Wight Night, Sour Dreams

Last night I had a dream.  I was in this old Victorian house with one of those stylish marble staircases that descended below ground.  I had a business partner with me (female, plain looking, no one I know) and old man that stood behind a podium much like a host at fancy restaurant.  We were talking to this nice older woman who was requesting a tour and asking if the experience was really real.  We were in the business of giving ghost tours.  The many spirits who resided in the house enjoyed talking to people and making themselves known and I had figured out a way to match curious believers with these oddly social spirits. 

I assured her the ghosts were quite real.  I walked over the long staircase and called down to two of my more friendly ghosts to join us.  As I did so, I caught the faintest glimpse, out of the corner of my eye, of a shadow that moved and was gone.  I thought nothing of it as the old house cast many strange shadows through its old and odd shaped windows.  It was truly a beautiful one of a kind house.  The two spirits came up the stairs, stopping near the top as they seemed to be confined to the lower level.  They wore tan expedition clothing and their edges were undefined; almost as if they were images projected onto some kind of sentient smoke.  They greeted the potential customer very politely and asked if she would speak with them for a while.  Our guest was thrilled and wholly convinced.  She immediately wanted to descend the stairs and meet more of these marvelous characters. 

We took her down the stairway, but the details of the event were lost to my mind.  The next I recall, the 5 of us were coming back up the stairs and our guest was gushing about what a wonderful experience this was and she was so glad she came to see it for herself.  As we laughed and chatted, our two friendly ghosts became very quiet and hesitated to walk us up the stairs.  They stared at something further up, something I did not see at first.  I looked to my side to ask them what was wrong but they had fled in what appeared to be fear.  The three of us were left standing at the bottom of the stairs with a sense of dread falling on us like the cold that falls from the freezer when you open it. 

Then I saw it, a shadow, lurking on the landing half way up the stairs.  I looked to my partner and saw that she had seen it as well.  “You lead.” I said.  Our guest asked what was wrong.  “Just stay between us and keep moving.”  My partner took her hand and we began running up the stairs.  When we reached the landing I saw the shadow lunge toward the old woman.  I moved to stop it.  My partner and our guest made it to the top of the stairs, but I was thrown hard into the marble staircase. 

I tried to climb, but it had a firm hold on me.  I struggled up three steps and it would pull me back two.  I nearly made the top.  My partner was reaching for me, trying to stay rooted on the upper level but lending me a hand; if I could just make it to that hand.  I kicked at the shadow, swung at it, shoved it; but all my efforts past through the incorporeal creature.  It was as vain as trying to wrestle the shadow it appeared to be.  So I climbed, fighting for every agonizing inch.  All the while I could feel it clawing and biting at me.  I could feel it’s hunger, smell its rage.  It would not let me get a good hold on anything.  It was determined to drag me further down the stairs.  Its horrible shape kept changing, teeth, claws, razors and hooks of shadow.  The way it pulled at me felt like a rabid wolf; biting and scratching at me, a constant unrelenting attack. 

I began to tire.  The marble had bruised me, the pain of the things attacks were wearing on me, my partners hand was so far away.  I braced myself to regroup.  I looked down at the monster to assess my situation and I realized something terrible.  Its claws did not grip my flesh.  Its teeth did not bite my bones.  It had a firm hold on my soul.  This was not a test of strength, this was test of wills.  And in that moment of terrible realized truth, a terror ripped through me; a terror great enough to shake my will.  It was only an instants failing, but it was enough.  The battle was lost.  The creature lunged.  And I was . . . . gone.

I woke from this dream with a terrible pain in my back.  I had a back injury 2 years ago, this wasn’t that bad; but it was enough to be quite painful.  I had some kind of terrible muscle spasm in my lower back.  I tried to lay still and let it relax.  That didn’t work.  I got up and tried to walk it off.  That hurt worse and I was too exhausted to think.  I’m a side sleeper normally, but lying on my side was the most painful position.  So I lay in bed, flay on my back, as still as I could for more than an hour before I finally nodded off.  Even then, every time I went to roll over in my sleep I had to wake up, lie flat, and try to relax.  This morning it still hurt; I was secretly hoping that had been part of the dream.  I’m still trying to loosen it up now, as I write this. 

This morning I feel like I was in a fight . . . and thrown down a staircase.