DreamWeaver
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Part 5
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Darren sat down. His sorrow and loss of hope a mighty weight. He could run in this world of dreams or lay down and await his fate, choosing the latter for he had nothing left within him. The Ankh was held tightly in his grasp. Its reasoning for being around his neck no longer a matter of concern for Darren in his bubble of helplessness. He looked up to the ceiling, his face an open wound and spoke with calm detachment belied by his current facade.
"Sancia. I don't understand. You came and promised me a chance to no longer fear to sleep but all you've done is condemn me. You were of no help at all. You died. Bitch, you died."
Darren's head collapsed into his hands and he wept pitiously, cursing in his mind the stranger who made a promise and let him down. Krueger was about and Darren couldn't care less now. He just bewailed his inevitable extinction. What was his life worth now anyway? All his friends were gone now, taken in death, their life throttled from them in fickle futility and madness. It was only a matter of time before he too sucumbed to this and he had no will left to defy fate that inextricabally tracked him down in the form of this demonic figure.
{Crying gets you no where. Fate is as fickle as the wind. Don't be disheartened so. Stand up for yourself. Be a man.}
The words carried softly into his ear. Gently touching his ear drum with feathered fingers. At first in his crying he did not realise the voice was there but it filtered in slowly, from a microscopic touch of breath to a gentle roar. Darren's head shot up, tears, tapering, the remainder descending down his face onto his chin and relinquishing their hold there too. Swept away into obscurity. He cocked his head in the manner of a dog and listened for the return of that sweet familiar voice. Surprise writ largely upon his face as the dawning of recognision came through.
"Hello? Sancia? Is that You?"
{The power of belief is what that nasty dead man relies on. It is a double edged sword. He has taken your belief away and now you sit here in misery. Get up Darren. Get up and get strong.........and don't call me bitch. Use your anger a bit more wisely please. Your fear would have drowned you, my friend. Krueger threw you in but it is up to yourself to get out again. Remember what belief is? Do you? Believe you can win and the chances of winning is no longer zero. It is a valuable lesson for you to learn, and perhaps learn it a little quickly, for the shortening of time when you're in danger is very short indeed. }
Darren listened, heard and was in inundated with questions.
"Sancia? How could you....? How can.......? Sancia? You died, I saw you die. I saw you bleed to death, how can I hear you? Where are you?"
For a moment all was silence, even the ticking of the walls paused in eagerness for a reply.
{Darren. I came as a guide, not an entire encyclopedia and step by step list of things to do. Get up and do what you have to. I never intended to do everything for you only to give you the will to do it, to dare face the dreamworld and confront Krueger. I was never there Darren, at least not in the physical sense. You were never awake either dear.}
"How? How can that be?
{Its the dreamworld Darren. The dreamworld. You were stuck in the limbo between wakefulness and sleep. I came to help you. The bad man is coming. Better put up those dukes and fight. Don't die now.......}
"Sancia? Sancia where are you? SANCIA!"
Her touch was gone, a fallow wind that had done its duty and now moved on. Once again Darren found himself alone.
....but not entirely.
Fading into reality the cause of the current terrible catastrophe of events came into view. He came with no pretense, no fanfare, only in his wholly dark image. An iconographic figure of horror and the monstrous ideology character for the human psyche.
Krueger clicked his deadly utensils against each other instead of trickery to unnerve Darren. Darren reacted as expected, terrified, horror struck, and in the words of Richard Adam's, Tharn, like his terror ridden rabbits. Too afraid to run despite the oncoming danger. Eyes bulbous and bright with unshed tears.
He did nothing but watch Krueger walk towards him. His true self buried beneath the ultimate fear. Silently he begged for aid, silently he wished Sancia was there in the flesh. Silently he begged for help, but not once did it occur to him under the influence of his baser, more primal emotions to consider Sancia's words more carefully.
" Little pig, little pig, let me tear you limb from limb."
The grotesque raised a smile which was about as inviting as Jaw s's own massive set. Darren rooted, flinched but stayed, his fear an over-layer of hidden courage. That which held him in place. Not the sedation of fate as earlier but something else entirely.
Krueger neared with every step and within Darren that inner strength grew. Around them the walls ticked and tocked louder then ever. The beating heart.
Tick.....
Tock......
Tick.......
Tock....
Face to face.
Looking into the eyes of his next victim Krueger could no longer see the fright registered. It had passed from Darren's face as he had approached, now all that remained was the determined face of someone prepared to meet their maker, and do it with every ounce of courage they possessed.
Krueger laughed and laughed mightily. Fear was a relished composite of all his victims but not a requirement. Afraid or brave they all still died.
"Say goodnight, sweetheart."
