“No.” Had Henry’s own voice ever been so deep, thick with menace? He had no idea where this stranger with his voice had come from, but how could he deny it was him when he could feel every soft feature of the pelt beneath his fingers, could feel the warm excitement thrum in his veins?
- Brief Description: From a young age Henry Dodgson has suffered from severe night terrors where he is constantly getting killed. Years of therapy have helped him to cope with the dreams as mere fiction. Henry Dodgson was used to his unusual nightmares, but everything changed when he closed his eyes one night and went from the victim to killer. And now the creatures he keeps attacking seem awfully familiar…
- Includes: 2 short stories. (Henry Dodgson & Irreverencies)
- Genre: Science Fiction, Horror
- Word Count: 15,092
- Price: $.99; for the month of July, 2012 this is currently free!
- Download: The Smashwords page is here
Excerpt from Henry Dodgson:
“I’m dreaming again.”
His psychiatrist cocked an eyebrow. “And that is supposed to be different from usual?”
Sometimes Henry hated the patronizing way the doctor spoke to him. At thirty-five years of age, Henry knew he should have outgrown the need for a psychiatrist that had been treating him for so long, but the doctor had been able to help him in small ways along the years.
Henry forced himself to talk past the lump growing in his throat. “I’m not being killed anymore.”
“No?” Now the tone was more interested.
Henry scratched his arms. Doctors had a way of looking at him that made him feel transparent and worthless. “They’ve been changing. It’s a complete role reversal.”
“So you are the killer now?”
If you could call it that. “Of sorts.”
Henry took a breath. “Is it murder if you only kill animals?”
“Well, the ASPCA may have something to say for it, and some may flag it as the start of serial killer tendencies, but I doubt it’ll land you in jail if you’re only dreaming about it.”
That was a slim relief, “But it’s not normal is it?”
“Henry, ‘normal’ has never applied to your dreams.”
It hurt to have it described so bluntly. Henry liked to think of himself as normal, despite his minor defects. “Are you going to help me, or am I going to have to find a new psychiatrist?”
The doctor’s lips quirked. “If you want to go through an exhausting search like you did twenty years ago, be my guest. We both know I’m the best suited to treat you.”
“Then treat me.”
“If you’re only dreaming about killing animals, all I can do is say stop watching the nature programs on Virtua-V.”
Of course. It wasn’t as though the doctor could legally bore his way into his head, or extract the dreams from him. Henry wouldn’t let him even if he could.
His doctor offered a sympathetic smile, “Why don’t we talk about that girl you mentioned before, the one from the bar? Tell me how is that going.”
Henry didn’t think there was much to talk about. He’d gone back to the bar several times in the last two weeks trying to find her. Nobody seemed to know who he was talking about, and no one had heard of a blonde girl with her description.
If they pressed for more details to better assist, Henry couldn’t be of any help at all.
After all, he didn’t even know her name.