Moonshadow (7 page)

“Marjorie, I know you were probably about to turn in for the evening, but could you brew a pot of tea—
vethelas
, if you please.”

“Of course sir, it would be no trouble at all,” she said with a smile and walked out.

When she was gone, Darien turned his attention to Diana. “The two of you should be comfortable in here. Marjorie will be bringing up an herbal tea that should help your friend’s body purge whatever was given to her. I will leave you be.” He smiled and made to leave.

“Darien,” she called out and he turned to look at her. “Thank you—for everything.”

With a strange look of conflict in his eyes, Darien smiled and nodded before closing the door behind him.

Leaving her extremely mixed emotions concerning Darien Shepherd for the time being, Diana settled in for a long evening of taking care of Lani while her body rejected whatever poisons were currently coursing through it.

Diana hoped it didn’t last too long—she really needed some sleep.

Chapter 4

O Reluctant Prophet, what did you see

As you dreamed in whale’s belly darkness deep?

O Thracian Bard, by what mystery did

You walk the paths of darkest Tartarus,

To charm the hearts of dread Hades

And his reluctant queen Persephone

Thus claiming the hand of Eurydice.

The swirling darkness sprang forth like a mighty fountain, enveloping Diana in its embrace of shadow.

The forgotten fear erupted from within, even before the vertigo of falling took her and she screamed into the nothingness.

The descent could have lasted mere moments or several hours, but Diana finally felt solid ground beneath her hands and knees. Her mind was reeling and unable to focus, her spirit attempting to regain a small amount of peace.

Diana finally opened her eyes
.
The weight of many years of defeat fell heavily upon her as she gazed out into the dark sky of swirling purple clouds and pulsing green lightning.

Her night terrors had returned.

She’d been sensing it for days but had tried to deny them her consciousness—if she didn’t acknowledge the nightmares then they weren’t real, were they? The tactic had worked for years, but Diana now realized her curse was not so easily broken.

She began to sob, remembering those terrifying nightmares that came on the cusp of adolescence. They had been frightening, seeming all too real; and unlike most people, Diana remembered every agonizing detail when she awoke.

Diana screamed out in frustration to the world of dreams.

Like past nightmares, the atmosphere that surrounded Diana began to shift and contort as if affected by her emotions. The hazy dream world seemed to twist and wrench along with her heart.

Remembering the danger such emotional states could bring upon her, Diana willed herself back to some semblance of calm—if she wasn’t careful, the Terrorfiends would find her. The creatures of the nightmares were always drawn to her when she lost control.

She looked around with caution but saw nothing—no demonic beasts screaming with chaotic fury, nor the little Lurker devils that cackle with laughter at her pain. Neither did she see the more angelic Terrorfiends—the winged beings of frightening beauty who’s judging eyes filled Diana with a deeper fear than any demon. She was safe—for the time being.

Slowly, Diana stood up and continued to gaze at the swirling, otherworldly, sky, seeking answers to a heart full of unknown questions.

Why is this happening?
She’d felt the shadow’s familiar pull as soon as she arrived at the university. Had something—or someone—on campus sparked the return of her nightmares? Her strange empathy had been much more potent as well; was it all related somehow?

What should I do?
If she continued further into the nightmare world she might wake up sooner; but if she waited out the nightmare, it would feel like days. Diana’s heart sank at the memories—fear and confusion mixed with a large amount of aggravated anxiety.

Diana clenched her hands into fists. After the night she’d had, she was definitely not spending what felt like days inside of a nightmare—she’d face the terrors and wake up as soon as possible.

She began walking from the rubble surrounding her, wondering what personal hell would be awaiting her this time. Beginning the journey was always the easiest; the dreamscapes seemed the most normal and were usually a hazy version of the environment in which Diana fell asleep—unless she let her emotions lose control. The landscape of shattered rocks and erupted ground around her was evident of that fact.

