Dreamstryder

By Kyle Hynes

As a child, Peter Jacoby is plagued by terrible and extraordinarily realistic nightmares. His parents take him to a local psychologist, Dr. Raymond, to help him overcome the problem, giving him the chance to lead a normal life.

As a young adult, Peter is a gifted university student studying to become a child psychologistbut the traumatic experiences of his early childhood seem to hide a secret of his past, one his parents have carefully kept from him. He remembers the dreams, however, and begins research on the topic, with the help of one of his professors, Dr. Haddenfield, and a fellow student named Jessica. Gradually, they learn the truth about Peters past and his conditionand it is stranger than they could have imagined. Peter soon finds himself traveling through his dreams to a strange and sometimes deadly new world, with intimate ties to the earth he knows. On his journey, however, he uncovers more than he bargained for, revealing an enemy that threatens to destroy not just Peter but the entire world.

In this dark fantasy novel, a young man discovers the untold capabilities and potential of his own mindand in the process encounters an evil force intent on unleashing demons upon the earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491772607

Kyle Hynes

Kyle Hynes is from Shawville, Quebec, Canada, but works and lives in the nation’s capital with his wife and their two dogs, Jack and Baillie. He enjoys playing music in his spare time. This is his first published novel.

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DREAMSTRYDER

Copyright © 2015 Kyle Hynes.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4917-7261-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-7262-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-7260-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015914073

iUniverse rev. date: 10/15/2015

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1    The Beginning

Chapter 2    A Case In Study

Chapter 3    A Different Point Of View

Chapter 4    Going Under

Chapter 5    Secrets Revealed

Chapter 6    Enter Exodus

Chapter 7    In Theory

Chapter 8    Back To Where We Were Before

Chapter 9    Thorn In Your Side

Chapter 10    And So It Begins

Chapter 11    Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

Chapter 12    All The King’s Horses

Chapter 13    Reporting Back

Chapter 14    Back To The Old Grind

Chapter 15    Where Did It All Come From?

Chapter 16    On The Road Again

Chapter 17    That Smell

Chapter 18    Shedding Light

Chapter 19    Preparing To Go Back

Chapter 20    Sticks And Swords

Chapter 21    Into New Lands

Chapter 22    Introduction To Evil

Chapter 23    I Put A Spell On You

Chapter 24    Sanctuary

Chapter 25    The Horseman Cometh

Chapter 26    Now What?

Chapter 27    The War Has Just Begun

Chapter 28    Preparing For The Last Charge

Chapter 29    The Ferryman

Chapter 30    The Sword, The Coin, And The Sacrifice

Chapter 31    Sink Or Swim

Chapter 32    Shipwrecked

Chapter 33    Death Awaits Us All

Chapter 34    Brothers In Arms

Chapter 35    Truth Be Told

Chapter 36    Reunited

Chapter 37    The Old Door

Chapter 38    Everything Comes To An End?

PROLOGUE

W hat is a dream? Is it something that happens to us at night when we sleep, showing us our innermost desires and fantasies, or is it something more? Could it be a sign, symbol, warning, or message that our unconscious mind is trying to deliver to us in its own language? Or, could it be something even greater?

What if what we saw in our dreams was something else? What if the things that we see when we sleep are not always figments of our imaginations? What if — our nightmares were real?

We humans use only a tiny portion of our brains during our day-to-day lives. There is so much that we still don’t know about these unlocked mysteries of our minds and what possibilities they hold. How would these newfound abilities react with the parts of our brains that we already use? Are there senses that we use that we haven’t begun to tap into yet? Many of us have experienced déjà vu and have found ourselves searching for its meaning. We feel as though we have been there before or have already done that. What if, without knowing it, some have managed to tap into this vast wealth of wonder and possibility within ourselves?

So, how are we to know where the truth lies? Are we just elaborate forms of bacteria, going about our lives on a rock in the universe, or are we the creations of a higher power? Could we be spirits or souls who are meant to be recycled infinitely through reincarnation? If that is the case, where did we come from? How did it start?

