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Team-Captin.com
Category:
Fantasy
Type: Fiction
A work in progress novel, which I do hope will be the next in my Different Dimension series.
The Unreality, a universe parallel to our own. The home of dreams. Soon to be introduced to the first "Dreamer", a person from Reality who has crossed over. Young Charlotte Turner and her magical charm braclets get whisked away into a sinister plot to ruin dreaming forever, it's up to her and a few befriended nightmares to stop it. Yet, the biggest challenge may be finding her way back home afterwards. A step away from "funny Fantasy" for my series, however quite enjoyable to read.
Excerpt
Chapter One
Daymare
“You’re here early, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” said a man in a brown, battered hat. He sat down next to a girl who was alone in the middle of a city park. She was on the end of the slide, so he took to sitting on the sand below.
The girl he spoke to did not respond. She appeared preoccupied with her wrists. Each had sparkling silver charm bracelets. There were clover leafs, horseshoes, stars, small critters, and even a zodiac sign for Libra.
The man’s name was Hulluf Grumblepoot. He wore a set of threadbare khaki pants and an auburn overcoat. Hulluf took off his hat, revealing a mane of dark green hair, and rested it on his knee. With his free hand, he began patting his pockets, with a confused expression.
“Now where did I put that?”
He patted his front and back, coming up dry. Until at long last he procured a large golden pocket watch that was just as battered as his hat. He observed it for a moment.
“Almost time,” said Hulluf Grumblepoot, sounding thoroughly pleased. “Are you ready?”
The girl wearing charm bracelets shook her head. At least it was a sign of life.
“That’s perfectly natural, I suspect,” Hulluf chortled. “Cheer up, Charlotte, it’ll be over soon enough, no need to worry.”
Nearly seven minutes past when a whoosh of air made Charlotte sit straight up. It had been unexpected, and expected for quite too long. There in the middle of the small park was a very large cactus that had suddenly shot out of the ground beside the swing set. The cactus was humungous, and had bright golden stripes running up and down the lime-green body. At the top were three neatly lined-up thorns that looked as if they were made out of candy cane.
A tiny door slid open on the side of this great green marvel. A tiny staircase came down out of it, and a small, old-looking fellow in a purple waistcoat appeared in the opening. He smiled warmly to Charlotte and Hulluf, and started towards them.
“A beautiful Earth night, if I do say so myself,” said the little gnome, sliding his hands into his waistcoat pockets. It was very dark outside, but between the lights of the city, the half-moon, and the glow coming from the giant cactus, this scene was very noticeable.
“Quite right, Kip. Quite right indeed,” agreed Hulluf Grumblepoot.
As the girl had nothing to say in this unique situation, a momentary silence sprung between them. It was hastily noticed and mended by Kip the gnome.
“Still wearing that old lot? You should buy something more suiting, Mr. Grumblepoot.”
“For the last time, call me Hulluf. I’m tired of you talking to me all formal-like. And I appreciate clothing with character, thanks so much!” Hulluf said dignifiedly.
Kip simply raised his eyebrows and gave a non-committal shake of his head. “I suppose it’s up to you Mr. – Er, Hulluf.” He shrugged off the matter and turned his attention to the girl. He examined her minutely. She had almond eyes, chestnut brown hair that fell to her shoulders and was held back by a white hairclip, and she was very nice looking but not beautiful. The girl was slender, almost athletic. From her build, Kip supposed that she must play soccer. She looked at be about fifteen.
“This is going to be the turning-point of your life, Charlotte. Are you ready to make this choice?”
The girl blinked a couple of times, before slumping heavily with her chin in her hands. She shrugged.
Nearby a patrolman noticed the oddly placed cactus, and strode swiftly towards them. He looked heavily annoyed, as if someone had planned this happening during his shift. When the patrolman came to a halt by the slide, he rapped his flashlight on the giant cactus, making way for a loud thunk sound.
“You’ll have to move it, sirs.”
The patrolman frowned. Two men, one small and elderly with a great white beard, the other in a hobo’s outfit sitting next to a depressed teenager. Something was amiss.
“What is going on here?” he quickly added to his last statement.
Kip looked the officer up and down. “We’re taking this girl to the Unreality, sir. If you don’t mind, we’ll be done and gone in a moment.”
This hardly pleased the officer. He stepped smartly forward, and took the girl by the arm. She was so surprised at this action, as she was lost in her own thoughts to even notice the policeman, that she allowed herself to be led away.
