Episode One

Chapter One

The Broken Music Box

The past few nights my dreams have been on the wrong side of odd.

Every night when I sleep I find myself in a desert. A vast, empty desert with no heat and no cold wrapping around me.

The first night I wandered for hours without finding anything but sand. The next night I was in the same spot that I had woken up from. I know this because on the second night I found a deteriorating farm house. The doors of the building had fallen in and the paint had long peeled off the sides.

Outside the building was a dead tree with petrified limbs stretched towards the heavens. From it's branches hung a tattered rope, swinging in the touchless breeze.

I didn't approach the building. Something told me to pass by as quick as I could. I don't know if it was the deafening whispers or the sound of a skipping record player that floated from the broken windows. But I knew not to get too close.

On the third night I found a rust covered truck that looked like it was made in the sixties. I'm terrible with car names. It had no wheels but it was held up by cement blocks. Again, something told me to keep walking. Despite not seeing anyone in the open area, I found myself feeling as though I was being watched.

The fourth night I finally made it to my destination, or what I assumed to be my destination. A railroad track, dusted with sand, but uncovered enough to suggest regular usage. By the tracks was a black bench, like the ones you would see at a bus stop. Only instead of a bus stop, it said, "Train Boarding" in big bold letters.

On the bench sat a broken music box. I knew this was a present for me, and this bench was meant only for me. I felt safe here. I still felt millions of eyes watching me though.

I waited. For four days I waited for something to happen. The whole time the music box played a tune I was unfamiliar with.

On the ninth night something finally changed. Instead of the persistent sun, the sky now held a magnanimous, red moon. And the music box I held in my hands was no longer just a music box, it was now a record player. Jazz music poured from its trumpet shaped head and replaced the chiming sounds of the music box.

I had assumed this dream would lead nowhere else tonight, but the wailing of a train horn brought a tinge of hope to my mind.

I rose from the bench in anticipation of the train stopping for me. It slowed down to a roaring stop beside me, close enough I could place my fingers to the glass of the passenger car windows. From outside I could see lights inside the car, but no people, save for a tall black shadow moving down the walkway.

When the door opened I was greeted with a tall, slender human shaped creature. It had no features and wore no clothes, save for a conductor's hat. It was but a black endless void, like looking into space and seeing the small flickers of far away stars. The shadow had two white dots where a face should be, which I assumed were its eyes.

"Ticket?" They held out their hand to me, expecting me to give them the item they requested.

"I...," I looked down at my now bare hands, no music box, no record player, and definitely no ticket, "I don't have one." Did I waste four days of sleep to only be turned away in my own dream?

"That's odd." They scratched their chin, "Everyone gets a ticket when they arrive." They stepped down the stairs of the cabin, "Well, it's your lucky night I suppose, hop aboard." They placed their cold blackened hands on my back and pushed me towards the ashen steps.

This creature seemed far too eager to have me aboard their train, but I thought back to the farm and the truck, and decided I would rather take my chances on this strange black train than wait for those peering eyes to appear. Like a mouse tempting a trap, I stepped onto the first step and a loud wailing erupted from the desert behind me.

"Don't look back." They said as they pressed harder onto my back, pushing me up the last step. Whatever made that sound was waiting for me to leave that bench. What it was, I do not know. Even though this is my dream. I should know what it was.

I picture it as a creature lying await in the sand for me. Wanting to make me its next meal. Perhaps it is a large gaping mouth or an enormous spider. What it actually had to be was my brother flushing the toilet down the hall. My mind was just interrupting the sounds it heard as the worst possible thing.

Inside the train car sat rows and rows of dining cars. Each table is crowded with feasts. Whole chickens and turkeys. Roasted pigs lay out fresh for the picking. Fountains stream chocolate and cheeses in the corners of the car. Salad bars line the left side of the car, and somewhere in the distance I smell pizza baking.

Despite these mountains of food, there is no one to eat it.

"Sit down wherever you like." The creature looms over me. I feel like Gretel facing down the witch. Is all this food for show, or is it meant to fatten me up? And am I the main course?

