SPIDER DREAMS: Chapter Two

“Do you think you will ever make love to me again?” Her quiet sweet voice woke me from dream.

Chapter 2: Yellow Leaf Carpet

 Content for mature audiences. NC17

“What?” I mumbled, stirring in bed. Morning dew collected on the western bay window. It dribbled in piercing parallel lines of dark and light contrast between the window shades. Her warm body lay next to me, smooth and alive. Fluffy white cotton pillows and I felt in heaven. Soft comfort and warm daylight glowed throughout the room.

“Are you ever going to make love to me again?” she asked.

“Hopefully not.” I replied pulling my thoughts together and rubbing my eyes.

The phone rang and she immediately jumped out of bed wearing a tattered white tank top and a pair of baby blue sweat pants with the word ‘Nike’ embroidered across her pleasantly plump bottom. Sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed I sat in momentary reflection of my dream before putting my pants on. I drove a green Armored Truck over the descent of waterfalls to the Government center. I felt sick like vomiting and my partner with the gun smoked too many cigarettes. We parked in the middle of the fountain.

I walked to the kitchen stretching my sore limbs. She began to boil water for coffee.

“Who was it?”

“Who was who?” she asked.

“On the phone.”

“Oh, nobody, just work wanting me to come in early today. Hey-are you gong to be making any breakfast this morning? I’m dying of hunger.” She said.

“Sure, what’s on the menu?”

“I don’t care. Anything but pancakes.” She replied.

“Eggs alright?” I asked.

“With some toast, sure, sounds good.”

“Over easy or scrambled?”

“Don’t matter.”

“Ok, you got it, coming right up honey bun,” I dropped a shirt over my head.

“Did you really mean what you said?” she asked.

“Mean what?” I said.

“About never sleeping with me again,” she persisted.

“I’m always serious,” I said waving the spatula in the air. “But, you should never take me literally.” I grinned like the Cheshire cat.

She perched herself on the counter top cute like a hummingbird smiling while the French press brewed behind her. A blue aroma filled the room. I thought about taking her right there, right now. How I’d like to tear off her shirt and press the warm flesh of my palms against her breast. I’d taste the nape of her neck and sink my teeth in to the tender flesh of her collar. It all happens instantly in my head, pulling off her pants and right there on the kitchen counter top with the windows open and the autumn breeze seeping in and letting the whole world see for any matter that I would care. She would scream, as she always does. We’d cum and finish making breakfast with a cup of coffee.

“You’re beginning to drive me insane,” she said, grabbing a fork and pointing it at me. I felt threatened and aroused. “How are those eggs coming?” She finally asked.

“Almost done.” I said knowing if I tried any sexual advance on her in the kitchen it wouldn’t be proper etiquette for her and we’d end up going back into the bedroom after the moment was lost. Like always.

“I had a weird dream last night.” She said after a few minutes of silence.

“Yeah? Like what?” I questioned while flipping the eggs over without breaking the yolks. Sunny side up is what I do best.

Still stretching the sleep from her body, she touched her left breast firm and cupped in her hand. “It was kind of sexual. I’m not really quite sure. There were a lot of people and it had an amazing sense of adventure. I was lying in a purple satin dress across a dark wood table and this tall businessman kept talking loudly from behind a podium on top of a stage. He suddenly stopped speaking and looked at me. He jumped down from the stage and approached me. He began to kiss me and I enjoyed it. The next thing I knew his hand was on my breast and his tongue licking my neck. It felt good and I liked the power he forced upon me.” She stopped the story and handed me a cup of coffee. “Then, this is the part I get blurry on, but I think that’s when he took all my clothes off, right there and in front of everyone. There were people everywhere around the table watching. And I liked them watching. I wanted them to see me. I wanted them to want me.”

“What did the man do?”

“He began to have sex with me.” I suddenly choked on a sip of coffee. “The whole time he kept this shiny grin on his face while thrusting inside me.”

“Then what happened?” I asked burning my finger on the stove.

“That’s it. That’s all I can remember,” she said hiding behind a tipped cup of coffee. “I must have woken up or something,” her voice echoed inside the rim.

“Sounds pretty intense.” I commented, agitated flipping an egg over. The golden yolk burst and erupted in the frying pan. This one would be no good anymore.

Hoping down from the counter she spun a little circle allowing me to see how delicious her behind looked in her nighttime attire. “Yeah,” I said, “I like having sex in my dreams too,” and gave her a pinch on the butt.

