Dream-Hunters - Chapter Four

A wind rippled across the prairie, coaxing stalks from the earth, drifting them away on the breeze. John stood waist-deep in the tall grass, unsure of where to turn. All around him was a sea of high auburn grain, swaying as the air blew across it. The sun shone fervently down, casting the world in a brilliant luster.

Where was he? The last thing he remembered was Mr. Oracle’s sword slashing down. And now he was here….it couldn’t be….a dream?!?

He touched a hand to his face. No mask. Where was it? Maybe this wasn’t a dream….

“So, John.” A voice came from behind him, accompanied by a rustle of grain. A luminous white knight was standing behind him, clad in full armor. A visor hid his face, but his sword was all too familiar. Silas folded his arms. “What happened to them?”

“Matthew? And Alfie?” John wasn’t so sure he knew, himself.

“Of course. Who else?” John looked up, as the voice who had spoken was not Silas’s.

What he saw was an angel. Sophie was adorned in royal blue battle armor, drifting slowly down from the sky. Her giant, snowy wings spread wide, blocking out the sun, bestowing her form with a golden corona. 

She touched down lightly in the field of bronze amidst a curtain of feathers. “It’s no use hiding it. I can sense Alfie’s aura from your body.” Drawing a lance, she thrust the tip beneath his chin. “So answer me this, you bastard. What the hell did you do?”

John eyed the spear beneath his chin in shock. In the blink of an eye, the kind, jubilant girl he had met on the street had vanished. In her place was a hardened valkyrie, sullen and carrying a very pointy weapon. “I-I didn’t do anything,” he gulped. “It wasn’t me. Alfie gave me his mask before he died.”

“Died?” Silas inquired. “He’s still alive, you know, but only just.”

“He turned into a ray of light and flew away. That’s what happened.”

Silas rubbed the chin of his helmet. “Ok. So, what ‘killed’ Alfie?”

Pushing the tip of Sophie’s lance down with a nervous chuckle, John began to explain what had happened, from the spider’s appearance to Chaser’s farewell. Silas contemplated this quietly, his face shadowed by his helm. Sophie folded her arms, hanging on each detail.

“And so, here we are now.” John finished his story with a weak grin. “Uh….is that all you wanted?”

Silas and Sophie Oracle both burst into harsh laughter. “Oh, no, John.” Sophie retightened her grip on her lance. “There’s much more to discuss.”

“Indeed. Don’t you want to know why your dreams exist like this, and about the nightmares? Dream-weapons? The King of Fears?” Silas offered.

“In all honesty….no. Can I go back now?” John fingered the wire on his headphones.

“Oh, so you don’t know how to leave? In that case, you’ve no choice.” Sophie grinned mischievously.

“Now, pull up a chair, son, because this is about to change up your mind. Not entirely for the better, by the way.” Silas planted his sword in the dirt, leaning on the handle. “Hm….where should I begin?”

“Nightmares and fear?” Sophie suggested.

“Yeah, that works. So, kid, ever heard of nightmares? Nah, that’s a stupid question. Can you tell me what a nightmare is?”

“It’s a dream that disturbs you, basically,” John rattled out. “Like a scary delusion.”

Silas rolled his hand in front of his mouth, gesturing for John to speak more. “Or?”

“Or….what I saw last night,” John finished, not sure which definition he wanted to believe.

“Pretty much.” Mr. Oracle lifted his sword, resting it on his shoulder. He began walking about, like some bored professor giving a lecture. “Basically, these nightmares live off of people’s fear. The more fearful they are, the more powerful the nightmare. That make sense?”

John nodded opaquely.

“Now, where was I….oh yes, the nightmares. So, if these nightmares got too strong, they could end up controlling humanity from-” -he paused here for dramatic effect- “the shadows. But that isn’t a problem, because we’re around! We’re-” -Silas struck a heroic pose- “The Guardians of Humanity! The Dream-Hunters!”

John gulped dryly. “Uh….that’s nice.”

Silas swung his sword to point it at him. “It’s more than nice, kid. We use the power of dream-relics to combat the darkness, and take back our imaginations!” He held up a fist for added effect.

“What are-”

“Dream-relics are a supernatural phenomenon. That means even we don’t know everything about them,” Sophie said. “This isn’t some deep-rooted legend we’re dealing with. But as far as we do know,” she shrugged, “The dream-relics are able to transform humans into nightmares. Basically, it gives us a method of fighting back, but that’s about all we know. Honestly, we’re learning as we go.”

“And doing a darn good job of it, too!” Silas cried. “I myself wield the Sword of Light, a realm of purity that can banish the darkness!”

