5.
The dream was terrible. It caught me in its stinking threads, wrapped my mind in tight sheets of nightmare visions, rendering it immobile and powerless. I tried to fight it, to shake off those frightening images, because I knew that I dreaming. I knew I was trapped inside a nightmare of my own making. I kept telling myself that I should wake up, stop dreaming, pull myself out of there. My consciousness surfaced, only with much effort. Light started to shimmer through into the fog of my dream, and my eyes caught the hazy shapes from my surroundings. I was so close, but yet at the same time, so incapable of saving myself. The nightmare pulled me back, sticky spidery webs closed around my ankles, my wrists, my waist, dragging me under. I wanted to scream out loud for help, but all that came from me was only a soft sleep-drunken mutter. Then someone yelled my name, called out to me. I began to fight my way back to the surface. The spell of my nightmare fell off like broken chains. Dim light reappeared. My name was called again by a familiar voice that grew louder and louder. The thin, translucent membrane that kept me prisoner inside that dark dream broke open and I opened my eyes, my mouth finally able to release the horrified cry that was still buried inside.
"Will! Will! Wake up! You must wake up!"
My mouth hung open and my tongue felt dry like parchment. I had the terrible urge to swallow, but when I tried to close my mouth, a stab of ferocious pain flashed up my skull. I groaned.
"Will? Are you awake?"
"Pete?" I muttered, and immediately regretted saying it. The right side of my jaw felt like it had been smashed to bits.
"Are you all right?" The boy's voice shivered slightly. It came from out of the shadows at my left. I had no soddin clue where I was. There was too little light. I tried to sit up, and something rattled. When I looked I saw rusty chains slivering over each other like a nest of entangled serpents between my legs.
"You were having nightmares again. I thought I wouldn't be able to wake you up from here." He explained in a small voice.
My head ached. I pulled up my knees up against my belly and got reminded by the small pangs of pain, shooting out of every muscle from all over my body, that I had recently been beaten the crap out of me. When I tried to turn myself a little to the left a hot burning stitch shot right up my spine and made me clench my teeth together. The second explosion of ripe agony in my jaw made my eyes bloody water, so I threw out a lisping curse, making it even worse.
"Will? Is something wrong?" I heard chains rattle, somewhere in the darkness where Pete's voice came from.
"Are you hurt?"
I swallowed despite of the pain. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the dim light, and I started to be able to make up my murky surroundings. I was in a small rectangular cell, boxed in by coarse stone walls, sitting on a dirt floor covered by damp straw. There was a metal door at my left with a small barred porthole in the middle, but no light shone through. There was however, a narrow slot high up against the ceiling of the wall at my right where a ghostly pale beam of daylight entered. The rattling chain-serpents were secured around my wrists and ankles had had their tails anchored firmly to the wall behind me.
I was in prison.
"Will? Please, say something. I'm scared."
"I'm all right." I said, clenching my jaw, trying to figure out a way to speak without moving it too much.
"Busted jaw. Hurts to talk."
A silence followed. Pete must be held inside another cell, not too far away from mine. I wondered if the bloody pigs had hurt the boy. I moved toward the wall, it caused my chains to jingle in a sadistically cheerful way.
"You saved me from another nightmare." I said, grimacing as I did accidentally move the busted hinges. But I had to say something to the boy to reassure him.
"I owe you one, Pete."
Silence again. A long one that made me nervous. What if the bloody bastards had messed the boy up real bad? Broken a couple of ribs that were now slicing up his lungs? What if he was suffering of internal bleeding? Maybe Pete had passed out because of his injuries and was now slowly bleeding to death on the floor inside a cell just across the hall.
"Pete?" I tried. But still there came no response.
"Pete! Say something, dammit!"
"Will. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice was small, brittle with tears. It reminded me of how young he still was. He had always wanted us to treat him like a proper grown up, that I had forgotten that he was still no more than a child.
"It's all my fault. I shouldn't have stabbed him. I shouldn't have used that knife! Now you're in prison and you're all beaten up because of me."
"It's not your fault."
"I killed him Will! I bloody butchered him!"
A muffled sob, followed by a loud sniff.
"I didn't want to kill him. Honest to God! But I was so scared! I was so afraid he would hurt you."
A pang of guilt stabbed my heart.
"What are they going to do to us, Will?"
I pressed my back against the wall. The cold and the dampness of the stone bricks were quickly passed through my thin shirt, sending a shiver up my spine. I covered my face and rubbed in my eyes as shreds of the nightmare came rushing back. The last words of the doomed girl in the gallery spooked inside my mind's ears, forbidding whispers in the dark.
"Are they going to hang us? Are they going to kill us now?"
The memory of a room, not this one, but one much like it, with the same chipped metal door and barred windows. Two men were yelling to each other. One held a gun in his hand, pointed down at me. There was a puddle of blood on the floor. Then I heard a scream, followed by he blast of a gunshot.
"Will? Please. Tell me the truth! Tell me what they're going to do to us."
I opened my eyes, taking my breath like a convict in front of the gallows who knew that it would be his last. There was a lump in my throat and I had to swallow hard before I could lie to the boy.
"It's all right, Pete."
"I promise that we will be all right."
