A Blinding Light at the End of My Nightmare

Prompt: Write a story about someone confronting their worst nightmare.

A Blinding Light at the End of My Nightmare

“Eddie, it’s bedtime,” momma would shout at me shaking me out of my intense focus as I stared at the television set.  She would add, “I don’t know why I let you watch those shows. You only end up peeing in your bed because of your nightmares.”  Feeling embarrassed in front of my older sister, I would respond in self-defense, “You would get the heebie jeebies from Alfred Hitchcock too!  Momma, he is the master and hero of all that is dark and sinister.” She would not have any of it from a ten-year-old. “Eddie enough of your mouth! Get to bed!” And that was the end of our discussion until tomorrow night.

Reluctantly, I trudged upstairs to my bedroom. I had my normal ritual for going to bed. No, it was not brushing my teeth or washing my face. I would search every corner of my room looking for suspicious evidence that creatures were patiently hiding for their next meal---me! Once I canvased every nook and cranny, I would slither under my covers imagining that it represented a force field from all supernatural beings and beasts.  Feeling some assurance that I was safe, I would drift off to a light sleep.  A scraping branch against the house, a creaking pipe, a howling wind, or murmuring voices would be enough to rustle me out of my delicate slumber. I would wake with a start and repeat my ritual. Then for the rest of the night fall in and out of sleep.  I figured a gruesome beast must have taunted me because unfortunately, it was very damp between my sheets when I awoke in the morning.

Like any other morning my sister would offer up her compliments. “You look like hell Eddie! Did you wake up in the jaws of a monster this morning? Did you have to swim out of your bed?” I turned to her with a sardonic grin saying, “Be careful or my swamp monster might swim in your bed some night.” She looked at me with disgust saying, “Eddie you are so revolting.” My breakfast then proceeded without interruption. However, this morning would be different.

After my sister left for school, my parents decided to have a heart-to-heart talk about my viewing and sleeping habits. They had planned this out well because no counter argument I mustered up would change their plans about my immediate future. I understand parents want the best for their children, but I felt they were overstepping their bounds by compelling me to see a psychiatrist about my eh, problem; my incontinence problem. At least that was what I thought it would be about.

The ruse to see a psychiatrist was not for incontinence but for treatment of my obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and insomnia. Apparently my parents were keenly aware of my behavior at night. I was not aware the behaviors manifested themselves during daytime at school.  My teachers were decidedly concerned requesting my parents to intervene and find treatment for my disorders. 

My psychiatrist was empathetic to my interests and actually encouraged me to continue in my pursuit of thriller, scary, shock movies, games, and activities. He was so impressed that I could nearly remember all of my dreams, especially the nightmares. Nonetheless, he prescribed some medication to help tone down the OCD tendencies. His counseling therapy helped me to focus on self-control and restraint of successive, redundant behaviors. Some medicinal assistance also helped with the quality of my sleep and significantly reduced the incidence of my incontinence and snarky comments from my sister in the mornings.

As the years passed, I was better. I felt rejuvenated.  I was able to manage my thoughts and actions even when I immersed myself in my hobby of collecting horror movies, stories, and the like.  My dreaming remained vivid; occasionally, I would wake during the night in a cold sweat. No night terrors. No hysterical yelping at night. Some of my dreams I would not remember the next day. Nonetheless, there were a few dreams over the years that plagued me. Most were insanely comically like an elephant falling out a skyscraper window landing directly on top of me.  Another version had an upright piano doing the same thing. Still other crazy times had killer cows or piranha fish walking on land stalking humans.

Nightmares with zombies, ghosts or ghouls did not upset me. What was extremely disturbing to me was not knowing the source of the terror or evil. One such time the gruesome source was found in a howling wind which would transform itself into an array of terrifying beings, creatures and non-descript things like a smothering ooze.  I questioned why this malady of nightmares sill plagued me.  It was after such reflection on my condition I decided to make good use of this nocturnal problem.  I focused my career on writing horror stories, potential movies, frightening, dramatic plays. I became so good at my skills I had the audacity to self-publish several stories. To my amazement, a producer in Hollywood got a hold of one of my published stories. Before I realized it, I had a smash horror hit on the big screen and a job creating, writing, and directing all kinds of media horror.  I had made it to the big time! Blinding lights flashed all around me as cameras captured my profile at my film premiers. My fiendish ideas were making a huge success and making me rich.

I was still actively struggling with my insomnia despite my success.  A deep sleep was rare for me. I shrugged it off as a consequence of the pressures of Hollywood and being recently married to a harlot of a wife. I shared with my therapist about how gruesome and sinister my nightmares had become. Yet, I justified those nightmares by citing how they were good “fodder” for my films and future ventures. I remained undaunted as I counted my gold; my career was literally driving me mad with ghoulish creativity.  After all, they were just dreams; maybe bad ones, but just dreams.  They would remain in an ethereal state of mind until I gave them “life.”

Already the holidays were knocking at the door. In Hollywood one determines the seasons by the store front displays on Rodeo Drive and Melrose Avenue. Christmas was a mere month away. I was hoping this year the holidays would provide a peaceful respite from the hustle and bustle of shopping, my dreams, and all else. I was looking forward to the splendor of the season, bringing me some peace and much needed rest from my constant night terrors. A few friends tried to coax me to attend church services to aid in my recovery. I declined. Churchy stuff was just not on my agenda this or any holiday season.

