Chapter 1 - The Fifth Morning

Chapter 1 – The Fifth Morning

“Do you know the truth yet?” the large-framed silhouette questioned, its voice echoing forth for what seemed an infinite distance, yet maintaining a calm melody, an almost soothing tone.
“Who are you?”
“Irrelevant.” the voice nearly snapped, yet with no change in tone. “Do you know the truth yet?” it repeated.
“I don’t understand. Where am I?”
“Do you know the truth yet?” the voice repeated.
“Damn you! Why don’t you give me a straight answer?” Lana spoke with an agitated tone. After a moment a slight chuckle filled the air. “What…what’s so funny?” The chuckle turned suddenly loud and unbearably so. Lana slammed her hands to her ears to try and block out the noise. “Stop! STOP IT!” She clenched her eyes shut and began to exert such force on herself that she was inflicting even more pain. As the laughter continued the voice came again.
“Do you know the truth yet?” The question began to ring throughout Lana’s mind, burning itself into her. Mixed with a now destructively audible, maniacal laughter, the pain was too much. Lana fell to her knees, holding her head and gritting her teeth to where they seemed they would shatter. For a moment, she opened her eyes and regrettably so. As she did, the sound of tortured screams stirred itself with the already chaotic sounds which filled her consciousness. She looked on as the silhouette began to approach, his large frame only growing in size, not true detail. With the approach came the sounds of breathing with a hint of a hiss in the cycle. After a few moments more of the torture, more shapes, tentacle-like and in great number, slithered slowly from the silhouette’s sides and spread to quite a distance.
What…is this…?
Her thoughts were then totally overcome. Uncontrollably Lana began to shudder and tremble, her teeth chattering together. She curled into a ball, continuing to cover her ears from the chorus of horror around her. She blinked quickly and in but an instant the tentacle shapes had moved closer and continued to steadily as she looked on. Lana gasped for air and clenched her eyes shut again, shaking her head violently left and right.
“Make it stop…” Lana proclaimed in an utterance. “Make it stop!” Her voice elevated as she repeated her command, until it became a series of screams and pleas. “MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE! PLEASE…MAKE IT STOP!” For another instant she had to open her eyes, compelled to know what would then become of her. And with that, a final scream escaped her lips as the tentacles suddenly closed the distance and jolted at her.
And then there was darkness.

* * *

A shrill scream came forth from her lips as Lana sprang upright from sleep. Another, smaller scream, more of a squeak, came out as she realized she was now awake. Sitting there in her bed, her legs up to her knees covered by a blanket, the rest of which was hanging over the side of the bed, likely from tossing and turning all night, Lana panted and gasped for breath. After some minutes of this, her senses came back to her and the cold of the air conditioner began to flood her epidermal senses, cooling the sweat, which seemed to pour from her. She wiped her brow and looked around a bit. Lana then began to examine herself, feeling her torso, chest, arms, and head to reassure herself that she was in reality and that she was still alive.
A dream, Lana thought. After some moments, her breathing and heart rate calmed to a more reasonable pace and she let herself fall back into her pillows, her arms falling sloppily to her sides. She sighed heavily, letting the carbon dioxide fill her mouth and expand her cheeks a bit before it was all exhaled. Allowing her head to fall to her left she noticed the clock.
Five o’ clock…you have to be kidding…
Lana closed her eyes a moment, but opened them suddenly as a smattered summary of the nightmare graced her consciousness once more. Her eyes were kept wide, simply to keep from even coming near to closing. She sat up again and set her legs off the side of the bed, letting them touch the chilled carpet and support a bit of weight and blood flow. Lana rubbed her eyes sleepily and then stood quickly, knowing she would just lay back down and sleep again if she didn’t act quick enough. She looked around her room a bit and sniffled, at which she felt some liquid retract into her nasal passage.
Lana curled her lip like that of a bulldog, a custom she had picked up when she was either playfully being intimidating or disgusted by something, and headed zombie-like to the bathroom. Nudging the door open with her elbow, she pushed into the bathroom and flipped on the light, causing a subdued brightening of the room, followed by the hum of the bathroom fan. She sniffled again and snorted it out a bit, hating that so much that wasn’t air was coming into her breathing passages. As she did, Lana caught a bit of the liquid on her hand. It was red and a little thick.
Blood…? Turning to the mirror, Lana saw a stream of blood coming from her right nostril and dripping off the top of her lip. She looked down and saw that she had taken quite a few drops onto her nightgown.
“Ugh…” Lana sighed, wiped it from her nose, washed her hand, quickly dried it, and reached for a few sheets of toilet paper. She looked into the sink, and applied them to her nose to soak up the blood and get it to stop, hopefully soon. Lana set her hands on the counter top and leaned heavily on them for a minute. Her nosebleeds usually made her feel rather sick, both from the amount of loss and the fact that it was her lifeblood, casually allowing itself to leave her body. After some moments, Lana raised her head, only to be surprised and stagger back against the wall.
“THE TRUTH” was smattered upon the mirror and slowly beginning to run due to gravity’s pull. Immediately her breathing went into a fit and Lana began to hyperventilate, placing a hand on her chest, as if this were some remedy to the growing pain in it.
What is this?! This hasn’t…hasn’t happened before…The dream prior had been a reoccurring one for the past five nights. In those five nights, Lana had risen from the nightmare and continued the morning, a bit shaken, but with no difference in normality. This time, the sixth night, was different. Something was in her home. A deep muttered laughter protruded forth, filling the bathroom and Lana’s ears with the disturbance of it. The foul sound quickly grew terribly loud, bellowing and echoing madly. Lana’s eyes widened and she spun quickly to her left to look into her bedroom. And there it stood…
“It…it can’t be…” Lana uttered to herself. “You’re just a dream…no…a nightmare!” At that, the tentacles, those horrible entities of vileness and foul being came forth. Lana screamed.
And then there was darkness.

