NI6HTMARE

"You live in a world of repetition. Every day goes as planned, every dream the same as the night before, every thought congruent with what you perceive to be your reality; until the nightmare comes. I am that nightmare."

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Those words still haunt me since last night when I felt the cool touch of his blade against my throat. It was a hooded creature. Maybe a man, maybe a demon. I could not tell. Its voice displayed a pain I could not imagine. He was a prisoner to some fate I had yet to know, and somehow, I suspected he meant to help me. It was all a dream, but I could not shake the notion of it being a warning somehow.

The end of the dream woke me to reality the moment he slide his blade through the skin of my throat. The dream felt familiar, as if I had dreamed it before. I just don't know how. I barely remember anything about the past. I suppose that's the same with anything in a dream--you don't know how you got there, you just are.

My name is Lilly Andrews. I live in Seattle, Washington. It's rainy here almost always, but that's ok. I like the rain. Some people claim the lack of sunlight leads people who live here to depression, but not me. I love my life. I have a very attentive husband, Jim Andrews, three lovely children, and a fantastic job as a social media manager for a large event cooperation. The only thing bothering me now is just how comfortable my life really is, especially with the context of my dream from the night prior.

The words of the phantom ghost in my dream lingered in my mind as I poured myself a cup of orange juice, watching the sun peek through the morning clouds.

I squinted my eyes, contemplating the phantom's words. "You live in a world of repetition."

What does that even mean? I have quite a varied schedule. Every day comes with its own challenges and its own difficulties.

Jim's telltale footsteps alerted me to his presence. I turned around to find my husband closer than I thought. He pulled me into a hug, dropping a kiss on my forehead, then lips.

"Good morning," he greeted drowsily, even though he was completely dressed for work.

He works as a system security manager at a high profile bank.

"Hello," I returned the greeting with a smile. I spun from his grasp and picked my orange juice cup back up. "How was sleep?"

He smirked and huffed, moving toward the coffee machine, "Oh, you should know. You were beside me the whole time."

I nodded, still shaken by my dream. "Oh, thank you for reminding me. Almost forgot." I giggled.

"Hey, I'm trying for that new position today." He poured himself a mug of caffeine. "Howard requested you come in as well for a security interview. The position is gonna come with a lot responsibility so they've gotta do a background search on you and ask you a few questions. Only if you're willing to answer, of course. But, if you're not, I don't get the job." He chuckled.

"Every day goes as planned," the phantom had said after his first sentence. "Every dream the same as the night before," I don't even remember the last time I had any dreams for awhile before last night.

"Honey?" Jim, my husband, leaned one hand against the counter and sipped at his cup, staring at me expectantly.

I flicked out of my thoughts with a smile, "Ah yes, that sounds lovely. I'll have to call out of work today though."

Jim nodded, "Perfect. This position should get us to that new house we want."

"Every thought congruent with what you perceive to be your reality;" Hm, what does "congruent" mean?

I pulled out my phone and looked up the word on my dictionary.

Adjective ) 1. in agreement or harmony) "the rules may not be congruent with the requirements of the law." I smiled and nodded. That made sense.

"Alright, sweetheart, I need you to get ready to go." Jim said as he closed the front door behind him. "I'll start the car. We've got to go right now."

I clicked my phone off and set it down, rushing to our bedroom, "I'll only be a minute!" I hurried to our closet and started assembling a decent-looking outfit for an interview.

"...until the nightmare comes. I am that nightmare." Was the dream itself the nightmare or something else? I thought about what scared me as I slipped on an blue dress with hints of red sprinkled about.

Fear. What am I fearful of? Losing my job. One of the kids getting a hold of a household chemical and drinking it. Snakes. Blades. My husband cheating on me. Death, maybe? Hm, what if the phantom was death? He had a sword though. Maybe the nightmare that he brings reflects my fear of blades and death?

