Chapter 1: The Never-Ending Nightmare

The sun shone brightly overhead, a gentle breeze caressed his face, carrying with it the myriad of nature's scents. He wriggled his toes, loving the cool, pleasant feel of the grass beneath his feet. He took one long look around the grassy field. He was surrounded by miles of green. With the exception of the soft sound of grass rustling in the wind, the field was silent. He took a deep breath. The air was crisp and cool made him feel serene. He couldn't remember the last time he felt at ease like this. It felt like one of those perfect spring days described in books or movies; a day when the weather was perfect and no one but him was around to enjoy it. He spread his arms, closed his eyes, and turned his face to the sky to enjoy the warm sun washing over him.

“You look so cute when you're daydreaming, David."

David faced the voice calling out to him, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of the woman sitting beneath a large tree, its low hanging branches blocking the view of everything around her. She sat on her knees on top of a blanket laid at the base of the wide trunk.  

He couldn't help but chuckle at the scene. It felt like something straight out of a bad romance movie. “Add in a picnic and some sappy love music playing in the background, and the scene would be complete," he mumbled under his breath.

In just a few short steps he found himself in front of the woman despite the large gap that was between them. It was as if she wore nature as an accessory. The breeze caught her hair at just the right angle instead of blowing it in her mouth and eyes. The roots of the tree snaked around the blanket she sat on rather than beneath it. Small beams of sunlight shone through the tree's canopy, illuminating her green sundress and slightly tan skin just the right amount.

 The woman looked up at him, the bangs of her long black hair covering most of her face. He reached to brush the woman's hair out of his way to look upon her face.

“Do you remember what you said to me the last time we were here?" the woman asked sweetly.

David brushed the woman's hair back. “Of course I do. It was…" he froze and his smile fell. The woman's face was gone. There were no eye holes, no marks where her nose and lips should be. There was only a smooth layer of tan skin covering the front of her skull.

David fell back in horror. Where was her face? He scanned the ground around them half-hoping to find her face laying in the grass. He saw nothing. His heart started to race. His hands and face began to feel moist. “What happened to­—? Wait, what was her name?" he wondered. He focused as hard as he could but nothing came to mind.

His fear worsened. He couldn't remember her name, her face, or even where they were. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he couldn't even remember why they were or how they got there.

The woman tilted her head to the side in confusion. “You don't remember?" she asked worriedly.

“N-No, I remember.  The last thing I said was…" It was no good. He couldn't remember, and he didn't want to admit it and upset her. His heart beat faster. What was happening? He remembered he loved the woman, and he remembered that this was their favorite place to relax even if he had no idea why. Something was wrong. He's in a strange place with a woman who had no face, a woman he knew and had strong feelings for, yet he couldn't remember her damn name!

David dropped to his knees in front of the woman. A chill shot up his spine as a crunching sound reached his ears. He looked down for the source. His heart stopped at the sight before him. The once lush grass surrounding them was now shriveled and grey.

Almost as if waiting for someone to notice, the decay spread across the field like a wave.  He watched, panic stricken, as everything around them was quickly drained of its color, leaving the entire field grey and barren. The sky darkened, turning the same dark grey as the field. The wind picked up, blowing the leaves off the tree's branches. They whipped about in the gusts, whistling like little knives The trunk turned black as its branches twisted in the howling wind.

At this point, David's fear had reached full capacity. He grabbed the woman's arm and pulled her to her feet. Something was obviously wrong. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew they needed to leave. “Come on, we have to get out of here."

The woman didn't move.

David faced the woman, and his mouth dropped open. Sores had appeared on her face as her once flawless skin slowly turned to a sickening pale grey before his eyes. Her long hair became dry and stiff, dangling from her head like nails; the wind swirling around them caused the strands to make a terrible grating sound that hurt his ears. The bright green sundress was now torn and filthy, better resembling a moth-eaten curtain than an article of clothing. The rest of her body began slowly turning grey as well as the tree's branches reached into the ground forming a cage around them.

 “No, no, no, no"— he tried to release the woman, but his hand refused to open—“why is this happening?"

David tried to pry his hand from the woman's arm, but it was no use. The woman's skin continued to decay, spreading through her shoulders and down her arms. She slowly raised her hand; it slowly decayed like the rest her body, her thin bony fingers reaching for his face.

