Alma's Dreams (are Default) [An Eldritch Thriller]

The sun was beginning to set on the snowy apartment resting comfortably in the small town of the large country of Malachias. The merry holiday of Descension Day had arrived. The day that commemorated the day Macha had descended and spread her love throughout the country. Of course, this also coincided with the global holiday of Koltide—named after the god most others believed in. And there was also Fadraniht, which the elfwin celebrated, a festive holiday in which their all-powerful Trifather would bestow gifts to all elfwin who were deemed nice that year. Very many celebrations from all over brought folk together to laugh and love and share when they otherwise wouldn't have.

Through one of the many large, frozen windows could be seen the warm atmospheric pressure of domestic joyitude. A state of gaiety was in effect all around the premises. Festive decorations and tables weighted down with entrees and snacks filled the rooms, along with a plethora of gifts to family and friends and the poor orphans down the block. A very merry cacophony of people of all kinds were currently enjoying the time of the season, when the festive love runs high.

Just outside the door to this lovely abode stood the young soldier Alma Mesel, along with her traveling companions Hwalín and Qu'l-Nia, waiting patiently with gifts in hand for the owner of the apartment—the celebrated one who went to all this trouble—to answer their door.

The entryway opened with a creak and standing on the other side of that doorway was none other than the dutiful sniper's own sister, Zulema Mesel. They had all come together to celebrate their respective, and oddly-similar, holidays this year.

"Alma," called her sister. "Did you bring it?"

"Why, dear sister," replied Alma. "I've got it right here."

Alma holds up a cheap, store-bought bottle of wine.

"Oh, goodness yes!" cried Zula as she grabbed the vice-filled container from her sister's hand. "Your entrance fee is accepted!"

Alma then raised her other hand which held a different colored bottle and grinned. "I also bought a little holiday whiskey for me."

"Yer gonna share, right, Alm?" asked Hwalín.

"Uhhh…" Alma skirted the question, avoiding eye contact and mumbling to herself.

Zulema laughed, the antics of her sister were a sorely missed sight after being apart for a while.

"Alma," said Qu'l-Nia. "It seems there runs a streak of alcoholism in your family. Is the state of perpetual inebriation really so enticing?"

"You should try a swig yourself. You could use some loosening up. Wait, can you get drunk even?"

"Intoxication is very much possible with this body, yes. But that matters little when the flavor holds no pleasures for me."

"Well, at least I know Hwal won't leave me hanging—" Alma smiled before quickly realizing the bottle in her hand had vanished.

"Where did—?" Alma glanced over at Hwalín who was already halfway through chugging down her bottle of whiskey. Her voice came out in a pitiful whine, "Hey, that was mine…"

Hwalín, still chugging, walked over to a table at the end of the room that held a neat row of champagne glasses.

"Boy, she sure'll drink anything with a hint of alcohol in it."

"Alma!" cried a familiar someone from the kitchen before stepping out into the living room. It was the witch Heloise, wearing a fluffy, pink sweater with an even fluffier neckline. "Figured you'd be here so I invited myself. Your sister didn't seem to mind. Actually, she didn't seem surprised at all."

"Heli?" asked the confused Alma. "My sister let you in? I thought she said she'd never forgive you after you turned her hair blonde in an attempt to help her 'land a man.'"

"Sheesh! It's the holidays, girl! We let bygones be bye-slash-gone. Besides, doesn't look like she needed my help in the end." Heloise pointed to Zulema, who was mingling with some of her other guests. Most were her fellow priestesses from the church, but among them was a strange looking person that Alma couldn't quite make out.

"Doesn't there seem to be something off about him?" Alma squinted, trying to focus her eyes on the stranger in her sister's living room. No matter how much she stared at him, his face never seemed to come completely into focus. He was standing out among the crowd, yet no one seemed to be paying him any extra mind.

"Ugh, the only thing off are these snacks your sister put out. Like, are they even low-fat? Wait. They are organic, right?"

"No, I'm serious. He seems… off."

The man standing with Zula seemed like a normal fellow at first glance. Nice formal suit befitting that of a typical gentleman. He wore it well. Aside from his face, he didn't seem to have any noticeable health problems. A perfect build with a perfect posture and with the way everyone seemed to fondle his every word, he probably had a silver tongue too. And if that wasn't enough, her sister was actually locked in arms with him. Never before has anyone creeped Alma out as much as this man.

"Thought you hated Zula being single. You suddenly jelly now?"

"I'm… gonna go over there."

"What?! That's it? No 'Heli I missed you so much!'? I traveled all this way for you. At least spend some time with me."

Alma frowned. "Y-Youre right. Sorry, Heli. It's been so rough lately. With all the…"

Her voice trailed off. Another strange feeling began to assault her.

