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Next Chapter Last Chapter Nikola's Nightmares Home
Chapter 24: Nikola Talks About the Break-in"Somebody broke into my apartment last night," Nikola told Eddie when she called later that day. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine. The whole thing was really weird, though." "And you didn't even have a lock, did you?" "No I didn't, but how could he have known?" "One of the locksmiths you called?" "I recognized him." "From where?" "A dream." "One of your nightmares?"
"Yes. It was very spooky. I mean, things from my life have often entered my nightmares,
b "What was he doing in the nightmare?" "Chasing me. I think I've seen him in other dreams too, also chasing me. He never catches me, just chases." "What do you think it means?" "I don't know. I've been thinking about that a lot. I must have seen him before. Otherwise, how could he have gotten into my dreams? But where? And what was he doing in my apartment last night?" "Did he get anything?" "No. I don't think he was here to steal. I actually had the impression that he wanted to destroy my paintings. He was facing one of them with a raised knife. I was sure he was going to slice it, but he saw us behind him before he had a chance." "That's pretty weird. Why would anyone want to destroy your paintings? And who's us?" "Greg was here, and I'm really glad he was, because I don't know what I would have done without him. When the intruder turned around, he saw Greg and they started fighting. Greg finally got the knife away from him. He was a big guy too. Kind of scary looking. When I saw him, I was sure I recognized him, but now that I think back, I'm not so sure. Something was different, and, to tell you the truth, I never get a really good look at any of the faces in my dreams, so it's so hard to tell... But those eyes... Big, dark and intense... And his expression... Like pure hate... Unadulterated by any compassion, or even intelligence... No, I must have been seeing things. He looks that way in my dreams, but, it doesn't seem possible. Maybe I was seeing things. Oh, Eddie, it was so frightening, a dream coming to life like that... It was awful." "I'm sorry, Nikola, are you okay?" "Yeah. I'm fine. It was just disconcerting, that's all. I only got a quick look at him as he was running out. I suppose my imagination could have filled in part of it, I don't know." "Wow. You've had quite an evening. Did you call the police?" "Yes, finally I did, after arguing with Greg about it for almost an hour." "Why?" "He didn't want me to call them. I'm not sure why. He said they would just take all the clues, and not do anything about it. I guess he was talking about the knife, it's the only tangible clue and kind of unusual. It looked really old, made of silver, and had very intricate carvings on the handle and the lower part of the blade. It was rather long for a carved knife, too. It surprised me."
"You told me he was an investigative journalist once. Maybe he wanted to investigate it on his own." "Then he should have come out and said that. He was being so evasive last night. It gave me the impression he wanted to avoid the police. Like he's on bad terms with them or something. Or maybe he was lying about being a part of it, or is wanted by them. But he hung out when they came, and was very calm and collected with them, answered all their questions... I don't know... I mean, I really like him, but..." "Did you guys sleep together last night?" "Yes, we did." "How was it?" "Nice. At the time, I enjoyed it. I probably would have enjoyed it more if I'd had a little less to drink, but it was good. He was very gentle. I'm really attracted to him, but sometimes I feel as if there's nothing there. We're like strangers half the time." "Well, you've only seen him a few times..." "Yeah, I know, but I've seen enough of him to know more about him than I do. For all I know he could be married with six kids." Eddie laughed at the suggestion. "I don't think so Nikola, he doesn't seem the type. Did you ever get your lock fixed?" "Yes. They came this morning. Greg even paid for it." "He should. He broke it." "Neither of us got any sleep after the burglar left. Even if we hadn't been so stressed, the police didn't come until two hours later, so by the time they left it was beginning to get light already. He bought me breakfast, and then we got the lock fixed. But I'm pretty beat now." "Aren't you afraid to stay in that apartment alone? You know you're more than welcome to stay here if you want." "I'm a little bit spooked, but I've got to face it - I can't just run away. I have to live here after all." "Of course you're right, but it only happened last night. I don't know if I would be so brave." "If that guy is out to kill me or something, there isn't much I can do about it. I can't hide out for the rest of my life. I'm determined not to let this get to me." Nikola didn't feel as brave as she tried to sound.