TBC
The dream was terrible. It caught me in its stinking threads, wrapped my mind in tight sheets of nightmare visions, rendering it immobile and powerless. I tried to fight it, to shake off those frightening images, because I knew that I dreaming. I knew I was trapped inside a nightmare of my own making. I kept telling myself that I should wake up, stop dreaming, pull myself out of there. My consciousness surfaced, only with much effort. Light started to shimmer through into the fog of my dream, and my eyes caught the hazy shapes from my surroundings. I was so close, but yet at the same time, so incapable of saving myself. The nightmare pulled me back, sticky spidery webs closed around my ankles, my wrists, my waist, dragging me under. I wanted to scream out loud for help, but all that came from me was only a soft sleep-drunken mutter. Then someone yelled my name, called out to me. I began to fight my way back to the surface. The spell of my nightmare fell off like broken chains. Dim light reappeared. My name was called again by a familiar voice that grew louder and louder. The thin, translucent membrane that kept me prisoner inside that dark dream broke open and I opened my eyes, my mouth finally able to release the horrified cry that was still buried inside.
"Will! Will! Wake up! You must wake up!"
My mouth hung open and my tongue felt dry like parchment. I had the terrible urge to swallow, but when I tried to close my mouth, a stab of ferocious pain flashed up my skull. I groaned.
"Will? Are you awake?"
"Pete?" I muttered, and immediately regretted saying it. The right side of my jaw felt like it had been smashed to bits.
"Are you all right?" The boy's voice shivered slightly. It came from out of the shadows at my left. I had no soddin clue where I was. There was too little light. I tried to sit up, and something rattled. When I looked I saw rusty chains slivering over each other like a nest of entangled serpents between my legs.
"You were having nightmares again. I thought I wouldn't be able to wake you up from here." He explained in a small voice.
My head ached. I pulled up my knees up against my belly and got reminded by the small pangs of pain, shooting out of every muscle from all over my body, that I had recently been beaten the crap out of me. When I tried to turn myself a little to the left a hot burning stitch shot right up my spine and made me clench my teeth together. The second explosion of ripe agony in my jaw made my eyes bloody water, so I threw out a lisping curse, making it even worse.
"Will? Is something wrong?" I heard chains rattle, somewhere in the darkness where Pete's voice came from.
"Are you hurt?"
I swallowed despite of the pain. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the dim light, and I started to be able to make up my murky surroundings. I was in a small rectangular cell, boxed in by coarse stone walls, sitting on a dirt floor covered by damp straw. There was a metal door at my left with a small barred porthole in the middle, but no light shone through. There was however, a narrow slot high up against the ceiling of the wall at my right where a ghostly pale beam of daylight entered. The rattling chain-serpents were secured around my wrists and ankles had had their tails anchored firmly to the wall behind me.
I was in prison.
"Will? Please, say something. I'm scared."
"I'm all right." I said, clenching my jaw, trying to figure out a way to speak without moving it too much.
"Busted jaw. Hurts to talk."
A silence followed. Pete must be held inside another cell, not too far away from mine. I wondered if the bloody pigs had hurt the boy. I moved toward the wall, it caused my chains to jingle in a sadistically cheerful way.
"You saved me from another nightmare." I said, grimacing as I did accidentally move the busted hinges. But I had to say something to the boy to reassure him.
"I owe you one, Pete."
Silence again. A long one that made me nervous. What if the bloody bastards had messed the boy up real bad? Broken a couple of ribs that were now slicing up his lungs? What if he was suffering of internal bleeding? Maybe Pete had passed out because of his injuries and was now slowly bleeding to death on the floor inside a cell just across the hall.
"Pete?" I tried. But still there came no response.
"Pete! Say something, dammit!"
"Will. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice was small, brittle with tears. It reminded me of how young he still was. He had always wanted us to treat him like a proper grown up, that I had forgotten that he was still no more than a child.
"It's all my fault. I shouldn't have stabbed him. I shouldn't have used that knife! Now you're in prison and you're all beaten up because of me."
"It's not your fault."
"I killed him Will! I bloody butchered him!"
A muffled sob, followed by a loud sniff.
"I didn't want to kill him. Honest to God! But I was so scared! I was so afraid he would hurt you."
A pang of guilt stabbed my heart.
"What are they going to do to us, Will?"
I pressed my back against the wall. The cold and the dampness of the stone bricks were quickly passed through my thin shirt, sending a shiver up my spine. I covered my face and rubbed in my eyes as shreds of the nightmare came rushing back. The last words of the doomed girl in the gallery spooked inside my mind's ears, forbidding whispers in the dark.
"Are they going to hang us? Are they going to kill us now?"
The memory of a room, not this one, but one much like it, with the same chipped metal door and barred windows. Two men were yelling to each other. One held a gun in his hand, pointed down at me. There was a puddle of blood on the floor. Then I heard a scream, followed by he blast of a gunshot.
"Will? Please. Tell me the truth! Tell me what they're going to do to us."
I opened my eyes, taking my breath like a convict in front of the gallows who knew that it would be his last. There was a lump in my throat and I had to swallow hard before I could lie to the boy.
"It's all right, Pete."
"I promise that we will be all right."
TBC