Copyright © September 2018 by CiaoSteve
CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work.
This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
Author's Notes
Foreword #1: All characters in this story are over 18
Foreword #2: This is pure fantasy and intended to be so. The storyline could not happen in real life so please bear this in mind when reading.
Foreword #3: This is an entry for the 2018 Halloween Story Competition. I do hope you enjoy and would welcome your comments/votes.
Foreword #4: Thank you so much to mbrow for being kind enough to read the draft story and provide his edits. Very much appreciated, as always.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I ran.
It was all I could do. I had to keep going, as fast as I could. Daylight had already faded into dusk, but still I continued. I knew not where I was going, just that I could not stop. Somebody, maybe something, was out there. I couldn't see them, yet I knew, sensed, they were there, waiting for my one stumble.
I was breathing heavily, gasping for air as I crossed the open grassland. There were trees in the distance and maybe they would provide a little shelter, even safety. Muscles burnt with every onward step, my progress now driven by pure adrenaline. Through knee-length grass I charged, heading for the sanctuary ahead. Grass passed into shrubland and finally into the thinnest of woods. I dodged between trunks and branches as I continued, pounding a path deeper and deeper into the darkening woodland.
Still I sensed they were there, out of sight but not out of mind.
Something was pulling at me. I stopped and glanced down. It was nothing more than a small branch snagged in the arm of my loose-fitting nightshirt. It was the first time I had noticed, even taken stock of what I was wearing. Here I was, charging through an unknown land, being pursued by an unknown assailant, dressed in nothing more than my white cotton nightshirt. Standing still, it didn't take long for the chill of the evening breeze to seep through the thin fabric. I felt it first in the tender flesh of my young breasts and knew in an instant that I wasn't wearing much else underneath. It was almost as if I had jumped straight out of bed and found myself running for my life.
A sound in the distance, maybe the snap of a broken branch, convinced me there was no time to rest. Onwards I went, deeper and deeper into the undergrowth. By now it was difficult to find a clear path through the dense vegetation. I could feel it tugging at me, grabbing at my clothes from all sides. I knew though that I had to continue, just had to.
And then I felt it. A stabbing pain in one arm. Instinctively, I stopped. I grabbed down with my free arm, expecting to find a pool of blood, and was relieved to feel nothing more than a slight tear in my top. I could feel the pain beneath, my skin on fire from the sudden impact. Quickly I grabbed a few deep gasps of air, knowing I would need my strength to move forward. Which way now, that was the question. Like a scared animal — maybe that's what I was, just an animal fleeing ahead of the hunt — I weighed up the options. My head was jerking from side to side, glancing into the darkness for just a glimmer of safety.
My scream pierced the quiet of the woodland, as there just in front of me, no more than a couple of trees away, were a pair of . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I shot up in bed, twisting from side to side, once again surveying the scene. Yes, it was still my room, the one I slept in most nights, but something was different. I was alone, that was a relief. A glance at the alarm clock, the LEDs glowing red in the darkness told me it was three in the morning. Glowing red, that was it, that was what I had seen, they were glowing red between the trees.
I was panting, out of breath, my clothes soaked in perspiration. I could feel my heart pumping faster than ever. My legs ached and then there was the pain in my left arm. Gently I reached down and pressed just where it hurt.
"Ouch!" I gasped without speaking.
I glanced down. A bruise was already forming underneath the tear in my nightshirt. It had been a dream, but what a dream. I knew it couldn't be the case but, for all intents and purposes, it seemed that I had lived every step in my sleep. I'd never had a dream the like of it before and for sure I didn't want another.
Needless to say, I wasn't going to get any more sleep that night. Having tossed and turned for an hour or two, I finally decided to do something about it. It was still early, the dawn chorus not quite in full flow, as I turned on the shower. Waiting for the water to warm up, I glanced in the full length mirror and examined the young woman looking back at me. She was just as I remembered her, around five foot six, petite in frame with a lightly tanned complexion. It was the hair though which wasn't quite right. My shoulder length black locks were now looking like they had been dragged through a hedge backwards.
