Nightmare

After Christmas, people always had to call those they couldn't get together with. Unfortunately, the only person I could call was Ash.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up. He seemed badly hungover, his speech groggy, but it still carried his distinctive humor and easygoing air.

"How was your Christmas?" I enunciated clearly to make sure he could hear me. I had even deliberately chosen a time close to noon.

"Me? Same as always. Cigarettes, fine wine, beautiful women... my constant companions." His tongue was thick, and he seemed to be rubbing his face, his voice heavily nasal.

I had reason to suspect that the party he'd attended hadn't been the family kind.

"Honestly, if this hangover hadn't nailed me to the couch, I'd be tearing down the highway right now-with freshly baked cinnamon rolls crammed into the passenger seat, of course." He seemed a little more awake. Despite having just woken up, he still let out a long yawn.

"Then slam on the brakes and send everything flying?" I asked with a laugh.

He roared with laughter and let out a boozy burp. "All right, all right, enough shooting the breeze. I've got to raid the fridge for some hangover soup-hopefully I didn't give the last slice of pizza to the stray cat downstairs as a Christmas present last night."

He muttered all this without hanging up.

Rustling came over the line, and his voice grew a little clearer. "How have you been?"

"Pretty good..."

He beat me to it and said the words before I could.

"Pretty good, right? Thought so." He chuckled twice.

"About half a year ago, I kept thinking you'd gone crazy. Either that, or something had bewitched you. Those things have endless tricks for that, after all. And that's why I never fully retired from this 'hell' of a job, why I kept driving my baby around. I thought... sooner or later, I'd have to fish you out."

Honestly, I was pretty surprised. In our earlier conversations, I'd heard about him returning to his hometown to help build it up, then listened to him grumble about his alcoholic father, who was always stealing his girlfriends.

After that, he'd gone with his two teammates to what he called his dream destination, with the occasional thrilling clash with demons along the way. I had never heard anything in his words or his tone that suggested... he had such complicated thoughts.

He continued, "First of all, you started laughing. And I don't mean that capitalist's fake smile, like some possessed vintage doll for sale at a flea market... real laughter. Relaxed laughter."

"Or maybe we really just hadn't spent that much time together. Can you believe it? In all those months, I never once felt like you were laughing."

"Then there's the fact that you actually joke around with me now. Sometimes you can even keep up with a few of my golden jokes. That's the biggest improvement, seriously. You're a lot more human than before," he teased.

"So I dropped the idea. I can feel that you're doing well. Not pretending, not just putting on a show, but from the inside out."

"If staying beside that guy who looks like a serial killer, but is actually a big lug in a hockey mask who has absolutely nothing to do with hockey apart from the mask, makes you feel better..."

"...Anyway-wish you happiness, brother."

After saying that, he even shuddered. "Nope, too mushy. I still can't do this stuff. I'm seriously starving. I've barely eaten anything since noon yesterday. Hmm... pizza? I want-I'm starving to death. Order double sausage... Luo Ya, bye."

With that, he hung up.

Happiness?

I turned to look at Jason, who had laid down a sheet of waterproof tarp and was busily cutting up a buck. He had already made me those gloves from the softest fur.

My past had shaped my personality, and my present experiences were still changing me.

Winter here came quickly and went just as fast. Spring chased in on the heels of the last little patch of winter snow, and after I argued my case, Jason finally agreed to accompany me into the forest for a look around.

It had been so long since I'd gone out that suddenly coming here felt like entering a new world. I was a little curious about everything.

Spring here brimmed with life. Jason also took me to the cabin. He seemed to have made it a temporary resting spot, and he had nailed the collapsed half back together. He even showed me his homemade fishing gear, which had brought in quite a haul.

Once the weather warmed up, Jason no longer had to keep busy gathering firewood. With no work to do, he clung to me and kept getting underfoot, so I simply got him some seeds and sent him off to plant around the house. Jason took it all without complaint, working hard to clear a large patch of land.

As for me, I made a big pitcher of sweet fruit tea with ice, set my lounge chair in the shade, and watched Jason work in the field.

Although Jason had a normal human body temperature, he didn't experience temperature like one. With the sun blazing overhead, even standing still doing nothing felt hot. Jason worked away tirelessly, never slacking, like an old ox, yet he didn't sweat at all.

