Dreaming Dark

Dreaming Dark

by Barbara Griffin Villemez

Copyright © 2012 Barbara Griffin Villemez

978-1-4507-9916-4

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover design by Laura Shinn.

Acknowledgments

I would like to acknowledge the help, critique and encouragement that I received from my writer's group, John Duncklee, Penny Duncklee, Gerry Otis, Koro Meyers and Sonia Segura. We call Penny The Comma Mama as she is the one who makes sure that our punctuation is correct. I would also like to thank my husband, Clare, for his encouragement and love during the process of writing this story. He had to put up with my spending long hours at the computer, late dinners. and last minute laundry.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Historical Notes

About the Author

Prologue

Southwest coast of Anatolia 1558 BCE

She awoke, lay still and listened, as if some strange unaccustomed sound had penetrated her consciousness. It was quiet, but she felt a sense of uneasiness. She strained to listen and to see in the darkness of the hut. Careful not to awaken the others she arose from her pallet and moved to the entrance. Pulling aside the rough, woven, fabric she peered out into the village. All seemed quiet and peaceful, just the soothing sound of the surf rolling onto the beach. But the sense of uneasiness persisted. There! She saw movement by the huts closest to the beach. With a sense of urgency she moved back into the darkness and leaned over her father. Father, wake up. She shook his arm. He opened his eyes and started to protest and she placed her hand over his mouth. He saw his daughter’s face close to his, eyes wide with fear. She whispered. Father, there’s men on the beach. I fear it’s the slave traders.

Arising from his pallet he moved to the entrance and looked out. The moon was behind the clouds, but he could see the outline of men creeping up from the beach toward the village. Returning to the sleeping area he aroused his wife and older daughter. With his finger to his lips he indicated for them to be quiet and to gather some belongings. He looked around for his weapon then beckoned his wife and daughters to slip out of the hut.

Hurry, run to the forest. I’ll awaken the village.

The village was a typical coastal community in Anatolia. The people fished, hunted and traded with other villages. They tended small crops and had a few animals. They spoke a Luvian dialect related to the Hittites further east. There were thirty huts placed in a semi-circle, enough distance from the beach to account for tidal changes. Inland beyond the village was a vast forest.

The two girls and their mother started for the forest when their father let out a cry. Their mother looked back and saw her husband fending off two attackers. She turned to the girls and said, Run, I must help your father. Confused the two girls stood and watched their mother run to their father’s aid. The older of the girls saw her mother fall beneath the blow of a sword and ran to help her. She too was cut down. Little Kyra stood frozen unable to move or cry out as she watched the three people she most loved die at the hands of the attackers.

The village was torched and the people who were left alive were rounded up and shackled, ten year old Kyra among them. Many of the villagers were pale skinned, with red or blonde hair and green or blue eyes. It was told in their stories that their people had come from far away and had scattered in small groups over the land. Because of their hair, eyes and skin color, they were prized by the darker skinned people as slaves, concubines and priestesses. Their stories tell that they were originally from the tribe of Dann, the red-haired people of pre-history.

Kyra, dazed and frightened stumbled in the line of villagers being put in the open boat and fell to her knees. Picked up by one of the raiders he exclaimed on her youthful beauty.

You, my little pretty will fetch a high price. We can sell you to the priests on Knossos. They’re always looking for red haired beauty for their priestesses. He placed her in the open boat close to the front with the other young women. Huddled in the corner she began to shake and cry. One of the women shifted her position so she could hold Kyra and they both sobbed into the pale dawning of a new day.

Several of the raiders pushed the boat into the sea then clambered up the sides on ropes while others put the oars in the water and began rowing. When they were far enough out they hoisted the one sail. The wind caught the sail and the boat skimmed over the sea carrying their frightened captives to a fate they knew not what or where.

Chapter One

Dallas, Texas Present Time

The pair, gagged and blindfolded, knelt on the cement floor, hands tied behind their backs, heads bowed, the woman silently weeping the man stoic. Candles in wall sconces cast flickering shadows on the assembled group of brown robed and hooded figures encircling the couple. A figure in black stood behind the two.

The woman trembled, drew in a deep breath and let out a low sob. The black robed figure leaned toward the couple, drawing a large ornate dagger from beneath his robe. Candlelight glinted on the silver blade as he slashed down between the woman’s shoulders. She fell, face forward onto the cement floor, her body jerking spasmodically, muffled screams coming through the gag. He turned and swiftly thrust the bloody blade in the man’s back. The wounded man arched, gasping and fell forward, his body quivered then lay still. The black robed figure, stepped back, turned, and quickly left the room.

