Lost In Dreamland: Whitney Powers Paranormal Adventure #3 (Whitney Powers Paranormal Adventures)

by Jason Paul Rice

  She raced over to the phone and a note had been placed under it. The note said, “If you ever want to see your precious lover again, you will answer that phone when it rings and you will do exactly as I say. Failure to do so will result in the instant death of Trent Merrick. You hold his life in your hands now.”

  Whitney staggered around the hotel room as rage filled her heart. She looked under the blankets on the bed and in the closets in a vain attempt to find her husband. She couldn’t believe that her honeymoon had been ripped apart like this.

  Who would want to kidnap Trent? Could it be the politicians we just busted? This doesn’t make any sense.

  She screamed out the open window, “How could you let this happen? Darominius? Richard? I thought you were protecting me from this. How could you let them take my husband?”

  She languished, pacing around the room for another half-hour until the phone rang.

  She answered the call. “Hello.”

  “Aaww, what’s the matter? You sound sad, little girl. Whatever could make you sad?” a man’s voice asked and let out a hearty laugh.

  “What do you want?”

  He said, “What do I want? She asks a silly question. I want to see you squirm. I want you to see what it’s like from the criminal’s side. We constantly worry about getting arrested for our wrongdoings. Now you get to worry endlessly about something. Will you get him killed?”

  “What do I have to do to get him back?” Whitney tried to sit down on the couch and popped right back up and went back to nervously walking around the room.

  The man talked like an angst filled teen with a deep voice who had consumed too much caffeine. It seemed like he was trying to sound scary, but just came across as frantic and creepy. “You must be patient. Ha, that should be easy. Your husband would love to talk to you right now but he is hanging out with the Dream Kid at the moment. As for you. We’re going to find out if you’re afraid of ghosts.”

  “Great. I’m not afraid of ghosts.” Whitney looked out the open window at the palm trees below.

  He said, “We will see about that. Tonight, you will attend the Harvest Ceremony on Rua Crupa Canal. This will be your first test of fear. Should be an easy one. Best of luck, little girl.”

  The man hung up and Whitney didn’t know how to react. This person could have been located right down the street or half way across the world. The helplessness was driving her crazy. She spent most of the day trying to stay still on the couch, only to get up and walk around the room.

  She considered alerting the authorities, but the police in this country had a corrupt reputation. She didn’t know where to turn. Her friends at the Bureau wouldn’t be able to do anything. The dream vacation had quickly turned into a nightmare.

  The sun started to set and Whitney went outside into the twilight to go to the Harvest Ceremony. She rode a packed bus with clucking chickens and an ornery hairy hog. It only took fifteen minutes to get to Rua Crupa Canal, which was fifteen minutes too long.

  She got off and the phone started to ring. Whitney answered it.

  “Yes.”

  The man’s voice said, “What? No hello this time? How rude. Stand on the curb and face the Venconi Hotel across the street.”

  Whitney followed his instructions and squared her shoulders to face the mustard yellow hotel with fluorescent red writing.

  He continued, “You need to know that you are being watched and if you slip up, it won’t just be your precious lover who gets dealt with. Look down at your chest.”

  A red beam over her heart moved down to her belly and back up to the left side of her chest.

  The man said, “That isn’t a laser pointer aimed at you. We have you under watch. You are now here for our amusement. You are merely a puppet on a string. There is a white church on the end of this road. Turn right and walk for twenty minutes. You will know you are close when you fear for your life.”

  The man laughed and hung up the phone. Whitney walked in the direction he had told her to. The buildings began to get smaller and more rundown as she continued. Homeless people slept on the sides of the dirt road. A few men were sharpening knives and a toothless woman drank out of a big bottle of liquor. She released a deep belch that would have rivaled Booger’s famous burp from Revenge of the Nerds.

  Gunshots erupted from behind her and caused everyone to scatter. Whitney didn’t know where to run. She took off for the end of the street and ducked into the white church.