“I don’t know your lingo, but I can’t allow it. Come little girl, I’ll see you home.”
Without another word, the policeman marched Charlotte off.
Hulluf Grumblepoot glanced sidelong at Kip who was thoroughly confused. “Suppose you should have held back some truths, Kipmund. Like, the Unreality for instance. I doubt that man is a Dreamer.”
Kip stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Well that’s just annoying. Don’t they teach these things in school?”
Hulluf shook his shaggy head of green hair. “Not from what I heard. This Dimension… Uh, this Planet, in particular, is very silly about knowledge. They’re all very certain that they know everything there is to know about anything, and yet they’ve barely covered the basics.”
He pocketed his watch before placing his battered hat on his head again. “Well, no matter what they teach in schools here, I think we’ll have to find another way to get Charlotte over.”
Kip nodded mutely. Using the cactus would be the quickest route to the Different Dimension. A Dimension made entirely out of dreams. However, getting a girl still struggling with the idea of leaving her life and world behind into the cactus appeared difficult. Cursed power limitation. In the Different Dimension, Kip was almighty. On Earth, he was a garden ornament with a tenth of his usual power. He’d have to fix that somehow if he was to influence this child. The dream dimension was a vastly more thrilling place to live in then the mundane Earth. If only she could see that friends could be remade, and family forgotten, Charlotte would cross over. And as far as Kip knew, he had very little time to convince her of these things. She turned sixteen in the summer, making her a Young Woman. The mind had a small shift at this stage. Playing Pretend, or with toys lost interest. Having fun was not so much about playing on the Monkey Bars. And the imagination took a plunge into sarcasm. It was a tricky stage that every human eventually took. Turning sixteen, Kip was sure, would destroy Charlotte’s chances of becoming what he called a “Dreamer”.
Hulluf Grumblepoot picked himself up, and started towards the cactus. “Come on Kip. It’s getting late. We’ll come back tomorrow.”
With a defeated sigh, the small gnome agreed, and followed him into the large cactus. In a moment the door closed, and another whoosh of air took the out-of-place vessel away. Where it went was unknown. It couldn’t be seen in the sky, and the grass looked untouched. It had simply vanished.
Charlotte waited on a wooden park bench while the patrolman made an urgent phone call from a nearby emergency booth. She idly gazed at her charm bracelets. Why were they so important? she thought. Hulluf had made sure that she brought them. But why? She had got them from her grandmother when she turned nine. There wasn’t anything special about them. Was there? No. They’re just metal on a metal chain-link bracelet. Nothing special. Nothing at all.
The policeman hung up, and came to crouch in front of her. “I’ve just called a car to come take you home, OK? Those men won’t hurt you.”
Charlotte simply nodded, without looking up. This guy had truly got the wrong message from what he stumbled on. But, who could have thought otherwise.
She sighed, and poked at the four-leaf clover on her right bracelet. It glittered at her. This was unsurprising, as it had always done that. Little did she know that this very charm was one of the reasons she had been told to bring it. Little did she know that the rather innocent-looking four-leaf clover charm was the luckiest object in all of Earth and the Different Dimension combined.
Though she could not remember it happening, this charm saved her life twice. Once when a spectre had pushed her out of a tree. She didn’t see the spectre, nor knew it was there. Luckily however, she managed to catch hold an arm-wide branch. Oddly, the branch had not been there when she had climbed the tree. But, in the flurry of the moment, one does not remember this sort of detail. The other time was when a demon had tripped her at the top of the school stairs. Again, she had no idea about the demon, and instead figured that she had stumbled. Luckily a boy spotted this, and caught her. At the time she thought the boy was being heroic, but instead, he was acting completely out of character. The Charm had made him. He was the sort of boy who would watch with a blank expression, and then continue about his business. Unfortunately, Charlotte did not understand this.
There were other less important charms there too. There was an otter that gave her the strength to swim slightly faster then everyone else, a turtle that gave her a strong pain-threshold, a smiley face that made people like her, and numerous others. The Lucky Charm was the most important, however. It would aid her reaching the Different Dimension.
When the police car pulled up in the street near the park path where she sat, the patrolman led her to it. “This man’ll see you home. Now, I’ll go investigate that large cactus and those mean men. OK?” He smiled to her, as if she was five years old, and patted her head.
Silent, and obedient in her stunned state, she entered the police car.
