It’s all a fucking dream. Noises come and go. They’re fast at first, but they slow down and disappear. Then they return fast and loud as if they were born anxious and ready to destroy. They’re destroying something.
I can’t see it but I can feel it. The last painful thrusts of destruction are the most agonizing of them all. The pain is steady as the noises rampage; the pain accelerates astronomically as the noise subsides. It’s a vicious cycle, and it just doesn’t stop.
So, I say to myself, it’s all a fucking dream.
But those words aren’t loud enough to go over the noise and pain. If this is all a dream, I want to wake up right now.
Last I remember it was Friday. I lit the four tall candles. I repeated the incantation for each candle then I lit 66 candles. Yeah, all 66 candles just like the instruction manual said. After I lit the last candle there was an explosion and then the noise.
And then there was the pain.
This is not a dream.
I wish it were. At least the noise is gone. I can sleep now.
Who are you?
I’m definitely dreaming right now. There’s a red-head giant and a blond elf standing in front of me.
“Yes,” the elf replies, “you’re dreaming.” The elf pokes at my chin. “And, I’m not an elf.”
“Just a tad short,” the giant replies, “and I’m just a tad tall.” The giant grins.
I’m fucking dreaming.
“Yes,” the elf replies, “you’re dreaming.” The elf points at the giant. “Didn’t I just say that?”
“Yes,” the giant replied. “Yes, you did.” The giant looks down at me. “What’s your name boy?”
I’m not a boy!
“Erick,” the elf leans over my face. “I’m Tabby.”
Get out of my face!
“So rude,” the giant pulls Tabby away from me. “I’m Ulysses.”
Great, what are you doing here?
Tabby wags her finger. “That’s no way to talk to your elders.” She grins.
“Anyway,” Ulysses puts a hand over my forehead. “We must prepare young Erick.” He looks at Tabby and she nods. Their eyes are dead serious like hot burning granite.
Tabby’s blond hair turns a golden pink. She put two hands over Ulysses’s hand.
An orange light appears as a Tabby recites an incantation. I recognize some of the words. ‘Use these words to call upon the immortal,’ the instructions had said. But, all I had managed was an explosion.
If this was a dream.
The orange light subsided. Tabby and Ulysses aren’t around.
“Small burns,” a nurse paces. A nurse? Hospital, I must be in a hospital.
“Yep,” replies a doctor. “This boy is lucky.”
I’m not a boy. Don’t they know that? They’re a nurse and a doctor. Don’t they read that clipboard or something?
“We’ll give him another hour to rest before he can receive visitors.” The doctor says as he and the nurse leave my room.
If I was in a hospital, and I was unconscious, how the heck did that strange elf and giant get in here. Tabby and Ulysses, strange people in my room!
I move my right hand and feel a piece of paper.
I can read! I think I can, I raise the paper to my face, squinting to read the bad handwriting.
You are hereby sentenced to trial for malpractice of rituals and magic. You stand trial in 10 days. Agent Tabitha and Agent Ulysses will escort you.
Magic Council of the North Americas
Malpractice? I was just following the instructions from the book I bought at the old second hand store. If it was a dream, why are Tabby and Ulysses real? If only it was just a dream!
Excerpt from a very experimental story.