Dream Slave

By Max Cross

A chilling story that keeps you wondering, what's real and what's just a 'dream'?

A young college freshman wakes up with a massive headache after a party.  She has very little memory about what happened the night before, only that she was coaxed into taking a new designer drug.

The drug seems harmless, yet

• Language: English
• Publisher: SOVEREIGN MEDIA LLC
• Release date: Nov 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781941907108

Book preview

Chapter 1

 The shrill electronic buzzing sound cut deep into Lori’s skull as she struggled to open her eyes. She swung her arm blindly, batting at the source of her torment while she buried her face deeper into her pillow. The bright morning sun flooded her tiny, single dorm room as she clenched her eyes tightly and gritted her teeth, hoping to drown out the steady buzz still radiating from her alarm clock.  

After slapping unidentifiable objects from the bedside table, she heard the sound of plastic striking the bare tiles of the floor. The alarm clock continued to whine as she attempted to push her face away from the pillow, only to discover that both of her arms were weak and rubbery, as if she had been lifting weights for an entire week. 

Lori groaned and rolled onto her side. The ache spread throughout her entire body, as if she had been thrown down multiple flights of stairs. There was a slight ringing sensation in her ears as the throbbing within her head began to intensify, threatening to grow. She sat up and opened her eyes. To her surprise, the light felt similar to a baseball bat striking her in the face. She threw up both of her hands and fell onto her back, bumping her head against the wall her twin-sized bed was pressed up against.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she scooted forward and used her feet to find the fallen alarm clock. She kicked wildly at the floor until her right foot found the round plastic shell screeching out its angry call. Her head felt as if it were about to explode as she twisted her foot around the cord and kicked her leg away from the wall, pulling the plug, hoping to silence the tiny offender. Her victory was short lived as a muted and more high-pitched wail began to come in place of the shrill alarm.

She let out a small, frustrated shout as she swung up into a sitting position and dropped onto her knees, tearing blindly at the bottom of the alarm clock. Her fingers scraped against the plastic latch, which held the backup battery. The tiny door snapped off as her fingers tore away at the tiny 9-Volt, feeling the connection wires snapping as she hurled it, as well as the clock, in two separate directions.

The sound of cracking plastic and a dull thud caused the pounding in her head to grow more intense. Falling to the floor, Lori gripped the sides of her head and curled up into the fetal position. She wanted to scream; the pain was so intense it was as if something inside her head compressed her brain from within her skull.

Despite the silence blanketing the room, she could still hear a high-pitched ringing in her ears, growing louder by the second. Lori screamed, and twisted, wishing she could shut her eyes tighter as her entire body began to throb with an unbearable pain. Her muscles twitched and tightened, causing her body to spasm as she writhed on the cold, hard floor. 

She felt the pounding grow from the back of her head, like a bass drum, thumping steadily as it resonated throughout her entire body. Her neck felt stiff as she lost control of her movements, her body stiffening, and then relaxing as she cried out loud.

Her head twisted quickly as she felt the bones in her neck crack loudly with a flash of white. As the echo of her neck passed through her head, her entire body relaxed, and the pain was reduced to a mild throbbing in the back of her head once again.

Rolling onto her back, Lori began to laugh and sob all at once. The pain was so severe and unexpected, and she was terrified.

What happened? she whispered to herself, cautiously opening her eyes as the light of the room made the front of her head tighten from within. The only light was leaking through the bare window next to her bed as she slowly rose up to a sitting position. She was in her college dorm room, and nothing was out of place, yet the entire room felt oddly unfamiliar and hostile to her.

The off-white walls were bare except for the full-length mirror and analog wall clock, which had been there when she signed for the room. The wooden doors of her closet were worn and scratched from years of abuse, and the small desk pushed up against the opposite wall had books piled up with a tiny desk lamp. She had been living here for an entire semester, yet this morning she felt like a stranger waking up in someone else’s house.

Her eyes began to focus as she spotted herself in the mirror. She was still wearing her clothes, minus shoes and socks. Her long brown hair was a tangled mess of knots resting in a huge pile on the top of her head. Her eyes looked swollen, and her makeup was smeared all over as if she had tried to wipe it off with her sleeve. A small cut on her bottom lip was tender, and pain shot out as she touched it lightly with her fingertip. Her hands were scratched and stained with dirt, and either mud or lipstick.

Lowering her hands, she noticed her jeans were torn and there were dark stains all over them. Her long-sleeve shirt was also ragged, with holes and darker shades of black. Her leather jacket was tossed into a corner of the room, piled up with her shoes and socks.

She slowly rose to her feet. What the hell happened last night? she asked the ragged girl in the mirror, praying that her headache would subside long enough to recall the previous night’s adventures.

The ache in her body lessened as she rose to her feet, using the chair in her room to stabilize herself as she straightened. Her legs felt shaky and weak, and she opened her closet door to dig out her shower kit.

Her mouth was dry and her throat parched as she envisioned the cool water from