“Nightmares exist outside of logic, and there’s little fun to be had in explanations; they’re antithetical to the poetry of fear.” – Stephen King
Walking in a Burton-esque house my usual lack of grace makes me trip over thin air. Looking down I realize it’s difficult to distinguish the black and white tiles they are so covered in grime, much less search for something I would have stumbled over. There is an insistent hissing coming from behind me that only intensifies if my progress forwards slows. The noise, although threatening, isn’t aggressive. More of a corralling force rather than one about to pounce. The being only stops once I reach the end of the hallway and must choose the door to my left, right or center. To my left I hear the droning of my two high school math teachers, fearing proofs I quickly dismiss that door and focus instead on the other two. To my right is an immaculate door. Perfectly polished and clean. The detailing in the door would make a Louis XIV collector drool. However something about it seems off. Why would such a door be in a dingy old wreck that is this house? The unsettling force that overtakes me just looking at the door dismisses it from contention as well.
The creature behind me grows impatient and the hissing escalates to a menacing wheeze, I apparently have no other choice but to go forwards. Making my choice I grasp the handle, rush through and slam the door before the creature can follow. As it shuts I move to lock the door but hear it do so…from the other side. That’s when I feel it. The dank cold or a basement long-since forgotten. As much as I don’t want to, I can’t help but turn to the room. I’m filled with hope when my eyes zoom to a light source in the form of a light pole shining through a broken window. I can escape! Then I realize the truth. In between myself and freedom are hundreds of spiders (in thick webs). Worse, there are mounds of rags and debris that are quivering. Fearing rats I approach a pile and nudge it with my foot. Out pops a raccoon that instantly starts growling. Instinctively I raise my hands and start to back away. This seems to send out a beacon to other piles, for more raccoons start to emerge, stalking their prey. Not looking I back into a web and although my reflexes move to jump away the webbing is too strong. Frantically looking back and forth for some solution razor sharp pincers fill my vision. A spider as large as my hand comes down in mid air to float in front of my face. Foreboding fills me as my fate is sealed more and more with each passing moment. Beady eyes creep closer from the ground and the vibration of the web alerts me to visitors coming down from above. I close my eyes and scream as the first of many sharp teeth seek a new home in my flesh.
I’d like to say this one was fun, although that doesn’t seem like an appropriate sentiment. I’ve always been afraid of spiders, but the raccoon thing is newer. It was introduced as an adult and that makes it worse (I guess). No kidding a few weeks ago I had a nightmare where I was driving and these two baby raccoons jumped on my car. The weird thing was every time they dug into the car with their little claws I felt in on my skin. I still get the willies thinking about that unsettling dream. Meeko, you gave me a false sense of raccoons.