Sophie nodded. “I’ve been given the Lance of Judgement, a spear that allows me to pierce the power of evil and seal it away. Matthew was charged with the Bow of Sorrows, which can never miss its designed target. And Alfie-” Sophie cut off, wary of John’s aura.

“The Mask of….Anger?” John guessed.

“Fury, actually.” Silas shrugged. “I’d prefer it if you kept the names straight. But for now, show me what you can do.”

“With what?”

“The Mask, obviously,” Sophie prodded. “The powers of a dream-relic vary between the users. It might be stronger, weaker, or different altogether, all based on the wielder’s emotional composition. Dad’s sword was originally owned by someone else.”

“Quite right,” Silas agreed. “Now, thy rage-” He brandished his giant blade at John. “Have at thee!”

“Oh, please.” A voice rumbled from the very fabric of the dream. “You couldn’t even begin to fathom true power, old man.” Thunderclouds gathered in the sky, sparking with disaster. The sky was painted over with a silver interruption. The beautiful field was washed in a dull ochre.

From the grey mass issued an earth-shaking voice. “Fear what lies in the heart of the storm. For I am-” The thousand nimbuses filled the sky, blocking out the light, all igniting firebolts in unison. “Astraphobia!”

Silas crossed his arms, watching the field of grain bend in the brutal wind. “The fear of thunder and lightning, huh? Interesting.” He nodded to Sophie. “You take this one. Show him your moves.”

“Right.” Taking the cue, Sophie shot up towards the overcast clouds, wings driving against the wind. Raising her spear, she yelled out in a loud voice. “Go, Judgement’s Wrath!” Grunting, she tossed her lance into the heart of the storm. The lightning stopped, and the winds ceased. Then, out from the grey blanket, dropped a rangy man in a rag-vest and patched pants. “Friggin’ dream-relics,” he swore.

“Astraphobia,” Sophie named her lanky opponent, hovering in anticipation. “I am the Lance of Judgement. Turn back now, and you shall be spared.”

“Oh, really?” Astraphobia shoved his hands in his pockets, gritting his yellowed teeth. “Well, sorry, kid, but I’m afraid that this is just too good of an opportunity to miss. Besides, you didn’t think I would come alone, did ya? Lila, come on out!”

The clouds began swirling around Astraphobia. “Let’s show them some real fear, honey!” The storm suddenly dipped into a chaotic funnel. Astraphobia chuckled. “Now then, little Lance of Judgement.” The funnel cloud reached lower and lower, seeking the earth below. “Meet my wife.”

Astraphobia raised his hands to the heavens, as the funnel cloud touched down. “Lilapsophobia!” A tornado suddenly rose up, a twisting snake of devastation rising to consume the prairie. From within the heart of the storm came a maiden in a dainty grey dress, taking Astra’s oily hand. “Hey there, honey,” the maiden said softly. “Need some help?”

“You know it, baby.” Astra brushed back his mangy hair and filled his left hand with lightning. “So, why don’t we teach this little girl some manners?”

“That sounds lovely.” Lila thrust her hands forward, causing the tornado to rip its way towards Sophie, ripping up stalks of grain. Eyes flashing in panic, she retreated, circling around the dark vortex, trying to work a path to Lila.

“Look out!” John’s warning reached her ears just in time. Sophie ducked underneath a blast of lightning that singed a black mark on her armor. “Batter up!” Astra cackled.

Sophie grimaced, avoiding each knife of voltage as Astraphobia tossed them madly into the wind. Some were even caught by the tornado, arcing around to chase her with a mind of their own.

John watched the horrific air ballet from a distance, aghast. “Do something!” he snapped at Silas, who was watching the scene intently.

Mr. Oracle shook his head thoughtfully. “No, can’t do that. This is how she trains, after all. I can’t help her. If you want to do something, feel free to.”

John stopped, wondering if he could. “But you can’t just leave her alone up there!”

“It’s only through hardship that we get stronger. This is her fight.”

They were silent for a moment, watching calmly as the thunder rolled in the sky, and the wind ravaged the landscape.

“You sure you weren’t hitting on her?”

“Shut up!”

“Fine,” Silas relented, shouldering his sword. “I’ll give her a hand.” Glowing with a white aura, he began to rise off of the ground. “Oi, Thunderhead!” he shouted. “How’d you like to be introduced….to my fist!”

Astra boomed loudly, attempting to drown Silas out. “Save your words, you toilet-looking buffoon! I’ll electrocute you!”

“Not if I shred you up first!” Oracle retorted.

“I’ll shock you to death! Then I’ll kill you!”

“I’ll shove my sword up your nose and leave it there!”

“You’ll be begging for mercy when I’m through with you!”

