The Dreamwolf

Elias’s eyes gently shut as he lay in his bed, surrendering to the sleep that was taking him. He really did count sheep; many have heard of the method but Elias practiced it regularly. Instead of sheep he count his own breathing – inhale, hold, exhale, one; inhale, hold, exhale, two. And the relaxation of slow breaths calmed him, that he more often than not couldn’t even count past ten. And after counting his breath, on the seventh count, Elias drifted asleep.

Elias was walking through a city, down a wide road without a single vehicle on it. The road was completely flat and the buildings obstructed his surroundings, disorienting his sense of direction. The sky was an even blue coat of pale light and cloudless. He didn’t see another person either. Elias was in a dream, and like most he was unaware that he was in one. The setting of his dream was like an expensive movie set: the buildings were tall but clean, the road pavement was smooth and black, but the environment was still. There were no cars, no people, and the air hung in an eerie silence. Elias continued to walk forward.

Like many people have experienced, his dream was already established in his subconscious. He knew where he was going and what he was doing, even though at this moment he couldn’t explain any of those things. Elias continued to walk. He found himself looking between each building. It was peculiar, but he reasoned quickly that he must be looking for something. Perhaps another person, he thought.

As Elias walked in his dream, he heard a grumbling sound to his left. The grumbling became a growl, and the growl came closer. Elias realized that he was not looking for something but running from something. From between two buildings a clawed paw with dark grey fur emerged, clacking against the pavement. A second paw followed and the snout of a demonic wolf snarled at Elias. Its nose was as long as an aardvark yet filled end to end with sharp canines. The wolf crawled out and revealed its long torso, which strangely stretched longer than a normal wolf’s should. Its tail dragged on the floor and was half the length of the wolf.

The wolf hunched its shoulder blades and lowered its head as it growled deep, staring directly at Elias with red eyes. Elias quickly turned and sprinting down the road. As he took his strides, his legs felt like they were pushing through heavy air, making it incredibly difficult to run. It took all his energy to move forward, like treading through water. He swung his fists in motion with his strides but he couldn’t gain any speed while he ran. He dared to look behind him. The wolf was galloping with a fluid rotation; its hind legs cutting through the air at electric speed. Elias faced the front and tried even harder to run but he couldn’t pick up any speed. He heard the snarling of the wolf behind him; he heard the salivation foaming through its teeth. He felt the wolf breathing on his neck, hot and foul.

Elias jolted awake. He dried his sideburns from sweat with his palms. He took a long sigh. It was all in his head, he told himself. It was just a dream.

Elias sat on his balcony in his apartment. The balcony was shaded by a tall palm tree under the infamous southern Californian sun. He had to his left on his wood table a plate with egg yolk spread across and crumbs of toast stuck in the yolk. He picked up a mug by the handle and took a sip and lukewarm coffee, placing it back down beside the plate. In front of him was a laptop. On that laptop was a word document open. On that word document was a novel he was writing. He watched the cursor blink at the end of a sentence, like it was patronizing him for not coming up with more. Blink, blink. “That’s all you’ve got?” Blink, blink.

As a writer Elias had crafted his own ritual to help ease into a creative state and to stay disciplined once he reached it: he made breakfast and made two cups of coffee in the pot so he could enjoy one with breakfast and one while he wrote, and he wrote every morning on his balcony between eight and ten in the morning. On this morning he was supposed to finish what was supposed to be the final draft of his very first novel. He was on the last paragraph. He knew what he wanted to write. The words had already formed in his mind. But instead Elias pondered his nightmare from last night. He thought of his loneliness in the deserted city and the wolf that chased him endlessly until he woke up. It scared him, as any nightmare would, but it didn’t startle him like a ghost or monster would because it didn’t feel outlandish; he couldn’t dismiss it as simply a bad dream.

Elias looked at the bottom right of his laptop screen and saw the time ticking away. 9:34am. He repressed the nightmare and stared at the blinking cursor that challenged him to be better, to think of a grander word, a more poetic description, a better idea. To be a better writer, Elias.

Elias finished the paragraph and leaned back in his wood chair, soaking in his accomplishment. He finished his novel. He felt proud of himself. He saved the document and re-read the paragraph, then re-read the previous paragraph for context, then he decided to jump back to the start and read the first paragraph of the story, and then he jumped around to his favorite parts and admired his work. There was a great sense of accomplishment that filled his heart. He emailed this, hopefully, final draft of his very first novel to his manager.

