Lee was having a nightmare.
He was six years old again, and stuck in the corner of a pitch black, eerily silent room. Despite the darkness, he could see the shadows that danced and jumped on the wall, silently cackling as they watched him cower. But what held his attention was that door ahead; the large door that seemed so far yet so near. The door that if opened would let in his monster.
I should run, he thought as he sat curled up, trembling and cold in that corner.
Stand up, he ordered but his body refused to move. Or maybe it just couldn’t move. Not when fear was racing up and down his spine and freezing his every limb.
A sudden creaking sound pulled him from his thoughts. His eyes flew back to the door. The doorknob was turning. Slowly. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. Then the door began to move inwards. If he thought what he was feeling before was fear, then he was wrong. This – this was fear. Terror circled Lee like a vulture gleefully eyeing its prey even as he watched that door move.
As the door opened, a light so bright that it blinded him filled the room. The cackling shadows jumped back, receding into the depths of the room as if they too feared what was coming through the door. Lee blinked, trying to see past the white light. But it was too bright. That only meant one thing; his monster wasn’t at the door otherwise it would be dark not bright.
This was his chance. His panicked thoughts prodded him. Run now.
Ungluing his frozen limbs was a herculean task, but somehow he managed it. The next moment, he was running out the door and down the stairs. A sudden thumping sound behind him forced him to turn. His stomach almost fell to the floor.
There was his monster. Right behind him.
Though it had an obscenely long body and long arms, it had no face. There was only darkness where facial features were supposed to be. It was the most horrifying thing Lee had ever seen and it was coming after him. Time slowed down, pacing with the monster’s slow footsteps. Fresh fear spurted through Lee. Like poison, that fear inched through his veins, leaving him feeling sick to his stomach.
His speed down the stairs increased. Now he was running down one flight of stairs, then another, then another… My God, why weren’t these stairs ending? They seemed to go on and on. As soon as he thought the thought, a wall abruptly appeared before him, blocking him from moving any further. And the monster kept coming, coming, coming.
Lee opened his mouth to scream but only one word came out. Amara.
The monster stretched its long arms out, slowly reaching for him.
Amara, save me, Lee silently screamed as he tried to get away from those hands. His back bumped against the wall. There was nowhere to run. Amara. Where are you? Amara, Amara, Amara.
Though the monster had no face, Lee could feel its smile as its slippery fingertips grazed his face. Amara.
Lee jolted up in the bed with a gasp as he finally dragged himself from his nightmare. His panicked gaze darted around the dimly lit room as he tried to figure out where he was. Then he realized where he was. He was in his own room, in his own apartment. Not that strange house with the monsters and never-ending stairs.
Thank God. Pulling in a shaky breath, he wiped his face. He glanced at the clock. Three a.m. He sighed. These nightmares would be the death of him. Usually, he could sleep an easy seven hours. But in the last week, his sleep had been marred by the same nightmare. No matter what time he slept or how bright he kept the lights, he was up at exactly three a.m., heart pounding in his chest, body bathed in a cold sweat and sheets twisted around his limbs.
Trying to go back to sleep after a bout was a waste of time because the nightmares always left him with a nagging feeling that he was being watched. That if he closed his eyes, something would slip into bed beside him.
The last time he’d had these nightmares, he was in junior high. Even then, they’d been as vivid as they were now. In fact they’d gotten so bad, that he’d gone without sleep for several days so he wouldn’t have to experience them. When he’d finally collapsed from exhaustion, his parents had forced him to see a therapist.
And now those nightmares were back again.
Should he start seeing a therapist again? Lee wondered as he showered. Nah! That hadn’t worked out last time. The nightmares had disappeared on their own without him or the therapist figuring out why they’d started in the first place. Maybe that would happen this time too. If he just waited them out, the nightmares would leave him again.
Yes, that’s what he’d do! Lee decided as he threw on a t-shirt and jeans. He’d wait the nightmares out.
It was only once he was dressed that he realized that he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. And not just because it was four-thirty a.m.. Because their show was pre-produced, they were done editing all the upcoming episodes. Unfortunately, his next project started in two weeks, which left him with nothing to do now but twiddle his thumbs.
With a sigh, he settled in front of the TV. Soon, he found an interesting thriller movie. However, barely ten minutes later, his mind wandered back to his nightmares. Why was it always that room? And what was up with that faceless monster? At least give him a face to be afraid, or a maybe a skeleton. Hell, if he was making a movie out of his nightmare, he would give it a pasty face with burnt eyes and a bloody smile that stretched to its ears.
Stop it, Man. Are you trying to make the nightmare worse? Shaking his head, he turned off the TV. This wasn’t working. But he knew what might. He grabbed his jacket and car keys.
Despite the early hour, there were a few cars on the road, but not enough to delay him. Twenty minutes later, he parked his truck in front of his father’s store. As he was closing the driver’s door, his gaze strayed across the road to the building directly opposite his father’s. A smile lifted Lee’s lips when he saw the sign atop the building that declared the store to be Warehouse 17.
Judging by the new paint job and name, it was obvious that the building had a new owner. Even without stepping into the antique store, Lee already knew that whoever it was that had taken over from June was his kind of person. Any Sci-fi shows’ fan would’ve quickly picked up on the store’s obvious homage to Warehouse 13, one of Lee’s favorite TV shows. He’d visit it later today to check out who the new owner was, he decided as he let himself into his father’s store.
