Just a Dream... Right?

I’m running.

I know, a little Forrest Gump, but I’m literally running. Except I’m not getting anywhere. My legs are like lead, and I can’t seem to move them fast enough. I’m tired, so tired… behind me, there’s a dark figure following me. I’m terrified, the scenery around me growing darker. I slow to a walk, because running clearly isn’t working. I’m not short of breath, but the sense of pure fear is crippling my lungs, the air thinning around me.

Suddenly, a pair of hands close around my throat, and I start to scream, but the air is too thin and I don’t make any sound. My attacker turns me around, and I look straight into the eyes of a bearded man with piercing blue eyes, tall with dark hair. He plunges a knife straight into my chest, still strangling me. I’m not going to survive this! I’m dying! I’M DYING! I can feel the blood running from my chest, hot liquid spilling out. As the blood seeps away, I feel my life ebb away.

The last thing I see are those piercing blue eyes as the darkness envelopes me… blissful darkness…  

“Bea! BEA! WAKE UP!”

Bea’s eyes flew open. She was paralysed with fear, still dreaming even though her eyes were wide open, her mouth agape in a silent scream. Samuel slapped her hard across the face, and Bea woke up properly, her scream no longer silent but long and piercing. Samuel held her tight.

“GERROFF ME! GERROFF!” Bea struggled, but Samuel held her fast. “Oh – Sam – Sam!”

“It’s alright, I’ve got you… what happened?! You were dreaming weird!”

“I was having a nightmare!” Bea’s hands pushed Samuel away and flew to her chest, checking for the deep stab wound that clearly isn’t there. “He stabbed me… he… he strangled me and stabbed me and it was so real…”

“Jeez, Bea, I don’t think you should eat marshmallows before bed again…”

“I can still see his face…” Bea realised her hands shook. Samuel gave her a sympathetic look.

“Well, you’re safe now. I’ve made you some coffee. Oh – and I’m not here for dinner tonight, remember? James is back and we’re going on a date to say hello again.” Samuel gave a demure smile.

“Oh… sweet. Yeah, I remember.” Bea nodded. “So will you be staying with him? Are you moving back in with him?” She swung her legs out of her bed and climbed to her feet. Samuel accompanied her to the kitchen of their shared home. Their third housemate, Rebecca, was away for two weeks to see her parents.

“Nah, not yet. We’ve decided to take things slow. And I’m alright with that after the fucking debacle with Stephen.” Samuel shuddered. “Never again will I rush into a house with someone.”

“Fair enough. And we don’t speak about Stephen, remember? Arsehole, he was.” Bea picked up her coffee and added her fixings – a shot of caramel syrup, a swirl of whipped cream, some chocolate shavings, and an additional swirl of cream for good measure.

“Diabetes in a cup, much?” Samuel smirked.

“I deserve it after the nightmare I had.” Bea closed her eyes.

“You were really screaming. It was crazy. Then you just sort of… stopped.” Samuel shrugged. “I couldn’t wake you.”

“I can still see his face, Sam. He looked Nordic – kind of like Pewdiepie? He had this neat beard, piercing blue eyes, and styled hair – it was, like, dark brown, shiny. Like this.” She made a gesture with her hand to show a quaffed, slicked-back style. “I mean, he was gorgeous, I guess, but the fear I felt… Sam, I’ve never been that afraid of anyone.”

“Bea, it was just a dream.”

“I know, but I died!” Bea sipped her coffee. Her nerves were shot. Even the soothing caffeine did little to stop her shaking hands. It just made her tired, but fast.

“Well, you need to get ready for work, anyway. It’s late enough as it is.”

“Eh, I’ve flexitime.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Bea spent a little longer getting ready than she usually would that morning. Not because she was so afraid to leave her house… well, that was the only reason, actually. As she’d brushed her teeth and done her hair and applied some make-up, more details about the man in her nightmare had crept back to her.

He’d been wearing a black hoodie, with a  white shirt beneath it.

He’d been taller, around six feet tall, with long, strong legs, and strength enough in one hand to crush her windpipe.