David stood there, paralyzed with fear. The howling of the wind was all he could hear. The sky darkened further with every second. The decay spread to the tip of the woman's fingers now inches from his face…

****

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

David jolted awake in his bed, his bed sheet clinging to his sweat soaked fur. With a loud, tired groan, he slapped the alarm clock. It gave one last warped beep as it fell from the nightstand onto the floor.  

Ignoring the possibly broken alarm clock, David sat on the edge of his bed and placed his face in his hands. He slowly rocked back and forth, his body still trembling from the nightmare.

Every night was the same: go to bed, toss and turn all night, wake up shaking in a cold sweat.  He couldn't remember when the nightmares started, probably several months ago. But they were becoming more frequent. It started as only one, maybe two nights a week. Now it was happening almost every night. 

David took several slow, deep breaths to calm down. The shaking lessened, but it didn't stop completely.

He pushed himself off the bed, forcing the reluctant bed covers from his body as he dragged himself out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

The bathroom was tiny—which was saying something in the cramped apartment. Other than the toilet, the sink and the bathtub, the room was empty, but it did nothing to make the room feel any more spacious. The room was so narrow he could easily lean over the sink and brush his teeth while taking a shower. Thankfully, he wasn't claustrophobic.

Leaning over the sink, David looked at the mirror and frowned into the brown eyes of the tired husky staring back at him.

David hated his appearance. He always did. It told everyone he was a mixed breed, a fact he hated being reminded of. He mostly took after his mother who was also small for a husky although if the stories he heard about his grandparents were right, she was a half-breed as well. He was fortunate enough to have grown to a height a little above average, but he still wound up thin like she was. He also, unfortunately, inherited her ears which were noticeably shorter than normal. The remainder of his features he inherited from his father, who was some breed of dog whose name he couldn't remember. What he could remember was thanks to him David's snout was a little wider than it should be, and his tail was bushy enough to be considered a foxes.

He ran his fingers through his sweaty fur, grimacing at the slick feeling between his fingers. His fur stuck out all over the place, but it wasn't caused by the sweat. His fur was always untidy; another trait he inherited from his father.  His hair was even worse. It was a darker grey than his fur, but somehow, even messier. He gently pulled at a few strands. It was a shame he had to keep it short since growing it out made him look as if he was mugged by a comb.

He ignored his fur and returned to inspecting his face in the mirror. Nowadays, the lack of sleep due to the nightmares left his eyes bloodshot and his fur untidier than ever. Instead of looking like a shabby twenty-six-year-old husky, he looked like a twenty-six-year-old drunk on the morning of a hangover. And the stress of everything had made him thinner than he already was.

David snorted at his reflection and hopped into the shower. He stood under the water, savoring the feel of the hot water through his fur. His thoughts eventually drifted back to the woman from his dream. Even under the hot water, a shiver ran through him as he remembered the woman's missing face and the way her skin rotted before him.

What bothered him the most was he remembered having feelings for her in the dream although he had no memory of her. She felt familiar, yet he had no idea who she was. He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. It was just a dream, no need to dwell on it. Besides, he had enough problems without adding more to the list. He finished washing up quickly, letting the water take his thoughts down the drain with it.

David re-entered the bedroom and  dressed as quickly as possible while trying to avoid looking at his bed. He feared looking at it will bring back the nightmares. Of course given the size of the room it was difficult to avoid seeing anything.

A single window was the only thing decorating the walls with a queen sized bed and a single dresser filled in the rest of the space with a single nightstand in the corner as if it were squeezed into the space as an afterthought.  Every object in the room was covered with the story of its history, which meant scratches, peeling paint, and dents. The only object that stood out was the computer sitting atop an old desk on the far side of the room.

While everything else in the room showed years worth of wear and tear, one look was enough to tell the computer was well taken care of. David approached the desktop, gently sliding his hand over the keyboard. He couldn't begin to estimate how much money he spent upgrading the old desktop, probably enough to have moved into a much better place years ago. His friends often complained he spent more time online than outside, but that suited him just fine. He felt more comfortable around computers anyway. At least the computer didn't turn on him and spread rumors behind his back. Sometimes he wished he hadn't given up coding, but it was a life he couldn't go back to even if he wanted to.

His hand moved toward the tower's power button, but he quickly reminded himself of the other things that needed to be done besides surfing the web all day. He grudgingly turned away from the computer and headed for the living room.

David entered the living room feeling no better than he did when he first woke up. The “living room" was nothing more than a small room hardly larger than the bedroom that had a single dividing wall slightly cutting it off from the kitchen, leaving little to the imagination. Even the dust bunnies had to compete for their own space.

