Encounterlogs
Williams Odd Encounter Sr Syl 240927
In a gripping tale set against the backdrop of London Zoo, William, a young boy, finds himself embroiled in an otherworldly experience that blurs the lines between reality and illusion. Alongside his "sister" Elora and their parents, William—or "Little Billy," as he's affectionately called—navigates a day filled with the simple joys of zoo visits, ice cream treats, and the warmth of familial bonds. Unexpectedly, the dreamy adventure takes a sinister turn as William, trapped in a dreamlike state, encounters lurking malevolence. A spirit, envious and hateful, feeds off his life force, cloaked in the guise of a normal family outing. The spirit's presence introduces a chilling undertone to the narrative, challenging William to discern reality from the deceptive peace of the dream.
As the story unfolds, William's struggle intensifies, with repetitive, unsettling anomalies hinting at the facade unraveling. His family, altered in subtle yet disturbing ways, pushes him toward choices that resonate with safety and comfort, yet feel fundamentally wrong. The situation escalates when the familiar zoo setting morphs into a nightmarish landscape, urging William to confront the harsh truth: he must awake and face the bleak realities of his life—or remain ensnared in a spectral trap, siphoning his essence under the pretense of an idyllic existence. In a desperate bid for liberation, William acknowledges the distorted reflections of his family for what they truly are: constructs of a dream weaponized by the spirit. Realizing the zoo adventure was never his reality, William's resolve strengthens; he rejects the illusion, clamoring back to consciousness and the colder, darker confines of his true surroundings. This act of defiance rebinds the spirit to its confines, though not without leaving William with lingering challenges and unresolved tensions, particularly regarding the spirit’s unsettling presence in their living space.
(William's odd encounter(SRSyl):SRSyl)
[Thu Sep 26 2024]
In London Zoo
London Zoo, nestled within the vast greenery of Regents Park, exudes an air of
both grandeur and intimacy. The entrance is flanked by tall, wrought-iron
gates, their black bars shining under the pale English sun. Beyond the gates,
wide pathways wind through meticulously curated enclosures, some tucked into
shaded groves, others basking in open stretches of sunlight. The chatter of
visitors mixes with the occasional animal call, creating a vibrant yet
controlled atmosphere.
It is night, about 63F(17C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky. There is a waning crescent moon.
William as a little tiny child, no taller no shorter than his sister, follows her around as they run across the zoo, and their parents didn't even complain about them getting away on their own, they just made a passing comment to both of them "Don't run too fast, you'll trip and fall" Tiny Billy as he ran laughing with his sister.
Soon after they reach the anticipated exhibition place, under the open blue sky of the zoo, unlike other zoos, at the London Zoo they didn't have the animals in a little sink on the ground or being some sort of completely enclosed room with a panel of glass, no, they had to go up a little platform to look at them from above in their dry looking yellowish grass habitat, the animals lounging in their rocks in the sun.
William tries to sing along with his sister, but then he realizes, he didn't know the song by heart and instead was babbling random noises to try and copy the brown haired Elora, eventually making them both start laughing at each other for a good while. After the laughter subsides, little Billy smiles, giving a hug to her sister before pointing a finger towards the habitat down below, opening his eyes and mouth wide and letting out a loud "Sis! Look!" One of the male lions had woken up from its stuppor and was walking around the place, maybe it seemed unimpressive, but to him it was plenty enough to get excited
"Wow," the Mother said. "Look, Will. Lions! There are lions!"
The beasts weren't moving in an aggressive manner. Down below, they lounged, sunbathing rather than prowling about. They were far enough below the raised platform that the giant cats would not be able to reach William and his family.
Safe. Peaceful. Not dangerous at all.
"Yeah," the sister agreed, voice happy and excited. "I see them. They're right down there, aren't they? Just laying about. Staying nice and still. They don't have to worry about anything and neither do we. You have never to worry! We're safe. Everything is fine! The lions can't get us up here! Nothing can get us up here."
Was William on a teal platform set above lions in a zoo? No. Not truly. William was on his couch, though he couldn't know it. Near him was the spirit feeding. Envious. Hateful. Raging. The trailer was growing colder by the moment. It couldn't get to him, not with the ritual binding it in place. Yet it didn't have to get all the way to him. It just needed something from him. To drain him of that precious life enough so that it could have the energy to throw off the working keeping in place.
What would William do? Would he go along with the dream? Would he sing with his sister and explore the tranquil zoo. Or would he strive to go back to that cold, dark place. Where those nail-driven eyes stared into him? Could he bear to return to Haven. To the waking world? To the place where he had been hospitalized, again and again. To the horrors. The suffering.
"We should go to the warthogs next," the father declared, standing tall and proud and confident. He didn't stand like that did he? He was a worn down man. Stooping. He had been ever since William was old enough to remember. The loss of his daughter had wrecked him. Yet here he was. "Hakuna matata," he sang. "It means no worries. For the rest of your days."
"Or we can just stay here," the sister said.
"It's up to you Billy. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do? Today is your very special day?"
The whole family, together. Smiling. Noticing him.
William smi- Or rather, Little Billy smiled towards his family, he was so happy to be in the zoo, he did get a sense of oddity for a second, but it soon faded away, returning to his special day at the zoo. He thinks for a moment as his friendly relatives questioning him, doing what he would pickup unknowingly during the later years and bringing an idly tapping finger to his chin while he shifting his gaze slightly downwards, helping him concentrate, helping him think "How about the penguins? We can go see the penguins, and on the way there, get some ice cream!"
William was oblivious, but Little Billy was having the day of his life, his sister had liked his idea! And Mom and Dad had gave them a couple bucks to get the ice creams themselves while they went to ask about the whole penguin feeding experiences. And the two siblings run and run happily across the floors of the zoo, looking for the ice cream stand? Or was it a truck in here? He didn't really know, but he didn't seem to care, he wasn't going to let that get to him.
Then finally, after a while of looking around, there it was, a little stand not too far away from the dinning area and the bathrooms. They both run up to the woman serving the other kids and parents, and after waiting for- They didn't need to wait?! They immediately got to the woman and Billy pointed towards the chocolate ice cream on display "I want a cone with a ball of that-" He pauses, remembering his Mom's words about only getting one ball, but he was feeling cheeky, and then pointed towards the vanilla "And one of that too!" Then he turns towards the kid Elora, maybe Lily or Eli, he had never thought about it for some reason "What about you sis? What's your favorite flavor" He asks with a smile
Its voice was low and soft and rasping. "No worries. For the rest of your days." The dark haired girl was leaning forward, the yellow of her rotting teeth hidden in part by the transparent cloth shrouding it. Anger in its voice, it hissed. "No worries. For the ressssttt of yooouurrrrr dayyys." Teeth bared in a rictus. Body straining against the working that held it in place. Fingers like claws, reaching out as snarled while staring at William. "No worrrrriessssss. For the Resstcchttttt of yourhghghghhh daissss..."
Darkness so deep in the room. His breath misting above him in the chill. The windows of the trailer, clouding, so that those outside, if they had been there, wouldn't be able to look in. Wouldn't be able to see. There was no help. There was just William.
"No worries," the sister said back. "I'll take any flavor. Vanilla sounds amazing, brother, mine." The scoops were coming after that. Two scoops for the special boy. Two scoops of vanilla for the brown haired smiling girl. The sun was bright, hot. Nearby tables had umbrellas open above them offering shade. Offering rest, from the day.
The chill of the ice cream felt so real in the dream. Outside of it it was more even real. The cold had become icy and that chill was on his lips. "For the rest of..."
"Your day is going so wonderfully," the sister cooed. "We're not having any problems at all. No one is drowning here. No one is stabbing you. There aren't any police. Isn't it wonderful, brother mine, that we can just go through life without any problems, never having to worry?" There was little so opposed to his sister's actual philosophy.
