Fear of Dreams

Lee Victoria

Description

A novel of Rachael's horrific dreams that gets her involved in mysteries about murders and serial killers. Very captivating and intriguing, you just can't wait to get to the next chapter to see what is going to happen next.
Victoria Lee has been plagued by nightmares for as long as she can remember. She’s not sure why she has been handed this horrible curse, but she has learned to live with dreams that leave her awake, shaking, and scared. Fear of Dreams is a fictionalized account of her real life experience.
For the first time, Victoria has decided to write down the frightening things she sees—the things that leave her dreading night’s darkness. By writing down her nightmares, she hopes she will find some relief. Thankfully, Victoria has always had a wonderful family who has overlooked her outbursts in the night. They have weathered the psychological storms at her side.
Now, follow “Rachael” as her dreadful dreams get her involved in mystery, murder, and serial killers. Dreams might haunt, but they come to us for a reason. Perhaps Rachael can find a way to use her own terror for good. Perhaps, she—and Victoria—can finally be free of the fear of dreams.

Sujets

• Dreams
• Suspenso
• Mysteries
• Horror
• Fear
• Murder
• Suspense
• Dream
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 16 avril 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665740319
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

FEAR OF DREAMS
VICTORIA LEE


Copyright © 2022 Victoria Lee.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
 
 
 
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4032-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4031-9 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023904496
 
 
 
Archway Publishing rev. date: 04/12/2023
CONTENTS
Chapter 1Dreams of Terror
Chapter 2River Fun
Chapter 3River Killings
Chapter 4Witness
Chapter 5Funerals
Chapter 6Growing Up
Chapter 7Nightmares Continue
Chapter 8Life Goes On
Chapter 9Love Begins
Chapter 10And Then, Marriage
Chapter 11Married Dreams
Chapter 12Normal Life or Not
Chapter 13Normal Life
Chapter 14The Dinner
Chapter 15The Board Meeting
Chapter 16The Escape
Chapter 17The Ride
Chapter 18Chatterbox
Chapter 19The Commune
Chapter 20Don’t Drink the Kool-Aid
Chapter 21House of Peace
Chapter 22The Cult
Chapter 23Fun with Jerry
Chapter 24You’re Going to Marry Me
Chapter 25Dreams with Jerry
Chapter 26House of Blood
Chapter 27Mean Jerry
Chapter 28Things in the Night
Chapter 29The Secret is Out
Chapter 30Chores
Chapter 31House of Power
Chapter 32Leader Charles
Chapter 33House of Loneliness
Chapter 34Cindy and Bill Saga
Chapter 35Back to Chores
Chapter 36Jerry’s Beatings
Chapter 37Cindy’s Secrets
Chapter 38The Escape
Chapter 39The Return
Chapter 40My Story
Chapter 41Plans to Kill
Chapter 42Sneakers
Chapter 43Staying Busy
Chapter 44Murderous Plans
Chapter 45Nightly Rituals
Chapter 46Murders Uncovered
Chapter 47Harassing Packages
Chapter 48Tell Gary
Chapter 49The Kill
Chapter 50Restoration
Chapter 51Will Dreams Go Away?
Chapter 52Telling My Sister
Chapter 53Decision to Make
Chapter 54Amazing Truth
Chapter 55Veronica
Chapter 56Investigation Continues
Chapter 57It is Over
Chapter 58True Story
Chapter 59Anne
Chapter 60Road to Recovery
Chapter 61Fading Dreams
Chapter 62It’s Time
Chapter 63Gary’s Turn

