Well, this is a pretty freaky chapter. I didn't mean for it to take up a
whole chapter of my story, but as I started writing it, I found it VERY
hard to stop, and ended writing the whole chapter in one day! Anyways,
after this one, I'm really gonna try and get the story moving- it seems to
be dragging quite a lot, and I want to get to the best parts. ;) I'm sorry
if this chapter's a bit...well, confusing and rubbish in general, but I felt
a bit creative! Anyhow, on with the weird chapter!
Chapter 9- Demons
The mists had returned. Everything was cold, pulsating, and an eerie red light shone from somewhere, catching the fog and illuminating its side. Randall always seemed to feel claustrophobic when he was here, even though there was endless space surrounding him. Maybe it was the stale-smelling smoke, or maybe it was the fact that he couldn't see anything more than a few metres in front of him. Not that he wanted to.
Randall looked up. Above him, where the mist thinned out, was a vast expanse of black. That's where the Demons would come from. Yet, even as the first one appeared and the screams and wails that were all too familiar started once more, Randall wasn't afraid. No, he had stopped being afraid of the Demons a long time ago, when his life had changed course; not for the better, but for the worst. Randall watched the Demon float down in no more than basic curiosity, wondering which one it was. Usually, it would be the one of his parents first, maybe of the car-crash, and then it would follow his life on from there. But this time was different.
This Demon didn't' seem hostile at all- you could even go as much to say that, counting on first impressions, it seemed quite affable. But Randall wasn't going to fall for that- he knew first impressions were not to be counted on- and, as the Demon landed in front of him with a soft thud, the ear-splitting screams and wails ceased, as though they were a sentence and a full-stop had barged in. All Randall could hear now was his own breathing, and the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart.
To describe the Demon using words would do it no justice, but, even if Randall had wanted to describe it, it would hardly have been possible. The only feature of this Demon that was clear was its colour; a light violet, slightly faded as though it had been left out in the sun for too long.
The Demon suddenly lurched, engulfing Randall, and then gradually twisted and churned until it was in the form of a miniature hurricane. Then, with one powerful explosion and an electrifying beam of light, it was gone, taking its hostage with it. But, for Randall, the dream had only just begun.
******************
He found himself in a little seaside resort kind of town, like the one that you would find in those cheap, funny brochures telling you how beautiful the sea was, or how tasty the local delicacies were, or how scenic the pier was. The pier was quite attractive, Randall had to admit, especially as the sun set over a line of glowing water, making it twinkle like the millions of stars above. For the first time in a while, Randall found himself to be really at peace with the world, immensely satisfied and enjoying every second. But there was a density in the air, something very, very powerful. Randall didn't worry, though, he had been through this type of scene many a time, and refused to listen to the little voice in the back of his head telling him that this was different.
"Well," he asked his conscience, getting impatient with it for spoiling such a perfect setting, "how is it different? The still the same sun that's always setting but never rising; the same pier that, if you walk along it for ten minutes or so, you'd end up back where you started; and, of course, the element that makes this pier so unusual compared to other, real ones- there's never anyone here. Anyone, other than me, that is. It's empty. Always has been and always will be..." In his life, Randall had been wrong about some things, and he had been right about others, just as any other normal person. But this was one of those things that Randall was wrong about. And, what's more, he knew it. Deep inside, he knew that, one day, someone else would come to the pier, and share this lovely view with him. And today was that day.
Randall immediately felt a presence next to him, and had a guess who it was. What he had presumed would have been what anyone would have expected, considering the last few days, but Randall was surprised at the scaly, green-eyed face that stared back at him. So surprised, in fact, that he felt himself go weak in the knees and had to cling to the wooden fence of the pier in support.
"Marie?" Randall's breaths came in short, quick gasps, but, even as her brother had a little panic-attack, Marie did not seem at all shocked to see him. Actually, she didn't even look pleased. Her features were arranged in a neutral expression, not revealing any emotion, her mouth not smiling, but grimacing. Randall took a step towards her, still feeling shaky and unbalanced. He held his hand out, reaching to touch her, but she withdrew herself from him.
