Three Windows

Screeching of points along frosted glass. Methane stench, razor teeth drenched in rotted meat. Clicker clack of wicked talons born of blood and pain to eviscerate the helpless and the weak. Red eyes of desperation and madness shot through with an unhallowed glow. A face born for murder and mayhem staring at me. The window protects, always it protects me but the monster strains at it. The monster wants in the homes of all men and will make an example of me when the glass shatters.

It was always the same dream. It ended the same with me jerking awake in a pool unwashed fear staining the sheets. It began the same until one week ago. Then the gypsy appeared. Since then the dream starts in her wagon.

She flips two tarot cards. The first, the hanged man wears my face and a beatific smile. The second, the beast appears as the thing outside my window. She speaks as I hear screeching against glass.

“You must choose.”

Choose what? I want to scream but then I turn and see the face in the window. That is when I realize I am in my own bed.

The dream began to haunt me during waking hours.

I was staring at the window to reality that matters most to people now. I would drift away, lost in the images of the television. The politician grew fangs, the officer sprouted claws, big model stank of fetid meat, master survivor’s eyes glowed red with hate. On the television and the computer each person grew into the monster and looked at me.

Normally I could snap myself out of the trance but at times it continued. The image proceeded to the monster ripping my heart free and feasting on it. The murder was in plain view. I was a martyr. My sacrifice and pain showed other people they must fight these forgotten evils. It woke a world grown numb and blasé to the horrors walking forgotten amongst the people. The voice echoed in my mind again.

You must choose.

I looked into the window showing my soul and my eyes lost focus. My face, its face, one in the same. Through the watery waves of displaced vision I saw myself rampage. Not a victim I devoured the hearts of those who would wrong me. The politician, the officer, the stars all fell before me. I was merciless. They looked on me and they were terrified.  The voice came again.

You must choose.

The dream is different now. I awake not to the screeching but the stench of eternal methane and rot. The window is open and he is laughing. I know not if it is a reflection in hidden glass or vengeance come for me. I stare up at it and it down at me. The head of the beast echoes my movements. I draw near the window. In the face looking back with curiosity to rival my own I see the answer.

And I choose…

#shortstory #politicalcommentary #socialcommentary