Diana journeyed on, surrounded by large, ominous, jagged rocks and hills of dark stone. They seemed to be taunting Diana, threatening to fall and crush her spirit.
At least it’s not water this time.
A shiver went up her spine as she recalled the sensations of drowning for hours without ever waking.

With a growing sense of alarm, she ran swiftly up the side of a rocky hillside in an attempt to make the nightmare reach its conclusion faster. It never worked but she always seemed to try it anyway.

As Diana reached the summit, her foot caught on a rock and she was sent tumbling forward. Shards of stone tore into her flesh as her body rolled and twisted down the slope. When she finally stopped, she opened her eyes and was shocked by what she found—a path of smooth pavement.

That’s new.
Even though she always looked for one, Diana had never found a road before; every past night terror had always seemed chaotic and meaningless. A strange sense of excitement filled her as began following the path.

Diana paused as a peculiar sensation filled her chest, similar to the pins and needles of a sleeping limb. The pulses and tingles reverberated within her, almost with a rhythm of their own. It was like feeling the hum of a tune rather than hearing it.
Am I
feeling
a song? Is that even possible? Of course it is. It’s a dream—nothing is supposed to make sense.

As she journeyed along the path, the feeling of the song grew louder and more intense—the melody was speaking to her without words and something stirred inside her chest, wanting to answer. By urge or by instinct, Diana reached into her dream-body. For a moment it felt like putting her hand through cold water, but beyond the coldness, a strange warmth lurked within. Diana wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it out—a small fire danced in her hand as if alive.
Did the flame ignite when I felt the song?
She felt uneasy; nothing like this had ever happened before.

She went to put whatever the fire was back but it seemed to protest. It changed its dance, pointing forward as if a wind were blowing and forcing it to do so. Confused, Diana pressed on.

Before she took three steps, the ground beneath her feet started to quake as the rocky slope to her right twisted and contorted as if made of mud. Diana grabbed ahold of a large boulder for support.

Her emotional state hadn’t changed, so why did the dreamscape suddenly change so dramatically? Diana should have been alarmed by it, but wasn’t. It was strange; the mountains and hills surrounding her did not feel ominous and terrifying. Instead, they felt as warm and inviting as the embrace of a lover—a bizarre feeling to receive from hills of stone.

When the shifting finally stopped and the ground was calm, Diana stood in a valley surrounded by rocky hills on all sides. In the sky above, cracked and broken remains of a moon looked down upon her, red with a portentous glow. As comforting as the hills were, she found the broken moon very unsettling.

Diana tore her gaze away from the sky to find a building—also a rarity when fully immersed in her dreams—situated in the middle of the valley. With its broken pillars and marble edifices, it looked like the ruins of an ancient temple.

This nightmare is getting stranger by the second.
With caution, Diana made her way towards the building. Perhaps, after all these years, she may finally find some hidden meaning to these nightmares.

After ascending the steps and passing slowly through the entryway, Diana found the building eerily empty save for seven ruined pillars around an altar of stone in the middle.

Fear grabbed ahold of Diana and she hid behind the nearest pillar of stone. Someone was there—and not a regular Terrorfiend. Was it one of
them
?
Could it be a Dark Master?

The memory of Diana’s last encounter with a Dark Master made her slump to the ground behind her shield of rock. Unlike the other nightmare creatures, he had spoken to her, and his taunting had been agonizing. When he opened his wickedly grinning mouth, it had felt like all that was good and happy in her soul was being eaten. Most terrifying of all, he hadn’t been a demonic beast, but rather, a humanoid being that felt more evil than anything Diana had ever encountered in her realm of terrors. She’d thought him the Devil himself, come to take her soul to Hell, but the Dark Master had assured her that he was not the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, or any other demented human personification of evil.

Diana’s sleep therapist had been much more enthusiastic about the experience than she had been—diagnosing the Dark Masters as personality shadows she’d created in her subconscious. Whatever they were, she never left the initial dreamscape again after that night.