  A group of islanders with their faces painted in black and white stared at the new visitor. She thought they might assault her until two men faces contorted to expose wide grins. The men came over with their palms up. Whitney reached out her hands and each man grabbed one. They led her over to a woman with paint.

  The tall, topless woman wearing a brown grass skirt streaked the black ink under Whitney’s eyes and covered her nose with white. Whitney almost sneezed as the woman applied the white ink to the bottom of her nose.

  Pounding drums caused the people to start chanting and dancing around the candlelit room. Whitney had never heard of this religion, but they seemed like an accepting bunch.

  A small bull entered the room through a side door. A short stocky man followed the animal and struggled to carry several swords. Whitney didn’t speak the language so she was clueless about the ceremony. She danced around the room and followed the other parishioners’ actions.

  The music stopped. A tall, shirtless man with a huge belly talked over everyone.

  He said, “Mumbasse eriv deko tublo mal tel faso.”

  The young women in the group walked up front to the man who appeared to be the priest or leader. An old, wrinkled woman carried around a smoking incense can on a rope, waving it from side to side. The strong scent of burning cloves and mint filled the air.

  A firm palm hit Whitney in the middle of her back, pushing her toward the front. She stood next to several young women and wondered what was going on.

  The crowd of about eighty people started to murmur and someone tapped her on the arm. A young man held out a copper cup which Whitney accepted. A frothy white top couldn’t hide a dark green liquid that looked like a disgusting alien cappuccino. The aroma of cilantro and garlic grew stronger as she swirled it around.

  The priest spoke again, “Eter nattte comun taber sum nit wee. Retlei obo tone heek stane guud. Eter nobive ganna.”

  All the girls drank the liquid and Whitney decided to follow suit. She gagged and almost spit out the disgusting drink before she could swallow it. The flavor of unseasoned beets mixed with dirt and gasoline covered her tongue and wouldn’t go away. Her mouth and jowl pulsed after drinking it and she had to concentrate not to throw up as a battle raged in her belly.

  Her entire body began to overheat and vibrate. The urge to pass out attacked her head as sweat immediately glossed over her entire body. They led the younger women and a dizzy Whitney down a flight of steps and into a room that made a ripe porta-potty covered in hot trash smell like a garden of roses.

  She held her stomach and concentrated. Whitney’s vision was distorted and she looked around the wooden room, which had dark stains on the walls and floor.

  The room started to spin. Fluorescent rainbows twisting and tying themselves together in pretty knots filled her vision. She reached out and tried to touch the colors, but her fingers only tingled in the clear air. Her memories became like slow stop motion. A series of fluttering photographs.

  The awful sounds of an animal suffering rang out from above. A wave of warm liquid came rushing down on top of her head and covered her entire body. She kept rubbing it out of her eyes, but the salty liquid flowed back in. The room had run red but it simply blended in with all the colorful visions she had been seeing.

  Whitney’s breathing became very erratic and she lay down on the moist floor. She closed her eyes and tried to get rid of the troubling images. She curled into a ball in the corner of the room.

  A ringing phone woke Whitney up. She sat up and shook he
r head. She was on the side of the street near the church. A homeless man next to her pointed to her pocket. She reached in and grabbed the phone.

  “Hello.”

  The kidnapper’s voice said, “That’s more cordial. Much better. I hope you enjoyed your night.”

  “I don’t even know what happened. I remember drinking some nasty liquid and it was pretty much lights out from there.”

  He said, “That’s a shame, but that is what happens when you take peyote.”

  “Peyote? You made me do drugs?”

  The man replied, “I didn’t make you do anything. You can walk away any time you want. Best of luck that one of those red laser beams won’t catch up to you. And here I would have thought you would have been more upset about the shower of bull’s blood that you endured.”

  “I didn’t take a shower in bull’s blood. I would see it on my body.”

  He said, “Really? It rained pretty heavily last night and that might have washed most of it away.”

