The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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It was a dream

Sue wanted to floor it, to ram down the gas pedal and not look back. But I said no, these were people we loved. We didn't know what had happened to them, what had been done, and whether we could save them. So we ran, but the ghouls just kept coming. They clambered over the car we'd just abandoned; my mother, my brother, my best friend. Their eyes were blank, lifeless, and their faces full of malice. I looked back at them with despair, not for my life but for theirs. These were no animated corpses, but living things; not undead yet somehow not entirely alive. Perhaps I looked a little too long, because I almost collided with a stranger. He stared down the ghouls, defiant in black jeans and a leather jacket. "Run!" we shouted, but he just stood there. "No, you have no reason to fear," he said coolly. "I know what causes this." His smile was so warm that, for a moment, we thought we were saved. "They are not dead," he confirmed, "merely without souls." He produced three colorful plastic mirrors and the ghouls recoiled in horror, mere yards from where we stood. "Their souls are trapped within these mirrors," he said. "As long as I hold them, they will not harm us." We were relieved. But as the ghouls stared into the mirrors, something started to happen. Frail wisps began drifting from their cool glassy surfaces towards the ghouls. The stranger's composure lapsed for the briefest second before he brought his fist down on the three mirrors in his hand, shattering them, and the souls within, forever. We were saved. Horribly, terribly saved.
Tags: dreams, story time

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