By Hedonism
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It would be a good idea to read the chapters leading up to this episode first. They can be found at http://users.transfur.com/hedonism/stories.htm .
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Through the darkened, ancient dining room the woman hesitantly stepped, on her way to escaping this peculiar mansion. A ferocious storm outside lashed every windowpane with angry rain, every lightning flash illuminating the whole room unnaturally brightly.
The girl found a door and opened it cautiously.
It led into a hallway, so long that it curved into the horizon. Its candlelit walls twisted and turned unsettlingly, impossibly. But that didn’t matter, for the beast was there, its claws tearing into the wallpaper and brickwork around it. The monster bared its teeth and started to pound its way up the passage towards its prey.
The woman didn’t turn, and didn’t run. But she did look around and saw with satisfaction that the room she had just left was replaced with the same miles of corridor that stretched in front of her. Just as she was expecting.
“Am I supposed to start running down there screaming my head off?” she asked calmly. It was difficult to speak, but she managed. “Presumably I wake up with a cold sweat, wriggling around and tied up in my bedsheets.”
The beast thundered towards her still, smashing candles off the wall in its determination to reach her. The woman simply smiled as he leapt and disintegrated to nothingness.
* * * * * * * * * *
Yoric left the female’s dream puzzled. It seemed like a straight-forward pursuit nightmare. Granted, it worked better on kids, but everyone could be frightened by good old-fashioned dragons.
The beast navigated his way through the misty recesses of the dreamworlds, past fragments of thoughts and concepts that had stayed around after particularly vivid dreams had ended, and found the mind of a fourteen year old.
Ahhh, much more likely to scare here.
The beast stationed himself in a vast field, took in the vibes of the dream and this time transformed into a huge horse. He wished he could get to play dragons more often, as those were his favourite form, but he had to cater to what the sleeper was afraid of or he wouldn’t be doing his job right.
The child looked around, worried. He half-knew what was waiting for him, and his terrors were confirmed when the locomotive sound of galloping erupted from behind. He had never been attacked by the horses his father owned, but the fear was there all the same. Now it wanted its presence felt.
The boy turned around and tried to scream, but it was hard to make more than a sleepy mutter. He fought to get his feet to work but they felt like they were covered by thick sheets.
Suddenly the horse suddenly had a rider. A woman was on its back, and the beast looked around, amazed. A bit filled its mouth, a saddle formed on its back. The girl laughed and petted Yoric.
“This isn’t your dream! How did you get here?” asked the horse with burgeoning fear. He tried to buck the woman off and nearly succeeded, until her newly grown, lizardy tail wrapped around his barrel stomach.
The girl put a riding hat over hair that was uncurling into thick, writhing serpents. The boy started to chuckle as he watched the rodeo unfold before his eyes. His chuckle became an uncontrollable laugh when the peculiar woman waved to him and smiled carnivorously. He fell back on the soft grass and rolled with laughter until his hand pressed into something disgusting.
Jolted into waking up, the child disappeared from this world and the dream shattered.
Yoric sighed, profoundly humiliated. He wished away the horsy bindings and returned to his preferred draconic form. He stood up, but realised quickly that the reader was still with him, now in a piggyback.
“What are you?” he asked of the legs, arms and tail that he could see. A reptilian face looped over his head and appeared upside down in his vision, snaky hair dangling. She was beautiful.
“I’m Hedonism. Who are you?”
* * * * * * * * * *
Rebecca’s favourite pub was a pretty grotty establishment, but it was close to where she worked, and the landlord was a great guy who kept away both boys and girls who would try the usual drunken passes at her and her mates.
Magpie finished her turn at karaoke and sat back down with Rebecca, Isha and Isha’s boyfriend Ranj. Rani had the nervous look of a straight lad unaccustomed to being in a gay bar, which was something he was only just realising. He clutched his girlfriend’s hand defensively, pointedly.
Another woman stood up before the mic on stage as Magpie tried to take advantage of the quiet pause between songs.
