The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Dream Demon 
by Elaine Pascale 

The dream demon lurks in the hallway while she sleeps. A memory plays out behind her closed eyelids; the reminiscence tattooed on her senses.

She opens her eyes, but the smell lingers. It lays over her like a second blanket.

“I am still asleep,” she tells the demon that stands in her doorway. She has read about sleep paralysis demons and understands that if she weren’t asleep, the demon would no longer be there.

She closes her eyes to block out the sight of her phantom visitor but is confronted with the memory that matches the plaguing smell. She is watching her mother watch the police officers as they canvass the woods behind their house. The landscaping bags that had gone missing from the garage had been ignored, along with the dirty shovel that had been aggressively stowed in a dark corner where it did not belong. The dream demon is also in a dark corner where it does not belong, and she is faced with a memory she cannot ignore.

The demon is now in her room, sneering at her as she lies captive in her bed. “I am still asleep.” She tries to force herself to speak. Words would wake her. Words would bring her back to this world and away from the woods where the bags leaned and gaped.

She reminds herself that if she were not asleep, the demon would no longer be there.

The demon raises its hands and plays with its lips. It also wants to speak. It wants to tell her something. Just as her brother had wanted to tell her something when he had asked her how she would hide a body. He had wanted her to canvass his mind as the officers had canvassed the woods. He had wanted her to make it all stop. Another moment that should not have been ignored.

The demon is somehow closer to her bed even though she never saw it move. It smells like burnt skin and hair. It smells like the body parts that had been discarded in the landscaping bags.

The demon stands by her feet. It could easily reach out and tickle her soles, her most sensitive skin. She knew it wouldn’t; it wasn’t there for silliness and giggles.

“I am still asleep. You can’t really touch me. You can’t do anything. I am still asleep,” she tells it and its grin broadens widely.

It climbs onto her bed and crouches on her chest. The demon beckons her with its gnarled hand, as if wanting to establish closeness to share a secret.

“I am still asleep,” she protests.

The demon shakes its head. “You smell different when you are awake.”

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Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of Pixaby.com

More from Elaine Pascale:

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