That Hulluf person had asked her to leave her entire world behind in order to live a life of dreams. What had he meant? Why did she oblige him? Charlotte shuddered and told the policeman where her house was.
He was an odd sort of person, that Hulluf. He had a long, cucumber-like nose, gnarled teeth, bulging eyes, and large ugly hands. His mane of dark green hair inched out from under the battered hat to conceal a portion of his sickly green skin. In hindsight, he didn’t seem like a man at all. More like an ogre or something. For the first time in a while, Charlotte lifted her head, and looked out the window. She saw a shadow of her reflection on the passing scenery. Her reflection looked thoughtful.
That man. Kip, was it? He looked exactly like a gnome. The rosy-cheeked, and twinkling blue-eyed kind one finds in a garden, often asleep. What a strange pair of unlikely people.
The car stopped, and the policeman got out. He came around, and opened her door for her. Reluctantly, Charlotte came out. She felt dizzy. As if a dream had become a reality. Truthfully, a fortnight ago, she had had a vivid dream including a gnome and an ogre conversing. Her name had come up a few times, as if they were trying to decide on something. The dream itself was a haze of forgotten memory now.
Charlotte allowed herself to be led to the front door. The policeman knocked, and almost at once her mother was there, looking extremely worried. Charlotte met with reality, and cursed herself for being so careless. Her mother must have been up all night, worried.
“Oh dear!” her mother cooed. “Thank you, officer!”
She looked ready to hug him. Instead, the policeman only waved a nonchalant hand. “Not to worry, ma’am. A patrolman found her in Riverside Park.” He tipped his hat. “If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, I’d like a word with your daughter. We’re curious as to why she was there.”
“So am I,” Charlotte said, wearily.
“What do you mean? Answer the man, Charlotte!” her mother commanded.
The girl shrugged. “I was meeting someone.”
“Who? Who?” her mother interrogated, getting angry at the thought of her daughter sneaking off in the night to meet mysterious people in the park.
“Someone from school,” Charlotte muttered.
“Give the man a name, Charlotte.”
The police officer frowned. It was a mystery who she had met with and it ought to stay that way. The less information he gathered, the less complicated his report had to be. “No ma’am. I’ve heard enough. You two have a good night.” He nodded to them both, and turned away.
“Thank you again, officer,” the mother called before he was in his vehicle. The policeman simply waved, and drove off.
“Come inside Charlotte. We need to talk.”
Groaning, Charlotte followed her mother into the house.
The next day, Charlotte woke up at seven o’clock, and had waffles. During breakfast, her mother tried to explain what had happened to her husband. “George, she was in the park! After midnight!”
Charlotte’s father was a banker. He folded his paper, and set it aside. “After midnight?” he asked. “Are you sure, Clair?”
Clair looked firm. “Positive. I waited up!”
“Well, then, Charlotte, what’s all this about?”
“Just some friends…” Charlotte said, picking at her waffle with a fork.
“It was past your curfew!” George ran a hand over his well-trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. “We’ll have to change this. Charlotte, from now on, you’re to be home by seven pm!”
“Seven?” Charlotte burst out, dropping her fork. “But the team practices later then that!”
Her father narrowed eyes. “You shall be escorted to and from practices.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to retort, but could think of nothing better then; “Seven? You want me to be a hermit?”
“No, I want you away from strange people. Friends or not, the park is hardly a place for a fourteen year old girl.”
“Fifteen,” Charlotte’s mother corrected.
“Right.” George looked discomfited, so he got up from the table, and started for the door. “I’ll be late for supper tonight, Clair.” He turned eyes on Charlotte. “Seven. Not a minute late.”
When he left, Charlotte was made to do the dishes, while her mother got her lunch ready. After several minutes, they were both out the door. Charlotte’s mother always drove her to school before heading to the daycare, where she worked. She gave her daughter a peck on the cheek, and left Charlotte to walk up the front walkway along with the mass of other children. Instantly five girls surrounded her and together they wandered from patch of students to patch of students, working their way towards the school itself.
“Seven?” asked one of her close friends. She whistled. “That’s harsh!”
“I know.” Charlotte was piling books into her knapsack from her locker. “It’s stupid.”
The friend had short, pink hair and black lipstick. “What were you doin’ at Riverside, anyway?”
The History Textbook fell absent-mindedly from her hand. While she busied herself with picking it up, Charlotte thought of a good answer. She’d have to stick by it, if she was to convince everyone. Simple was best.
“Er, I was walking, Vi.”