Like the brain and the untold secrets that it holds, we have only discovered a sliver of our universe. There are millions of stars and galaxies out there and it would be foolish to believe that there isn’t something similar to our world. There could be something else, millions of miles away, likely something that we may never find or even begin to understand.

What if when we dream, a small part of us is able to travel to these unknown worlds and what we know as reality could be shifted? What if what we saw in our dreams was real? What if our version of reality as we know it is only the beginning of something greater? It would seem that we only hold a small piece of a very large and elaborate puzzle. If these facts were revealed to us, would they shake the very foundation of our beliefs, knowledge, and faith, to the point of rewriting history books? We’ve only known that the world is round for about two and a half millenniums. In another two and a half millenniums, what will the human race have discovered?

What if we are each holding parts to the same puzzle — only, we don’t know it yet? Everyone involved could hold a vital part of the answer. What if we set our differences aside, opened our minds to new possibilities and combined our knowledge, faith, beliefs, and spirituality to work towards a common aim? Instead of putting so much effort into proving the other sides wrong, what if we just worked together? What if science could have faith, religion could accept facts, and spirituality could embrace its two counterparts? Think of the limitless potential we could achieve. What if everything we thought to be true was only a small part of the whole truth? What if there is something else that we haven’t discovered and if it was made known to us, it could change our outlook on everything? What if what we saw in our dreams was real? What if our dreams had real-world repercussions and consequences? What if we could scratch the surface of a new reality and change our perception of vast new worlds?

What if?

CHAPTER 1

THE BEGINNING

N o, stay away! Mommy help me! he cried as he tossed and turned in bed.

Lightning crashed against the darkness of the night. The wind howled as it raced around the house on a stormy summer night. It sounded like shrill screams, muffled by the thunderous sound of heavy rain on the rural family home. With each flash of lightning came dark and eerie shadows cast across the young boy’s bedroom. It is not uncommon for a young boy to imagine monsters under his bed, nor to have scary dreams, but for Peter Jacoby, it was a frequent occurrence. He sat up in bed with the blankets tightly clenched in his fists as he cried out for his parents. Another flash of lightning revealed a dark, shadowy figure, hunched over in the corner of the room by the closet. It was unlike the other shadows in the room that were cast by the storm; this shadow seemed to completely eclipse anything behind it. Peter dove under the covers and then quickly popped his head out from under them, only to see the figure slowly stand up straight and walk towards his bed. Its movements were unnatural. It stomped towards him as if its legs were weighed down, and its head jerked violently back and forth. Peter dove under the covers again and cried out for help. A loud crack of thunder shook the house. Peter was afraid to pop his head out again to look but he had to know for sure. He slowly came out from under the blankets once more to find the shadowy figure standing right beside his bed, with one arm reaching out to grab him. Peter pulled back in his bed and tried to scream, but no words came out. The shadow came closer with its dark, clawed hand, reaching out for the boy. Peter closed his eyes and tried to scream again but nothing came out except for his own breath as his fear had completely overwhelmed him. The room was illuminated with another flash of lightning when Peter’s mother broke into the room and rushed over to his bedside.

Peter, wake up! Wake up! It’s just a nightmare! Come on sweetie, wake up! his mother yelled as she shook the boy, trying to get him back to his senses.

Mommy, there’s a monster in my room! Peter cried hysterically.

No, Peter, we’ve been over this. There are no such things as monsters, his mother assured him.

I saw it! Peter sobbed.

It’s just the storm dear. Go back to bed and I’ll see you in the morning, okay? his mother said.

Can you sing me my rainbow song? Peter asked.

Peter’s mother began to sing him his favourite lullaby: Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Peter had never seen the classic movie it was from, but his mother had sang him that song many nights since he was a baby as she rocked him to sleep. It didn’t take long before he was fast asleep again. His mother turned on his nightlight and left the door open before she went back to bed.

