an entry from a journal I started while I was going to Canada. This was written December 26, 2000. It came from the dream that I had when I was camping on one of the crags in Sudbury, Ontario. From a very long sleep right on the snow and a nightmare that came about of being in a carnival. I did not have a notebook handy to write it at the time but I wrote it out in an email to a friend the moment I got back.
This is a nightmare that I had while I was camping in Ontario, as I was laying under the open sky to fall asleep -- I was thinking about the flight from Chicago and Ontario. Kept thinking of The Twilight Zone film where the gremlin was tearing up the engine. I thought of this because I had a window seat going to Toronto, and with the imagination that I have as a horror writer, I kept thinking about that but as I would fall into a sleep that not even the winter cold would not disturb. One can not begin to recollect the ideas that would be in the writings of this Midwest born writer, though one can only say of the night sky was that it was as black as the shadows that would cast off of the skyscrapers that would be in Downtown Chicago. The sleep was the beginning of the dream, one that I had found myself walking around in a carnival, looking at a knife thrower impaling his subject with the knifes that he would throw. Perhaps the cold of the Ontario winter had invoked this but one cannot begin to describe the thoughts that would come of this.
One would say that my imagination would be getting the best of me in the coldest of winters, but in the December night -- it was December 8th, the wind would be cutting into my exposed flesh. As I would slip further into the dream, the details of the carnival had became much more harrowing, such a horror that would go without description -- I would be waking up and falling back to sleep as the dream becomes more vivid and harrowing. The blacker sleep becomes as I would walk among the carnival, of what I would see among them is that what the psychic had related when she was drifting in and out of sleep. The dream had envisioned the end of everything. Horror that would go beyond what one would imagine within the thoughts -- on the background of the Canadian winters felt cold as dead flesh. I could feel myself pulling out of my physical state, as I could see myself sleeping on the snow with the backpack being used as a pillow -- under the blanket of darkness, one can feel the spirits of the deceased looking on at me along with a blackbird; the crow in the shadows.
Looking on from the graven night -- one can see the thoughts that would be within the perverse carnival, as one can see that the mirrors which look into the windows of the damaged soul. That as I -- one that is taking into narrative; looking into the dreams from the hostess. The crucifixition of the perverse -- as one would walk among the carnival of Carpathia; among the knife thrower, would be the woman who would be the focused target. The places where the knifes impaled her would be the same places where they had crucified Christ. Where she bled, the color of the snow was a blackish red -- deceased blood except that the person impaled was still alive. She had been blindfolded so she would not see the horror that would be among the onlookers. As she had bled, there were others drinking from her wounds -- from the places where she was impaled.
I was looking on from a distance -- one cannot describe how disturbing the picture appears, but as I would continue to sleep; I would become more frightened to awake because the horror appeared so real. It is one that would say the perversion is a blasphemy; a horror within the thoughts reflecting the end of everything -- all that would be born and the beginning of life, and all that is in the eyes of mortality; everything dies. The Ontario winter would become the backdrop for the dream that would inhabit my sleep, from what would be seen in the weary mind; the winter's night could only foreshadow the horrors of the unknown. That as I would remain in the sleeping bag; shielding myself from the snows that would fall at midnight -- the dream that would be in my sleep would continue. As the dream continues -- the carnival leads me into a field, the nocturnal darkness blankets the sky -- starless and a full moon which had been waning. It is as the thoughts within the early Salem witches of the 17th Century; horror which would be upon my mind -- similar as their sleep.
As of what I had been taught of life after death among the ones in the church, darkness which follows after death -- damnation nonexistent. The salvation as they would say or claim; only it would slowly wither. It is the horror that would be inside the tunnel -- emulating upon the old horrors, looking from the eyes of a recluse. As I would walk in the shadows, one would feel multiple eyes looking upon me -- beings with cold blackish gray flesh, and glowing cobalt red eyes as the psychic described of one of her dreams. It is in the mind which one had seen the thoughts within the nightmare -- one that would inhabit as I would set foot inside of a church; among the night which I would walk in Sudbury, Ontario, the nightmare would be fresh in my mind. Only as I could not write of it then and there, the pictures that would inhabit are those of a perverse religious horror. The nightmare which is similar to Ms. Hillson's troubled memories, such horror which would go without description -- only which is understood; the raping thoughts influenced by the lunacy of dogma.
The faces of the crater surrounding Sudbury, as I had looked down from losing my footing -- that night invoked a nightmare about all the what-ifs. I could see myself from the dream, as I was on the rocks -- looking down at my sleeping state. I would see a crow looking back at me while perched on some of the snow covered rocks. As I would ascend, I could see the Carnival of Carpathia in the distance and myself asleep among the rocks -- further that I would climb, I could feel the raven looking down at me. As I went further, I felt something pecking at my hand -- it was the raven, the continue pecking had made me lose my grip and down fell into the eternal darkness. I had felt that I was falling forever and could not hear myself scream, but I felt a crashing down into my physical body. I saw that I was laying on my side and buried in an inch of snow; appeared as the ice mummy of ancient Russia.
I had awakened again for a short period of time, still in my sleeping bag -- just long enough to get comfortable. Fell back to sleep quickly but the snow was falling at a rate where if I continue to sleep, I would be covered fully in snow. It was about 12:30 PM when I had finally woke up -- was shaking the excess snow off of my backpack and sleeping bag then proceeded to break camp because I had to descend from the bluff. As I had descended from the rock face, the only thing which was in my mind was the bizarre nightmare; the nightmare about the Carnival of Carpathia. It was under the gray sky and the walk back to the home of the hostess, I spoke nothing of this nightmare though the pictures are too disturbing to relate though one as I am calm enough to carefully recollect of the dream.
As I would hike along the streets of Sudbury, Ontario, at night walking past the cemetery, I can only think about that one nightmare. The one that would sit in my mind as I would sit in the motel -- waiting to sleep, the carnival of Carpathia, is what sits in my mind and imagination as I would try to write the narrative from my motel room. As I would lay on the motel bed, I began to draw the picture of the nightmare that I had when I slept; darkened by the skies covered by a blizzard within the Ontario winter. The death-like cold as I had continued to walk through the streets, I felt as a vampire since I was emotionally drained. Sitting in the cafe to avoid the blowing snow, I had thought much about that nightmare which I had when I slept under the open skies -- then as I had watched the Discovery channel about the ice maiden, I had nightmares about getting buried within ice slowly freezing around me; a cold reflection from the surroundings that would be combined with the horrors that Ms. Hillson related added to the nightmare that I was haunted by the past few days that I had been asleep beneath the Ontario sky.
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"Carnival of Carpathia"
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|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|Nick, this. is. SCARY! WOW! If I have nightmares tonight, I'm a blamin' YEW, my friend! Very well done; bravo!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :)
|Reviewed by Ken Kupstis
|Cool imagery, Nick, but I strongly suggest chopping this up into paragraphs...the one huge block of writing is tough on the eyes. Otherwise great...KK|
|Reviewed by S Cardin
|Great fluidity of mind, Nick. I thought you did a great job capturing the creepiness/eeriness/edginess of the carnival well.|
|Reviewed by Charles O'Connor III
You continue to impress and and influence me.
|Reviewed by Michael Meisberger
You are an incredible inspiration! You keep up the great short stories and you just keep cranking out great self published works. Kudos, kudos & kudos. From the profile pic to the content, this is one of the best pages here in the horror genre.
Slay on… slay on!!!
|Reviewed by Terry Vinson
C R E E P Y. Brings back memories of specific nightmares I've had that inspired horror shorts.
Hope I have one just as vivid tonight, in fact...only maybe with a touch more gore.