I would have to come back and think about this later. Right now, I needed to get to the car, reach Jim's work, and pass this interview. My husband really needed this promotion. He made a lot of money at his current position but he and I were barely scraping by with my help at the social media job. With this new position, I could focus more on our children's schooling and stress less. Life would be easier.

I hurried out the house, left a note for the kids telling them where we would be and for how long, and ducked into the passenger seat of our car.

"Let's go," I huffed, shuffling into a comfortable position under my seatbelt.

Jim smiled, jerking the car into reverse, and pulled out of our driveway, heading us to his bank. He drove us there in twenty minutes despite the traffic which I found quite impressive.

We bustled through the bank's front doors and made our way to a corridor of elevators. Jim pressed the button for the sixth floor and led me to a certain office space after we reached it.

He gestured to a seating area with a smile, "I'm going to head in and start work now. I'll notify the secretary you're here and she'll admit you to see Howard when he's ready. He should just ask his questions and send you home. If you would be so kind as to pick me up later today at five, that would be most appreciated, darling." He bent down to me with a kiss.

I returned it and smiled, "Of course. I'll see you then."

"Sounds good," he grinned at me and ducked through a door into another room.

I slid into one of the cushioned seats, set down my purse, and scanned about the workspace. Desks occupied all the corners I could spot, whether corners in the building or corners of cubicles. Ladies with glasses perched on their noses tapped into keyboards and answered phone calls from the desks. Papers, pens, and folders cluttered most the surfaces.

I suppose this work environment did not really harp on neatness. That explains Jim's untidiness at times. He always leaves his dresser in shambles.

A woman in a tight grey skirt and restrictive black blouse approached me, teetering on her heels. She smiled at me through red lipstick, "Mrs. Andrews?"

I returned her broad smile and slipped my purse back onto my shoulder, standing to follow her. "Yes, that's me."

"Hi, I'm Stella. If you'd follow me, Mr. Simmons is ready for you." She spun on one of her heels and clicked down a hall.

I followed her closely, peering through the blurry windows of the building that we passed.

Stella stopped us at a thick wooden door and knocked. I could not see into this office because there were no windows facing the interior of the building.

Must be to ensure greater security if this is an office that handles sensitive information. I wonder if my husband would end up working here if he got this position. Oh, that would be exciting. I'm sure he'd love his own private office space without prying eyes.

A masculine voice called to us from inside, "Come in,"

Stella daintily twisted the door handle and pushed the door open for me. She gestured for me to enter with another one of her vapid smiles.

I nodded my thanks to her and stepped inside. The door shut seconds after and left me standing in front of a large brown desk with nothing but the hum of an air-conditioning machine and creak of an office chair to fill the silence.

Howard Simmons, Jim's boss, rocked in his black office chair and stared at me with an expression that seemed to be surprised by my presence. His blue suit and clean, white collared shirt displayed his prestige as the bank's overseer . He suddenly sat up and motioned toward a chair directly across from his.

I smiled, "Oh, thank you," and made for the chair.

I only met Howard twice before at dinner parties thrown by the bank where my husband was invited to attend with a plus one.

I love that Jim always picks me as his plus one.

I remember both introductions to Howard Simmons being about as awkward as this meeting.

Howard cleared his throat after I seated myself. "So, Miss Andrews,"

"Mrs," I corrected gently with a smile.

I am married, after all. I did not go down that long isle for nothing, right?

Howard opened his mouth to say something but closed it, clearing his throat again. "Mrs. Andrews, your husband is applying for our vacant Chief System Security Management position, correct?"

"Yes, he is." I answered, nodding my head excitedly.

I really want him to get it.

Howard slid a folder in front of him, "Excellent. You do realize there are quite a number of people also applying for this position?"

"Mhm," I answered, "of course they would. From what Jim tells me, this is quite an enviable position in the bank."

Howard smiled politely, "Yes, it is. Pays very well. The bank is very selective with who we hire for this position. A lot of the evaluation process tests for loyalty and confidentiality."