"Marie? W-what's...?" Randall couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He knew that none of this was actually real; that this was all just a figment of his over-active imagination, but she looked so alive, so lifelike, which was quite a feat since he hadn't seen his twin-sister for so many years...But why had she left the orphanage without him, why couldn't he have come with her? He needed to know.
"Please, Marie, where've you been? What's happened? Why did you stop writing? I was so worried about-"
"More and more questions," she said in a trance-like manner, her voice showing no hints of emotion. "But never any answers. More and more questions, but never any answers. More and more..." She repeated this over and over again, staring daggers at Randall. This was the first time in a long while that he had actually been scared of his dreams. Suddenly, something inside of him snapped, and he just couldn't hack it anymore.
"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" He grabbed Marie by the shoulders, shaking her frantically, shouting and begging her to stop, but still she repeated her omen to Randall. In the end, he let go, giving up, and then just threw his arms around her desperately, still quietly begging her to be like the sister he once knew- the sweet, caring, loving sister who he could share all of his problems with, confide in, who would be there for him, forever.
"Please...please stop...please..." But forever hadn't lasted as long as Randall had expected. Tears streamed down his face, and Randall was doing everything to stop himself from bursting into sobs. Still he hugged her tightly, although he knew that he would never be hugged back. Randall let go, and sighed with relief. She had stopped. Jerkily, her head turned to the sea, and she smiled. Her twin-brother was silent. He had managed to stem the tears, instead watching the 'fake' Marie with interest. She had turned towards the setting sun now, her hands resting on the fence. Then, it wasn't there. The fence had disappeared. And, a few seconds later, so had Marie.
She had jumped, but, before doing so, had said a few more words to the bewildered lizard-monster that stood beside her.
"More and more questions, but never any answers. More and more lies, but never any truth. More and more problems, but never any solutions. Because all of the answers, truths, solutions lie within you." And then she had jumped. There was no splash, no screams of the waves, no squawks of the seagulls, no sound. Then the colour ebbed away. Randall had fainted.
******************
The bar stank of alcohol, not surprisingly; it was a bar, after all. It was one of those new, hip kinds of bars, with all of those flashing strobe lights and heavily-beated Trance music, just the thing to annoy the neighbours, especially the old fogies who refused to let the younger generation have any fun. But Randall didn't actually know what this bar's location was, or even if it had one. All he knew was that it stunk of beer, had stupidly loud music and was empty, apart from himself. Randall had never really enjoyed this part of his dreams, which was to be expected- the place might have stunk of beer, but no matter how many times Randall would try, nothing but water had ever been poured out of the beer pumps. He had deduced that this dream wasn't entirely his, because if it had been, he would have made many alterations- the beer being one.
Sighing sadly, Randall looked about himself, swivelling on the little stool that he had somehow managed to seat himself on. The nightclub was very large, but not exactly endless. The walls were all in sight, painted a depressing shade of black, and all had been decorated with large pictures of abstract art. Flashing rhythmically and in time with the thundering music, the dance floor was, of course, empty, and somehow it had managed to look as though it resented this. Randall took a sip out of his glass of water, and then looked at it meaningfully.
A fly floated around on the water's surface, legs akimbo. Randall coughed, wishing he hadn't taken a sip from the beverage that had been provided, and put it down on the marble surface of the bar. His eyes widened, his heart rate increasing rapidly, and, as his body began to slip off the stool, he grabbed the side of the bar to stop himself from falling for the second time in this deranged dream...or nightmare, as it was turning out to be.
Cy grinned, slipping his sunglasses off and winking at his brother. He brought a pint of beer to his lips. Shaking his head, Randall told himself off for getting scared of his older brother. Anyways, this should've been expected- this was the first time that there had been anyone other than Randall at one of these locations, so if it had happened once, at the pier, then why shouldn't it happen again? Cy set the glass down on the bar-top, and wiped his lips with a bare, black arm.
