Angela sat in bed, her journal on her lap.
This was not something for the blog.
She opened her journal, picked up her pen, and hesitated. What should she say about this?
“I woke up a 4:03 to immense pain in my upper left thigh. When I pulled back the covers, there was a lot of blood on the sheets. I got up quickly and went to the bathroom to see what the damage was, but it didn’t take more than a glance to decide that I couldn’t handle this at home.
“There was a 4” gash along my outer thigh. I wrapped it in with a towel to slow the bleeding, and took myself to the ER.”
Angela paused. She didn’t want to write any more than this. But it still happened, even if she didn’t write it down.
“They treated me fairly quickly - I was bleeding lots. They gave me stitches, and a nurse showed me how to dress the wound. By then, it was dawn. I left the hospital, and stood, trying to remember where I’d parked the car.
“There was a guy there, leaning against the building by the door. I didn’t really notice him until he spoke. ‘Did that injury happen while you were asleep?’ I think those were his exact words.
“He came over the stand closer, but not too close. He was drinking a cup of coffee from the vending machine in the cafeteria, and he didn’t look too happy about it. He had more than a 5 o-clock shadow, and he was handsome, in a rugged way.
“I wasn’t sure what to say. I took a long time not saying it, and he stood there, quietly waiting. ‘How did you know?’ is what I asked. Or something like that.
“He introduced himself as Ray, and he said that his friend has the same problem. He said that his friend is looking for others. And he said that I’ll be safe, sleeping, until the next new moon.
“I’ve gone back through the dates in this journal, and he’s right. Every time I’ve noted a strange mark, bruise, cut, or scrape when I wake up in the morning, it’s always been the night of the new moon.
“Even stranger is that he knew I’d died. He said that’s how it starts. He gave me a piece of paper, folded up. He didn’t have to write on it, it was ready to go. On this paper are four pieces of information. His phone number and email, and Phillip’s phone number and email. I assume Phillip is his friend who has the same problem I do.
“The strangest thing, I think, is that he said he was waiting there for me.”
Angela leaned back against the headboard, deep in thought. She leaned forward to continue writing, “How does he know all of these things about me? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen him before - I think I would remember someone as attractive as him. Even if I had seen him - even if I’d talked to him in class - he knew things I’ve told no one.
“It’s been eight months since the accident, and I’m tired to being afraid to sleep. I knew something was wrong, but before tonight, I wasn’t willing to say that my nightmares were hurting me.
“I need to find out more. Ray already had one piece of information I didn’t. What else does he know? I’ve left voicemail for him asking if we can meet at Starbucks tonight. So now he has my phone number.”
Angela closed her journal. She felt anxious, and could hardly wait to meet with Ray again. He knew what was going on. And once she knew what was going on, she could put a name to the vague unease she’d suffered from since the accident.
But mostly, right now, she was exhausted. She decided to skip class this morning, and catch up on sleep.
“I met Ray for at Starbucks tonight, at 8. He looked tired, and said that he’d been able to catch two hours of sleep before going to work today.
“I feel comfortable around him, and I need to be sure to be on my guard. I don’t know him yet, and he may not be who he seems.
“But even if he isn’t, the information he has is extremely valuable.
“I asked him about what he said - that he was waiting for me. He said that he had no idea it would be me, particularly. But he and Phillip had hoped that this would be a way to identify another victim of the nightmare problem. On the night of the new moon, every month for over two years, he’s been at the ER, waiting for someone.
“He said he may have missed others, but he’s looking for what he called a haunted look, and I had it this morning. Lucky me?
“He asked me when I died, and I told him about the accident. What little I remember. He asked if I can remember the dream I had last night, and I told him the truth. I remember nothing except being terribly afraid. I had taken from this journal the dates and injuries I’ve suffered before, and I showed him the list.
“He noted the dates, and said that although the injuries are getting worse, it doesn’t mean that pattern will continue in the future. He noted that there are two new moons missing when I did not wake up with injuries.
“I asked him to explain. And this is where it gets weird. Weirder. He asked if I believe in the supernatural. I said that I don’t really have much choice at this point.
