To anyone who reads through the whole thing, I thank you.
Prologue
“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand your game,” Dala grumbled, digging her talons into the supple wood of the toddlers crib, leaving a trail of archaic patterns in her wake.
“What don’t you understand?” Theol barked through venom-soaked fangs as he eyed the small child through the flimsy bars of her crib.
Dala spun away from the bundle of flesh and pressed her back against the wall defiantly. “Well, why one so young? That thing can’t be more than two summers aged. It’s not like she’ll even be able to fight your magic.”
“That’s precisely the idea, dear Dala.” Her black eyes examined him suspiciously, expecting a more extensive explanation. He didn’t deny her the knowledge and continued, “I won’t finish her off just yet. We’ve watched men at the peaks of they’re existence fall under the insanity of the Nightmares in less than a fortnight. We’ve watched the brightest minds of the times fall under our magic without so much as a whimper of a fight.
“But I won’t do the same with this one. We’ll make it gradual. Lend time to consumer her. I want to build her up and watch her fall rather than simply pushing her off the edge and waiting for her to splatter on the ground below.”
“Really, Theol, you are the master of your craft,” Dala praised, seeing the perversion in his plan. She took a single lengthy stride to stand at the hunched demon’s side and hungrily eye the babe along side him.
The magic was so simple. The whisk of his aged hand over the child’s face and ancient words muttered in a nameless language that had been forgotten by all but a few.
“May this be your last restful night for you will soon know a new sleep,” Theol growled under his breath. “Dala dear, will you hunt for me tonight, I think I shall watch the little one.”
Under any other circumstance, Dala would have spit back that it wasn’t her job to feed him, but she was far too awed by the twisted workings of her master’s mind to do anything but nod her head and fade out of sight to prowl the dreamscape.
Theol stood by the crib until dawn, humming long-forgotten lullabies. She stirred only once, curled her pudgy hands into fists, and continued sleeping.
Three Years Later
“Honey, what have you got there?” Alice Flincher took the picture from her daughter’s giving hands and immediately pulled back, revolted. Without a second glance at the drawing, she pressed it face down on the table.
Noel’s helpless green eyes gazed up at her mother, shocked by her response. “Is it bad mommy?” She was on the brink of tears.
“Oh, of course not,” Alice consoled her. “But tell me why you would draw something so…scary?” she hesitated, searching for a word the five-year-old would understand.
“That’s the girl in my dreams,” Noel took the picture off the table and pointed to the shadow-black figure; the one with a severed head in her hand. “And that’s her teacher, like Ms. Olsen at school. Only he doesn’t teacher about letters and numbers.” And again she pointed, this time to a haggard monster with a steeply hunching back and fangs dripping in blood. “He says he’s the Master of Nightmares. Mommy, what’s a nightmare?”
Alice looked down at her daughter and tried to understand the curious look on her little girl’s face. “Well, a nightmare is like a dream. But it’s a very scary dream. Noel, have you dreamt about these two before?”
“Sometime I don’t see them when I’m dreaming but they talk to me when I’m asleep. Dala can be mean sometimes but Theol makes her behave.”
And at that moment, the front door opened.
“Alice, you in the dinning room?” Robert called from the hall. There was a thud as he set his suitcase down on the hardwood floor.
“Yeah,” she called back then looked down at Noel. “Honey, why don’t you run upstairs and play for a while okay.”
Noel nodded, a big smile playing across her face, and into the living room and up the stairs. Robert plowed into the room seconds later, bent down to kiss his wife, then took a seat at the table along with her.
They were silent for a while, just looking at each other. Alice, concerned. Robert, confused. “Is something wrong?”
She nodded once. “It’s Noel. I’ve heard her talking about them before but never like she did today. Back when those dreams of hers started they were nameless and – I assumed – harmless. Just imaginary friends. But she drew this awful picture just now. One of them was holding a severed head and the other had fangs dripping with blood. I’m worried about her.”
Robert wasn’t sure about what he should say just looked at his wife.
“You don’t have a clue, do you?” Alice answered for him.
“I don’t.”
Only Days Later
“Mrs. Flincher.”
Alice held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, her hands busily drying dishes. “This is she.”
“It’s Ms. Olsen-”
“Did something happen to Noel?” Alice asked, setting down the frying pan she had been drying.
“No, no, nothing has happened. I need to talk to you about her though. Now, I realize its normal for children to tell stories, but today, I heard Noel talking about someone called Theol and another one, Dala. By her discription, they don't sound like the most childish of imaginary creature. Did you know anything about this? ”
“I’m afraid so, and I’m worried about it. She says that they’re a part of these nightmares that she has,” Alice considered mentioning the picture but thought better of it. “I’ll talk to her about it when she gets home,” she reassured.
“Okay then, good-bye Mrs. Flincher.”
“Good-bye Ms. Olsen.”
That Afternoon
“Mom, look what we made today,” Noel called, running into the dinning room. Alice was sitting at the table, sorting through the checkbook.
“Oh isn’t that cute.” She took the paper-plate lion from Noel, careful of the golden yarn mane and the pink felt nose. “We’ll have to put him on the fridge.”
“I’ll do it,” Noel squealed, taking the lion from her mothers hands and rushing into the kitchen. She returned, empty handed, and sat down in the chair across the table where a notebook and some crayons lay waiting.
“Honey, Mr. Olsen called today.”
Noel looked up, stunned. “Why? I wasn’t naughty, promise.”
“It wasn’t because you were naughty. She said you were talking about the people in your dreams,” Alice looked down at her daughter seriously.
“Michael at school told me that he had a bulldog who was meaner than anything but I told him that Dala was meaner than his bulldog,” Noel began. “But Michael says that Dala doesn’t count cause she’s not real but I said that if she wasn’t real, than neither was Theol. And then he said I was lying.”
“Baby, I hate to tell you this but they aren’t real. Dala and Theol, they’re just make believe.”
“I’m sorry mommy.”
Alice was shocked. “What are you sorry for?”
“I lied. I’m sorry. I’ll never say anything about Dala or Theol again. Promise.”
Ill have to read on!). Things like the drawing with crayons also add to authenticity. I especially liked the paper-plate lions. I made those at school when i was 5!!