Krueger cackled, even as the hand came down, hitting it's target with certainty and accuracy. Darren gasped and finally reacted, falling to the floor in a puddle of arms and legs. Blood pooling in far more copious amounts then he would have believed.
Freddie Krueger's facial features seared into his mind's canvas, even as a bright light began to mark his vision.
"sancia....."
He whispered in shock, for low and behold there she stood.
Krueger turned to view her too. The jolly mutation of a smile erased from his cracked and burn scarred face to greet her.
Darren felt a great heat emanating from his chest. Rising from the light, or some empathic link from the wound inflicted upon Krueger, he did not know.
Or perhaps the new look Sancia, spread a warmth of gratitude and hope into his being.
Sancia stood there, a matriarchal being of light and holy reverence, beholden to the sight of Krueger's rapidly enraging features. In his burgeoning anger the change of his foe did not register. Darren however in his revere noticed something was so very obviously different from Sancia's now stranger appearance.
Krueger reacted hard and quickly to her presence. Holding onto the wound Sancia had inflicted on him he lashed out with his free hand only to discover a disturbing alteration of intention. The glove on his hand seared into his palm as the hand that held his wrist lit a stunning light around it's grasp. Sancia at the other end of it looked on with some pity, she new exactly where the outcome was going.
Darren scrambled to his feet as the nightmare man began to screech in anger and pain. Standing, Darren had a better look at the picture before him as well.
Sancia stood, taller and far brighter then he would have imagined. Her casual clothing which had been blood drenched the last he saw, was now replaced by a flowing gown of white. She shone with delicate light, a sun in the shadows. One hand held a bright ethereal knife, glowing the brightest of all her illumination, even though it was blood marked. The other still holding bound Krueger's weapon of choice.
"Hello Darren"
The smile gracing Sancia's features was the only thing familiar to Darren. The devil-may-care look and pure, joyful lack of worry was still evident. She was entirely in control of the situation, and with her eternal attitude, she never seemed in any doubt. Looking on, Darren believed it to.
Krueger screamed, his voice cracking under the pure enormity of his cry. Darren grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as it burned into his ear drums. Sancia smiled, and the light around her began to grow from the confines of her own body.
The sound of pain began to retch free from the dream man's throat in increasing intensity, causing Darren to curl further away from it, snapping his hands to his ears in an attempt to stifle the glass smashing cries. Krueger writhed under the pressured grip of his nemesis in his throes of complete pain , while she herself stood like an unmovable rock.
The light intensified, slithering up the walls and dimming the sound of its beat. Everything it touched lost the feel of shadow and darkness, becoming more in tune with reality. The light brought day to the hallway and the lengths which had been in eternal pitch black began to take form. Darren, ears still covered and still wincing, began to see the hallway as he remembered it. The nightmarish imitation giving way to familiarity.
The screaming suddenly stopped.
Darren squinted at Krueger and Sancia and saw to his confusion the despicable serial killer with his mouth still wide open but no sound coming forth. For all sense of purpose he should still be able to hear that wretched voice. There was no way Kruger could mime with the that look of dread and desperate rage upon him. The light was taking away his ability to speak too. It apparently was devouring everything of him, taking away his evil presence piece by piece.
Then light consumed all and Darren had no choice but to cover his eyes. Even then the light shuttered past and sent blotches of colour past his vision. The ground beneath shuddered setting Darren rolling across the floor. As he was sea tossed on solid ground, the blinding illumination began to fade.
For a time all was ceaseless of noise and movement. Darren felt his stomach lurch and felt too invalid to arise, beside which he could not see through a multitude of colours to know where he was treading. Footsteps made towards him in his disabled state, returning in him his fear. They halted before him. Even blind, he could tell that. Expecting his imminent death, Darren crouched lower only to have a very familiar touch on his shoulder. A hand lightly resting there with a temporary apparent lack of maliciousness. He knew though who it was.
"Sancia....?"
His voice was cracked and appealing, making him cringe at his own ineptitude.
"Of course. Why shouldn't it be. I always keep a promise Darren. Always."
The thought it could be a trick passed his mind, but the hope in him for it to not to be case over took that thought. Experimentally he opened his eyes, the world blurring back to reality. There before him was indeed the woman he knew to be Sancia.
"Hello, my dear little chum."
She smiled, and then Darren too was encased in her illumination.
.
.
.
.
_____________________________________________________
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A/N
.
My writing may have changed since. I began writing this in the early stages of my fiction writing and have written much more since. Hopefully any of you reading this story are still enjoying it.
Next, the conclusion and epilogue of Dreamweaver. Should be up and running in two weeks.