They were caught of course. The mother saw. "Little billy," the mother said. "You got two scoops! Good for you. We can get even more if you want. More scoops for Billy. Would you like that?"
"Naughghgh woargies," it snarled, hand creeping forward centimeter by centimeter as it fought against the bindings.
He rested on the sofa, he had assured his sister he would not and look the damage it was causing. At least William wasn't aware of it, not in any degree anyone could recognize. The cold, that he did catch on, though very lightly, and it looked more like a body automatic respose, his arms coming closer to his chest, and his back rolling to a side, unluckily for the spirit kept help, having put its target a couple of centimeters away in that single movement.
Little Billy though was having fun licking onto his ice cream, he was a little scared when Mom had caught him being cheeky, but she didn't seem to care about it, so everything was good! Right?
Right?
Moments later Little Billy and his sister, Little Eli, were taking a seat on the nearby tables, they even had umbrellas to protect from the harsh sun, offering a nice refreshing shade that would shield not only their skin but also their treat, the the voice of his sister, soft, sweet, childish and happy "Your day is going so wonderfully. We're not having any problems at all".
Wait, didn't this just happen?
Yes, it had? No, it couldn't, he must have imagined it, surely it was that weird sensation everyone mention that he couldn't pronounce or remember, the french one, dellave or something like that, yes, that sounded right. But then, he kept on listening to his sister...
"No one is drowning here." He felt his chest hurt, and for a moment he was laid down on a bed on some clean looking room, only to be gone and back at the table a moment later.
"No one is stabbing you." Right on his neck a sy- Right on his neck something sharp had just caused him a big open wound, he was laying on the floor of a trailer, having tripped down... And suddenly back on the table. someone "There aren't any police" That bed again...
"Isn't it wonderful, brother mine?" He was still standing at the tables, and so he left a sigh of relief, he didn't know what that was about but he didn't want to either, he just wanted to forget and keep enjoying his day, so he looks up to Little El- Elora, to Elora, ten years older than him, sitting poorly and dropping half of her ice cream onto the floor, hair colored an experimental green that didn't seem to convince her too much "What-" Little Billy tries to ask, only to wake up back at the tables, looking towards Little Eli with a pale face of his own, sweating a tad, like he had just seen some ghost
He rested on the sofa, he had assured his sister he would not and look the damage it was causing. At least William wasn't aware of it, not in any degree anyone could recognize. The cold, that he did catch on, though very lightly, and it looked more like a body automatic respose, his arms coming closer to his chest, and his back rolling to a side, unluckily for the spirit kept help, having put its target a couple of centimeters away in that single movement.
Little Billy though was having fun licking onto his ice cream, he was a little scared when Mom had caught him being cheeky, but she didn't seem to care about it, so everything was good! Right?
Right?
Moments later Little Billy and his sister, Little Eli, were taking a seat on the nearby tables, they even had umbrellas to protect from the harsh sun, offering a nice refreshing shade that would shield not only their skin but also their treat, the the voice of his sister, soft, sweet, childish and happy "Your day is going so wonderfully. We're not having any problems at all".
Wait, didn't this just happen?
Yes, it had? No, it couldn't, he must have imagined it, surely it was that weird sensation everyone mention that he couldn't pronounce or remember, the french one, dellave or something like that, yes, that sounded right. But then, he kept on listening to his sister...
"No one is drowning here." He felt his chest hurt, and for a moment he was laid down on a bed on some clean looking room, only to be gone and back at the table a moment later.
"No one is stabbing you." Right on his neck a sy- Right on his neck something sharp had just caused him a big open wound, he was laying on the floor of a trailer, having tripped down... And suddenly back on the table.
"There aren't any police" That bed again...
"Isn't it wonderful, brother mine?" He was still standing at the tables, and so he left a sigh of relief, he didn't know what that was about but he didn't want to either, he just wanted to forget and keep enjoying his day, so he looks up to Little El- Elora, to Elora, ten years older than him, sitting poorly and dropping half of her ice cream onto the floor, hair colored an experimental green that didn't seem to convince her too much "What-" Little Billy tries to ask, only to wake up back at the tables, looking towards Little Eli with a pale face of his own, sweating a tad, like he had just seen some ghost
"The rest, the reesscth, the resssccthtt," the spirit hissed. Wind kicked at the trees outside, making them groan, drowning out the noise that might give warning to the sleeping girls in the bedroom. The spirit had been at the wall. Trapped there. It had been the same wall that William had been cowering against just the other night, when the spirits claw like nails had been racing for his neck only for them to stop at the last instant as it was caught in the binding which had rooted it in place. Yet it wasn't there now. The binding was still there, still active, but it could push against it, with what it was draining and it was pushing. Bit by bloody bit the malevolent spirit that had corrupted William's dream was closer and closer. Nearly a meter from where it had been originally.
Brown haired. Normal. A normal girl. The sister. The normal sister. "Oh, you dropped your ice cream. But that's okay. Hakuna Matata! It means..."
"Rest. Reessssttttt," the spirit hissed out.
The sun of the park had been so hot, but with the ice cream there was a chill. Or maybe it was the shade from the umbrella above him. Then again it could have been the cool of the metal table. The wind blew through, tugging heat. There was another explanation of course. That he was cold, not because of the dream, but because of what was happening outside of it.
"Do you want more ice cream," the mother asked. "Children love ice cream billy. You can have all the ice cream."
"We can play together," the brown haired sister suggested. "Would you like to play, Billy? Children love to play!"
"Cheetah are fast Billy," the father offered. "We could go to their enclosure and you could see them. They're the fastest animal alive."
What would William do? We could keep letting himself get distracted by the pleasantness of the dream? Would he question them? Would he choose his own path? Or was the dark spirit that envied him going to take and take and take until he was only a husk of his former self and it was free. Free to ruin. To rip.
Little Billy seems to forget about what just happened, there's a still uneasy feeling clinging to his chest, but he no longer remembers, so it's fine, right? He stands up from the chair, having finished his ice cream, he had finished it, right? Yes he had. He stands up from the chair, ready to move on to the next thing, looking around to stop a huge map tucked to a side, covered in a protective glass layer, in which he catches his reflection. He looked fine, completely recovered, just a healthy eight year old at the zoo, except he was a bit pale... He was still pale, why was he pale? Little Billy was just the same skin tone as every other kid, and as his sister... But the reflection, there he was whiter, he was pale like... Pale like...
Like William. William had been that pale his whole life, always a bit more than even his family members. And that was only growing more true with each passing moment, laid on the couch, body now trembling to the cold flooding the room, skin losing a tad of color as the energy and his life are inadvertently syphoned out of him. But he seemed no closer to waking up, maybe a little twitch in his mouth or his brow, but was that a signal really?
Little Billy though, he's already forgotten that he's pale, he's looked all over the map to watch the animals he likes, and now walks back to his family, anouncing to everyone "We are going to go see the wolverines!" Do they have wolverines in the London Zoo? Apparently they do!
But right when he's leaving, Little Billy notices something, as his family stands up, his eyes linger on one member.
Little Eli, or well, not little anymore. Her sister was normal and had brown hair, that was all good, none of that green dye nightmare that made him pale. But something was odd. He looked closer at her, had she always been ten years older than him? It sounded right yet it was strange... But it was true, he thought, he was eight and she was eighteen, yes that bit was right. But it was odd, even as they start walking he keeps thinking, sneaking glances at her sister. She was tall, like his father, or well, almost. Brown long hair, a bit muscly, she even had a sizeable chest. He was much like other relatives of dad. Yet for some reason he expected to see something different. He was almost... Sad? That wasn't the word... Stranged? Put off? Why did he think his sister was short? Or weird? She was normal, she was just in front of him...
