Demons and Dreams

©2009 Gerald L Thompson

I've written a supernatural thriller inspired by a dream.  Chapter 1 is essentially the dream.  I say essentially because some details have been added or embellished.  the major events are true to the dream. This dream motivated me to write a book that was tentatively titled Soldier for God and has been changed to Demons and Dreams. 

If you'd like you can download the first 10 chapters here and comment on them below.

If you would like to offer corrections or ideas, make sure you refer to the line number.

Below is the first chapter just to give you a taste of the story.

Chapter 1


My mind woke with a start and I struggled to open my eyes. What? My arm lay frozen at my side when I tried to reach for my face. I tried the other arm, and it proved to be equally disabled. Don’t panic Caleb. Confused by my paralysis, I focused on the fingers of my right hand. The knuckles cracked as I slowly moved them and my elbow snapped as I lifted my forearm. My shoulder protested as I brought my hand to my face to rub the mucous from the lids.

A blood-curdling scream froze my movements. Deep chuckles echoed around me followed by an eerie silence.

With greater urgency, I cleared the crust and pried open my eyes. Veins of light flickered like candles and danced across the domed ceiling that arched high above me. My neck complained when I looked left and again when I turned to the right. With every joint cracking, I sat up to study my surroundings.

Beds? The dim light revealed row and upon row of beds with body-shaped lumps lying on them. Humanoid shadows wove through the prone shapes while others floated above.  Floating? I closed my eyes, shook my head and looked again. It was hard to tell. The low light and distance made it difficult to see detail. Must be my imagination.

I looked toward the bed on my right. A woman lay there. She was fully clothed with no blanket to cover her. The bare mattress rested on a three foot high frame. She seemed to be asleep. As I watched, she smiled, sighed and rolled over.

I turned to the other side. A man lay on his back, and his legs thrashed wildly. What? . . .NO! I rolled backwards and fell on the floor. I crept to my knees and peered over the top of the mattress. A creature perched on the man’s chest and held on as the man bucked. One arm dug into his head, and the other reached into his chest. How can it do that? The man’s legs stopped, and his back arched as silent screams erupted from his open mouth. Pain and anguish painted his face. I gasped, and the creature turned its head in my direction. A toothy grin split the little monster's face as flames of sadistic pleasure danced in its eyes. The scent of decay reached my nose.

Eyes narrowed, it growled, “Go back to sleep, human.”

I jumped up and fell on my face as my feet slipped on the smooth floor. Blood from my nose left a trail on my shirt as I got up and ran down the aisle. Every bed had a sleeper. I dropped to the floor and rolled under several beds. When I found myself in another aisle, I scrambled low and tried to hide. This process was repeated a couple more times until I was out of breath. I dropped between two beds and waited for my lungs to catch up. Slowly I lifted my head and looked for pursuit. I discovered none and sat down on the floor.

What was that thing? It had bright red eyes, a human-like face and a mouth full of tiny sharp teeth. Sprigs of coarse hair sprouted from its head which sat on a short neck. Burnt red blotches mottled the crimson skin on its hairless body. Muscular arms and legs looked too long for its size. The naked creature’s gender remained a mystery.

Like a periscope, I lifted my head just high enough to look around. I crouched in the middle of a sea of beds. Soft light rippled in fluctuating waves across the high domed ceiling, providing dim illumination. A distant scream followed by baritone laughter echoed off the cavernous walls. I studied the ceiling far above. It must be 300 hundred feet high. Reminds me of a football stadium, only bigger. I could not see an end to this ocean of beds. To my left, in the middle of all these cots, sat a squat, rectangular structure. Before me appeared what looked like a main aisle. Crawling on my hands and knees, I crept to the center path. I looked up and down the aisle. The coast is clear. Stooping low, I ran toward the building. When I finally reached it, my heaving chest forced me to rest. My heart pounded. I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. What’s going on?

Jumbled thoughts and a myriad of questions flooded my mind. I closed my eyes. You need to calm down and think. My breath slowed, I opened my eyes and surveyed the surroundings. The twilight made it hard to see details. Shadows continued moving among and above the sleepers. Occasionally, a scream pierced the gloom, always followed by a chorus of deep laughter. I didn’t know which disturbed me more; the screaming or the laughter.

I stepped back, turned and examined the structure. I faced the short side of the rectangular building; perhaps thirty feet long, standing about ten feet tall. A building in a cavern surrounded by a sea of beds. I don’t get it. Damaged ceramic tiles peppered the wall’s surface while many lay broken on the floor. In the middle of the wall, an open doorway beckoned me. My foot kicked a ceramic shard, and it skittered across the floor. What is this place? As I stepped through the doorway, a shape materialized before me.

I fell backwards, hitting the ground hard, and scrambled away from the apparition. As I retreated, the creature faded from sight. What was that thing? It had the same coloration as the other creature. It's crimson eyes bore into mine. The blood red lips smacked as if I were a tasty morsel and the thing stank of death. Why didn't it attack?

A seed germinated in my mind, and it grew into a frightening realization. These creatures are demons. They only lacked the horns and forked tail.

I’m in hell.

