Sunday 14 September 2014

Story: Oneiromancy, XI

(Part O , X , XII)

Stanley read Helen's notes, even as she read his, and then they both reflected for a few moments, against the backdrop of an inevitable dead panic. Finally he roused himself to ask the following: "What do you think all these rumours add up to?"

"What rumours?"

"All these tall tales you've written about, the strange things they talked about at college. What do you think it all means?" Stanley found a place he'd been looking for on the paper. "Project Dreamline?"

Helen hesitated, and then plunged into the explanation she had put together back in the bold old days, back when truth was stuck together with tape, assembled from the few facts available and gossipped mercilessly. "None of us ever knew, we were just psychology students, but these tales that went around never went away. Tales of strange dream studies and experiments, mostly in Mexico. But with too many strange details to be easily ignored." Some moments passed as she thought back. "It hardly seems connected."

"It's all we have. In the other world, the island, you seemed very sure of yourself. What did you mean with that talk about the woman killing all the others who could do what we do? What are you not remembering now?" Stanley was persistent, amongst many other things.

"I didn't know anything, it all just clicked together. That - woman, if she was ever human at all - has blocked that place up and eliminated all the people who do what we have been doing. She's a predator." Moments passed. "Maybe I am remembering something I didn't think I knew."

"It could all happen again tonight. And the night after. Every night until she traps us." Stanley grimaced. "And then what will happen to what's left of us out here?"

"Yes, what's left... I think I remember why people started talking about this to begin with, back at college." Helen stood up. "Come with me, this cafe's getting very full."

Stanley went with her. They walked down the street silently, thinking, and then back up it. Stanley gestured at his house. "I live there. It's pretty messy."

"I'm three or four streets over in that direction." Helen waved in turn. "What are we going to do?"

"Keep walking? Become wandering cheese vendors across the wilds of Europe? Write a book about it all? Learn about REM sleep so we can talk about all the things they talk about in the movies and in television shows?"

"All of those, bar the cheese vending. Can't stand the stuff!"

Stanley was mock aghast. "I'm walking with a cheese hater! Oh good grief, is that some kind of karmic punishment? Oh, if only humour were appropriate..." He trailed off. "Want to hear an idea?"

"What is it?"

"I've had problems with dreams forever, and even tried medication, but it turns out that they're necessary to keep us alive and sane. There was one thing that I didn't try though: hypnosis. It might help us while we're in there, and while we try to find out more about this thing that's happening, any help could be vital."

"Any help could save our lives."

There shall be more...

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