Freedom of Nightmares

There’s a story that’s often told that speaks of a house. It’s an old abandoned mansion that resides in the darkness. It’s still and silent and the sun never sheds light to illuminate its horror. Who lived there? Nobody knows. But there’s no one there now, not even a ghost.

People will tell you that this house was built in the Nightmare Realm and it comes to you in your sleep. They say it will torment your soul with visions and if you are weak you will die. The house will supposedly eat your soul to keep it alive. That’s right: alive.

But people say it’s just a story made to explain mysterious deaths. ‘It’s not real. Don’t be scared.’ They say it doesn’t exist: the house isn’t real.

So then where do the stories come from?

There’s the next victim: Cassandra Cape. See her tossing in her sleep, her hair spread messily over the pillow? Sweat trickles down her forehead as the house moves in. She doesn’t yet know of the horrors that await her. This one dream – this nightmare – will determine whether she lives or dies. Let’s see just how this girl fares…

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Cassandra stared up at the gothic mansion that loomed before her with apprehension. Dead trees and rotting flowers decorated the garden, which was bathed in a soft red glow from the blood-coloured moon above. The air was still and the only sound was Cassandra’s breathing as she tried desperately to quieten it.

“Oh!” she gasped as the huge oak double doors opened without a sound. She inched forwards to peer inside and thought she saw a movement in the shadowy hall beyond.

Cassandra glanced back at the desolate night and, trembling with barely suppressed fear, stepped across the threshold onto the marble floor. She hesitated slightly before walking into the centre of the hall, her heart pounding in her chest.

“W – what is this place?” she whispered.

-Your tomb-

Cassandra whipped her head around. She registered the words in her mind but her ears swore they’d never been spoken.

“Is someone there?” she called out, her voice an octave higher than it should have been.

-My existence is beyond all human understanding- came the reply. –I am real, in a sense, and yet I am not completely real.-

“Then what the Hell are you?” Cassandra demanded as confusion and fear gave birth to anger. “Show yourself!”

-I have no true form- the voice that was not a voice explained. –I am merely an essence. But I suppose that if you desire to think of me as a solid manifestation, you may recognise my body as this house.-

Cassandra blinked. “You’re a house?”

-Somewhat.-

It was an eerie claim and Cassandra shivered. It meant that she was, quite literally, in the belly of the beast, completely at the mercy of this…being. For, although the voice lacked any emotion, Cassandra got the feeling that it had evil intentions. She’d noticed when the doors had smoothly shut behind her, and although the house was large, she was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

-It is not about evil, it is about survival- the voice said, as if reading her thoughts. -You must die so that I can continue to exist.-

“Die?” Cassandra repeated, automatically cradling her wrists to her chest.

-Yes. You wanted to die when you slit your wrists. I believe this longing for death is still inside you. Embrace your fate, Cassandra Cape. I will paint the moon with your blood.-

Cassandra’s eyes widened in shock and fear. She stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, shaking.

“How do you know about me?” she asked.

“Because I told it.” Out of the shadowy room to Cassandra’s right stepped a girl. She could have been Cassandra’s twin. She had the same long ebony hair and soulful brown eyes. Her voice was a perfect imitation, but what drew Cassandra’s gaze were the bandages around her wrists.

Cassandra gaped as her clone stood serenely, waiting for a reaction. “What…who…” she stuttered.

“Isn’t it obvious?” her clone replied. “I’m you. Just like the moon has a side cloaked in darkness, I am the side of you that you hide deep within the shadows of your soul. I am the half that hates and you are the one who is hated. Your self-loathing was so violent that it scared you and you locked it away.”

“You’re lying!” Cassandra cried. She shuffled backwards, not finding the strength to stand.

“No,” the wraith replied, shaking her head and stepping forwards. “I come to offer you solace. Become one with me. Feel the release that only pain can give, the peace and solitude of darkness setting in as the life flows from your body…I offer you freedom, Cassandra, and as you know, the only real freedom is death.”

Cassandra watched in fascinated horror as her double pulled out a long dagger, sharp as an eagle’s eyes. She pointed it at her own chest with one hand and held her other out to Cassandra.

“Don’t you want to become one with me?” she breathed.

“I…” Cassandra started. “I…no! Leave me alone! Go away!” She buried her head in her arms, tears welling up in her eyes. Like all the house’s victims, she wasn’t a happy person. She felt a pang of longing somewhere at the back of her mind…a longing for oblivion to engulf her. Warm tears cascaded down her cheeks and she scrubbed at them angrily.

“Oh sweetie…” a soothing voice murmured and Cassandra stiffened as she recognised it. A gentle hand stroked her hair. She looked up.

“Mum!” she cried, before realising that nobody was there, not even her clone.

“What was I thinking?” she sobbed, disappointment coursing through her veins. “Mum’s been dead for six years. She died when I was eight. I watched her as she killed herself…”

Climbing to her feet, Cassandra turned and fled up the staircase away from her late mother’s touch. She wanted desperately to escape the nightmare she was trapped in, but somehow knew that the front doors would be locked.

At the top of the stairs she stopped and stared down the long corridor to her left. A thick, pale blue carpet lined the floor and crimson light fell in shafts through the large window in the end wall. One of the dark wooden doors was ajar, and Cassandra felt oddly compelled to take a look inside.

Cautiously, Cassandra nudged the door open to reveal a master bedroom with a gothic décor. But what immediately captured her attention was the woman sitting on the bed. Her hair was dark as night and her eyes shone a calm grey, lit up with her smile.

“Cassie!” she exclaimed in delight, standing up and opening her arms.