  Whitney inspected her fingernails and hair and wasn’t pleased to realize he was probably right.

  “What kind of sick pleasure are you getting out of doing this to me?” She got up and started to move down the street.

  The man said, “The best kind of pleasure. Like I said, I finally have Johnny Law in the palm of my hands and I’m sorry, but I’m feeling quite vindictive. You have fun putting men like me behind bars. I’m working just as hard as you are. Who are these Gods that decide what is right and wrong? Just because I don’t make my money in the accepted manner of everyone else, that makes me evil.”

  “It’s not a hard system. There are certain things you can and can’t do.”

  He said, “My point is, why? Why can’t I take something from someone who really doesn’t need it? And you are hardly in any position to be lecturing me.”

  “Alright, I played your stupid little game. Now give me my husband back.” She stopped at an intersection as a honking cab sped down the street.

  The man laughed. “Oh no, we are just getting started. Watching you stumble around that church, covered in bull’s blood and eating raw lamb testicles was too good for only a one-time performance. I have many more plans to terrorize you and we haven’t even started with the ghosts yet.”

  She fought off the urge to throw up. “So what am I supposed to do, hang around this island while you make me do things for your sick, sadistic pleasure?”

  The man said, “Pretty much, except for one thing. You are going to come back to Adoxia before I terrorize you some more. You tell the authorities about this, he’s dead. This better stay quiet or you’ll never see your pretty boy again. Go to the house you rented in the Capitol and wait for our next date. I do hope you wear something pretty.”

  2

  Whitney pulled into her driveway and wanted to run over the man waiting in front of her house.

  She jumped out of the car and started yelling. “How could you let this happen? You were supposed to be protecting us. You let someone kidnap him?”

  Darominius stood up and held his arms out to hug Whitney. She thrashed at his chest with her fists and screamed incomprehensible words at him. Darominius took the abuse and waited for Whitney to tire out. Breathing heavy, she finally gave up and the shifter gently wrapped one arm around her and patted her back.

  She buried her tear-soaked face into his solid chest covered by a white smiley face T-Shirt. “Why didn’t you stop this from happening?”

  Darominius ran his golden fingers through her hair. “We can’t stop something if we don’t know about it.”

  “That’s bogus. You said that you can see great things in my future. The ghosts, they said the same.”

  The dragon shifter said, “Setbacks are a part of life. If we focus on how to rescue Trent instead of figuring out who to blame, I think that would be best.”

  He’s right. It doesn’t matter whose fault it is anyway. I need to focus and get my man back.

  “Alright then, what do you suggest we do?” Whitney stepped back and wiped her flushed face.

  Whitney and Darominius went inside and she started to immediately miss Trent as she caught a whiff of his cologne when entering the bedroom. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  Darominius ducked to get under the door frame to get into the kitchen. “Yes, well, there aren’t many responses that would contain the truth and serve to make you feel better. There are times when a helper like me can be rendered helpless. In the past, I’ve known when to help you, but this caught us all unawares. I can help you in this venture, but it will be limited. That is, unless the ghosts and I can figure out more information than we already have.”

  The phone rang. Whitney initially pulled out her private phone before reaching into her other pocket for the kidnapper’s phone.

  She answered. “Hello.”

  “Pack your bags. I’ve figured out the perfect way to torture you. I’ve made a game out of you trying to rescue your husband. It will give me great pleasure and enough time to take care of the crimes I need to commit. Now, I know you say you like ghosts. Anyway, we’ll see how much you really like ghosts. You’re going to Dankstone.” The deep voice of the kidnapper sounded like he had drunk too many cups of coffee again.

  “I’m not scared. I want to talk to my husband before I do anything ridiculous.” She grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and handed one to her friend.

  The man said, “He can’t really talk right now. He’s still playing in dream land. You’ll understand much more about that soon. That is, if you pass the first few tests.”

