(Draumr Verge Part III)
The vestibule, that’s about as close as I can get to giving the entry room a name, is dark and damp. The faint smell of must and dirt tickles my nose. A single candelabra lights the room, as it sits oddly on a cracked and well worn oak table. I look around, but there is little else to see. The dull cobblestone floor is well worn, its apparent that many people have stood here at this very threshold. The stone slab walls are dark and foreboding. I can not help but shiver slightly as a cold breeze flows through the room from somewhere unseen . I firmly believe this is by design, since the only exit is warm and inviting. The amber glow that washes over me is inviting and it beckons me to enter.
I walk through the doorway and notice the ornately decorated room with its plush carpeting and heavy tapestries hanging from the ceiling. The warm glow of a fireplace tucked into a corner beckons me. I walk over and see a large red velvet chair positioned next to the fire.
I sit in the chair, its high back and thick pillow cushions feel so inviting as does the warm heat from the fire. I feel drowsy and sigh in contentment, as I let myself sink into the cushions of the chair.
“I could sit here for hours and just sleep”.
It sounds so inviting to my weary mind. I look around and notice that a large leather book sits on the table next to the chair. Its dark leather bindings and metal clasps are well worn, and written in bright golden letters that glitter with fire light are the words “The three kingdoms”. I try to open the book but I cannot, the cover remains sealed shut. Just as a reach forward to lift the book up a large group of people come rushing into the room. The book is swept up in the hustle and bustle of this group. I too am pushed from my chair and swept forward out of the room.
At first I was completely disoriented, it felt like this mass group of people were about to suffocate me. I forced myself to calm down and move along with the group. I no longer resisted them instead, I followed. I then occurred me that like many other things in like simply following the crowd made things a lot easier. I didn’t like that realization, but the current circumstances dictated my actions more so then my personal disdain for being a mere follower.
Myself and this group of people continued traveling through out this large mansion. The mansion was enormous more like an ancient city full of rooms and hallways. Many of the people I see are old friends from my youth and days in church. Some are older and some are exactly as they were years ago.
My young son is with me but he is much younger then he is in reality. We are walking through the city and halls of this mansion like city. We enter a large room that is filled with bones and dust. The piles of bones and dust cover every thing. A maze of death and dust swirls before me and I am suddenly gripped with a sense of fear and dread. I stop and tell everyone to not go into the room.
” Its a crypt, there is nothing in there for you but death….”
“The dust is diseased.. it will not comfort you at all.”
No one listens instead they laugh and carry on ignoring my pleas.
I wipe the dust off my clothes and vigorously make sure none is left on me. I will not enter this room instead myself and my son remain in the main hall. We start to walk around and notice that several other rooms exist off this room. I notice as we walk around that two men are always milling around. They are older and sullen, with dark stains on their ashen skin. They look around vacantly as if they don’t see us. I decided to call call these two men the caretaker and his assistant. I suddenly notice that many more people are wandering around the main hall. Several are sitting at tables and benches throughout the room, simply staring off blankly into nothingness.
I notice the caretaker hobbling over to the room I have dubbed as the crypt room. He opens the door and steps back holding it open, much like a servant or valet would. I look in the room and see my friends and those that I knew in church growing up, as they frolic and have a good old time in the crypt room. Slowly one by one as the dust covers them they leave the room and join the others in the main hall. They pass by me and my son but none of them seem to notice us.
Suddenly an old man runs from the room skipping and twirling as he laughs. He stops in front of me and looks directly at me. The first to notice us since we entered this strange mansion.
“welcome to hell.!!!!” he shrieks and laughs manically as he springs off down the nearest hallway.
Now normally in dreams, feelings and moods are very strong and they are indicators of your state of mind during said dream and give us clues to the meaning of events and or images. My reaction was not surprise, dread or fear, instead I was calm and intrigued.
The caretaker turned to me and my son and acknowledged us for the first time.
“Welcome to Helsmar Manor” He bows deeply before us.
“Please forgive some of the guests, not all are as well suited for this place as others are” he smiles knowingly and simply continues talking, giving me no option to answer or question him.
“They only stay here till they learn what ever it is, that they need to learn….”
“Some take longer then others.” He motions to a man sitting at a table in the dark corners of the room
“He’s taking way to long… but I guess any moment he will move one.. or at least I hope so”
I turn and notice the caretakers assistant walking around sweeping. He looks at me and grins. He nods as if he knows something. I get a bit nervous and look for my son. He’s there running around playing and enjoying himself. He seems oblivious to anything that is happening around us. I get the strong feeling that nothing we are seeing even exists for him. I get a sudden sense of knowing again this time, its a realization that none of this does exist for him. He’s not in the dream world he’s a reflection from reality that I brought with me. I take a strange comfort in that, I don’t want him to have to take this journey.
“I don’t want him to take this journey.” The thought echoes in my mind over and over.
I look over and see a young girl in a panic sitting on the floor with her sister I know them from my youth. I walk over and ask her whats wrong. She just mutters”But my witness… I must give my testimony and then it will be different….” she’s terrified but I don’t know why. I try to convince her that its not about that it. It doesn’t matter not anymore. I get frustrated she’s not hearing my pleas to ignore her religious upbringing and see what “hell” is trying to show her.
The caretaker taps me on the shoulder and points toward the corner. The man was gone, and his assistant was cleaning the corner out as though preparing it for its next occupant.
“He finally got it…. good thing to.. he was here longer then he needed to be..”
The transition from one world to the next is not always smooth, and sometimes things get jumbled. I understand that since the ending is never truly the end.