And of course, it was a dream. And so the came to him. There was a newspaper that was being read by one of the people near William. The top article was titled, "Missing Girl In Surrey." There was a picture there of a forest near William's home. Yet even as Little Billy looked at it, the Sister was stepping in front of it.
"No worries," the Sister said. "Rest. Rest."
It was getting colder. The clouds were probably the cause, weren't they? Sweeping in, dark and blocking out the sun. "Are you sure you want the wolverines Billy? We can play in the snow," the mother said, voice cooing. "It's going to start snowing, Billy. We can rest in the snow. Rest in peace, in the snow."
The Sister cooed as well, "The penguins like the snow. We can go to them, Billy. You like swimming right? How would you like to swim with the penguins? Doesn't that sound fun?"
"No worries, little Billy," the mother said.
"No worries," the father declared.
"No worries," the sister lilted out.
"No worries," the girl with nailed out eyes promised in a dark rasp. She was closer now. Two meters from the wall. Halfway to William.
But he had wanted the wolverines. And so to the Wolverines they were. A wolverine is a formidable creature, despite its relatively small stature. About the size of a medium dog, it stands on stocky legs with a robust, muscular body covered in dense, dark brown fur. This fur is thick and oily, well-suited to protect it from the cold and the elements of its typically northern, forested habitats. Running along its back are lighter, tawny stripes that stretch from shoulder to tail, giving it a distinct appearance.
Its head is broad, with small, rounded ears that barely peek out from its fur, and sharp, alert eyes that seem constantly aware of its surroundings. The wolverines face often appears masked, with lighter fur framing its muzzle and forehead, creating an almost sinister look. Its nose is black and leathery, paired with a mouth full of sharp teeth designed for tearing into flesh and cracking bones.
There were three such wolverines in the pen. There were name tags for the three different wolverines, posted on the window before their cage. "Rest," read the first name tag. "Your," read the second name tag. "Days," read the third name tag.
"Do you like the wolverines?" The sister asked.
"Do you want the penguins instead?" The mother asked.
"Regghghghghgh," the spirit hissed.
Little Billy seems taken aback by this, everyone is acting weird, so weird. And that newspaper, what was that about? Why is everyone repeating the same thing over and over, and asking him constantly. How did he even get here, he doesn't remember doing so from the dinning area to the wolverines pen. Everything was starting to be confusing and weird, and he didn't understand it.
He looked around the place, the zoo seemed to be lacking details, as if there were areas of reality that weren't... Meant to be look at, like he was looking at a flat plain color, just to a moment later be facing his family once more, which only scared him further. Even more as he looked at those twisted versions of them, taking in each one individually...
The father, always proud and confident, so tall and imposing, he could make anyone stop in their tracks with a well placed glare or a scolding remark, an extrovert, just like every single one of the four family members. But the father he was looking at, he had nothing to do with that, sitting on a sofa in the middle of the zoo, unclean, with a half assed shave, and a belly barely contained by his shirt. He was crying rivers, snot coming out of his nose and trailing down but he didn't seem to care, holding in his hand one piece of newspaper "Missing Girl in Surrey" he could read, Dad's other hand holding a couple pictures that Little Billy couldn't reach to look at.
To his side, his mother. Unlike Dad, the mother has shorter, as was the whole side of her family, with always polished looks, caring for things like makeup and haircare as well as adequated ettiquete. His mother was always the strongest at home, the one that made the decisions and lead the rest around, clearly the pack leader and the one to make the hard decisions. But when he looked at her, he did not see his mother, he did see Mom. A strict woman, unreasonable and overprotective, very severe, putting on a strong and menacing face, but then turning around and crying on her own. Mom was listing things Little Billy couldn't do, for his safety she was saying, yet he didn't understand half of it. She handed him a book, and that seemed to distract him, enough for him to turn his gaze towards the last person...
Eli, like he had been seeing her up until now, tall, busty, with long brown hair, talking about guys her age or going out with her friends, flashing smiles and reaching to pet him, it was conforting having a sister. Then she starts saying something that sounds vaguely familiar. "Did you know that the tooth fairy..." He shakes his head, he doesn't want to listen. No. He doesn't know why but he doesn't want. But he sees how her mouth keeps moving and speaking. How she becomes shorter. How her chest shrinks. How the boys turn to weird creatures and the friends to jars with liquids of several consistencies. How her hair turns green little by little "... it is a way to engrave into..." He isn't listening, yet somehow he knows what she's saying and it is paining him, beyond measure. "Don't" He says, but she doesn't listen. She keeps going. This isn't for him, this is for William, why was he pestering him?. Wait, who was it for? Surely not for him, but for whom then?
Dreams. They can be confusing. But there was a more grounded place if only William could get back to it. The waking world. The world of the living, though, in that moment, invaded by the dead.
The wind was whining among the thorns of Rose Lane. It tugged at branches, setting them to groaning. Groaning, not unlike William's groans, as he grew subtly weaker. The windows of the trailer had become frosted and icy. The malevolent spirit was more than halfway to the helplessly comatose William. The brown haired young man had been through a lot in the last week. Between drownings and stabbings and false accusation it was no wonder that a dream in which things were so much closer to a false ideal would be hard for him to resist.
Strength was being sapped from him. Life force, leaking bit by bit, as the malevolent and envious spirit grew closer. The spirit envied William for a thing that he did not have. It was envious, because it saw family. Yet William and his family were not close in the way a happy family would be. So as the spirit projected a fantasy for William, it wasn't just the fantasy that the spirit wanted. It was the fantasy that William had wanted: one in which his family life was normal rather than cursed by misfortune.
Which was why there were little breaks and cracks in the fantasy. William could not remember having ever been to the zoo with his family - he had wanted to go, but somehow it had never happened, at least, so far as he could recall.
There were other clues as well. His sister wasn't the right age. The weather wasn't behaving properly, changing too fast, because it was reflecting the temperature back in the bedroom. People also didn't tend to be so obliging to children. Then there was the strange way that things seemed to be repeating themselves, the same words and concepts coming up again and again and again.
"Hakuna Matata. It means no worries, for the rest of your days. A problem free, philosophy," the sister so unlike his sister sang.
There was a reason that there might be no worries. A horrible reason. Wouldn't it be just like his sister to try and keep his life exciting? Yet admitting that would be rejecting the dream. Because if that place distantly remembered was real, then the ice cream he could enjoy, the wolverines he could see, the happiness that was his to join into if only he just surrendered to it and let the dream take him on its course. It would be fake. It would be false.
Would William try to resist the dream? Would he try to wake? With how long it had gone on and this growing weakness, could he wake?
Little Billy looks horrified at what was happening in front of him, the vision of his so loved relatives being so spoiled, so corrupted beyong measure into such a sad reality... So why was he so familiar with them? Why was he seemed them so clearly? Why were the visions of his mom, dad and sister come back even when he knew they couldn't be like that? Dad was happy and proud, no way he'd ever be like that... And mom was cheerful and a natural leader, not some security guard handing him books to distract him... And his sister, his sister had him the most confused, he couldn't even tell how should she be... Was she his age? Or older? Was we normal? Did she have brown hair? Was she short or tall? Did she have muscle or was she scrawny?
He had so many questions regarding her, yet when right before him, his sister seemed to stabilize as Eli, he saw something clear "You... You're not tall... You're not strong. You don't talk about boys and- You... You're just like M-"
Wait, he had heard that before. No, he had said that before... But where? Where did he tell her that?
He looks around as if to find some clue, but he sees nothing useful, he kicks around as he tries to ignore the sentences coming from what seems a lobotomized version of his relatives designed to torture him, he was unstable. And he couldn't find any clues, fucking Boston Zoo, nothing useful here.
