The Nightmare (The Mist #2) - Regine Abel Page 0,10

are divided in two groups: the Wishes and the Nightmares,” Thomson continued. “If you desire something strongly enough and dream of it with sufficient intensity and frequency, your Wish may become aware and then deliberately seek to communicate with you. But the same applies to your greatest fears if they haunt you often enough at night. The majority of the creatures you saw outside the Observatory were frequent dreams, but only a handful of the Mistwalkers become sentient. Those were the ones following their creators around the room, the same way your Zain was shadowing you.”

“And you're assuming he's a Nightmare because of his violent attack on that Cthulhu Beast?” I asked.

“Yes,” Director Thomson said with a nod.

“But what do they want?” I asked, still struggling to accept this as reality.

“It all depends on what you wished or feared,” Thomson said with a shrug. “Wishes will always seek to do something beneficial to you. Children, especially bullied ones, wish for a true friend and protector so that they're not so alone or mistreated. Adults will often hope for someone that can get them out of whatever their greatest hardship is about. However, most of them are pushing for the perfect life partner,” he added with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

“Like a spouse?” I asked, my eyes bulging with disbelief. “How is that even supposed to work? Ghost sex?” I froze as a thought straight out of crazy town crossed my mind. “Don’t tell me that the lore on Succubi and Incubi comes from Mistwalkers?!”

Thomson burst out laughing. “Actually, I wasn’t going to say that, although it does partially apply. Mistwalkers feed on emotions and the lifeforce of others. When they mate with a human, sex is the best non-lethal way for them to acquire the energy needed to fuel their power.”

“But they’re made of smoke!” I argued.

“Smoke that taunted you by tapping on the window and clawing at the glass,” Thomson deadpanned.

That shut me up.

“Have you heard about the Thornhill Killer?” he suddenly asked.

I recoiled, taken aback by this abrupt change of topic. “Who hasn’t?” I asked. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“The images I'm about to show you are very disturbing,” Thomson said, ignoring my question. “After that, what I'm about to tell you is the main reason for the existence of the Fourth Division and of the program you're currently being interviewed for. If any of this became public, there would be complete panic and chaos in every major city in the world. We are currently in a race against the clock that could determine the place of humanity in the food chain.”

Those ominous words were my only warning before he handed me a folder with a huge, red ‘confidential’ slapped on top. Heart pounding, I hesitated, knowing that once I opened it, a line would be crossed, and my life would change in a way that could never be undone.

Fingers slightly shaking, I flipped the cover open and was relieved to see the normal portrait of a pretty young woman named Emily Gates. She had been the first alleged victim of the serial killer of the Thornhill borough. Below, a standard form provided general details about her: date of birth, address, education, employment, contacts and relatives, and a summary of the date and place her body was found. When I flipped to the next page, a horrified gasp rose for my throat. I closed my eyes and jerked my face left, wishing to unsee the desiccated remains of the lovely young female she had once been.

If not for her dress and the handful of long strands of hair still attached to her skull, she could have been the twin of Jared’s dried up remains. Taking a few deep breaths to regain my composure, I forced myself to turn back to the folder. As I flipped through the pages, the same pattern repeated itself. Each and every one of the victims found sucked dry of their lifeforce.

And yet, none of this matched up.

“That’s not possible,” I argued, shaking my head in denial. “A couple of these cases were filed a day or two after the end of the Mist. So, I’ll buy that. But the others occurred well over a week after it. This last one took place less than four days before the following Mist. The Beasts and Walkers turn to ashes as soon as the Mist recedes if they are still in our dimension. How would that be possible?”

A glimmer of approval

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