Fallen Stones (17 page)

"Wow! Maybe I shouldn't have taken that pill until I was in bed," he thought. "It is really screwing with my head already." Then he shook off the strange incident, turned off the remaining lights and went up to bed.

By the time he reached the kids' bathroom, he saw the door was open, and apparently Jeremy was already finished and in his room. Jason wondered just how clean the boy could have gotten with such a quick shower but decided to give him a pass this time. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day for all of them, and right now sleep was what they needed more than anything else.

He stopped by both rooms to kiss the kids goodnight, then peeked into the nursery to check on Sammy. The boy was already sound asleep, and Stephanie was apparently was getting ready for bed. He walked into their bedroom and heard the familiar sounds of Stephanie washing her face and brushing her teeth. He changed into his pajamas and lay on the bed propped up on his pillow, his hands intertwined behind his head as he waited his turn in the bathroom.

After a few moments, Stephanie emerged and said, "Your turn." Then she gave Jason a peck on the lips and sighed, “Goodnight, honey. I'll see you in the morning.”

Jason went into the bathroom to complete his own nightly ritual. Strangely, he found himself avoiding his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. It was as if he believed somewhere deep down in his subconscious, if he were to look directly into the reflective glass, it might result in a return of the hideous image he thought he had imagined downstairs. Part of him knew the idea was ridiculous, but still he could not bring himself to look into the mirror.

In a few minutes, he finished in the bathroom and turned out the light. As he looked across the bedroom, he realized his beautiful wife was already fast asleep. She was barely visible in the limited light from the lamp on the end table, as she was snuggled deep under her covers. Although it was spring, the evening had been a cool one. Jason originally thought he might want to discuss a few more ideas with her before they slept. But then he realized it was probably for the best that she was already asleep. Any conversation they might have had would likely have resulted in their both staying up later than they needed to. And besides, he too was starting to feel the effects of the nighttime pill, which meant he would very likely be asleep soon as well.  

He crawled beneath the covers, turned out the light on the end table and quickly joined Stephanie in the world of restful dreams. But unknown to Jason, Stephanie would not be having a very restful sleep. Instead, her dreams would be haunted with horrible and terrifying images. Although she would likely blame the nightmares on the pill she had taken, they actually had their roots in some place much more sinister and menacing than simple over-the-counter pharmaceuticals.

During the night, Stephanie was bombarded with one horrendous nightmare after another. When she reached that place in the sleep cycle where dreams occur, she first encountered a young woman dressed in an early twentieth century evening gown, who looked quite a lot like her. The woman appeared to be mad with rage and was in the process of pulling two young boys, perhaps not more than four and six years old across a grass covered meadow. The two boys were kicking, screaming and pleading with the woman to let them go, but she would not relent.

Suddenly the image changed, and Stephanie was standing in a bedroom of an old house. The room was awash with light from candles and antique oil lamps. She looked up into the full-length dressing mirror, which stood in the bedroom suspended from a wooden frame. Instead of seeing her own reflection, she once again saw the familiar face of the same madwoman she had seen earlier. The woman was still dressed in an old fashioned evening gown, but the front of the gown was covered with small streaks of blood. Stephanie felt as though she was looking out through the crazy woman's eyes. Those eyes bore a wild animal-like look of savagery which she saw in the reflection, as the face stared back, smiling an insane smile.

After a moment, a man burst through the bedroom door.  He was tall and wore an old-fashioned business suit. He carried a walking stick, with an ivory handle, which appeared to have been carved in the shape of a wolf's head. The man resembled her husband Jason, with his dark brown hair and wire-framed glasses, but he still seemed somehow different.

His eyes were filled with tears and wild with rage as he stormed across the room.  

Then, with his breath hitching heavily in his chest, the man raised the cane high above his head and without a moment's hesitation slammed its ivory handle into the side of her skull.  

