Subconscious
The things we try to tell ourselves. Are the things we don't want to hear..
I had that dream again, that same dream...
It keeps replaying in my mind every night the
same dream.
I'm walking down a long hallway and I can
hear a faint screaming in the distance always the same screaming
It never changes. and the walls a lined with old portraits of
people, people who looked like they held a place of authority
and other strange paintings that had a 'cult' vibe to them..
But one painting in particular caught my attention.
A painting of a man. No more than that a monster that brought fear
just by looking at him. His face was hidden by a very large
helmet. And he wielded a great sword
covered in blood and rust and he was
surrounded by dead bodies. Some looked like they were being tortured
others looked like a monster chewed them up and spat them out.
Looking at this painting creeped me out. I keep thinking he's going to come out of the
painting any second.
I continued down the hallway the screams stopped suddenly.
almost losing my nerve I stopped dead in my place.
The silence that seemed to go on for an eternity almost making my ears bleed then I faintly heard someone call my name, "Mary?." The voice whispered again. Overcoming my fear I continued on, Finally reaching a dead end.
There was no door or windows the only thing that greeted me was a large mirror,
A mirror with a normal reflection. There was nothing special about it but at the foot of the mirror
was a large pool of blood. Without thinking my hand reached for the red pool
It felt warm to the touch as if it was only just spilt. Then without warning
a sudden chill went down my spine and it spread to my whole body.
Then a scraping sound came from behind me followed by heavy footsteps
then the terror hit me. I turned quickly, I realized I was trapped
the only escape was the way I came and that way also lead to the footsteps heading my way
I had no way of escaping, Then I heard the whisper of my name come from behind me. I turned back to the mirror
only to find the reflection was much different. My reflection was gone instead was replaced by a woman who looked so much like mary but at the same time nothing like her. she was beckoning to me. Like she was telling me to walk through the mirror. She then placed her hand on the mirror then my body acted of it own accord and my hand reached out and touched her hand. Then my head started to hurt like someone was drilling into my skull.
The pain stopped then I realized I was on the other side of the mirror. Looking around
I noticed that I was still in the same place but everything was different the walls no longer
looked well maintained and decorated. Instead looked like the place had been abandoned for
years the paint was peeling and looked like blood sprayed up the walls and a smell of rotting flesh stunk heavy in the air. I turned to face the mirror again only to be horrified by what I saw.
Standing there staring at me was the monster from the painting, The Executioner. I stood horrified unable to move. The executioner just stared at me through his large helmet like he was staring right through me, then he turned around and walked away.
He vanished and I thought I was safe, then I heard footsteps behind me
I slowly turned around and there he was standing behind me before I could do anything
he picked me up by the throat and squeezed I tried to fight but I realized it was useless
and just as the last bit of air left my lungs.
I woke up.
As I'm sitting in the psychiatrists office I watch his every reaction to my 'dreams' as I
told it. Strangely he didn't seem surprised or shocked by what I told him. I wasn't sure if I was sane anymore I'd been having these dreams everyday since Mary died. But it seemed like he understood. "well Dr Kaufman do you think I'm crazy"
I said as I watched him make notes in his notebook. " not at all James." he said with no emotion, it seemed like something he said to all his patients. "Everyone has dreams like this, sometimes they can be a sign of some subconscious emotion or desire .".. " It doesn't feel like a dream doctor, I don't know I can't make sense of anything anymore"... "James's do you blame yourself for Mary's death?"...
Thinking about it now makes me laugh. It's been 3 years since Mary died. Now I'm wandering this lifeless town searching for her. following a letter from her, telling me to come find her in our special place. but I don't know if I want to know what waits for me here.
In this cursed town of Silent Hill.