This Venomous Dream

Blinding, blurring bright veiled everything. Every sense, every thought, vanished and replaced by something so much more important, more critical; how could she have been so caught up in things that didn’t matter?








“Just keep moving damn it, just one step at a time . . . we can rest when we’re dead.” I goaded myself as my feet pounded against the dirt of my moon soaked driveway, and with grim realization silently added, “Which may be very soon if we continue to be so unlucky . . .” The normally seamless black of the sky was set on fire by thousands of stars, all burning brilliantly to show me the deeper shadows the dark hid so well. It had been years since the sky was more than a blank canvas devoid of previous life, but it seems The Greater Beings were returning to the heavens; and just in time. Despite my incessantly miserable situation, I couldn’t deny the glimmer of hope I felt when being lead by the bodies of heaven. Maybe they hadn’t completely deserted us to the gods’ messengers.






Coming to a halt, I dropped my elbows to rest on my knees; ragged, gurgling breaths tearing into my lungs as I lifted my suddenly heavy head to survey my home. As the adrenaline faded from my body I began to feel every minute pain I had acquired from my recent escape; my insides felt torn and my skin was slick with blood and sweat. What was worse was the sharp pain of dismay embedded beneath my sternum as I stared at my childhood home shrouded in intense despair, black as midnight regardless of the dazzling orbs above lighting my way. Something sinister and treacherous was at work there.






Between being weary and wary I slowed my pace and walked towards the building. Regardless of the physical agony I was slowly succumbing to, I had to mentally stop myself from charging through my front garden and into my house; I had been running away for so long I needed those walls and more than anything wanted to see that they were secure. Thoughts of my family in jeopardy stung my eyes and stirred up the anxious piece of me that worried I was still being followed by my captors, who were so intent on seeing me dead. My mind refused to allow me to let my guard down because of the familiarity of The Property; I knew full well of the dangers that lurked here. They had obviously been at work since my absence, more openly so since The Veil tore and the Fall-Out between mortals and everything else began.






Just as I was halfway through the front garden, my blundering thoughts were put to a stop by a familiar voice that issued a tornado of emotions within me. “Psst! Shannon!” I turned my head, hoping to see the brothers I had been missing so terribly during my days of captivity; and there they were, blue eyes and fire hair matching my own. Christopher and Patrick were staring at me wide-eyed and breathless; they were just as surprised and relived to see me in one piece as I was to see them. Relief quickly gave way to seriousness in my eldest brother’s eyes; his military training over-riding his affectionate side like it always did. “It’s good you’ve made it back, we’re in a bit of a jam . . .” Patrick’s eyes darted to the unnaturally shaded house and back to me, assessing my condition. “Are you alright? You look like hell.” I felt every inch of it too. I opened my mouth, to say what, I am unsure, but before I could stammer out any reply Chris’ warbling voice silenced everything in me. “We thought you were lost to us . . . we. . .” ducking his face from my sight, I could see by his shaking shoulders he was wrecked with emotion; sobbing as quietly as he could. His tears reflected in my own eyes and I began to run my hobbled broken body over to his side until Patrick held up an authoritative palm. “Please, don’t make any sudden movements. The Elders are just beyond this row of trees, in their usual spot. We can’t attract attention to ourselves. You understand . . .” Patrick trailed off, a sense of  regret in his voice. I did understand that the Elders were dangerous creatures, but I didn’t understand why he didn’t want me close to him. . . I nodded my head numbly, everything about me wanting to rest next to my big brothers but I knew by the polished wooden armor and swords they donned that they had been through too much for my selfish desires to ruin their efforts now.






The Elders were a sort of creature that had always existed on our plane, but had only a fright-effect on us humans. They were what made the moonless nights scary and the woods unnerving; they were the scare that triggered our fear. Now that The Veil had been torn they could take a physical presence in our world, and only the fallen bodies of the forest that contained them before could harm them. The Elders had swarmed our homes when The Great Fall-Out first occurred and we learned quickly what had to be done to destroy and keep them from continuing to kill. They had gone after one of our cats once and Chris being the impulsive, hurting boy he was took a fallen branch to the creepy bastard and literally tore a gaping hole in The Elders chest. Since then we had fashioned make-shift armors and swords from the timber we could get to, but by the looks of Pat and Chris’ refined breastplates and shields; they had vastly improved the concept since I had left to find word of the world outside our little woodland.






