Insomnium

Author: Jef-Aram Van Gorp

Version: Draft 1 (2023-05-15)

Insomnium (Latin noun)
Translation: bad dream, wakefulness, vision

I am walking through a long hallway. It looks like a hospital, but not quite. Clinically clean, vale green linoleum, defibrillators on the walls. People are walking beside me. I don't know any of them.

How did I get here?

Before I can ask, we walk through an automated double door. It opens up into a glass-paneled room shaped like a dome. The view of the ocean lying only feet away is breathtaking.

I look to my left and see a boardwalk of about twenty feet wide, running along the shore. It's flush with the water and seems paper thin. I can see the white foam of the waves spill over the boardwalk, leaving behind a bubbly emulsion covering the wooden planks.

That's gotta be slippery.

The boardwalk leads to a concrete version of the room I am in. It's got an Omaha beach bunker feeling to it. Solid, dull, and gray. Despite its boring exterior, it exudes a sense of safety and reliability, and I am drawn to it.

I hear a commotion behind me, but I am too distracted by the unpierceable fog bank behind the bunker. The boardwalk leads straight through it, disappearing deep into the mist. I idly wonder where that road would take me.

The commotion turns to shouting, and I see the others gesture frantically towards the horizon. My heart stops. Across the ocean, a red, flame engulfed cloudfront races towards our shore. The rain that had been pelting on our glass dome intensifies.

When did it start raining?

Lightning flashes, immediately followed by thunder that shakes the ground. The cloudfront breaks open and hail balls the size of ice cream trucks start shooting down.

The shouting turns to screaming and a panic breaks out. People rush back to the double doors. I move to follow them but notice the doors aren't opening. The people crash into them - shouting, kicking, cursing, pleading. Behind the door's porthole, a gray bearded man with spectacles stares back at us with ice cold eyes. The people keep trying, but I know it's no use. The man's not going to let us in.

I need to get out of here.

Pushing my way through the panicked bystanders, I make for the emergency exit.

"Don't go out there," someone yells. "You'll never make it."

Somehow, I know that voice is wrong and burst through the door. Flailing wildly, I manage to keep myself upright and start sprinting. I want to get away as far and fast as I can.

Don't look up. Don't. Look. Up!

I do it anyway and see the hail from hell descend. For a brief instant, I gaze with morbid fascination at the beauty of this doomsday tableau. The moment passes when the first hail ball smashes into the ground. I feel the shock of its impact and look up just in time to see a second one crush the glass dome. The muffled screams stop abruptly but I have no time to consider what happened. The terror has me now and I run for the boardwalk.

Shards of ice and snow dust shoot past me. It's a miracle I am not hit. I panic as my feet start slipping on the slippery boardwalk. With mighty effort I manage to steer clear of two hail balls, their icy debris freezing my skin.

I look up, ready to accept my fate, and suddenly remember a line from the movie Volcano: "You don't do anything, until you know where it's gonna land.". My eyes are open now, and the rest of the run becomes a breeze.

I sidestep three more hail balls, one of which covers me in another shower of frozen shards. Still, I make it to the bunker unscathed and dive, head first, through its narrow viewing hole.

I am safe now and take deep, calming breaths. The running has tired me out, but the fear is gone. The storm has lost its potency and I don't have to wait long for it to pass. Once the sun returns, imbuing the pockmarked landscape with an iridescent sharpness, I decide to move on.

-

I am drawn to the mist behind the bunker and walk straight into it. Briefly it blinds me but it doesn't take long for the mist to dissipate and reveal a wide street with highrises on either side. The lanky, tall buildings are made of silver glass and catch the setting sunlight in a marvelous array of colors.

The streets are empty, save for a few passersby here and there. I decide to march on towards one of the highrises. It has a large entrance with inviting bright yellow lights decorating the lobby.

A woman suddenly walks beside me. She's saying something but I am too busy wondering where I know her from.

What’s her name again?

She asks me a question. "What?" I mumble distractedly.

