In another bedroom, with dark corners where the cold of the night seemed to nestle, rested a small bunk bed. In it, two children lay sound asleep. In the bed below, Lucas began to squirm. His body twitched as if trying to free himself from a nightmare. His tightly closed eyes betrayed the effort of someone struggling to wake up from something too real to be just a dream.
...
I walked through the small corners of my strangely lit house. The ceiling glowed with luminous dots that looked like trapped stars. I was heading towards the kitchen table, an almost heavenly sight: piles of exotic food, brightly colored fruits, glasses of milk and perfectly poured juices. A scene worthy of a feast I had only seen in magazines or books borrowed from school.
It was so perfect that my mouth filled with saliva and my eyes with childlike excitement. In front of me, a gleaming apple - a fruit I had never tasted before, reserved only for those who could afford luxuries that seemed otherworldly - tempted me with its promise. To hold it in my hands was already a dream. To nibble it, something sacred.
I opened my jaw, ready to savor it... but then, a familiar sound stopped me. Water running in the sink. I turned around.
There was my mother. With her back turned, wearing a white apron decorated with small flowers, she was washing some dishes. Her figure, warm and luminous in that strange light, looked like that of a silent heroine. When I saw the food on the table, I felt a deep satisfaction, a warmth expanding in my chest: surely, she had prepared it.
I watched her in silence, absorbed, as one who contemplates someone sacred.
"Definitely, her future husband will be the luckiest man in the world," I thought, as a smile formed without my realizing it.
That's when I finally bit into the apple. A crunching sound resounded.
And at that moment... all sound ceased.
It was as if that crackling-cold, tasteless, mechanical-had flipped a switch. The water from the faucet stopped running. The murmur from the refrigerator disappeared. Even the light from the spotlights and ceiling spots seemed to fade, become dull.
I looked up.
My mother was still there, motionless, her head bent toward the sink. But she was no longer moving. Nothing about her did. A strange aura surrounded her, as if something invisible had enveloped her.
-Mom...? -My voice came out shaky.
An unfamiliar feeling came over me. It wasn't like the fear when those kids hit me. Not even like when Bill forced me to watch that horror movie, with the woman in the white dress and the face hidden under a blanket of hair.
This was different. Deeper. A fear that squeezes your heart until you think it's going to burst.
-Is it... because of the apple?
"Yes! Maybe that's what it was. I should have waited for my brothers. Dang... I thought all this food was for me alone. What a fool..."
One more crunch - not from the apple this time, but from something deeper, internal, as if something was breaking inside me - made me take a step back.
My mother's figure was still. So still that she looked like an abandoned wax statue. The water in the sink was still running, but not a drop was falling. Everything had been frozen in an instant that I didn't know if it was a dream or a nightmare.
I approached her slowly, my legs trembling like dry branches. I reached out my hand to her.
-Mom...
As soon as I brushed against her apron, something changed. The light from the dots on the ceiling began to flicker, one by one, until it went out completely. The silence grew thicker. More violent. As if the air itself refused to move.
Then she turned.
But it wasn't her.
Her face was bathed in shadows, as if the light refused her. Her eyes-which should have been warm, which should have soothed me-were now bottomless dark pools. There was no expression, no anger, no sadness. Just... emptiness.
And he smiled at me.
A slow, impossible smile that stretched longer than it should. The skin stretched like wet cloth, revealing white but distorted teeth, too straight, too perfect.
My body froze. I couldn't scream. Nor run.
-Were you hungry? -he asked in a hollow voice, as if coming from a distant room, or from inside my head.
I felt something in my hand. The apple. I was still holding it. But it was no longer red. Or shiny. It was black, with cracked skin, as if it had been rotting quietly for years.
I let go of the fruit, which fell to the ground without a sound.
-You shouldn't have eaten it, honey," she said, taking a step forward.
I stepped back. Another step. And another.
The house was disfigured. The walls curved as if they were breathing. The furniture seemed to move away, and the pictures on the walls showed images I couldn't remember ever seeing: eyes, doors, shadows.