After we ate the eggs and toast I laid her down on the soft queen-size bed. The neighbors below us must be annoyed by the tinny wheels under the bed rolling across the golden orange hard wood floor. I watch as she waddles to the bathroom. I laid on the bed, numb for a few moments. My fingers and toes tingled. Then I got dressed and headed out the door to work.

Children were laughing and playing in the park. They were shouting at each other and kicking up the dead yellow leaves that blanketed the green grass. It seemed the girls were chasing the boys about the playground. A moist chill hung in the washed white air. I always did like that game best during recesses. Two squirrels rustled past me one chasing the other. They emerged from the crayon yellow carpet and stopped before crossing the black walking path.

“Hey,” I snarled at them, “What the fuck do you two have?” The rodents kind of stared at me holding their nuts in their mouth. “Damn little critters everywhere. No one can be safe these days,” I muttered to myself and I took a sudden step forward scaring them back under the yellow sea of leaves. Walking beneath the large canopy of trees and kicking up the dead leaves it sounded like rustling paper scurrying about the open park grass. Morning sunlight hid in the damp opaque shadows.

Arriving at the brick castle, a whistle blew sharp and piercing. The front doors were locked and I never did receive a key to open them. It has been my duty for weeks now to paint everything white and if it is already white, paint it white again. Ranging from doors to walls to rooms and railings I am the servant who spends his time painting everything antique white. Everything must be coated in white. Everything must be covered. White must glow within the castle and outside. The statues and buttresses must be white. The stairs must be clean, dusted and white. The path through the garden and around back must be white. The flowers must be white and the windowsills must be white. I have been very close to completion now and I must not stop the progression. White the world will be. White the Queen demands, and white the Queen pays me to paint.

I enter the basement through a narrow cellar door in the side hidden behind some hedges. Down an old crumbling concrete stairway and past a white sterile bathroom I could see a tunnel barely visible in the low glowing light. A single bulb hung in the dusty room swaying back and forth stretching shadows thin as it moved. Someone has been down here recently. I hesitantly approach. Old decomposing stone pillars hold up the ceiling. A sweet decaying aroma fills the air of the dark tunnel. Spider webs cling, weaving a white blanket of silk down the hallway. Faint scratching scurries behind cracks in the walls. Giant centipedes lurk behind these ancient stone partitions. They hunt and feast on these grounds.

“Is anybody there?” My frail voice echoed.

“Shh.. Quiet lad,” a voice whispers from far down the dark path. “You don’t want anyone to find us, do ya now lad?”

“Who’s there?” my voice stutters barely audible in the damp darkness of the cellar.

“Hurry now, hurry. This way.” The voice trails off from the other end of the corridor. I scamper quickly down the dry, white-powdered stone floor while crushing the brittle bones of dead rodents. A short, stout grey-bearded elf sits perched on a large smooth rock. His leather face carved deeply with age and time, drew dark jagged shadows across his features. Removing a long, thin pipe from his lips and licking them with a pucker he blew a smoke donut into the air. “Delicious, just delicious this new medicine is, “he remarked while tentatively studding the delicate pipe between gentle fingers. “I only wish I had more of it lad, ya know, but it’s a rarity you know during these times. Real hard to find in these parts and during this season.” The tiny spectacles on his round rubbery rosy nose glistened a sharp shard of light as he turned away from me. “I have something for you.” His voice crackled like static and he opened his gloveless blue palm. A little green worm wiggled plump and fat in his hand. “Eat it, eat it. My consultants and I think it’d be a wise choice. You’ll find a pot of gold full of wisdom just as we have all told.” He began to giggle, as did voices from the walls.

I pinched the squirming worm with my thumb and index finger. Staring long and hard at it, I finally placed it in my mouth. The hairs along its back tickled my tongue as it crawled around.

“Yes, eat the creature of the soil,” the little elf man said placing the pipe back to his lips. I began to chew, feeling the warm juicy entrails spill in my mouth. A bitter mush gritted in my jaw and I swallowed. “May I offer you a gentle puff from the pipe before we depart?” he asked and I gladly reached for it.

“Sure, I’d love to….” I said as my static voice suddenly tapered off in a robotic godlessness. The rocks grew eyes and peered me. “All these pretty girls and they talk.” I said.

“Yes, they talk.” He replied smiling and glowing. “Talk.”