My gaze is drawn to two weird fellows walking in the opposite direction. Their complexion is pale and their eyes hollow. Both of them have a funny gait. One drags his ankle across the pavement. The other walks cross-legged.

I turn to the woman who's still talking and hold up my hand to cut her off mid-sentence. In the breath it takes for her to start a new sentence I interject.

"Did those two guys seem odd to you?"

"I guess." She shrugs and continues her monologue.

I am not really listening and see an old man approaching us. He tips his hat and smiles. I smile back in response, but it quickly turns into a frown when I hear an unearthly sound. The hairs on my neck rise and a shiver rolls down my spine. Everything moves in slow motion as I turn around. I hear another screeching howl and the old man's eyes go wide.

When I finally manage to glance over my shoulder, I am just in time to see the two weirdos from before charging at us. Their mouths are lined with fresh blood and a thick black mucus.

The woman beside me tugs violently on my arm, pulling me out of their path.

"Quick," she screams. "Run for the hotel!"

She breaks into a sprint and leaves me standing there. I risk one look back and witness the two ghouls dragging down the old man as they gnaw on his blood-spraying throat. A chorus of shrieks further down the street is all the encouragement I need to launch into a fear-fueled, mad dash after the woman.

My heart beats in my throat. My lungs are on fire. Adrenaline burns in my veins. I have only one thought: get to that lobby! 

When I finally make it inside, I see the woman is already getting in the elevator on the far side of the lobby. Its golden doors contrast sharply with the soft white marble walls.

Why the hell did that just pop in my head?

I chase after her into the elevator and turn around. The glass revolving entrance door is filled to the brim with zombies that are frantically trying to get in. I keep ramming the close-doors button of the lift with equal vigor. After what seems an eternity, the lift doors close and I let out a deep sigh.

Not much later, a loud ding announces our arrival on the top floor. I follow the woman into a classy, modern penthouse suite. She casually kicks off her shoes, throws her jacket onto the couch, and disappears into another room.

I cross the living room and follow a short hallway until it ends in a kitchen. It's a large open room with west facing, floor-to-ceiling windows. The golden light of the setting sun paints a warm atmosphere in the sterile interior. I open the slide door that's built into one of the windows and walk out onto a patio. It has an amazing view and in the distance, I can see the crushed glass dome and the foam covered boardwalk from before.

"Pack a suitcase, dear," the woman says as she pops her head into the kitchen. "After that, heat up the roast, will you?"

"Roast?" I ask. "What about those zombies downstairs?"

"Oh," she says casually. "They won't be here for some time."

I arch my eyebrow, but she's oblivious to my silent criticism and is gone again before I can object. I shrug and follow her down the hallway. Without thinking, I cross it and take the first door on my left.

How do I know this place so well?

I enter a large bedroom with a king size bed, a wardrobe covering the entire wall, and a large fireplace made of rough cut stones and metal plating. Its rough look contrasts heavily with the tight modern interior of the room. Yet, somehow, it fits. I hold out my hands in front of the fire but don't feel any heat. Suddenly the flames shiver like a TV with a glitch. It's so brief that I can't be sure it really happened.

On the bed lies an already packed suitcase.

Did I do that?

Unsure of what to do, I toss in a random shirt for good measure.

"Don't forget the roast, honey!" The woman's bell-like voice echoes through the apartment.

I roll my eyes, but return to the kitchen and find the roast waiting for me on the counter top. I move to grab it and pause when I notice that the moon has risen high. Its silver light now fills the kitchen with an eerie atmosphere.

How long was I gone?

I shrug, thinking I am being silly, and I put the roast in the oven. I walk over to the fridge and pop my head in to start browsing.

What am I looking for again?

"Honey?" I yell.

No sound.

"Honey!" I try again. Still no answer.

Damn it, now she's quiet!

I keep looking in the fridge, racking my brain on what it was that I was supposed to find.

Then I hear labored breathing. I cock my head. No, it's more like panting. The hairs on my neck rise when I see a garbled foot slide underneath the fridge door and realize why the loft is suddenly so quiet.

