Part 4: The Dreams
Kaelyn still had the nightmare regularly and each time it was frustratingly identical. Try as she might she could not affect the outcome – she drifted above the town, she saw the darknesses writhing, and they drew her in. Each time she would struggle, thrash, try to shout – nothing worked. That one tentacle, noticing her, would stretch up and reach for her and just as it seemed about to grasp her she would wake, trembling and sweating. When she had the dream now, the whispers would linger for the whole day, just out of the reach of her consciousness. She could hear them – feel them – slithering behind her thoughts, but she could not make out any words she understood nor any meaning other than menace and malice.
As terrible as it was, that nightmare was nothing compared to the new dream; it had started only recently, two months after Papa Greene died. In it, she was sitting in his living room. Everything was just the way it had been the