Chapter 14

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Maybe I Need Therapy Because My Dreams Are Upsetting

"Well, that was... upsetting", Hector said and brushed away a strand of hair that had covered his left eye. He sat down in the big leather chair and started spinning. "So, what do we do next? Just wait for him to show up or do you guys have any plans?"

"Didn't he say that he wants to start where it all started?" Mallory asked.
Hector held on to the edge of the table and came to an abrupt halt. "Yes, he did and he said something else... 'Where Shute fell.' What does that mean?"

The sentence triggered a distant memory I had of me and my mother in a forest. I was unsure at first why I remembered it now. It was summer and my mother and I went on a hiking trip together. We went outside very often because we both loved nature. I think it's because of my dad, Frey, the god of summer.
This hiking trip was special. We went to a forest roughly 10 miles from Boston and followed a path that led us to a lake. There we rented a canoe and paddled across, towards a small island in the middle of the lake. The view was wonderful. The calm water surrounded us, the city noise was left behind. All we could see were trees, water and the island in front of us. Once we reached it we tied our canoes to a tree and walked around. Even though it was called the 'Great Island' it was rather small. Narrow paths, covered with leaves and sticks, were lumbered between the trees and led us towards the middle of the island where we found something very strange. Something that looked like a gravestone. The words set into the stone were clearly readable even though it was timeworn and covered in moss: Where Shute fell.
At that time we didn't know what it meant so when we came back my mom asked the man who rented the canoes about it. He smiled creepily and told us the story of a wrestler who had died there a long time ago in a fight against his oponent. He told us that if we where quiet enough we could still hear him calling out from beyond the grave. Every night he would call out and ask for help, but nobody has ever seen him.
Even though I was still very young I knew that it was just a ghost story, probably made up by the vender himself to attract visitors. We never found out whether there was another story about the tombstone that was more realistic or not.
Nostalgia took hold of me as I told the others about the hiking trip with my mother. I loved walking with her through the woods, talking about nothing in perticular.
When I finished my story I realized that I had walked across the room towards another chair and sat down. I looked up from the carpet whose pattern I had followed with my eyes.

"I think we should go to the island and search for Morpheus there." I said quietly. "It's our biggest shot and who knows what he'll do if we just sit around and wait."

Hector nodded. "Sounds like a promising lead and the faster we do something the better. But how do we get there and where do we sleep? It's lunchtime now and I'm starving. Assuming we'll get something to eat right now, which we will, and go to the canoe rental while eating we could reach it this evening. But I'm not ready to fight during the night and neither are you I think."
He looked over our tired faces, he himself didn't look well rested either, and I knew that he was right. The last night had been short and we didn't get the sleep we would have needed after fighting the Mare. Even though none of us had admitted it I still knew that despite their desperate attempts to act as if everything was fine the fight against those monsters of the night had had a bigger impact than we expected.
They weren't just fighting against us physically. Their voices had been tiring and sharp, cutting our will to go on with the quest in half. They brought up the fears of what could happen if anything went wrong. If those fears would become reality all our lives would change into living nightmares.
It seems like it was ages ago but after thinking about it it was really only one day since we had left the hotel. What made it feel like such a long time was the dream I had when Jack knocked me out in the train yesterday. I didn't tell anyone about it because I didn't think it would matter but now I realized that they probably all had some similar experience last night, otherwise they wouldn't look so glum now.
I dreamt the same thing TJ and I dreamt two days ago when Morpheus had attacked out dreams.
I was trapped inside a bottomless pit of never ending darkness. Around me I heard voice whispering that I should safe them, it felt as if they lay a weight onto my chest forcing me down, trapping my soul in their anguish.
The voices were filled with despair and agony and begged me to help them. But all I could do was fall and fall and leave them behind. Other voices further away drew me closer and I suddenly hit the floor. I didn't get hurt but nothing really changed. I still couldn't see anything and I still heard the voices whispering. Distant screaming reached my ears and I kept walking to where the sound was coming from. Slowly the whispering got louder and louder. Out of the pure darkness surrounding me dark shadown started to form and close in on me. They kept calling me, their voices changed from whispering to softly talking to calling out loud.
'Help us, Magnus. We need you, you can't leave us here.'
My head began to hurt from the intensity of the noise and it felt like they penetrated my ear drums. Now even louder they started to scream and screech.
The shadows kept coming closer and closer and made it hard to breathe. I had to stop walking and gasped for air. "Help me", I yelped. "Air... I need..."
I sank down on my knees and gripped my throat with my hands.
The shadow answered my cry for help with denial.
'No, we won't help you now. Did you forget that you have abandoned us? We have been waiting for so long and now you ask for our help?' 
"Please!" I cried out. "I can't... breathe..."
I fell down, my check touched the cold, hard floor, my hands still held onto my throat. As my vision started fading I heard one last voice.
"Magnus, why did you let me go?"
It was my mother's voice.

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