Haunted Dreams
Haunted Dreams by Nicole Autumn
Gasp!
Cold sweat clings to my skin, making my clothes stick uncomfortably. My heart thrashes in my chest as I awaken from the same nightmare I've had for the last six months.
It always starts the same, terror grips me, my breathing comes rapidly, and I'm standing outside the dilapidated haunted house. It's an old Victorian home, with shutters hanging off the hinges, and vines have taken over.
The essence of this house is enough to be a nightmare alone, until a shadowy hand snakes from the front door. I try to run, but my legs are like lead, never moving as fast as I will them to. Then the icy fingers grip my ankle and yank me toward the door. I claw along the dirt and gravel, but it pulls me in so quickly my fingers never have a chance to get a good grip.
Then I'm lying on the old wooden floor staring up at the face of a monster. Sharp fang-like teeth somehow glisten in the dark room with red glowing eyes, and fingers like talons looming over me. Just as the shadow creature's hand reaches for my throat, I wake up, covered in sweat and my heart racing.
I've had this dream at least once a week. I can't shake it, and I need a decent night's sleep without waking up in fear.
Grabbing my clip from my nightstand, I twist my hair up and put my glasses on, noticing the clock said 3:20 AM.
"The witching hour. Great," I mutter. The clicking of claws follows close behind me, and I lean down to scratch behind the ear of my Lola. The black Labrador Retriever is my shadow, and on nights like these, I'm grateful I'm not alone.
"You think we can find the house this time?" I ask Lola, her ears perk up, and her head tilts before her tongue lolls out as she pants. "I'll take that as a yes."
I get cozy on the couch with a knitted blanket, and Lola plops up next to me, as close as she can without being on my lap.
"Moonbane" was the word scrawled above the wrought iron gate in a scrolly script before I was dragged into the house. So I type it in again and see if anything new comes up. I'm flooded with book titles, games, and character names, but nothing that's helpful. It's all the same things I've already looked at.
So I throw house at the end of my search. It's all the same. After hours of combing through anything that could lead me closer, I hit dead end after dead end again. The sun has risen, and exhaustion weighs heavily on me. Thankfully, it's Saturday and I don't have work.
"What about a pup cup?" I ask Lola, and she hops up eagerly, wagging her tail, which wiggles her whole body. It's a wonder that she even has a spine with the way her body moves.
I quickly change and grab the leash, and we make our walk into town. After ordering a large pumpkin spice latte, I sit on the patio of the coffee shop while Lola enjoys her cup of whipped cream.
A woman stumbles out the door, holding a cup holder full of coffee, and her stack of papers falls from her hands, hitting the ground and scattering across the pavement.
"Oh shoot," she says sharply. Several blow toward me in the October breeze. Moving quickly, I grab the stray sheets and walk over to help finish grabbing the rest. Lola bounds up to the woman happily, wagging her tail and panting with excitement.
"Oh, hello." The lady chuckles and scratches her ear.
The image on the paper catches my eye and makes my blood run cold; it's the house I've been looking for. It's just as run-down, but the picture was taken during the day, warding off some of the foreboding feelings, but it still looks spooky nonetheless.
"Thank you for you're help. I've been frazzled all morning."
"It's no problem, but um, do you know this house?" I ask as I stare at the stack in my hand, not really reading what I'm looking at because the shock of the picture has kept my eyes glued to it, before handing it to her. She sets her coffee down on the table and hands one back to me.
"Oh yes! This home just came on the market. Are you interested?" Her eyes light up. Probably because there's no way she'll be able to sell this house.
"I am. Are you doing showings?"
"Of course. My number is on the paper. I'm Marcy Pepperbush of Pepperbush Reality." She holds out her hand to me enthusiastically, a huge grin plastered on her face. I shake it.
"Reina Blackwood."
Dread creeps into my stomach as I stare at the photo of the house that has haunted my dreams for six months.
My car's tires crunch over the gravel road. Moonbane is scrawled on the wrought iron gate over the driveway, exactly like my dream, and my stomach sinks as I drive beneath it. Marcy is already waiting near her car for me when I pull up.
"Oh, I'm so glad you were able to find it. That little turn off can easily be missed with all the mature trees near it." She smiles and adjusts her blouse.
"It wasn't an issue," I say, because the house itself called to me. I could tell I was getting closer, almost as if I were navigating by a spiritual link. I made sure to do a protection spell before I came, just in case. I'm also wearing my protective stones and my pentacle bracelet.
