Page 1 of Dreamscape Therapies

Prologue

I’m sprawled across an old couch with a large bowl of popcorn balanced carefully on my stomach, watching some low-budget horror movie that has absolutely no business being this scary.

The TV crackles with static every few minutes, the connection flickering in and out.

The killer keeps appearing in impossible places. Outside one second, inside the house the next. Always breathing like a broken vacuum cleaner, loud and wet and mechanical.

Rain taps against the windows and the room is dark except for the flickering blue glow from the television.

I shovel another handful of buttery popcorn into my mouth, and as I watch the killer creep toward his next unsuspecting victim, the movie cuts to commercial.

Except…

The actors don’t disappear.

They freeze.

Every single one of them stands there, perfectly still and staring straight ahead with wide, plastic smiles.

I frown.

The commercial plays around them, cheerful music filling the room while the actors remain still as statues in the background.

Then one of them moves.

Her eyes slide slowly toward the camera.

Toward me.

Her smile still plastered in place.

“You dropped a stitch,” she whispers in a creepy sing-song voice.

My stomach drops.

The commercial ends and the movie resumes.

I blink hard, thinking it was my imagination.

The actress is running down the hallway, screaming for her life.

“What the fuck?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

Maybe I’m just tired.

Actually, no.

I’m fucking exhausted.

I’ve barely slept in weeks. At this point, I’m probably hallucinating.

I rub my eyes and look back at the screen.

The cabin has changed. Crocheted blankets cover the walls. At first, there are only a few, draped over chairs and hanging beside the fireplace. Then more appear. One over the window, another across the couch, a large one stretched across the ceiling.

They multiply between frames, thick layers of yarn spreading over everything like a fungus.

The killer drags his axe across the floor, but instead of sparks or a loud screech like I was expecting, a long strand of yarn unravels behind the blade. It keeps going and going.