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Chapter 3: Dreams Can Take a Toll on You

After that night under the trees Moggy O’Brien’s sleep had been plagued with odd dreams, not always nightmares, but bizarre and foreboding nevertheless. He kept going though, farming, studying and keeping the tower in working order. He sipped a coffee one bright morning after a dream about being carried away by a giant bird. It did occur to him that he hadn’t seen any winged creatures on this planet yet and he had to wonder if birds even existed here. With the hills it seemed prime choice for evolution to give flight to the denizens of this world. He didn’t dwell on it too long, thinking about the dreams made him a bit too uneasy and he didn’t want to give his anxious tendencies an excuse to play up. Loneliness was already a tough thing to bear, thinking too long about the meaning of dreams could make his stay here all the more difficult.

He had a few turnips to dig up today - easy enough work. He figured it was better digging them up by hand, last time he used magic to pluck vegetables from the ground they turned sour. He had taken on a few more animals, not that he was going to eat them or anything, more as something to keep him busy. He fed them and let them out for a run. Thinking back to the birds, one of the creatures he had taken on did lay eggs, but it was closer to a ferret than a chicken. At least three feet in length with several pairs of legs along its body, it laid at least one slightly square egg each morning. Moggy wasn’t sure if he should eat them, but he had long passed caring and liked finding new ways to cook them every day. He tried poaching one today. He even managed a perfect runny yolk for once. He placed it carefully on a piece of toast and enjoyed it alongside some beans he’d grown. Beans always collect up magic, no matter how much you try to avoid it. Incidentally, magic makes beans taste even better, so the meal was lovely.

From the corner of his eye Moggy caught sight of his notebook; he’d been keeping a rough diary since arriving here. Since the dreams had started he’d avoided reading past entries, he’d just scribble down the dreams quickly and move on, allowing him to forget. Something was pulling him in, luring him into grabbing his notebook and reliving some of these bizarre dreams. He levitated it over to him whilst chewing on moreish beans. Flicking through the pages he went back a couple weeks and started to read. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, a pattern or something that linked them maybe. One dream involved his mother and father, arguing over the cost of ice lollies at the beach, before a skeleton walked up out of the sea and slapped Moggy O’Brien’s dad and said some gibberish about captive markets affecting the cost of frozen treats at the beach before staring at Moggy with piercing eyes. Another involved Moggy driving alone late at night, seeing glowing eyes in the woods before crashing into a tree. He remembered the pain so vividly, his bones snapping and the blood pouring from his mouth. Before he woke up, a figure stood over him with a grin, a great sense of evil radiated from the figure. He gulped a few times, the tension building as the dreams came washing back into his mind. A few dreams involved being stuck in liminal spaces, an endless maze of tatami mats in wooden halls, abandoned shopping centres, train stations where the trains never arrive, many variations of inescapable places all with the feeling that something was coming for him. “Yeah, the dreams were weird, but dreams always are, aren’t they?”. He shivered despite the bright sunlight filling his room “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before…” But, the unease wouldn’t leave him, it felt different somehow, yet he couldn’t put his paw on what, other than the dark occurrences in his dreams being far more numerous than he had ever had back home. Maybe it was the loneliness, he hadn’t seen another person in over two months. He took a deep breath and closed the notebook before finishing off his now cold breakfast.

By the late afternoon, exhausted, but satisfied with his impressive turnip haul, Moggy decided to treat himself to a bath. In the tower's basement was a large onsen, with steamy hot water brought up from a natural hot spring. After washing himself thoroughly under the shower he eased himself into the hot water. It took him a few tries - cats love it once they settle but there was something about the initial act of getting into water that spooked them. The tension in his body washed away and he began to purr. He closed his eyes and fully immersed himself in the relaxing water, forgetting about the dreams and his loneliness. And then there were footsteps. creak. creak. creak. Something was coming down the stairs! The dread rose steadily throughout his body, chilling the calming warmth of the waters. The footsteps got louder and closer. Suddenly, the door creaked open and whatever it was, entered. It’s footsteps slapping on the wet floor. Fear gripped Moggy O’Brien, his hair standing on edge even though he was soaking wet. He tried to swim away, but couldn’t make his body move, he was stuck in place – back to the door. The entity came closer, standing behind him, its shadow stretching over Moggy and across the water, flickering in the dim light. It stood there for what seemed like forever, frightening Moggy deep in his being and making him beg to see his family again, before receding. He blinked. Had it gone? He looked around, but there was nothing there. He let out a nervous laugh. I knew I shouldn’t’ve re-read those dream entries! Either that or I really shouldn’t be eating those ferret eggs. He breathed a sigh of relief before closing his eyes and sinking down into the warmth, letting the waters wash away his shock. After a few seconds, he went to resurface again, but suddenly a huge talon shot through the water and wrapped itself around his throat, choking him, and pinning him under the water. He struggled, but couldn’t get away. The water rushed into his lungs, his panic at maximum. Just as he felt weak and the life left his body, a rush of energy surged through him, he woke up and struggled out of the bath, coughing up water. There was nothing else there with him. Had it been another dream? He ran upstairs, still naked and dripping wet to check the door was locked. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep again that night. A sentiment only confirmed when three loud knocks rattled against the door to the tower.

First published in webzine, Autumn's Odyssey!

Cheers to Rambles for proofreading/editing