Chapter 28 Hell
We did not have to linger in the silent space between sleep and dreams for long.
By the time we had settled into the bed, the afternoon sun had already slipped beneath the horizon.
Night had to be falling in the waking world.
It seemed even madmen valued a good night's sleep.
Stanhope’s mind was not at all what I thought it would be. It was much worse.
I had not known what to expect when entering his mind.
After Liv's dream, some foolish part of me wondered if every dreamscape possessed its own strange beauty.
Flowers, butterflies, and starlight. Then I remembered whose mind we were entering and expected the opposite.
Fire, brimstone, the damned clawing at the walls.
What I found instead unsettled me far more than the seven hells ever could.
Where Liv had walls of flowers and falling starlight, Stanhope had perfectly smooth, sharp white marble and a cloudless sky.
The sun blared down upon us without any hope of shade.
There were no butterflies here. No birds.
No animals at all. Instead, there were children.
Boys. They stood in two perfect lines along the marble hall.
Each wore the same immaculate uniform. The same neatly cropped hair.
The same vacant, obedient stare. The dreamscape did not feel warm or magical.
It felt sterile, ordered….perfect. As though every living thing had been scrubbed away until only obedience remained.
“Gods...” Raf shuddered, his eyes darting over the endless rows of identical boys. “Welcome to crazy town. This man truly is mad.”
“Let's find what we need and leave.” I continued down the hall, careful not to brush against any of the children. “This place doesn't feel right.”
“No argument there.” Raf hurried after me, shoulders drawn tight as though he could somehow make himself smaller. He gave the nearest boy an especially wide berth.
We moved from window to window. Every memory we found was another piece of the man behind the smile.
Some memories showed him poisoning others to steal their magic.
Others showed the reckonings he orchestrated, every death justified in the name of balance.
Then there was Liv. I lingered at the window for only a heartbeat before moving on.
She did not belong here. We passed another memory of her.
Then another. Then another, scattered among the depravity. I slowed.
“Blacksmith...” He looked through the next window and frowned. “...Why is every third memory her?”
“I was wondering the same.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes lingering on the window. “But that is a question for another time. We still have not found the girls, and I fear we have lingered here long enough.”
We ventured further into his mind but could not find the information we sought.
I paused before a window. A wedding. A bride stood unnaturally still beneath a white veil while pale pink rose petals drifted lazily from the sky.
Nothing moved but the petals. It felt...
obscene. We continued down the hall, careful not to disturb the children who remained eerily frozen.
Finally, we came to a window that held a map.
Stanhope lorded over it with Lucius behind him.
“Blacksmith... is this a dream?” I could not take my eyes from the man who had kidnapped us. The man who had brought Clarissa into our lives... only for her to be stolen from us.
“No.” Raf rested his fingers lightly against the frame.
“This is a memory.” He traced one corner of the marble frame.
“See how it is smooth? No cracks.” I nodded.
“All dreams are some form of memory. But, dreams twist them. The more the mind changes them, the more the frame splinters. But memories...”
He tapped the stone gently. “...stay whole.”
I gulped and made a mental note to let Liv know.
We knew that Lucius had escaped that night.
What we did not know is that he returned to his master’s side, ever the loyal dog.
We watched eagerly as Stanhope pointed to different locations on the map.
Rafael pulled a piece of parchment and a pen from his rucksack and recorded each location of each girl that they intended to hunt.
We moved down the hall, searching for their plans.
We needed more information. What they intended to do... and where they intended to do it.
Before we could find it, we came to a window that was nearly destroyed.
The marble frame surrounding it had begun to crumble.
Veins of black spread through the stone like rot, each fracture widening as though the memory itself were trying to tear free.
I reached for the frame, but Raf grabbed my wrist.
“Wh… What is this?”
He shook his head. “I have only seen this once before.”
He took a long breath, as though unsure how to explain it.
“When one has a memory they cannot bear, one they wish to forget wholly… This is the product of a forced dream. Whatever happened in the waking world that created this memory, Stanhope has spent years trying to convince himself it happened differently.”
He shuddered. “These memories are like scars,” he whispered.
“They want to remain, and so they fight against the mind to stay whole.”
“What could possibly haunt a man so twisted?”
I leaned in, trying to see beyond the haze that clouded the memory.
Raf leaned in beside me. Suddenly, the air shifted, followed by a single echoing footstep.
Every boy in the hall now had their empty eyes fixed on us.
Whatever lay beyond that frame... his mind was protecting it.
Raf’s hand landed on my shoulder as I leaned in closer.
“We need to go!” The boys arms all rose at once, pointing an accusatory finger at us.
“No!” I shook his hand from my shoulder. We could use this against Stanhope, I knew in my gut we could. If only I could see.
“WHO ARE YOU?” The boys’ voices, too deep, sounded in unison. Raf grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him as he began to run down the hall. The boys did not give chase. Their fingers and eyes followed us as we fled from the hall.
“Do not stop! Do not let go!” Raf shouted over his shoulder. We did not stop running until we were out of the hall and the bright pristine dreamscape faded behind us, giving way to the dark space between. He released my hand and I fell to my knees, panting.
“Gods… What in the seven hells?”
Raf stood hunched over, his hands braced against his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.
“Some people’s minds have… defenses.” He took a deep breath.
“Dream walking has always been trial and error.”
He drew another steadying breath. “I have never met another dream walker. Everything I know... I've learned through experience.”
He wiped the sweat from his brow and reached to help me up. I swatted his hand away.
“How do we get out of here?” I looked around the cavernous space as though a door would appear.
“We wake up.” He said it as though it were that simple. Then a smile spread his lips and he placed his hand on my back. “Close your eyes.” His hand moved in slow circles across my back. “Count backwards down from twenty.” I began to count in my head. “No, aloud.”
I did as he instructed. “Twenty…Nineteen…Eighteen…” This is ridiculous.
“Keep going.” He insisted. His voice remained steady. The slow circles never stopped. Before I could reach thirteen, my body lurched upward, and light flooded my eyes.