Without further thought, I slam the fridge door into the zombie lurking behind it. The ghoul goes down with a shriek. I immediately jump over the scrambling creature and bolt towards the hallway. When I round the corner, I can see several zombies feasting on the bloody mess that used to be the woman. One of them sees me and I dart into the bedroom, locking the door shut. Moments later shrieking and banging on the door ensues as a fatal realization hits me.

I am trapped!

Frantically I rush towards the windows but they’re two inches thick.

No way I am getting through those.

I turn around and the fireplace catches my eye. The flames twitch again, and I frown.

What is up with that thing?

The wooden door starts to break down and slimy fingers slip through the cracks. My breathing accelerates into panicked panting, but my eyes remain fixed on the fireplace.

Fuck it!

I run towards the flames. The zombies break through the door behind me as I scream and slide feet first into the flames. My scream sends the zombies into a frenzy, but they shy away from the flames that now engulf my feet. I close my eyes in anticipation of my fiery demise, which takes surprisingly long. Too long…

Why doesn't it hurt yet? 

I open my eyes and gaze in wonderment at the dark nook I find myself in. I look back and see the zombies anxiously trying to get closer to the flames. Only, from my side they don't look like flames but more like a red-tinged hologram. The zombies howl in anger, and I decide not to wait around until they figure out the flames are fake.

I crawl further into the dark nook and find it turns into a tunnel of about two feet high. After a long stretch of pitch black darkness - and blessed silence -  my hands suddenly detect a hole in the ground. I feel around the edges and find a ladder that goes down. Carefully, I start my descent.

-

My hands ache by the time the musky vertical tunnel makes way for fresh air and daylight. I look around and find myself hanging from a fire escape on the side of a four story, brick and mortar building. Fog above me prevents me from seeing the top of the ladder.

Wasn't I just in a highrise?

I decide it's not worth worrying about and make my way down the final twenty feet of the fire escape.

My spurs make a ringing sound when I land on the ground.

Where did I get spurs?

I breathe in deeply and pine mixed with the smell of snow fills my nostrils. I walk to the front of the building and realize I have just arrived in a small, sleepy, mountain town. The street I am on has a few shops but there doesn't seem much else going in the town, save for a crowd of people near a large gymnasium at the end of the road.

"Fancy a fresh set of funnel-shaped flowers?" A voice says.

Startled, I turn and see a homely old woman with gray hair, a worn red bandana, and a blue apron. She offers me a pack of petunias and smiles endearingly.

"Lovely man like you shouldn't walk about town without getting something for his lady," she says.

I see there's no point in refusing so I mutter my thanks and take the flowers. She winks and returns to her work while humming an Ennio Morricone song.

Where have I heard that one before?

I continue down the road and walk past a grocery store when suddenly a fifties' style pick-up truck stops right next to me. Its front tires bump into the sidewalk and I have to step aside to avoid being hit. Two young men, one big and one short, step out of the car and smile broadly.

"There you are," Big Guy says. He's a foot taller than me with bulky arms sticking out of a sleeveless, plaid shirt tucked under blue overalls. I feel my jaw shake when he jovially slaps me on the shoulder.

"We were wondering if you'd show up," he says.

He beckons me to the trunk and lifts a piece of canvas.

"Check this out." Underneath the canvas are a pair of tommy guns and a gleaming colt peacemaker. Despite the enticing silver shine of the pistol, I give him an uncertain look.

What is up with these guys?

"Oh, come on. You knew what we were planning," Short Guy says. He's wearing the same outfit as Big Guy. Combined with his short and square body shape, it would’ve made for a hilarious ensemble, if not for the glint in his eyes that belies an inner darkness.

Big Guy nods to the flowers. "Put those in the car. There'll be plenty of time for that later."

I do as he says, and turn around just in time to have the colt shoved in my hands.

"Alright, let's do this. Are you ready?" Big guy asks.

"Yeehaw!" Short Guy yells in reply before rushing into the grocery store. The rattling sound of a tommy gun ensues and I exchange a look with Big Guy.

"He was always the weird one," he shrugs, before following him inside. I am not sure why, but I run after him into the store swinging my gun around.