"Lovely." He might have been disturbed, frightened even, of Marie at the pier, but Randall definitely wasn't going to act weak in front of Cy, even if he wasn't actually real.
"Why are you here?"
"Why, why, why...you keep asking all these questions. And the reason you can't find the answer is because you're using this," Cy prodded the side of Randall's head. "Instead of this." He then touched Randall lightly on the chest, his black claw digging into his brother's glossy purple scales. "There's a lotta doors that need unlocking, and, even though you won't be able to open some of 'em, others are ready and waiting for you to just come along and open 'em. But, then again," Cy sneered, his unusually welcoming tone turning sour, "you never were the sharpest tool in the shed. Talking of tools..." Cy left the sentence hanging in the air, and Randall couldn't help but wonder what's its ending was to be. But he would find out soon enough.
Picking up his brother's soiled glass of water, Cy looked deep into the drink, chuckling at the fly.
"That's unfortunate, isn't it? You were always very picky when it came to hygiene with food, I remember. Always had a bit of a weak stomach." He smiled lopsidedly, and then gulped the water down in one, fly and all. Slamming the glass down onto the bar top, Cy licked his lips with a deeply- forked tongue, and quickly caught Randall off-guard, shoving him roughly off of his stool. Randall landed on the smooth black floor heavily, banging his head against the stool next to him. As he opened his eyes groggily, Cy crawled down onto the floor and loomed over him. Trying to stifle a panicked yelp, Randall saw what Cy had clenched in a fist- a meat-cleaver, and a sharp one at that. Cy was smiling manically, enjoying and savouring his brother's discomfort.
"You're not the only key Randall, and you'd do best not to forget it." Randall was looking frantically about himself, trying hard not to look at the meat-cleaver. But it was quite inevitable, especially as Cy shoved it into Randall's face, trying to intimidate his brother. It was covered in thick blood, Randall had noticed. What he hadn't noticed, though, was that the blood was his own.
The sight of the blood made Randall feel queasy, and, before he had realized what had happened, he had passed out.
******************
Usually, what would happen next was that he would wake up, not worried, not in a cold sweat, not afraid of anything at all. Because, usually, each section of his dream would be more or less pleasant. Pleasant, but empty. And, to get to the next section, a Demon would come along, interrupt Randall in whatever he was doing, which was usually nothing, and then take him to the next place. Randall had never been particularly fond of the Demons- they had never really helped or aided him in any way, and, as he had gotten more acquainted with this dream as it would come along every several months, he had started to notice them less and less, until, eventually, he just expected them. Yet, this time, in place of the Demons, there had been his siblings. But where was he to go now?
Usually, the dream would begin with the car-crash, which was made incredibly uncanny by the fact that there was never anyone else in the car. No-one driving or directing it even though, when it had actually happened, he had been accompanied by Marie and their parents. And, as Randall would sit back in the seat of the car, the journey to nowhere beginning, he would notice that the scenery outside that he was zooming by would never change. It was as though he was in one of those 2-D cartoons, when animators couldn't be bothered to design a lot of scenery so they would just repeat the same picture of a few trees, some grey, cracked-up buildings and the never-ending road over and over again.
But this time, the Winds of Change had obviously blown, meaning that this section of the dream was to be missed. Randall wasn't particularly bothered about that- it had always seemed quite a tedious activity. But what was going to be next? And who would be there to greet him? Well, Randall was just about to find out.
******************
Once again, he was by the sea. But this sea was different to any other sea that Randall's bright emerald-green eyes had ever had the honour to see. It was blood red and seemed to be in the middle of a raging storm, the air crackling with electricity. Randall himself was standing on the edge of a rock cliff that was slowly being eroded by the angry sea beneath it. Everything seemed so furious, so explosive, yet strangely alive and active, like a volcano waking up after years of being painfully dormant. And now, that volcano was getting revenge on the pain that it had suffered.
