I turned. I was staring down a long, narrow tunnel. The ceiling was low, and a series of wood and metal tracks were laid out on the ground — as if for a cart of some kind.
Far at the end of the tunnel, a little light glowed. It seemed to float in the air as the voice called again, “Move it, Lawson. Boss says we’re heading down to the new level.”
Dread knotted up in my stomach, but I couldn’t be sure why. I trudged forward, my body feeling heavy and clumsy, unfamiliar. I looked down — leather boots, stiff jeans, some kind of thick overalls —
I wasn’t me...this wasn’t me...this wasn’t my body.
I followed the light, bouncing slowly ahead of me. I could just barely see the outline of the man who held it: big, bearded, a pickaxe looped through his belt and tapping at his leg as he walked.
“Ya’ know that level ain’t stable.” My tongue moved, my voice produced that sound but – it wasn’t my voice. It was gruff, deep and unfamiliar. “Smells down there too. Like dead fish.”
“Leighman don’t care about that now, does he?” The voice ahead chuckled. “He’ll be down there today. Thinks the boys found a new vein. All hands on it.”
The tunnel was coming to an end. A structure of bare wooden boards was suspended over a deep, dark shaft, and the man I was following stepped onto it, the wood groaning under his weight. I couldn’t stop my own feet; I was merely along for the ride as I stepped onto the platform beside him. My stomach sank at the knowledge of what lay below — nothing but deep, endless darkness.
The ancient elevator jolted as my companion yanked back a lever. “Down we go.”
Down...down...down. In my peripheral, the man stood silently. I desperately wanted to see his face, but it was too deep in shadow. “Ain’t got a good feeling about today, Kynes.”
He nodded. “Aye. I’m with ye’.”
He lifted his lantern a little higher, and finally, my head turned. But instead of a face, the man who stood beside me in the lift was utterly blank. No eyes. No mouth. No nose. Nothing. As if his flesh was clay, smoothed over and forgotten.
I wanted to scream. I wasn’t supposed to be here. This was all wrong. Dreaming...yes, of course, I had to be dreaming, I had to be —
Something cold hit my face, and I looked up. Water...water was dripping from above...and the smell of brine, of stagnant sea water, of fish lying beached in the sun —
I awoke with a jolt, gasping, trying to gulp down enough air to fight off the sensation of drowning. I was lying in bed, the pale light of day spilling in the gap in my curtains. I got up shakily to push the curtains back, my bare feet cold on the floor as I looked out on a rainy morning.
It was just a dream. It had only been a dream.
Then why had it felt like a memory?
I agreed to meet up with Inaya and Victoria for lunch over the weekend. Leon was still sleeping like the dead, and it felt odd to leave him alone at home. I wasn’t sure if it was normal for a demon to sleep for so long, but I wasn’t going to try waking him up. Victoria was running late, so Inaya and I got a table at a little cafe serving Sunday brunch, a corner seat near the window where we could watch the rain.
“We should watch Midsommar,” Inaya said, as we sipped mimosas and planned our next movie night. “Or maybe we should start with some classics and go for The Exorcist.”
“You know I’m always down for Friedkin’s genius,” I said. The mimosas here were bottomless: lucky for me, because I’d already entirely downed one. I was restless, and a little desperate, and I’d hoped getting out of the house would help, but it hadn’t done much yet. “We could get wine drunk and watch Hocus Pocus after.”
“Oooh, yes, girl, I’ll bring this new Pinot I tried. It’s so good. It’s honestly a crime I haven’t come over for a visit yet. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” I laughed. “The place has been a mess anyway.” A mess...besieged by monsters, currently hosting a sleeping demon...yeah, it wasn’t fit for visitors. I was still contemplating if I should insist on having the movie night at her apartment — considering I had no idea when Leon would