"Of course,"

He pulled a page from the folder and set it in front of me, "If you'd go through those real fast, we can proceed."

I shifted the paper in front of me and plucked a pen from a nearby cup, skimming my eyes through each question. Many of them were informational while others addressed what I assumed to be psychological and patriotic questions. Things asking if I was a US citizen or ever held allegiance to another country outside of America, which I have not. I quickly checked through and signed the page, pushing it back to Mr. Simmons.

Howard accepted the page, "Thank you." He set the page aside and folded his hands, putting his elbows on the desk. "Do you consider yourself a woman of purpose?"

I canted my head with interest and a smile, "I would assert so. Why?"

Howard hesitated, stroking the base of his round chin, "See, by loyalty and confidentiality, we mean to us, the bank. The methods of these tests, strangely, are left to me as the executive manager. I am also in command of the final decision regarding who takes the position."

"Right,"

Mr. Simmons cleared his throat again, "Why should I choose your husband over, say, other, more desirable candidates applying for the same position?"

My eyebrows lifted with concern, "More desirable?"

Howard smiled, "Hypothetically speaking,"

"Oh," I looked up at the ceiling as a thousand different reasons flooded my brain, "well, for one thing, he's a fantastic worker. I've never seen a man work so hard. He's dedicated, loyal, and definitely has the ability to keep things confidential. I know that one very personally." I giggled, reminiscing about all the secrets I entrusted to him about myself that I never shared with anyone else.

Howard cleared his throat once more, interrupting me.

He has to be clearing his throat nervously now. It's getting rather irritating.

"So, what I mean to get at, Mrs. Andrews, is what benefits might the bank be receiving from the approval of your husband in this role here with us?" Howard rubbed his nose briefly and clasped his hands together at his stomach. His attention rested to my cleavage momentarily.

What was he getting at, exactly?

I furrowed my eyebrows as I started to understand what he meant. "You, you aren't referring to me, are you, Mr. Simmons?"

Howard swallowed, "Well, I can't think of a more solid display of loyalty. I mean, some of these other applicants possess quite a number of qualities your husband lacks, unfortunately. I'm asking you, Miss Andrews, as a woman of purpose, what are you willing to perform as a show of confidential loyalty to secure your husband's future here with us? I'm not sure I'll be able to guarantee he gets this position without your assistance."

I stood up, "What--are you saying Mr. Simmons?"

Mr. Simmons remained motionless, his eyes tracking my movement. "I'm asking you how willing you are to help your husband get the position."

I shook my head, realizing he meant what I suspected, "I love my husband. You can't do this. I'll not stand for it."

"You can take your time to mull my proposition over. Please consider your decision carefully." Mr. Simmons cinched his hands together even more and held his composure perfectly.

I bit down hard on my teeth and made for the door. I pushed through it and stormed into the elevator. I jammed my finger repeatedly into the button for the first floor until the doors closed. Once the doors opened, I hurried to my car where I shut the door, turned it on, and leaned back in my chair.

I can't believe what just happened. That was the last thing I expected. Everything was going so smoothly for us and now all our plans are to be ruined because of one lecherous asshole.

I snapped the vehicle into motion and made my way home.

What should I do? I don't want to tell Jim because he'll just go ballistic and then be out of a job entirely. I should have just told Howard no... but then we would still be stuck with our current life. I hate that a part of me is subconsciously considering taking Howard up on his offer, otherwise I would have told him no then and there, but I didn't. It's not even an offer, it's a manipulative threat but I still don't want Jim to be unable to promote.

I parked the car back in our driveway and hustled inside. My three adorable children greeted me with smiles and hugs and returned to their activities. I shuffled back to my room where I sat on the bed and began wrestling with my thoughts.

This should not even be a decision. I'm loyal to Jim. I'm loyal to my family. What if by doing this I was being loyal to him by helping him get the job? No, he'd hate me if he found out, more than I would hate myself probably.

