Emily could not understand why she felt tired all the time. If it had anything to do with the difference in pressure between what her body was used to in the cities and the West coast, then surely her body would have adapted by now. Maybe she had more things going on in her subconscious mind than she imagined. She lay in bed while aimlessly paging through one of her English-prescribed books and wondered why the Department of Education would punish children like this. There were hundreds of better books out there with much deeper meanings. Soon her eyes grew heavy. She placed the book on the carpet next to her and switched off her bed lamp. It was not long before she found herself on the hill where the Viking structure had been burned down.
Emily was drifting, flying inches above the ground. The wind was rattling through the tall grass. The ocean shifted far below with an occasional powerful clash where the Atlantic waves met some large rock structures. Emily felt her heart sink with sadness. The Vikings were gone. The hill was gravely quiet. She halted at the Viking fort. Only ashes remained with large boulders scattered randomly, boulders that had been the thick walls of the fort once upon a time. The fury of the fire even destroyed the cement-like sand that held the great structure intact. Emily knew that no fire was capable of such destruction. The fire that burned here was summoned from hell.
In the distance, Emily could see a person sitting on the ground. Although she could not see his face, he seemed familiar. As she moved closer, she recognised him. It was Patrick. He was sitting on his knees at the edge of the Viking grave, the hole they had dug just before they were extinguished. There was a light around him radiating from his chest. His head was bowed in sadness. He gently rocked back and forth, like a mother rocking a baby to sleep. Emily could see his wet cheeks and she knew that he had been weeping. She reached out to touch him, but he was not in flesh. Her hand passed through his non-material body.
'Patrick,' she said, almost whispering, but he did not respond. Instead, he continued rocking.
Another light protruded from the grave. Gently it started merging with the light radiating from Patrick's chest until they were one. The light seemed to be growing in intensity until it was a brilliant white light, almost too sharp for Emily's eyes to bear. She squinted trying to block out most of it while searching for Patrick inside. A wind erupted rapidly intensifying in density, swirling around them. Emily felt a chill on her skin, not the normal cold of winter, but the chill one would feel when evil was near.
'Patrick,' Emily called, desperately. She started searching for him in the fusion of chaos. She heard laughter as well as battle sounds. Metal against metal. It grew steadily and soon it was accompanied by high-pitched demonic sounds that Emily could not make out. The wind grew stronger still. Soon it was swirling around her like a tornado. She needed to find Patrick and leave before the storm got out of control. They needed to find shelter. 'Patrick!'
Emily moved away from the core of the swirling fusion when she noticed demonic entities trying to claw their way in. The white light seemed to be a shield of protection. She could hear them screaming in their high-pitched sounds. Their faces changed from human to something supernatural in a series of seconds. Occasionally their faces changed to long figures with black pits for eyes and large mouths. Their sharp nails desperately tried to pierce the veil of protection which was wearing thinner by the moment.
'Emily,' she heard Patrick's distant voice behind her. When Emily turned around she was shocked to see Patrick's face inches from hers. His skin was pale white and filled with terror.
'Run,' Patrick shouted with a low voice almost coarse and dry. His eyes were big and swollen as if possessed. 'They're coming, run.'
Emily noticed the blood stains on Patrick's white shirt. He seemed far bigger than she remembered. His chest was broad and muscular. His arms and legs were like tree logs. Emily was confused by the sudden evolution of her brother, but she sensed some urgency in his voice, coupled with rage and terror. She turned around and run as fast as she could. As she exited the shield, she could see black energy balls floating above the ground, searching. There were far over a hundred as they furiously attacked the white light protecting Patrick. Emily ran away from the madness until she reached the top of the hill. She paused and looked back over her shoulder panting. She could see a mighty battle between good and evil. In this case, good was heavily outnumbered by evil. More demons gathered outside the shield. What were they after and why was Patrick in her dream? Why was he crying and why was he standing at the Viking's grave? None of it made sense. That was when she noticed something unexpected.
The bright light was absorbed by Patrick's body in a matter of seconds. Shards of light spiked through his body. The demons became reluctant to attack. Patrick seemed different from what Emily remembered. The transformation from the old Patrick she knew to the beats he had become was hard to believe. He was much taller. His neck was almost as thick as his legs. His vengeful face was a fierce mask with large bone structures. He regarded the demons surrounding him. He looked up to the sky and clapped his hands. A wave of white energy exploded from his body in a circle formation travelling outwards. The demons were dissolved and absorbed whenever they touched the light. The light was growing stronger as it devoured the demons. Only a few demons escaped the energy field and fled in all directions, screaming in high-pitched tones. The light continued to grow stronger until it exploded into a blinding blaze, sending shock waves through the land and shaking the earth. The few demons that escaped, were swept away with the strong vibrations, destroying all the dark energies. It was silent once more. Dust started to settle across the land when Patrick emerged from the haze. His body was back to normal, but he seemed tired and almost depleted of all energy. The madness got the better of him and he fell to his knees, exhausted. Like speckles of light being blown by the wind, his body started fading slowly, until he was gone.
Emily woke up confused. Her pyjamas were drenched with perspiration. She suppressed the urge to go to Patrick's room and tell him about her dream while it was fresh in her memory. She knew it was no ordinary dream. What if tomorrow was too late? It was a dream she would not be able to erase from her memory. She remembered being told once that dreams bore meanings from other dimensions. The subconscious mind was merely the gateway, but what they failed to tell her was how to interpret dreams. Despite the meaning of her dream, Emily wondered why she kept returning to the same place every time. It never happened before. What did Patrick have to do with her dreams in any case?