Wait, did he just swear? Or more importantly Boston? No, this was London... London Zoo... No, he had said that sentence in Boston. Someone had said it. And that's when it dawns on him. He is not Little Billy. He is William. William said that line to Elora, not Eli or Little Eli, in Haven, Boston. And now he repeats it, realizing his mistake, not yet his situation but starting to realize all of the little things his dream had been trying to cover up, to wash up and shove down his throat. Not yet awake, but now definitely struggling in his slumber, the dreaming William says to Elora once more "You're just like Mom"
The zoo around William shimmered like a mirage, as if the fabric of the dream itself was growing thin. The bright sunshine flickered, casting shifting shadows that seemed too long, too dark, for a clear day. The warm air from the lion's enclosure became faintly oppressive, like the stillness before a storm. His sister's voice, once so cheery, now sounded hollow, echoing as if from far away.
Billy, she insistently. Were safe, remember? Safe. No worries.
But the cracks in the dream were becoming harder to ignore. The wolverines sharp eyes seemed to follow him, their unblinking stare more predatory than before. The shadows under the benches, where families ate ice cream and laughed, twisted unnaturally. And then, William noticed the penguin enclosure across the path the water was frozen over, thick with ice where the penguins should have been swimming. The entire zoo seemed to warp, a creeping cold spreading outward from him, distorting the dreamscape into something more sinister.
A surrendered mind would still have things it could cling to. The ice cream, the lions, the peaceful day at the zoo his family together, happy. It was everything he'd wanted. But there were too many wrong details, too many cracks in the perfect facade. His father, who had never stood so tall. His mother, who had never smiled so warmly. His sister, normal. His real sister wasn't.
And then the voice came again, slithering from the edges of his consciousness.
No worrieesssss... it hissed, sickly sweet, like a lullaby meant to keep him asleep. For the resssst of your dayssss...
The darkness in the trailer living room thickened. The malevolence was closer still. The temperature around William dropped to freezing, his breath fogging in front of him even within the dream. His limbs felt leaden, his strength being sapped away piece by piece.
In the dream, his sister reached for him, her hand too pale, too cold. Come on, Billy. Lets play some more. We can stay here forever, where nothing bad happens. Just us, together. She smiled, but it didnt reach her eyes.
The wolverines prowled closer, their dark eyes reflecting something of the nailed-out-eyes of the envious spirit which was attacking William. Their name tags "Rest," "Your," "Days" shone ominously under the dream's flickering unlight.
Was he going to let it happen? Let the spirit take him, drain him until he was just a hollow shell? Or could he wake himself up, return to the reality that awaited himthe reality of the trailer, the ritual, the bound spirit that was so dangerously close?
He could feel it now, almost touching him, its malevolent hunger gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. His body trembled under the weight of its envious gaze.
A cold wind swept through the dream zoo, carrying with it the distant sound of something crackinglike ice breaking, or the bindings fraying just a little more. The wolverines paced. His sister, the mockery of his sister, was still smiling, too wide, her hand outstretched. "No worries, Billy," she whispered, her voice now a rasp. "No worrriesss... forever."
The real world tugged at him, icy and painful. Would he try to fight the dream, claw his way back to consciousness before it was too late? Or would he stay, lulled into submission by the sweet, poisonous dream of a life that was never his?
William remained unmoving for a moment, watching everything warp and change around him, turning into wrong versions of themselves twisting in horrid and painful to watch forms. His whole body aching, he was cold, he hadn't noticed until now, but he didn't even notice he was himself until now.
No. His head refuses all of this. It looked more comfortable, more idyllic, surely this was a life he had previously dreamt with. But now he knew it wasn't his. It was all coming back. Piece by painful piece, forced to relive the trauma of his past, and the sad life of his family. He runs away from the illusion, leaving behind all of the copy cats.
He doesn't even turn to fight them, no. He has nothing to do with them. They are not a part of his life. Not anymore. Not ever before or again. He runs and runs, until he thinks he can no longer, and then he pushes forward a bit more, just to get away from that horrible nightmare.
And when he opens his eyes, he is once again in Haven, Boston. Lazily looking up at the ceiling of some trailer, huh, he must be laying on the couch then, he assumes. Just a horrible nightmare. And a second later he notices the spirit that was trapped almost touching him, approaching in his periphery and making him hurt the closer it gets. His whole body aching and in pain.
The cold sweat in which he would have awoken turning out be actually cold sweat on his forehead, so cold that it had been frozen. And this same temperature was keeping his limbs from moving as he wanted. He wanted to jump, or to run away, to kick away from the spirit. But he couldn't. His attempts made him to fall to the floor with a noisy thud, that hurts way more than it sure given his ironically fitting ice cream condition, and with the impossibility of standing back up on his own, he begins to crawl away, little by little dragging around his almost unmoving limbs, just like a worm trying to escape its predator.
The dream had fractured, the idyllic scenes of the zoo shattering like glass. The warmth of the sunlit paths gave way to an all-consuming cold that seeped into his very bones. His eyelids fluttered open, and he found himself back in the dim confines of the trailer's living room. The transition from dream to reality was jarring.
The air was frigid, each breath producing a faint cloud of vapor that lingered before dissolving into the darkness. Frost clung to the windows, intricate patterns spreading like spiderwebs across the glass. The only light came from a distant streetlamp outside, casting elongated shadows that danced ominously along the walls.
Then he saw it.
Pet.
The malevolent spirit loomed mere feet away, its form more distinct and horrifying than before. Wrapped in tattered gray grave cloth, the apparition of the girl stood with a posture both rigid and unnatural. Her eyes or the voids where her eyes should have been were sunken and dark, as if nails had been driven deep into them, leaving only shadowy hollows that seemed to absorb all light.
Her mouth twisted into a grotesque semblance of a smile, revealing teeth stained and jagged, partially obscured by the translucent shroud that covered her face. Wisps of matted hair escaped from beneath the cloth, framing a visage of pure malice. She reached out with skeletal hands, fingers elongated into claw-like talons that grasped at the air between them.
"Reeessst... Reeessst..." the spirit rasped, her voice a chilling whisper that reverberated in the silent room. Each syllable dripped with venom and an insatiable hunger.
William's body felt heavy, as though an unseen force was pressing down upon him. His limbs were numb from the cold, and a profound exhaustion weighed on his mind. It had taken him so long to escape, to wake, to follow the clues, and now that he was back in the waking world he could feel the consequence of that.
Outside, the wind howled through the thorns of Rose Lane, branches scratching against the trailer's exterior like nails on a chalkboard.
William had fallen back at this, falling from the couch. Scrabbling backward. Feeling his cold sweat like ice on him. He was awake now. The creature's feeding stopped.
The spirit glared at him. Impotent malevolent rage coloring its ghastly features. William was awake. Its feeding stopped. Its escape, stopped. And without the extra energy it had been gaining from his life force it couldn't push back against the binding any longer. It went still, again. Bound once more.
William keeps on crawling away from the creature, that thing that his sister had called Pet and insisted on keeping on the living room, against every single one of his warnings or requests. He drags himself in the direction of the bathroom, only then noticing the spirit is no longer on his trail. His job doesn't get any easier though.
His body was still heavy and tired, his limbs half frozen and he didn't even have the mind to give a shout to Elora, who is sleeping with some other gal in the bedroom. Even as he reminded himself of that, he didn't even feel the ability to be annoyed about it until a solid half an hour later.
By that time, having already reached the bathroom, and being at least a bit more capable of moving around, he decides to stay in there, he'll sleep in the bathtub if necessary or- Well, as his gaze looks to the window he can see the sunset rising, nearly seven in the morning, great, no more sleeping...