Vi twisted some pink hair in her finger innocently. “Walking with who?”
“Som…Myself.”
With a chuckle, Vi closed Charlotte’s locker. “Som-myself. Suspicious! Well, looks like som-myself will be lonely from now on, huh?” She winked at Charlotte. “See ya in English!”
Charlotte watched Vi walk off.
The day was slow going, and nothing out of the ordinary happened until Geography class. As usual, it began with role-call from Mrs. Butkiewitz.
“Harting… Johnson… Lawrence… Newton… Smith… Smith? Where’s Smith?”
“He’s sick, Mrs. Butkiewitz,” supplied Michael Harting, who sat next to Charlotte.
“Oh… Oh yes, that’s right! OK. Turner? Ah, Charlotte, there you are. Tillman? Mr. Tillman? Changed seats again, I see…” And on and on.
Michael Harting shared a picture he just drew with the boy next to him. A blond boy that Charlotte didn’t know too well. There were five of them. Michael, Justin, and Cam; they were a trio that didn’t part often.
Charlotte tried to see what the picture was by craning her head, but Mrs. Butkiewitz decided it was time to begin class.
The teacher stood next to a large globe. She was so fat, and round, that she appeared to be a globe herself. “Australia. This is a country we’ll be studying for the remainder of the week.” Michael sat bolt upright to pay better attention. Perhaps this country was of interest to him?
“It is one of the oddest places on the face of the planet. Most commonly known are the animals.” She moved the blackboard, and picked up a chalk. “Can anyone tell me some animals that come from Australia?”
She posed her chalk at the blackboard, and glanced back to the class. “Yes, Mr. Harting.”
“Kiwi, kangaroo, platypus, echidna, ding–”
“–One will suffice. Give the rest of the class a chance, Michael. But, as you’ve said nearly all of them, I’ll give the others a chance to catch up.”
She began drawing. Her art was horrible, and the kiwi looked more like a plum mated with a thermometer. The kangaroo looked like a lost puppy with big legs, her platypus looked like a beaver crossed with a duck, and her echidna looked like an ogre.
Mrs. Butkiewitz stood back, looking baffled. “Who drew that?”
No one answered. She turned to face them all, her fat face puffed up. “Who drew this?”
Everyone looked at each other, and no one knew. Except Charlotte. She saw the ogre draw itself while everyone was raptly paying attention to the kiwi sketch. It had winked at her and then went entirely stiff.
Mrs. Butkiewitz kept them back an extra five minutes past the bell. But, when she could not extract the ‘whom’, she let them go. What made things worse, was that the ogre would not erase.
As Charlotte and her friend Mary went towards her last class, English, she heard Michael trying to explain something to his blond friend:
“Didn’t you see it? The ogre drew itself! It even winked at me!” he had said. “Cam, you gotta believe me! Didn’t you see it?”
Cam gave him a raised eyebrow look, before shaking his head.
That night (seven o’clock on the dot) Charlotte walked through the front door.
“You’re late!” said Mrs. Turner who was in the sitting room.
Charlotte unloaded her backpack, and slumped into the sofa opposite her mother. “Your watch is ahead,” she said, holding her own watch up as if that was evidence enough.
Mrs. Turner crossed her arms. “Young Lady, you are grounded. Don’t be cheeky.”
Charlotte sighed. “Whatever,” she said, getting back to her feet.
“You’re Grounded, did you hear? The curfew is a Grounding. That means you do not leave unless permitted or accompanied! Now, go to your room, and do your homework. Dinner isn’t until eight, because your father won’t be here for another half an hour.”
Lugging her schoolbooks upstairs, Charlotte noticed something strange. There were tiny porcelain dolls lining the top railing. She paused to pick one up, and examined it. The doll was very detailed. It was of a milk maiden. Charlotte counted fifty.
“Where’d mom get these?” she wondered, setting down the porcelain doll. She shrugged it off, and continued up the stairs to her room, leaving her door ajar.
Charlotte pulled out her History textbook for the reading she had to do, and set to it. It wasn’t much, but it gripped her. When she read something, this always happened. Her imagination took over, using the words on the page to paint a vivid picture that would play along while she read. Even something as boring as world history became interesting like this. She saw Rome fall, the Mars probe land, Michelangelo paint, and Einstein jotting down equations. Even the things most people found boring, were interesting to her.
She was so enwrapped with her current reading to notice the fifty porcelain dolls walk through the door to her room. Each tiny foot making a tink sound.
