Entry 03: I Woke Up Trembling
Title: I Woke Up Trembling
Entry Number: 03
Author: insaneladybug/Lucky_Ladybug
Fandom: The Rockford Files
Rating: PG-13/T (creepy dreams, mentions of possession/mind control, concern over the possibility of unwillingly killing someone)
Genre: Supernatural/Friendship
Spoiler Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1,467
By Lucky_Ladybug
The room was dark, lit only by a myriad of candles strategically placed in holders located where they would be of the greatest use. The beams flickered and danced, sending a certain amount of light across the wide expanse of the room while casting unsettling shadows as well.
It was either a chapel or something like it. Pews were lined up in three sets of rows, all the way to the front of the room where a black casket had been placed upon an altar.
He was lying in the coffin, either unconscious or dead. One of the beige suits that he was so fond of adorned his motionless form. His hands were clasped on his chest. A strange, rectangular, onyx ring was on the little finger of his left hand.
He wondered how he was seeing himself. Was he dead then, and his spirit was lingering for the funeral, or whatever this was? Or was he unconscious and had somehow astral-projected? He had no memory of the event either way.
A shadow suddenly appeared above his body. He stared, stunned, and was further appalled by the sight of Lou. Lou’s eyes, instead of filled with emotion and grief, were blank and cold. He raised his right hand, poised above the inert form, and a knife’s blade caught the light of the flickering candles.
He brought it down toward the other man’s heart.
Ginger started awake, gasping in shaken confusion and alarm. Tangled up in the quilt and the sheets, he kicked them off and lay back in the bed, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling.
“What was that?” he uttered in bewildered disbelief. “What the bloody devil could have caused such a thing?”
He ran a hand into his hair. Of course, like anyone else, he was no stranger to night terrors. But it was very rare to dream about something as outrageous and outlandish as laying in a coffin while his best friend heaved a knife into his helpless body.
“I didn’t even watch the late-night horror flick,” he muttered to the night.
Even though he knew it was just a dream, and one that could never come to pass, he could not rid himself of his disturbed feelings. He sat up and then stood, shoving his feet into his slippers before crossing the room to the door and opening it.
The hall was dimly lit by a nightlight, which only served to further chill him when remembering the eerie glows cast by the candles in his dream. He fumbled with the lights in the hall, clicking them to full brightness before he was satisfied.
He scowled at the same moment. What was he doing, allowing a silly dream to affect him this deeply? It was preposterous. He would never want Lou to see him behaving so irrationally.
“Ginger?”
Lou’s door creaked open and Ginger visibly flinched. But as he turned, seeing Lou regarding him in bewildered sleepiness, he caught something of the same fear in Lou’s eyes that Ginger felt.
“What are you doing up?” Ginger grunted, not willing to admit that he was relieved to see that Lou was his normal, peaceable self.
“Dream woke me up, I guess.” Lou shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant and failing. “What’s with the lights?”
“It wasn’t bright enough,” Ginger answered. “Someone could stumble and fall down the steps, what with how dim that nightlight is.”
Lou hesitated. “It is kind of dark,” he agreed, slowly. “But you’ve never turned on all the lights before.”
“Oh, come off it.” Ginger turned away, walking back to the staircase and grasping the banister.
“Hey, Ginger. . . .” Lou walked over to him, still hesitant, but the fear had slipped into his voice now as well as his eyes. “You . . . don’t own an onyx ring, do you?”
Ginger went absolutely rigid. “What?!” He spun around to face Lou, unable to believe what he had just heard. “Why would you ask that?”
Lou averted his gaze. “No reason. Just . . .” He shook his head, turning away. “No reason.”
Ginger highly doubted it. And once Lou resumed speaking, Ginger knew it for sure.
“Ginger . . . I’ve never hurt you, have I? Well, I mean, I’ve never hurt you because I wanted to.”
Ginger gripped Lou’s arm. “In your right mind, you would never hurt me,” he snapped. “Are you coming from an imagined experience where you did?!”
He could feel Lou going stiff in his grasp. His features contorted in anguish, Lou finally turned back to face him. “Ginger, I . . . I dreamed I killed you,” he choked out. “If you weren’t already dead. You were laying so still in that . . .”
“That coffin?” Ginger supplied.
Lou went sheet-white. “How did you know?”
“There was a black coffin on an altar in what seemed to be a church,” Ginger described. Lou stared at him, the color draining more from his face with every word. “I was in the coffin, my hands clasped on my chest. I was wearing an onyx ring. You were standing over me, your eyes dark and heartless. You lowered a knife to my heart.”
“How?” Lou choked. “Was I talking in my sleep?! Ginger . . .”
Ginger looked at him, steadily, by now quite properly disturbed. “I dreamed about the bloody thing too.”
Lou slumped back. “The exact same thing,” he breathed, still unable to make sense of it. “Why?!” He started to pace in the hall, throwing his hands in the air. “Does that mean there’s something to it, some kind of warning we have to listen to?!”