"Huh? All the what? You're supposed to finish your sentences, sweetie."

"I can't remember. I was… searching for someone. Someone I… you. It was you I was searching for."

"Well you found me, ma meuf." The witch smiled. "Not that you had to look very hard. You know you can't lose me so easily. "

"Right… Yeah. What am I saying? It's you! I've, uh… I've missed you a lot, Heli. I'm really sorry about our last fight. I'm sorry for hurting you."

"You think you're capable of hurting me? Ha! Ha! Water under the bridge, Alma." Heloise came in close and hugged Alma tight.

Alma blushed. She wrapped her arms around Heloise. "Really? You'd forgive me just like that?"

"I'd forgive you for just about anything."

For a moment, a feeling of extreme elation filled Alma's soul. It was as if the terrifyingly huge weight of guilt had finally lifted off of her shoulders. There had been no doubt in her min that she would eventually make up with her best friend again—they wouldn't have come as far as they had together otherwise. The fleeting sensation had caused her to temporarily forget all about the strange person intimately mingling with her sister. Yet, as she caught up with her old friend, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread. The kind that comes from a predatory gaze boring into the back of her skull. She turned slowly and from the corner of her vision, she caught a glimpse of him watching her. The creeping feeling bubbled up to the surface, becoming almost unbearable. She had the sudden urge to break into a sprint toward the door.

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"Hm? Something wrong?" the witch asked concernedly, bringing the ex-soldier back to reality.

"Huh?!" A startled Alma jerked her head back toward Heloise before timidly glancing toward the stranger once again. From the periphery of her sidelong glance, she tried and failed to distinguish any of the details on his featureless blob of a face.

"N-No. It's nothing, Heli." She looked back toward her friend, attempting to ignore unnerving feeling by continuing the long awaited reunion with her best friend. "So... How've you been? I want to hear about everything you did that I missed over the past year."

"Oh, trust me. I've got stories." The smug witch bragged as if this were a good thing. But as the witch gabbed on, Alma could only feel the same uncomfortable feeling squirming in the back of her mind. She clenched her first, nails digging painfully into her palm. At the moment, it was all she could do not to scream her head off. Her eyes squeezed shut trying hard to shake the feeling, only for a bout of dizziness to answer back.

She had to do something.

"Gimme a minute, will you?" said Alma, smiling awkwardly. "I gotta go check on my sis real quick."

But as she was turning to leave, a sudden tug on her sleeve stopped her in her tracks. Heloise's dainty fingers were gripping on tightly.

"Alma, where do you think you're going? It's paying-attention-to-me time." The witch smiled as bright as the sun.

"Just, uh... real quick. Come on, Heli. Let go. It's important."

The witch's happy expression took a sudden nosedive into a distorted grimace.

"More important than me, huh? You're going to abandon me again, just like that, is that it? I really matter that little to you? Your so-called best friend? Your raison d'être?"

"Heli, what's gotten into you? You're being bitchier than usual. And not in that usual girl-boss kind of way."

"Alma." The witch's eyes—flared by glittering mascara—seemed to almost glow with rage.

"O-Okay. Relax. I won't go anywhere. Would you mind getting us some drinks then? I'm gonna need more alcohol to keep my mind off of things."

"Totally!" The witch's frightening countenance instantly shifted back to a smile. "Then you and I can spend all night chatting together."

As the witch skipped off towards the refreshments, Alma hastily snuck away to find her sister.

"Zula!" Alma finally closed in, hands raised in mock surprise. "Dear sister! Who might this be you have your arm around? Someone you should've introduced to me almost immediately?"

"Alma?" Zula cocked her head in confusion. "What do you mean? You've met ███████. We've been seeing each other for weeks!"

The ex-soldier's feeling of unease shot unsteadily upwards. Zula had just said something strange. Not just her comment, but something so subtly out of place that someone without a heightened sense of tension might have just waved off. Alma turned toward her sister's date and attempted to look at the man's face again, only for something to prevent her from seeing it clearly, even at such a close distance. Was there some kind of mental block trying to protect her sanity? It felt sickeningly similar to trying to recall the memory of a word that stuck to the tip of one's tongue but refused to dive off.

"It's not nice to stare," said Zula beratingly. "I'm sure you'll find your own ███████ someday. Maybe once you've cleaned up your act a little."

Alma gawked at her sister. "...What did you say his name was?"

"███████? Did you seriously forget in the timespan of a few seconds?! I finally meet someone and you can't even bother to memorize his name? What in the world's wrong with you tonight, Alma? Were the drinks too strong?"

