel the sorrow emanating from it, sending chills through his body.  Something was written at its base, and Liam knelt closer to read the inscription. “Until daydreams and shadows flee away” the inscription said.  Liam sat back, startled.  It had been the same thing he had heard in his dreams each night, the same phrase he had heard just hours before in the library.  Something else was written further down and Liam’s curiosity got the better of him.  Slowly he pulled himself towards the monument.  In small writing under the inscription read “Fiona Kathleen O’Leary, Born May 1, 1862 Died 1894.  Forever we will search for thee.”

Fiona looked down at Liam and smiled, revealing long, sharp teeth.  Liam let out a scream as her beautiful face contorted into that of a demon, her eyes now glowing red with hatred.  She let out a long, shrill laugh as she bent down and grabbed him with her cold hand, her talons digging deep into his chest.  Liam tried to fight, but her strength overwhelmed him and she bit into him, sinking her fangs deep into his neck.  He felt the blood draining from his body, and as darkness engulfed him he realized he was dying.

The silver moonlight filtered down upon Liam who now lay in a wasted heap, the blood all but drained from his body. Through glazed eyes he stared up at the dimming moon, too weak to move or even cry out. As death came upon him he heard a woman’s voice whisper sweetly in his ear, “Until the daydreams and shadows flee away, I will love thee.”