With that, he sighs, some bits of frost still clinging to his body, gathering his whole strength, the blood rushing towards his face. He was mad he had to give up the bed, and at having been exposed to a near death situation, again, because she wanted to play around with some girl. From now on, that bed was his, and 'Pet' was never sleeping close to him ever again. With his breath taken and stregth gathered, he lets out the loudest scream he can possibly let out, straight against the door that connects the bathroom and the bedroom "Elora!"
As the story unfolds, William's struggle intensifies, with repetitive, unsettling anomalies hinting at the facade unraveling. His family, altered in subtle yet disturbing ways, pushes him toward choices that resonate with safety and comfort, yet feel fundamentally wrong. The situation escalates when the familiar zoo setting morphs into a nightmarish landscape, urging William to confront the harsh truth: he must awake and face the bleak realities of his life—or remain ensnared in a spectral trap, siphoning his essence under the pretense of an idyllic existence. In a desperate bid for liberation, William acknowledges the distorted reflections of his family for what they truly are: constructs of a dream weaponized by the spirit. Realizing the zoo adventure was never his reality, William's resolve strengthens; he rejects the illusion, clamoring back to consciousness and the colder, darker confines of his true surroundings. This act of defiance rebinds the spirit to its confines, though not without leaving William with lingering challenges and unresolved tensions, particularly regarding the spirit’s unsettling presence in their living space.
(William's odd encounter(SRSyl):SRSyl)
[Thu Sep 26 2024]
In London Zoo
London Zoo, nestled within the vast greenery of Regents Park, exudes an air of
both grandeur and intimacy. The entrance is flanked by tall, wrought-iron
gates, their black bars shining under the pale English sun. Beyond the gates,
wide pathways wind through meticulously curated enclosures, some tucked into
shaded groves, others basking in open stretches of sunlight. The chatter of
visitors mixes with the occasional animal call, creating a vibrant yet
controlled atmosphere.
It is night, about 63F(17C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky. There is a waning crescent moon.
William as a little tiny child, no taller no shorter than his sister, follows her around as they run across the zoo, and their parents didn't even complain about them getting away on their own, they just made a passing comment to both of them "Don't run too fast, you'll trip and fall" Tiny Billy as he ran laughing with his sister.
Soon after they reach the anticipated exhibition place, under the open blue sky of the zoo, unlike other zoos, at the London Zoo they didn't have the animals in a little sink on the ground or being some sort of completely enclosed room with a panel of glass, no, they had to go up a little platform to look at them from above in their dry looking yellowish grass habitat, the animals lounging in their rocks in the sun.
William tries to sing along with his sister, but then he realizes, he didn't know the song by heart and instead was babbling random noises to try and copy the brown haired Elora, eventually making them both start laughing at each other for a good while. After the laughter subsides, little Billy smiles, giving a hug to her sister before pointing a finger towards the habitat down below, opening his eyes and mouth wide and letting out a loud "Sis! Look!" One of the male lions had woken up from its stuppor and was walking around the place, maybe it seemed unimpressive, but to him it was plenty enough to get excited
"Wow," the Mother said. "Look, Will. Lions! There are lions!"
The beasts weren't moving in an aggressive manner. Down below, they lounged, sunbathing rather than prowling about. They were far enough below the raised platform that the giant cats would not be able to reach William and his family.
Safe. Peaceful. Not dangerous at all.
"Yeah," the sister agreed, voice happy and excited. "I see them. They're right down there, aren't they? Just laying about. Staying nice and still. They don't have to worry about anything and neither do we. You have never to worry! We're safe. Everything is fine! The lions can't get us up here! Nothing can get us up here."
Was William on a teal platform set above lions in a zoo? No. Not truly. William was on his couch, though he couldn't know it. Near him was the spirit feeding. Envious. Hateful. Raging. The trailer was growing colder by the moment. It couldn't get to him, not with the ritual binding it in place. Yet it didn't have to get all the way to him. It just needed something from him. To drain him of that precious life enough so that it could have the energy to throw off the working keeping in place.
What would William do? Would he go along with the dream? Would he sing with his sister and explore the tranquil zoo. Or would he strive to go back to that cold, dark place. Where those nail-driven eyes stared into him? Could he bear to return to Haven. To the waking world? To the place where he had been hospitalized, again and again. To the horrors. The suffering.
"We should go to the warthogs next," the father declared, standing tall and proud and confident. He didn't stand like that did he? He was a worn down man. Stooping. He had been ever since William was old enough to remember. The loss of his daughter had wrecked him. Yet here he was. "Hakuna matata," he sang. "It means no worries. For the rest of your days."
"Or we can just stay here," the sister said.
"It's up to you Billy. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do? Today is your very special day?"
The whole family, together. Smiling. Noticing him.
William smi- Or rather, Little Billy smiled towards his family, he was so happy to be in the zoo, he did get a sense of oddity for a second, but it soon faded away, returning to his special day at the zoo. He thinks for a moment as his friendly relatives questioning him, doing what he would pickup unknowingly during the later years and bringing an idly tapping finger to his chin while he shifting his gaze slightly downwards, helping him concentrate, helping him think "How about the penguins? We can go see the penguins, and on the way there, get some ice cream!"
William was oblivious, but Little Billy was having the day of his life, his sister had liked his idea! And Mom and Dad had gave them a couple bucks to get the ice creams themselves while they went to ask about the whole penguin feeding experiences. And the two siblings run and run happily across the floors of the zoo, looking for the ice cream stand? Or was it a truck in here? He didn't really know, but he didn't seem to care, he wasn't going to let that get to him.
Then finally, after a while of looking around, there it was, a little stand not too far away from the dinning area and the bathrooms. They both run up to the woman serving the other kids and parents, and after waiting for- They didn't need to wait?! They immediately got to the woman and Billy pointed towards the chocolate ice cream on display "I want a cone with a ball of that-" He pauses, remembering his Mom's words about only getting one ball, but he was feeling cheeky, and then pointed towards the vanilla "And one of that too!" Then he turns towards the kid Elora, maybe Lily or Eli, he had never thought about it for some reason "What about you sis? What's your favorite flavor" He asks with a smile
Its voice was low and soft and rasping. "No worries. For the rest of your days." The dark haired girl was leaning forward, the yellow of her rotting teeth hidden in part by the transparent cloth shrouding it. Anger in its voice, it hissed. "No worries. For the ressssttt of yooouurrrrr dayyys." Teeth bared in a rictus. Body straining against the working that held it in place. Fingers like claws, reaching out as snarled while staring at William. "No worrrrriessssss. For the Resstcchttttt of yourhghghghhh daissss..."
Darkness so deep in the room. His breath misting above him in the chill. The windows of the trailer, clouding, so that those outside, if they had been there, wouldn't be able to look in. Wouldn't be able to see. There was no help. There was just William.
"No worries," the sister said back. "I'll take any flavor. Vanilla sounds amazing, brother, mine." The scoops were coming after that. Two scoops for the special boy. Two scoops of vanilla for the brown haired smiling girl. The sun was bright, hot. Nearby tables had umbrellas open above them offering shade. Offering rest, from the day.
The chill of the ice cream felt so real in the dream. Outside of it it was more even real. The cold had become icy and that chill was on his lips. "For the rest of..."
"Your day is going so wonderfully," the sister cooed. "We're not having any problems at all. No one is drowning here. No one is stabbing you. There aren't any police. Isn't it wonderful, brother mine, that we can just go through life without any problems, never having to worry?" There was little so opposed to his sister's actual philosophy.
They were caught of course. The mother saw. "Little billy," the mother said. "You got two scoops! Good for you. We can get even more if you want. More scoops for Billy. Would you like that?"
"Naughghgh woargies," it snarled, hand creeping forward centimeter by centimeter as it fought against the bindings.
