Page 1 of The Nightmare King

Prologue

SOMETHING WICKED

Halloween was the one time of year when everyone looked as crazed and weird on the outside as I felt on the inside year-round. That’s why it was my favorite holiday and why I stumbled through an overcast maze of pumpkins. My friends had long abandoned me, and the autumn chill froze through my flannel as I wove through the stacks of orange gourds. How they were all balanced so perfectly and kept growing larger and larger, I didn’t stop to question.

Thunder clapped in the distance, though no raindrops fell. Dread crept into my psyche as I rubbed my arms for warmth. Suddenly, I felt truly and disturbingly alone. Hoping I was going the right way, I turned a corner, pushing past the corn stalks interspersed within the maze, and reached a clearing— the center of the maze.

A long figure stood abnormally tall and looming as the sky grew dark behind him. Black against orange, the perfect and most terrifying Halloween scene.

He stood on a thick, skeletal body, haphazardly draped in torn fabric, and cocked his pumpkin head. “Well, look at that. I found you.”

I swallowed my scream and turned to run, but the path behind me had closed.

Shutting my eyes as tightly as I could, I hoped and prayed the darkness would offer some sort of escape. To my horror, I felt his warm breath on the back of my ear and smelt cinnamon and pumpkin spice as he whispered. “Time to wake up. Time to let go.”

That sequence would repeat itself for weeks before I even became aware that it was a dream. Once I finally caught on, the fear never left but I began to talk to the pumpkin man… and he talked back.

It was the beginning and the end of everything.

Another night just like the others. The crow cawed. Thunder clapped. I reached the end of the maze, and he pulled me into his embrace. Only now, through the fear there was a strange comfort. I recognized his violet gaze when he stroked a bone finger over my cheek. There was this form, and there was the man form. I liked them both. I liked any nightmare where he found me.

That’s the thing about becoming aware of your dreams as you’re inside them, though, you become startlingly aware that they’ll end at any moment.

This is the tragic beginning of my end.

Chapter

One

SLEEPER

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, that thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, and steep my senses in forgetfulness?

William Shakespeare

Halloween was the one time of year when everyone looked as crazed and weird on the outside as I felt on the inside year-round. That’s why it was my favorite holiday and why I stumbled through an overcast maze of pumpkins. My friends had long abandoned me, and the autumn chill froze through my flannel as I wove through the stacks of orange gourds. How they were all balanced so perfectly and kept growing larger and larger, I didn’t stop to question.

Thunder clapped in the distance, though no raindrops fell.

Oh, here we go again.

Trepidation crept into my being as I rubbed my arms for warmth. Suddenly knew I wasn’t alone. I knew I was going the right way, I turned a corner, pushing past the corn stalks interspersed within the maze, and reached a clearing— the center of the maze where I knew I’d find him.

A long figure stood abnormally tall and looming as the sky grew dark behind him. Black against orange, the perfect and most terrifying Halloween scene.

He stood on a thick, skeletal body, haphazardly draped in torn fabric, and cocked his pumpkin head. “Well, I found you again.”

I swallowed my scream and turned to run, but the path behind me had closed.

Shutting my eyes as tightly as I could, I hoped and prayed the darkness would offer some sort of escape. To my horror, I felt his warm breath on the back of my ear and smelt cinnamon and pumpkin spice as he whispered. “Time to wake up. Time to let go.”

The crow cawed. Thunder clapped. I reached the end of the maze, and he pulled me into his embrace. Only now, through the fear there was a strange comfort. I recognized his violet gaze when he stroked a bone finger over my cheek. There was this form, and there was the man form. I liked them both. I liked any nightmare where he found me. That’s the thing about becoming aware of your dreams as you’re inside them, though. You become startlingly aware that they’ll end at any moment.

“You aren’t real!” I bellowed into the fog of the maze.

In a flash of dark shadow, the back of his palm smacked my cheek. My teeth chattered, and my skin burned from the contact. Shock and horror bolted through me. His gaze was a hateful mix of passion and anger as something in his jaw ticked.

Pain was a new addition to the same nightmare.

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