Randall turned around. Behind him, nothingness. Not a big deal, really; there always seemed to be an element of nothingness in Randall's dreams. He turned back around, but regretted it almost immediately. The cliff had begun shaking as though an earthquake was upon it, and, as the shuddered increased and became more violent, the thing that was the cause of these tremors came into view, erupting out of the sea and swooshing upwards, perilously close to the cliff. As Randall caught sight of it (it was hard not to- it must've been about fifty times the size of its singular audience) he didn't gasp, or yelp, or show any forms of fright. He just stood there, watching it in wonder, entranced by its bright colours and spinning tail.
It was an incredible...thing. It was as though the sea had given birth to a miniature sun, boiling and burning, heading towards the purple sky above. A long tail that twisted and coiled beneath it was of a dark grey colour, like newly-laid tarmac, and around the sun was an electric blue halo that sent shivers vibrating through the air. It was an amazing, a gob-smacking sight, which, unfortunately, only lasted a few short seconds until it had disappeared into the mass of purple above. Randall still stared at the spot in the sky when he had seen it disappear from sight, even though it was long gone.
But it wasn't until then that Randall noticed all the other ones, all exactly the same as what he had just seen, except that they seemed to be a lot smaller. This was just because of perspective- the other ones were quite a distance away.
A hand grabbed Randall's shoulder, and he spun round warily. Once again, he wished he hadn't. A strong wind suddenly gathered, blowing Randall's fronds about erratically, and making Zephyr's thin tail whip around. Randall couldn't breathe for a second, and he was more frightened than he had ever been for a very long time. Then, to his shock, Zephyr's eyes softened and became warmer, loving. She smiled for the first time, at least, in front of Randall. But it wasn't an evil smile, or a malicious or threatening one. It was a genuinely happy one.
"The past is lost forever, but the future is yours. There is no destiny- life is your decision. But some choices were already made for you, and they have ruined your life." She took a step towards Randall, and he found himself taking a step back. One of his legs gave way, and Randall stumbled slightly, realizing that he was on the edge of the cliff.
"All of those years ago, your father told you about the Winds of Change. He didn't tell you why he had suddenly decided to care about you though, did he? Why he wanted to tell you about life only four days before he would die? Or where Cyrus was when he went on those 'walkabouts?' Or even where he was that whole first year when you and Marie were sent to an orphanage? Or why he wasn't in the car when it crashed? What about how, suddenly, Marie managed to get foster parents, only a few days after you had foiled Harold Waternoose's plan? No. There'll be more questions like this for the rest of your life, but you won't find out the answers just yet. But you HAVE just found another piece of the puzzle. It'll all come together one day, but you'll have to be patient. For once, instead of grabbing what life offers you, leave it be. Let your chosen path unravel itself without your help. And what part do I play in this?" Zephyr's smile vanished, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "You'll find out sooner than you'd think. But, for now, you belong down there, with all of the other forgotten souls."
She motioned towards the sea below them which was now creepily calm, the waves more like ripples in a great bath of blood.
"Until it is your time to be found once again."
Randall nodded, even though he didn't really understand. Taking another step forward, Zephyr lay her head on Randall's shoulder, hugging him tightly and whispering something to him, the words being carried away on the wind only a second after.
"I'm sorry."
"But what-"Randall was stopped in the middle of his sentence as Zephyr bashed into his side, making him loose balance and topple over the cliff edge. He fell for what seemed like a million years, Zephyr's haunting gaze following after him, and then, finally, the blood-sea greeted him. Underneath the water, the world was a shimmering red, and light danced around him. Above the water, he could make out a collection of faces staring down at him, all glaring evilly.
