End of Dreams
~Chapter One- Intros~
By Chance Hensley



His head swam with thoughts of his life; his daily boring, nearly non-existent life. He did nothing but work and sleep... and dream. His dreams weren't those of normal people, not to say he didn't have those dreams also. He just chose to ignore those. There wasn't any excitement in normal dreams. His dreams were much more. Much more twisted. Much, much more twisted.
   He dreamt of red walls. Red walls, and slick floors. Floors slick with blood. But that was only how they started. They soon turned to what happpened to create this macabre scene, to the twisted plays that the author and actor played out, creating a perfect performance. One where, instead of words, small tortures took the main stage.
   In his dreams they took turns. Sometimes he was author, sometimes he was actor. It never really mattered to him. He could be the author and write the story, or he could play the actor and make the story happen. Either way he got excitement, in his dreams at least.
   This morning he awoke and, as always rolled over and turned the TV on. Last night had been hard on him. It was a long night, due to his dream friend's unusually horrific play. For a moment, as always he wondered if he was insane. He quickly dismissed the thought with another. It's just dreams.
   The TV prattled on in the background, the newscaster telling the great boring city he lived in what had happened while they were sleeping as he got a bowl of cereal. After the cereal was ready, he picked up his bowl and returned to the living room to eat his breakfast before getting ready for work.
   The cereal was good. He really enjoyed eating cereal. It was the one time during the day he didn't think, didn't have to think. His job at the gas station down the street forced him to think all day. Subtract this from this, add this to that. Somedays it drove him crazy.
    The spoon was halfway to his mouth when he abruptly dropped the spoon. It was the news. For some reason the newcaster's words had sparked something, knocking him nerveless for a moment. He let the spoon lie on the floor where it had landed, and turned his full attention to the TV.
    "Alexis was found in her bedroom this morning by her parents. The scene was too grisly for us to take a camera inside, but we were told that the girl was tortured before she died. The police are not commenting at this time."
    The name was familiar but he couldn't put his hand on it, so he picked up the spoon and bowl and put them in the sink then went to his room to get dressed for work.
     As he pulled his shirt over his head the name struck him again.
     Alexis...
     Suddenly he had the sensation of falling and everything went black.
     When he awoke, he found himself in a red room. The walls moved slightly as if they were breathing.
     "This is some freaky shit... Where the hell am I?"
     "That's a question we've all got to ask ourselves sometimes. Specially me, I ask every day." The voice was high pitched and giggly, reminding him of some of those characters he'd seen on the morning cartoons on the rare occasions he sat and watched cartoons and regular TV instead of playing X-Box or watching a DVD.
     Characters that were insane, giggling their way through their insanity. Taking their henchmen to that same insanity, their giggly voice guiding them down the twisting and turning serpentine path of crazyness, one step at a time.
     "Who are you?" The voice sounded familiar, and it scared him slightly, but his voice came out clear and strong.
     Insane giggles echoed around for a moment before the person answered. "That is another question I ask myself everyday." Suddenly the giggling broke out into full blow hysterical laughter, causing the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end.
     "I know who I am... I'm Shawn," He looked down and fingered the name tag that was still attached to his shirt, his fingers brushing across the raised letters that spelled out his name. "it says so right here."
     Again with the giggling. He feircly wanted it to stop. "That is simply your name. A name really means nothing. Nothing at all. I'm asking if you know who you truly are." As he looked around, he saw a figure walking towards him, head bent and chest heaving as it giggled. He couldn't see any amrs, but saw little flaps of something showing at it's hips. "We all have to know who we are, or our lives mean nothing. We are nearly inexistent." For no apparent reason the figure broke out into hysterical laughter again, sending the chills up his spine. Chest heaving even harder from the laughing, the figure lumbered on, stumbling slightly when it hiccuped from the laughing.
     "You're making no sense."
     "I'm making perfect sense, even a crazy person could see. You're just not looking at it the right way." Only a couple steps away, Shawn could make out a little more of the figure. He saw that it had hair, long and corn-rowed, but couldn't tell what color.
     "I think you're crazy." He had barely got the words out then it jumped at him, howling insanely as if his words had stabbed it in the chest.
     "NEVER CALL ME CRAZY!" It screamed repeatedly as it's teeth snapped at his throat. Suddenly, Shawn realized it wasn't an it, but a him. A person in a straight jacket. And this person in a straight jacket was ready to take out his throat, and the only reason he hadn't so far was becuase he didn't have use of his arms.
     Shawn rolled around with the man for a couple seconds, coming up on top. He quickly realized that he needed to get away, becuase straight jacket or not, this guy was nuts and would remain a danger.
     He turned to run, but suddenly found himself falling again, the insane giggling following him into unconciousness.
~*~*~*~*~*~