Unable to resist, even through her shock, Cassandra threw herself into her mother’s hug. She breathed in the soft lavender fragrance she had missed for so long and nestled her head into her mother’s neck. A fresh cataract of tears began their descent.

“Oh mum!” she cried. “I’ve missed you so much! I’ve been so miserable!”

“I know, treasure, I know,” her mum replied. She gently gripped Cassandra’s chin and brought her head up to look into her eyes. “But now we can finally be together again. Oh how I’ve longed for my precious girl! You do still love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Cassandra assured her. “More than all the world.”

“Then will you die with me? Join me in the dreamless slumber of death?”

“Huh?” Cassandra jerked back out of her mother’s arms.

“I understand your doubts, Cassie,” carried on the sincere, caring voice. “I was afraid at first too, but then the darkness kissed me, whispered sweet things in my ear…I allowed death to seduce me and now I’m so much happier. Except, of course, in those inevitable times of loneliness. I need you, Cassie, I need my daughter back. Please come with me.”

Cassandra stared. Her mother’s eyes were truthful; eager. It was all so tempting…so what was holding her back?

“Cassie?” Grey eyes bored into brown as her mum leaned closer. “Cassie, darling, trust me. It’s utter bliss, complete freedom.” Her soft finger, delicate as a flower, caressed Cassandra’s cheek. “There’s no greater freedom than death,” she whispered.

The words struck a chord in Cassandra’s memory. Freedom…her mother had told her about what the word meant…

(Flashback)

Cassandra sat next to her mother at the edge of the small wood. The sounds of children laughing and talking drifted on the breeze from the nearby park. The air smelt of freshly cut grass and a slight wind ruffled the young girl’s hair. She was about five or six and she stared peacefully at the clouds.

“Look there, Cassie,” her mother directed, pointing to a flock of birds flying overhead. “The birds are flying south for the winter.” She was quiet for a minute then spoke again. “Do you think that birds are really free? Maybe they can fly to wherever they want to, but if they didn’t have a nest that they could call home, I think they might see their freedom as a curse. Don’t you agree?”

The younger version of Cassandra nodded, but her blank expression revealed her confusion. Her mother laughed and turned back to stare at the birds.

“What I’m saying is that freedom without limits is just a word. I hope you remember that when you get old enough to understand.”

“I will, Mummy,” Cassandra insisted. She kept her promise.

(End flashback)

Cassandra looked her mother firmly in the eye. “You’re wrong,” she said quietly. “Death is the end of freedom.”

Her mum smiled sadly and walked over to the bedside table. “It’s a pity,” she said regretfully. She turned around and Cassandra gaped as she saw the dagger her double had held before.

“I was going to offer you this,” she said. “But now it isn’t needed.” Dropping the instrument of death to the floor, she raised her hand, fingers pressed together, to face her heart. Her middle finger reminded Cassandra of a knife point.

“I don’t need a blade,” she whispered. “I’m already dead.” Her hand plunged into her chest.

Cassandra screamed as torrents of blood seeped out from the wound, painting the white blouse crimson.

“No!” she yelled. “No, no, no!”

Her mother collapsed onto the floor and dissolved into a pool of blood that soaked into the carpet. Cassandra backed away, hyperventilating, her eyes wide and horrified. She felt her heel hit something solid and spun around.

“You!” she gasped, seeing her double standing there calmly. “What did you do to her? What did to do to my mum?!” she screamed, salty tears sliding down her face.

“But it was you that killed her, remember?” the wraith replied apathetically. “Six years ago you destroyed you mother’s happiness and caused her to make death her safe haven. Isn’t it time you paid for that…with your life?”

“Never!” Cassandra wept.

Her other half watched, contemplating for a moment, then sighed. “You will die cold and alone,” she said. “But compared to living cold and alone, maybe death is the greatest of mercies.” She manoeuvred around Cassandra to the side of the bed and picked up the dagger. “Don’t you want to become one with me?” she asked, echoing her words from their last meeting.

Cassandra stared at the blade for a moment. “Give me the knife,” she whispered.

The wraith smiled and handed her the dagger.

“I don’t need to be one with you to do what I should have done the moment you offered me this,” she said. And smiled.

Blood splattered the floor.

But it wasn’t Cassandra’s.

The clone cried out and fell to her knees, the handle of the dagger protruding from her chest. “Why?” she gasped.

“Because I’m not ready to die yet,” Cassandra explained coldly. “You made a mistake when you caused my mum to talk like that. I know she’d have wanted me to keep on living. I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m certain that neither of you were even real. You’re just figments of my imagination!”

The wraith’s lips quirked upwards. A trickle of blood escaped her lips. “Everything’s real…in…a sense,” she rasped.

Cassandra turned away as she slumped to the floor. It was eerie to watch her replica dying – and to know that she was the murderer. She quickly left the room and released a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

-Well done- the voice that was not a voice said. As always it was void of emotion, but Cassandra thought she heard a tinge of respect.

“Does this mean I get to go home?” Cassandra asked hopefully.

-You are home. You have been all along, sleeping in your bed. If you had died here, you would not have woken up.- The voice sighed. –As much as I try to understand the human mind, I cannot. While you were inside these walls I had full access to your fears, memories and emotions. Yet I couldn’t anticipate your actions. Why is this?-

“Because you have to be human to understand humans, and even for us it’s pretty confusing,” Cassandra replied. “Now tell me how to get out of here.”

-Through the front doors. I will never intrude on your dreams again.-

Back in the land of the living, Cassandra opened her eyes.