The room itself was the very definition of basic: a sofa, an armchair, a coffee table and a TV were all squeezed into the space. There was enough space to maneuver between the furniture (with some slight squeezing) but that was it.

He tapped the answering machine sitting in small window separating the kitchen and living room before turning toward the sofa.  

You have two new messages.

David's groans were drowned out by the loud springs of the ratty sofa bed as he sat down. At least there were only two messages; normally there were at least five, and not one of them was worth listening to.

Message one: “Mr. Somerson this is your attorney, Michael, speaking. I wanted to inform you that the trial has been moved up to June 27th at 12:30. I need you to call me back and set up an appointment so we can discuss what you can expect at the trial. Also, I wish to remind you that to stay away from the media. We practically won the case already, so you need to avoid any kind of bad publicity that could potentially be used against you."

He rolled his eyes at the machine and considered turning it off without even hearing the remaining message. Of course they would choose to move it to that wouldn't they? he thought bitterly. It's not enough to harass him in court; they had to do it on that specific day.

A soft tearing sound reached David's ears alerting him that he had gripped the sofa cushion so hard his claws had begun to tear the fabric. He loosened his grip on the sofa. He couldn't afford a new one and the old one was barely holding together.

Message two: “Hey, David? It's me, Stephanie. Are you there? I just wanted to tell you that I overheard Caldwell saying he was going to fire you today. He heard about the fight you had with Brent."  

David rolled his eyes at the machine. He already knew it was a matter of time before word about the fight got around. He was just surprised it took so long for Mr. Caldwell to fire him; it was no secret Caldwell had been looking for a reason to let him go for several weeks now. Looked like the old fox finally found one.

“I'm real sorry, but I figured it would be better if you knew now, instead showing up and being embarrassed in front of everyone."

David sighed heavily, a small smile creeping across his muzzle. At least Stephanie looked out for him, unlike everyone else at the job who either gave him strange looks or whispered things behind his back. She was one of the few friends he had left.

“Also, I think it's better if we don't hang out anymore."

His smile dropped.

“I'm sorry, David, it's just that…I can't do it anymore. The things people are saying, some of it's even got me wondering, and I can't keep defending you with these doubts—"

David jumped out of his seat and shut off the machine. He stood there, unmoving, feeling his rage build as the veil of silence grew thicker. He finally snatched the answering machine from the counter and threw it at the wall, breaking it into pieces.

He swore loudly as he realized what he had just done. He had just lost his job so his response to break things, knowing money was going to be tight until he could find another job. “Yep, very smart move," he grumbled.

One that felt very necessary. His life had been falling apart for months now. Every day was just more bad news or reminders of how shitty things already were. It was enough to drive anyone to the brink, and he was getting sick of it.

A loud knock on the door snapped David out his thoughts.

“Who is it?"

“It's the police," replied a voice that David knew all too well. “Open up!"

David growled at the door. His day was already off to bad start; he wasn't in the mood for games. He opened the door only to be greeted by an empty hallway. Before he could slam the door, a tall, human man suddenly appeared in the doorway.

The muscular man spread his legs apart, clasped his hands together as if holding a gun and pointed his fingers at David. “Put yer hands in the air, ya furry scoundrel," the man cried in a very poor country accent. He then shook his head unsuccessfully trying to remove his long, brown hair from his eyes.

David didn't laugh at his friend Rob's ridiculous appearance. “You know that would better if your hair wasn't in your face," David replied calmly, “That, and if you were holding a real gun".

“Aw, come on, man," Rob said in his normal voice. He stood to his full height, easily towering over David. The man brushed his hair out of his face revealing a pair of bright green eyes. He looked down at his friend from the end of his crooked nose. “Admit it. I had you goin' for a minute."

“Whatever you say, Rob," David replied, his voice toneless, before walking toward the kitchen.

“Hey, man, you all right?"

David opened the refrigerator. He wasn't really looking for anything to eat; he just wanted an excuse to avoid looking at his friend. He didn't want Rob to see how irritable he really was. “No. I just found out they moved the court date to June 27th."

“Oh…How you holdin' up?"

David slammed the refrigerator door. “Oh I'm fine," he snapped. “I'm being dragged to court, accused of a crime I didn't commit—on the day that my girlfriend was killed as if blaming me for it isn't enough.  To add insult to injury, I just found out I'm fired, again—and Stephanie doesn't want anything to do with me. On top of that, my friend comes in at the worst possible moment and asks me how I'm doing, knowing my entire life is falling apart. Well Robert, I am just fan-fucking-tastic. "

Rob held his hands up defensively. “I'll take that as 'no.' "

David sighed as he sank into one of the kitchen chairs. “I didn't mean to take my anger out on you, Rob. It's just… the constant rumors and accusations… I feel like everyone's out to get me. It's been a year already and this nightmare still hasn't ended."

