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A Bone to Pick

The House from my dreams has some new visitors.

By J. L. GreenPublished 2 months ago 4 min read
A Bone to Pick
Photo by Evie Fjord on Unsplash

I see the house and, like a switch, my logical mind clicks on; not quite awake, but not fully asleep. Seeing this house is like a trigger for my memories (or dream memories because while I am thinking, it's using dream logic so it doesn't have to make sense).

It is The House.

An ornate two story Victorian brownstone with both an attic and a basement. The kitchen and one of the bathrooms are usually grand and amazing; something I would love to have in real life.

Once The House shows up and I wonder inside, three things happen.

One: I will try to very hard to find that pretty bathroom with a luxurious tub or shower, or both, because I want to take a nice, hot bath. There will be at least two sub-par bathrooms that I find first.

Two: I will get lost in a maze of bedrooms while either searching for or leaving the bathroom of my dreams. Sometimes, not often, I will wander through a child's room and it fills me with a sense of, not quite dread, but that I don't need to be there.

And three: At some point I will be reminded with the sudden shock of a gunshot, that there is something evil in the attic. Then my dumbass tries to find out what it is. (The one time I got close, I woke up immediately. Still not sure why.)

I have over a dozen memories of this house in various settings, but those three things are a constant.

The wrap-around porch is clean, the doorframe higher than it should be, and walking inside is like going into a different world. The foyer is grand with a set of stairs winding up both walls to the balcony above.

My bones ache for a nice, warm soak in the jacuzzi tub I know is in here somewhere. Archways are on both sides of me, one leading to the kitchen, the other to...doesn't matter. I head up the staircase, pausing at the balcony railing to sift through my memories.

There's at least three bathrooms up here, I remember that clearly, and-

BAM!

I jump and freeze. Something fell nearby (not in the real world. My logical brain knows it was in the dream).

"Careful!" A thin, wispy voice hisses.

Something about it...it's also not in the real world but it's not quite apart of the dream. I glance to the left, down to the first floor of the foyer, and my logical brain short-circuits.

There are...things down there. Tiny things, maybe a foot tall. Four of them. Humanoid? It's hard to tell. They are indeed wispy with thin limbs and a shape that is humanoid but changing. Like a slime or ooze. Or shadow. (They don't blend into the dream the way everything else does. They don't belong.)

One of the things has a more corporeal form and is larger than the rest by mere inches. It watches as one of the other small beings looks to where a vase is on the wooden floor, bends down, picks it up an inch, and drops it again with an even bigger ruckus than the first time.

The being throws it's wiggling arms(?) up in a human sign of frustration.

"Is this your first dream?" Judging by it's tone, it is not expecting an answer. The clumsy being sinks even lower and shuffles off down the hallway between the staircases.

The tallest being shakes what could be it's head and turns to see the vase, glancing up my way. I can see what would be eyes on a human, but on this creature they are large, taking up most of it's face. They are just vast pools of shimmering gold, and they are beautiful.

It freezes. I freeze, more than I have been.

The other two beings have noticed the tallest one and look my way then freeze as well.

"Can she see us?" One of them asks; this one has a voice like a whisper, but carries with the weight of a storm cloud.

The tallest being shushes him with a tossed hand(?).

(It's not unusual for me to try to make sense of my dreams as I'm dreaming them. I've even been jump scared by a dream once. So this could just be my brains way of not melting in confusion.)

"It really looks like she can see us," the third one whispers. It's voice echoes through the halls, through my mind, and I snap to attention.

No. These don't look like the rest of the house. They are to vivid, too clear where everything else is muddled.

Looking over my shoulder down the hallway where the bathrooms are supposed to be, I find more of these things. They are meandering about, touching things, moving things, changing things.

How are they changing things? I'm not trying to change things, so they shouldn't be able to either. Unless...I don't control them.

Then what are they? This isn't normal. This isn't right!

When I look back down at the tallest, he seems to notice it the same time I do; I am much more aware than I should be, and I am not okay with it.

Without any pomp or pause, he raises what could be his hands and shouts, "SHE'S LUCID!"

The beings downstairs scurry away, out of sight, and there is a force at my back. It pushes me, hard, and I tumble over the railing.

And wake up with a jolt in my bed in the real world.

I stare at the ceiling for a moment, gathering my thoughts, then frantically look in all the corners of the room. The beings aren't there. Maybe...maybe it was just a weird dream. It's not the first time I've seen The House, but it is the first time I've noticed those things.

I hope beyond hope that the next time The House shows up in my head, that those things won't be inside.

Psychological

About the Creator

J. L. Green

I've been writing for fun since I was a preteen and haven’t stopped since. I tend to favor the darker/angsty/thriller type of themes. Here’s to hoping readers enjoy my work, and those that don't find something they do.

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    J. L. GreenWritten by J. L. Green

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