SUVANKAR SEN

Horror Drama

5.0  

SUVANKAR SEN

Horror Drama

Dream Within A Dream

Dream Within A Dream

5 mins
414


The last vestiges of sunlight streaming through the windows, the sliver of a cool breeze gently displacing the dried leaves on the grassy lawn, as if they had no fixed destination, and had resigned themselves to their fates, the chirping of a swallow, now and then, occasionally punctuated by the sweet melody of a cuckoo, filling the surroundings with an energy unspeakable, and in such a situation, where the entire nature seems to be in a harmonious mood, I gaze out of the window, looking at the sun slowly disappearing over the horizon, just as it has done a million times before, and will continue doing so, forever and ever, contemplating how the day is coming to an end, and welcome the starry night with a sly gaze.


All of sudden, I notice a figure strutting across from the road, coming swiftly in the direction of the building I stay in. In the vanishing light, it was difficult to make out the form, a male or female, I can’t say for sure, but only the silhouette of an average-sized person who seemed to be running from someone, or something, it seemed. The gentle winds, which up to this moment were caressing my cheeks with its cool touch, suddenly started blowing with an ominous force, as if signaling the arrival of a tempest unspeakable. Nonetheless, I kept staring out the window, shielding my eyes from the dust, trying to figure out where the stranger was. Well, I couldn’t make out anything in the dark, so I closed the windows and retreated to my silent chambers, as I have always done for the past 3 years.


Sitting in the comfortable chair that I had custom-made for my reading, I picked up a paperback that I never seemed to finish and promptly flipped open page number 415. Deeply absorbed as I was, I couldn’t help but notice a slight movement in my peripheral vision. The study lamp wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the whole room, so I couldn’t make out the assailant as he slowly placed the cold steel edge of the knife against my jugular, and with a swing akin to that of a golf player, drew a crimson slit, from one end to the other. Before I could even react, crimson pearls of my blood started raining down on the opened page of the book. As my life slowly oozed out of me, the last thought that crossed my mind was if the stranger outside wasn’t running away from someone; instead, it was my death coming for me, before everything became black.


With a jolt, I wake up, as if every single nerve in my body had been singed by a ruthless thunderbolt from the screeching skies. I look around and find myself drenched in sweat, wearing nothing but shorts, in a dimly lit room. I scurry out of the bed, and touch my throat, only to find it in perfect condition; no scars, no blood or anything that would indicate my murder the previous night, or was it all just a dream? To confirm this, I pinch my cheeks, and it hurt. Well, things seem real enough, and the hideous events of yesterday never happened, it was just a dream after all.


Gathering myself, I go to the bathroom, undress and take a shower. Every drop of water touching my skin instills a sense of relief as if I was somehow deprived of it, and as each drop slides down the nooks and crannies of the body, it feels as if it's taking some weight off me. I get ready, drink a glass of cold milk and then sit down to work on the new story I was working on, the time being 4:15 a.m. Still, too early to go outside for jogging, I switch on my laptop hoping to get some work done before the day breaks. The laptop remains off. I plug in the charger, but the indicator shows that it’s fully charged. I remove the battery, re-insert it and switch on the power again, hoping against hope that no major problem occurred with the system.


I see two, tiny red dots glowing in the centre of the screen, a centimeter apart. As I focused on the dots, it seemed as if the sizes of the red dots started increasing, with an increase in the intensities, before becoming black again. I move closer to the screen, trying to figure out what the hell just happened, when all of a sudden, pitch-black tendrils, not of this world, emanating from the screen, wrap around my head and try pulling me inside the device. I try resisting, but its sheer strength overpowers me, and all of a sudden I realize that it’s just my head that’s being pulled in. I feel the excruciating pain of the tendons and bones in my neck as they snap slowly one by one, and its not long before I see my lifeless, bloodied body, sans head, topple on the floor with a thud the tendrils holding my head, making me see the gruesome scene, before I get lost in the void.


Writhing in agony, I try getting up, but I feel my arms being chained, as is the rest of my body, and the only thing independent of any shackles are my eyes, which I open slowly to look at a white ceiling, and the with a person dressed in white, poring over me, probing my face, as if trying to discern some meaning from my face. I hear someone indistinctly saying about how the patient in room no. 415 vacillates between dreams and reality, and I can only wonder if they’re speaking about me or someone else. Well, I couldn’t pinch myself to confirm the veracity of my situation, but then the doctor shone red lights on my eyes again, and the silvery shine of a scalpel from somewhere caught my eyes before the world became black again.


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