“There is a group of people who use rituals to enter dreams, and hunt the dreamer. They call themselves Hunters, and they only hunt prey who have already died. Each prey will only have one Hunter. Hunters have more than one prey, but they can only visit one per new moon.
“This is, of course, way outside believable. But I have stitches in my leg that tell me it’s possible. I asked what we can do about it.
“I could tell he didn’t want to say. But he did. We can’t do anything.
“I felt like I wanted to cry. Now that I know what I’m afraid of, I can’t do anything about it.
“He said that Phillip was hoping to meet another prey. He hopes that we can put our heads together and figure something out.
“I asked how we know about the Hunters at all. Ray didn’t exactly dodge the question, but he did say that’s something I’ll have to ask Phillip.
“Phillip is expecting me to get in touch with him, but he’s attending college up in Maine, so he can’t be here in person. Ray thinks I need to talk to him, and I do too.
“Ray was reluctant to admit it, but he says that they’ve found links that connect the Hunters to people who have been killed. These Hunters are dangerous, and this isn’t a little problem, for the people it affects.
“I’m tired, and I need to sleep on this. But I’m going to call Phillip tomorrow - Ray says he doesn’t have classes between 11 and 2 tomorrow, so I’ll try then.
“So, to recap, a dangerous Hunter has been trying to kill me in my dreams, but because of a ritual he uses to do it, I can’t remember. I can and have been hurt, and I could be killed. The only good news is that two of us have found each other. Maybe we can learn to fight back.”
Angela closed her journal, slid the pen into the spiral binding, and put it under her pillow.
If there was one good thing today had brought, it was that she didn’t have to be afraid to sleep tonight.
“I talked to Phillip today. He was excited to speak to me, and his excitement was a more than a little infectious.
“He got down to brass tacks right away. He told me that we don’t currently have any way to make the Hunters stop, and he has not found a way to simply stay awake for the night of the new moon. Their ritual seems to have the ability to drag us to sleep.
“It was at this point that I asked permission to record our conversation. I told him I’m keeping a journal, and I’ll want to preserve this recording as part of my record-keeping. He was excited about that, too, saying that a journal was what helped him and his uncle figure out what was going on the start with. He said that this would then be another chance to learn more about what’s going on.
“The rest of this conversation is transcribed verbatim.”
Phillip: I’m going to tell you as much as possible right now, but there are some things that need to be discussed in person. You’re the first and only other prey we’ve managed to identify, and you’re owed as much information as I can possibly tell you.
Me: How long have you known?
Phillip: About three years.
Me: How did you find out what was going on with the Hunters?
Phillip: My uncle found an old journal, and he was the one who first learned about the Hunters. He made the connection to my having been injured in my sleep on several new moons in the past. I keep a journal, too.
Me: And how long have you, I mean, when did you die?
Phillip: When I was 15. That was six years ago.
Me: You’ve survived all this time. That’s promising.
Phillip: Yeah. Yeah, it is. And the more we can collaborate, the better our odds will be. But like you, I’ve been injured.
Me: What was your worst injury?
Phillip: One head injury - I had struck my head on something, and there was concern of a concussion. Something broke several fingers in my right hand. And stitches - six sets of stitches, I think. Mostly my arms, but one set on my lower calf.
Me: So what do we do about this situation?
Phillip: I have no idea. Do you remember anything from your dreams?
Me: I don’t. But since my accident, I’ve become inexplicably frightened of cornfields.
Phillip: That tells us your setting, then. As well as I’ve been able to determine, that doesn’t change, but it is specific to you. Each Hunter can only hunt one prey each new moon.
Me: One Hunter?
Phillip: One Hunter.
Me: What’s your setting, then?
Phillip: I don’t remember much. But I know it’s heavily wooded, and I know there’s a stream.
Me: So, what are we going to do?
Phillip: I’m going to visit Ray before the next new moon. Are you available to meet on any weekends before then?
Me: Yeah. Next weekend is booked up, but the weekend after, I’ll be available.
Phillip: Excellent. I’m going to send you some scans of this journal we’ve got. Do you mind sharing your email address?