"Well if you ever want me there or anything, just call." "Thanks." Nikola started feeling tired shortly after she and Eddie finished their phone conversation. Although it was dark outside, it was still early for her bedtime, but the last two days had taken their toll on her. Nikola engaged her new lock carefully, checking it several times before she was satisfied. She still wasn't entirely comfortable in the apartment, even with the new lock securely fastened. She couldn't forget the break-in, and part of her was waiting for the intruder to try again. The way he went for her paintings, and the possibility that she recognized him, indicated that it was not a random intrusion and that she was his specific target. But why? And what did he want? Or, most importantly, would he be back? She missed Greg already, but, at the same time, scolded herself for getting dependent on him. She liked her independence, and didn't want anything to interfere with it now. In addition, she only planned to stay in the country for one year, it was not a good time to start a relationship. She looked around the cavernous apartment and tried to decide what to do next. She still felt the intruder's presence, as if he had snuck back in during the day, but she knew that wasn't possible. Nevertheless, she constantly thought she was seeing movement out of the corners of her eyes. When she turned her head towards the perceived movement, there was nothing out of the ordinary, only her usual untidy assortment of art materials and nightmare paintings. She slipped out of her clothes and into a nightshirt. Between Greg's break-in and the intruder, she hesitated to sleep in the nude. Despite what she told Eddie, she felt painfully vulnerable. She decided to leave a light on this evening, in the far corner of the studio. The single incandescent bulb provided just enough light to see throughout the apartment. It cast a yellow glow over everything and filled the corners with shadows, but it made Nikola feel more secure. She climbed into bed and pulled the covers around her. She felt a chill despite the warmth in the apartment and her heavy blankets. She stared at the light from the main room flowing into her bedroom door, her mind racing with the events of the past two days. Despite her exhaustion, she had trouble falling asleep. She didn't really feel safe enough to sleep. Her nerves tensed and her body poised for action with every sound in the apartment. When she realized that they were just noises made by her downstairs neighbors, she tried to force her muscles to relax, but the tension remained. She wondered if she would ever fall asleep, or if the rest of her stay in New York would be like this: watching and waiting for something terrible to happen. Much later, Nikola thought she heard the sound of footsteps coming from the studio. She opened her eyes and listened closely, surprised to see that her apartment was completely dark. What happened to the light I left on in the studio? The noises continued - she could clearly distinguish the sound of things being moved around, as well as continued footsteps. She panicked. She looked around the bedroom, and wished once again that Greg were with her. But he wasn't - she would have to deal with this one alone.
She got out of bed and tip-toed over to the doorway separating the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. Her eyes were well adjusted to the dark, and she could easily make out the familiar shapes of her studio. It didn't take her long to spot the intruder - a short thin figure, clad in black, standing in front of the new paintings. The intruder's back faced Nikola, and the intruder seemed unaware of her presence. She examined the figure more closely, and was surprised to discern a female physique. Just as she realized this, she saw the glint of a knife blade raised above the intruder's head. Before she could react, the intruder completed the gesture and she heard the sound of the blade ripping through the canvas, tearing it in half. Nikola screamed. The intruder laughed at Nikola's distress. It was a cruel, sharp, staccato sound, more like barks than laughs, with malicious undertones. Nikola looked beyond the intruder to the paintings behind her, and saw red. All the new paintings were completely destroyed - slashed with multiple cuts, making the original images unrecognizable. When Nikola saw that she let out a strangled yelp - a combination of sob and scream - she had to grab the door frame for support. Before Nikola even had time to wonder about the intruders motivations, another crazed malicious laugh emitted from the figure and she spun around, revealing her face. Nikola was stunned to see Martha's face on the intruder. Martha had an evil glint in her eye and a sinister grin. She held the knife in front of her poised to strike again, and Nikola could see paint smeared on the blade. The paint stains looked like blood, and, as far as Nikola was concerned, the stains may as well be blood - her own blood. She felt violated, as if it had been her own body that was cut into and brutalized. Nikola continued screaming - continuously and with all her might. The next thing she knew, she found herself in a heap on the floor in the doorway to her bedroom, sobbing. Martha was gone. The light she had left on was blazing away at the other end of the studio, coloring the space with its weak yellow rays. She jumped up and checked her paintings. Much to her relief, they were all intact. She realized that what she had just seen could only have been another nightmare, and she wondered how she got to where she had been lying - she had never known herself to sleepwalk before. She found that very disturbing, almost as much as the nightmare itself. She looked back up at her paintings, and wondered why she thought it so important to save these distorted images of torture. And what did tonight's nightmare mean? It seemed to be just the memory of the intruder mixed in with her suspicions about Martha. She wondered if there really was anything to learn in the past nightmares which she had taken such care to illustrate accurately. Now she couldn't help but consider the possibility that they were just products of her twisted imagination and wondered if she really wouldn't be better off just forgetting them. Next Chapter Last Chapter Nikola's Nightmares Home ClaudiaM Home
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