“Didn’t I sound dreadful?” she asked, sounding quite proud of this.
“Very magpie-like,” grinned Isha. Magpie grinned and looked sideways at Rebecca, who was mouthing the words to a song, without realising it.
“I thought you squarked the chorus a bit too well though,” Rebs said, regaining control of her mouth. “Almost like a songbird.”
Magpie frowned comically.
“Stars shining bright above you,” continued Rebecca. “Night breezes seem to whisper I love you.”
“Ehh?”
The singer in the background started the opening line of a Mama Cass song, matching what Rebecca said.
Ranj laughed at what he presumed was a joke, while Rebecca felt a sudden weight of sadness in her stomach. Not exactly understanding what was going on, she heard singing deep inside, croaking, hissing, mournful, and let it free.
“Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me…”
She sang along to the music, despite not knowing the words. The creature inside her definitely did.
Rebecca’s eyes felt wet, and her voicebox changed. When she sang again, the whole pub quietened.
“Say nighty-night and kiss me, just hold me tight and tell me, you’ll miss me…”
The music took on a concert hall quality. Everyone felt like they had fallen into a musical, and the song took over and filled their world. If it had an upbeat tempo, they would be trying to dance, but this haunting ballad took away all urges to do anything but listen.
Somehow Rebecca was singing the backing vocals and instruments too. All of them. Not in the cheap remade way the karaoke machine attempted but exactly as Figment had heard it when she was three, and lived outside her host. The karaoke singer unplugged the machine. Its noise was getting in the way.
Not caring how many eyes were fixed on her, Rebecca continued to sing, as she felt invisible hands hold her, press her to a shoulder.
“While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me…”
Figment was crying inside, she was hugging this phantom.
The next verse, Mama Cass’ voice was joined by another one, a soft female hiss but not that of Figment. This one didn’t keep perfect tune and didn’t always know the words. It was an important voice.
The voices continued through the soft song as Rebecca’s tears pattered onto the table. The ghostly hiss seemed to be about to leave just before the next verse came along and persuaded it to stay.
People mouthed along silently as the singer felt lost inside Figment’s head. The song was beautiful, comforting. But limited to three short minutes.
Rebecca felt the hands leave her, and the soft sibilant voice trail off, never to return. Figment was overwhelmed with sorrow and wept loudly inside her host’s soul. Rebecca hugged herself and cried as Magpie stood her up and led her through the still silent pub.
Ranj and Isha followed afterwards. Neither spoke to the other as they got into Isha’s car and drove to the most romantic place they could find.
* * * * * * * * * *
Magpie watched Rebecca, sat out in her back garden. After a while, she transformed into a bird.
The girl and her inside friend watched their boss fly away. Rebecca wondered what to say to Figment. Then a thought came to her.
:: You remember your mother. ::
Figment finally replied.
:: I do now. ::
:: … ::
:: She left when I was three years old. My father said she was a cuckoo imp… They’re called that because they have to leave their children for others to look after. ::
:: Will she come back? ::
Figment was quiet.
:: I don’t know if I should want her back. She didn’t try too hard to stick around. ::
Rebecca nodded. The creature inside her sighed but metaphorically smiled.
:: I love your parents now, like you do. And I love my natural father. Hedonism loved me while she was still around. Maybe she still does. ::
:: Hedonism? ::
:: Yeah. We’re both called Hedonism. I was named after her. I got her looks, and probably all this power off her. ::
:: And that memory? ::
:: Yes… The last time I saw her. ::
Figment mulled. It wasn’t a happy memory. But it was still hers. And she would never forget it again.
:: I hope I’ve not gotten us into trouble, :: she said.
:: Nahhh. Everyone knows pubs are haunted. I’ll say I was possessed by a ghost or something. ::
:: You were. So was I… Let’s go indoors, your mum and dad are back. It might be nice to talk to them about stuff. ::
Rebecca smiled softly, stood up and walked to the back door.
By Hedonism