1444

On the Other Side of the Night

14May2019
Jul. 17

I have noticed of late that my dreams are becoming more and more lucid, imprinting with ever increasing clarity upon the more plastic portions of my memory.  I am therefore determined to record these recollections, in order to make an attempt at assigning sense to what are increasingly bizarre, and increasingly portentous, communiques to me from my subconscious.  What follows will be that record, along with some potentially pertinent notes concerning the preceding day, in case evidence of a causative link might thus be brought to light.

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4591

Island Dreams #2 & #3

29Apr2019
I dream of other islands, on other nights.  One in particular is a regular haunt, and it could not be more different from the first – a desolate, frigid, barren outcropping of rock in the midst of surging, wind-whipped black seas.
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, 1128

Bar, Bar, Bar

15Apr2019
I am lonesome.  All have abandoned me: the Candleman, the Toothsome Man, Mrs. Malloy, the cats; even the diabolical Chef has been avoiding me.  All the irregular deities of my bleak, midnight existence. Even Mallory sent around a short note to the effect that he regrets his inability to leave his chambers for even a short visit.  Which I know to be false as that man has never regretted a single debauched act in his richly immoral life.
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, 1093

Awakening to the Nightmare

08Apr2019
Something causes me to awaken suddenly in the night.  I become aware of the Candleman whispering unintelligibly in my ear, closer to me than he has ever been before, the light of his soul dazzling in the darkness.  Slowly, my groggy consciousness recognizes a dim glow in a corner of my chamber. The Candleman’s whispers become more urgent, but no more intelligible. I can see the beams of his soul in the lantern of his skull dimming, even as the suffusion of orange light increases next to the coal scuttle.  
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, 1164

The Host

21Feb2019
I can feel…something.  I awaken from a deep sleep to an uncomfortable sensation, a sort of subcutaneous horripilation, rippling up my right thigh.  There is movement within my leg, as of some sort of wriggling creature. It almost feels as if something were in some fashion swimming in the layer between my muscles and my skin, but without actually parting the tissue.  There is no pain, nor any numbness. Just a feeling of something alien crawling within my body, making its way from my extremities toward my head, my brain. I cannot attempt visual verification of this sensation, as the gas has been shut off and it is sometime past midnight.  Nor do I dare to move my hand to my thigh, to move my nightclothes and attempt to feel this thing with my most sensitive organs of touch. I dare not.
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