Dead. I must be dead. I laid on the floor as spasms of grief racked my body. A pool of tears collected beneath me.

Wait a minute . . . if I’m in hell, shouldn’t it be hotter?

Perplexed, I sat up and drew my handkerchief from my pocket. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. Pulling the snotty cloth away from my face, I stared at it.  If I were dead, would I need to wipe my nose?

With renewed hope, I stood. While contemplating my next step, a compulsion to enter the doorway grew within me. It felt like something grabbed the front of my clothing and dragged me toward the doorway. I panicked and fought the pull.

A voice spoke in my mind. “Trust me.”

My feet slid toward the doorway. Tiles scattered. NO! My hands caught both sides of the doorway. Unable to resist the pull, I lost my grip and crossed the threshold. The demon reappeared. Something grabbed my vocal cords, and shouted, “Jesus is my Savior! Jesus is my Savior!” I covered my head, closed my eyes and waited for the monster to strike. When nothing happened, one eye opened. The demon had retreated several steps and glared at me. I straightened up.

Pulse racing, I peered at the beast then stole a glance around the room. My eyes flicked back to the creature then I stole a second glance. To my left, about two feet away, stood a stainless steel table piled with an assortment of parts and junk. On top of this heap rested a black plastic tube about two feet long.

“Pick up the tube,” commanded the voice in my head.

What? Looking at the tube, a glimmer of white light crawled along its surface. My arm, of its own volition, reached for it. I resisted, but lost. My right hand grasped the thick end of the tube and I heard myself say, “The Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.

The plastic tube became a silver sword that pulsed with a white aura. I stared at the blade. It's glow shone brightly in this dim place. The sword was light in weight, but solid. A tingly sensation poured into my arm.

Lifting the sword closer to my face, I ran my left hand along the flat part of the blade. It felt warm and glass smooth. I ran my left thumb along the top edge. Sharper than a razor, the sword cut it. I jerked my hand away and examined my thumb. Instead of blood dripping down my hand, I found a severe, inch long burn.

A low growl reminded me: I was not alone. Turning toward the sound, the sword trembled as I held it before me. The demon took a wrestlers position: knees bent, elbows up. Inch long claws tipped each finger. I mirrored its stance; the sword in my right hand. It glared at me. I quaked under its gaze. We circled each other. I wondered who would make the first move. The demon neared the doorway. It turned and bolted, disappearing as it passed over the threshold. Stunned, I lowered the sword. Why didn’t it fight?

Relieved, I stood there and looked around. The same dingy, white tiles covered the walls. Now what? I peered into the gloom and felt compelled to go deeper into the room. I didn't fight it this time. The sword’s aura provided illumination. A row of steel tables faded into the darkness. The closest one held the vacuum cleaner parts and other junk, the others I could see were empty. Beds lined the walls. The low light made it impossible to see what lay at the far end. I cautiously moved down the aisle.

As I crept forward, a bed with a human-shaped lump took form. I jumped. A high-pitched scream bounced off walls and the person on the bed convulsed. I inched closer; sword ready. A small demon sat on a women’s chest with both hands embedded in her skull. The creature wailed, “Mmmooommmyyy,” sounding like a little girl, and then laughed. It hadn’t noticed me. I looked at the sword and then the little monster. I stepped forward and kicked a tile across the floor. The demon turned its head in my direction. I swung. As the sword struck, the demon “popped.” Surprise crossed its face just before it became a vapor and dissipated.

A low moan rose from the bed. The woman no longer thrashed. For better light, I held the sword near her face. Eyes closed, tears ran down her temple and dripped onto her pillow. A sob escaped her throat, and the damp area on the pillow widened. I bent down and whispered in her ear, “Wake up, the demon is gone.” She didn’t stir.

I put a hand on her shoulder and shook gently as I whispered, “In the name of Jesus, awake.”

Her eyes popped open, wide with panic. They darted about until our eyes met. Even in the dim light, the hazel in her eyes sparkled. She struggled to sit up. Her joints cracked. Her face winced in pain. I tried to help, but she twisted away. I stepped back to give her room to stand. She placed her feet on the floor and her knees buckled. She caught the edge of the bed and tried again. With more confidence, she let go of the bed and faced me.

“Go,” I pointed to the door I came in. “See if you can find a way out. Remember, Jesus will save and protect you.” Why did I say that?

Wordless, she scanned my body from toe to head. Her eyes bore into mine as if she examined my soul. I pointed to the door again. She turned and left the way I came. I continued down the row of beds till I came to the end of the room.

I found no more people or demons, but discovered a new doorway. I stepped through it and found myself in the original cavern. I sighed. Now what do I do?

Another bed sat by the door with a man lying on it. He looked the same as the other sleeper. No, not quite the same. The other sleepers had a very soft glow about them; hard to notice until it was absent. He still took breath, but there was no spark. No spirit. Dead, but not dead. How odd. How sad.

I turned to continue my exploration and banged into a muscular wall of blood red flesh. My eyes traveled upward. A demon towered over me, its foul breath and saliva rained down. I jumped back in terror, the sword forgotten. It's clawed hand reached for me; evil red eyes filled my vision.

“Jesus save me!”