“Would people such as you and I be given such warnings?” Ginger scoffed. “And what in blazes does it mean? Nothing such as what we dreamed could possibly come to pass in reality.”
Lou stopped pacing. “Maybe it could,” he said. “And maybe we’d be warned. I’ve got family up there, in the . . . whatever there is next. You do too, don’t you?”
Ginger shrugged. “That’s beside the point.”
“That’s exactly the point!” Lou retorted. “They’d want us to know if something awful was going to happen. They’d want to try to help us so it wouldn’t happen.”
Ginger folded his arms. “You say maybe it could happen. What makes you say this? Do you believe someone will try and succeed in turning us against each other, and so drastically that you will be willing to murder me?”
“No.” Lou spoke firmly. He came back to Ginger, resting his hands on Ginger’s arms. “But what about that demon medallion? What about how I beat you senseless when I put it on and that creepy spirit got hold of me?” He shuddered. “What if something like that happens again, and I can’t stop myself like I did then?” His voice lowered to a desperate, agonized whisper. “What if I kill you?”
Ginger reached up, grabbing at Lou’s hands. “You have better self-control than that,” he objected. “You would never kill me, Lou, even if something else was trying to take over your body.”
Lou drew a shaking breath. “I wish I could believe that,” he said. “After what happened before, and this dream tonight, I just don’t know.”
Ginger glowered, angry at how Lou’s self-confidence had been shaken but understanding why at the same time. He had been shaken when Lou, while possessed, had beaten him unconscious. It still made his skin crawl when he thought of it (which he tried not to do).
But Lou had broken the control before Ginger had been critically hurt. His will had been stronger than that of the evil spirit’s. And it would be again, if the time ever came when it would be put to the test.
And so Ginger still spoke with a firm, unyielding conviction when he said, “I do.”
Lou stared at him, overwhelmed and amazed by his friend’s insistence. But then he sighed and nodded. “Thanks for your faith, Buddy.”
“It isn’t faith,” Ginger grunted. “Faith is belief. When someone knows something, they no longer have faith. And I know.”
With that, Ginger released him and headed for the stairs again.
Lou stood by, watching. “You still don’t think you can sleep?”
“Do you?” Ginger returned, not looking back. “Just because I’m certain we’d come through such an experience in reality doesn’t mean I’m anxious to drop off and possibly dream it up again.”
“. . . Good point.” Lou followed him downstairs and into the kitchen.
They remained awake for a large portion of the remainder of the night, just snacking and talking and enjoying each other’s company.
They enjoyed the sound of Mrs. Oreck dancing with Harold the vacuum cleaner a lot less.
But at least it was relatively harmless.
Entry Number: 03
Author: insaneladybug/Lucky_Ladybug
Fandom: The Rockford Files
Rating: PG-13/T (creepy dreams, mentions of possession/mind control, concern over the possibility of unwillingly killing someone)
Genre: Supernatural/Friendship
Spoiler Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1,467
By Lucky_Ladybug
The room was dark, lit only by a myriad of candles strategically placed in holders located where they would be of the greatest use. The beams flickered and danced, sending a certain amount of light across the wide expanse of the room while casting unsettling shadows as well.
It was either a chapel or something like it. Pews were lined up in three sets of rows, all the way to the front of the room where a black casket had been placed upon an altar.
He was lying in the coffin, either unconscious or dead. One of the beige suits that he was so fond of adorned his motionless form. His hands were clasped on his chest. A strange, rectangular, onyx ring was on the little finger of his left hand.
He wondered how he was seeing himself. Was he dead then, and his spirit was lingering for the funeral, or whatever this was? Or was he unconscious and had somehow astral-projected? He had no memory of the event either way.
A shadow suddenly appeared above his body. He stared, stunned, and was further appalled by the sight of Lou. Lou’s eyes, instead of filled with emotion and grief, were blank and cold. He raised his right hand, poised above the inert form, and a knife’s blade caught the light of the flickering candles.
He brought it down toward the other man’s heart.
Ginger started awake, gasping in shaken confusion and alarm. Tangled up in the quilt and the sheets, he kicked them off and lay back in the bed, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling.
“What was that?” he uttered in bewildered disbelief. “What the bloody devil could have caused such a thing?”
He ran a hand into his hair. Of course, like anyone else, he was no stranger to night terrors. But it was very rare to dream about something as outrageous and outlandish as laying in a coffin while his best friend heaved a knife into his helpless body.
“I didn’t even watch the late-night horror flick,” he muttered to the night.
Even though he knew it was just a dream, and one that could never come to pass, he could not rid himself of his disturbed feelings. He sat up and then stood, shoving his feet into his slippers before crossing the room to the door and opening it.
The hall was dimly lit by a nightlight, which only served to further chill him when remembering the eerie glows cast by the candles in his dream. He fumbled with the lights in the hall, clicking them to full brightness before he was satisfied.
He scowled at the same moment. What was he doing, allowing a silly dream to affect him this deeply? It was preposterous. He would never want Lou to see him behaving so irrationally.
“Ginger?”