     The sunlight was bugging him. It made him want to open his eyes, something he didn't want to do. Without thinking he grabbed the pillow beside him and covered his head, then it struck him.
     "A PILLOW!" It had all been a dream. Sighing with releif he rolled over to flick the TV on, but found it already on. Probably the reason for the dream, something on the TV had triggered the dream. It was the only explanation he could come up with.
     His arms flew open in panic when he looked over to his alarm clock. He was late.
     Five minutes later he was walking to work, his hands shoved deep inside his jacket pockets to help fight off the cold and keep a little body heat in his coat sleeves. The street he walked down was lined with houses, some abandoned some not, an empty lot here and there, the gas station he worked at, and a book store across the street from that. The houses were normal looking. Old, shabby things, complete with peeling paint, sagging porches, and cracked sidewalks. Defenitly a normal, boring, every day street in the middle of your normal, boring, every city.
     Shawns work wasn't in much better condition than the houses on the outside. Oil spots covered most of the asphalt around the pumps, and the building itself was in as much disrepair as the houses it neighbored with. Glancing around as he stepped inside he saw that Eric, the guy that worked the shift before him had once again skipped out early, and also that he had neglected to clean.
     "Goodfernuthinsonuvabitch...." As he clocked in he grumbled to himself. It seemed like eric never stayed his full time, never cleaned, never did anything. Shawn even ended up staying over most days Eric was supposed to do inventory. The boss always said that they were a team, and that if one couldn't finish his work, then the next shift should pick it up and finish it for them. Eric was extremely good at taking advantage of this while still getting his eight hours pay. Sometimes it was enough to drive Shawn nuts.
     "Gettin ready for a long day?" The thump was loud and painful, pulling the laugh that always made him smile, even after he cracked his head hard enough to make him see stars.
     "Do you always have to sneak up on me?" Straightening up from grabbing cleaning supplies, he took in the sight before him as he did every morning. She was very attractive in her own way. Shawn had long ago given up dreams of having a supermodel or even one of those preppy cheerleading types, and had quit giving them a second look. This girl, was more of the girl next door, ordinary type. What made her attractive to him, he figured, was her personality and her smile. The kind of smile that lit up her whole face as it did now.
     "Of course, it's the only excitement you get all day." She stood leaning on the counter, one eyebrow raised, daring him to disagree. "What's Shawn's agenda today?" Absently, she played with the strings on her pink hoody, screwing her face up into deep concentration. "Wait... I'm getting something.... Work.... and then I see... more work.... and then.... x-box and pizza at your house." She grinned again. "Right?"
     "Ya got me." As he looked for a broom he changed the subject. "What are you going to do today?"
     "I dunno. Thought maybe I'd read the stars tonight, maybe play with a Tarot Deck."
     "Honestly, I don't see why you mess with that stuff Dena."
     "You know I hate that name." Dena's face had become pouty. "I prefer Star."
     Shawn did nothing but shake his head.

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Chapter two is done!!! End of Dreams Ch2-Dreams?

A list of the readers- Dreamwatchers