Stay tuned!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Part 5
.
.
Darren sat down. His sorrow and loss of hope a mighty weight. He could run in this world of dreams or lay down and await his fate, choosing the latter for he had nothing left within him. The Ankh was held tightly in his grasp. Its reasoning for being around his neck no longer a matter of concern for Darren in his bubble of helplessness. He looked up to the ceiling, his face an open wound and spoke with calm detachment belied by his current facade.
"Sancia. I don't understand. You came and promised me a chance to no longer fear to sleep but all you've done is condemn me. You were of no help at all. You died. Bitch, you died."
Darren's head collapsed into his hands and he wept pitiously, cursing in his mind the stranger who made a promise and let him down. Krueger was about and Darren couldn't care less now. He just bewailed his inevitable extinction. What was his life worth now anyway? All his friends were gone now, taken in death, their life throttled from them in fickle futility and madness. It was only a matter of time before he too sucumbed to this and he had no will left to defy fate that inextricabally tracked him down in the form of this demonic figure.
{Crying gets you no where. Fate is as fickle as the wind. Don't be disheartened so. Stand up for yourself. Be a man.}
The words carried softly into his ear. Gently touching his ear drum with feathered fingers. At first in his crying he did not realise the voice was there but it filtered in slowly, from a microscopic touch of breath to a gentle roar. Darren's head shot up, tears, tapering, the remainder descending down his face onto his chin and relinquishing their hold there too. Swept away into obscurity. He cocked his head in the manner of a dog and listened for the return of that sweet familiar voice. Surprise writ largely upon his face as the dawning of recognision came through.
"Hello? Sancia? Is that You?"
{The power of belief is what that nasty dead man relies on. It is a double edged sword. He has taken your belief away and now you sit here in misery. Get up Darren. Get up and get strong.........and don't call me bitch. Use your anger a bit more wisely please. Your fear would have drowned you, my friend. Krueger threw you in but it is up to yourself to get out again. Remember what belief is? Do you? Believe you can win and the chances of winning is no longer zero. It is a valuable lesson for you to learn, and perhaps learn it a little quickly, for the shortening of time when you're in danger is very short indeed. }
Darren listened, heard and was in inundated with questions.
"Sancia? How could you....? How can.......? Sancia? You died, I saw you die. I saw you bleed to death, how can I hear you? Where are you?"
For a moment all was silence, even the ticking of the walls paused in eagerness for a reply.
{Darren. I came as a guide, not an entire encyclopedia and step by step list of things to do. Get up and do what you have to. I never intended to do everything for you only to give you the will to do it, to dare face the dreamworld and confront Krueger. I was never there Darren, at least not in the physical sense. You were never awake either dear.}
"How? How can that be?
{Its the dreamworld Darren. The dreamworld. You were stuck in the limbo between wakefulness and sleep. I came to help you. The bad man is coming. Better put up those dukes and fight. Don't die now.......}
"Sancia? Sancia where are you? SANCIA!"
Her touch was gone, a fallow wind that had done its duty and now moved on. Once again Darren found himself alone.
....but not entirely.
Fading into reality the cause of the current terrible catastrophe of events came into view. He came with no pretense, no fanfare, only in his wholly dark image. An iconographic figure of horror and the monstrous ideology character for the human psyche.
Krueger clicked his deadly utensils against each other instead of trickery to unnerve Darren. Darren reacted as expected, terrified, horror struck, and in the words of Richard Adam's, Tharn, like his terror ridden rabbits. Too afraid to run despite the oncoming danger. Eyes bulbous and bright with unshed tears.
He did nothing but watch Krueger walk towards him. His true self buried beneath the ultimate fear. Silently he begged for aid, silently he wished Sancia was there in the flesh. Silently he begged for help, but not once did it occur to him under the influence of his baser, more primal emotions to consider Sancia's words more carefully.
" Little pig, little pig, let me tear you limb from limb."
The grotesque raised a smile which was about as inviting as Jaw s's own massive set. Darren rooted, flinched but stayed, his fear an over-layer of hidden courage. That which held him in place. Not the sedation of fate as earlier but something else entirely.
Krueger neared with every step and within Darren that inner strength grew. Around them the walls ticked and tocked louder then ever. The beating heart.
Tick.....
Tock......
Tick.......
Tock....
Face to face.
Looking into the eyes of his next victim Krueger could no longer see the fright registered. It had passed from Darren's face as he had approached, now all that remained was the determined face of someone prepared to meet their maker, and do it with every ounce of courage they possessed.
Krueger laughed and laughed mightily. Fear was a relished composite of all his victims but not a requirement. Afraid or brave they all still died.
"Say goodnight, sweetheart."
