She was dreaming again. She must be. Hazel clearly remembered deciding never to return to the blasted tree, yet here she was, approaching the place where it all started. Worse, it was nighttime, and there was barely enough light to see by. Yes, it had to be a dream, albeit a very detailed and realistic one. She could see her own skin glowing softly in the dim moonlight as she trudged towards the dark and menacing tree. Her nipples tightened into hard knots, her pelvic muscles clenched as the cold wind blew in from the sea.
It had to be a dream also because she was naked and she was unable to stop herself from walking right up to the base of the tree, right to the same spot where she had first "encountered" the doll that seemed to have taken over her life. She remembered her earlier dream of sitting on the bedknob in her matrimonial bedroom and wondered how it related to her predicament. Was she remembering something that actually happened, or that she wished happened? Or was it just her mind's way of dealing with what was happening to her physically, in her own bedroom?
She shuddered at the thought that the doll's head had somehow intruded into her body while she slept. What was its purpose? And why did it choose her? Did she do something to offend someone or something?
She was now standing at the exact spot she had settled down in, the previous weekend. As it had appeared the following day, the sand looked completely undisturbed. She thought it would have been perturbing, had it not been for the fact that this was a dream. She clearly remembered how she had tried so hard to dig up the sand in her efforts to find out what had attacked her, before... the crazy old man appeared.
Oh god. The old man. Would he appear in her dream? Would he do something to her, after seeing her in the nude like this? Hazel wanted desperately to cover up her bits just in case, but her hands only fluttered at her sides, unable to respond to her mental commands.
Oh no. There he was. He was walking towards her. Even though it was just a dream, Hazel didn't think she would be able to accept the thought of the man with the crazy eyes attempting to do to her what Kevin had tried to do. No. Not him. Please. I need to wake up.
Wait. Something was wrong. Hazel looked down, and saw that her feet had disappeared into the sand. She was sinking into the soft, warm sand. She was already buried up to her knees. She struggled to raise her right foot out of the sand, but the sand was sucking at her limbs, refusing to reliquish its hold on her. Her eyes flew to the approaching figure of the crazy old man, and back down again.
No, no. Not here. Not the crazy old man. Not in my dream. I don't want to be here. She managed to raise her right foot clean off the sand, stretched it out and tried to plant it on the root just behind her. Except that the root seemed to move at the last moment, and her foot sank right into the sand again, up to her knee. The action had, unfortunately, left her trapped with her thighs wide apart. Her privates were now open and vulnerable. He would see her like that. He would put something into her soft, exposed opening. Oh god.
He was near enough for her to see his crazy eyes now. They looked as wild as before, except now they seemed to burn with purpose. She started. Did he want to..? No, he didn't want to fuck her. He wanted to do something else.
She would have screamed if she had been able to, when she saw what was in his right hand. It was a doll. the same one whose head she had found in her panties when she felt something falling out of her. She struggled even harder. The crazy man, he was going to shove that into her... her vulva began to tingle at the thought. As he came right up in front of her, the tingling turned into a crazy, out-of-control itching that spread into her vagina, up towards her womb. Oh god. No. He was preparing to...
Suddenly, she realised that the old man wasn't paying attention to her at all. His eyes were unfocused, and he was chanting something under his breath. It seemed he was directing his chants at the doll in his hand. Her sudden sense of relief immediately dissipated when he swung his arm up. What was he doing? Would he hit her..?
His arm swept down, and the doll was thrown feet first into the area directly underneath her pubis. She watched as the toy sank into the soft sand, the way her feet had. Oh. So that's how it got there. Maybe he doesn't see me. I'm just... looking into the past. I'm not here, she thought. The old man turned to walk away, paying no attention to her at all. Maybe she was right -- this dream was a kind of recollection of events that had happened before she chose to sit at the precise spot where the doll was buried. But... would the dream also explain why it got into..?