Other than that, I was the same Sam West that had gone to bed the night before. Oh, yes, other than the hair and the tear in my nightshirt. I glanced down and examined the small rip once more, imagining quite how it could have happened. Slowly I removed the white cotton garment and looked once more in the mirror. Running my eyes up and down the reflection, I scanned myself for injury. There was a bruise on my left arm, about where the tear was in the nightshirt but other than that I was unscathed. My eyes continued their examination, watching closely as I removed my knickers. Yes, I was the same Sam West. I had always been small, the tiniest of frames, with the slightest of curves around my hips and bust. With the mirror fogging up, I glanced down at my breasts. They were a cute B cup, but still I saw them as my greatest asset, the pert pale mounds each topped off by a darkened nub. Happy that at least it was the same person standing here that had turned in that night before, I dived into the shower intent on washing away those memories.
For the next few nights all went back to normal and I practically put the whole event behind me, that was until it happened once more.
It was just the same.
I ran, through grasslands, shrubbery and then into woodlands. Onwards and onwards I ran, once more my body on fire, but knowing I couldn't stop. Everywhere I looked, they were there, pairs of glowing red eyes following me through the trees. I'd turn and dart in different directions, only to face the red glow staring straight back at me. It was as if I was the prey and these eyes were shepherding me to my slaughter. A pack of wolves wearing me down until I could go no further.
This time I wasn't going to stop. Whatever it took, I was going to make it out of there. I was running blindly, paying little attention to where I was, other than to spot the gaps between the trees. I never saw the branch across my path. Never, until it was too late. I felt the pull at my foot and down I went, the wind knocked right out of my sails. I could already feel the warmth of their breath blowing across my neck. Lifting my head up I came face to face with . . .
Once more I screamed, and once more I shot up in bed. It was just like the last time. Again, I had lived that dream. I was soaked in sweat, my chest heaving as I gasped for breath and my heart was pumping inside. I glanced at the clock -- this time it was not much more than three thirty. What I didn't see though, was the slightest green glow, fading away into the darkness. The source, if I had chanced a glance in that direction was coming from somewhere on top of my dressing table.
I stood up and immediately stumbled as the pain in my ankle hit me. Grabbing at the mattress I managed to steady myself before I hit the floor. I reached down and felt at the troublesome joint. It wasn't sprained but for sure was painful. I could see the redness across the top and suddenly remembered falling in my dream. Once more it seemed that I was feeling in real life the things which had happened in my imagination.
I was scared. Why was this suddenly happening to me and why only in this week? It had been the same dream, just that I had lived it a little longer the second time than the first.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was a few days later, over coffee, that the subject came up once more. I'd known Mel since our schooldays. She was the best of friends that you could ever wish for. Yes, we parted when we both went off to University, but by chance we both ended up more or less back where we started. Now in our late twenties, we had very different lives, but there was just that something which kept us together.
I'd arranged this meet, the intention being to show off my photos from a recent trip to Uxmal, one of the ancient Mayan cities in what is now Mexico. I just had a fascination with history and it came as no surprise that I had taken a job in a museum after graduation. This trip though was pleasure rather than work.
We sat, and over a couple of steaming cappuccinos, I started sharing. It was so easy these days, with the advent of digital photography, memories were there in an instant.
"These, Mel," I continued "are Uxmal. That one is the Pyramid of the Old Woman . . . Great Pyramid . . . Governor's Palace . . . Pyramid of the Magician . . ."
There were hundreds of photos and I could tell by the speed that Mel was flicking through them that she wasn't so interested. I guessed that once you had seen one pyramid then you had seen a thousand. Every now and again she would stop for a moment, ask a question or two about a specific photo, and then move on at top speed.
"And this one, Sam?" came Mel's latest question.
I glanced down. Out of all the photos she could have stopped at, she had chosen a rather nondescript one of an old Mexican man next to a market stall. I yawned, before explaining.
"He was cute, you've got to believe me Mel. Couldn't understand much of what he said, what with my poor Spanish and the like, but he was so sweet. Had a market stall not far from the pyramids. You know, selling all the usual tourist tat. Copies of ancient stuff but made from the best quality modern resin and aged to look like they were the genuine article."
I yawned again, rubbing gently at my eyes.
"Well, he wouldn't take no for an answer, so I suggested that I took a photo instead. I took this one and gave him a few pesos, but he still wouldn't leave off."
"You didn't Mel . . . tell me you didn't fall for it. They are all the same. When I was in Egypt they would keep going until you parted with your hard-earned cash for a piece of rubbish. You didn't . . . did you?"
I guess the wry smile gave it away.
"Oh Sam, how much did you give him?"
I rubbed my eyes once more, the tiredness of those sleepless nights catching up with me.
