Violent Hearts: A Haunted Journey (Dark Intrusions, Book 1) by Deininger Keith

Author:Deininger, Keith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Meridian Publications
Published: 2018-10-27T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-one

Chloe/2018

That night, she had her first dream about Ozy.

She hid in the bushes and watched:

He was unassuming in his black suit, and she didn’t know how she knew, but there was no doubt in her mind it was him. It was night and very dark and he stood over a campfire, his hands out, as if warming them, as if to mark the importance of his words, words she could hear only as a garbled whisper, although his face was filled with a dreadful passion. The other two figures sat, their faces obscured in shadow, looking up at Ozy like enthralled cultists. One of them seemed to be laughing at whatever Ozy was saying, but if he made any sound she couldn’t hear it. Something sizzled on a spit over the fire, and they were reaching their hands out, ripping shreds free with bare fingers, eating with relish. Even Ozy, who wasn’t eating, seemed to be salivating as his lips formed and spewed their words. Then the breeze shifted and she caught some of those words: …close now…watching…over there… Her heart froze. Ozy was looking in her direction, where she crouched, unable to move. The others began to speak then, not turning, indecipherable, but clearly talking about her. They were laughing and she wanted to wake up. Ozy lifted a hand to her, large, with fingers long, like a silhouetted tree branch. His mouth, flickering with firelight, began to quiver and curl, and she willed herself to waken before she saw that smile, that grin that severed his face from ear to ear, revealing a tongue thick with mucus, and grotesque human-like teeth several sizes too large.

Only after it was too late, did she wake, a scream filling her throat.

The next day, she felt strange. She rubbed her eyes and yawned and shook her head. She gathered her things for the bathroom, which was around on the side of the building. It was like when she’d lived in the dorms in college and she had to use the shared bathroom down the hall. She stepped outside, squinting in the sun, and walked along the side of the building. She used the key the clerk had given her on the door and stepped inside. She locked the door behind her.

She took her time, but even after she was done showering she still felt something was off. Her dream about Ozy the night before had shaken her—she could never remember in her life ever having a dream like that before—but it was more than that. It was as if she hadn’t fully woken, as if part of her remained mired in sleep, in dreams. Her reality no longer felt solid or wholly rational. Everything she looked at had a tinge of the surreal about it. She blinked and scowled and tried to dismiss this unsettling feeling.

She pounded her fist on the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She had been feeling fine, in control. She had been confident she was doing the right thing.

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