"Great. So this home was originally built in 1856 by a man from England." She leans over and lowers her voice. "Old money." She winks before continuing. What she says goes in one ear and out the other because I'm not buying the house. I'm here for answers, and something in there is going to give it to me.
"The last person to live in the house was actually the grandson of the original owner, but no one knew what happened to him."
When we reach the front door, I look over her shoulder to see the code for the lockbox, but she moves to block it.
Shit.
She walks me through the house and finds it isn't as bad as in my dream, but not by much. When we reach the kitchen, there is a hole in the floor, so I'm careful to avoid it, but I notice the back door.
"Is that the back yard?" I ask.
"Oh yes, I almost forgot." She unlocks it, and we step outside, into a large expanse of untamed grass and weeds... And a cemetery further in the distance. "Well, the family isn't far." Marcy chuckles awkwardly and clears her throat. She closes the door, and locks it behind us, but I quickly unlock it again.
"Well, if you follow me, I can show you the upstairs." Marcy leads me from room to room, making a convincing case for purchasing the home and offering potential renovation advice. It wasn't until we made our way back downstairs that I felt the overwhelming sense of being watched. The hairs at the nape of my neck stand on end, and a chill skates down my spine. My eyes land on the spot I've dreamt of the creature hovering over me.
"Well, that's the grand tour," Marcy says as I shiver at the memory. "Do you have any questions?"
"No, but do you mind if I take a quick video of the house to show my fiancée?" The lie comes easily enough.
Marcy smiles at me as if the thought of someone in love made her heart warm. "Of course. I have to check an email. I'll be waiting outside for you."
"Perfect. Thank you, Marcy." She gives me another warm smile and leaves the entryway and walks toward her car.
I had already unlocked the back door, but just in case Marcy comes back in to double-check, I go to one of the side windows and open it just a crack. I can't even tell it's open by looking at it, but it is just enough to give me leverage from the outside when I come back tonight.
As much as I would love to get answers now, I don't think Marcy would appreciate me having a seance while she's here. Or at all, as a matter of fact. I sigh as I leave the house and walk down the front steps.
"Did you get what you needed?" Marcy asks.
"I did. I will let you know what we decide." I say, but her eyes droop a little in disappointment, but she recovers quickly. She can't seriously think it would be that easy to sell this dilapidated mess.
Looking over my shoulder, I take one last look before I drive home.
Dread creeps into my stomach as I come to a stop in the driveway of Moonbane. I don't know who has been reaching out to me, but I'm going to get to the bottom of it.
Grabbing my duffel bag, I pull the strap over my head. "Be a good girl, Lola. Wait for my whistle." Lola stays seated, but her front paws do a happy tippy-tap as she waits anxiously. I make sure the window is completely down so she can get out later, before I face the house.
The crunch of the gravel underfoot seems so loud in the quiet October night. Samhain is a few days away, so if a spirit wants to talk, now is definitely the time. With each step, fear takes root in my stomach and grows into a tangle like a gnarled tree. The feeling of being watched rakes over my skin. The overwhelming feeling to run is a warning going off in my head, but for six months, I have been plagued with that awful dream.
It ends tonight.
I push through the fear and head for the back door. I completely ignore the presence of the gravestones looming not far away, even if it feels like there are a dozen pairs of eyes watching me closely.
I twist the old metal handle to find it locked again.
"Shit." I sigh. "Marcy just had to make this harder for me." This isn't the first time I've broken into a building to talk to ghosts. It's kind of my thing, but a spirit has never been so aggressive in contacting me. That's if this is even a spirit.
I make my way around to the side window, pushing it at. It takes a minute before the squeal of the wooden frame hits my ears. I sigh in relief, which is quickly overshadowed by the fact that I now have to go into the house.
Alone.
At night.
The window gives me a fight before it releases, and I shove it up all the way. I hop up and pull myself through the window, falling to the floor with a loud thud. I lay there silently, waiting for a hint of a disturbance, but none came. Pushing myself up to my feet, I go to the front door, unlock it, and place my fingers between my lips and whistle.
Lola gives an excited yip, then I hear her claws hitting the gravel. A black shadow of the night comes bounding up to me before skidding to a halt on the porch.
Pulling a treat from my pocket, I hold it before her, and she plops her butt down quickly before she takes the treat happily from my hand. I scratch behind her ear as she gives me a special edition of Lola ASMR with her loud crunching.