Over the next few months, Peter’s bad dreams slowly dwindled away. He awoke one beautiful Saturday morning, got out of bed, dressed himself, and went downstairs for breakfast. His favourite Saturday morning ritual consisted of sprawling out on the floor with his bowl of cereal as he watched his favourite cartoons. Most of the time he never finished his cereal because he got so wrapped up in the show that the cereal turned soggy and he deemed it inedible. His father and mother were in the kitchen, going about their usual Saturday morning routines too. His father would sit at the table reading the paper with his coffee and rye toast with butter. Peter and his father looked alike in many ways. Neither of them would stick out in a crowd since neither of them had any noteworthy features or distinguishing traits, except for one. Peter had what he called his butterfly scar on the inside of his right arm, where his forearm met his bicep. One day he had pulled his mother’s hot curling iron off the bathroom countertop by its cord. It landed on his forearm and bicep, and when it did, he instinctively flexed his arm, causing the hot curling iron to leave an elongated scar. It looked like a butterfly when he extended his arm. Peter and his father both had dark brown hair and green eyes. While Mr. Jacoby wore glasses and had aging hair and a beard, you could look at the two of them and be fairly certain that they were father and son. His mother was quite ordinary in her appearance as well. She had long brown hair and brown eyes. Although she never revealed her true age, she would constantly receive comments about how youthful she looked. She always replied that it was came from an overall happy attitude towards life, plenty of laughter, and keeping the mind and body busy with her gardening. Each Saturday, she would be in the kitchen tidying up and getting ready for the usual afternoon trip to Peter’s doctor, while she drank her tea.

Peter, get ready to go see Dr. Raymond. We are leaving in ten minutes, Mrs. Jacoby said.

My show isn’t over yet though, Peter said.

Now please! his mother demanded as Peter got up and started to get ready.

You could have let him finish the last of the show, you know, Mr. Jacoby said.

You could be more helpful instead of sleeping through all his nightmares and making me get up all the time, Mrs. Jacoby replied.

Hey, you know my medication knocks me out. I can’t help it. Don’t make this out to be my fault, Mr. Jacoby replied firmly.

Whatever, just help Pete get ready so we can get going, please, Mrs. Jacoby said.

Okay, no problem. Oh, before I forget, please pick me up a refill on my prescription at the pharmacy while you’re out. I’m running low again, Mr. Jacoby asked.

Fine, but hurry up please, we’re running late, Mrs. Jacoby said.

Mr. Jacoby helped Peter get his coat and shoes on as his mother rushed out the door to the truck. They followed her out of the house and said their goodbyes, and then they were off to the doctor's. Dr. Raymond had been Peter’s doctor for a few months. He was a child psychologist as well as a medical doctor. The family had employed his services because Peter was not the type to make many friends at school. His parents thought that it might have something to do with his overactive imagination and lack of sleep. The only social outlet he had was the neighbour’s son, Max Holloway. Although Peter’s parents encouraged him to interact with Max more often, it didn’t seem to change their son’s unusual ways. Peter’s parents hoped that Dr. Raymond would be able to help him overcome his issues so that he had a chance of leading a normal life.

Peter’s mother parked the truck in the parking lot and gathered her son to go inside the doctor’s office. Peter never fully remembered each visit to see the doctor. His mother and Dr. Raymond assured him that everything was fine and they were working hard now to help him in the future. His mother took his hand and started towards the office. She notified the receptionist that they were ready for their afternoon appointment and they took a seat to wait. It wasn’t long before the doctor came out and took them into his office to start the session. Dr. Raymond was what you may expect a middle-aged doctor to look like. He never wore the typical white doctor’s coat, but instead usually wore casual suits like a university professor, with patches on the elbows. He had dark, thin hair, a thick beard, and tiny circular-framed glasses. He told Peter to sit down on his usual leather couch, which Peter thought was uncomfortable. His mother sat in another chair in the room, not far away. Dr. Raymond started the session.

So Peter, how are you doing today? Dr. Raymond asked.

Fine.

How is your friend Max?

Good.

That’s good. Are you sleeping any better these days?

Yeah.

Do you have any other problems? Do you remember any bad things or anything really scary?

Nope.