Snuffling his nose a bit and running a sweaty palm against his messily curling ginger hair, Chris turned back to me and gave me that goofy lopsided grin he wore so well, even in times of trouble. “You know how those creeps and us have been going at it for ages now; this is the last of ‘em and they think we vacated a while back,” Chris jerked his head towards a spot on the ground nearby where a few empty food cans and MRE’s were strewn about, “we have been hiding out in the thick hedges here for a few days hoping to catch them in one of their silly little rituals and now that the stars came back and everything, we might get our chance to end this!” something glimmered in his eyes; I couldn’t tell if it was excitement or insanity. Hell, maybe it was both. Patrick finally smiled at me and I could see his heart breaking and warming all at once across his face, he was really hoping this could be the end of a long, tedious war for us. I had left awhile back but I knew that even over the short period of time I had battled these fiends, they had been constantly evolving into more intelligent, clever beasts that had even grown quite capable in the black magicks; I knew this was an important night and I was glad to be here for it. Returning with a wolfish grin of my own, I disregarded my bloodied state and reported for sisterly duty, “What should I do?”






Patrick glanced cautiously through the thick line of trees, spotting the circle of Elders congregating in their usual spot of tiger lilies and bleeding hearts. Biting his lip and looking back at me he spoke decisively. “Go around the other side of the front garden; sneak around back as we interrupt the Elders little garden party. We’ll be doing our best out here but you need to get inside; I have no idea what they’ve done to the place and I’m not about to surrender all my memories and possessions to these . . . bastards.” Something venomous and unfamiliar crept into Pats voice as his hard features clenched into one malicious expression. Even though we had been talking for awhile and the Elders appeared to be pretty caught up in themselves, Patrick still kept me at an arm’s length and I couldn’t understand. Unless. . .






I flung my head in his direction, eyes deep blue and searching when I asked, “They did something to you, didn’t they?” His face a neutral mask, I stepped closer, grabbing his wrist, looking him flat in the face. “What did they do to make you cold to me?” I demanded. “No!” Patrick growled as he jerked his hand from my grasp. All three of us stared in horror and confusion as his arm convulsed, his fingers finding their way tightly around my neck. Stars and birds and all sorts of things seemed to explode across my vision as my already greedy lungs begged for more air. I heard hurried whispers, or maybe it was shouting, it was hard to hear when it felt like a freight train was bouncing around in my head and everything was fading to white. . .






I awoke to a skull made of eggshells and a brain like a rock. I couldn’t seem to find enough air anywhere and the stars were blinding my unfocused eyes. I was starting to get really sick of getting my ass kicked. When I finally got up the courage to lift my head, I felt like I was being plunged underwater. Everything was swimming until I set my pupils on the ensuing battle between what looked like two men with manes of fire and three spindly reptiles; Pat and Chris, of course. I weakly rubbed my fingertips across the burning skin of my neck, trying to fight down the painful tears I felt welling in my eyes. Looking closely; I realized that Patrick wasn’t fighting The Elders so much as he was fighting himself and as I saw my fearless, heroic brother flinch against their jagged fangs comprehension hit me. “Venom. “ I whispered scathingly. I understood it now, things had really gotten a whole hell of a lot more complicated since the time I first left; my own brother was turning into the very thing we fought against.






Rage seizing my heart and burning away some of my pain, I got to my feet and ran (run, limp swiftly; no difference to me) down past the little patch of lilies and battle drama and down into the dark, hallow shade engulfing my house. I could feel the difference of atmosphere as soon as I crossed the line where the star shine and moonlight stopped and the congealing darkness began. I had gone in thinking I would brandish one of the crude swords we had stashed away inside against The Elders but once I crossed that line, everything seemed to change. My pains eased away and as I looked back over my shoulder to watch my brothers, the darkness swirled and evolved into a picture perfect day from my childhood. The sun was bright; but not crippling, there were big puffy clouds in the sky and just the perfect autumn breeze. Our front garden was a swath of colors, shapes and heights and the Dogwoods were in full bloom. Everything was perfect; everything was fake, and I just didn’t care.






I knew somewhere in the recesses of my mind that there was something important happening, that I needed to be quick. Someone was after me . . . and there were people in trouble but I just couldn’t remember what; I just felt so damn good. I sauntered lazily into the house; the smell of fresh linen laced over every object, the open windows letting in a nostalgic gale. I walked thoughtfully towards the family pictures on the far back wall of the little living room; my fingers tracing over the faces of my mother, father, brothers and I. Something inside my chest shifted at the sight of us; that uncomfortable urgent feeling beginning to rise up once more. Attempting to quell the nervous quivering inside my spirit, I took a long look down the hallway and everything began to dim. My vision rounded at the corners and everything seemed far away; rasping whispers tickled my hearing as I marched transfixed down the hall. “Vino la mine pierdut unul, vin gustul puterea mea.” A chorus of voices called to me in my head, “Dormi aici in bratele mele, si da-mi sufletul tău să mănînce.” I was drowning in the sound as I began to push open the door at the end of the hall, and as I did a human man screamed what sounded like a death cry and scaly fingers pulled me into the black.