I step closer, and now it’s very clear that the music – which sounds like a simple composition played on a flute – is definitely coming from this strange shape. Instinctively, I reach out to touch the small stars, only to feel the same sense of hunger returning to my body. This time, however, something is different, and I realize after a moment that the hunger is now mixed with a sense of wonder. I stare at the stars for a moment longer, and then – quite inexplicably – I lunge forward and try to bite the sparkling shape.
Of course, I fall straight through and land hard on the orange sand, and then I turn to see that the shape is gone. The music has stopped, too, but I’m stunned for a moment by the realization that I was briefly filled with an urge to try to eat the music.
I must be dreaming.
I get up again and brush the sand from my jacket, but suddenly I hear footsteps. I turn, just in time to see a figure coming this way along the beach. Whoever this fellow is, he’s jet-black from top to toe, glistening as if he’s covered in some kind of thick oil. His arms and legs seem longer and more gangly that might be possible, and after a moment I realize that the bald head reminds me of the creature that I saw breaking out of Donald’s barn.
“Who are you?” I call out, but the creature ignores me and instead stops to peer at the spot where the strange shape previously hung in the air.
I wait, but it’s as if the creature has not noticed me.
“What is this place?” I ask, taking a step toward him. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I? Tell me that I’m dreaming.”
The creature stares at the empty space for a moment longer, before slowly turning to me.
“This isn’t real,” I whisper, before starting to pinch my left hand. “It can’t be real. I must be losing my mind. I must be having a stroke or something, right there on that camp-bed. I can only—”
Suddenly the creature’s featureless black face begins to change, and I see row upon row of sharp little teeth starting to poke out from beneath the surface. I take another step back, but more and more teeth are appearing until finally the creature’s entire body seems to be made of nothing but these dark little shards, all shifting and scraping against one another. And then, just as quickly, the shards turn in on themselves and the creature’s body goes back to its former smoothness.
I can’t help thinking that I was just warned for getting too close.
“What are you?” I ask, but already I’m feeling more and more certain that I recognize the creature. “Are you… I think I saw you tonight, coming out of the barn. That was you, wasn’t it?”
The creature stares at me for a moment, before slowly tilting its head.
I wait, not daring to say another word, until suddenly some more teeth appear on the creature’s face.
Stepping back, I realize that the creature is now emitting a brief, repetitive whistling sound, and I finally recognize this as the notes that I whistled when I was talking to Craig.
“What are you doing?” I ask cautiously. “I don’t understand.”
Slowly, the creature reaches down and scoops up some of the orange sand. It slips the sand into its face, through a hole that briefly appears, and then it scoops some more sand and holds it out for me.
“I can’t eat that,” I reply.
The creature steps closer.
“I can’t—”
Suddenly the teeth return, filling the creature’s face. Startled, I reach a hand out and take the sand, and I realize that perhaps I have no choice in this matter.
I take a few grains of the sand and slip the into my mouth, and to my surprise I find that they dissolve quickly on my tongue. I’m also surprised to notice that the taste is rather familiar, like…
Eggs.
This strange orange stand tastes like eggs.
“Very nice,” I mutter, “but I really don’t know what I’m doing here. Please, you have to help me understand. Is this a dream, or…”
I pause, before reaching down and scooping up a handful of sand myself. As I let the grains run between my fingers, I can’t shake the feeling that this all feels so much more real than any dream I’ve ever experience before. At the same time, I know quite well that a moment ago I was in that dark little room on the farm, so I suppose the only possible explanation is that I’m going through some kind of neurological episode.
Suddenly the creature steps toward me and reaches out, shoving me hard in the chest and forcing me to take a step back. At the same time, another hole appears on its face – ringed by sharp little teeth – and I hear a harsh, grating rattle coming from somewhere deep within its body.
“What was that for?” I ask. “I don’t even know why—”
Before I can finish, the same thing happens again, except that this time the shove is harder and I’m sent splashing back into the purple water.
“I don’t know what you want!” I shout, as the rattling sound gets louder and the creature seems to become more agitated. “Can’t you speak? Can’t you just tell me what’s happening?”
The creature stares at me for a moment, or at least I assume that’s what it’s doing. I can see no obvious eyes, although the dark teeth are now starting to come back to the surface of its body in more and more places. The sense of menace is impossible to ignore, and I’m starting to feel more and more threatened.
“I want to go home!” I say firmly, unable to hide my fear. “Do you hear me? I didn’t ask to come to this place, wherever it is, and I demand to go home!”
Suddenly the creature’s growl becomes a full-throated roar, and thousands upon thousands of tiny black teeth are now dancing and writhing all across its body like little shark fins that constantly criss-cross against one another.
“I don’t know what you are!” I shout, struggling to be heard as the roar gets louder and louder. “I demand that you—”
And then, before I can get another word out, the creature lunges at me and screams, and all the tiny teeth rush toward me through the air. I raise my hands in a futile attempt to protect myself from the swarm, and I fall back and land in the purple water as I feel all those sharp little razor-edged teeth slicing against my body.
Fifteen
Gasping, I open my eyes and sit up, and to my astonishment I find that I’m back on the camp-bed. Grey morning light is streaming through the window, and rain is battering against the glass. A moment later I feel a drip land on my forehead, and when I look up I see that there’s a hole in the roof. I must have been dreaming after all, although I still have to look down at my trembling hands to check that I wasn’t cut to ribbons by those monstrous teeth.
I have had vivid dreams before, but this particular dream was something else. I can still taste the egg-like sand in my mouth, and I can feel those tiny dark teeth ripping in my skin. I check my pulse and find that it’s racing, but after a moment I tell myself that it really was just a dream. At the same time, I glance once again at the window and stare for a few seconds at the distant forest. For a moment I feel as if something is staring back at me, but then I’m woken from this thought by the realization that I can hear something much closer to home.
In another part of the house, voices are shouting.
“No, you’re going to sit down and shut up!” Sharon is saying as I reach the kitchen, and when I look through I see that she’s holding onto Jessie’s arm and trying to pull her away from the front door. “This isn’t helping anyone!”
“Let go of me, you bitch!” Jessie yells, twisting this way and that in her increasingly violent attempt to get free. “I’m not staying here! I have to go and find some music!”
“Get a grip,” her brother Adam mutters from his seat at the table, clearly unimpressed.