Do You See What I See?

I awoke to a very calm, swaying motion. I wriggled my toes slightly. My feet weren’t touching the ground. Then I noticed the cold. With a horrible jolt my first thought was that dead people were carrying me again. But then I realized that the large, rough hands holding me were solid, not rotting, and there was no smell of decay, it was a sweet, rosewood and rosemary smell, deliciously cold with a faint touch of burning paper. And either way, the dead hadn’t carried me like this; they had carried me like you would a board, except there had been four of them holding each arm and each leg so that I had been stretched out like a plank of wood; also, I had been carried roughly, not softly, barely touching the person who was carrying me. I knew it was a man. Who else would have hands that rough and over-large? Then I realized who must have been carrying me. Salem.
I shifted slightly, and his arms shifted with me. I realized he was unconsciously accommodating to weight, so that I wouldn’t fall while he ran. Not that I could have, clasped in his iron grasp.
I felt a bit nauseous, thinking about how he had been fighting those dead things and wondered whether he had (if possible) more blood on him. The thought made me want to barf. I willed myself to sleep again, because I was so tired, (and because I would rather like to think about something else) but my body wouldn’t respond to my persuading. It stubbornly laid there, not a single change happening, so I had to settle with closing my eyes and pretending I was sleeping. I didn’t know why I wanted Salem to think I was asleep. I just did.
I had a feeling I was a bit scared of him. Anything that could overpower the dead (even if their bodies were frail they sure as hell were strong) was otherworldly. I wondered vacantly if he was from another world. I wondered if he was dead. If he were, it would be another stage of dead wouldn’t it? He would have to be half-alive though. Vampire-like. If vampires were real, he would have to be one. I hoped that he didn’t see me as food.
Suddenly, I felt the air rush through my hair and for a sickening moment I knew we had left the ground. There was a loud thump and I opened my eyes to small slits to see my bedroom. Salem was standing precariously on my windowsill. I closed my eyes again. Salem’s feet were a quiet patting on the floor as he walked someplace. I felt him gently tip me onto my bed and put my blanket over me. Then, there was silence. I decided not to open my eyes in case he was still there, but settled with merely moving my right arm into a more comfortable position. I remembered how before he had told me that the ‘Spinner monkeys’ wouldn’t come again tonight, and then how he had left me alone. He was right about one thing. The spinner monkeys hadn’t come again, but instead decapitated grandparents had come, on Halloween, no less.
I decided that it really didn’t matter whether or not if he was there. I snuggled my head into my pillow and turned so I was half on my stomach and half on my hip. It was an uncomfortable position for anyone except me; I found it quite comfortable. I finally felt myself sinking away into darkness.

****

I was walking through a maze, vaguely wondering where I was and why I was here. I continued walking, not in the least bit intimidated by the towering, menacing hedges all around me. I didn’t even care. I had a bubbling sort of feeling of excitement and the buzzing that you feel when you know something good is about to happen. The maze seemed to go on eternally, I felt like I was floating. I heard nothing but silence, there was no wind, no birds, and no sound. My feet padded silently across the wet, cool dirt. Finally I reached a turn. It turned right into an even more overgrown and darker tunnel than before. I named them tunnels because the sky was dark and dark can be; there was neither moon nor stars. And yet I could still see. I began walking briskly down the tunnel, without any hesitations. The feeling of elatedness and excitement poured out of me, the joyous feeling of learning something real, something important, something just out of my reach, something at the end of the tunnel…
I pushed my way through the brambles and brushed leaves and debris out of my way in annoyance. Time was a precious thing to me. I kept going ferociously until suddenly I stopped. There it was. It was an arch in the hedge, an opening, and through it golden light poured out. I stared at it awed. It beckoned invitingly, friendly, innocently and most of all its light was warm. It was beautiful. I walked towards it, dazed, and was about to stop just outside the golden light, not wishing to proceed, preferring to stand and watch it all day, when I tripped over a branch and fell into the light. The fall was slow, and then I slammed into the ground hard. But it didn’t matter. I was in the light. I was invincible. I was perfect. I was magical. And would be even more so if I just looked straight into the light and saw what made the shimmering warmth. I turned around slowly to face it…
And my joyous manner was blown out like a light bulb blowing; all invincibility vanishing.
My emotions were immediately taken over by horror and fear; the light disappeared and I was sucked into pure darkness. I felt my knees slam into wet grass. I could see again, but it wasn’t something I wanted to see.
I was in the graveyard again and the chaos hadn’t ceased the screaming so loud that it hurt my eardrums.
I felt a slimy, cold and bony hand holding my hair tightly. It was ripped abruptly so that I was forced to stare at the stars, making me cry out in pain. I could see the corpse clearly now. It was half skeleton and half skin and flesh. Disgust and terror lashed out at me. Its skull was grotesque, looking very much as if he had been bitten repeatedly in the head by vampires and then had that same side burned in hot oil. The melted bone did little to stop the corpse to give me a wide smile. It made a sudden movement, making me cringe until I realized that it was pointing at a tombstone behind the grave. A large piece of cardboard had been nailed to the tombstone and obscured all view of the writing on the tombstone, so I had no clue who this guy HAD been.
But what really got me was that the cardboard had been written on clumsily with charcoal. I read it then went as white as a sheet. The corpse watched my reaction and gave a creaking laugh. Then, before I understood what had happened, it hurled me head first into the pit. Falling…falling…