I set the candles down where I had been beneath the creature every time I had the nightmare, just before the stairs. I can look into the kitchen in one direction and into the main living room in the other. With my back to the front door, I pull out a container of salt. I flip open the spout and create a circle. Then I arrange the candles in a pentagram around me.
I ask my ancestors and spirit guides to protect me before I chant my protective spell. Once that is in place and Lola is lying at my back inside the salt circle, I take a steadying breath.
"Spirits of this house, I ask for the one who has been reaching out to me for six months to show themselves." I try to be as specific and vague as I can to allow the spirit to show up.
The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity.
"Show yourself," I say more forcefully while still being respectful. The last thing I want to do is get a ghost attachment, and they decided to make my life a living hell.
The floor rumbles and the wind picks up. Lola lifts her head and sniffs the air, but remains lying down.
A black mass forms in the kitchen to my right, growing, and the icy fear grips my heart as my breath catches in my throat. Lola growls from behind me, but doesn't move yet. She knows to stay with me unless I give her the cue.
The black mass shifts until a man comes to view. He's dressed in what could be the attire of a farmer from the late 1800s. His hair is longer and tied back. He's handsome and has a well groomed beard.
"Why have you been tormenting me for six months?" I ask. I remain firm and clear with my question.
"I have been calling for much longer than six months." He says, his voice taking on a haunting quality that makes me shiver.
"How long?" I ask.
"Three years. It wasn't until I made the dreams terrifying that you started remembering them." The shock of hearing how long this spirit has been reaching out makes my heart drop.
" Why?" I ask again, hoping to get an answer this time.
"I want to move on, but I'm stuck here."
"So you figured giving me nightmares would work?" I snap at him.
"Well, it worked. Did it not? When I tried making the dreams pleasant, you either ignored me or forgot about them. I had no choice."
I try to remember his face from any of my dreams. A memory of panting and moaning with skin on skin, our bodies moving together, and his passionate kisses on my throat comes rearing back. I inhale sharply as a blush makes my face hot. I clear my throat and try to compose myself when I finally work up the courage to look him in the eyes. He seems oblivious to what I must have remembered, so I push through.
"Did you think maybe to just ask for help instead of scaring the shit out of me for six months?" I ask, my irritation is only getting worse.
"I did not need to know about your excrement, but I apologize if my methods scared you to defecation." The look on this ghost's face was of disgust and horror, but all I could do was roll my eyes at his lack of knowledge of modern-day phrases.
"I didn't actually... You know what, it doesn't matter." I sigh and try to recenter myself. "Where are your bones?" I ask. Typically, spirits that come to me like this haven't been blessed and properly laid to rest. For his spirit to move on, I have to do it.
He turns and points to the hole in the floor. "I had died while making dinner, a heart attack." That struck me as odd, since he looks so young —mid-30s, maybe.
I stand from my spot, and Lola sits up, but doesn't move as she watches me. I grab the flashlight from my duffel bag and point it down into the hole. Sure enough, there is a pile of bones lying in the dirt. I grab every bone I see. Moving back into the circle, I arrange the bones neatly in a pile. Pulling my duffle bag toward me, I grab the At Rest potion. I always have it stocked up for occasions like this.
"Are you sure this will work?" the man asks questioningly.
"Yes. You called me, remember? What is your name, by the way?" I ask so I can make sure the ritual is done correctly.
"Quincy Moonbane." I nod in acknowledgement, and Quincy hovers patiently. "I thought you would have remembered. I'll have to rectify that." I look up at him, and his gaze is telling a story that I'm trying to ignore. The last thing I need is to get distracted by sex dreams.
I start chanting the spell, making sure to do the ritual just as it says in my grimoire.
"Circle, Lola." The lab gets up and walks around the protective circle as I continue to chant. Then I light a stick of incense and hold it so Lola can bite the wooden end as she walks around the circle again. Honestly, I have no idea how I did spells before finding my familiar. She has been the best thing that has happened to me.
Once she finishes her third lap around the salt circle, I take the incense and place it in a holder just before the bones so it can cleanse them. Lola sits next to my duffle bag, her tail wagging. I think she likes it when I start pouring potions. Sometimes it has some rather dramatic effects.
I grab a few more, but I can't seem to find my Grave Sealer potion. I search through the duffle bag, and everything else is getting in the way.
"Everything okay?" Quincy asks.
"Yeah, it's fine," I say, irritated as I continue to shuffle things around and still can't find it. Getting more frustrated by the second, I dump the bag.
Glass shatters and liquid spills along the floor.
