Dream LXXXVII

It had been a warm November, which is why I was startled when I opened the door to my apartment to find the ground covered with snow. In fact, I tripped and fell face-first into it, and was further surprised that the snow was dryer and less cold that I expected. I picked myself up and made my way to the mailbox, where I discovered that while the parking lot had no snow, it was as slippery as ice. I could only cross it by hanging on to various cars while making my way.

I wanted to go to the convenience store, which was in another section of the apartment complex. Fortunately, a pickup truck passed me and I was able to grab the rear bed handle, skating behind it while it made its way uphill. Once it was close to where I wanted to go, I saw that it intended to turn away from my direction, so I removed my hand from the handle. My hand was stuck pretty fast, but I managed to loosen it by grabbing onto another parked car. That car started swerving on the ice dangerously, so I abandoned it quickly and made my way slowly to the convenience store.

The entrance to the store was very narrow, and it had an odd step attached with a cable, so I had a hard time clambering aboard. As I was about to heft myself up, and old lady appeared who wanted to get down. I went to the other entrance and as I hoisted myself up, she said good-naturedly that it was certainly difficult to discover which entrance was which.

Once in the store they had little that I wanted, so I bought a pair of snow-mobiles instead. I turned them on, fitted them with tarpaulins so that the snow wouldn't fill them, and was preparing to take them home when a bright headlight shone in my face. At first I thought it was from one of the snow-mobiles, so I shut them both off, but the light was still there. I tried to look past it and saw it was from a station wagon right in front of me.

"I think he will do," came a woman's voice from inside. She stepped out, followed by a man about her age. They were an attractive couple, she tall and blonde, he handsome with a slight growth of beard.

They told me that, because of the weather, there were some people in need and would I be willing to help them? Noting the difficulty I'd had getting around, I agreed though I said I would like to stop by my apartment first.

There, I put the snowmobiles into storage by shrinking them to the size of thimbles, and I grabbed an orange shoe box full of tools I thought I might need. The couple were very impressed by my shrinking abilities.

On the drive there, nothing much was said. I checked over the tools. Finally, as we turned into a muddy driveway, the woman said lightly, "You probably think we're members of some cult that are going to sacrifice you."

I wasn't sure how to answer that, so I just sort of chuckled. She laughed and said, "Don't worry about it. You're with us."

We stopped in front of a large house that seemed very old, and in some spots, very much in need of repair. It was very poorly lit inside, and the corridor inside seemed to have wet mud all over the floor, so it was hard to walk around without getting my feet wet. I plugged one of my tools into a nearby socket to test it while the couple went on ahead. I had just taken some readings when the woman called to me from futher up the corridor. I went quickly forward and, realizing I hadn't unplugged my tool, I yanked on the cord. It came loose, but it also tore the socket off.

I peered around one door. Inside was a vast mudbath, filled with gigantic prone figures. They were round and fat and most of them were featureless. One near the front had a soundless, screaming face. There were various attendees who were slathering them with mud, using mops and I realized then that the figures were actually alive, in some sort of pupal stage.

"Don't go in there, that's the women's room," the woman who had brought me said. "Come along, this way," and she led me further into the house. The walls got darker and more aged, though the floor was somewhat drier now.

"Wait," she told me and she pressed herself against the nearest wall, motioning me to follow suit. I did so, and watched as a number of robed and hooded figures filed past. Some of them were carrying wrapped bundles, and as one struggled briefly to adjust his to a more comfortable angle, a flap fell open on the bundle and I saw the vacant, staring face of a child. The child was either dead or drugged, and my increasing nervousness became more acute.

I sidled my way against the wall, back down where I hoped I had come in. But as the corridors changed, becoming lighter and drier, it was obvious I was lost inside that house. I crept my way as best I could, occasionally glancing inside some of the rooms I passed. Most of them were dark, but one was well-lit and seemed to be some kind of meeting area. The floor here was richly carpeted and there were tapestries hanging around the walls. In the center, a person obviously in authority was listening carefully to another couple. These two were older than the ones who had brought me to the house.

They were explaining that, when they had brought another couple to be sacrificed, before they were able to feed the bodies properly into the house, the woman had given birth. This couple had kept the child as their own and raised her accordingly. They were asking that the child's sacrifice, due that night, be indefinitely postponed, as they were very fond of her, and thought she might be useful in other ways.

Now thoroughly alarmed, I slipped from the room and made my way back down the corridor. Again, they shifted confusingly and I was never certain whether I was nearing the exit or going further into danger. Finally, my foot encountered a wet, muddy floor and I knew I was near the exit.