Lou’s door creaked open and Ginger visibly flinched. But as he turned, seeing Lou regarding him in bewildered sleepiness, he caught something of the same fear in Lou’s eyes that Ginger felt.
“What are you doing up?” Ginger grunted, not willing to admit that he was relieved to see that Lou was his normal, peaceable self.
“Dream woke me up, I guess.” Lou shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant and failing. “What’s with the lights?”
“It wasn’t bright enough,” Ginger answered. “Someone could stumble and fall down the steps, what with how dim that nightlight is.”
Lou hesitated. “It is kind of dark,” he agreed, slowly. “But you’ve never turned on all the lights before.”
“Oh, come off it.” Ginger turned away, walking back to the staircase and grasping the banister.
“Hey, Ginger. . . .” Lou walked over to him, still hesitant, but the fear had slipped into his voice now as well as his eyes. “You . . . don’t own an onyx ring, do you?”
Ginger went absolutely rigid. “What?!” He spun around to face Lou, unable to believe what he had just heard. “Why would you ask that?”
Lou averted his gaze. “No reason. Just . . .” He shook his head, turning away. “No reason.”
Ginger highly doubted it. And once Lou resumed speaking, Ginger knew it for sure.
“Ginger . . . I’ve never hurt you, have I? Well, I mean, I’ve never hurt you because I wanted to.”
Ginger gripped Lou’s arm. “In your right mind, you would never hurt me,” he snapped. “Are you coming from an imagined experience where you did?!”
He could feel Lou going stiff in his grasp. His features contorted in anguish, Lou finally turned back to face him. “Ginger, I . . . I dreamed I killed you,” he choked out. “If you weren’t already dead. You were laying so still in that . . .”
“That coffin?” Ginger supplied.
Lou went sheet-white. “How did you know?”
“There was a black coffin on an altar in what seemed to be a church,” Ginger described. Lou stared at him, the color draining more from his face with every word. “I was in the coffin, my hands clasped on my chest. I was wearing an onyx ring. You were standing over me, your eyes dark and heartless. You lowered a knife to my heart.”
“How?” Lou choked. “Was I talking in my sleep?! Ginger . . .”
Ginger looked at him, steadily, by now quite properly disturbed. “I dreamed about the bloody thing too.”
Lou slumped back. “The exact same thing,” he breathed, still unable to make sense of it. “Why?!” He started to pace in the hall, throwing his hands in the air. “Does that mean there’s something to it, some kind of warning we have to listen to?!”
“Would people such as you and I be given such warnings?” Ginger scoffed. “And what in blazes does it mean? Nothing such as what we dreamed could possibly come to pass in reality.”
Lou stopped pacing. “Maybe it could,” he said. “And maybe we’d be warned. I’ve got family up there, in the . . . whatever there is next. You do too, don’t you?”
Ginger shrugged. “That’s beside the point.”
“That’s exactly the point!” Lou retorted. “They’d want us to know if something awful was going to happen. They’d want to try to help us so it wouldn’t happen.”
Ginger folded his arms. “You say maybe it could happen. What makes you say this? Do you believe someone will try and succeed in turning us against each other, and so drastically that you will be willing to murder me?”
“No.” Lou spoke firmly. He came back to Ginger, resting his hands on Ginger’s arms. “But what about that demon medallion? What about how I beat you senseless when I put it on and that creepy spirit got hold of me?” He shuddered. “What if something like that happens again, and I can’t stop myself like I did then?” His voice lowered to a desperate, agonized whisper. “What if I kill you?”
Ginger reached up, grabbing at Lou’s hands. “You have better self-control than that,” he objected. “You would never kill me, Lou, even if something else was trying to take over your body.”
Lou drew a shaking breath. “I wish I could believe that,” he said. “After what happened before, and this dream tonight, I just don’t know.”
Ginger glowered, angry at how Lou’s self-confidence had been shaken but understanding why at the same time. He had been shaken when Lou, while possessed, had beaten him unconscious. It still made his skin crawl when he thought of it (which he tried not to do).
But Lou had broken the control before Ginger had been critically hurt. His will had been stronger than that of the evil spirit’s. And it would be again, if the time ever came when it would be put to the test.
And so Ginger still spoke with a firm, unyielding conviction when he said, “I do.”
Lou stared at him, overwhelmed and amazed by his friend’s insistence. But then he sighed and nodded. “Thanks for your faith, Buddy.”
“It isn’t faith,” Ginger grunted. “Faith is belief. When someone knows something, they no longer have faith. And I know.”
With that, Ginger released him and headed for the stairs again.
Lou stood by, watching. “You still don’t think you can sleep?”
“Do you?” Ginger returned, not looking back. “Just because I’m certain we’d come through such an experience in reality doesn’t mean I’m anxious to drop off and possibly dream it up again.”
“. . . Good point.” Lou followed him downstairs and into the kitchen.
They remained awake for a large portion of the remainder of the night, just snacking and talking and enjoying each other’s company.
They enjoyed the sound of Mrs. Oreck dancing with Harold the vacuum cleaner a lot less.
But at least it was relatively harmless.