Why am I robbing a store now?

Big Guy points to the cash register which looks like a 17th century pirate treasure box. It's not so much the treasure box, but rather the fact that it's just at the end of an aisle for all to grab that strikes me as plain stupid.

This store deserves to be robbed.

I walk over to the treasure chest and notice a sticker on the top. It says in big bold letters: DADDY.

Daddy, really?

I shrug, open the box, and unload its contents as my partners hold up everyone at the gunpoint. There's three thick bundles of cold hard cash in there.

"How much is it?" Big Guy asks as he comes over for a peek.

"Close to fifteen grand," I say quietly, somewhat in awe of the large amount of cash I am holding.

I walk to the exit, turn my back to Short Guy, and decide to tuck one of the cash bundles into my vest. Big Guy is looking at me with narrow eyes. I smile sheepishly and quickly put another one in my pocket while pointing back and forth between me and him.

"You know how he is," I say quietly, nodding my head at Short Guy. Big Guy continues to stare at me for a moment then nods. We both run out of the store and moments later Short Guy joins us into the alley behind the building.

"What'd we get?" Short Guy asks. I show him the third and last bundle of cash. He grabs it greedily and starts cheering. We joyfully follow him to the truck, which is still parked out front in the street. When Big Guy gets into the truck and Short Guy walks over to the driver's side, I hesitate.

Something's off here. It shouldn’t be this easy.

Suddenly, a 1935 Ford skids around the corner. Its screeching tires leave black marks on the asphalt as it stops abruptly beside our truck. Two gruff looking gangsters with tommy guns pop through rolled-down windows and time freezes when I see a look of realization dawn on Big Guy's face.

"Shit, they found us," he manages to say before a rain of bullets comes flying our way.

I instinctively dive to the side, catching a break as I roll unintentionally behind a concrete planter that shields me from the bullets. I crawl up into a ball and close my eyes. The bullets keep gnawing, scratching, and biting at the scenery around me. Pieces of concrete, glass shards, and wooden splinters fly through the air. I do my best to shield myself, but feel several fierce stings on my elbows and legs.

Silence surrounds me as suddenly as the streak of violence started. I pat my body, as if to reassure myself I am still alive, until I hear a car door open. I hold my breath again and hear boots on glass coming towards me.

Frantically, I look around for an exit but can only see the perforated bodies of Big Guy and Short Guy lying dead in the car.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!

I risk a glance at the mobsters coming my way. There's three of them now, the two thugs and a meaner looking, chubby guy with impenetrable sunglasses.

What is it with bad guys and glasses?

I suddenly remember the crowd at the gymnasium and decide it's my best shot. Without thinking, I get up and start sprinting.

"There he is, get him!" The chubby guy yells. I duck, dip, and dodge another shower of bullets while I run up main street towards the gymnasium. The bullets stop coming when I round the corner and push my way through the throng of people that are being herded into the building.

I anxiously follow the stream of people, all the while glancing back so much that I am unaware someone's addressing me.

"I am sorry," I mutter.

"Are you here to see our new mayor?"

I look over my shoulder and see the mobsters work their way through the crowd as well. A stab of fear flushes through my body and I face the woman again.

"Yeah," I say. "I have an appointment."

"Splendid! Go on in. She'll be up on the balcony."

I nod my thanks and quickly go in through the double doors.

Double doors again?

I weave my way through the people as fast as I can, but the murderous mobsters keep gaining on me. I decide to step out of the crowd, which seems to be headed for a cantina, and run for the big hall of the gymnasium. I can't help but stare in awe at the grand scale of the implausibly large building.

It didn't seem that big from the outside, did it?

The large open space with its rainbow-colored patterns of lines painted on the floor is now covered in desks spread out uniformly. On my left there's bleachers, leaning against  a two story block that I assume houses the changing rooms on top of which is  a balcony of sorts that is outlined by a white-painted metallic railing. I can see people leaning on it, one of whom is looking straight at me.