Peter got up off the uncomfortable leather couch and started walking towards the glass shelving on one side of the room. He was particularly fascinated by some of the things that the doctor had there. Most of them seemed to be trophies and other sorts of achievement awards, but some seemed to be just decorative items. His mother cautioned him to be careful and not to touch anything. Although there were many objects on the shelf, Peter became very interested in one item in particular. It was a very small, glass-like ball on a chain that appeared to have no practical use. It cast small rainbows around the room as the sun hit it through the window. Such an item to a small child would seem to have magical properties. Peter could hear his mother and Dr. Raymond talking quietly behind him about something but he didn’t care—as long as they were leaving soon. His mother shook the doctor’s hand and she announced that it was time to go. Peter was just happy that this was another short visit. His mother walked over and took Peter’s hand, thanked Dr. Raymond again, then headed for the door.

If you have any other problems, please call me, Dr. Raymond said.

They got in the truck and headed to the pharmacy to pick up the prescription. Peter was eager to go home, so when he noticed that his mother had turned right instead of left on their usual route, he spoke up.

"Mom, where are we going?

We have to pick up daddy’s pills, then we are going home. Don’t worry, we won’t be long.

Why does daddy take pills? Peter asked.

Because daddy has a hard time sleeping sometimes and these pills help him sleep the whole night, his mother told him.

Peter was satisfied with the answer and turned to look out the window. He was too young to understand how insomnia worked, so his mother tried to explain it as best as she could so he wouldn’t worry. She parked the truck on the side of the street and walked in to get the prescription. Just as she’d said, she was only gone a few minutes and was back out in the truck. When they got back to their house, Max was playing by himself across the street. Peter glanced over with a tiny grin on his face. His mother noticed Peter staring over at the boy.

You know, supper won’t be ready for a little while, why don’t you go over and play with Max and I will call you when supper is ready? his mother suggested.

Okay, Peter said.

Peter sauntered over and met Max playing in a sandbox with many of his shiny new trucks and tractors. Max was of average height and size, had light-coloured eyes and dark brown hair, and he wore his usual torn and frayed jeans with his rough looking shirts. His appearance didn't reflect his parent's financial status as much as it reflected Max's powerful imagination. He could immerse himself in his own little worlds at times, which took its toll on his clothing. Max knew how he got each tiny hole and rip in his clothing and wore them as childhood badges of honour. It was their unique personalities that drew these two misfits together and created their unusual bond. Peter stood there unnoticed for a while, watching Max and trying to understand what he was doing. Peter concluded that it must be big. Max had dug holes all over and was sitting on a big pile of sand.

What are you doing? Peter asked.

Building a fort. Need a good foundation first. Then after that, we have to dig for water. One of the guys who runs the digger called in sick today, want to help? Max said.

Okay, Peter replied, as he joined Max’s fort project.

The boys played in the sandbox for a few hours, constructing the sand fort that Max had in mind. Peter’s mother could see them from her kitchen window as she prepared Peter’s favourite meal. Peter loved his mother’s spaghetti and meatballs with her homemade sauce that had been passed down from her mother. Clouds eventually started to roll in to chase away the clear blue skies of the afternoon and the boys felt a few tiny droplets of rain hit their faces.

Looks like we might not have to dig for water after all, Max said.

What about your fort? It’s going to be ruined, asked Peter.

Yeah, maybe. We can always start again tomorrow. Besides, wet sand is better for fort building anyway, Max assured Peter.

Peter! It’s starting to rain and supper is almost ready. Come home please, his mother called.

I got to go, Peter said.

Okay. See you later, Max said as he got up to go inside.

Peter ran across the street and into his house. He was welcomed at the door with the familiar aroma of his mother’s spaghetti sauce and immediately became excited. He kicked off his sandy shoes and met his father, who was reading the paper at the table, as usual. Peter jumped up on the chair with a big smile on his face, waiting for supper to be ready. His mother set the table and sat down to join them.

Looks good dear, Mr. Jacoby said.

Thank you, Mrs. Jacoby replied.

Looks like another storm coming in tonight, Peter said.