Mason’s store was a veritable nirvana for the furniture connoisseur. Various pieces were strategically arranged around the large space; desks, beds, couches, vanities… and much more. Lee crossed the room making a beeline straight towards the door that led into the workshop. He pushed the door open.
As soon as he entered the workshop, the pleasant, almost cherry-like smell of wood welcomed him. Several fluorescent lights hang above lighting up the spacious room. Around the space were several work tables, each holding different machinery and tools necessary for working with wood. On the west wall were several slabs of wood waiting to be cut and transformed.
Lee hung his jacket on a hook behind the door before striding to the radio. After tuning into his favorite rock-station, he grabbed safety glasses, ear muffs and gloves. Once he was appropriately geared up, he picked up his father’s big book of records. Usually, this was where his father noted down pertinent details relating to pending orders.
Despite the bad drawings and the squiggly instructions in the book, Lee had worked with his father long enough to know precisely what he wanted for each order. A minute later, he picked a project then strode to the corner of the room to grab a slab of pine. He hauled the wood to the worktable then grabbed the motor saw. Soon the sound of the metal cutting into wood mingled with loud rock music.
He was right! This was exactly what he needed to dispel the nightmares. Cutting the wood required such precision that he had no time to linger in his thoughts. Before he knew it, it was seven a.m. and he had all the pine pieces he needed for the base of his dining table. He was gluing the two-by-four pieces against each other when the door to the workshop swung open and his dad walked in.
“Morning?” Lee said, an instinctive smile lifting his lips as he turned to face his father.
Most people wouldn’t have pegged Lee and Mason as father and son. Lee was several inches taller than his father, had green eyes instead of his father’s brown ones. His hair was a chestnut brown instead of his father’s midnight black (though now it was speckled with gray). However, rumor had it that Lee was a carbon-copy of Mason’s younger brother who’d died overseas.
“Morning.” Mason strode towards his son. “I didn’t know you were coming in.”
“It was an unplanned drop-in,” Lee said, but didn’t elaborate further. He saw no need to tell his father about the nightmares, it would only worry him unnecessarily.
Mason stopped next to the worktable. “What are you working on?”
“Donald Carson’s-” Lee’s breath hitched as he used the clamps to bind three pieces of wood. “- dining table.”
“Aah. You know it needs a heavy base, right?”
“Yeah. I’m gluing three pieces together at a time,” Lee said as he set the now bound pieces together.
“Good. Good. Good.” Mason nodded approvingly as he inspected Lee’s work. “How long are your pieces?”
“Two-by-four like it says in your book.” Even though Lee knew what he was doing, he asked, “That’s okay, right?”
“Yeah. Should work.” Mason nodded. Striding towards a freshly built dresser, he added, “But stop holding that clamp like it’s an egg. Put some force into it.”
“You’re not even looking at me,” Lee countered. “How do you know I’m holding it like an egg?”
“I know you and your girl hands,” Mason retorted as he inspected the dresser’s drawers.
“My girl hands?” Lee scoffed. “You should know since you gave them to me.”
Soon, the two men were working on their separate projects in companionable silence.
Lee cut into the silence. “Dad?”
“Yeah?” Mason didn’t look up from the painting he was doing.
Lee paused for a second then asked, “Did we have stairs in our old house in Saint Louis?”
Though they’d moved from Saint Louis when Lee was seven, Lee had no memory of the event.
Mason’s eyes widened and he swallowed convulsively. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Just asking.” Lee shrugged.
The older man had stopped polishing and was now watching him. “You know you’ve asked me this question before.”
“I have?”
“Yes. When you were in high-school and having those nightmares.” Mason’s uncomfortably unwavering gaze zeroed in on Lee. “Are you having nightmares again?”
“Of course not,” Lee instinctively lied.
Even now he still remembered how worried his parents had been during that time. He didn’t want to worry his father unnecessarily.
He hedged, “I was just asking because I want to learn how to build staircases and wanted to see pictures of our old house to see if it had one.”
“Sorry, it didn’t have one.” Mason’s keen eyes studied Lee as if searching for a sign that he was lying.
“Oh, well.” Lee forced a smile then changed the subject. “Hey, I saw that someone new moved into June’s shop.”
“Yeah. Her name’s A.J.” Mason suddenly drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, I just remembered… I’m supposed to pick a sculpture I bought from her.”
“Let me go get it for you,” Lee offered as he peeled off his gloves. “I wanted to go check out the shop anyway.”
Moments later, he was crossing the street. Wind-chimes rang as he opened the door that led into Warehouse 17. His first impression of the store was that it was large and classy. Everywhere he looked, beautiful pieces of art met him.
“Good morning.” The black woman who was behind the counter dragged his attention to her.
The moment Lee’s eyes met hers, everything in him stilled. He knew those eyes. He knew those eyes very, very well. And he knew her. She was the woman from the nightclub.
“Welcome to Warehouse 17.” With a smile, she stepped away from the counter.
My God, she was tall. Just the right height for him to kiss without having to bend. His eyes immediately lowered to her smiling lips; thick, moist. He already knew that they’d taste amazing. They parted.
“I’m A.J, the own-” She suddenly stopped speaking. Her eyes slowly widened as she took him in. Then she gasped, “Lee?”