Nightmares

As the sun was beginning to get low in the sky, we arrived at our next planned campsite, mostly unharmed. Thoughts of the previous night still haunted me, mostly images and waves of emotion, but I had recovered just enough to feel normal again. Well, as normal as possible in a dangerous and alien world.

The party got down to the business of setting up camp, and by the time the sun had fully set, we had a healthy campfire going and layered defenses to keep us safe. I noticed how well the team worked together already; everyone knew their tasks, everyone delivered on what they needed to do, and all of it made for a reassuring process. Under other circumstances, this might have been a fun little jaunt across the country with a handful of very capable acquaintances.

It wasn’t long before everything was done and we were free to get comfortable by the fire and tuck into an evening meal. The dinner chat was subdued; the late start in the morning had forced everyone to push themselves more than planned, and exhaustion was taking hold. All that was left now was to sleep, and everyone made their way to their tents gratefully once the meal was through.

Sleeping was, for me at least, easier said than done. The fear of the maid appearing suddenly and whisking me away to commit more horrific crimes meant that I lay on my cot with one eye open, tiredness warring with tension. I felt like I would never be able to fully relax again. Eventually, though, the long day of travel and sleep deprivation from the previous night forced my body to shut down and give in to sleep.

I woke to my wife brushing my hair with the back of her fingers gingerly. The touch was light but warm. I blinked, her smile still fuzzy to my half-asleep eyes. I could only slightly make out the pattern of the pajamas she wore, the ones that matched mine. But even with my limited vision, I knew that her face was the brightest thing I would ever see.

I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Good morning, sweetie,” she whispered softly in my ear, her hand resting on my chest as she sat beside me. We were in bed, and I was on my back. Sun streamed in from the window. I could feel the softness of the bed linens beneath me, I could hear the hum of the air conditioner running, but mostly I could sense her. Her presence immediately lulled me into a safe and cozy place.

“Hello,” I murmured. “I had the strangest dream…” I dragged my arm across my face in exasperation, thinking with a shudder about the twisted torture my subconscious mind had created. “I got sent to another world in some kind of war.”

“A war?” she asked. I felt her finger idly trailing along my collarbone.

I nodded. “Everything was terrifying. Even the plants and animals were deadly. And there was this prince - that god forsaken prince! If he was real, so help me I woul-”

“You would what?” My wife’s voice sounded different. Deeper somehow. The comforting hand on my chest suddenly felt hard and menacing, and the light touch had become an almost crushing pressure bearing down on my sternum.

Wide awake now, I jerked my eyes back to where she had been sitting, but she was gone. The demonic prince was in her place. He was wearing the pajamas she’d had on, and he was perched in my bed, his hand on my chest, staring down at me with that dark, empty smile.

I felt my entire body spasm as I threw myself back, twisting and contorting as I thrashed in the bedsheets. I couldn’t get away from him, but that didn’t stop me from desperately trying. My mouth opened in a scream, but no sound came out. I felt like I was choking and falling all at once, and the whole time, I felt the prince’s impishly evil gaze on me. The last thing I saw was the corner of my nightstand as I smashed my forehead into it, still searching for escape.

I jolted awake to Andra leaning into my tent with her hand raised, poised to chop at my face. The throbbing of my head told me she already struck once.

“Sleeping that heavy is dangerous here,” she said. “Next time it won’t end with just one hit.” She cracked her knuckles and curled her fingers at me, emphasizing her claws. I gasped, trying to catch my breath as I registered her words. My heartbeat throbbed in my ears. For a long moment, we stared at each other. Then she abruptly laughed and turned around, slipping out of the tent. “Food’s gettin’ cold, get up already.”

The throbbing was receding; I no longer felt like I was on the verge of a heart attack. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to my feet and followed her out of the tent to the campfire.

As the morning progressed, I kept thinking about my dream.

I had fled. Or rather, I’d tried to. I ran. I hadn’t been able to face him.

Every time I had thought about that monstrous royal during my waking hours, I had resolved to avenge the time he took from me. I resolved to get back at him for all the suffering he had caused, and would continue to cause. I would sometimes almost tremble with the intensity of my desire to punish the smug bastard for ripping me from my life and my family.

But in my dream, when he was sitting right in front of me, I had tried to escape. I hadn’t fought back at all.

It was time to pack and get on the road again. As I rummaged through my belongings, stuffing them into my bag halfheartedly, I pondered it all.

He’s smarter than me. He’s wiser than me. He knows this world far better, and he has that killer maid to boot. What chance do I have?

I’d read so many isekais growing up. In most of the stories, the protagonists applied knowledge of their “real” lives to the new, often fantastical situation they found themselves in. They were usually able to take some control back and even thrive in unfamiliar surroundings. I looked dubiously around me. How could I apply anything like that here? I didn’t have any relevant skills that would give me a leg up in this world.

I’m nothing compared to him and his position.

As the helplessness was taking root, its cold tendrils wrapping around my spine, I reached into my bag and felt something unexpected. Recognition made my eyes widen, and I felt a spark of inspiration.

I burst out of my tent and looked around frantically. My eyes fell on the still hot firepit, now mostly extinguished, and I rushed over to it. Without hesitation, I reached into the smoking pile of black wood and pulled out a lump of charcoal.

“What in the hells are you doing?” I heard Andra exclaim behind me as Estelar appeared beside me, frowning at the minor burns I had just incurred.

“Does anyone have needles?” I asked, ignoring the surprise and concern of my companions. “I’d like to do some minor repairs on my gear before we leave. My clothes have a few tears that I can sew up quickly.”

After a moment of stunned silence in which the three of them exchanged confused looks, Pira reached into her bag and produced a few sewing needles with thread attached. I could tell they weren’t exactly what I was looking for, but I could make do. I reached for them, but Estelar put a hand on my arm, pausing my movements. He wordlessly applied a salve to my burns and wrapped a clean cloth around my hand, and I held still long enough for him to finish the job.

The moment he looked satisfied, I dove back into my tent to work. I heard Andra calling out after me with a tone of frustration, but I barely registered it. Any and all words of protest went unheard as my fixation on my mission drowned all else out.

Reaching into my bag again, I withdrew the item I had rediscovered: a sheaf of paper. I spread the papers out on the ground and began vigorously coating each one with the charcoal. My fingers turned black from the effort, and the bandage Estelar had given me went gray with soot. Once I had finished, I pressed the pages together and sewed the bundle into the inside of my pant leg. Mission accomplished.

I emerged apologetically from my tent, meeting the stares of my teammates. They looked varying degrees of annoyed with me, Andra most of all.

“Sorry about that, I just had to do that right away,” I said, shrugging in what I hoped was an affable fashion. “So should we get on the road?”