“Look, David, in just a few more weeks, you'll win this case and everything will go back to normal."

“Yeah, normal. Instead of losing sleep over false accusations and potential jail time, I go back to the days when you drag me to every bar you can think of, all the while wondering how my love life would be different if I looked more like you."

Rob laughed. “Hey so you can tell a joke. And here I thought your sense of humor dried up, unless you were really just being a total dick, but I'll take it as a joke anyway. 'Cause we both know— " Rob paused to toss his hair “—I look damn good."

David smiled weakly at his friend's response. In truth he was partly joking. He had always been jealous of Rob's appearance. During their time in high school, Rob was known as the tall, handsome friend and not much had changed since then. Rob was still taller and far more muscular. His hair, while long, was always neat and straight. Even after his nose was broken, Rob was still considered better looking. David would be lying if he said it didn't bother him a little.

Rob threw his arm around his friend's shoulder. “You can do this. I mean, you held out this long. Now, you say it was an accident right?"

“Of course it was."

“And you had nothing to do with it?"

“Of course not. I wasn't even there when it happened," David said, making no attempt to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“And you never told anyone that you wanted her dead?"

David lifted his head, glaring daggers at his friend. “What the fuck are you trying to say Rob?" he snarled.

“Whoa, whoa." Rob backed away from the table. “I'm just sayin' that if you had nothin' to do with it, then there's nothin' to worry about."

David looked down at the table. He suddenly felt guilty for even doubting him. Rob was only trying to cheer him up. Rob was, literally, the only friend he had left not including the inanimate desktop in the bedroom, and here he was snapping at everything he said. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Rob waved off the apology. “No problem. I know anything involving Lori is a sensitive subject." he clapped David on the shoulder. “I'm sorry about your job, and Stephanie. I really thought you two had a connection." David rolled his eyes at him. His friend said the same for just about every woman he'd ever talked to. “Hey, I'm being serious."

David stood up, walked back to the living room and dropped onto the sofa. “Me and Stephanie are just friends."

“I think she wanted to be more than friends. I mean, I've seen the way she looks at you." Rob dropped on the sofa next to David. The sofa sagged even further from the increased weight. “That's probably why she broke it off with you. She got tired of waitin' on you. Dunno what you're waitin' for. You're single. She's single. She clearly likes you. You're clearly alone and horny. Go for it."

David opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it again. Ignoring the horny bit, maybe Rob was right; he and Stephanie had been friends for a long time. But they were just really close, right? David couldn't deny that he had always found her attractive, but he was already in a committed relationship since the day he met her. Taking things further never crossed his mind. What if Stephanie felt differently but never said anything because she didn't want to cause a breakup? If that was true, he was single for a year now, so why hadn't she made a move?

Considering the circumstances it was clear why. It's not that she didn't want to.  She couldn't, not with him being the prime suspect in the death of his last girlfriend. David found himself gripping the sofa again. He didn't want Rob to see things getting to him, but he couldn't help it; Stephanie was just another thing being added to the ever growing list of things he lost.

“Don't beat yourself up over it, D. It just so happens I know the perfect cure for getting over your lady troubles," Rob said.

David looked at his friend, his anger vanishing just as quickly as it appeared. “Would that be going a bar and getting drunk while trying to pick up women?"

“You know it," Rob answered excitedly, heading for the door.

David couldn't help but smile. Rob believed the solution to every problem was picking up women. Rob was a total womanizer, and made no attempts to hide it. That bothered David more than anything because he knew what a good guy Rob was, but females brought out a side of his friend he didn't care for. He thought telling Rob he would take a rain check, but it occurred to him it might do some good to get out for a while. Staying cooped up in the apartment, lamenting over what could have been, didn't sound like a fun way to spend the day. “Sure. I guess I could use a drink. But I'll pass on the 'pick-up women' part. I got enough problems without adding relationships to the list."

****

 David felt a lump form in his throat as he stared at the entrance to the bar. The word 'Kitty's' written on the glass window looked fairly new, making it stand out from the door which showed years worth of wear and tear. Just looking at the decal was enough to make David want to vomit. Coming here was a mistake. Why would Rob choose this bar of all places?

