Her Hourglass

By Damian Bloodstone (damianbloodstone@gmail.com)

Copyright © 8/21/2012  All Rights Reserved.  This cannot be copied in whole or in part without the author's sole express permission.

He drove to the location his group therapy leader had given him.  Even with all the help they had provided, his nightmares wouldn’t end. This doctor was his last hope. The nightmares were taking their toll on his mental state. He needed them gone so he could get on with his life.

He approached the building; it’s modern and sleek façade, absent of plants or trees, appeared cold and sterile.  He pulled to the curb and sat in his car, staring, his hands gripped the steering wheel.  He didn't think he could go in, he didn’t know if he should. The building did nothing to evoke confidence or put his mind at ease. He had arrived thirty minutes early and now had to wait, and think.

His hand slid over the concealed pockets that held his knives and the big knife across his back.  The touch of the big bowie to his back was a comfort few could relate to.  Every month he had added a new weapon.  The fear from his nightmares had made him so paranoid he could no longer be with any girls at his high school or even relax around them for some reason.  In his mind, they weren't normal anymore and something to be feared.  Everyone was becoming an enemy in his mind.

He watched two people come out and go to a car down from his, a mother and her son by the looks of them.  The boy seemed upbeat and cheerful enough as they got into their car.  It helped soothe him to see their happiness, made him feel a bit hopeful. He placed his hands back on the steering wheel as he stared at the clock while he decided whether to go in.

The cool wind was a delight as he walked up to the building.  It wasn't a long walk, but he noticed some groups of teens wearing gang markings surrounding a small market down from his car.  He knew the neighborhood was rough but not this rough in the daytime.  His weapons were more of a comfort with that knowledge.

This did nothing to overcome his paranoia about being attacked by someone.  In his dreams, it was always a person he couldn't quite see, couldn't remember.  In the reality of life, it was far less complicated.  He could see his enemies, they were physical and not something that only invaded his mind.

He opened the plain glass door to the building and found it led into a single office.  His eyes adjusted slowly to the room's dim light and dark woods.  He breathed to calm his nerves.  The scents from the leather furniture were strong in the outer office with a hint of something sweet in the air.  An ornately carved desk with an hourglass and stylist on it was near the inner office door.  Everything was antique looking and appeared out of place with the outside of the building.

An attractive woman came out from the inner office.  Her elegant red silk dress, held up by gold flower clasps upon her shoulders, reminded him of Roman styling.  She sat down behind the desk and opened the center drawer.  He couldn't help but stare.

"You must be…Mr. Hersh." She glanced into the open desk drawer.  "You're very early.  Please, take a seat and relax."  She closed the drawer.  “Dr. Kenneth will see you at 3 pm."

He chose the leather chair in the corner.  Studying the woman, he guessed her age to be about 20.  Her speech and educated ways implied much more experience.

"Do you always show up this early for an appointment?" She spun the hourglass in the holder, back and forth, a few times on the desk before settling it down to flow.

"Not … usually." He rubbed his hands together and then moved them to the arms of the chair.  "I haven't been to this area…didn't know if I might get into heavy traffic or possibly get lost.  The GPS navigation was useless."

"This is the first time you've come to Dr. Kenneth then?"

"Yes."  He let his right hand fall to the concealed pocket of his pants, stroking the item in it.  His fear went away slightly with the touch of the object and as he observed her smile at him.

She cocked her head as she noticed his right hand, “What’s that in your pocket? As soon as you started stroking it, you seemed to relax.”

"It isn't what you might think." He smiled at her while withdrawing the large knife from his pocket, snapping it open.  Holding it for her to see from across the room, he watched her smile, which put him more at ease. Most people would have stepped back in fear, or in judgement.

"Well, that isn't what I expected."  She studied it.  "I don't think I've ever seen a folding knife made like that one before."

"It is a very old knife." He closed it and put it back into the concealed pocket.  He wondered why he had shown it to her.

"Nice blade." She glanced at the hourglass with the sand flowing through it.  "Would you mind if I closed the outer door?  This area isn’t the best and I feel more secure with it closed.”

"Sure, that would be fine." A large metal door slid across the glass door to the office.  He jumped when the heavy bolts locked.  The sound made him feel trapped, and he didn't like the sensation.  The structure of the door made him feel like it was meant to keep people in, rather than out.

"There, now no one will bother us. You can relax a little more."  She tapped the stylist upon the desk top viewer as it showed more tools on him.  "I can't let you go in Dr. Kenneth’s office with any weapons on.  Why not give them to me?  I will keep them here safe in the drawer."

