The Illuminated
Chapter III
What were dreams, really? Random neurons stitching together scraps of memory – or brief visits to somewhere else entirely?
At the moment, Adam didn’t give a shit. All he knew was that he was trapped in a horrible one.
Rain poured in the dark alley. The hazy neon light of nearby signs reflected off large puddles. A strong smell of wet asphalt filled Adam’s nose as he observed his surroundings. Soaked cardboard was draped against a green rusted-out dumpster to his right. The persistent drumming of the rain on the dumpster’s lid echoed down the narrow street.
At the end of the alleyway, a door opened, with brilliant white light spilling from its threshold. A small silhouetted figure appeared there, two pigtails resting on a tiny head.
“Daddy?”
Adam’s vision was blurred from the downpour. To his frustration, he wasn’t able to wipe his face or shield his vision.
“Chloe?”
“Daddy? I can’t see you.”
“I’m here. I’m coming.”
Adam began to jog down the alleyway, nearly tripping on a paint can that he sent banging into the brick wall. He felt like he was moving through molasses.
“Daddy, I’m cold. It’s cold out here, Daddy.” Chloe’s voice echoed.
The walls of the alley seemed to grow taller, the distance between Adam and the doorway stretching with every step. Adam stopped, disoriented.
The doorway the small silhouette was standing in grew taller, wider. A dark red hue began to bleed into the bright white light.
Adam felt like he was being watched. The uncomfortable feeling of eyes on him from all directions. He looked up and could see what appeared to be a dark figure standing on the rooftop to his right.
Lightning flashed, but no thunder followed. The brief illumination revealed more dark figures lining the rooftops.
Adam’s breathing quickened, his eyes darting back to his daughter in the doorway.
The light of the door now had a deep red tint, and a thick rolling fog began to crawl its way out of the door and along the black asphalt.
“I don’t like it here, Daddy. I want to go home.”
Adam opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
He moved sluggishly through the now-jagged corridor, his heart pounding against his ribs. Each footstep took him further from his destination. It felt as if he were being pulled backwards by a rope.
Adam frantically turned his head and, with perfect clarity, could see the figure of a woman at the opposite end of the alley. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, radiating a pearlescent aura around her head. Frost-blue eyes held him, making him feel deeply uncomfortable – it felt as if this woman knew him.
Adam turned his attention back to the darkened end of the alley, where the red doorway loomed, the shadow of his daughter hadn’t moved an inch. He could still feel the eyes on him from above, but a deep internal terror kept him from looking at them.
A figure darker than the alley itself appeared beside his daughter, its shape so absolute that Adam’s eyes struggled to hold it.
Adam sluggishly reached out a hand. He tried to yell out to her.
“It’s cold, Daddy. So cold.” Chloe’s voice began to distort.
The figure placed long, curling fingers on top of Chloe’s head, her pigtails disappearing into the silhouette.
A dread unlike anything Adam had ever experienced consumed him as the doorway began to shrink.
Adam felt a rage build within his belly, and with a final attempt, he pushed it out of his mouth with all of his might – a shout breaking the silence, shattering the world around him.
In an instant, it was gone.
Adam stood in a lush field of tall green grass. Warmth,strange and sudden, from the light of a sun that he could not see enveloped him. In front of him was a rolling hill, with a brilliant white building of marble perched on top of it. The building sat upon a cliffside, with an endless sea of light below.
Adam slowly spun, a dirt pathway to his right, cutting its way to the top of the hill. A field of colorful flowers and grass danced in the crisp breeze behind him.
Chloe… he thought.
A warmth filled his chest, washing through his body.
He glanced to the top of the hill, where the building of marble sat, glistening in the light.
A woman – the same woman – stood next to the large wooden doorway, watching Adam.
Hair so blonde, piercing blue eyes… Adam’s heart sank.
She wore a black kimono of silk with intricate gold accents. She was so far, yet he could see her mouth moving. How could he see her mouth moving?
He could not hear her, and he could not make out what she was saying. He slowly walked closer, squinting. The woman’s mouth was moving, repeating something, over and over.
Wake… up?
Wake up…
Wake up.
Adam did not understand. Wake up from what?
“WAKE UP, ADAM.” The voice tore through him, its vibration splintering the world around him.
His eyes opened.
He was in his room, but something was not right.
His entire body was vibrating. The vibrations pulsated through him, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.
He could not move. He could not speak.
Fear overtook Adam, his wide eyes darting to the right. The woman of black and gold stood beside him, her hands hovered above his chest, palms facing down. She began to lift them. The vibrations became violent, surging through him until it felt as though every atom in his body might break free. A deafening roar thundered from inside his head. Adam felt as if he were being yanked up and out of his body, but a resistance like a powerful magnet held him in place.
He tried to scream.
Adam’s eyes snapped open. His body was covered in sweat. Beside him, Sam breathed softly. He could move. He could think.
What the fuck was that?
If you made it this far, you’re either completely lost or curious enough to keep going. Either way, thank you for taking the time to read what I’ve put together.
I’m incredibly excited about this project, and I would genuinely love to hear any feedback you may have. Feel free to reach out through the contact page or email me directly at kadams119@gmail.com.
My only small ask: if you enjoyed the opening chapters, please help me spread the word by sharing them with any friends or family members who love to read.
Many thanks,
Kyle Adams
Kyle Adams Writes | The Illuminated 