“Hayley! HAYLEY!” I felt someone slap me around the face. My screaming turned to a squeal of pain. My eyes popped open. The first thing I realized was that I was not dead, and secondly that Salem’s face was about an inch from my own.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” I screamed, still not over the shock of the dream. He recoiled to the end of the bed, his curious completely-yellow eyes (except for the pupils) searching around the room as if for an escape, looking very upset and anxious.
“I-I am sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you! I-um, I-I haven’t been around people for so long…I forgot…sorry.” He finished with a whisper.
I immediately felt guilty. This guy had saved my worthless arse twice and I was yelling at him. I could tell he meant his best…But, well; it’s not exactly a picnic to wake up from a horrible nightmare and find another ‘monster’ –so stricken- and inch from your face.
“Um…How long have you been…err…not…human?” I asked attentively.
“Three hundred years approximately.” He said in a dull, low voice, his blood stained lips turned down in an expression of utmost sadness and loneliness. I felt sorry for him. I was making things worse. I was reminding him of humans. I owed him. I wondered for a moment what I could do to make it up to him. I mean, he had saved my life and my da-
I froze, staring into space.
“Where is my dad?!” I screeched hoarsely.
He didn’t answer, instead preferred to cross his legs and play with a hole in the quilt.
“Where. Is. He?!” I asked in a dangerous tone through gritted teeth.
“He’s recovering at the hospital. Other humans weren’t so lucky.” He replied, seeing that it was obviously impossible to argue with me unless he wanted to kill me.
“Where are the dead?”
“Back in the dirt & asleep except for three that got away. Dmitry and Rhyan are trying to find them.” Answered Salem in his dull tone.
I was quiet for a moment. I decided that I should apologize for my behavior.
“I’m sorry.” I half whispered.
“It’s fine.” He said, a little more color in his voice this time. I nodded absentmindedly. Suddenly out of nowhere, the dead corpse leered into my minds eye, and I went white once more.
“Are you alright Hayley?” He asked, looking at me, a bit concerned. “You don’t look so good…”
“You should take a look in the mirror, bloody boardman.” I said, joking feebly. In truth I felt sick. I needed to do something to stop thinking about it. Read or something. I grabbed a book off my bedside table and began trying to absorb into the story. It wasn’t working. Salem had chuckled at my little joke and then turned away again. A few minutes later after my fervent reading, he said: “So, what actually was happening while you were asleep? I came in through the window and thought you were having a seizure.”
I felt the strain melt away as if my body had been waiting for this. I could tell someone who would believe me. Someone who wouldn’t think I was crazy. So I launched into the tale, not leaving one thing out, Salem listening with rapt attention. When I got to the part about the cardboard sign however, he sucked in a breath and asked what it said.
“Salve Sorore; enumera astra.” I said. And without further ado, I burst into tears and wouldn’t and couldn’t stop.