"Mum, Dad...Mr Stefani? Xenon...the Waternoose brothers?" Randall whispered these words, though no sound came out of his mouth. They carried on staring at him, all connected in some way. Randall couldn't breathe underneath the surface of the sea, but he didn't seem to need to and, as his limbs flailed wildly around his body, something soft and warm came up beneath him, supporting his torso.
He woke up with a start.
Chapter 9- Demons
The mists had returned. Everything was cold, pulsating, and an eerie red light shone from somewhere, catching the fog and illuminating its side. Randall always seemed to feel claustrophobic when he was here, even though there was endless space surrounding him. Maybe it was the stale-smelling smoke, or maybe it was the fact that he couldn't see anything more than a few metres in front of him. Not that he wanted to.
Randall looked up. Above him, where the mist thinned out, was a vast expanse of black. That's where the Demons would come from. Yet, even as the first one appeared and the screams and wails that were all too familiar started once more, Randall wasn't afraid. No, he had stopped being afraid of the Demons a long time ago, when his life had changed course; not for the better, but for the worst. Randall watched the Demon float down in no more than basic curiosity, wondering which one it was. Usually, it would be the one of his parents first, maybe of the car-crash, and then it would follow his life on from there. But this time was different.
This Demon didn't' seem hostile at all- you could even go as much to say that, counting on first impressions, it seemed quite affable. But Randall wasn't going to fall for that- he knew first impressions were not to be counted on- and, as the Demon landed in front of him with a soft thud, the ear-splitting screams and wails ceased, as though they were a sentence and a full-stop had barged in. All Randall could hear now was his own breathing, and the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart.
To describe the Demon using words would do it no justice, but, even if Randall had wanted to describe it, it would hardly have been possible. The only feature of this Demon that was clear was its colour; a light violet, slightly faded as though it had been left out in the sun for too long.
The Demon suddenly lurched, engulfing Randall, and then gradually twisted and churned until it was in the form of a miniature hurricane. Then, with one powerful explosion and an electrifying beam of light, it was gone, taking its hostage with it. But, for Randall, the dream had only just begun.
******************
He found himself in a little seaside resort kind of town, like the one that you would find in those cheap, funny brochures telling you how beautiful the sea was, or how tasty the local delicacies were, or how scenic the pier was. The pier was quite attractive, Randall had to admit, especially as the sun set over a line of glowing water, making it twinkle like the millions of stars above. For the first time in a while, Randall found himself to be really at peace with the world, immensely satisfied and enjoying every second. But there was a density in the air, something very, very powerful. Randall didn't worry, though, he had been through this type of scene many a time, and refused to listen to the little voice in the back of his head telling him that this was different.
"Well," he asked his conscience, getting impatient with it for spoiling such a perfect setting, "how is it different? The still the same sun that's always setting but never rising; the same pier that, if you walk along it for ten minutes or so, you'd end up back where you started; and, of course, the element that makes this pier so unusual compared to other, real ones- there's never anyone here. Anyone, other than me, that is. It's empty. Always has been and always will be..." In his life, Randall had been wrong about some things, and he had been right about others, just as any other normal person. But this was one of those things that Randall was wrong about. And, what's more, he knew it. Deep inside, he knew that, one day, someone else would come to the pier, and share this lovely view with him. And today was that day.
Randall immediately felt a presence next to him, and had a guess who it was. What he had presumed would have been what anyone would have expected, considering the last few days, but Randall was surprised at the scaly, green-eyed face that stared back at him. So surprised, in fact, that he felt himself go weak in the knees and had to cling to the wooden fence of the pier in support.
"Marie?" Randall's breaths came in short, quick gasps, but, even as her brother had a little panic-attack, Marie did not seem at all shocked to see him. Actually, she didn't even look pleased. Her features were arranged in a neutral expression, not revealing any emotion, her mouth not smiling, but grimacing. Randall took a step towards her, still feeling shaky and unbalanced. He held his hand out, reaching to touch her, but she withdrew herself from him.