* * *

A shrill scream came forth from her lips as Lana sprang upright from sleep. Another, smaller scream, more of a squeak, came out as she realized she was now awake…again.
Another nightmare… It had been a continuation of the previous dream, something that had worsened the cycle of the previous five reoccurring nightmares. What is wrong with me…A soft, suppressive whimper escaped her closed lips, followed by a series of the same, intermingled with a set of sniffles. Lana shut her eyes and shook her head slowly, clenching her fists as tight as she could. Finding this unsatisfactory, she wrenched at her bed sheets, the cloth clenched for dear life in between her fingers. All this for the suppression of what she knew was beyond stopping from taking place; the breakdown.
Once the tears started, Lana could hold back no more. She sat there, slouching a bit as the salty fluid poured from her eyes. She could no longer clench the sheets, no longer breathe or think. Everything was consumed by overwhelming grief and Lana simply let all her suppression go, balling out loud. She had to let it out, the alternative only opening an already growing emotional wound. It was not as if she had to worry about someone hearing, as there was a vacancy in not only her bed, but also the second of her two-bedroom home; she lived alone.
It was not as if the five foot-six inch, one hundred and thirty pound, brown-eyed brunette was unattractive enough at twenty-six to not have a partner by now. It wasn’t even a matter of willingness, Lana was thoroughly ready to take a mate and settle down in her home. Just not with anyone that would take me, were her retorting thoughts on the matter. Lana had been incapable of finding anyone who suited her needs. Society had done a great job by the year 2006 in training all men how to be shallow, selfish, ignorant assholes, or a conglomeration of those and/or a myriad of other traits. The sentence had become doctrine and Lana firmly believed in it. It had been many years since Lana had been proven otherwise, many years since the end of her teenage era, just before the transition to that of the post-teen epoch of her life.
Lana had been an undergraduate then, just beginning her studies in the mathematical sciences when she had met someone she had felt was her first true love. Sure she had thought she was in love before him, but afterward…Lana had known she had truly found one that she could commit to and settle with. He had been so much like her, uncannily so. He had stood at five-feet and seven inches, weighed one hundred and thirty pounds, and possessed brown hair and eyes painted of brown with a hint of hazel. He hadn’t been the most beautiful man on the earth, but he had possessed a certain cute handsomeness about him. He wasn’t overly large, but quite the contrary, somewhat lanky looking. Contrary to this, however, his limber arms possessed nothing but well-defined muscle. He wasn’t a model, but he certainly was beautiful to her. His name was Sam, short for Samuel Bauer, and Lana had loved him, for even more than those modest looks.
Lana had been Sam’s first real friend since the start of his freshman year, putting him one year behind her in age and grade. That certainly hadn’t put him on some lower level, however, but quite the contrary. He was a brilliant young man in numerous areas, to include philosophy, mathematics, physics, chemistry, writing; a true jack of all trades. He was active too, having some experience in martial arts, semi-regular workouts, and becoming physically fit in high school through various involvements. And Lana ate it up, every ounce of it. Sam had been perfect for her. Perfect except…he wasn’t there now. Had he been, Lana knew Sam would have taken her in his arms and comforted her, holding her all night if necessary. But he wasn’t…
…and Lana could not stop herself. She curled into a ball, grasping her knees to her chest, wailing without a care. Her face had become red from the lack of air, her breathing seriously heavy with each sob. Lana wept without care for anything or anyone, as if the whole world was coming down and there was nothing left for her but her ultimate destiny. This was the way it was when she cried, she let it all out at once, holding nothing back and mostly inadvertently. For some moments she lay there, tears of sadness and fear flowing all at once, soaking an area of her bed and causing quite a bit of tension in her head. Not that she paid any mind to it, her thoughts were clouded with her current misery, a perpetual damnation of reoccurring and evolving nightmares. If the five previous nights of lacking sleep, coupled with a much lower performance at work, wasn’t getting to her now, the sheer fear of the experience had gripped her and Lana now had no other alternative but to cry.
He was right here. He was in my home, in my room! I can’t take this…
After some moments of this, Lana shook her head and sniffled a bit, calming her breathing slowly. She wiped her face now, her hands becoming drenched in the drowning wetness of her tears. Lana could feel the redness, feel the warmth that had been caused by her heavy breathing and astounding emotion. She could feel the redness, much like when one is presenting to an audience and becomes flushed with sheepish embarrassment. For some seconds, even after she had felt she had removed all the tears from about her face, Lana continued to wipe at her own face. At first it was out of habit for having done so to rid herself of the wetness, but now…it was to feel. To feel the warmth inside her, to remind her there was still blood rushing about her body. Lana nodded to herself and sniffled a bit more, wiping at her nose and blinking, looking around the bedroom for no apparent reason but to check for reality. At that, she smirked and sat up, throwing herself back against her headboard, closing her eyes, and looking down with a sigh.
Just a dream Lana…just another dream…