In an instant, Stephanie found herself once again outside of the woman's body watching the scene from high above as if she was floating up near the ceiling. The angry man continued to squeeze the woman's throat ever tighter as her eyes bugged wildly out of her skull. Then surprisingly, the woman looked up directly at Stephanie, and as their eyes met, the woman smiled knowingly at Stephanie as if she were aware of Stephanie's presence.  

The man sat weeping on the floor, cradling the woman in his arms.    Then his eyes locked with Stephanie's in a knowing stare and she realized the man had also changed significantly and now appeared to be identical to Jason.  

As Stephanie watched in terrorized silence, never allowing her eyes to leave the man's/Jason's strange gaze, he reached slowly into his suit jacket pocket and withdrew a long ivory handled straight razor.  

Then, just as nonchalantly, he brought the razor up to his own throat and while still staring into Stephanie's eyes and giving her that strange half knowing smile, he slit his own throat from ear to ear.  

Stephanie mercifully awoke with a start hovering in that strange state somewhere between asleep and awake not certain if she were still dreaming or was conscious. She looked around the bedroom surprised to find her blinds open and their room awash with moonlight. She was certain she had closed the blinds before going to bed.  Stephanie heard a scratching, clawing sound coming from the foot of her bed. A cold chill seemed to start at the back of her skull and squirm like a slithering snake down to the base of her spine. She immediately understood something was not right. A foul smell had begun to permeate the room. The odor was like that of a dead putrefying animal.

At the bottom of her bed, she saw two skeletal hands creeping up apparently from the floor below. They were covered with withered grey flesh but were so bony in appearance as if to suggest the translucent skin was not actually there. The fingers gripped the covers of her bed as they slowly pulled themselves closer toward her. She could not move; neither could she let out the scream of terror, which wanted to erupt from deep within her tightening chest, from the very depths of her soul.

Stephanie sat bolt upright in her bed, awakening from the horrible nightmare, sweat beading on her brow. She thanked God that it had all just been a terrible dream. She looked toward the bottom of her bed, and although she could no longer remember why, she felt the need to do so. She experienced an unusual rush of relief at seeing the covers lying smooth at her feet. Then she began to feel foolish. What else had she thought she would see except for her covered feet? She had an almost certain sensation she might see something at the foot of her bed but for the life of her, she could not recall what that might be.

She turned to look at the glowing ghostly blue display of her digital alarm clock and saw it was only 2:15 AM. Stephanie was surprised at how bright the clock display seemed; much brighter than she remembered. She knew the glow was at least much more brilliant the previous clock she owned, which had been equipped with a red display but had broken a week earlier.

However, for some unknown reason the glow from the new clock appeared to be much too bright, more so than even the illumination she would have gotten from a lamp. She wondered why she had never noticed the way it washed the entire room with its eerie cobalt aura before. She decided, at some suitable time, she would have to do something about replacing it as well.

She could not recall what had actually awoken her, but realized she suddenly needed to use the bathroom. She twisted slowly in bed and placed her feet on the floor as she sat on the edge of the mattress for a moment, trying to get her bearings before standing up. The surface of the floor felt unexpectedly chilly on her bare feet as if the temperature along the floor had suddenly dropped thirty degrees, yet the air around her seemed to maintain its normal room temperature. It was only the floor, which had acquired the strange coldness. But because of the chill from the floor, combined with the haunting azure glow of the clock, Stephanie felt as though the entire room was beginning to cool.  

As she was about to stand up, she felt something unusual in the icy air surrounding her feet. Icy cold tendrils seemed to slowly wrap themselves around her pale white ankles like some strange invasive plant or vine. She cautiously looked down at the floor seeing her feet take on a bluish grey appearance from the cerulean glow. The she realized with unbridled terror that some type of long bony fingers had appeared from beneath her bed and were now slithering like serpents, attempting to get a secure grip on her legs; perhaps wanting to pull her down, perhaps into some unseen portal under her bed, into world of the dead. Stephanie was overcome with terror and her heart felt like it had jumped into her throat.