"Marie? W-what's...?" Randall couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He knew that none of this was actually real; that this was all just a figment of his over-active imagination, but she looked so alive, so lifelike, which was quite a feat since he hadn't seen his twin-sister for so many years...But why had she left the orphanage without him, why couldn't he have come with her? He needed to know.
"Please, Marie, where've you been? What's happened? Why did you stop writing? I was so worried about-"
"More and more questions," she said in a trance-like manner, her voice showing no hints of emotion. "But never any answers. More and more questions, but never any answers. More and more..." She repeated this over and over again, staring daggers at Randall. This was the first time in a long while that he had actually been scared of his dreams. Suddenly, something inside of him snapped, and he just couldn't hack it anymore.
"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" He grabbed Marie by the shoulders, shaking her frantically, shouting and begging her to stop, but still she repeated her omen to Randall. In the end, he let go, giving up, and then just threw his arms around her desperately, still quietly begging her to be like the sister he once knew- the sweet, caring, loving sister who he could share all of his problems with, confide in, who would be there for him, forever.
"Please...please stop...please..." But forever hadn't lasted as long as Randall had expected. Tears streamed down his face, and Randall was doing everything to stop himself from bursting into sobs. Still he hugged her tightly, although he knew that he would never be hugged back. Randall let go, and sighed with relief. She had stopped. Jerkily, her head turned to the sea, and she smiled. Her twin-brother was silent. He had managed to stem the tears, instead watching the 'fake' Marie with interest. She had turned towards the setting sun now, her hands resting on the fence. Then, it wasn't there. The fence had disappeared. And, a few seconds later, so had Marie.
She had jumped, but, before doing so, had said a few more words to the bewildered lizard-monster that stood beside her.
"More and more questions, but never any answers. More and more lies, but never any truth. More and more problems, but never any solutions. Because all of the answers, truths, solutions lie within you." And then she had jumped. There was no splash, no screams of the waves, no squawks of the seagulls, no sound. Then the colour ebbed away. Randall had fainted.
******************
The bar stank of alcohol, not surprisingly; it was a bar, after all. It was one of those new, hip kinds of bars, with all of those flashing strobe lights and heavily-beated Trance music, just the thing to annoy the neighbours, especially the old fogies who refused to let the younger generation have any fun. But Randall didn't actually know what this bar's location was, or even if it had one. All he knew was that it stunk of beer, had stupidly loud music and was empty, apart from himself. Randall had never really enjoyed this part of his dreams, which was to be expected- the place might have stunk of beer, but no matter how many times Randall would try, nothing but water had ever been poured out of the beer pumps. He had deduced that this dream wasn't entirely his, because if it had been, he would have made many alterations- the beer being one.
Sighing sadly, Randall looked about himself, swivelling on the little stool that he had somehow managed to seat himself on. The nightclub was very large, but not exactly endless. The walls were all in sight, painted a depressing shade of black, and all had been decorated with large pictures of abstract art. Flashing rhythmically and in time with the thundering music, the dance floor was, of course, empty, and somehow it had managed to look as though it resented this. Randall took a sip out of his glass of water, and then looked at it meaningfully.
A fly floated around on the water's surface, legs akimbo. Randall coughed, wishing he hadn't taken a sip from the beverage that had been provided, and put it down on the marble surface of the bar. His eyes widened, his heart rate increasing rapidly, and, as his body began to slip off the stool, he grabbed the side of the bar to stop himself from falling for the second time in this deranged dream...or nightmare, as it was turning out to be.
Cy grinned, slipping his sunglasses off and winking at his brother. He brought a pint of beer to his lips. Shaking his head, Randall told himself off for getting scared of his older brother. Anyways, this should've been expected- this was the first time that there had been anyone other than Randall at one of these locations, so if it had happened once, at the pier, then why shouldn't it happen again? Cy set the glass down on the bar-top, and wiped his lips with a bare, black arm.