After awhile Charlotte was called down for supper. She was really getting hungry. When she rushed down, the absence of the porcelain dolls was not noticed. Nor was the presence of an ogre dressed in ragged clothing waiting just around the corner towards the bathroom.
Hulluf Grumblepoot smiled to himself, and went into her room. He found the fifty porcelain dolls hiding under her bed, and nodded his satisfaction. The little dolls all waved at him. He gave a short wave of his large ugly hand.
Standing up, Hulluf became aware of a gnome sitting atop the open History textbook. “Well, they’re in place. Let’s hope this works, Kip.”
“Yes, let’s.”
Hulluf sat down on the bed, and began patting his pockets again. This time he found what he wanted straight away. It was a scrawny, almost dead-looking orange-stripped cat.
“Oh Hulluf… You didn’t have to bring that thing did you?” Kip asked, utterly disgusted by the cat.
“What’s wrong with Bigly?” asked Hulluf, patting the starved-looking feline. It let out a sound that was more of a ‘roar’ then a ‘meow’.
Kip set his hands in his waistcoat pockets. “Well for one, that thing is on its last legs.”
“That thing is named Bigly.”
“As you wish…”
Hulluf Grumblepoot sighed, rolling his eyes. He put Bigly the cat back into his overcoat. “Alright, alright. So, how long until the Reverie Faeries can get to work?” he asked, pointing to below the bed.
Kip pulled out a tiny golden pocket watch. “Oh, I’d say another two hours.”
“I’m getting tired of waiting.”
They sat there together, waiting patiently, until Hulluf had a sudden thought.
“Today. At Charlotte’s school…”
“Yes?” Kip wondered, half interested in his nails at the moment.
“There was a boy. Brown hair much lighter then Charlottes, grey-blue eyes, and a strong chin…”
Kip frowned. “Er, that doesn’t narrow it down. A fair few of these Earthlings fall into that description.”
“Well, never mind, it’s not important,” waving a hand of dismissal. “What’s important is that he saw.”
“Oh did he? Saw what?”
“Me wink.”
For a moment it looked as if Kip were going to say something, but then he appeared to change his mind, and said instead, “You blinked?”
“Winked. At Charlotte, so she knew who I was, you see.” Hulluf was patting his overcoat pockets again. After awhile, he pulled out a decrepit mirror. Frozen in time was the reflection of Michael Harting.
“Doesn’t ring a bell, I’m afraid,” Kip said, returning to the upkeep of his nails.
“Kip!” Hulluf nearly yelled. “Kip, don’t you see? There are more of them! And this one didn’t even have a charm bracelet!”
The thought finally caught up with Kip. “No charm bracelet?”
“That’s right!” Hulluf said, eagerly. “What can it mean? Do you think there’s more Dreamers out there waiting to be found?”
The gnome began to stroke his beard. “I suppose it’s possible. But, why we’ve never noticed before now is… odd.”
“Let’s not forget the Egyptians, Kip. Those were the days of Dreamers. The Elizabethan Era…? Kip, this isn’t the first time that Dreamers have existed. We’ve just never tapped into them. But, if Charlotte works out… Perhaps this boy would work out as well?”
Kip held his hand out for the mirror. After Hulluf gave it to him, the little gnome stroked his beard as he looked at the mirror. “Another Dreamer… It’s an interesting thought. Hulluf, we’ll keep this between ourselves for now, all right? I don’t want the others to know. Until this experiment is done with, we’ll leave that boy alone.”
Hulluf took his mirror back, and pocketed it. “Yeah, probably for the best.”
There were noises below. Scraping of chairs, clattering of plates and silverware.
“Ah, seems the time is near. Best get out of the way.” Kip said. He hopped over to Charlotte’s dresser, and hid among the many well-arranged stuffed animals, which were destined to go to her little sister, Lilly. Meanwhile, Hulluf pulled open her window and climbed out on to the roof, where he waited, just out of sight.
Minutes passed, an hour, and finally Charlotte returned to her room again. There was a short child beside her that had black hair.
“Lilly, get out,” Charlotte said, slightly annoyed.
“But Mommy says I can go where I like and you can not go anywhere!” Lilly informed.
“Yes, and now you would like to leave my room before I twist your ears,” Charlotte shot back to her bratty little sister.
The little girl blew a raspberry, and marched out. Charlotte sharply closed the door behind her and locked it. She turned to her History book, and sat down again. After a moment, she flipped a page. Hadn’t she left it on the right page?
