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By Shane Briant

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Sample text

Major couldn’t breathe—he was stunned. WO R S T N I G H T M A R E S 39 That voice—where had he heard it before? Oh, sweet Jesus! That crazy website! The link to that freaky dream guy! The creepy graveled voice! Seconds passed. The wind was picking up substantially and it was about to rain. He sobbed some more, craning his bloated purple face to try to identify the source of the voice. “Where are you? You’ve got to help or I’ll drown. I’m up here . ” His voice trailed off. With no one around for miles, he realized that the source of the voice could only be the sick bastard who had put him in this predicament in the first place.

Neela smiled, and it made Dermot ease into a smile himself. “Maybe I’m making too much of it. Maybe I’m just dumb,” he said, relaxing a little, at the same time pulling Neela into his lap. C H A PTE R A 8 t first Major was aware only of the terrible pressure in his head and an intense localized pain where the club had sliced through the skin on his face, separating his cheekbone from the rest of his skull. Trying to figure out where he was, all he could feel was disorientation and confusion. Why was everything upside down?

The Dream Healer smiled. Original. ” I try to reach down and that’s when I see I don’t have arms, either. I am just a blob—a torso with a head. ” The Dream Healer gazed at Wanda’s grotesque face. “And let me guess . . ” Her tone was desperate. ” “Exactly! ” “I am the Dream Healer, my dear. I know these things. ” “Before you go to sleep each night, you must say out loud: ‘I am who I am. I have two legs and two arms. ’” Wanda repeated the words exactly. “Very good.

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