I stepped back even further, trying to organize my thoughts and find an explanation for what was happening around me. I tripped over something behind me-probably a piece of furniture-and, in a desperate impulse, I closed my eyes tightly, covering my face with my hands. I imagined that what was in front of me was not my mother.
Then, cracking sounds were heard. They sounded like bones and joints breaking. Slow and irregular.
I couldn't resist. I opened one eye and spread my fingers apart, leaving a small gap to look.
And I instantly regretted it.
Because what was in front of me was not my mother.
It was a dark creature, with long ears and a short body. Between its lips protruded white, fierce, razor-sharp teeth. Where its eyes should have been, there were dark voids, bottomless hollows like space itself. In its hands, long, pointed claws glistened with palpable menace, capable of cutting even metal.
His short stature made him look like a leprechaun, one out of an all-too-real nightmare.
The goblin looked at me strangely, as if he didn't quite understand what I was either. I, even more confused, felt a pang of relief: at least it was no longer my mother who wanted to attack me.
It was then that a fleeting thought crossed my mind.
"It's a dream! It's just a dream!" -well... more like a horrible nightmare.
Relieved to understand, or at least imagine, the origin of that being, I wished with all my strength, eyes closed:
"Go away, go away...!"
I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that the goblin had vanished.
But no.
It was still there. And now it was running straight at me.
My body trembled. My heart was beating with uncontrolled fury. I lunged to the side, narrowly dodging its claws.
-Ouch! -I felt one of them tear my shoulder.
A stinging burning took hold of the wound. The pain intensified the more I thought about it, the more I felt it. Blood spurted out, hot, alive.
Even with the latent fear, I clung to the idea that this was just a dream. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing, to subdue the trembling.
"It's a dream... a dream! My dream!"
When I opened my eyes, my mind a little clearer, I looked at my shoulder.
It was clean. Not a scratch on it.
I looked up. The little being was already turning to attack again. But this time, I was ready.
A mischievous smile came across my face.
The house lit up again. The spotlights, the ceiling spots, even the walls seemed to glow with new life. Everything vibrated with energy.
The goblin lunged at me furiously, claws out in front.
Then I imagined it.
A shield. Round, firm. With a big star in the center. And, as if the universe obeyed my will, the shield appeared, firmly tied to my arm.
I smiled.
The swipe of its claws was stopped by the shield with a screeching sound.
Inspired, I stepped forward. I concentrated.
The walls of the house shook, and huge cobwebs sprang from them, thrown with astonishing speed. The strands stuck to the body of the goblin, who, bewildered, tried to free himself. He cut one, two, three, but the walls kept throwing up shiny silk that clung to him tenaciously.
It was like a scene out of an action movie.
The goblin moved with fierce agility, slashing and dodging, whirling like a storm of blades. But it would not stop. It was not exhausted.
I had to come up with something else. Something I couldn't cut.
I knew immediately.
I thought about turning on the kitchen faucet.
And huge jets of water began to flow, flooding my ankles. The liquid moved in front of me, swirling until it formed a large transparent sphere.
The goblin continued to resist, wrapped in a sea of cobwebs.
The sphere floated... and shot toward his head.
The impact was perfect.
The sphere stuck to his face, sealing him inside. Bewildered, the goblin began to shake violently. More cobwebs shot out from the walls, wrapping around his body, immobilizing him.
He was trying to tear off the water bubble, but his movements were getting clumsier and clumsier. Still, it looked at me. With eyes that didn't exist, but whose thirst for blood pierced the barrier of the physical. I felt my back bristle. I almost lost my concentration.
But I reminded myself, silently:
This is a dream.
The creature finally stopped moving. Its body tensed, then broke apart into tiny golden sparks, like stardust falling in slow motion.
A white glow flooded my vision.
Then, a voice rang in my head. Cold, metallic, artificial.
[Congratulations! You have eliminated a Body Goblin!]
[Individual eligible to enter the Rift, best of luck!]