Nightmares

The Captain swam in long graceful strokes towards Harold. He tried to ignore the massive shapes that moved in the darkness just within the dimmest reach of his dive light. He didn’t think they would eat him. He told himself this over and over again as he swam towards Harold’s rising form, fearing the instant flash of massive teeth surrounding a cavernous mouth.

He reached Harold and tried to both swim calmly and as quickly as he could without looking like the panicked animal that he was.

“You are going to be okay,” he said to Harold. “In times of stress I like to talk to things that don’t always talk back, like you for instance. I think I chose wisely with you. You are perfect. You are just flawed enough I think.”

Harold’s mind opened to darkness. It was a dream like darkness, thick and clingy like viscous mud. A room faded in, a library. It grew sharper, and soon there was an earthy smell of paper packed tight into a room,which mingled with the moldy smell of old carpet. The library seemed to be infinitely small and infinitely large in the same instant. It seemed only limited by his perspective.

He could hear a rhythmic sort of boom, like someone pounding on thick wood. He could hear clawing too, like a cat raking its nails across wood. He could see a box. A box made of heavy wood. A box with over sized metal hinges. A box with a lock that seemed to grow thin and rattle as something behind it pounded with deep thuds and the splintery sounds of ripped wood.

He could feel a sort of familiar and growing terror. The box seemed everywhere. Sounds of uncontrolled rage echoed as he looked for an escape.

The face that faded into view was both familiar and unrecognizable. It was an old but his it’s was slightly translucent and it’s eyes were completely black. The smile wasn’t quite right either. It was thin and didn’t match the face. It wasn’t a happy smile. It was more like someone trying to do an approximation of a smile.

It was gaunt with skin that was so pale, it reflected a dim almost wet pearlessence. It stood crooked with one foot out at an odd angle, staring at Harold, unblinking, eyes a solid black. It began making a wet croaking noise as it moved thin pink lips.

A soft squeaking noise interrupted them. Jimmy Carter smiled sheepishly as he pushed an old, dented television cart with an equally old television, it’s large cathode ray screen and round dials looked like it was from his grandparents’ house.. Jimmy Carter pressed a button on a silver and wood grain VCR that sat on a shelf under the television. With a loud click, the VCR door popped opened and with shaky hands, he pushed the cassette in and the door closed. The machine lit up, and the clocked blinked midnight as Jimmy Carter’s face appeared on the dimly lit screen. He sat behind a desk and behind him was a grainy background of an office with flags on either side of him.

He smiled and began to speak.

“It’s important to the assimilation process that you understand that we do this not out of revenge for what you have done to us, but as at attempt to save our species. Interstellar communication is difficult in that life will very often take its shared ancestry and perspective for granted. It assumes that it and it’s perspective is that of the universe.”

The Jimmy Carter on the television paused and smiled at Harold sympathetically.

“To have effective inter species communication, it is therefore necessary that we interface with an individual so that we can communicate effectively. This results in the destruction of the individual organism to develop an effective communication tool.”

Jimmy Carter on TV stopped and cleared his throat. He took a sip of coffee. He shuffled his papers and looked around uncomfortably.

“We don’t know how you feel about this but would like you to know that any cruelty you feel is unintentional.”

Harold could hear the box again. Its sound pulled at deeply familiar terror. He opened his mouth to scream but found he could only stand trembling and gasping a thin wheezing bit of air. The pale figure either always had tentacles for hands or they sprouted from it’s chest. Harold wasn’t sure as they roped around his neck. He struggled to breath, eyes bulging, as he felt them tighten.

Harold could hear a splintery crash over the ringing in his ears. He could see a dark shape behind his attacker. It moved in jerking uncoordinated movements.

Darkness began a slow decent from the corners of his eyes as he felt his breath being squeezed out of him.

The scream he heard was shrill, angry. It cried out in anger like an animal wounded and ready to fight. He felt himself being tossed and let go. He tumbled into the darkness, opening his eyes long enough to see the pale figure being dragged crying and clawing into the open box. The monster turned her head long enough to look at Harold and opened her dark toothless mouth.

Harold woke screaming, naked, and handcuffed to a metal cot.

He was alone and in complete darkness. The air was damp and thick. He could hear a steady hum and could feel the bed shaking slightly. His ears were popping too as if he were diving to the bottom of a pool.

He was sure he was naked too. He could feel cold dark ocean surrounding him on all sides, ready to crack the sinking steel shell that creaked around him. He was sure that he could hear water too. He imagined the sea slowly creeping in, like a thief stealing the last bit of air as he spiraled towards the dark abyss.

“Hey Buddy”

Harold looked around in the darkness for the source of the Captain’s voice.

“How are you?”

Harold tugged on the handcuffs pinning him to the bed.

“I am chained to a god damn bed. That is how I am doing,” he said, his voice shook at the end making him sound more honest about his feelings than he intended. Harold could feel a rising panic in his chest, and he felt close to losing his mind in a fit of crying sobs.

“Please let me ou…” was all he was able to say before he heard the airlock being turned on the door. He could see a white wedge of light open the darkness.

When the overhead light was flicked on, it took him a few moments of squinting before he was able to see the room was clean and dry and not the dirty rat infested horror that his mind had imagined. He tried to blink back his tears that were starting a slow and embarrassing trail down his cheek.

The Captain smiled and patted Harold’s foot reassuringly.

“We didn’t know how you would wake up,” he said. “We’ve all been down there, but the effects are….unpredictable.”

He released Harold, who sat up rubbing his hands. “I remember a woman, a terrible woman, and I remember that you dumped me out under the ocean with sharks the size of mountains,” Harold said, trying to remember why he was mad.

Eugene stuck his head around the corner of the door, walked in the room, and stood next to the Captain. Patrick sheepishly walked in and stood behind them.

Harold tried to remember things but his world felt too much in a fog. He felt like he should be angry too, but he really didn’t have it in him. He could remember being terrified beyond childhood nightmares, beyond any worry he may have had before. This terror was primal. It was the fear of being consumed, helplessly, in small chunks.

“Are we safe?” Harold asked.

The three men looked sheepishly at him and he felt as though they were going to have to tell him something he didn’t want to hear.

The Captain smiled . “We each have done what you have just accomplished, but the results have been… unpredictable. So your question has a few conditions. You are safe for now, and there may be a few side effects.”

The Captain patted Harold on the head, and the three men hurried out of the room.