The dream was savagely real to me, and the duality of it was conflicting. The Mike swathed in darkness had no idea who the voice was or what he was saying, but the sleeping voyeur knew exactly what was happening, and even asleep I could feel the sob building deep in my chest. “Trip? You’re alive?” This I said aloud; Tracy bore witness to it, sleeping next to me as I’d awakened her with my calling out.
“Ponch? Is that you?” I nearly started awake. I was no longer watching from a safe vantage point, I was an active participant. The BT in the dream had heard something and was looking around. The strata of strangeness going on at this very moment was overwhelming. Dream Mike and dream BT were in very real danger; I could not be sure if it was happening right this very moment or already had, and truth be told, what the hell was I going to do about it? He’d already broken the cardinal rule of every horror movie everywhere by going downstairs, I thought I had taught him better. At least he went with a friend.
“Where are you, Trip?”
“I’m not sure; I was pretty wasted last night while Stephanie drove the tour bus. I do know it snew last night.”
“Snew? What the fuck is a snew, Trip?”
“Middle English dialectal, past tense for snow.”
“Wha…?” I was shaking my head in my dream. I had gone from overseer to first-person shooter perspective. I was in the basement; luckily, I was not dealing with the mist. I was staring at a shimmering doorway; it was slightly better than a glass privacy door in a shower, but not by much. I was thankful that Trip appeared clothed; with him, nothing was a certainty. My heart surged with the idea that some of them had made it…including the crazy bastard.
“Stephanie says we’re out West somewhere; our paths will cross soon. Be careful, man. We have company.” And just like that, the doorway began to lose its translucence. “BYE, Bye, bye, b….” Trip had not moved; he was just saying each word softer and softer to give the effect that he was backing away.
“Still here, Trip.”
“I was going for flare, Ponch.”
“I think showing up in my dream was enough flare.”
“Just remember Payne….”
“Wait, what about her!?” Of course, this was when he really did fade out. Had a conversation about snew, but couldn’t be bothered to tell me about Payne, a vicious vampire.
“And Iggy!” drifted back.
“The gorilla?” I let barely escape my lips after pondering the name for a minute.
“What gorilla?” BT, on the stairs, asked.
“What are you talking about?” other Mike asked.
This was going far past the realm of delusion, I don’t know what the word for that would be, but I was living it. I had every intention of pinching myself and extracting my consciousness from whatever this was. That was right up until I saw the three men against the far wall in the basement. They were all in heaps near each other but not touching. They were unmoving in that particular way; I knew they were dead, and that wasn’t the worst part. There were deep scratches in the rock and cement behind them that were outlined in crimson. On closer inspection, I would have been able to tell without a doubt that they had been attempting to claw their way out and had died from the effort. This Mike and BT were very much in danger; what kind of shadowy presence would I be if I didn’t help them?
“Bulkhead! There’s a bulkhead over here!” I screamed, making sure I would be heard. Funny thing about whatever this place was, the louder I spoke, the less they heard. Damn near gave myself an aneurysm before I figured that little tidbit out. “Bulkhead. There’s a bulkhead straight ahead.” This, not much above a whisper.
I noticed that Other Mike was now completely covered, and BT was nearly so.
“I can’t see anything…breathing is getting difficult.” Other Mike was laboring.
“We need to go back.” BT’s voice was rising in alarm. What would a good haunted house be, if not determined? The basement door slammed shut, cutting off what little light had been able to filter down.
I wasn’t sure if the bulkhead was a viable option for escape, but there were no windows, and scraping through rock had proved ineffective.
“The door out is straight ahead and slightly to the left when you get to the far wall.” I could see Other Mike and BT struggling to get through the murkiness, their hands outstretched, feeling for obstacles, eyes opened wide and unblinking in the hopes some errant ray of light would find its way to them. As for me, I was cloaked in that preternatural greenish-brown color that often happens in nightmarish dreams. While I most likely could not read a book by it, I could still see perfectly well. Shadow figures began to peel themselves from the darker recesses in the basement. One took note of me as it passed by, but I, for some reason, was untouchable to it in this realm. O.M. and BT seemed to be fair game though.