  “I’m not scared of your tests either.” She extended her bottle toward Darominius and motioned for him to open it for her.

  The voice said, “So I’ve heard. I will be the judge and jury on that. I leave the executioner part for someone else to enjoy. Even the biggest ghost hunters in all of Adoxia have been driven out of Dankstone.” He giggled, almost snorting. “I’ve been there several times and the ghosts of the witches seem to like me. We’ll see how long you can last.”

  “I think I’ll be just fine.” She took a big swig of the water and wiped her mouth with the gray short sleeve covering her upper arm.

  The voice said, “You can go home and get two of your friends or family to join you on this adventure. Their lives will be in the same danger as you and that includes the tall guy with jaundice that you’ve been hanging around with. Just a warning. He looks like a real weirdo. Get two people and then set your GPS to Dankstone. If there even is a setting on the map for that place.” He let out another sniffling giggle.

  “I still don’t know why you are doing this?” She sat down on the couch and Darominius plopped down next to her.

  The voice spoke slower and his sharp words carried a malicious tone. “Have you ever had your father slap you across the face? How about beating your mother to a pulp? You don’t have to answer because I know the honorable Robert Powers would never do such a thing.”

  Her blood immediately boiled. “Alright listen, you leave my family out of this, you scum bag. How low can you sink?”

  The man said, “I’ve tried to clearly establish that nothing is off the table with me. I’ll tell you more of my story if you are worthy. I’ve got a feeling this guy I’m looking at is going to die soon because of you and then I’m going to lose that phone number forever.”

  “You’ve got some severe problems.” She kicked her feet up on the black coffee table.

  The man laughed. “I’ve got three mansions in Adoxia alone. I have more money that I know what to do with. I walk free with little worry of getting caught for my crimes. You, on the other hand, are at my mercy. A slave to my words. A stringed puppet, waiting to be plucked. Who has the severe problems in that scenario, dearie? Get to Dankstone soon or the next call is going to come from the morgue.”

  The man hung up and Whitney did the same. She put the phone back in her pocket and headed for her room to pack.

  Darominius said, “Jaundice
? Let me get my hands on this guy. So what is this person demanding now?”

  “He wants me to go to some town in the northeast now. He said I can take two people with me, and you, if you want to come.” She didn’t want to say the name of the haunted town.

  The golden dragon shifter said, “I normally wouldn’t join any human for an extended period of time.”

  “You owe me, buster, you were supposed to be looking out for me.” She pulled a duffle bag out of the closet.

  Darominius cocked his head to the side and grinned. His smile was extremely awkward and appeared more like a confused, goofy look. “I was just about to say that. In fact, I can drive if you would like. This could allow your mind to tend to other matters. I like driving vehicles too.”

  Whitney stuffed another pair of jeans into the dark green bag and tried to unsuccessfully zip it up. She kneeled on the clothes poking out of the opening. She jumped up and down a few times and it worked like a charm as she easily pulled the zipper closed. Whitney reached into her pocket and grabbed her buzzing phone.

  She swiped and tapped her phone and stared at the screen. “Wow. That was fast. Bo and Tara both agreed to come if it wouldn’t take that long. I really hope this won’t take long. I don’t know how much of this stuff I can handle. I’ll text them to both go to Bo’s and we can pick them up there and go to that town.”

  They arrived at Bo’s house and Whitney introduced Bo and Tara to Darominius. Her two friends put some overnight bags in the trunk before jumping in the backseat. The quaternion got on the road and headed northeast. A sense of security washed over her having her friends by her side.

  Bo asked, “So where do you have to go? And what exactly is going on?”

  “Don’t freak out, either of you. Trent’s been kidnapped.” Whitney closed her eyes.

  Bo gasped. “Are you effing serious?”

  Tara silently tried to pick up her jaw.

  She turned around and stuck her head in between both seats. “Yes, unfortunately. Some sicko kidnapped him on our honeymoon and now we have to go to Dankstone to get him back.”