"Wha—I…" She stared at her sister's "lover" once again. Things felt less and less natural the more she stood in his abnormal presence. Everything around him felt out of place. It was more like the man was an intruder, violating the space she and her family and friends had been occupying.

"You." She finally spoke directly to the outsider whose face her eyes refused to focus on. "Let. Go. Of my sister."

At Alma's puissant outburst, the entire room went deafeningly silent. Her first thought was that it was out of disbelief at her sudden attitude, but it didn't take long for her to realize just how wrong she was. Everyone's gaze had suddenly shifted to her. Including her friends'. The whole world had stopped whatever they had been in the middle of and were now all locked onto her.

Everyone's stares were like daggers digging into Alma's mettle. She had suddenly felt very small and slightly embarrassed in spite of the very unnatural situation. She grit her teeth and buried the feeling deep, continuing before the pressure forced her legs to buckle.

"Who are you?" demanded Alma. "You don't belong here. Something's been... off ever since I arrived and I know you definitely have something to do with it."

The intruder paid no mind to her accusation and only stared silently at her. The nebulous haze around his face started to darken, swirling and coalescing as if in response to her accusatory speculation.

Alma reached for the holster wrapped around her thigh. "Alright. I'm going to give you to the count of three to leave or I will drive a bullet so far into your head..."

The eerie stares of everyone in the room continued to bear down on Alma as she made her threats. The world around her seemed to freeze and the young sniper could barely keep her resolve from crumbling.

"One…" She barely managed to blurt out. "Two—"

A sudden hand on Alma's shoulder made her almost bite her tongue in fright. She spun around immediately and pointed her pistol at whoever it was that wanted her attention.

It was Qu'l-Nia, with a grim look on her typically emotionless face.

"Alma. You must leave this place urgently. You are not safe here."

"I'm not moving a damn muscle until I get my sister away from this freak!"

"Alma, please. You do not understand. This being is—"

Before the eldritch woman could finish her warning, the entire room abruptly sank into darkness. A soundless vacuum enveloped the room, preventing even her voice from escaping Alma's mouth. Everything and everyone was gone, save for the ex-soldier herself and the stranger invading her home. The stranger that was now towering many more feet higher in the air than before. His unnatural height was forcing him to hunch over to avoid hitting the ceiling, giving him a much more wicked and menacing appearance than before.

His fancy suit had melted into him, becoming a strange murky outfit that wrapped around his now tall and slender body. His face had caved into itself, sinking impossibly far and becoming an endless portal inside of his head. Faraway stars flared inside the black emptiness. It was as if the opening had become a hole into the gulf of space.

Alma immediately opened fire, shooting him in every place she could think of. Her bullets merely melted into the depths of his body without a sound. The one she fired into his face simply floated deep into the abyss until it disappeared.

W-What are you…? She spoke but there was no sound. Her words dripped out silently.

Hello Alma.

His voice reverberated through the dark of the room. The language he was speaking in was hard to grasp, but she somehow understood it completely. She couldn't understand where his words were flowing from but every one of them came out silky and smooth and almost felt pleasant to listen to. This feeling had terrified her the most.

You're not ready to join me yet.

But it was nice to see you again.

He raised his arm and extended one of his spindly fingers towards Alma. It was right in front of her face and she was too frozen in fear to do anything about it. The tip of his finger gently touched her forehead. She grimaced, squeezing her eyes tightly in fearful anticipation of what was going to come next.

But nothing came.

When she finally opened them, the familiar sky of night greeted her warmly. It had briefly reminded her of his face, causing her body to jolt up.

She was back at her campsite, sitting silently in the darkness. She remembered they were barely at the edge of the Tindalos Forest, on their way into her witch friend's territory, when they had decided they would set up camp for the night before casually venturing into such a dangerous area.

The terrifying nightmare she had just experienced was gradually fading from her consciousness.

"Alma?" came a voice from the shadows. On the other side of the encampment was Qu'l-Nia, sitting inconspicuously cross-legged on the ground. She was staring into the darkness, complex thoughts rushing through her mind. "Are you alright?"

"I… I was having another nightmare. My sister was there. You and Hwalín were also there. We were having a good time and then suddenly…" She concentrated, trying to recall what had shaken her core so severely just minutes before. "I don't remember. But you were trying to warn me about something."

Qu'l-Nia remained silent for a moment, mulling over what words to say in response.

"I seem to recall calling out to you," she said finally. The deep gloom silently obscured the hint of concern on her face. "But I cannot remember why."

"How is that possible?"

"Anything is possible, Alma…" The quiet of the night seemed to emphasize the eldritch woman's voice as she spoke. Its robotic cadence rebounded inside of Alma's skull.

"...in dreams."