He rested on the sofa, he had assured his sister he would not and look the damage it was causing. At least William wasn't aware of it, not in any degree anyone could recognize. The cold, that he did catch on, though very lightly, and it looked more like a body automatic respose, his arms coming closer to his chest, and his back rolling to a side, unluckily for the spirit kept help, having put its target a couple of centimeters away in that single movement.
Little Billy though was having fun licking onto his ice cream, he was a little scared when Mom had caught him being cheeky, but she didn't seem to care about it, so everything was good! Right?
Right?
Moments later Little Billy and his sister, Little Eli, were taking a seat on the nearby tables, they even had umbrellas to protect from the harsh sun, offering a nice refreshing shade that would shield not only their skin but also their treat, the the voice of his sister, soft, sweet, childish and happy "Your day is going so wonderfully. We're not having any problems at all".
Wait, didn't this just happen?
Yes, it had? No, it couldn't, he must have imagined it, surely it was that weird sensation everyone mention that he couldn't pronounce or remember, the french one, dellave or something like that, yes, that sounded right. But then, he kept on listening to his sister...
"No one is drowning here." He felt his chest hurt, and for a moment he was laid down on a bed on some clean looking room, only to be gone and back at the table a moment later.
"No one is stabbing you." Right on his neck a sy- Right on his neck something sharp had just caused him a big open wound, he was laying on the floor of a trailer, having tripped down... And suddenly back on the table. someone "There aren't any police" That bed again...
"Isn't it wonderful, brother mine?" He was still standing at the tables, and so he left a sigh of relief, he didn't know what that was about but he didn't want to either, he just wanted to forget and keep enjoying his day, so he looks up to Little El- Elora, to Elora, ten years older than him, sitting poorly and dropping half of her ice cream onto the floor, hair colored an experimental green that didn't seem to convince her too much "What-" Little Billy tries to ask, only to wake up back at the tables, looking towards Little Eli with a pale face of his own, sweating a tad, like he had just seen some ghost
He rested on the sofa, he had assured his sister he would not and look the damage it was causing. At least William wasn't aware of it, not in any degree anyone could recognize. The cold, that he did catch on, though very lightly, and it looked more like a body automatic respose, his arms coming closer to his chest, and his back rolling to a side, unluckily for the spirit kept help, having put its target a couple of centimeters away in that single movement.
Little Billy though was having fun licking onto his ice cream, he was a little scared when Mom had caught him being cheeky, but she didn't seem to care about it, so everything was good! Right?
Right?
Moments later Little Billy and his sister, Little Eli, were taking a seat on the nearby tables, they even had umbrellas to protect from the harsh sun, offering a nice refreshing shade that would shield not only their skin but also their treat, the the voice of his sister, soft, sweet, childish and happy "Your day is going so wonderfully. We're not having any problems at all".
Wait, didn't this just happen?
Yes, it had? No, it couldn't, he must have imagined it, surely it was that weird sensation everyone mention that he couldn't pronounce or remember, the french one, dellave or something like that, yes, that sounded right. But then, he kept on listening to his sister...
"No one is drowning here." He felt his chest hurt, and for a moment he was laid down on a bed on some clean looking room, only to be gone and back at the table a moment later.
"No one is stabbing you." Right on his neck a sy- Right on his neck something sharp had just caused him a big open wound, he was laying on the floor of a trailer, having tripped down... And suddenly back on the table.
"There aren't any police" That bed again...
"Isn't it wonderful, brother mine?" He was still standing at the tables, and so he left a sigh of relief, he didn't know what that was about but he didn't want to either, he just wanted to forget and keep enjoying his day, so he looks up to Little El- Elora, to Elora, ten years older than him, sitting poorly and dropping half of her ice cream onto the floor, hair colored an experimental green that didn't seem to convince her too much "What-" Little Billy tries to ask, only to wake up back at the tables, looking towards Little Eli with a pale face of his own, sweating a tad, like he had just seen some ghost
"The rest, the reesscth, the resssccthtt," the spirit hissed. Wind kicked at the trees outside, making them groan, drowning out the noise that might give warning to the sleeping girls in the bedroom. The spirit had been at the wall. Trapped there. It had been the same wall that William had been cowering against just the other night, when the spirits claw like nails had been racing for his neck only for them to stop at the last instant as it was caught in the binding which had rooted it in place. Yet it wasn't there now. The binding was still there, still active, but it could push against it, with what it was draining and it was pushing. Bit by bloody bit the malevolent spirit that had corrupted William's dream was closer and closer. Nearly a meter from where it had been originally.
Brown haired. Normal. A normal girl. The sister. The normal sister. "Oh, you dropped your ice cream. But that's okay. Hakuna Matata! It means..."
"Rest. Reessssttttt," the spirit hissed out.
The sun of the park had been so hot, but with the ice cream there was a chill. Or maybe it was the shade from the umbrella above him. Then again it could have been the cool of the metal table. The wind blew through, tugging heat. There was another explanation of course. That he was cold, not because of the dream, but because of what was happening outside of it.
"Do you want more ice cream," the mother asked. "Children love ice cream billy. You can have all the ice cream."
"We can play together," the brown haired sister suggested. "Would you like to play, Billy? Children love to play!"
"Cheetah are fast Billy," the father offered. "We could go to their enclosure and you could see them. They're the fastest animal alive."
What would William do? We could keep letting himself get distracted by the pleasantness of the dream? Would he question them? Would he choose his own path? Or was the dark spirit that envied him going to take and take and take until he was only a husk of his former self and it was free. Free to ruin. To rip.
Little Billy seems to forget about what just happened, there's a still uneasy feeling clinging to his chest, but he no longer remembers, so it's fine, right? He stands up from the chair, having finished his ice cream, he had finished it, right? Yes he had. He stands up from the chair, ready to move on to the next thing, looking around to stop a huge map tucked to a side, covered in a protective glass layer, in which he catches his reflection. He looked fine, completely recovered, just a healthy eight year old at the zoo, except he was a bit pale... He was still pale, why was he pale? Little Billy was just the same skin tone as every other kid, and as his sister... But the reflection, there he was whiter, he was pale like... Pale like...
Like William. William had been that pale his whole life, always a bit more than even his family members. And that was only growing more true with each passing moment, laid on the couch, body now trembling to the cold flooding the room, skin losing a tad of color as the energy and his life are inadvertently syphoned out of him. But he seemed no closer to waking up, maybe a little twitch in his mouth or his brow, but was that a signal really?
Little Billy though, he's already forgotten that he's pale, he's looked all over the map to watch the animals he likes, and now walks back to his family, anouncing to everyone "We are going to go see the wolverines!" Do they have wolverines in the London Zoo? Apparently they do!
But right when he's leaving, Little Billy notices something, as his family stands up, his eyes linger on one member.
Little Eli, or well, not little anymore. Her sister was normal and had brown hair, that was all good, none of that green dye nightmare that made him pale. But something was odd. He looked closer at her, had she always been ten years older than him? It sounded right yet it was strange... But it was true, he thought, he was eight and she was eighteen, yes that bit was right. But it was odd, even as they start walking he keeps thinking, sneaking glances at her sister. She was tall, like his father, or well, almost. Brown long hair, a bit muscly, she even had a sizeable chest. He was much like other relatives of dad. Yet for some reason he expected to see something different. He was almost... Sad? That wasn't the word... Stranged? Put off? Why did he think his sister was short? Or weird? She was normal, she was just in front of him...
And of course, it was a dream. And so the came to him. There was a newspaper that was being read by one of the people near William. The top article was titled, "Missing Girl In Surrey." There was a picture there of a forest near William's home. Yet even as Little Billy looked at it, the Sister was stepping in front of it.
"No worries," the Sister said. "Rest. Rest."