Krueger cackled, even as the hand came down, hitting it's target with certainty and accuracy. Darren gasped and finally reacted, falling to the floor in a puddle of arms and legs. Blood pooling in far more copious amounts then he would have believed.
Freddie Krueger's facial features seared into his mind's canvas, even as a bright light began to mark his vision.
"sancia....."
He whispered in shock, for low and behold there she stood.
Krueger turned to view her too. The jolly mutation of a smile erased from his cracked and burn scarred face to greet her.
Darren felt a great heat emanating from his chest. Rising from the light, or some empathic link from the wound inflicted upon Krueger, he did not know.
Or perhaps the new look Sancia, spread a warmth of gratitude and hope into his being.
Sancia stood there, a matriarchal being of light and holy reverence, beholden to the sight of Krueger's rapidly enraging features. In his burgeoning anger the change of his foe did not register. Darren however in his revere noticed something was so very obviously different from Sancia's now stranger appearance.
Krueger reacted hard and quickly to her presence. Holding onto the wound Sancia had inflicted on him he lashed out with his free hand only to discover a disturbing alteration of intention. The glove on his hand seared into his palm as the hand that held his wrist lit a stunning light around it's grasp. Sancia at the other end of it looked on with some pity, she new exactly where the outcome was going.
Darren scrambled to his feet as the nightmare man began to screech in anger and pain. Standing, Darren had a better look at the picture before him as well.
Sancia stood, taller and far brighter then he would have imagined. Her casual clothing which had been blood drenched the last he saw, was now replaced by a flowing gown of white. She shone with delicate light, a sun in the shadows. One hand held a bright ethereal knife, glowing the brightest of all her illumination, even though it was blood marked. The other still holding bound Krueger's weapon of choice.
"Hello Darren"
The smile gracing Sancia's features was the only thing familiar to Darren. The devil-may-care look and pure, joyful lack of worry was still evident. She was entirely in control of the situation, and with her eternal attitude, she never seemed in any doubt. Looking on, Darren believed it to.
Krueger screamed, his voice cracking under the pure enormity of his cry. Darren grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as it burned into his ear drums. Sancia smiled, and the light around her began to grow from the confines of her own body.
The sound of pain began to retch free from the dream man's throat in increasing intensity, causing Darren to curl further away from it, snapping his hands to his ears in an attempt to stifle the glass smashing cries. Krueger writhed under the pressured grip of his nemesis in his throes of complete pain , while she herself stood like an unmovable rock.
The light intensified, slithering up the walls and dimming the sound of its beat. Everything it touched lost the feel of shadow and darkness, becoming more in tune with reality. The light brought day to the hallway and the lengths which had been in eternal pitch black began to take form. Darren, ears still covered and still wincing, began to see the hallway as he remembered it. The nightmarish imitation giving way to familiarity.
The screaming suddenly stopped.
Darren squinted at Krueger and Sancia and saw to his confusion the despicable serial killer with his mouth still wide open but no sound coming forth. For all sense of purpose he should still be able to hear that wretched voice. There was no way Kruger could mime with the that look of dread and desperate rage upon him. The light was taking away his ability to speak too. It apparently was devouring everything of him, taking away his evil presence piece by piece.
Then light consumed all and Darren had no choice but to cover his eyes. Even then the light shuttered past and sent blotches of colour past his vision. The ground beneath shuddered setting Darren rolling across the floor. As he was sea tossed on solid ground, the blinding illumination began to fade.
For a time all was ceaseless of noise and movement. Darren felt his stomach lurch and felt too invalid to arise, beside which he could not see through a multitude of colours to know where he was treading. Footsteps made towards him in his disabled state, returning in him his fear. They halted before him. Even blind, he could tell that. Expecting his imminent death, Darren crouched lower only to have a very familiar touch on his shoulder. A hand lightly resting there with a temporary apparent lack of maliciousness. He knew though who it was.
"Sancia....?"
His voice was cracked and appealing, making him cringe at his own ineptitude.
"Of course. Why shouldn't it be. I always keep a promise Darren. Always."
The thought it could be a trick passed his mind, but the hope in him for it to not to be case over took that thought. Experimentally he opened his eyes, the world blurring back to reality. There before him was indeed the woman he knew to be Sancia.
"Hello, my dear little chum."
She smiled, and then Darren too was encased in her illumination.
.
.
.
.
_____________________________________________________
.
A/N
.
My writing may have changed since. I began writing this in the early stages of my fiction writing and have written much more since. Hopefully any of you reading this story are still enjoying it.
Next, the conclusion and epilogue of Dreamweaver. Should be up and running in two weeks.
Stay tuned!