“What are you standin' 'round for? Come on."

Rob's voice snapped David back into reality. He started to ask Rob why he chose this place but decided against it. It was something of a tradition for the two to head to Kitty's when one of them felt down or wanted to celebrate a special occasion, but David hadn't been back to this place for over a year now. It held too many memories he wasn't ready to face. David pushed the memories trying to break for the surface of his consciousness as far to the back of his mind as he could and followed his friend inside.

The bar looked almost exactly as it did a year ago; the bar still sat on one side of the room while several booths lined the opposite wall and a few rounded tables stood in middle as if unable to choose a side. The only difference between now and then was the tables and chairs were in slightly different positions, one of the booths had its seats relined, and the television perched in the corner had been upgraded to a flat screen. David was even pretty sure the bartender was still the same.

The moment he entered, nearly everyone in the bar looked at the door. Almost immediately David noticed the various patrons whispering among themselves or throwing glares his way. He wished he had stayed home.

 One woman, a short, brown collie, rushed past him out the door, but not before hissing something that sounded like “murderer" under her breath as she purposely shoved past him.  

David felt Rob's large hand on his shoulder, “I'm gonna grab us a seat," Rob said, looking around. “You go and grab the drinks."

Before he could protest, Rob walked away leaving David standing by the door, fighting the strange feeling of déjà vu. It reminded him of when they used to sneak into bars with fake I.D.s. Rob always left him to go get the drinks while he found a table and chatted-up college girls. Thinking back on those days, it's a miracle they were never caught.

He approached the bar. Two humans sitting nearby whispered to each other before moving further down the bar. David growled under his breath. No one even bothered to hear his side.

“Hey, you, I haven't seen you a while," a familiar, sweet voice said. David turned to see the bartender, a female panther, smiling at him. “What can I get you?"

“Hi, Candice. I'll just have a beer and a glass of the strongest stuff you got," David said softly. He looked around quickly for Rob. He was going to kill his friend for bringing him here.

“You're not planning on driving later are you?" the panther said jokingly as she gathered the drinks. “You know a few people have been coming by here asking questions 'bout you," she said in a serious tone as she slid the drinks the across the counter. “You should be careful; they weren't asking very nice questions."

David nodded and reached for the glasses. Candice reached across the counter and gently touched his arm. “Hey, no matter what anyone says, I believe you're innocent, okay?"

He gave her a half smile as he nodded again. It was nice to hear someone wasn't buying into all the lies. He quickly made his way over to Rob who, thankfully, chose a table in the corner where it would be easy to go unnoticed. He sat down, lifted the collar of his jacket, and put his head down.

Rob sipped his beer as he looked around. “Looks like we caught 'em on one of their quiet days. I hardly see any women worth talking to, 'cept maybe that collie you passed on the way in."

David wasn't listening. He sat there, playing with his drink. He regretted coming here.  Kitty's was the same bar where he first met Lori. Rob was with him at the time, but he was fairly certain that Rob didn't remember. If he did, he would have never suggested to going to a place certain to dig up such painful memories. Even still, he hated Rob for bringing him to this bar of all places.

“So did Caldwell tell you why he fired you?" Rob asked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Because I got into a fight with his son," David replied mechanically, still playing with his drink. He was grateful the subject was being changed. Hopefully it would take his mind off things.

“Oh right. I remember that," Rob leaned back in his chair, a big grin spreading across his face. “It was nice to see someone finally give that bastard what he deserved. Just wish I had actually seen it. Y'know, I actually remember the time I came by the store…"

David stopped listening again. The more he looked around, the more he realized how much of a mistake coming here was.

Everything about the place reminded him of Lori: the look, smell, and even the random snippets of conversation he heard from the other customers. It all brought back that fateful encounter five years ago.

Post-Story Notes

Okay the first chapter of my first story is complete. There will be many chapters and stories to come.

The dream sequence was definitely something I struggled with a lot for this chapter. I wanted it to mean something that wasn't immediately apparent to the reader but something you could eventually figure out. I don't think it was perfectly clear, but most dreams aren't so I decided to leave it alone.

As far as a rating for this story goes I'm just going to rate every chapter the same. Over the course of this story there's going to be violence, blood, foul language and sexual references(nothing x-rated) and it's going to be a huge pain trying to rate each individual chapter. I will flag anything I feel is more graphic so anyone bothered by such things will have a heads up.

Finally to wrap things up, I know a lot of people on this site say this but please let me know in the comments how I did so I can improve later chapters and stories.