Dreams In Darkness
an excerpt

Chapter 1

I was walking across a barren field. The sky looked like it was going to storm. The clouds were more purple than gray. I stopped and looked around for some sort of sign to tell me where I was. But there was nothing, nothing but the crumbly dirt under my bare feet and those ominous clouds. I felt very alive for some reason. Even in that empty landscape I saw every single detail.
The dirt was dusty and dry, like it had gone through a bad drought. Little shriveled bits of plants were mixed in with the soil. Suddenly the purple clouds started to drizzle. The bits of plants were soaking up the rain. They went from a dead brown to a lime green in seconds. Their roots snaked through the soil. Some leaves reached up towards the sky as if they couldn’t wait for the raindrops to land on the ground. I was so entranced by the sudden regeneration of the plants that I didn’t notice that the plant was curling around my leg. I jumped and tried to kick of the green tentacle but it relentlessly held on. I guess it called some friends because next thing I knew another vine grabbed my arm and another grabbed around my waist. Slowly they twirled themselves around my whole body until I couldn’t move.
Then the vines started to tighten. Little by little they squeezed the breath out me. I realized I would suffocate if I didn’t get loose. Suffocating is not on my list of ways to die, much too painful. I squirmed and writhed trying to loosen the bonds but it was no use. I was destined to be squeezed to death by these stupid little plants that had obviously mistaken themselves for boa constrictors.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a person walking through this jungle of writhing plants. Using the remaining breath I had I called out for help. He slowly turned and walked toward me. As he came closer I noticed that he wasn’t a person at all but a scarecrow. He was one wicked looking scarecrow. His shirt hung loosely on his gaunt frame and his face was sewn crudely together with straw poking out of the seams. His smile was by far his most repulsive feature. It was wide and mocking. More like a gash in his face than a mouth. I stared up at this scarecrow and wished dearly that I had not called for help. To put together his overall creepiness he was carrying a sharp curved blade.
The scarecrow came to where I was lying on the ground being squeezed to death by these demon plants. He raised up his curved blade so that it glinted in the flashes of lightning. I tried to scream but there was no air left in my lungs to let loose a cry for help that no one but the scarecrow would hear. Then the scarecrow swung his blade down at me.