It was getting colder. The clouds were probably the cause, weren't they? Sweeping in, dark and blocking out the sun. "Are you sure you want the wolverines Billy? We can play in the snow," the mother said, voice cooing. "It's going to start snowing, Billy. We can rest in the snow. Rest in peace, in the snow."
The Sister cooed as well, "The penguins like the snow. We can go to them, Billy. You like swimming right? How would you like to swim with the penguins? Doesn't that sound fun?"
"No worries, little Billy," the mother said.
"No worries," the father declared.
"No worries," the sister lilted out.
"No worries," the girl with nailed out eyes promised in a dark rasp. She was closer now. Two meters from the wall. Halfway to William.
But he had wanted the wolverines. And so to the Wolverines they were. A wolverine is a formidable creature, despite its relatively small stature. About the size of a medium dog, it stands on stocky legs with a robust, muscular body covered in dense, dark brown fur. This fur is thick and oily, well-suited to protect it from the cold and the elements of its typically northern, forested habitats. Running along its back are lighter, tawny stripes that stretch from shoulder to tail, giving it a distinct appearance.
Its head is broad, with small, rounded ears that barely peek out from its fur, and sharp, alert eyes that seem constantly aware of its surroundings. The wolverines face often appears masked, with lighter fur framing its muzzle and forehead, creating an almost sinister look. Its nose is black and leathery, paired with a mouth full of sharp teeth designed for tearing into flesh and cracking bones.
There were three such wolverines in the pen. There were name tags for the three different wolverines, posted on the window before their cage. "Rest," read the first name tag. "Your," read the second name tag. "Days," read the third name tag.
"Do you like the wolverines?" The sister asked.
"Do you want the penguins instead?" The mother asked.
"Regghghghghgh," the spirit hissed.
Little Billy seems taken aback by this, everyone is acting weird, so weird. And that newspaper, what was that about? Why is everyone repeating the same thing over and over, and asking him constantly. How did he even get here, he doesn't remember doing so from the dinning area to the wolverines pen. Everything was starting to be confusing and weird, and he didn't understand it.
He looked around the place, the zoo seemed to be lacking details, as if there were areas of reality that weren't... Meant to be look at, like he was looking at a flat plain color, just to a moment later be facing his family once more, which only scared him further. Even more as he looked at those twisted versions of them, taking in each one individually...
The father, always proud and confident, so tall and imposing, he could make anyone stop in their tracks with a well placed glare or a scolding remark, an extrovert, just like every single one of the four family members. But the father he was looking at, he had nothing to do with that, sitting on a sofa in the middle of the zoo, unclean, with a half assed shave, and a belly barely contained by his shirt. He was crying rivers, snot coming out of his nose and trailing down but he didn't seem to care, holding in his hand one piece of newspaper "Missing Girl in Surrey" he could read, Dad's other hand holding a couple pictures that Little Billy couldn't reach to look at.
To his side, his mother. Unlike Dad, the mother has shorter, as was the whole side of her family, with always polished looks, caring for things like makeup and haircare as well as adequated ettiquete. His mother was always the strongest at home, the one that made the decisions and lead the rest around, clearly the pack leader and the one to make the hard decisions. But when he looked at her, he did not see his mother, he did see Mom. A strict woman, unreasonable and overprotective, very severe, putting on a strong and menacing face, but then turning around and crying on her own. Mom was listing things Little Billy couldn't do, for his safety she was saying, yet he didn't understand half of it. She handed him a book, and that seemed to distract him, enough for him to turn his gaze towards the last person...
Eli, like he had been seeing her up until now, tall, busty, with long brown hair, talking about guys her age or going out with her friends, flashing smiles and reaching to pet him, it was conforting having a sister. Then she starts saying something that sounds vaguely familiar. "Did you know that the tooth fairy..." He shakes his head, he doesn't want to listen. No. He doesn't know why but he doesn't want. But he sees how her mouth keeps moving and speaking. How she becomes shorter. How her chest shrinks. How the boys turn to weird creatures and the friends to jars with liquids of several consistencies. How her hair turns green little by little "... it is a way to engrave into..." He isn't listening, yet somehow he knows what she's saying and it is paining him, beyond measure. "Don't" He says, but she doesn't listen. She keeps going. This isn't for him, this is for William, why was he pestering him?. Wait, who was it for? Surely not for him, but for whom then?
Dreams. They can be confusing. But there was a more grounded place if only William could get back to it. The waking world. The world of the living, though, in that moment, invaded by the dead.
The wind was whining among the thorns of Rose Lane. It tugged at branches, setting them to groaning. Groaning, not unlike William's groans, as he grew subtly weaker. The windows of the trailer had become frosted and icy. The malevolent spirit was more than halfway to the helplessly comatose William. The brown haired young man had been through a lot in the last week. Between drownings and stabbings and false accusation it was no wonder that a dream in which things were so much closer to a false ideal would be hard for him to resist.
Strength was being sapped from him. Life force, leaking bit by bit, as the malevolent and envious spirit grew closer. The spirit envied William for a thing that he did not have. It was envious, because it saw family. Yet William and his family were not close in the way a happy family would be. So as the spirit projected a fantasy for William, it wasn't just the fantasy that the spirit wanted. It was the fantasy that William had wanted: one in which his family life was normal rather than cursed by misfortune.
Which was why there were little breaks and cracks in the fantasy. William could not remember having ever been to the zoo with his family - he had wanted to go, but somehow it had never happened, at least, so far as he could recall.
There were other clues as well. His sister wasn't the right age. The weather wasn't behaving properly, changing too fast, because it was reflecting the temperature back in the bedroom. People also didn't tend to be so obliging to children. Then there was the strange way that things seemed to be repeating themselves, the same words and concepts coming up again and again and again.
"Hakuna Matata. It means no worries, for the rest of your days. A problem free, philosophy," the sister so unlike his sister sang.
There was a reason that there might be no worries. A horrible reason. Wouldn't it be just like his sister to try and keep his life exciting? Yet admitting that would be rejecting the dream. Because if that place distantly remembered was real, then the ice cream he could enjoy, the wolverines he could see, the happiness that was his to join into if only he just surrendered to it and let the dream take him on its course. It would be fake. It would be false.
Would William try to resist the dream? Would he try to wake? With how long it had gone on and this growing weakness, could he wake?
Little Billy looks horrified at what was happening in front of him, the vision of his so loved relatives being so spoiled, so corrupted beyong measure into such a sad reality... So why was he so familiar with them? Why was he seemed them so clearly? Why were the visions of his mom, dad and sister come back even when he knew they couldn't be like that? Dad was happy and proud, no way he'd ever be like that... And mom was cheerful and a natural leader, not some security guard handing him books to distract him... And his sister, his sister had him the most confused, he couldn't even tell how should she be... Was she his age? Or older? Was we normal? Did she have brown hair? Was she short or tall? Did she have muscle or was she scrawny?
He had so many questions regarding her, yet when right before him, his sister seemed to stabilize as Eli, he saw something clear "You... You're not tall... You're not strong. You don't talk about boys and- You... You're just like M-"
Wait, he had heard that before. No, he had said that before... But where? Where did he tell her that?
He looks around as if to find some clue, but he sees nothing useful, he kicks around as he tries to ignore the sentences coming from what seems a lobotomized version of his relatives designed to torture him, he was unstable. And he couldn't find any clues, fucking Boston Zoo, nothing useful here.