The others hesitated, then moved as one with drawn daggers toward the wounded couple and methodically began stabbing them. The sound of the knives hitting the bodies over and over echoed in the cavernous space. Finished with their grisly task, they shed their blood-soaked robes, throwing them in to the open door of the gas fired crematory, and they too hurriedly left the room.

The smoke from the candles mingled with the sickening sweet smell of freshly drawn blood. The bodies, unrecognizable, lay in a heap, warm blood congealing on the dank floor, the silent shadows, the only witness to the horror.

Cate awoke with a start and sat up in bed. She brushed her hair from her face and exclaimed. My God, what an awful dream! She lay back and thought. Why did I dream such a horrible dream? It was so clear, as if I was there. I hope this isn’t one of those crazy premonitions. Cate had a gift, which she called a curse, of being able to dream of events past and present. This was inherited from her grandmother. Her mother also had psychic gifts, albeit a different kind. Cate was embarrassed by the abilities in her family and kept them as secret as possible.

She lay in bed thinking of the demands of her day. She had been referred a new patient from a friend who was an ER psychiatrist at Parkland Hospital. From the conversation she’d had with the psychiatrist this could be a difficult patient.

She thought. I’d better get up and get dressed. This could be a long day. Hopefully Jane faxed the information that I need this morning. She sat up and looked over the side of the bed and gingerly stepped on the carpet. JR, her cat, had been leaving little presents for her by the side of the bed lately. Yesterday she had stepped on a dead rat. Obviously JR didn’t think she was getting enough protein.

Cate showered, dressed, fed JR and grabbed a muffin on her way out the door. As she backed out of the driveway she noticed the leaves on the trees had turned golden and a carpet of red and gold lay over the driveway. She shook her head.

I cannot believe it’s the first of November already. What happened to summer?

Catelyn O’Connor, psychologist, had moved to Dallas from the east coast after her divorce. Her ten year marriage to her college sweetheart had produced no children and they gradually drifted apart as they pursued their own agendas The divorce was amicable and when she was accepted to the PhD program at the University of Texas, she decided that she would make Dallas her home. It was a good move and over the years she had developed a successful psychotherapy practice.

Her office suite was located in a complex of individual one story buildings separated by landscaped courtyards. It consisted of a reception area, two offices, small kitchen and a powder room. She saw individual patients in the smaller office and held group sessions in the larger one. Cate had hired a young Chinese woman to Feng Shui the offices. Elaine Wu made a few changes and Cate was happy with the space. The energy felt good and she enjoyed being in the office. Her practice was primarily women, though occasionally she saw men and adolescents.

Cate unlocked the door, stepped in and turned off the security system. She started a pot of coffee and checked the fax machine. Ah, here’s the patient’s file. She gathered up the papers, poured a cup of coffee and went into her office.

Cate sipped her coffee as she read over the file. This is pretty horrific. The patient’s inability to remember is certainly understandable, especially if she witnessed the murder. She sat back in her chair and remembered the dream that woke her this morning.

Cate’s intuitive abilities appeared in the form of dreams or visions. She rarely talked about this ability as she didn’t think people would understand. She discovered that her grandmother also had dreams and visions when they both had the same vision early on a Sunday morning. She was ten years old and had awakened from a disturbing dream of a neighbor falling from a large hayrack in a barn. Cate overheard her grandmother talking to her mother, telling her mother that she had to go and hoping it was not too late. Cate, still sleepy eyed, walked into her mother’s bedroom and said, Mom, is grandma going to help the old man who fell from the hayrack? Both turned in surprise to see her. Her mother smiled and said to her grandmother, Well, Bessie, I guess she’s taking after you.

Cate finished reading the file. She looked thoughtful. This certainly dovetails with what I saw in the dream. The difference is that I have more details. I can’t tell the police about the dream. They’d just laugh at me and think I’m nuts. She finished her coffee and sat back thinking of how she would approach this case when she heard the sound of the bell as the door opened and closed. She went into the reception area.

Hello, you must be Sherry Anderson. Cate held out her hand and said. I’m Dr. O’Conner.

Sherry took Cates hand and said. I’m sorry that I’m early. I wasn’t sure if I could find the place, but it was easy. Dr. Allen gave good directions.