Sound began to slow down and unwind as my thoughts slurred into one conscious motion of understanding. Colors and vibrant patterns formed inside my mind and before my eyes like pulsing veins along the walls. Fractal geometry like ice crystals grew out of the ceiling. Time is slow advancement. The worm has entered my blood. My fingers follow themselves to their intentions blurring my motion through this thought medium.

“And what do they talk about?” about, about, bout, bout, out, out, out… the corridor echoed back.

“And what do we talk about?” about, about, bout, bout, out, out, out…

“Nonsense,” yes I was certain now, the walls with bulging marble eyes can see me. “Nonsense… I agree. Just let me concur with my associates here.” And I began to talk with the eyes as they watched me attentively.

“It doesn’t make any matters better when it gets real thick like this. Real thick it is,” I muttered like a drone while exhaling.

“It’s like soup my brain can’t chew or swallow. All the pretty girls, they just want to be wanted.” My mouth numb and open my tongue moved itself.

“Don’t you too?”

“Me too, what?” I asked the eyes.

“Want to be needed?”

“Well. Sure…to be wanted would be…nice but, where…can I find…some more purple smoke?” All the eyeballs looked at the little blue elf. He began to shrink.
“
Sorry lad,” he said tipping his hat with a smirk and taking another puff, “I’d love to help you, you know. But you’ve already had enough,” and he disappeared with one final exhale into a small crack of dust. All the eyes beady and round rolled in their sockets and focused their attention on me. Blinking.

“What are you…all looking at?” I shouted, becoming impatient and annoyed with the cold shiver of claustrophobia settling in. The fear began to take hold. I only wanted a cloistered lifestyle. The eyes began to pop sharp and loud like soapy bath bubbles leaving behind a green residue dripping down the stone walls. I have got to get out of here! Where is my refuge? The centipedes began crawling out of the cracks wiggling and dying, drowning in the orgasmic pleasure of the green ooze.

Outside, the sun peeled back, opening the sky to a desert magnification of blinding heat. Instantly I began to melt into the ground. Trying to walk and hide from the heat I found a cool shade beneath a gorgeous draping cherry tree. Red bulbs hung like Christmas ornaments dangling in the humid breeze. My thoughts got caught up in a cloud and stayed there for a while. I could feel the caterpillar crawling in my stomach. My skin became the color of a chameleon’s and the objects around me shined as a plastic reflection. Dried yellow leaves buried my body in a shallow unmarked grave causing me to descend into a larva coiled and hidden amongst the blades of bending grass. I began to wonder when my wings would start to grow and how it would feel to fly.

“What are you doing here boy?” Said a solid, broad woman eclipsing over me. I must have been lying without a body for quite some time. Her bleach white hair hung about her peachy plump face and draped across her massive exposed cleavage. Golden blue eyes twinkled fiercely like a gypsy lover. Silver jewels danged and decorated her fingers and ears.

“I’m not sure,” I stuttered stumbling words to my still limp tongue with one eye squinting and the other one closed. I sat up rubbing the twilight into my eyes. “I think I’m waiting for someone.”

“Who?” she persisted getting directly into my business.

“I’m not sure yet,” I answered.

The sun goddess bent heavily over with her closed fists firm at her hips and casting a dark shadow over my mind. “I suggest you be on your way boy.” She said. “Just as a word of advice from me to you, I wouldn’t let the White Queen find you laying on your back like this. Nor would I suggest letting the Good Warden find you either. He’s the one who wears the white gloves and works for her majesty, the almighty. You might have seen him around the area. He lives in this castle, he’s the caretaker.”

“Yes, I know him. He’s my boss.” I grunted collapsing back down. “I have the day off today. The door to the paint cellar is locked and I can not paint anything today without the key.”

“Very well,” she growled turning around and waddling off in the other direction. Stopping a few feet away and turning to look back, “You still shouldn’t let the Queen find you laying out here, day off or not. You do understand what she would do? You do know what she would do to you?” said the obese sun goddess disappearing through an arched white doorway.

I rolled over trying to lift my weight off the ground, but collapsed. Suddenly a sprinkler sprung up next to me and started spinning around sprouting a thin mist into the air. I placed my cap back on and dried my sunglasses. A path of yellow leaves lay before me and I started to make my way back home. I followed a green-dressed princess through labyrinth trails until I came to a clearing. An amber glow hung over the horizon and the cool air held me in its clutches. Home lay only a few blocks before me and she would be waiting.

“Glad you’re back,” her voice like a sharp blade playing beautiful music pierced through my spine. She walked in from the kitchen elegantly holding a glass of red wine and swaying the contents around in a circle. “One of my girlfriends just called.” She began. “You know her. We met with her and her boyfriend last weekend and went out for drinks. You know who I’m talking about, right? Catharine?”