Yes, but it’s dinner and then bed for you, mister. It’s already getting late, his mother said.

Aw come on mom, can’t I stay up a little later? Please? Peter asked.

Sorry, but the answer is no. Now, clean your plate and head upstairs for a bath and bed, his mother said.

Peter cleaned his plate and put it in the sink and stomped upstairs to get ready for his nightly bath. He had a bath, washed his face, brushed his teeth and went to bed. His father came in to check on him, turned on his night light, and left the door open for him. Peter lay in bed, staring out the window at the rainy night, watching the water streak down the window. Soon, the peaceful sound of the raindrops hitting his window lulled him to sleep.

First, there was blackness and then the sound of a scream. Peter had no idea where he was and no matter where he ran, all that surrounded him was an endless blackness. He tried yelling out but no words came. He heard an evil laugh and felt a presence near him. He tried running away from it but still, he couldn’t see where he was going. No matter how fast he tried to run, he felt the presence get closer and closer to him, even though he could not see it. He felt as though weights had been tied around his legs and that he had been made to run in a swamp. He tripped and collapsed, then turned to face the presence that had been chasing him. He raised his hand over his head to shield himself from any harm. The presence grabbed him, picked him up, and then let go of him. Peter felt as though he was falling through the empty blackness and felt the sensation of hitting the ground, suddenly waking up in his bed with the sun shining through the window. He was relieved to discover that it had only been a dream. So, he got up out of bed, got dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast. On his way down the stairs, he heard a commotion outside. He grabbed a kitchen chair and pushed it over towards the window so he could see what was going on outside. He saw men with trucks and boxes at Max’s house across the street.

What’s going on mom? Peter asked as he looked out the window at all the commotion.

Looks like the neighbours are moving. What do you want to eat? his mother replied.

Where are they going? asked Peter, with a concerned look on his face.

I don’t know.

Can I go over?

No. It’s best that you stay here and eat and not get in the way, his father said.

A growing boy like you can’t expect to help out with anything if he doesn’t eat and increase his strength. Sit down and eat something, said his mother.

His father grabbed the chair Peter was standing on and dragged it back over to the table. He sat Peter down on his chair and his mother handed him a bowl of cereal. Peter ate as much as he could and then put his bowl in the sink.

Can I go over now? Please? Peter begged.

Okay but, under one condition. If you get in the way or if they ask you to come back home, you come home, okay? his father said.

Okay, thanks dad! Peter said as he rushed to get his shoes and coat on to go outside.

As Peter ran out the door, the men closed up the truck and drove away. He yelled down the street at them to wait but they were too far away. Now, the only friend that Peter had in the world had just left him without even so much as a goodbye. He walked over to the sandbox where they had been playing the night before and sat down on the mound of sand where Max had been sitting. His mother looked out the kitchen window at her little boy sitting in the sandbox across the street. At first he did nothing but sit there with his head down. He had a look on his face that showed many emotions. He looked like he was confused, angry, and about to cry, even though he didn’t shed a tear. Then slowly, he started building up the walls of the fort that he and his friend had tried to build the day before. Peter figured it was the best thing to do since Max would have wanted to finish building it. Mrs. Jacoby watched her son play by himself in the neighbour’s yard and a look of concern covered her face. She tapped Mr. Jacoby on the shoulder and pointed out the window. Mr. Jacoby got up to see what had forced the look of concern on his wife’s face. They both stood in silence and watched a very lonely boy who had just lost the only friend he had in the world.

CHAPTER 2

A CASE IN STUDY

M any years had passed since he was a boy. Peter had grown into a fine young man with aspirations of becoming a child psychologist someday. The university where he had applied was only half an hour from his parents’ house, so he stayed at home to save some money. Not much had changed over the years for Peter, as far as a social life went; he tended to keep mostly to his studies. He preferred to sit outside under a tree somewhere on a sunny day, wrapped up in his studies, than be out socializing at the local pub like the other guys his age. Peter’s childhood experiences had driven him into his field of study. He wanted to better understand the events that occurred in his own childhood. This obsession, apart from some other childhood experiences, had been the reason for why he isolated himself from others. The sudden loss of his only childhood friend had left emotional scars that made him reluctant to make friends ever again. He felt that he could avoid the hardships if he just abandoned the idea completely. Although Peter wasn’t aware of how damaging some of his childhood experiences were, he was not at all interested in investigating the matter and was content to let it go.

