Dream Stone

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.

"That's the thing, Mel . . ."

"Come on, no need to keep it secret. We're friends Sam and we've all done it once upon a time."

"Well, that's it. He wouldn't take any money, just the few pesos I had given him for the photo. I so didn't want to upset him, so I rummaged around, picking up one piece after another. I'd give them the once over, then put them back down. They were all tourist tat, not even remotely like the real thing.

So

not what I wanted."

"And, don't tell me. Then he pulled one out from under the table?"

"How did you," I yawned mid-sentence, "know Mel?"

"It's the oldest trick in the book. You think you are getting something special. It's just that the price is higher for yet another piece of fakery."

"I told you though. He didn't take anything. You're spot on though. As if by magic, another one did appear from nowhere. Maybe as you said, he had it under the table. He called it a dream-stone."

I thought for a moment, before continuing.

"What did he say? Oh, yes, I remember. The ancient Mayan's believed that the dream-stone was a gateway to another world, a world where dreams could become reality. Another load of tourist bullshit I thought to myself, but I still fell in love with it. Yes, I know. It is nothing more than a cheap replica, but it had a . . . a . . . a sort of warmth about it. It seemed older than the others, a bit more weathered, and a bit more realistic. The feel was different, I guess more like stone than resin. As I said though, it felt warm. No, not warm in temperature, stone after all is always cold. It was warm as if it had soul, and I loved it for what it was. My little piece of tourist tat, but a memory of a nice time away."

Mel laughed. I guess she had heard it all before. As I had meandered my way into history and museums, Mel had moved into the travel industry. In fact, it was Mel who had made all the arrangements for my latest adventure in Mexico. So, I guess she

had

heard it all before.

I yawned once more, rubbing again at my now slightly red eyes.

"I tell you what, Mel. Why don't you come around and look for yourself? Then you'll see what I mean. It may be tat, but it didn't cost me anything and at least I made one old man happy."

"You know what, Sam. I might just do that."

There was a knowing wink in her eye as she replied to my invitation. A knowing, told you so, type of wink.

"Are you okay though Sam?" she continued. "You seem awfully tired, and you're rubbing your eyes a lot."

Another yawn summed it up.

"I'm fine Mel, just not been sleeping so well since I got back."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should pop in at the docs and get yourself checked over."

"Oh, I'm sure. It's nothing like that, and you know me and doctors don't get on. It's just that I've . . . "

How could I say it? I know we were like best friends forever, but sometimes there were things which seemed so silly that you wanted to keep them to yourself.

"Come on Sam. Out with it. You can tell Auntie Mel."

It was the way she smiled which did it. A sweet, enticing smile which just couldn't be resisted. And then there was the Auntie Mel piece. Mel was actually a year younger than me, but she'd always been there and always had the right answer when you needed it. So, the Auntie piece just seemed to fit.

"I've been having dreams."

Mel laughed. "Everyone has dreams, Sam."

"Yes, I know. But everyone doesn't have the sort which end up with you waking in a hot sweat, panting for breath and hurting all over." I lifted the sleeve of my top and pointed at the bruise on my arm. "That was after the first dream, and now I have a similar one on my ankle. I really don't know what's happening to me these days."

"Mmmm, I see," replied Mel, pondering before continuing her response. "Tell you what, why don't I come and stay for a few nights? Maybe that'll help you get back to normal. What do you say Sam? We can have a few girlie nights in."

"Would you?"

"For you Sam, I'd love to."

I couldn't help myself. Opening my arms, I leant forward and embraced my friend. She really was the best. It was at times like this that I wished we were together . . . forever. That though, was a story for another day.

Arrangements made, Mel was going to come over at the weekend and stay for a week or so. I had a spare room so really there was no issue, and after all we lived only a few miles apart, so there wasn't even a problem with getting to work.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Several days had passed and, apart from a most enjoyable time with Mel — and plenty of good sleep to boot — nothing had really happened. There hadn't even been the slightest hint of those dreams, at least not until the night before Mel was due to leave.

That night had been no different to any other. I guess I was a little saddened that Mel was leaving, and yes, we'd had a drop of wine to celebrate the end of the week, but other than that it was a normal evening. Normal, that was, until the early hours of the morning. The early hours of the morning, when the night took a very strange turn of events.

Once again, I was the running girl, bounding through that forbidden forest, fleeing from my unseen pursuers. Deeper and deeper I headed into the wilderness, running through ever decreasing gaps in the thickening woodland. I could feel the sharp pain as I brushed against the undergrowth, branches, twigs and spikes all snagging on my top, ripping holes in the fabric. A reddening patch mid-arm told of my struggle to continue onwards. Glancing around, all that I could see were those red eyes, those piercing red eyes. Deep piercing red, the sign of danger, was all around me.

Onwards I ran, back into that transfixed state, unaware of quite where I was, or the damage being done, but simply intent on escaping. My heart was thumping and sweat was running down my increasingly exposed flesh, the nightshirt soon starting to look like a sodden, shredded rag. Up ahead,

yes

, there in front of me, was a light. It was so close, yet so far away. Light could only mean safety and I doubled my efforts, jumping over fallen branches as I dodged through the remaining trees. I raised my hopes, a light, maybe a house, maybe a road, either way it was a way out of this nightmare.

I could feel my hidden aggressors gaining on me, pushing me forward from behind whilst narrowing my path from the sides. Whether I wanted to or not, which I did anyway, they were herding me towards the light. The only problem was that I hadn't realised what they were up to. I swear I could feel their breath on my exposed skin, setting hairs on end, as I struggled through these last steps.

And then I was free . . . out of the darkness and into the light. It wasn't a road. There wasn't a house in sight. I was in an almost circular clearing, devoid of all undergrowth barring a covering of ankle high grass. The light was coming from a full moon above, providing an eerie silvery glow. I was alone, my pursuers seeming not to want to enter this moonlit sanctuary. Alone I might have been but, for now at least, I was safe.

Gasping for breath, I bent over at the waist before finally crouching down. My nightshirt was a torn mess, the white cotton tinged red in several places. I ran my hands over my skin, feeling for the worst, but apart from a few scratches it seemed that I had survived without too much damage. Glancing around I took in my surroundings. There was nothing here except for a stone object in the centre of the clearing. Even from this distance it had a familiarity, the stone adorned with carvings much like those I'd seen on my recent trip. It was around waist high, pretty much rectangular and the length of a large man. Coffin was the first thing which came into my mind, or more to the point, the scientifically accurate word of sarcophagus.

What was it doing here though? And more importantly, what was I going to do next?

I knew I couldn't go back the way I had come; those eyes were still visible though the thickness of the trees. The only option would be to continue onwards. Maybe I could make a dash for it and get a head start, after all they seemed incapable of entering this clearing. I plucked up courage, stood wearily to my feet, and filled myself for another effort. I could still see red eyes glaring at me from behind. Slowly I took one or two paces towards the stone object before, in an effort at trickery, I sprinted full on towards the other side of the clearing.

I gasped loudly, my heart missing a beat at the sight ahead. There was no option. I stopped, hard in my tracks, as more eyes loomed out of the shadows, staring back at me. I dashed to the side and once more the same. They would not enter, but I could not leave either. I was about to sit and cry when a voice came from behind, taking me by surprise.