"Lovely." He might have been disturbed, frightened even, of Marie at the pier, but Randall definitely wasn't going to act weak in front of Cy, even if he wasn't actually real.
"Why are you here?"
"Why, why, why...you keep asking all these questions. And the reason you can't find the answer is because you're using this," Cy prodded the side of Randall's head. "Instead of this." He then touched Randall lightly on the chest, his black claw digging into his brother's glossy purple scales. "There's a lotta doors that need unlocking, and, even though you won't be able to open some of 'em, others are ready and waiting for you to just come along and open 'em. But, then again," Cy sneered, his unusually welcoming tone turning sour, "you never were the sharpest tool in the shed. Talking of tools..." Cy left the sentence hanging in the air, and Randall couldn't help but wonder what's its ending was to be. But he would find out soon enough.
Picking up his brother's soiled glass of water, Cy looked deep into the drink, chuckling at the fly.
"That's unfortunate, isn't it? You were always very picky when it came to hygiene with food, I remember. Always had a bit of a weak stomach." He smiled lopsidedly, and then gulped the water down in one, fly and all. Slamming the glass down onto the bar top, Cy licked his lips with a deeply- forked tongue, and quickly caught Randall off-guard, shoving him roughly off of his stool. Randall landed on the smooth black floor heavily, banging his head against the stool next to him. As he opened his eyes groggily, Cy crawled down onto the floor and loomed over him. Trying to stifle a panicked yelp, Randall saw what Cy had clenched in a fist- a meat-cleaver, and a sharp one at that. Cy was smiling manically, enjoying and savouring his brother's discomfort.
"You're not the only key Randall, and you'd do best not to forget it." Randall was looking frantically about himself, trying hard not to look at the meat-cleaver. But it was quite inevitable, especially as Cy shoved it into Randall's face, trying to intimidate his brother. It was covered in thick blood, Randall had noticed. What he hadn't noticed, though, was that the blood was his own.
The sight of the blood made Randall feel queasy, and, before he had realized what had happened, he had passed out.
******************
Usually, what would happen next was that he would wake up, not worried, not in a cold sweat, not afraid of anything at all. Because, usually, each section of his dream would be more or less pleasant. Pleasant, but empty. And, to get to the next section, a Demon would come along, interrupt Randall in whatever he was doing, which was usually nothing, and then take him to the next place. Randall had never been particularly fond of the Demons- they had never really helped or aided him in any way, and, as he had gotten more acquainted with this dream as it would come along every several months, he had started to notice them less and less, until, eventually, he just expected them. Yet, this time, in place of the Demons, there had been his siblings. But where was he to go now?
Usually, the dream would begin with the car-crash, which was made incredibly uncanny by the fact that there was never anyone else in the car. No-one driving or directing it even though, when it had actually happened, he had been accompanied by Marie and their parents. And, as Randall would sit back in the seat of the car, the journey to nowhere beginning, he would notice that the scenery outside that he was zooming by would never change. It was as though he was in one of those 2-D cartoons, when animators couldn't be bothered to design a lot of scenery so they would just repeat the same picture of a few trees, some grey, cracked-up buildings and the never-ending road over and over again.
But this time, the Winds of Change had obviously blown, meaning that this section of the dream was to be missed. Randall wasn't particularly bothered about that- it had always seemed quite a tedious activity. But what was going to be next? And who would be there to greet him? Well, Randall was just about to find out.
******************
Once again, he was by the sea. But this sea was different to any other sea that Randall's bright emerald-green eyes had ever had the honour to see. It was blood red and seemed to be in the middle of a raging storm, the air crackling with electricity. Randall himself was standing on the edge of a rock cliff that was slowly being eroded by the angry sea beneath it. Everything seemed so furious, so explosive, yet strangely alive and active, like a volcano waking up after years of being painfully dormant. And now, that volcano was getting revenge on the pain that it had suffered.