"Mommy! Wake up!" Stephanie heard a distant voice calling to her from some faraway place. She groggily opened her eyes as the voice became louder and clearer and saw Cindy's pretty face next to her bed as the young girl shook her mother her vigorously, attempting to awaken her.

Stephanie was a bit confused and was trying desperately to find her way back from the world of nightmares. As she sat up and shook off the sleep and the effects of the nighttime cold pill she had taken, she saw Cindy was dress and ready to go.

"Honey?" Stephanie asked. "What...I mean who... I mean... how did you get ready to go...already?"

She heard Jason entering the room with little Sammy in his arms. She could hear the steady computerized tones of a video game in the distance and suspected Jeremy was downstairs playing one of his games. Jason surprisingly appeared to also be showered and dressed and ready as well. She must have had a strange expression on her face because Jason said, "Don't worry, Steph. I took care of them. You were sleeping so deeply, and I figured you needed to rest so I let you sleep a bit longer while we all got ready. Then I sent Cindy in to wake you up."

"Oh my Lord." She replied, "I was sleeping the sleep of the dead." Then a cold chill appeared on the back of her neck upon hearing herself uttering the expression, but she didn't understand why as the memories of her nightmares had faded.

Jason said, "I'll take the kids downstairs and make them breakfast while you are getting ready. I'll put a pot of boiling water on for tea for us as well. By the time you're finished, breakfast will be ready. Take your time. It's only about 7:15. We don't have to leave until around 9:30. The kids and I were just so excited about today we all woke up early."

"Ok...see you in a bit," Stephanie said as she stumbled into the bathroom to get ready for the busy day ahead. As she soaked under the hot cleansing shower, feeling herself come back to reality out from the fog of sleep, she had a strange apprehensive sensation growing deep inside of her, almost an intuition of some impending danger. Although she could recall nothing of the horrible dreams of the previous night, she was gripped by the uncertain and ominous feeling surrounding her.

Chapter 9

 

The four-year-old Dodge Grand Caravan followed the silver Cadillac along the winding two-lane country road. Jason and Stephanie Wright sat noticeably silent as if unsure of what to say. Or perhaps they were trying to come to grips with everything they had just learned. They appeared to be allowing the gravity of what they were told that morning in the Ashton lawyer's office to somehow sink in.

Slowly, Jason turned his head toward the passenger's seat, while simultaneously Stephanie turned to look at him. It was as if a type of telepathy, the kind that often seems to exist between older married couples, had suddenly found its way into their still relatively new marriage. They also seemed to share similar facial expressions. Stephanie's eyes were wide with a combination of shock, disbelief and an almost mad giddiness, while Jason's face resembled that of a small child with an all-you-can-eat pass for his favorite candy store.

He glanced back at the road for a moment; then as he looked once again at Stephanie, he silently mouthed a question, which he was certain, had to be on her mind as well. It was not so much a question as a statement, the very utterance of which was somehow more incomprehensible than an answer to any question might be. This was something he simply had to get out of his system but which he did not intend to allow the children to overhear.  "Three…million!" his lips silently said as his eyes widened with ever dawning comprehension.

Stephanie slowly nodded her head in agreement as if trying to somehow wrap her own arms around the concept, but it was as if she too was unable to do so. She didn't reply because she truly had no idea what to say. Instead, she continued to stare at Jason with a small dream-like grin on her face; a look she feared might become a semi-permanent fixture until she was able to come to grips with everything.

The truth was Jason had nothing to worry about regarding any concern he might have about the kids overhearing their conversation as most of the time they didn't care to listen to "boring parents" talk anyway. And besides that, all three of them were busy talking at once in the back of the van. Jeremy and Cindy were animatedly discussing what they imagined the farm might look like or more importantly what adventures they would discover when they toured the coal mine later in the afternoon. Little Sammy was spouting out a combination of both semi-recognizable words as well as garbled gibberish, his being caught up in the excitement of the day and doing his best to be included in the conversation. To anyone listening it would sound like wild and joyous chaos, which was precisely what it was.