Me: No, not at all.
I gave him my primary email address at this time. He gave me his, so I can watch for this email. He also gave me a password so I can open the files.
Me: That’s passworded, you said? Are you going to be bothered if I show this to anyone?
Phillip: No. You need someone to support you in this. I have Ray, plus my father and uncle. But remember what you’re telling them. Choose wisely - not very many people will believe you.
Me: No, I don’t suppose so.
Phillip: I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of answers. I’m pinning a lot of hope on what we can do together. But I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to help you. Don’t let it get you down.
Me: No. No. I survived the accident, the coma, and physical therapy. I’ll survive this, too. Tell me, what was your death?
Phillip: My foster father lost his temper, and beat me to death. I died of asphyxiation after he cracked two of my ribs, which punctured a lung. At this point Phillip laughed awkwardly. That’s probably too much information. Sorry.
Me: I’m sorry. That’s terrible.
Phillip: Yeah, but I don’t remember much of it. He also kicked me in the head a couple of times, and it scrambled my memories of that night. Besides, that was a whole different lifetime. He chuckled at his joke. What about you? How are you?
Me: Okay. It was a 4" slice to my upper leg, but it missed the artery, so it just needed stitches. What do they hunt with?
Phillip: As far as we can tell, they only use old tools. Bow and arrow, hunting knife, and their own hands.
Me: It must have been a knife, then. What happens to us if they kill us?
Phillip: If they kill us, we die. I recommend against it. Again, he chuckled at his own joke. So, read those files, and get back to me if you have questions.
The files showed up in my email while I was transcribing this conversation. I want to read them, but it’s Friday, and I have to get to class. Tonight, after I get home from the bar with Sally, Trent, and Burton.
So, I didn’t have time to read by the time I got home last night. Which is okay, because, well, I’m not sure sure what to think.
If it weren’t for what happened to me, I would dismiss it outright.
The journal, which is scanned, starts with a letter from a man named Paul to his friend, Nathaniel. He expresses concern that a local man, Samuel Tanner, knows too much about witchcraft, and emphasizes knowledge Samuel had which not in the Malleus Maleficarum.
[NOTE TO SELF: Ask Phillip if witches are different from wizards]
The letter seems quite old and somewhat damaged, and the cursive is hard to read. Phillip has included a transcription of it. I compared the transcription to the text, and it is accurate.
With the mood set by the letter, I settled in to read Nathaniel’s journal.
Nathaniel’s journal is not photocopied or scanned. Rather, it has been photographed - probably to preserve the binding. It looks, again, aged and the edges of the pages are chipped. Again, a transcription has been provided. I spot-checked the transcription, and it does still seem to be accurate.
This is where I’m having trouble. Nathaniel was a wizard, and he was concerned that Samuel was practicing the “black arts.” I’m unsure if witchcraft is considered a black art - Nathaniel does not clarify this point.
The first entry (March) is Nathaniel receiving the letter, and preparing to visit his friend. He seems to feel Paul may be in some danger. I can see from the photographs that this entry is roughly half-way into the journal, and I’m curious what comes before.
[NOTE TO SELF: Ask Phillip about the earlier portions of this journal]
Over the next year, Nathaniel documents the process of learning what magics Samuel was working. He worked with a spell-writer in August (and is very excited that she is a woman.) He mentions that his own wizard’s guild doesn’t have any women.
In February, he and another wizard work the new spell together, and he enters the dream-world. He observed Samuel and six other men. One of them lay claim to a new prey, giving Nathaniel a chance to learn of the criteria that all prey must have already died, and that each Hunter can only have three prey at a time.
The journal ends with Nathaniel deciding that his goal is to stop the Hunters.
Phillip’s notes say that Paul took over the process of documenting their progress. Of this, I only received a summary - Nathaniel and many other wizards were able to stop the Hunters.
[NOTE TO SELF: Ask Phillip how they were stopped, and why they’re back]
I have choices to make, now. Do I choose to accept this as truth? Or am I being scammed, somehow? Pranked?