Wait, did he just swear? Or more importantly Boston? No, this was London... London Zoo... No, he had said that sentence in Boston. Someone had said it. And that's when it dawns on him. He is not Little Billy. He is William. William said that line to Elora, not Eli or Little Eli, in Haven, Boston. And now he repeats it, realizing his mistake, not yet his situation but starting to realize all of the little things his dream had been trying to cover up, to wash up and shove down his throat. Not yet awake, but now definitely struggling in his slumber, the dreaming William says to Elora once more "You're just like Mom"
The zoo around William shimmered like a mirage, as if the fabric of the dream itself was growing thin. The bright sunshine flickered, casting shifting shadows that seemed too long, too dark, for a clear day. The warm air from the lion's enclosure became faintly oppressive, like the stillness before a storm. His sister's voice, once so cheery, now sounded hollow, echoing as if from far away.
Billy, she insistently. Were safe, remember? Safe. No worries.
But the cracks in the dream were becoming harder to ignore. The wolverines sharp eyes seemed to follow him, their unblinking stare more predatory than before. The shadows under the benches, where families ate ice cream and laughed, twisted unnaturally. And then, William noticed the penguin enclosure across the path the water was frozen over, thick with ice where the penguins should have been swimming. The entire zoo seemed to warp, a creeping cold spreading outward from him, distorting the dreamscape into something more sinister.
A surrendered mind would still have things it could cling to. The ice cream, the lions, the peaceful day at the zoo his family together, happy. It was everything he'd wanted. But there were too many wrong details, too many cracks in the perfect facade. His father, who had never stood so tall. His mother, who had never smiled so warmly. His sister, normal. His real sister wasn't.
And then the voice came again, slithering from the edges of his consciousness.
No worrieesssss... it hissed, sickly sweet, like a lullaby meant to keep him asleep. For the resssst of your dayssss...
The darkness in the trailer living room thickened. The malevolence was closer still. The temperature around William dropped to freezing, his breath fogging in front of him even within the dream. His limbs felt leaden, his strength being sapped away piece by piece.
In the dream, his sister reached for him, her hand too pale, too cold. Come on, Billy. Lets play some more. We can stay here forever, where nothing bad happens. Just us, together. She smiled, but it didnt reach her eyes.
The wolverines prowled closer, their dark eyes reflecting something of the nailed-out-eyes of the envious spirit which was attacking William. Their name tags "Rest," "Your," "Days" shone ominously under the dream's flickering unlight.
Was he going to let it happen? Let the spirit take him, drain him until he was just a hollow shell? Or could he wake himself up, return to the reality that awaited himthe reality of the trailer, the ritual, the bound spirit that was so dangerously close?
He could feel it now, almost touching him, its malevolent hunger gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. His body trembled under the weight of its envious gaze.
A cold wind swept through the dream zoo, carrying with it the distant sound of something crackinglike ice breaking, or the bindings fraying just a little more. The wolverines paced. His sister, the mockery of his sister, was still smiling, too wide, her hand outstretched. "No worries, Billy," she whispered, her voice now a rasp. "No worrriesss... forever."
The real world tugged at him, icy and painful. Would he try to fight the dream, claw his way back to consciousness before it was too late? Or would he stay, lulled into submission by the sweet, poisonous dream of a life that was never his?
William remained unmoving for a moment, watching everything warp and change around him, turning into wrong versions of themselves twisting in horrid and painful to watch forms. His whole body aching, he was cold, he hadn't noticed until now, but he didn't even notice he was himself until now.
No. His head refuses all of this. It looked more comfortable, more idyllic, surely this was a life he had previously dreamt with. But now he knew it wasn't his. It was all coming back. Piece by painful piece, forced to relive the trauma of his past, and the sad life of his family. He runs away from the illusion, leaving behind all of the copy cats.
He doesn't even turn to fight them, no. He has nothing to do with them. They are not a part of his life. Not anymore. Not ever before or again. He runs and runs, until he thinks he can no longer, and then he pushes forward a bit more, just to get away from that horrible nightmare.
And when he opens his eyes, he is once again in Haven, Boston. Lazily looking up at the ceiling of some trailer, huh, he must be laying on the couch then, he assumes. Just a horrible nightmare. And a second later he notices the spirit that was trapped almost touching him, approaching in his periphery and making him hurt the closer it gets. His whole body aching and in pain.
The cold sweat in which he would have awoken turning out be actually cold sweat on his forehead, so cold that it had been frozen. And this same temperature was keeping his limbs from moving as he wanted. He wanted to jump, or to run away, to kick away from the spirit. But he couldn't. His attempts made him to fall to the floor with a noisy thud, that hurts way more than it sure given his ironically fitting ice cream condition, and with the impossibility of standing back up on his own, he begins to crawl away, little by little dragging around his almost unmoving limbs, just like a worm trying to escape its predator.
The dream had fractured, the idyllic scenes of the zoo shattering like glass. The warmth of the sunlit paths gave way to an all-consuming cold that seeped into his very bones. His eyelids fluttered open, and he found himself back in the dim confines of the trailer's living room. The transition from dream to reality was jarring.
The air was frigid, each breath producing a faint cloud of vapor that lingered before dissolving into the darkness. Frost clung to the windows, intricate patterns spreading like spiderwebs across the glass. The only light came from a distant streetlamp outside, casting elongated shadows that danced ominously along the walls.
Then he saw it.
Pet.
The malevolent spirit loomed mere feet away, its form more distinct and horrifying than before. Wrapped in tattered gray grave cloth, the apparition of the girl stood with a posture both rigid and unnatural. Her eyes or the voids where her eyes should have been were sunken and dark, as if nails had been driven deep into them, leaving only shadowy hollows that seemed to absorb all light.
Her mouth twisted into a grotesque semblance of a smile, revealing teeth stained and jagged, partially obscured by the translucent shroud that covered her face. Wisps of matted hair escaped from beneath the cloth, framing a visage of pure malice. She reached out with skeletal hands, fingers elongated into claw-like talons that grasped at the air between them.
"Reeessst... Reeessst..." the spirit rasped, her voice a chilling whisper that reverberated in the silent room. Each syllable dripped with venom and an insatiable hunger.
William's body felt heavy, as though an unseen force was pressing down upon him. His limbs were numb from the cold, and a profound exhaustion weighed on his mind. It had taken him so long to escape, to wake, to follow the clues, and now that he was back in the waking world he could feel the consequence of that.
Outside, the wind howled through the thorns of Rose Lane, branches scratching against the trailer's exterior like nails on a chalkboard.
William had fallen back at this, falling from the couch. Scrabbling backward. Feeling his cold sweat like ice on him. He was awake now. The creature's feeding stopped.
The spirit glared at him. Impotent malevolent rage coloring its ghastly features. William was awake. Its feeding stopped. Its escape, stopped. And without the extra energy it had been gaining from his life force it couldn't push back against the binding any longer. It went still, again. Bound once more.
William keeps on crawling away from the creature, that thing that his sister had called Pet and insisted on keeping on the living room, against every single one of his warnings or requests. He drags himself in the direction of the bathroom, only then noticing the spirit is no longer on his trail. His job doesn't get any easier though.
His body was still heavy and tired, his limbs half frozen and he didn't even have the mind to give a shout to Elora, who is sleeping with some other gal in the bedroom. Even as he reminded himself of that, he didn't even feel the ability to be annoyed about it until a solid half an hour later.
By that time, having already reached the bathroom, and being at least a bit more capable of moving around, he decides to stay in there, he'll sleep in the bathtub if necessary or- Well, as his gaze looks to the window he can see the sunset rising, nearly seven in the morning, great, no more sleeping...
With that, he sighs, some bits of frost still clinging to his body, gathering his whole strength, the blood rushing towards his face. He was mad he had to give up the bed, and at having been exposed to a near death situation, again, because she wanted to play around with some girl. From now on, that bed was his, and 'Pet' was never sleeping close to him ever again. With his breath taken and stregth gathered, he lets out the loudest scream he can possibly let out, straight against the door that connects the bathroom and the bedroom "Elora!"