“Something’s coming,” I whispered, afraid if I said it any louder the thing would find a way to cross realms.
“Could you be a little more specific?” O.M. asked.
“You are not talking to the disembodied voice, are you? It could be a trick.” BT frowned at O.M. and shook his head.
“Got any better ideas? We’re already trapped; seems like no point in adding further insult.”
“Guess you don’t understand the minds of psychopaths then. They thrive on that shit,” BT answered.
“Been called a lot of things but not…wait, scratch that. I had an old girlfriend in high school call me that, but in fairness, she was REALLY pissed I had fooled around with her friend, and I don’t think she used it in the right context,” I said aloud.
“Cathy Gregory,” O.M. replied. “I could never get over the fact her nickname was Gregs; just felt weird to be kissing someone with a masculine name.”
“You let homophobia wreck a relationship?” BT asked.
“I was seventeen. Wasn’t like it was going to last, and I was a lot stupider back then.”
“Back then huh?”
“Guys…they’re moving slow but not that slow. Get your asses moving!” I whispered a shout. It worked.
“We listening to that voice?” BT asked.
“You’d better,” I told him.
Other Mike and BT had finally got to the last step and stepped onto the floor, both had their arms out, making sweeping gestures with them. “I don’t know how, BT, but that voice is mine.”
“Fucking great. World isn’t screwed up enough, now there are two of you.”
“Gonna have to trust me on this. The far side is twenty-five feet ahead; keep your arms to your sides and move quickly,” the me having the dream said. (This was confusing for me…can’t imagine what this is like for those reading my journal.)
The shadows were converging; I didn’t know what would happen if they touched O.M. or BT, but I got the feeling it wouldn’t be good.
“NOW!” O.M. jolted at my command, but did as I asked. “BT, keep your goddamned arms to your side!”
“I don’t like you, and I don’t like you,” BT referred to us both.
O.M. and BT had passed by three of the four specters, one so narrowly I saw BT shiver from the near contact. The fourth had parked itself directly in their path.
“Quick left for five feet!”
O.M. was slow to react; BT nearly took him out, but made sure to keep him on his feet as he grabbed his shoulders and heaved up.
“Turn right. Ten feet dead ahead.”
“Really?” BT asked, questioning my wording. “Now I know it’s you.”
“Steps,” I warned them a fraction of a second too late. O.M. went down hard; BT almost made sure O.M. never had any more kids or sex, as his foot came down dangerously close to the other’s crotch. Again, he picked him up by the shoulders and deposited him down. “Bulkhead.” Again I was too late in warning, but this time it was on O.M., I had told him there was a bulkhead; what did he think was going to happen? As he climbed the stairs, there was a resounding gong as his head smacked hard into the slanted metal doorway.
“Fuck! I think I got a stinger!” he shouted, his head bent at an angle that was hurting me just looking at it.
“Hey! Other pain in the ass! Where’s the handle?” BT demanded.
“Above your head to the right,” I told him. I could see him fumbling around for it, then I lost sight of them both as four spirits floated in and were now between me and them. One turned; an unnaturally long finger first pointed at me and then dragged across its neck. Didn’t need a demonology dictionary to decipher that. “Hurry up!”
“Like I’m taking my sweet ass time,” BT grunted. “Frozen.” I heard the tinkle of metal parts as they cascaded down from the door and onto the cement steps. Then I had to turn my head from the brilliant light that shone through. BT had pushed the doors open so hard, one had completely become unhinged and hung off to the side. He and Mike were through, and to what I hoped was safety. I was also going to vacate the premises, as my neck dragging buddy turned back to me. I also showed him a finger, different gesture, though, as I pulled myself free from whatever the hell that was I had been in.
I sat up. I was bathed in sweat. Tracy had just come out of the bathroom; she’d been getting ready for her day at school. “You all right?” she asked, concerned.
“Trip’s alive!” I let the rest of the dirty remembrance fall away from me. To her credit, she didn’t question me on how crazy that sounded or how I could possibly have known. “Now I just have to find him.”