He studied the woman more while approaching her.  Realizing just how big the desk and chair were made the room seem weird.  His sheathed bowie knife was first; he placed it on the desk before her.  Then he began to remove the other blades he carried.

When he began to pull other weapons from other concealed places, she was amazed. “Why do you carry so many weapons on you?  What are you afraid of?”

"I'm not really sure."  He watched her place the weapons into the drawer.  "It started with one knife when I was only seven and has progressed.  I carry them for protection.  Yet, I know they would be useless in a fight against that which haunts me.”

She observed his body relax and his eyes drop, a look of submission, with his disarmament.  Closing the drawer, she heard him start to speak and then hold his tongue.  She studied his appearance. It was as if she had taken his life and placed it into that drawer.  "Relax; no one can get us in this place.  You are safe."

He looked at her raven black hair, dark brown eyes and her lightly tanned skin tone. He began to see her differently.  Her build was powerful but graceful and very feminine.  He could almost remember seeing her before.  "What is your name?"

"You may call me, Nara." She smiled at him warmly while pulling open another drawer and withdrawing a small metal stick from it.

"Nara Kenneth?" Upon seeing the metal stick, memories and confusion flooded over him.  His breathing increased and made him dizzy.  His mind flooded with images and events that he had prayed weren't true.  "No…Please, no."

"I know more about you than even you realize 148-11." She stood up and smiled at him.  "You've been mine for a long time in your dreams.  I've trained you well for normal tasks."

"You're her, but your hair is different.  You can't be." He watched this woman stand up, towering over him, forcing him to look up.  Her full height made him realize how small he was to her.  Backing away slowly, he remembered everything about her from his dreams and nightmares.  He shook uncontrollably.

"Don't be frightened, little one…" She shook her head slowly.  "I won't hurt you much if you do as I wish."  She moved toward him slowly from behind the desk.  Nara noticed him glance toward the desk for his tools.  "Now, you know you can't get to those weapons of yours because that drawer is locked.  Only I can release them to you."

"This is another dream then?"  He looked up at her in defiance.  If it was a dream, he wanted it to end and pain always did it.  "I won't be your slave.  I won't serve you meals or do your household duties."  His hand moved toward the old knife.

Nara snapped the pain stick out, the end extended and crackled with power and she touched his shoulder lightly.  Watching as he jumped from it, shaking in and screaming in pain as his nerves were set off in that area as if a hammer had hit him.  He fell to his knees.  She was hurt by his remarks as much as she had hurt him.

She disliked causing pain and snapped the stick closed.  It was the main reason she wished him physically since he was old enough to know the true pleasures she might offer.  "You will do as I say.  You aren't in a dream or nightmare.  You will serve me my meals and the other menial tasks I taught you these years, if I so wish it."

She stared at him as the pain slowly vanished.  "I brought you here to protect you.  I don't wish to hurt and punish you.  All the pain I caused was to teach you.  All the lessons in your dreams, that you hated, were to make your life easier."

"This isn't a dream…"  He slowly turned his head toward as he moved to kneel before her.

"Never once could I touch you in your dreams.  I have taught you science, literature and history of your world and others but I couldn't ever touch you like this."  She leaned down and lightly kissed him on the lips.

When she broke the kiss, he looked upon her as the alien she was from his dreams.  The mildly ridged forehead with lines that came to her cheekbones, the eyes that were cat-like, all of it was as in the dreams but standing real before him.  The knowledge of this shook his foundations of belief in reality.  He trembled.

"What do you wish of me this time, Mistress?" He didn't dare to glance up at her now.  She had haunted his dreams for seven years but she had never touched him until that kiss.  The nightmares she had given him as punishment had been worse than anything real.

She was real.  Her powerful presence was indescribable.  This wasn't nighttime, it was daylight and reality by the pain that hadn't awoke him.  She was a nightmare turned real.  He reached to his side.  The comfort of the old knife was still there concealed.  When she held out her hand, he shuddered.  The hourglass was empty showing that the time had passed.  His appointment had begun with this alien who stood before him, the Mistress of his dreams and nightmares.

"I wanted to take my pet home." She softly laughed.  "We are going to see just how much you love your Mistress and how much pleasure you can stand instead of pain and .  First, the old knife, please."  She snapped the pain stick out, the end extended and crackled with power and she witnessed him jump.  As he placed the knife into her hand, she noticed tears on his face.  She was going to enjoy having him physically now as her pet.  "There is nothing to cry over.  You will be loved and cared for by me."

She snapped the stick closed again.  "I know I've only visited you in your dreams before but you are physically with me now. Things will be very different for you.  Shall we being with your clothes…"

I hope you enjoyed the story.  You can let your mind image just what else she might wish from him with that pain stick of hers.