He’d had a rugged look to him, a neatly-kept beard, and if he hadn’t been stabbing her straight through her heart, she’d have probably enjoyed being choked out like that by him.

She’d been walking down her street, and it had been light outside.

Basically, Bea didn’t want to leave the house knowing that this man could well be out there! What was it – the nightmare? Was it a warning from her angels? Was it a premonition, like Final Destination? Was it a future prophecy? Bea took her time pulling her coat on. She couldn’t leave it any longer. She darted from the house and legged it along the road towards her car. She couldn’t get strangled and stabbed to death if she didn’t walk down her full street…

“Hello, I’m Scott Thomas. I’ve a meeting with Beatrice Parker at half past nine.”

“Mr Thomas… yes, you’re here. Perfect. Here’s a visitor pass, can you sign here for me?”

“Great, thanks.” Scott picked up a pen and signed his name for his pass. Behind him, a woman entered, looking a little worse for wear. He smelled her perfume before anything else, and it made his heart race. He’d smelled that exact perfume in his dream that night. He’d been on his usual morning run, and a sweet lady had been sitting on a park bench, engrossed in a book. He’d sat beside her, and her perfume… it had been perfect. The girl had no face, but she did keep mentioning bees.

“Miss Parker? Your half past nine appointment is here!” the secretary called. The woman didn’t look up. Scott seemed perplexed, but assumed Miss Parker must be Very Busy to have Not Heard Her Name. She must also be Very Important, and therefore Not Disturbed. “She’s usually quite busy in the mornings, Mr Thomas. Please, go right on up to the fifth floor, someone will be waiting for you.”

“Thanks.”

Scott did as he was told. He sat in a small waiting room while a more personal company-hired receptionist prepared a coffee for him. He’d then been called through to the board room, for his consultation interview.

“Good morning, Mr Thomas – we’re just waiting for Miss Parker, she’s a little late this morning.” Brian Townsend, the company’s director, offered Scott a seat.

“Sorry I’m late! Sorry, I ran into some traffic, and then I found –“ the same lady from before walked into the board room, and froze mid-sentence, her mouth agape, pure fear written across her face.

“Miss Parker? Is there a problem?” asked Brian, when Bea didn’t make any attempt to move.

“I… I’m sorry…”

“That’s… quite alright… Beatrice? Please sit down?” Brian’s voice was gentle. Bea did as she was told, and sat. “This is Mr Scott Thomas, he’s here to interview.”

“Right… yes,” said Bea faintly. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr Thomas.”

“Likewise, Miss Parker.”

Bea’s world started collapsing. How was he here?! The man who’d strangled her and stabbed her?! Her killer?! His eyes – it was the eyes! His entire face was exactly the same, but his eyes… she stumbled over her questions, fumbled some of the information, and by the end of it, Mr Thomas had the same bemused expression on his face that he’d had when he’d held her as she died. Everything about him scared her – when he offered her his hand to say goodbye when the interview was over, Bea reacted like he’d pointed a knife at her. This confused Scott no end – why was she so jumpy? Still, Brian liked him enough to offer him the job then and there.

“Just promise me one thing, Mr Thomas,” Bea said quietly, when Brian had left them both alone. “Please don’t strangle me and stab me to death.”

“I… am ninety percent sure I’m missing something.” Scott picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“No, no… I just had a nightmare is all, and you are the exact look of the man who strangled me and stabbed me to death. If it’s a warning about us hiring you, then please reconsider strangling me and stabbing me… I’ll happily let you go in the future.”

“Damn it,” Scott said, playing along. She was tired, he could tell. But she was funny and sweet. “So I suppose a welcome drink tonight is off-limits, then? Make it up to you for killing you so brutally?”

“Normally I’d say yes,” Beatrice mused. “But I can’t trust that you won’t try to slip poison in my drink, and I don’t date co-workers.”

“Fair enough.” Scott smiled at her. “Maybe I was killing a part of you that doesn’t have a purpose anymore. Dreams and nightmares can be weird like that.” Beatrice found herself flushing under his gaze. She looked away and cleared her throat.

“You should perhaps go home and prepare for tomorrow. We’ve a team meeting at nine and I want you there.” She squared her shoulders, and nodded at him