I’ve purchased a camera. On the night of the new moon, I’ll set it up facing my bed, and film myself, all night. If a person has done this to me, I’ll see it. And if not, then I’ll be left with a conclusion I don’t want to have to accept.
And now I have to post to my blog. I think I’ll talk about hanging out with Sally, Trent, and Burton last night. I cannot write about this stuff where other people will see it.
If I’m being pranked/scammed, I want to figure it out on my own, without the embarrassment of everyone knowing.
And if I’m not? If I’m not, then I don’t know who my confidante will be.
Phillip said Ray, plus his dad and uncle, have been there for him through this process. But I don’t think I have anyone I can rely on like that.
[NOTE TO SELF: Ask Phillip how he obtained Nathaniel's journal]
I sent my questions for Phillip in a text on Saturday night, and he didn’t get back to me until Monday night.
He said he had a consulting job over the weekend. When I asked him what type of work he did, he changed the subject.
He’s being elusive about something. I’ll have to be careful around him and Ray until I’m able to get straight answers.
He did answer my other three questions. Sort of. Transcript follows:
Phillip: Wizards tend to be meticulous record-keepers, and Nathaniel was no exception. His journal has been in the library of four generations of wizards since Nathaniel. My uncle knows that last generation wizard. He assured me that its provenance is as trustworthy as things things can be.
Me: I see from the photos that there’s a lot before and after these entries in Nathaniel’s journal. What else is in there?
Phillip: Nathaniel kept this journal to help him keep track of who he helped, and how. Before these entries is a litany of people, what their problem was, and how he assisted. He notes which spells and potions worked, and which ones didn’t. What comes after this section is more of the same. I’ll bring you the original this coming weekend.
Me: Okay, my third question is probably the most important. How were the Hunters were stopped? And how is it they’re back now?
Phillip: We have no answers to those questions. All the documentation on how to interact with the dream realm created by the Hunters was destroyed in order to prevent others from using the same techniques. I’ll send you the page from Paul’s journal where he talks about it.
Me: You have Paul’s journal, too?
Phillip: Sort of. He took over documenting the process of stopping the Hunters - Nathaniel was too busy for it. Most of his journal was destroyed when other documentation regarding the Hunters was destroyed. What we have is a handful of pages torn out of his journal, and stuffed into Nathaniel’s.
Me: Too bad. So, can you explain how witches differ from wizards?
Phillip: Witchcraft is a different system of magic, which uses an internal source of magic, whereas wizardry uses magic that is found outside the body, in the natural world. There are areas where they look the same, and both have suffered persecution for their art. The wizard who currently holds this journal tells me they are still quite secretive for that reason.
Me: What about black magic? Nathaniel mentioned that.
Phillip: Most practitioners use their magic to perform acts that are considered beneficial, or at least neutral. But both witches and wizards are corruptible. Black magic is just that - someone using a form of magic in ways that harm others through neglect or outright malevolence.
Me: The Hunters, then? Is that black magic?
Phillip: Absolutely. They intend nothing but harm.
Me: Can I meet this wizard your uncle knows? Can he help us?
Phillip: So far, no, he hasn’t been able to help. But you can meet him, sure. But first, you and I and Ray should get together. There are some things I want to talk to you about in person.
Me: That’s this coming weekend, right?
Phillip: Right. Pick a restaurant, we’ll all meet there. Listen, Angela, I know all this is crazy. We’re talking about things we cannot prove, because they happen in that part of ourselves that cannot be documented. It’s okay to be skeptical, and if you hold doubts in your mind, that’s okay. In fact, that’s good. Approaching a problem from a different perspective can be powerful.
Me: How did you know I’m having doubts?
Phillip: I assumed, because I did. It took quite some time to accept this as truth.
Me: Thanks. Listen, Phillip?
Phillip: Yeah?
Me: You seem like a really nice guy. So does Ray. I want to thank you both for being so proactive in seeking others being Hunted.
Phillip: We’re just doing what’s right. If you spot anyone else, you’ll do the same, I’m sure.
Me: I will. As slim as the odds of that are, I will. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll arrange the restaurant with Ray - he knows the area.
Phillip: Sounds good. I look forward to meeting you in person.
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