I glanced up, hearing the squeals of happy play from my kids down the hallway. A tear pressed from my eye as I considered their future and how this job's income would impact them.

We could afford each of their college educations, provide them better toys, a better environment to live in, an environment that would greatly be a step above how I grew up. I know what it is like to not have much. I know the struggle a family must bear in their early years and I am tired of fighting this battle. If Jim got the position, we would finally be able to relax and enjoy our family together.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jim saying he convinced a coworker to drop him home so I did not have to pick him up. I smiled underneath my tears, wiped my eyes clean, and texted him back that I would see him soon.

Was this the nightmare my dream meant to warn me about last night? Is this the deviation from the normal comfort and repetition of every day? Is it really wrong for me to want our family to stop worrying about if we can pay off our mortgage, car payments, bills, college funds for the kids, and just even purchase groceries for the week?

Howard's not so smart a boss either, because if I accepted his 'proposition,' I would always have blackmail on him. I wonder how many perks and promotions I could secure with only a night's worth of blackmail?

Jim returned home from work in the evening as he had said. I tried to avoid him but he sought me out after playfully tussling with the kids. He approached me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, "Hey, gorgeous, how are you?"

I stifled my sob and spun into him with a hug, "I'm just glad you're home."

I felt him nod over me, "I'm glad to be home too."

He then left to change into evening clothes and we watched a show together with the kids before bed.

The thought of cheating on Jim continued to bug at me the entire evening, keeping me from being very affectionate with him. I could tell he noticed my lack of touch, but he did not bring it up. Instead, we both slipped into the sheets of our bed together and tried to sleep on opposite sides.

I stared at the void wall on my side of the room, conflict continuing to churn in my stomach. The lure of Howard's sick offer continued to pull at me while my devotion to Jim tugged me back from fully embracing it.

Jim is a good man--a great man in fact. He deserves my fidelity but he also deserves this job promotion. I do not want to be the reason it is denied to him. He would never even know I caused him to be dismissed from the position's selection group. He would assume it was because he did not work hard enough or that he spent too much time with me and the kids instead of working. I do not want him to spend less time with us.

My thoughts continued to buzz until they reached such a din in my brain that I became numb to their noise, dropping into sleep.

Tingles prickled down my spine as the cool touch of metal pressed against my throat. My eyes flickered open and I soaked in the misty, frightening scene before me. A creature swathed in black, whisky cloth stood about two feet in front of me with an even darker blade in its hand. The blade vibrated against my neck as if energized by some unseen power and felt colder than fog against my skin. A hood shrouded the being's face from my vision, making it faceless. I heard a slow growl surge from its essence as it waited for me to react.

When my thoughts finally collected, I stepped back in terror only to find the being and its blade stuck with me even though they did not actively move to do so. I stopped, froze, and put a frightened hand to my chest, hoping the blade would not cut into me.

"What, wh--who are you?" I finally managed to stammer.

The creature's hooded head cocked diagonally as if insulted, "I am surprised. We've done this dance maybe five times now." It growled again, as if to clear its throat, "You live in a world of repetition. Every day goes as planned, every dream the same as the night before, every thought congruent with what you perceive to be your reality; until the nightmare comes. I am that nightmare."

"So, you're my nightmares?"

"I am every mortal's nightmare. I am Death."

My eyes widened with fear. I did not want to die. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I where? You are in my forest, Lilly. I didn't bring you here, you brought yourself to me."

I gulped at its mention of my first name. It is rather creepy hearing a spiritual being capable of killing you use your own name without any kind of prior introduction. "I don't understand."

If I could see its face, I am almost positive it would be smiling, "I reap the souls of those whose stench of sin reeks so horrendously even God waves his hand to whisk it away from His nostrils. I try to be patient but some people are just too disgusting to let live."

I scrunched my eyebrow, "And you're saying I reek of sin?"