"Fuck, no, no no," I mutter, panicked. I have no idea what just broke. I toss the duffel bag aside. It wasn't just one that broke; several did. Some of which I wasn't planning on using tonight.
I came prepared for anything, which means I had an array of potions. When I carefully sift through the glass, I see the tag Rise Again.
An explosion of colorful smoke and light makes me shield my face and eyes. Lola stands back wagging her tail with her tongue lolling out of her mouth. The wind picks up, blowing the smoke away, and when I turn to see the result of my mishap, Quincy is standing there in the flesh.
And there's a chicken.
"What the?" I ask, only to be greeted by a loud cluck as the black chicken runs from the room and out the front door.
"I know that chicken," Quincy says with a smile. He yanks me from the floor, gripping me in a tight hug, and I freeze, unsure what to do. "Thank you, Reina! I have a chance to live again." He says excitedly, jiggling me as he tightens the hug. More of the memory comes flashing before my eyes. His hands roam down my naked body, and I'm arching into his touch. His mouth kisses up my body.
I shake my head, and I can feel my face heat again, and a tug deep in my belly catches my attention. Not the fucking time, Reina... So instead of focusing on that, I ask a basic question.
"Uh, about that. What year did you die?" I ask as my cheek is smooshed to his rather firm chest.
"1902." Quincy finally releases me, but keeps a hold of my shoulders, his eyes finding mine, lingering in a longing way that confirms that the memories I'm having weren't made up.
I look away and clear my throat. "Yeah, it's 2025. We need to catch you up on the times before I release you into the wild."
"The wild? Are you going to leave me in a forest?" His eyes set in shocked horror, and I can't help the chuckle that escapes.
"No, what I mean is I can't just leave you to fend for yourself in today's world."
"Ahh. Yes, that would be difficult to navigate." He lets go of my shoulders and wipes his hands down his shirt as his stomach gumbles loudly.
"You hungry?" I ask and he nods. "Let's get some food."
Quincy turns around and grabs a knife off the kitchen counter that I hadn't even realized was there, and heads for the door.
"Whoa. What are you doing?" I ask, backing away a step. Any sense of lust is now gone as he brandishes a weapon.
"I'm going to go get the chicken and prepare us a meal." Quincy stops as he points the knife out the door.
"Um, maybe let's not." I grab the knife from his hand and leave it on an old accent table. "We can get food after I clean up," I say as a nod over my shoulder.
Lola has dutifully been waiting by the spellwork. "Release," I say, and she bounds up to Quincy, jumping up and landing her front paws on his chest.
"What a beautiful lady." Quincy scratches behind her ear and tilts her head into his hand while giving an appreciative groan.
"She likes you," I say as I finish putting the rest of my candles and potions back in the bag.
I use my handheld besom and sweep the salt into a pile. Turning toward the front door, I blow at the salt and it floats up and out the door, landing scattered in the gravel outside. I sweep up the glass next and place it in an empty bag. I get most of it, but my besom can't get every sliver. I put everything away and turn to Quincy, who is still happily petting Lola.
"Have you had hamburgers before?" I ask.
"I have not. A cousin of mine had tried one at a fair in Wisconsin once. He said they were delicious." His eyes lit up at the thought.
"Well, I'm about to blow your mind." I grab the back of his elbow and tug him along. When I let go, he loops his arm around my elbow, places my hand on his forearm, and lays his hand on top of mine.
"You've already done that." He smiles at me, and a blush creeps over my cheeks again.
Just as we get close to the car, the chicken races in front of us, clucking away.
Lola goes to chase, but I stop her. "Come, Lola. We're getting burgers." She skids to a halt and runs to the car. I hold the back door open for her, and she plops on the back seat happily. Quincy is sitting in the passenger seat when I get in the driver's side.
"Seat belt," I say as I start the car's ignition.
"What?" He asks, puzzled. I just realized it's very possible this is his first time in a car, and the way he is looking at everything like it's some alien tech leads me to believe it is.
Leaning over him, I grab the seatbelt, and as I pull it over, our eyes lock for a moment; his gaze is knowing and heated. There is a magnetism that keeps me frozen as the tension between us seems to grow with each breath. I clear my throat and click the belt in, and do the same for mine.
"I know a great diner that has some killer burgers," I say, and I look at Quincy, who looks absolutely horrified. I laugh at his expense but explain.
"It's just a saying. They won't actually kill you; they're just delicious." He lets out a sigh of relief as I put the car in drive and we leave Moonbane in the dust.