His professor at the university, Dr. James Haddenfield, was a well-respected child psychologist in his field. He held Peter in high regard as one of the top students in his class. Dr. Haddenfield was a much older man and very wise. He resembled a grandfather-like figure to Peter with his gray hair, glasses, and cane. Dr. Haddenfield noticed something special in Peter and became curious of his motives in the field, but hadn’t found the opportunity to ask him about it. He saw that Peter had a thirst for knowledge—he was very involved in their daily lectures and frequently asked questions after class. Dr. Haddenfield recognized all of this and was more than happy to lend his insights to Peter’s questions. One day in class, Dr. Haddenfield gave a lecture on children and their dreams. He demonstrated how stress and other factors can manifest themselves in a child’s dreams and how they can be interpreted. Of course, this topic was of great interest to Peter, and he hung on every word during the lecture.

So in conclusion, we can see that a combination of stress and isolation could lead to a child needing something like an imaginary world to compensate for his needs and wants in the real world. This could be anything from having an imaginary friend to believing that he can travel to a world that doesn’t exist—all to escape the problems he is faced with in the real world. We have to find out the source of the child’s issues to be able to treat the problems. Always remember to treat the problem, not the symptoms. This will be your job, Dr. Haddenfield concluded.

Could the child become aggressive? a student asked.

If the trauma is severe enough and depending on how long the trauma has existed, yes, they could, Dr. Haddenfield answered.

Is every case treatable? another student asked.

Of course, every case is treatable. Not every case is curable. Some issues are so deeply rooted that it will be impossible for them to lead a normal life. In this case, do what you can to make daily life manageable for the patient. You will see this over the course of your career on a case-by-case basis. Some will take longer than others and some will be more taxing than others, Dr. Haddenfield answered.

Could these traumas present themselves as dreams or hallucinations? Peter asked.

In some cases, yes they can. It is not common for the symptoms to progress that far but with therapy and medication, the problems should subside. Usually in this case you will find severe traumas or repressed memories stemming from one or a few major events in the child’s past. Retrieving those facts can prove to be difficult but there are some ways to approach that, Dr. Haddenfield said.

He paused for a second and then announced the end of class. All the students got up from their seats and started to head for the door. Dr. Haddenfield returned to his desk, sat down, put his glasses on, and started writing in a book on his desk. Peter got up from his seat and headed for the front of the room, passing by the other students going the opposite way. He finally reached the front of the room where Dr. Haddenfield was waiting for him.

Yes Peter, what can I help you with this time? Dr. Haddenfield asked without raising his eyes off the pages as he continued to write.

Just a quick question Sir. Do most of those symptoms mean something or are they just a product of the child’s imagination? I know you mentioned where they come from and why but…do the dreams and hallucinations mean something? Like a warning sign of something to come, or to let us know if something bad will happen? Peter asked.

That is a long debated topic. Some specialists think that they do not mean anything and others think that they represent aspects of our life figuratively. For example, you have a dream that you are flying. Some say that this is merely a dream where someone desires to fly like a superhero and that is the only interpretation. On the other hand, some see it differently depending on the condition of flying, Dr. Haddenfield explained.

What do you mean? Peter asked.

Well, if you are flying in your dream and you have no problems, it can signify that you are on top of a current situation or can symbolize the power and control you currently have in your life, Dr. Haddenfield said.

What about if you fall? Peter asked.

That might suggest you do not have control. If there are say, trees or hydro wires blocking your way, this could symbolize someone or something in your life that is hindering you. Of course, this is purely speculation. This is one of those things that you either believe in or don’t. It’s open to interpretation, Dr. Haddenfield explained.

Okay, so what about violent dreams? Peter questioned.