With the house decked out in a few feeble decorations and no annoying carolers singing at my door, I decided to cozy up in my recliner for a peaceful nap, or so I thought.  All of the pressure of my job and the haunting dreams had taken its toll on my body. I fell asleep instantly.

I am not sure how much time had passed, but I awoke to a strong smell of sulfur followed with a blast of very hot air.  I felt something was wrong as I rose from my recliner. At first, I thought it might be a fire, but my immediate surroundings were strangely altered. Any light in the room quickly faded. It was nearly pitch black.

A pinpoint of light emerged from a distance. It grew larger as it advanced toward me. Strangely the light spoke to me. “From the day you entered this world and now to your grave your soul has been marked for me. This is the beginning of eternity for you. You are now my child of the darkness. You are now a prisoner in my realm of depravity, defeat, and despair. Your soul is a good fit because of your perverted thoughts and sinister desires of your corrupted heart.”

I was stunned. I stammered out a question at the light. “Who are you and why are you visiting me?” I heard clattering noises and voices in the background. The light said, “I have several names. I am known as the Day Star, the Morning Star, Lucifer.” In a bellowing, prideful voice it said, “I am the Accuser.” Instantaneously, a terrifying dragon appeared hissing fire and sulfurous acid as it spoke these words, “I am Satan, the Deceiver and Devourer of the whole universe.” I was incredulous and could not speak. The dragon continued on. “I am here because it has been your desire to delve deeper into all things purely evil and wicked.  Ever since you were a child you set your things on devilish, depraved images. I filled your mind with them, but you were never satisfied always wanting more and more to fill up your lustful yearning for the macabre.   You became successful at using my craft of malevolence in this world. Now it is time for you to repay me for all that I have given you.”

I frantically looked for a way out. There was none. With a trembling voice I said, “I never asked for this. Since I was a child, my nights have been filled with extreme anxiety and insomnia. You made my life a living hell.” Satan quickly responded, “My boy, my foolish boy that is exactly the point. Your fascination with wickedness and death have preoccupied your mind through your entire, pitiful life. I just gave you what you wanted; a living hell. You devalue human life with wretchedness and contempt by the monstrosities you have created. That is what your heart desires.” Satan chuckled through his explanation. He showed me a vision of human faces etched in despair. I heard voices crying out in blood curdling wailing; there was incessant gnashing of teeth. Flames engulfed the disembodied faces.  Roaring conflagrations of intense fire and heat spewed from the vision causing me to fall back.  I was mortified and overcome with great fear.

Satan spoke again with confidence. “You are trapped by your earthly desires. There is no way out. My final gift is for you to capture the misery, hopelessness, and utter terror of hell in your next earthly venture. After that your soul belongs to me in the everlasting fires of hell.”

In protest I declared, “Oh my God in heaven! No way on God’s green earth do I plan to spend eternity with you, you ghastly vermin of mankind!” At the mention of God, Satan cringed. He vehemently argued, “I took care of Him 2000 years ago. I made sure He was dead this self-proclaimed prophet called the Christ who called Himself God. He healed pathetic people, but He could not save Himself from a cross of death. I won and now I am the victor of everything. My realm is full of the shadowy souls of despicable and evil men and women, believers and nonbelievers of this so-called God.”

I saw in that moment Satan trembling and doubting his words. That lapse gave me a moment to remember something from my childhood and the Christmases I had with my family. My momma would recount the birth of Jesus, the Christ in Bethlehem. She reminded me of my baptism of water into the community of believers in Christ. I remembered the peace and joy I received. That was a time when I had no nightmares, no night terrors.  

These memories made me feel stronger. In my boldness being filled with the Spirit, I proclaimed to Satan, “Regardless of my sordid past and sinful actions, you, Satan, have no claim on my soul! Your lies and indictments are not binding because Jesus, the Christ, came to your insidious place to proclaim His victory over you! ‘Where O death is your victory, O death where is your sting?’”

Satan cowered at my words. I continued with amazing fortitude. “I believe in God the Father, maker of heaven and earth.  I believe in Jesus, the Christ who suffered, died, and rose again for my sins. You, Satan are a liar and the Truth is not in you. You are damned, but I am not because the Christ has forgiven me of my iniquities and wretchedness.” The Christ is my way out of this nightmare! Begone Satan in the name of Jesus!

A thunderous rage poured out like earthquakes, volcanoes and raging storms, simultaneously erupting from the Evil One. Instantly Satan departed and this frightening nightmare ended. In his wake, a blinding light emerged.  I peered at the light. I saw a star hovering above a man and woman gathered at a crib of straw. In that crib I saw a baby wrapped in cloth. And the space around me was illuminated with an incredible light. A great peace descended upon me releasing me of my terrorizing night afflictions.

May your dreams be filled with joy and peace of the baby whose dream became reality to save man from himself.

There were shepherds living out in the fields nearby. It was night, and they were taking care of their sheep.  An angel of the Lord appeared to them. And the glory of the Lord shone around them. They were terrified.  But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news. It will bring great joy for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you. He is the Messiah, the Lord. Here is how you will know I am telling you the truth. You will find a baby wrapped in strips of cloth and lying in a manger.”

 Suddenly a large group of angels from heaven also appeared. They were praising God. They said,

“May glory be given to God in the highest heaven!

    And may peace be given to those he is pleased with on earth!”

(Luke 2: 8-14, New International Reader’s Version)

Author: Pete Gautchier

Acknowledgement: Reedsy.com