Diana slowly and cautiously stretched her neck to peer around the side of the pillar and inspect the being sitting cross-legged before the altar. It was a man, his eyes closed and appearing deep in meditation.

He reminded her of the last Dark Master—looking human in shape but seeming otherworldly at the same time—however, this one did not give off an aura of evil as the previous one had.  His medium-length hair was black as pitch, and with his pale skin, he looked chilling but handsome. There was a preternatural feeling about him—an almost ethereal quality—that Diana knew marked him as not being human.

What tortures would be in store for her if this nightmare being noticed her? What was she supposed to do; sit here and wait to find out?
I’m not some scared thirteen-year-old anymore; it’s just a stupid dream.
With a deep breath, and a fair amount of forced courage, Diana stood up and then slowly walked towards the Dark Master.

Standing before him, Diana was struck by how peaceful he looked—like a blissful dreamer in an elaborate nighttime world all of his own. At any moment, though, he could open his eyes and turn into some horrifying creature that would probably eat her over and over again until she woke up. If it was going to happen, she’d rather it happen soon. Diana sat cross-legged, mirroring the Dark Master’s position, and waited for a reaction.

Each agonizing moment of anticipation that ticked by drove her further into insanity.
Just see me already.
I can’t take it anymore—I have to end this now.

Diana stood up from the ground and smacked the Dark Master hard across the face.

He immediately opened his eyes and looked at her, his gaze as intense as the throbbing pain in her hand. His piercing gray eyes filled with confusion and rage, and a fair amount of astonishment, as the same emotions rushed off of him in waves, filling Diana’s empathy until she was struck by a powerful, and familiar, feeling of nausea.

Her own eyes went wide with astonishment.

It was Darien.

Through a swirling haze, he became more recognizable to her eyes as the two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. His anger quickly melted away, leaving only the confusion and bewilderment.

When he began to reach for her, the floating remains of the blood-red moon above exploded in green fire and Diana’s world erupted into flames.

—

Diana gasped awake, the sensation of the hot flames fading into memory. After a few moments she was able to breathe normally and find her composure. The sight of Lani sleeping peacefully beside her finally jostled her back to reality—she was in Darien’s house.

Now very awake, Diana sat upright in the bed. Her mind was a tumult of anxiety and confusion.

Why had Darien Shepherd been in my nightmare?
People had confused and tormented her emotions before—probably more so—but they had never appeared in her strange dream world quite like that. She had an even more pressing concern—she needed to know why the nightmares had returned after being dormant for so long.

The sudden sound of a door slamming somewhere on the first floor brought Diana out of her thoughts.

Her head throbbed with pain as she moved to the side of the bed. She brushed a hand against her forehead—it was drenched in sweat and she was burning up. Had she gotten feverish?

She turned around to check on Lani; her roommate was still fast asleep. Diana was glad she hadn’t been woken up by the noise—she needed the rest.

Slowly, Diana stood from the bed and walked out of the guest room to see what all the commotion was about. Taking care not to be seen, she crept to the banister and peered over to get a good look of the foyer.

A scarlet-haired woman, wearing a white lab coat, was pacing before the front door and Diana felt the intensity of her fury even from her high vantage point. Diana clutched the banister tightly for support as an anxiety took ahold of her not unlike the times her father went into a heated irrational tirade.

Even though the woman’s face was twisted in anger, she may have been the most beautiful woman Diana had ever seen in real life. Finally finished with her pacing, she opened a nearby closest and placed her lab coat within. Her anger lessened slightly, along with Diana’s empathetic anxiety, and Diana loosened her grip on the banister.

I wonder if that’s Miriam.
Diana couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Her skin was perfect—like it had been chiseled from the same soft white stone as the bust of Darien’s sister.
I thought
I
was fair skinned.
She felt silly comparing herself to this woman who looked like a Greek goddess come to life.