“Tough talk from someone who lives in a grey marshmallow!”

“Old cretin!”

“Electric hillbilly!”

“Senseless imbecile!”

“Beardless hobo!”

This went on for quite some time. Neither one threw a single punch. The women stopped fighting and just stared at the men, whose voices were swelling until they filled the dreamworld. John, meanwhile, was crouching in the field, headphones clasped over his ears. “Shut up,” he groaned. “Just shut up.”

But he couldn’t even hear himself. This had always happened. Always being drowned out….he just wanted to be heard….but other people were louder. Other people spoke faster. Other people had no regard for others.

The entire world was like that, really--a bunch of overstated opinions falling on deaf ears. Nothing really changed.

Maybe this noise could’ve been accepted, once upon a time. But the truth is, offenses can pile up, until the tiniest spark ignites the flames of rage.

The voices were overlapping now. What did it all mean? Endless, meaningless, torment! An infinite discord that enveloped humanity. Silence. Silence the noise.

The Mask of Fury re-formed over his face, sparks of red light surging forth, but he could tell that it was different now. His one goal was to eradicate the senseless noise that had tormented him all his life. The Mask translated that dream, coalescing into the likeness of a screaming devil. This was him. And he would be heard.

“Shut up!” John’s voice blasted apart the clouds, while causing everyone to fall out of the sky. “Just shut up!” His voice seemed louder now, amplified through a demonic megaphone. “I’ll exterminate you,” he growled. Not Silas, of course. But Astraphobia had no right to speak. He had no right to life.

Astra picked himself up from the dirt, groaning. “What the hell was that?” he muttered. He never saw John coming. One moment he was standing, the next he was buried in wheat stalks twenty meters away, with John’s fist in the place of his body a moment ago, still smoking.

Lilapsophobia quickly picked up the hem of her dress, attempting to run through the field. John only took about two second to catch up. “Leave,” he snarled, closing his fist around her neck. “And take the noise with you.”

He tossed her with a grunt, sending her flying back into the bronze ocean. Dazedly picking herself up, the nightmare wove a tornado, one that had a twisting portal at the center. Grabbing Astraphobia by the back of the collar, she turned to drag him through. “Wait,” he muttered.

Lila obediently released him, and Astra stood up wearily. “Oracles,” he said to his audience, spreading his arms, “You better know what you’re getting yourselves into. The King of Fears won’t show mercy when his people are threatened. Are you prepared for war?”

“Look around you,” Silas replied. “We are at war.”

“Is that what you see?” Astra shook his head, smiling. “No. What I see is a group of people trying to exterminate what they don’t understand. Stop pretending you’re better.” He turned, tossing his hand up casually. “Whatever. Coming here to kill you wasn’t the best idea, I’ll admit it. But what you’re doing will not end in happiness. Remember that.” Putting his arm around Lila, they turned and walked through the portal, leaving John with a ruined field, an evil mask, and a lot of questions never to be answered.

---------

Beep. Beep. Beep. The heart monitor hadn’t changed. Alfie was still comatose. Matthew was still in pain.

John checked himself all over, breathing heavily, searching for the mad power that had flooded him a moment ago. But then he remembered, and noticed. Silas and Sophie Oracle were still standing by the hospital beds, staring at him as though he were some subject of research.

“Interesting,” Silas mused.

“Noise and speed? I’ve never seen that before,” Sophie purred.

John’s fist tightened, ready to beat them. He didn’t know exactly why, or how, just that he wanted to.

But a nurse popped in and interrupted his thought. “Excuse me, sir,” she told Silas, “but visiting hours will be ending soon.”

“Ah,” In a flash, Silas’s old mask of jovialness was back on. “Thank you.” He opened the door to let Sophie through, then turned to John. “Well, kid?” He nodded in the direction Sophie had left, smirk consuming his face. “You coming?”

John numbly walked out of the hospital, ignoring everything that crossed his path. He couldn’t say for sure that he wasn’t still dreaming, or that this wasn’t all a dream itself. He wished it were.

Standing outside, he turned to look down the street in awe. Same bustling city, obnoxious sky-scrapers, grey streets, loud people. Taxi horns, businessmen, the trademark grime of city life. So...why was he still afraid? His trembling hands went to his head.

“You know,” Sophie purred calmly, whispering into his ear, “Nobody’s going to believe you. You’ll have to join us sooner or later. I’ll be waiting, John.”

John turned partially to look at her, eyes widening in fear. She was smiling sweetly, her pretty hair shining in the late afternoon sun. She giggled. Swallowing a scream, John turned and ran hurriedly back down the street, with Sophie waving behind him. “Seeya, John!”