Cate noted the physical appearance and features of the woman. Sherry was tall, broad shoulders and a little husky, with light brown, shoulder length hair and brown eyes. Her face was pale and would have been pretty if it had more regular features. Her nose appeared to have been broken at one time and not properly fixed. There was something about the young woman that seemed familiar.

That’s okay. I was just going over your file. Dr. Allen faxed it this morning. Come on back to the office. They started down the hall, when Cate turned to Sherry. Would you like a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot.

Yes, I would. I didn’t stop at Starbucks, I was afraid I’d be late.

Cate led Sherry into the kitchen. She poured the coffee and a second one for herself. She pointed out the cream and sugar.

Thanks, but I take mine black.

Sherry followed Cate into the office and Cate gestured toward two overstuffed chairs arranged in a corner of the room. The patient sat in one and Cate sat in the opposite chair.

Dr. Allen was pretty thorough in her notes, but I’d like to hear what you remember the night you were found by the police.

I don’t remember anything of what happened that night. I woke up in the hospital and couldn’t remember my name. There was a set of keys in my pocket and I understand that’s how the police eventually identified me. It was several days before the maid found my parents in the basement of their funeral home. My car was in the driveway with my purse and jacket. They identified me with the picture on my driver’s license. The police theorize that I either discovered the bodies, or maybe witnessed the murder. They think I was in shock, ran out and just kept running until I collapsed. They found me in an alley about three miles from the funeral home. Her hand trembled as she took a sip of her coffee then put the cup on the table separating the two chairs.

It must have been quite horrible for you. When did you remember your name?

It was after the police showed me the driver’s license. Seeing the license jogged my memory enough so I knew who I was, but I still don’t remember anything significant before I woke up in the hospital. Everything about that night is a blank. I can tell you in detail everything I did the day before I was found, but I’ve tried many times and can’t remember the day, or the night that I was found. Dr. Allen told me that my subconscious was protecting me by not allowing me to remember. She said you were an expert on this kind of stuff and would help me.

Besides being a psychologist I also use a limited amount of hypnosis in my work. That’s why Dr. Allen referred you. Sometimes hypnosis can help joggle the subconscious to give up its secrets. Dr. Allen would like me to use this technique to help you remember the lost time.

It sounds kind of scary. I don’t think I like the idea of my subconscious giving up secrets, though I don’t think I have much in secrets to give up. I live a pretty mundane life. Sherry looked away from Cate and examined the room.

There’s something about this young woman that disturbs me. She seems so familiar. Yes, it can seem scary, but you’ll be in a light trance and you’ll be an observer of the scene, not a participant. I’m sure that you’ve experienced the sensation of being awake, but also half asleep? Like, just before you drop off to sleep, your body is kind of heavy and your mind is drifting. This is what it will be like, at least for most people. Sherry nodded her head. There’ll be a mechanism in place that will allow you to come quickly awake if the scene is too scary for you.

Are you going to do this today?

No, but we’ll try some simple visualization. This will help me to know what techniques to use. Is it alright that I lay my hand over yours? Sherry nodded and Cate let her hand rest on Sherry’s hand for a moment then withdrew it.

The chair you’re sitting in is also a recliner. There’s a handle on the side. Pull it up and the chair will recline. Lean back and take some deep breaths. Cate paused while Sherry adjusted herself in the chair and began breathing rhythmically. Now, I’d like you to close your eyes and allow your body to relax and your mind to quiet. Speaking softly Cate asks Sherry to allow a picture to form in her mind. I’d like you to see yourself in a lovely meadow. It doesn’t matter what the meadow looks like, just allow it to look like whatever you know a meadow looks like. Now in this meadow is a large old tree with a bench beneath the tree. Can you see the meadow and the tree? Nod your head if you can see this or sense it. Sherry nods her head. Sit on the bench under the tree. It’s pleasant here. Now look around and then up, you’ll notice a leaf falling. It’s falling in slow motion, floating down, down, down. As it floats down, you float down, feeling very relaxed and very safe. You’re feeling so relaxed, that your right foot has fallen asleep. You shake it, but can’t seem to lift it off the ground. Try to lift your foot Sherry. Sherry struggled to lift her foot. In trance Sherry’s eyelids fluttered and her foot moved back and forth. It’s okay. You’ll be able to lift your foot when I snap my fingers. Cate snaps her fingers and Sherry, in trance, lifts her foot off the recliner. Now your left foot has become heavy and you can’t lift it, but you’ll be able to lift it when I snap my fingers. You won’t remember these instructions, until I snap my fingers. Just nod your head if you understand. Sherry nods her head.

