Abby's Darkness (A Short Story)
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Darkness
D.L. Gabriel
Copyright 2016 by D.L. Gabriel
Published by Pen’s Delight Publishing
www.pensdelight.com
Cover design by Daniela Llanos
www.dllanosartist.wordpress.com
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
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ISBN: 9781311933935
To my family
Abby’s Darkness (A Dream Chamber Short Story)
Demons come in different forms. Mine looked like a swarm of bats, beating into my mind like a screeching wave from Hell. As a child, I had nightmares about those bats, night after night, forcing their way into my head. I always woke up screaming.
Those dreams stopped, sometime around my seventh birthday. As I grew older, the memory of my demons faded like shadows dissolving into the morning sunlight.
In my seventeenth year, my parents sent me to RAE Academy to fulfil their goal of having a daughter in the Futures Mission. The RAE (Reclutamiento Agencia Espacial), or Space Agency Recruitment, was the training ground for the AEM (Agencia Espacial Mundial), the World Space Agency. There were no guarantees, but getting into the Academy was a huge first step.
“You’ll love it, Abby!” my mother said, fluffing my hair. I patted at it briefly, groaning when it popped back into place. Even my hair listened to mom. The usual furrow between her brows did nothing to dim the bright-eyed look she gave me. Despite my apprehension about being sent away part of me wanted to smile. My mom was proud of me.
“I dunno…” I said, picking at my elbow. It took all my effort not to rip off the scab that had formed over the spots where previous anxiety had left a mark.
“Stop that,” said mom, swatting my hand away from its comfort spot. I sighed and let my hand drop as tension washed over me.
The Argentine sun glistened on the damp concrete path as I took my first step into uncertainty. The waiting taxi hovered, daring me to turn away, to flee to the safety of my childhood dwelling. The door hissed its mockery as it eased shut, and I coughed to clear the heaviness that settled on my chest.
"El Reclu-" I started.
"Reclutamiento, si," interrupted the driver, smiling at me in the mirror.
I turned away, forcing a half smile. I had eleven hours of this stranger's company to look forward to.
My mother's grin glowed at me through the hover-taxi’s window. She had had one brief cry the night before. The Futures Mission was a permanent goodbye. If I made it, I’d be on a ship going close to the speed of light. By the time we stop, thousands of years would have passed on earth. I’d see the future but my family would be gone. It was prestige at a price.
The academy was my parents’ dream, not mine. My dreams were filled with shadows too dark to decipher.
“You can have some Suenato,” said the driver. “We have a long journey ahead.”
“No!” I snapped.
He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“No gracias,” I said. “No sleep aid for me.” Especially the kind that took you places…
The journey was a blur. Fields of maize and wheat lined the road, stretches of green serenity contrasting with my internal mayhem.
The hover-car driver barely managed an adios before I grabbed my baggage and raced past the mulling students along the white staircase at the main dormitory’s entrance. Room 612 was all mine, a sanctuary, and I fumbled through the crowded hallways, trying hard to ignore the hopeful, light-hearted blather filling the air.
I collapsed into my bunk and stared at the leaves stirring outside the window, wishing for life to be carefree again. Thirty-six hours had passed since I slept and the tree seemed to taunt me with its peaceful revelry. I closed my eyes and for the first time in years, I dreamed.
I’m standing in a darkened room, surrounded by boxes and old furniture. Everything is blurry, fading to a mute brown when I look at it. Except for one thing.
An armoire sits at the far end of the room, and despite the fifteen feet distance, I can see my reflection clearly. Muslin curtains rustle to my right, the only movement in the room. It feels like twilight, and I worry that the day has passed without my knowledge.
Frozen, I stare at my reflection. I am wearing a white linen gown, something out of history. My hair is loose and flowing, almost to my waist. This feels familiar and I walk towards the armoire. The curtains cease their whispering motions as my bare feet pad across the wooden floor.
Pitter patter.
The armoire retreats as I walk towards it, matching movements with my every step.
“Stop,” a voice whispers.
I jump and try to turn towards the murmur. My head feels stiff and remains fixed on the armoire. I suddenly notice the erratic thumping of my heart filling the room.
I’ve been here before.
“No!” I try to scream, but the sound sticks in my throat.
My reflection in the armoire mirror ripples and disappears. Then the armoire shatters into a million bats. My silent scream is overpowered by the flapping of their dark wings as they seek me out. I turn to run but something tightens around my ankles.
The roar of the bats grows louder and louder. I can do nothing but watch as they descend upon me, feeding my terror, my helplessness.
The demons are back.
“I’ll protect you,” whispers the voice. This time, I can see him. A man standing next to me, a towering figure. He smiles and my terror wavers. The din of the bats fades as the man moves to shield me from the descending blackness. He turns his back to the bats and their shrieks surround us. Panic surges in me but subsides when I look up into his eyes. They are turquoise, their depths moving like ocean currents. His warm hands on my icy cheeks fill me with calm as the room disappears around us, taking its demons with it.
“You’re safe now,” he says, before he fades into the morning light.
I stared at the ceiling for what felt like an hour before getting out of bed the next day. Enough time for my cold sweat to dry and my thoughts to slow down. My nightmare was back, but with a different ending. I had always thought there was something too real about the bats to be simply a dream. Now, I felt that there was someone real who could keep them away.
“Rubbish,” I muttered, throwing back the covers. Nevertheless, warmth filled me that had never been there. Despite the ridiculousness of it all, I held onto that warmth as I prepared for my first day of training.
For a week, I endured what would normally be considered torture. On day one, I spent two hours underwater in a suit. No potty breaks, either. By day three, it was five hours straight. In between that time, I was subjected to test after test, challenge after challenge. The mind trials were the most painful, like migraines being planted into my brain day after day. I never remembered any of it, besides the throbbing pain.
Despite this, the worst part of it all was the loneliness. Despite being in groups of ten or more, no one said a word to anyone else. We were, at best, competitors. More accurately, we were enemies. My first night’s dream saviour had not reappeared, nor had my nightmare. For the latter, I was grateful. By day seven, exhaustion and despair had overwhelmed me and I
fell into bed, sobbing. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep.
Leaves are rustling around me. Ahead of me, a forest stretches into a shroud of fog and darkened bark. My feet crunch twigs and dead leaves as I move through the tangle of trees. I see a clearing and light in the distance.
A farmhouse, I think.
Then I hear it. The distant beating of wings. At first, the sound seems to come from miles away. A few wings. I turn to face the pale moon and freeze as a cloud passes across it. A cloud moving like a thousand thrashing wings on a mission.
This time, the terror pushes me as I turn and run through the trees, stumbling to find a path and shelter. The beating wings grow closer and a swirl of panic surrounds me, tightening its grip until I can barely breathe.
“Run, Abby,” says a voice next to me.
Immediately, I hear footsteps. I turn and a man is running alongside me. He smiles briefly and races ahead, clearing a path to the light in the clearing. I don’t have to turn around to know what’s after me.
Bats.
Ravenous bats.
“This way,” the man says, as we approach the cabin. He waves his hand and a door opens just in time for us to enter. I stumble to a halt as the door shuts behind us. There are no windows, but I hear the thump, thump, thumping of the creatures as they hit the cabin walls. In here, I am safe.
A small fireplace to one side gives the cabin a warm wooden glow. A couch rests to one side and