He wore loose denim pants with the cuffs tucked into nylon boots, and a baggy white tank top. The muscles on his body were like mountains and ravines across the earth, and whenever he moved, those mountains and ravines moved with him.

He also had scars, quite a few of them. I didn't understand why he didn't erase them, but he had his own views about his body, and I respected his opinion.

Sunlight shone on him, making him gleam. He was a very pleasing sight. I narrowed my eyes. No reason not to look.

The soil wasn't very good. Stones of every size had been stacked one by one into a huge pile, and later he would also be responsible for hauling them away. For some reason, it made me think of ants. This really was one enormous ant. At the thought, I couldn't help laughing aloud.

Hearing my laughter, Jason straightened up and pulled off his gloves as he walked toward me. He gave me a hug, but he was covered in dust. I deftly avoided him and turned to pour him a glass of iced fruit tea.

After a few sips, he put his gloves back on and returned to work. Now he was planting the little potatoes I'd specifically requested.

Keep at it, darling.

Jason had no particular talent for farming. By autumn, all he could harvest were potatoes of varying sizes and sparse ears of corn with missing kernels. Only the patch of tomatoes I'd guided him through had grown well, and we'd already harvested several rounds. It seemed the talent lay with me.

Only a few fleeting years of this beautiful life passed before something loathsome came knocking, something like a mischievous imp, but far more destructive.

At night, on a quiet night, this thing did not travel through dimensions in the conventional sense, but followed dreams instead, allowing him to pass effortlessly through Crystal Lake's barrier.

With a crook of his finger, the dream twisted into the shape he wanted.

When I opened my eyes again, I was faced with a hospital that exuded a gray-white, inorganic quality. I woke hazily, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, and almost immediately realized where I was. I was in a hospital. Why?

I snapped fully awake. The strong smell of hospital disinfectant flooded my nose. All sorts of machines chimed around me.

I instinctively pulled out the tubes and tried to get up, only to discover that both pant legs were empty. I was even wearing a hospital gown.

My legs? What exactly had happened? Questions swirled through my mind. Where had I ended up?

Apparently alerted through the surveillance feed that I had woken up, several people in white coats entered. I narrowed my eyes and retrieved those faces from memory. They were the doctors who had treated me in the hospital after my car accident.

"Mr. Luo Ya, I'm glad you're awake. Please allow me to explain what happened. You were in a car accident and spent a full six months in a coma," he said with a smile, directing the nurses to remove the various tubes attached to me.

He paused, then continued, "I'm very sorry, but to save your life, we had to amputate your legs."

I didn't believe a word he said. My thoughts instinctively went to those devils, or the Necronomicon. And where was Jason? The doctor's eyes flashed behind his glasses. He seemed to have noticed my mental state.

Maintaining his professional smile, he told me, "You seem to have had a very long dream. According to the monitors, your brain waves have been highly active throughout. The literature indicates that some patients may regard their dreams as another life of their own, and our people will help you return to reality."

I said nothing, merely looking at him with a cold smile.

"Get out."

The doctor seemed to realize that I didn't believe him. He merely waved a hand helplessly and said to me.

"Then I'll leave you to it. If you feel unwell or need anything, please press the call button beside you, and someone will come to help. Also, your family would like to see you." With that, she led the nurses out in a large procession.

Immediately afterward, a woman with long black hair wearing a silk dress walked in. At the sight of him, my head buzzed. No matter how furious or confused I was, even though I clearly knew this wasn't reality, my real memories seemed to be fading. I recalled more... memories from before, especially with this woman's arrival.

Ignoring my expression, she tried to stroke my head affectionately as she always had, offering words of comfort and giving me a hug. But I could never ignore the look of disgust in her eyes when she saw my empty pant legs.

I couldn't accept her. When she approached, I shoved her violently to the floor. She landed on her backside with a shriek. Seemingly realizing my attitude, she no longer bothered pretending. Her expression turned cold, and she stood up briskly, brushing nonexistent dust off her clothes.

She called toward the door, "Come in."

A group of people who looked like bodyguards quickly entered, and they roughly pinned me to the hospital bed.