I nodded through my broken silence. “Yeah I remember.” I said. “Her boyfriend accidentally electrocuted me. Somehow, I can’t forget that.”

“Well, do I have a story to tell you,” She began with a sip, “while she was at work the other day he felt like doing a little snooping around the house. And do you know what he found?”

“What?” I asked stepping through the doorway and kicking off my dirty shoes. I must have walked through a swamp without knowing it.
“
He got all jealous and in raged. He found her dildo and called her up at work to yell at her.”

“A dildo?”

“Yeah, and the damn thing didn’t even have working batteries in it. Ha! So, that night he left the house as soon as she got home from work and drank himself into the gutter. He won’t talk to her or go home either and it’s been like two days. She’s been trying to bribe him with food to come home but he won’t.”

“Funny story,” I said closing the door behind me. “He feels threatened and intimidated by the dildo doing a better job than he can. His house is no longer his kingdom; It is now his prison.” I brushed by her and the swirling glass of wine heading to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror washing my hands and face.

“My lips were moving but nothing was coming out.” Did I just say that? “Oh God, I’m turning green and my hair is growing.”

“What hun, what did you say?” she asked.

My hair rolled in waves and my face suddenly aged and wrinkled. “Oh, nothing babe.” I shouted. “I’m just talking to myself.” She has no idea what happened to me today or what is going on inside my mind. I found a vial with a few remaining pills, put it in my pocket and headed for the door. “I must escape.” I whispered to myself.

“You must what? What was that hun?” She kept yelling at me from the kitchen.

“Nothing Dear.” I shouted. “I got a few things I got to take care of, love ya, be back soon,” and I darted to the attic, my sanctuary, my haven, my safe place to hide.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” I heard her shout as I sunk my mind into the attic of itself like a womb of the mother coated in dusty cobwebs collecting and draping the tears of aged dreams. I tripped upon a few old unattended stack of papers in the corner. I went to pick them up. The floor creaked under each stumbling thought I had. My hands began to shake and I picked up the first document blowing off the dust in a giant cloud. Diving comfortably into my situation, I began to read. It is funny how minds carry different bodies.

The Stack of Manuscripts:

ENTRY ONE:
Will someone please help? I have been contained up here for many days. I no longer know day from night. There is something growing in the corner and I am frightened.

ENTRY TWO:
I no longer know when I am dreaming. Every moment is hell. I am unable to hide in my sleep. They have found me there too. It is not safe anywhere. The object in the corner has doubling in size and it has started to divide. It is pulsing green as if breathing.

ENTRY THREE:
It was to my knowledge that during such passing between worlds there are often many levels of discomfort. I fear I have wandered into an area I cannot return from. I am frightened this is a journey I will not survive.

ENTRY FOUR:
The crossing into the other world is a deep emotional expansion of the cosmic threshold. The wide rivers have opened into a deep blue sea. All the scenery has changed from rocks to Roman architecture. Naked people bathe in the rivers and ride on elephants until a giant snake lady will eat them. She has come for me. I cannot hide in the riverbed.

ENTRY FIVE:
I feel as if I have fallen asleep and I am dreaming my life away. The object in the corner has divided into three large egg-shaped cocoons. Gradually I wake or fall into sleep. I know no difference. The only consistency I have in knowing I’m alive is the constant reminder of the growing objects in the room. Something is moving inside them.

ENTRY SIX:
I have lasted many days without food or water locked within this attic. I feel the time is near. My body will not last very long and will be the sacrificial meal for the hideous creatures that emerge from these cocoons. My only hope is to leave my body before they are born. I understand why I am here. I am to deliver their birth into this world.

ENTRY SEVEN:
One of the eggs has opened. I did not see what came out. I am too weak to move. The serpent is coiled around my neck and the great star has found me.

ENTRY EIGHT:
I hear a sound. I am rotting in tranquility searching an empty house to find broken windows. All my secrets have been stolen and I am being digested. I can feel the spider’s bite.

ENTRY NINE:
The great centipede is a female.

ENTRY TEN:
They are all the same. They creep and they crawl. A thousand tiny tasty legs. Their bite is releasing. The things I have been searching for have found me. They are here for me and I accept them. All the eggs have hatched.

Copyright © 2018, Charles Denton
All rights reserved - No part of this story can be used without written consent.