It nodded.

"What are you talking about? I am a good person. I am a Christian. I am saved by Jesus Christ."

Death chuckled slowly, shaking its head patronizingly, "And yet, you were planning to cheat on your precious husband? How quaint." It inhaled as if in pain, "Jesus's salvation only counts toward the Second Resurrection when all you disgusting sinful wrecks will be judged by God Almighty. Until then, I have freedom to reap people according to how long my patience for them can last. There's a little bit of permission I have to acquire from Him, but for the most part, he lets me do my work without hinderance."

"You know nothing about me," I seethed, averse to how condescending it sounded. "How arrogant are you?"

"Arrogance is busy elsewhere, actually, although I will admit I have been spending too much time with him. Might be beginning to rub off on me,"

I squinted with confusion as to what it was talking about. I shook my head, "I was not going to cheat on my husband."

It slanted its head diagonally even more, "Is that what you told yourself? Uhg, warning you is really beginning to not be worth the trouble."

"Warning me?"

"I've been trying to get it across to you for about five dreams now. When you've seen so many beautiful marriages broken up by stupid decisions like yours after millennia of human history, you get rather depressed and frustrated with watching the same sad story play out again and again. The Devil still enjoys it, but I am a connoisseur of more dynamic taste."

"You mean, you are doing this out of pity for me?"

"Dreams are the only way I can affect your reality aside from just eliminating you from it. Here is where I have the most power. You'll wake up, barely recall the important parts of this conversation, and reason my presence in your dream away as just being a trick of your subconscious mind, yet there will still be a slim chance you'll alter your insipid behavior afterwards. It's kind of a loophole I discovered." Death shuffled its weight back, lifting the blade off my neck. "I'm no longer stuck witnessing your self-destructive behavior."

"I can't believe if this is really happening or not." I stated, overwhelmed by the realistic feel of the dream.

Another growl emanated from Death's core, "When you wake up you'll struggle to remember this dream; just the important parts. So, Lilly, look at me and listen intently."

I gulped and forced myself to stare into the blankness of Death's hood.

"Do not cheat on your husband." He commanded simply.

His six-word sentence impacted me like a massive dump of water. Tears stung into my eyes and I faltered a few steps back. Guilt gripped my muscles as regret terrorized my emotions. I had not even committed the sin yet the emotional consequence and toll lashed into my body.

It watched me scream, convulse my body, and claw at my face with self-loathing fury. "Lilly, you have yet to do it and there's still time to stop. All you need do to end this nightmare is meet my blade."

I looked up through my bloodied face, remembered the previous dreams, and how they all ended with his blade slashing my neck. Never before had I desperately wished for a blade to do exactly that as I did right now. I picked myself up from the dead sticks and leaves I had fallen into, racing to him. I stood before him and exposed my neck to his blade.

He gently set the cool weapon against me, his gaze analyzing me with pity.

I swallowed as my lips quivered with fear, "Thank you. Thank you for doing this."

Death replied with grim silence as he dragged his sword across my neck.

I coughed on oxygen as it surged into my lungs. I sat up rigidly in the darkness of my bedroom and quickly swiveled my attention to my right, checking for my husband. There he slept, as soundly as I had left him. A feeling of electric gratitude flooded my body. I lurched myself into his arms and pulled him tightly to me.

No matter what happened, I would be my husband's loyal wife. He would be mine and I would be his as we promised each other all those years ago.

"What--what are you doing?" Jim asked groggily as he wrapped me in his warm embrace.

I snuggled my face against his chest, happy to be safe again, "I love you, Mr. Jim Andrews."

He chuckled, "I love you too, Mrs. Lilly Andrews." He rested his arms together around me and slowly slipped back to sleep.

It was just a nightmare, but it was one I would remember for years to come. Whether I remembered all the details or not did not matter because it accomplished what it was meant to. It saved me from making the worst decision of my life and I will forever be grateful for that.

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