Cate brings Sherry out of hypnosis. How do you feel?

Sherry blinks her eyes and shakes her head. I feel relaxed.

If you push on the footrest the back of the recliner will come up.

Sherry brought the recliner into a sitting position. Wow, my foot feels like it’s asleep.

Can you lift your foot?

Sherry tries to lift her left foot. No, I can’t.

Cate snaps her fingers. Now try.

Sherry easily lifts her foot. You did that didn’t you? Cool! I remember now, you said my foot would be okay when you snapped your fingers.

It’s a technique I use to see how easily one can slip into a light trance. It works on most people. Cate glanced at her watch. I think we’ve done enough for today. I’d like to see you twice a week, at least until we’ve removed the barriers on your memory. Will that be a problem?

No, I have to get a lot of paperwork ready for the lawyers, but I worked part time for my parents and know where most of it is. What I can’t find I’m sure our accountant has copies. I’d like the will probated as soon as possible, so I can sell the funeral home. I don’t have any siblings or other close relatives. Our family lawyer tells me that there shouldn’t be a problem selling the funeral home, as all assets were left to me. I still have to make calls to the vendors and close down certain aspects of the operation. Dad’s assistant, Jim Hudson, can help me do most of that. He may even want to buy the place. At least I think he’s been hinting. So, yes, I’ll be busy, but no, there won’t be a problem seeing you twice a week.

Good. Cate moved to her desk and opened her appointment book. I have an opening at four on Wednesday and one at three on Friday. Will that work for you?

Yeah, I have to meet with the lawyers on Thursday, so the times and days will work this week.

Cate walked Sherry to the front door. I’ll see you on Wednesday. Sherry nodded and waved as she walked to her car.

Cate watched her leave, turned to shut the door, when she noticed a black Mercedes idling in the middle of two parking spaces. The driver’s side window lowered and a dark haired man watched Sherry walk to her car. He turned his head and looked at Cate. She stepped back from the door with a feeling of unease.

Cate closed the door and went back to her office. Monday was set aside for new patients and paperwork. Sherry was the first of two new patients for the day. She noted the session in Sherry’s file and that she appeared to be a good candidate for hypnosis then went back to the reception area and locked the front door. Checking her pager she turned it off along with her cell phone. The room she used for group therapy was furnished in soft blues and greens. There was a sofa and several upholstered pieces. In the middle of the room ten folding chairs were in a circle. A large cabinet against one wall held all the tools she used for her groups. Cate had touched Sherry’s hand for a reason. She had picked up a form of energy that emanated from the client that allowed her to read the woman’s energy field. It was a method that she used when she knew the person may be difficult. Cate took a fleece throw and a pillow from the cabinet and lay down on the sofa. Closing her eyes she envisioned her hand on Sherry’s hand. Her breathing became rhythmic and deep.

At first what appeared before her closed eyes was a swirl of dark energy. Patterns of black, brown and red swirls gave way to an intense feeling of anger and despair. The feelings slowly dissolved and a scene formed in her mind. She was in an alley in Dallas. As she turned to look at her surroundings she noticed several buildings on the skyline that she recognized. This is not a nice area of town. A light rain was falling. She walked further into the alley and noticed the body lying on the cement. It was Sherry. The body lay curled in a fetal position, hands tucked under the chin. The November night peppered the body with a cold, wet spray. Sherry shivered and every few minutes jerked as if from a blow. Lights flashed on the body lying on the cement. Sherry’s eyes opened. Panicked, they swiveled from side to side like a frightened animal.

Cate moved back as the patrol car drove slowly into the alley and stopped. The cop on the passenger side got out and approached the figure cautiously. He bent down and motioned for the driver to come closer. Kneeling, he took a flashlight from his back pocket and shined it on her face. Wide, frightened eyes stared up at him then closed tightly. He leaned closer. Miss, are you hurt?

The driver got out of the patrol car and looked down on the woman. What do you think we’ve got here, Jerry? Is she hurt?

I think she’s in shock. Call the paramedics.

The driver returned to the patrol car and made the call as Jerry played the flashlight around the body. Jesus, she’s got to be freezing. No coat, no shoes.

Jerry turned to his partner and called out. "Hey Steve, get that blanket from