DreamWalker

"Help Me" whispered a child's voice in my ear. The breath passed through my spine, like a gasp of cold air. I know I am alone in my bed, yet I feel the shifting of a body next to mine. I am full of fear. The covers begin to move off my body like I am being told to get up. "HELP ME" shout the child, but this time it was pain and suffering I heard. The room echoed like a drop in a dark cave. I felt intense pain all over, as I fell to the floor. This one was different, this one I could tell went through the worst. 'Let me in" the child whispered. I was terrified to let this child take hold of my soul. I knew this journey would be gruesome, and even at this point I still have yet to look at her.

As I muster the strength to look upon the hand holding my shoulder, the grasp she had felt strong. I slowly turn, as I get closer, and closer. I see the daunting, lifeless, winter cold, broken face. I stare, and stare, as the room filled with intense stiffness. I feel it again. I feel the drift I am about to take, the journey I am about to embark on. I grab the child's hand, and with worry in my voice, say "Show Me."

I begin to fall into a dimensional wormhole. This is different, this soul has had such agony, such pain she went into a different place. I call this place, the void. It's not purgatory, it's not the spirit realm. This is the place where souls go to reclaim and torture. This once beautiful soul is filled with anger and pain, and realistically, revenge. Justice is not what she wants, she wants torture to those that have done her wrong.

The wormhole is giving me flashes of her life, images of her happiness, sadness, anger, dread. She can't be older than 5 years old. She's still so little, yet so angry. As I finally hit the end of the wormhole, I see myself in a house. It's foggy and dark. I wander around to see. I open what looks like a small closet door. There is a mattress on the floor. The color deeply penetrated my mind. Brown, red, rust looking, it appears like splatters, smears, pools. I can see that the child must have relieved itself here many times. A foul odor seeps into my nose. I can't completely describe it. My attention gets diverted to the stairwell down. It's some sort of cellar, dungeon.

This is no normal family home basement. This is a torture chamber, this is a place of suffering. Blood is all around it. Tools, but not like garden tools or normal household tools. These are ones made specifically to inflict pain. My body becomes angry. My soul invigorates with rage. This beautiful little girl should never have gone through this. I walk up the stairs, to the top floor. One room looked normal, and another. But then I see a spare bathroom. The bathtub is filled with blood, handcuffs are attached to a railing. What in the world happened in this house.

I feel the agony coming over my mind. My soul aches for this once beautiful child. The anguish consumes my heart as I start to break down. "How?" I ask myself "HOW?" How could they do this to a baby, an innocent? My body begins to shutter as if I have been out in the cold for too long. I get pulled into another dimension, this one not as still. The little girl in front of me, they call her Sarah, and this is how her last moments played out.

Sarah is sitting at the table, bruises cover her body. They are telling her she is such a bad girl. They hate her mere existence. She begins to tear up. Crying from the cruel words. She askes for just a little bit of food. They reply, "You can eat your shit, you little bitch!" The woman got frustrated with her, locks her into the small closet. Leaving her for hours. Sarah can hear the woman and a man talking about how they want to torture her. They laugh and make it sound like it will be fun. Her heart is pounding in her chest, she knows she has no escape. All she tells herself, " I hope they make it quick, so it doesn't hurt so bad." But that's not the case at all. She will endure this pain for what feels like days.

At this point I'm angry, I'm terrified for her. I wish I could scoop her up and save her. This is not her fault. She appears next to me and grabs my heart. I bend down and whisper, " I'm here with you." She looks at me, this sweet angel, and with a quiet voice speaks to me " See what they did." I begin my journey with this angel soul down the stairs to the place where it all began.