During the day Elias’s phone chirped as an incoming email arrived. He opened it and saw his manager responded. The subject line read “That’s it!” He opened the email and read that his manager believed his novel was finished and that she was so proud of him. She told him now it was time to publish it. A wave of joy and relief swept over him. He had finished his novel and was one step closer to realizing his dream of being a writer. But a second wave of emotion overtook the joy, and it was doubt. The fears of judgment and criticism washed over him like a pile of debris. What if people think it’s bad? What if people think I’m not good? What if my manager is lying to me? Even further, he thought to himself that perhaps this novel would be received well but he could never be this good again. The worry crippled him.

That night Elias rested his head on his pillow. His eyes slowly closed and he counted his breathing. Inhale, hold, exhale, one. He counted to fifteen, much higher than he could normally. And then he fell asleep.

Elias found himself in a dream, though he didn’t know he was in a dream, and saw himself wandering outside his own apartment on the sidewalk. He could see his complex just a few blocks away. But as he walked he felt a great sense of danger and looked around. Elias turned around and saw far in the distance was the same wolf that haunted his dream before. Elias faced forward and ran – once again he could barely pick up his feet, trying to escape but stuck in the weight of the world. He looked over his shoulder and saw the wolf had covered an impossible distance and was galloping straight after him. Elias whipped his head back around and kept running.

He crossed one block and looked up at his own balcony. He had just one more block to run, but his legs couldn’t take a stride quick enough. He looked back and saw the wolf was right behind him, growling and snarling viciously. Elias pushed with all his might to escape but he couldn’t. Hot breath singed neck.

Elias shot awake. Drenched in sweat. Catching his breath. He rubbed his face and tried to calm himself down. He took a deep breath in. It was all in his head, he told himself. It was just a dream.

Weeks passed. Elias’s phone chirped with a new email. The subject line read “Publication Update.” He dreaded opening it. His manager explained that after a few strings pulled and some expensive lunches she managed to get someone to agree on publishing his novel! He couldn’t believe it. It was really happening. Elias clasped his forehead and smiled wide – his dream was coming true. But just as it had in the past, doubt rushed in his thoughts like it was waiting for a queue. Now they’ll all read your story and what if they don’t like it? It’s too late now to make changes. The anxiety crippled him and left him sweating on his couch with sudden dread from the news. He was expressing himself artistically and the world would judge him.

Elias’s eyes shut. He counted his breath. Inhale, hold, exhale, twenty-nine. Elias’s dream took place in his apartment. He was standing by the door and staring at the doorknob. He waited patiently, expecting it to turn. The doorknob twisted slowly. The latch bolt slid inside the frame. The door creaked open. A clawed paw stepped in. The wolf entered his home, snarling with hot saliva dripping off its long snout. Elias stepped back in fear, watching the long body of the nightmarish wolf completely enter his home. It growled at him with bloodshot eyes. There was no escape. Elias waited anxiously for the wolf to lung, but it stayed still growling. The wolf stared at him and made terrifying noises, yet it didn't attack. Suddenly, his nerves seemed to calm down. The wolf didn’t attack, it just wanted to frighten him. Elias examined the fearsome canines that filled its mouth and realized they weren’t going to bite him. The wolf barked a demonic roar, and Elias jumped back and fell over. He picked himself up and saw that still the wolf didn’t attack him. The wolf barked again but Elias didn’t fall over this time. It dawned on Elias that the wolf couldn’t hurt him.

He mustered to courage to take a step forward towards the wolf, believing in his theory – and it worked. The wolf took an equal step away from him. Elias took a step forward, the wolf took a step back. Elias found himself walking confidently and quickly towards the wolf, which was hopping away as fast as Elias was chasing it. Elias drove the wolf out of his apartment and then shut the door, locking the bolt.

Elias awoke. Calm. Cool. Peaceful. He looked up at his ceiling in the darkness and thought about his novel and all the people that would read it. He thought about the people closest to him that would tell them how they honestly liked it. He realized the doubts and worries only scared him but couldn’t hurt him. He took a deep sigh. It was all in his head, he told himself. He shut eyes. Inhale, hold, exhale, one. Asleep.