* * *

The digital clock’s red characters struck 0730 and the alarm sounded. Lana sat idly against her headboard, having not moved since waking from that terrible nightmare. She simply sat, staring, her eyes fixated toward the ambience of the television, yet seemingly staring beyond it. She allowed the buzzing alarm continue for some moments before she broke her trance like state and leaned over, flipping the switch off and on again, ending the reign of the noise and resetting it once more for the next morning. A bit of a sigh escaped her lungs at the realization of what the alarm meant:
Time to get ready for another fun-filled day of adventure with spoiled, hormone enraged college students. How…pleasant…The week of sleep deprivation wasn’t helping, either.
Blinking a few more times, Lana wiped the last of the sleepiness from her eyes and set her legs off the side of the bed, forcing herself to stand. As the blood flowed back to her legs and regular circulation continued throughout her body, she felt the aches of a night lacking of proper rest. Lana could feel it deep in her bones; today was going to be one of those, long and drawn out days spent eyeing the clock with a grudging stare.
Ever since middle school when she had become wholly aware of time and the iron grip that it kept on all those that followed it, Lana had always found herself one of those eyeing that clock when her internals told her it was getting about that time. Anticipation always welled up deep in her abdomen, as time seemed to drag on and slow down as much as possible, the seconds fighting for every bit of existence.
As Lana opened her refrigerator and fiddled about for something to drink, she thought back to how she felt at those times. She had always wondered whether looking at the clock in anticipation for the end of a class, or even now at the closing time of a lecture, had reflected on her work ethic or revealed some other malicious characteristic about her. Lana always found herself looking about following the quick glances at the clock, finding that she felt guilty. She had never wanted to make her teachers or, now, her students, feel as if what they were instructing or learning were unimportant to her. Lana simply found herself generally unchallenged or even bored, her mind wondering off to various other places, anywhere but there. It hadn’t even been a question of difficulty; Lana had found numerous hardships along the course of her field of study. Mathematical science was a very dense subject, sometimes abstract, and sometimes simple, yet material rich. In all cases, it could be exceedingly difficult. With even that in mind, Lana still felt “unchallenged”.
Even in her youth, in elementary school, Lana had found trouble with things being “unchallenging”. She was always into trouble, accumulating referrals for “Excessive talking during class” or “Incomplete homework”. Yet her grades were always sound and her general conduct reports yielded comments such as “Very polite, respectful”, “Good student”, and “Very bright, hard worker”. Lana found herself confused so much by it. Finally, Lana’s mother and herself had had a conference with her teacher and the verdict was handed down. That one unexplained explanation to the oxymoronic reports she received so much; “Your daughter is simply ‘unchallenged’. Since that day, Lana had wondered if there was anything that she wasn’t “unchallenged” or simply bored with.
Aside from a good video game, of course.
Lana smirked at that and finished pouring herself a glass of water. She was definitely not a coffee person, opting for nature’s best option. It took many years of discipline to wean herself off of a morning soda, the caffeine usually shooting throughout her body in an instant, allowing her to tap into a seemingly limitless source of energy. But Lana persevered and after many years, she had finally perfected a routine of water drinking, with only the occasional relapse back to her sweet, carbonated nectar. Of course after that first glass of water, all bets were off. Any drink was fair game then.
Lana took a sip of her water strolled out to the living room, her semi-long, or maybe to a cynic, semi-short, sky blue nightgown swayed lightly with each step. As she walked, Lana twiddled a bit of the material from the nightgown between her fingers, the material very soothing and smooth to the touch. She smirked to herself as she caressed the material, knowing that it had become a habit due to her love of the feeling, yet she knew nothing of the material. Lana had never paid any mind to such things, the pleasure she got from the feeling far outweighing any trivial care there could be for knowing the material.
What fun would it be to actually ask for clothing with this material when I can parade around the store and test them all myself?
As Lana laughed and closed her eyes, there was a sudden flash in the darkness behind her eyelids of the image of that very nightgown she had been feeling on with blood smattered about it flooded into her mind. Following only moments later, another flash and the image of the mirror with blood-written words came into her view, yet she couldn’t make out the words before she heard a CRASH! Lana’s eyes opened slowly, as if she’d been in a daze, and she looked down to find her glass of water shattered and strewn about a three-foot radius, the major pieces not straying even too close to that. For a moment she stood there, simply confounded, dazed, confused. After a few moments, Lana could do nothing but laugh to herself, smirk, and declare to herself what to do.
I’m definitely calling in today.