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Chapter 3 - Nightmare

  I look up from the book, this wasn't really the kind of story I was suspecting.

  "How far did you get?" Quiller asks me not hiding his interest at all.

  "I finished... the first."

  He sighs: "Not the fastest reader, are you?"

  I look at him, annoyed: "I read at my own speed.... reading just like eating? The slower you read, the more you... enjoy it."

  "Alright, alright. So, did you-?"

  "Nah."

  "What?"

  "I thought... it was going to be cooler, maybe something with heroes. Even a book about a ghost might... be interesting."

  Utter defeat is written all over the 'imaginary' guys face, making me chuckle.

  "You're mean."

  "Kind people in an apocalypse are useless."

  He looks at me for a moment and then asks: "So, you're going to throw it out now?"

  I look at him: "Nah. It might become more... entertwini- entertaining later on." Speaking is still difficult, especially when I try to speak without mistakes.

  He gives me a sad smile.

  "Why do you care?"

  He hesitates for a moment to answer.

  "Well, like I said, It's a pretty good book."

  I nod: "Yeah, you really aren't the... writer, right?"

  He looks at me in shock: "N-no... I mean..."

  "Just kidding, It just said Ex Libra's Q.F. Shannon. But that might mean it used to be yours."

  "I've never owned anything." Quiller protests: "I've always been imaginary."

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  If I were to throw away this book right now, I would probably lose my imaginary friend with it. Or at least that is my theory. I only met him after opening this thing after all.

  Yeah, it might be strange for an adult to have one. But if this keeps me from going insane, then so be it.

  I will be the most childish adult in this entire apocalypse.

  Even if I'm all alone in it now.

  I get up from the couch and start placing traps around.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Making sure I won't get... my sleep disturbed... by one of those... those half-dead jerks."

  "I see." Quiller mutters, slightly hesitant probably due to me cursing again.

  I lie down on the old couch.

  Even though it's all dusty, I haven't had such a nice bed in ages.

  I've gotten used to my jacket on the floor for a while now and it doesn't take long for me to fall asleep.

  I'm sitting in something I recognize as a car.

  I seem to be sitting here with a bunch of people with wiped out faces.

  Even though that is the case I feel strangely at ease with them.

  One of them turns to me and calls me by my name.

  "Yes?" I ask and the other shows me a toy, a toy car? If I'm correct.

  I look outside the windows and notice that we're driving.

  We move around the corner and I see strange people standing outside.

  Their eyes glow strangely blue.

  The car crashes into something and the strange people outside start running towards us, their mouths covered in blood.

  From one moment to the next, I notice that I'm standing outside and it's dark.

  It's raining outside.

  I hold up my hand to the rain.

  It drips onto it and then a flickering streetlight shows me that there is something wrong with the rain.

  It's red.

  It's thick and red.

  Falling out if the heavens like rain, blood keeps pouring down.

  It starts to stick to the streetlight, making the only light in my world slowly disappear.

  I run towards it for rescue, but it all turns dark just before I can reach it.

  In the distance I hear growling...

  My eyes flash open and I quickly sit up, completely out of breath.

  What a horrible nightmare.

  I guess even though I have a decent place to sleep, the nightmares are something I will never be able to get away from.

  I look at the light entering the room via the clock.

  I guess it's morning already.

  This must be a good place to stay then.

  I sit up and silently take out the old, worn map from it.

  With a pen I mark the spot and write 'Clock/Attic' next to it, while using the book as support for the paper.

  "Good morning." Quiller says, seeming a bit down.

  "'Morning." I whisper, while looking at him questioningly.

  "Don't worry, nothing happened while you were asleep. You did seem to be having a nightmare."

  I shake my head: "What did you expect?" I nudge my head a little towards the window: "Be happy for the strength we gained from... a little shut-eye."

  Unfortunately he doesn't seem to want to take the joke as a joke. Perhaps he didn't even notice.

  "Life shouldn't be like this." He mumbles more to himself than to me.

  I look at him with a sudden question burning in my mind: "Did you sleep on the floor? Or float?"

  "Float? I'm not a ghost you know."

  "Oh really?"

  "I'm just a figment of your imagination."

  "You keep that up, but really... it's getting harder to believe every time."

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