Peter’s question piqued Dr. Haddenfield’s interest. He now had a perfect opportunity to pick Peter’s brain and find out the root cause of his drive. Dr. Haddenfield did not want Peter to know his intentions and he knew he had to proceed carefully. He knew that Peter would surely lose all respect for him if he found out that Dr. Haddenfield was treating him like a patient. Still, he needed to dig deeper for his own curiosities and for scientific purposes.

What do you mean? Like murder or war? Dr. Haddenfield asked.

No…like ghosts or evil spirits, Peter replied.

Well, that also depends on the situation. If the evil spirit or demon is helping you in the dream, it could mean something like a decision that you made may have been morally wrong. I assume that you are looking for the opposite? Dr. Haddenfield said.

Yes, Peter replied.

Demons in dreams trying to hurt or hinder you could mean that you may be experiencing or inflicting fear, emotional distress, or physical abuse in your waking life. Demons are also symbolic of ignorance or negative habits. You could be letting some negativity give way to your better judgment. Alternatively, the demons may represent a past secret that is still haunting you, or helplessness. There wouldn’t be any personal reason to these questions would there? Dr. Haddenfield said.

Kind of…but I have to get going, I’m going to be late for my next class. Thank you for the information sir, Peter said.

No problem, Peter, anytime. If you ever need to know more or would like to talk more about this or any subject, please come see me anytime. I don’t live far away, Dr. Haddenfield said with a concerned tone in his voice.

I will sir. Thanks again, Peter said as he headed for the door.

The conversation with Dr. Haddenfield sparked Peter’s fiery curiosity. He lied about having a class because he wanted to head straight for the library on campus to research the subject. He could hardly contain himself as he got on his bike and pedalled as hard as he could for the library. He finally arrived, parked his bike, and rushed in. He passed by Mrs. Lemay, the librarian who had become like a friend to him. Peter spent most of his lunch breaks and free time in the library studying and following his own interests. Since he was there often, they became acquainted with each other. She was an older woman and had always been very kind to him. She was fairly short with light brown curly hair and glasses that she wore on a chain around her neck. She always greeted Peter with her warm smile every time he visited the library, which made his lonely trips there more pleasant. He approached her and asked about the books he was looking for.

Hey, Mrs. Lemay, how are you today? Peter asked.

Fine, thank you. What can I help you with today Peter? she asked.

I’m looking for a book on dreams. I want to find out what they could mean or…what they can tell you, Peter said.

Another paper that you are working on for your class? Mrs. Lemay asked.

…Kind of. Do you have anything like that? Peter asked.

I should…check the card file to be sure, she said.

Peter thanked her and went to the card file. He found several books on the subject and saw that most of them were in the same area of the library. He walked over to the section where they were listed and combed the shelves. He took a few off the shelf and browsed through them but nothing seemed to be quite what he was looking for. Then he came upon a fairly large book that claimed to be a dream dictionary which also offered more in-depth interpretation to dreams by combining different meanings. Peter decided that this was what he was looking for and he sat down at a table by himself and he started looking through the book. The book had described the evil spirits in his dreams just the way that Dr. Haddenfield had explained them. This intrigued Peter even more as he searched deeper and deeper into the book. Peter began cross referencing every detail he remembered in his dreams against other details to find a hidden meaning or message. He decided to get up from the table and recheck the section to see if there was any more books that might help him. As he pulled his chair away from the table, he abruptly stopped when he heard books hit the floor.

Ouch. Watch out, a voice said.

Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Here, let me help you with those, Peter said as he rushed to pick up the books.

Peter picked them up and then saw who he had bumped into. She was a girl with brown hair and piercing blue eyes. She had her hair up in a ponytail and was wearing red-framed glasses. She dressed conservatively, but also with a modern twist. Peter thought she had an appealing figure too, which was accentuated by a well-worn pair of jeans. Peter looked at her for a second and handed her the books.

I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. Do I know you? I think I’ve seen you before, Peter asked.

"I’m in your class with Dr. Haddenfield. I sit two rows behind you. My name is Jessica Matheson. You’re a pretty smart guy…I think the