I can't tell what it is, but despite the plainness of the gymnasium, it has a vivid quality to it. Perhaps it is the frenetic buzz of all the people at their desks in the large, open hall, all typing away at their ancient, turn-of-the-century typewriters. More likely though, it's that beautiful blond that's leaning over the balcony railing with a sweet, heart-stealing smile directed right at me.

"Dad!" A loud voice sounds through the speaker. It seems targeted at me, but I haven't the time to consider it as I am brutishly handled by two rough pairs of hands.

Right, I forgot about the mobsters.

The two thugs each grab me under an armpit and lift me clear off the ground as they carry me to the far side of the bleachers. We round the corner, get out of sight, and then they throw me against the wall. I scrape my face on the rough, gray bricks and turn around with my hands up defensively.

"This is the end for you," the sun shaded chubby fatso says.

Wild eyed, I glance around and see a slim chance for escape.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I plead, as I point to the bathroom door right next to me. "I really need to go, man. Lemme at least empty my bladder. Then I'll go willingly."

Fatso narrows his eyes, glances at the door, and nods. "One minute."

I rush into the bathroom stall and close the door behind me. The stall is tiny with barely enough space for a toilet and the sink to wash your hands in. Opposite the toilet is a slanted wall that makes the space even smaller, but it has what I am looking for: a way out.

Rather than drywall, the slanted wall is built like the oversized rib cage of a whale or dinosaur. The kind you see hanging from ceilings in a museum. The ivory white ribs are attached to a spiraling backbone that goes up. Although its form factor is weirding me out, it's the only thing I can try.

Before I get the chance, one of the thugs opens up the door and I rush to take off my pants, lift the lid, and start peeing. By the time he pops in his head, I am pouring a waterfall and shooting him an angry look.

"Do you mind?" I say. "I will be out in a minute."

He closes the door again and I finish off quickly, not even bothering to put my pants on properly. I make for the bony staircase and start climbing it. The steps - if you can call them that - are so close together that it becomes an exercise in spelunking to work my way up. Their edges are also razor sharp and I lose most of my clothes in the process, leaving me with only my boxers when I finally reach the top.

I recognize where I am by the white railing that outlines the open room. The same people I saw leaning over the railing are looking at me now. In the middle of the room is a king-size bed and, self-conscious about my nakedness, I quickly run for it and jump beneath the sheets. Two of the people by the railing come over, the others walk to a set of desks on the other side of the balcony. They look like judges as they sit down facing the bed.  

The two people coming towards me include the beautiful blond, and a tall, thin woman with pursed lips and dark curly hair.

“This is a waste of time,” the tall woman says.

“We’ve got time,” the blond says and bats her eyelashes at me. Ignoring the taller woman's disapproving frown, I lean over towards the blond and look at her top to bottom. She's wearing tight jeans and a black-and-purple, short-sleeved t-shirt with laced edges. The deep, but modest cleavage only lights my fire more and a wicked smile appears on her face when she notices my excitement. My face is now so close to hers that I can feel her minty fresh breath on my face.

"Why don't you and I have some fun?" I whisper with what I hope is a most alluring and irresistible voice.

"I don't know," she says coyly. "Do you have something for me?"

Shit, I forgot the flowers in the car!

"Damn," I say. "I brought petunias, but I was in such a rush to see you, that I just plain forgot them."

She smiles, so I gently caress her chin and lean in for a kiss.

Before I do, I turn to watch the judges who are frowning and shaking their heads. Then suddenly, a door next to the judges table opens up and the blaring sunlight spills in. The romance evaporates and I am suddenly terribly aware of my nakedness. Quickly, I grab a blanket to cover myself.

The blood drains from my face when I see fatso come in with his thugs in line. He aims his pistol at my head and cocks the hammer.

Then he yells at the top of his lungs: "Dad!!"

What. The. Fuck!

The sound of fatso's voice turns metallic, then electronic, and then into static. I wake up in my bed and see the bright red light of the baby monitor blinking.

"Daddy!" My son yells from the other room.

I sigh, get up, and stretch myself. As I walk out of my bedroom, my dream is already fading into a half-forgotten memory.

So close to the good part this time...