Then she noticed the window was open. Charlotte rolled her eyes and got up. “Lilly… I told that brat to leave my room alone!”
Charlotte sat down again when the window was shut.
“Alright, where were we Nazis? Oh yeah, you were losing the war…”
After jotting down a couple of notes, Charlotte set down her pen. She had had enough. For the past half an hour, she’d heard a lot of tink sounds. Was her stupid sister playing with those porcelain dolls in the hall? She checked, and the empty hallway shrugged at her.
Charlotte closed and locked her door again. Another tink met her ears. Was it her imagination? Or was her mother doing something downstairs? Must be. She was alone in her room, and the window was closed. Maybe it was late?
With a shrug, Charlotte laid down on her bed for a moment. She sighed, and closed her eyes. Apparently she needed a little rest. Just a small one…
The Reverie Faeries tinked out from under her bed, and one by one they hopped up on to it, surrounding the girl. In unison, each of the faeries wiggled tiny fingers into the air, sending a sparkling green dust all over Charlotte. This was Daydream Dust.
Charlotte’s eyes fell lazily open, but she wasn’t quite awake. Instead, she was daydreaming. She stood in a field of bright green grass, and a towering blue sky. Taking it all in as she walked, Charlotte came across a small steam of trickling beauty. She stopped to look in, and found a strange reflection looking up at her.
It was that ogre again. He winked. Charlotte blinked, and looked harder. The ogre stubbornly remained intact. Was she an ogre? Quickly, she looked at her hand. The thin hand she was used to smiled at her. The charm bracelet twinkled. Another thought struck her, and she felt her face. Still the normal contours. Yet, the reflection remained an ogre.
She splashed a hand in the water, and hit a face.
Gasping, Charlotte backed quickly away. “S-Sorry!”
Hulluf Grumblepoot stood out of the water. There was no way all of that ogre would fit in such a tiny stream! Was there? Charlotte tried to apologize again, but Hulluf silently shook a forgiving head. He indicated with his finger to follow.
She obliged the ogre, and walked onwards into the daydream. He led her through the open meadow towards a tiny cottage near a small crop of trees. There was smoke in the chimney, and a pleasant welcome mat. It was thatch roofed, and walls of stone. The front door was open, and Hulluf led Charlotte inside.
When she passed the threshold, Charlotte gave a little shriek. The place was in blazes. Hulluf Grumblepoot was now much more ugly, with opaque black skin, fiery red hair, and fangs. He seemed to have turned evil. Angry green eyes blazed like the fire around him.
Charlotte backed hastily away, and faster still when Hulluf reached out for her. She stumbled, and plunged straight back. But she didn’t hit the ground. Instead, she fell into nothingness. Darkness surrounded her gluttonously, and the only thing keeping oblivion at bay was the frantic voices crying out her name.
“Charlotte! Charlotte!” they called. She could hardly hear them. The dark tunnel she fell into was full of screams and pain.
At last, she was shook violently, and she woke up. Hulluf standing above her, his hands on either shoulder. She gave a shriek, and at once Hulluf looked petrified.
There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and then as the door was wrenched open, Hulluf and the Reverie Faeries vanished into thin air. Leaving a puff of smoke in their wake. The window that Hulluf had to open again to get back in drained the air quickly of the smoke, so that Charlotte’s parents remained oblivious of the intruders.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Mrs. Turner asked. Mr. Turner at her heels, peering in.
Charlotte opened and closed her mouth a few times, blinking fast. She looked hopelessly around the room, seeing no sign of Hulluf. Her eyes were terrified and wide, and it took her five minutes to collect herself.
“Hulluf,” she said helplessly.
“What is it, dear?” her mother asked, sitting next to her.
Charlotte simply hugged Mrs. Turner, and began to cry. It had been the absolute worst kind of nightmare anyone could ever possibly experience. It had been a Daymare. More real then the scariest movie, or House of Horrors at a carnival, it had been there in her face. Enhanced by a vivid imagination, it grabbed Charlotte by the throat and filled all of her senses. She smelt the smoke in the fiery cottage, pain consumed all her nerves in the dark tunnel, and the agonised screaming rang in her ears still. It had been real, and yet, unreal, at the same time.
On the dresser, among the many stuffed animals, Kip began stroking his beard thoughtfully. After a moment, his purple waistcoat, blue twinkling eyes, and everything else about him vanished in a tiny pop.
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