A Disturbing Dream

Again, I'm interrupting my adventures in hell to bring you other news:

I had a horrible terrible nightmare last night. It was so visceral. So real.

I was 12 again, and I was outside in a dark wood. A man much resembling Wadsworth approached from the forest. When he looked at me I felt small, insignificant, and frightened. He walked closer leaning slightly on a black and silver cane. I tried to shrink back from him, but found that I could not move. When he was close the man bowed stiffly and locked his gaze on me. I could see disdain burning in his eyes.

“I am Walters,” he said. His voice was firm, cryptic, and aloof. “I have been sent to fetch you.”

Lightning flashed and the wood was gone. Before us there was an enormous building that I immediately recognized as the mansion house, but it was old, crumbling, and decayed. The lawns had gone to seed and the hedges were full of long sharp thorns. Here I’d like to mention I have a favorite hedge sculpture at the mansion.  In reality, it is trimmed to resemble Abraham Lincoln patting a large squirrel on the head. In the dream it was Hitler throttling a rabbit.

In my dream Walters walked up the path to the house, waggling his fingers at me. I didn’t want to go, but behind me I heard howling and a scream. Swallowing I followed Walters. At the door I looked inside without entering. The interior was decorated in deep black colors complimented by red velvet trimmings. Most of the furniture was covered with black sheets and cobwebs ran rampant.

As I timidly crossed the threshold the ancient doors (which were iron rather than oak) swung shut with a bang, clipping my heals. I heard the deadbolts lock of their own accord. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Walters turned and lifted an eyebrow. There was a hint of amusement on his face.  Then he turned, waggling his fingers at me again. I followed him past the cold unlit fireplace of the grand foyer and up the great stairs to the door of Uncle Nick's study. It was black and foreboding. Walters stepped back and gestured at the door. I turned the knob and peered inside. One glance was enough to make me shriek and jump back in fear. A blody altar of bones sat atop a scrawled chalk pentagram.

Walters calmly pushed me inside and slammed the door behind me. I pounded against the door, yelling in fright as Walters dryly intoned, "We do hope you enjoy your stay, sir. Please call should you need anything."

I heard deep resounding laughter behind me and spun around to see a skull hovering over the alter its eyes were aflame.

I woke up then, cold and sweating. I leapt from my bed clambered up on my dresser and yelled into the vent, "Beezle! What the heck are you doing?"

"FUS ROH DAH," said the vent and I was blasted backward, thankfully landing on the bed. "Beezle," I hollered not missing a beat, "Stay out of my dreams!"

"I USED TO INFLUENCE DREAMS LIKE YOURS," said the vent, "BUT THEN I TOOK AN ARROW IN THE KNEE."

"Beezle! I'm serious! Stay out of my head!"

"AND I'M BEING SERIOUS. I WISH WITH ALL MY BLACK HEART THAT I COULD HAVE  EXPERIENCED WHATEVER TORTUOUS FANTASIES YOU ENJOYED LAST NIGHT - THOUGH I DOUBT THAT MY ENJOYMENT OF YOUR AGONY WOULD COMPARE MUCH WITH THE THRILL OF OFFING THE KEEPER OF AN ORPHANAGE. WHICH I AM ABOUT TO JOYOUSLY DO, THANK YOU VERY MUCH."

Truth be told, Skyrim is the best game that ever happened to me. Not just because it's a great game, but because it keeps Beezle occupied. He can't spend more than a few hours away from it at a time, and the occasional dovahkiin shout through the vents is more than worth the peace I get throughout the rest of the day.  I hope some DLC comes out soon, so that I can release it to Beezle in manageable trickles.

I was disturbed by Beezle's reaction though. It’s not like him to NOT claim something like this. He’d have been proud of it, would have drawn out his victory by taunting me. I supposed that it was possible to have a bad dream without Beezle’s help, but it didn't seem likely. There was a knock at my door, interrupting my thoughts. "Lord Secrest?" came Wadsworth's soothing voice, "Are you alright?"

I blushed. I hadn't meant to wake Wadsworth. He does enough already without being shouted awake in the middle of the night. "I just had a bad dream, that's all," I called through the door.

"Ah. Perhaps a cup of something warm would help settle the nerves? Shall I fetch you something?"

"No thanks. I'm okay. You can go back to bed."

"Very good, sir. Please, don’t hesitate to wake me should you change your mind."

I lay back down and tried to think pleasant calming thoughts. I was almost asleep when the vent bellowed, "WHAT? SHE'S EVIL? HOW CAN I IN GOOD CONSCIOUS KILL THE ABUSIVE CARETAKER OF AN ORPHANAGE? IS THIS MANDATORY IF I WANT TO JOIN THE DARK BROTHERHOOD? IT CAN’T BE. THAT WOULD BE CRUEL."

I smiled and let myself fall into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.