Free The Nightmare Inflictor by Ginna Moran Page A

claps in the distance. It’s always so satisfying destroying a dream amid a rainstorm. I create them in almost every dream I invade.
    A scream rips through the air and I sense the dreamer nearby. The wail is ear-piercing and unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It stops me in my tracks for a second. She’s a banshee, remember?
    I blink a few times as rain pelts my face and floods the dead garden. Gliding forward through the mud, I reach a small cement path that leads to a looming, plantation-style home. Drooping willow trees line the path and I run my hand along the sorrowful branches and leave them dead in my wake.
    Another scream rips through the air and I cringe at the intense sound. I need to find the dreamer and finish the nightmare so I can get out of here.
    Elizabeth stands on the front lawn of the house, gripping the hand of a man who looks like he could be her father. His arm drapes over her shoulder and she covers her eyes with her hands. Her hair cascades down her back in a waterfall of blue curls and her whole body trembles.
    “No, please, no. Don’t take him!” Elizabeth cries and buries her face in the man’s chest. “I’ll do anything, please, you can’t have him.”
    The man stares at me, a frown marring his face, and he pulls away from Elizabeth. “There’s nothing to be done. You can’t stop death. You know this, Lizzy.”
    Elizabeth jerks her head up to face me. “You don’t know that!” she yells. “Have you ever tried?”
    Elizabeth freezes as I glide closer. She grabs her throat as a long, agonizing wail rips through the air. Her wide eyes stare at me, unblinking, and the sound of her scream sends ice down my spine. Her greatest fear isn’t a monster or an event—it’s death.
    I feel bad for her. I hate who I am, but Elizabeth is truly tormented by who she is. A banshee afraid of death...maybe they all are. Maybe it’s why they scream...
    I can’t handle invading her dream any longer. Strolling closer, I close myself off to the sound of her dream and approach the man. I wrap my arms around him and he explodes into a cloud of black dust. I suck in his dream essence and lick my lips.
    “No!” Elizabeth screams. She drops to her knees and cries into the grass. “Why did you have to take him?”
    I turn toward her and kneel at her side. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth,” I say. I cup her chin so she has to look me in the eyes. “I’m here for you, too.”
    The nightmare crumbles around me and I pull myself from Elizabeth’s mind. I’m out of the building within a few seconds and plop down on the grass.
    The moon veils my pale skin in soft light and I feel alive again—I feel human. Color returns to my hair and eyes because of the nourishment I get from the dreams. I wish I could look and feel human like this all the time. I wish I wasn’t cursed with this horrible ability. It’s always the first few minutes after I leave a nightmare that I realize what I’m missing. The shift between my nightmare inflictor side and my human side is the one thing no one will ever understand.
    I think it would be better if I was either completely human or completely a monster so I wouldn’t know any better. But of course, that can never be, because like my father says, I am what I am and that will never change.
     

2. RISK
     
     
     
     
     
     
    It’s been a long day indoors. I’m weak with hunger from resisting the temptation of creating nightmares for five days now—and because of it, I’m bound to the night. It’s what happens when I don’t invade dreams. It’s how the monster within me punishes me for starving it.
    When I was ten, I once told my father it felt like I was being possessed by another creature and it was the one forcing me into the dreams of people.
    He told me it was a ridiculous thought because I was a nightmare inflictor and that feeling was just my need to survive. I wanted to believe him.
    I still want to believe him. But, I really do think my monster side is one