This book is lovingly dedicated to Lori, without whom I would have never made it through my lifetime of horrendous dreams.
CHAPTER 1
DREAMS OF TERROR
Mama and I had gone to the grocery store in town. When we got home, I shouldered the door open, with apples threatening to escape my grocery bag and spill onto the floor. “Why can’t I go to Carol’s house tonight?”
My mom trailed right behind me. “Because it’s a school night.”
“Tomorrow’s going to be lame. All we do is watch movies from a thousand years ago.”
One of Mama’s eyebrows shot up. “Hey, most of those movies were made in my day.”
“Like I said, a thousand years ago.”
Mama grinned. “As soon as you put that sack down, I’ll will show you how old I am.”
I dodged around the kitchen island. “Maybe I’m never going to put it down.”
Mama gave chase. I giggled and ran. The third time around, I slammed into something big and solid. Well, more like someone. I tumbled to the ground, the apples spilling from my discarded sack. A jar shattered inside, and spaghetti sauce soaked the paper red.
I looked up and stared right into the ugliest face I’d ever seen. The man stood tall, taller than Dad. He wore a big cowboy hat and a dusty black coat that flowed to his ankles. A bulbous nose squatted on his face, and a deep red scar sliced over one dead eye.
“Mama,” I whimpered, but she didn’t reply. I scooted back across the floor. The cowboy grinned. He reached under the coat and pulled out a knife. A knife? Shouldn ’ t that have been a six-shooter? “Mama,” I said louder. My head whipped from right to left, but she was nowhere to be seen.
The cowboy took a step and then paused to cough up some blood. He spat a thick wad onto the floor. For a moment, he stared at it, and then he began to chuckle.
Where had Mama gone? Why was I all alone? My heart hammered so loud that I felt it in my ears. My breathing became shallow. I wanted to run, but for some reason, I couldn’t even stand. Desperate, I reached out to grab something, anything. A baseball bat, one of Joe’s skates, a fork—heck, even a can of beans; I just needed something to fend him off. Lucky Charms, family-size. Not my first choice, but I couldn’t be picky. I snatched it up. Somehow the box had rolled out of the grocery bag and across the kitchen. Could a box of cereal roll?
The cowboy stopped chuckling. His gaze bored right through me, freezing me to the spot. I clutched the box of cereal tightly to my chest. Please, God, please . He raised the knife to eye level and then sliced it back and forth through the air. The display lasted only a second or two before abruptly stopping. He cocked a half grin, opened his mouth wide, and let his tongue roll out of his mouth. He drew the blade along the length of his tongue.
I cringed. Shivers crawled all over my body. I’d helped Daddy when he was paying the bills once. I liked to lick the envelopes; they tasted like peppermint. Well, I liked licking them until the day I cut my tongue. I screamed and cried, and I never offered to help again—and that was a stupid piece of paper. A knife had to be a million times worse.
Blood dripped from the blade. The cowboy grinned, his teeth stained red. I whimpered and tried to grow very small and very still. It didn’t matter. He started toward me with a few tentative steps and then built up steam. A few strides later, he reached a sprint. I figured he’d be on top me in a matter of seconds.
Wait—why isn’t he on top of me now? When did the kitchen get so huge? As soon as I thought those questions, the world seemed to shrink, and my kitchen snapped back to its regular size. The cowboy loomed over me, blotting out the dim light cast by the single bulb dangling above his head. He raised the knife high and held it for a moment. He seemed almost frozen. Light pushed through his ghostly body to cast a hazy shadow over everything around me.
Dangling over the edge of the counter were Mama’s keys and the little spray bottle of mace attached to the ring. We weren’t supposed to use it. Joe did once. Got it on his hands and eyes, which got all puffy, and he screamed and screamed. Mama had said, “That’s what you get for not listening,” but she looked really worried. She put his hands in Maalox. It helps a sore tummy. Apparently, it works on hands too. No, we weren’t supposed to touch the mace, but surely this was an exception. If only I could reach it.
I tried to stand, but the cowboy put one dirty boot on my chest and pushed me back down. I heard the echo of his spurs, as if he was coming from the OK Corral, rather than being in front of my face. I began to cry. “Hey, wait!” Wait, for what? I had no idea. I would miss Mama and Dad. I would miss my sisters, Veronica and Teresa. Heck, I’d even miss Joe, not that I would have ever told him that. “Please,” I said, not knowing what else to add.
The cowboy paused and tapped the knife against his cheek, like he was thinking hard. He pulled off the dusty hat and ran a hand through his greasy hair. Something decayed and foul-smelling plopped out of the hat and onto the floor. He didn’t seem to notice, but I did. We sometimes had moles wash up into our basement when it rained really hard. They would die down there and stick to the floor. They always stank. This smelled just like that.
Hold on. Something doesn’t add up . Where was the knife? I glanced back up, only to scream in horror as the knife plunged down. I held the cereal box like a shield. The knife slammed right into the smiling picture of Lucky, but somehow, the box held it back. When the cowboy yanked the knife free, blood began to ooze from the box. The river that flowed down to the floor contained the usual marshmallows, green clovers, blue diamonds, yellow horseshoes—all of the Lucky Charms. Only they weren’t green or blue or yellow. They were red, all red, like tiny little organs. Vomit churned in my stomach and then rushed to my mouth. It erupted forth in a scream.
Veronica woke me up, yelling, “Rachael, wake up! It’s just another one of your bad dreams.”
I was shaking all over. Veronica was my younger sister who, it seemed, was not scared of anything. I was two years older and wished I was fearless as she was. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Mama and Dad burst into the room. They both looked frazzled. Dark circles hung beneath their eyes.
“Rachael, are you OK?” Mama asked.
I nodded but found it hard to speak.
“She’s fine,” Veronica said. “Just another bad dream.”
Dad leaned against the wall. He ran his hand over his face. “Third one this week.”
Fourth , I thought, but who’s counting?
The cowboy