Randall turned around. Behind him, nothingness. Not a big deal, really; there always seemed to be an element of nothingness in Randall's dreams. He turned back around, but regretted it almost immediately. The cliff had begun shaking as though an earthquake was upon it, and, as the shuddered increased and became more violent, the thing that was the cause of these tremors came into view, erupting out of the sea and swooshing upwards, perilously close to the cliff. As Randall caught sight of it (it was hard not to- it must've been about fifty times the size of its singular audience) he didn't gasp, or yelp, or show any forms of fright. He just stood there, watching it in wonder, entranced by its bright colours and spinning tail.
It was an incredible...thing. It was as though the sea had given birth to a miniature sun, boiling and burning, heading towards the purple sky above. A long tail that twisted and coiled beneath it was of a dark grey colour, like newly-laid tarmac, and around the sun was an electric blue halo that sent shivers vibrating through the air. It was an amazing, a gob-smacking sight, which, unfortunately, only lasted a few short seconds until it had disappeared into the mass of purple above. Randall still stared at the spot in the sky when he had seen it disappear from sight, even though it was long gone.
But it wasn't until then that Randall noticed all the other ones, all exactly the same as what he had just seen, except that they seemed to be a lot smaller. This was just because of perspective- the other ones were quite a distance away.
A hand grabbed Randall's shoulder, and he spun round warily. Once again, he wished he hadn't. A strong wind suddenly gathered, blowing Randall's fronds about erratically, and making Zephyr's thin tail whip around. Randall couldn't breathe for a second, and he was more frightened than he had ever been for a very long time. Then, to his shock, Zephyr's eyes softened and became warmer, loving. She smiled for the first time, at least, in front of Randall. But it wasn't an evil smile, or a malicious or threatening one. It was a genuinely happy one.
"The past is lost forever, but the future is yours. There is no destiny- life is your decision. But some choices were already made for you, and they have ruined your life." She took a step towards Randall, and he found himself taking a step back. One of his legs gave way, and Randall stumbled slightly, realizing that he was on the edge of the cliff.
"All of those years ago, your father told you about the Winds of Change. He didn't tell you why he had suddenly decided to care about you though, did he? Why he wanted to tell you about life only four days before he would die? Or where Cyrus was when he went on those 'walkabouts?' Or even where he was that whole first year when you and Marie were sent to an orphanage? Or why he wasn't in the car when it crashed? What about how, suddenly, Marie managed to get foster parents, only a few days after you had foiled Harold Waternoose's plan? No. There'll be more questions like this for the rest of your life, but you won't find out the answers just yet. But you HAVE just found another piece of the puzzle. It'll all come together one day, but you'll have to be patient. For once, instead of grabbing what life offers you, leave it be. Let your chosen path unravel itself without your help. And what part do I play in this?" Zephyr's smile vanished, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "You'll find out sooner than you'd think. But, for now, you belong down there, with all of the other forgotten souls."
She motioned towards the sea below them which was now creepily calm, the waves more like ripples in a great bath of blood.
"Until it is your time to be found once again."
Randall nodded, even though he didn't really understand. Taking another step forward, Zephyr lay her head on Randall's shoulder, hugging him tightly and whispering something to him, the words being carried away on the wind only a second after.
"I'm sorry."
"But what-"Randall was stopped in the middle of his sentence as Zephyr bashed into his side, making him loose balance and topple over the cliff edge. He fell for what seemed like a million years, Zephyr's haunting gaze following after him, and then, finally, the blood-sea greeted him. Underneath the water, the world was a shimmering red, and light danced around him. Above the water, he could make out a collection of faces staring down at him, all glaring evilly.
"Mum, Dad...Mr Stefani? Xenon...the Waternoose brothers?" Randall whispered these words, though no sound came out of his mouth. They carried on staring at him, all connected in some way. Randall couldn't breathe underneath the surface of the sea, but he didn't seem to need to and, as his limbs flailed wildly around his body, something soft and warm came up beneath him, supporting his torso.
He woke up with a start.