This basement, this dungeon, it looks old and rusty. Water damaged walls and stained brick. The cement on the floor looks broken and chipping apart. In the middle of the room is a large steel table, resembles the kind you would find in a morgue. On the top and bottom are chains and handcuffs. They have Sarah strapped down on it. They have tools lined up next to them on the side table. Handmade torturing tools. A drill, a saw/ a utility knife. They heat the drill with a lighter. It's red and almost on fire. They start to drill her leg. Her scream fills the room. It's deafening, I lunge towards them. But nothing happens. I try to unstrap her, but my hands are fading through them. I'm crying hysterically now. When out of nowhere I hear Sarah say, "It's okay, I'm here now." I run towards her and hug her with all I have. How could they do this to you? I turn around, they are gutting her at this point, she's still alive, barely. Her intestines are plummeting onto the floor. I hear the immense amount of blood dripping off the table. This last part they do is unbearable. With the utility knife, they begin to scalp her, slowly. I see her take her last breath. The man and woman wrap up her body in a shower curtain and bury her in a wooded area. Alone, forgotten, abandoned.

I take her hand, kneel beside her. With hatred in my eyes, I say to her. "Let's make it right baby, Let's make it right." And together we walk into the dark tunnel, returning to this time. As I speed down the wormhole, I get images, street addresses, faces, locations. I wake, I feel, the uncontrollable anger fills my body and soul. With a darkened grim, I whisper to the air, " I'm coming motherfuckers, I'm fucking coming!"

Death comes to those who have done wrong. In my view, it's that simple. I know it's not like that. Most people commit horrible crimes and live perfectly normal lives smiling at their neighbors like nothing happened or is happening. These people have killed a beautiful child and live life normally. Like there isn't a consequence to their actions. I watch them, stalking them, slowly planning my move. My mind racing, as I try to find a way to punish these assholes. I want the pain to last a good minute. I want to make them feel every ounce of anger I have. Nothing seems good enough, right in the way. The question I repeatedly ask. How do you kill a child killer, how do you inflict torture on those that do this to a child, a baby?

My mind twists into a sadistic way. Thoughts race and anger consumes my every waking moment. This is the moment, this is the day. They leave for work like a normal day. Not a thought in their mind. I break in through the back door, and I wait. Like a silent killer behind the door. Here I am, here she is, this beautiful baby. As I wait, I see her in the corner of the room, crouched down, scared. I look into her lifeless eyes and see her thoughts. A part of her is so angry, another sad, miserable. Just wanting to live, just wanting love. This emotion enrages me more. I hear their car pull up, the keys turning into the lock. The door opens, my heart racing, pounding like a drum. Then the rage hits, and I hit them over the head knocking them out, one by one. Their bodies lie there in the entryway. I zip tie their hands and feet. They will not escape me, they will not escape their fate.

I drag their bodies down to the basement. It's almost soundproof, so no one will hear their screams, their pleads. I wait till they wake. Their eyes start to open. They tremble in fear, asking me who I am, what do I want. "Justice" I reply. " Justice is all we want." "We" they replied. "Who is we?" I said "Sarah and me. We want justice for her. For her soul." They began to scream like I'm the insane one. Am I insane? Do I even care if I was?

I grab the utility knife and say. " You know there is a torture method, inflicting a thousand cuts, It's called lingering death. I think it's a good starting point, don't you?" " I could do some disembowelment also, and maybe some scalping? Don't worry though, I will make sure this takes some time to kill you." They start to wail. I see Sarah in the corner, still with very mixed emotions, the emotions of a child, but then she remembers. I take her hand and tell her. " Let's do it together." The man and women look and yell, " Who the fuck are you talking to, there isn't anyone there!" I reply, " How about you really look, and see." They look around and there, holding my hand is Sarah, with her cuts and everything. They scream in complete fear. It's time and I begin to free Sarah. Each cut, each piercing is a slice of freedom, justice. Their wails their screams. It's like an orchestra from the heavens saving the sweet baby. The smell of iron fills the room. I see the shadow people around me like I'm gaining more demons, yet a light comes through. She is finally going to her resting place. Where she can be free from her tortured soul. The man and women begin to slip into their death. Their moments numbered. Their pain causes me happiness, relief that people like this are no longer in the world.

I see Sarah for the last time, her face is the way it should be. She has a beautiful yellow glow around her. She is free. She thanks me for my help and drifts into her peace. Another soul I saved. Justice was served. I have done my piece. I clean up my mess and move on to another story, another end, another story that needs to be told. I am Justice I whisper into the air as it echos through the wind and into the world.