"Thank you." I find an empty seat by the window. Above me hangs a golden light swinging back and forth to the motion of the train casting a halo over the table.

"How long have you been here?" The figure appeared across from me in a flash of smoke. They pursed their hands under their chin and their white orbs seemed to enlarge in curiosity.

What harm would it be to talk to this creature? This is my dream after all, "About nine days."

"Wow!" I could just barely make out the lines of their mouth, "How are you still alive?"

"Why wouldn't I be? There is nothing here but sand and abandoned structures."

"You didn't see anything?" The white orbs widened further. Yes, those are without a doubt their eyes, "Maybe they were just afraid of you."

"Am I that scary looking?" I laughed without much effort, it's true I do have an intimidating face.

"Well... the things coming out of you are pretty vicious looking." They point to both my left and right shoulder.

"What?" I look down at my body and feel my shoulders but nothing is coming out of me, "There's nothing on me."

"You just can't see them yet. Never mind that though. Why are you here?" Their eyes narrow at something just over my head.

"It's my dream. Why shouldn't I be here?"

Now it's their turn to laugh, "My dear, this is not a dream. This is our home."

My mind has come up with some crazy things before, but this is by far the craziest, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was trespassing."

They laugh once more, "We like this one." A multitude of voices chimed in unison. My heart jumped to my throat. I could feel the voices hit me, it was like drinking a cold soda on an empty stomach. My brother must have turned the TV on very loudly down the hall from my room.

"So..." I peer out into the endless desert. Lights flicker in the distance, seeming to follow my gaze, "If this isn't a dream, and it's your home. Where is your home?"

"Purgatory." They responded in a flat voice.

"I see. And why would I be here? I'm not dead yet." The smell of the food surrounding me makes me realize how hungry I am. One thing my mother always told me, "Don't eat any food in a dream."

"I'm not sure. I suppose we'll have to figure that out."

This dream makes less and less sense the further I go into this slumber, "Where are we going?"

"Wherever you want to go." Before me appears a delicate slice of red velvet cake, "Aren't you hungry?" Felt more like a statement than a question.

I am, but a literal stabbing in my back tells me to not accept any food from this creature, "No, I'm not hungry."

They sigh and the cake disappears, "Oh well, it was worth a try."

"If I ate that what would have happened?" I already know the answer, these rules feel so familiar to me, like an old fairy tale.

I hear them smile, "You would have stayed here with me." They deflate and sink over the table, "Looks like I'll just have to wait for you to die. This is going to be a long ride."

"I suppose when it ends is when I come to a natural death? And then what? You take me to my afterlife destination?" I regret eating the candy bar before bed, and watching that scary movie about religious cults.

A row of sharp white teeth appears across their face, "But you don't have a ticket. You can't get off this ride without a ticket."

"But I can get on? How do I get a ticket?" I'm merely musing myself at this moment. I find myself eager to see where this dream takes me, it's better than walking in sand.

They shrug their shoulders, "A candy jar like you can't get one."

"Candy jar?" Oh shit! I may actually be this thing's lunch. That's not gonna be a pleasant way to wake up.

A long needle-pointed finger jabs at my forehead, "I'm referring to this thing locked away in here. Your soul." The finger trails down my nose, and my heart does a backflip, "Most souls are a boring shade of pale blue, but yours is like a rainbow trapped in a glass bottle. Thus, a candy jar."

I swallow and oh boy did it feel so real, "And why is my soul like a rainbow?"

They open their mouth to speak, but pause as if in thought, "I... can't tell you that yet." A single voice this time, a man's voice with a British accent.

"When can you tell me?" I long for my alarm to go off and take me from this agonizing lucid dream.

They tap their long fingers together, like a villain in a superhero movie, "I can tell you when you start to see the vicious things growing out of you."

I shudder at the thought. Like all my dreams, it's in first person, I wonder who I am in this dream. Most often I'm never really me in my dreams. I've been victims, onlookers, children, disembodied eyes, and killers. But.... I've never been me before.

"Enough of this getting to know each other business!" They clasp their hands together, "How about I tell you a story before you have to get ready for your boring job?"

Sure... why not?