Weaver of Dreams Read Online Free Page A

His hand brushed at the illusory insects, nails dug into his skin to ease the burning, itchy sensation.
    The stalker couldn’t get enough of the negative energy. The amount of emotion he needed to feed on increased with each visit, demanding that he feed longer each time to achieve the same euphoria. And he knew that each nightmare drove the human further toward the edge of reality and tolerance, until soon she would fall over the precipice into darkness.
    But he would go insane if the physical feeling continued much longer. And between the two of them, he only cared about himself. Luckily, he knew how to ease his suffering. Knew how to make the beasties disappear.
    Amnon approached the bed on silent feet. How innocent she looked in sleep. So peaceful. A shame he needed to shatter her peace in order to find some for himself. But such was the way of life, he supposed.
    He sat on the bed. The mattress sank a little under his weight and the human stirred. Laying his hand on her forehead, he sent his magick out through his palm. It bathed her face in a white light as she stilled.
    He closed his eyes in concentration, and pushed into her mind.
    She dreamt of a tree house, tucked up in a tree in the middle of a rainforest. The air surrounding them felt hot and sticky. The heavy humidity clung to his skin. Not exactly his kind of place, but he would make due for it was much easier to go with what the humans already dreamed than to completely change their direction. Changing a dream took time and energy and he couldn’t afford to waste either. . .
    He watched through the window of her tree house, as she went about her day. She swept the floor. Such a mundane task. Why did she even bother?
    Her reddish hair swayed in time to the movement of her arms. A slight sweat broke out on her forehead. What kind of a woman dreamed of doing household chores? You would think she might dream something more fun.
    He didn’t care, though. Soon she would have more fun than she could handle.
    She began to whistle, the tune light and childlike. A lullaby, perhaps. The melody grated on his frayed nerves, combining with the stabbing sensations and crawling bugs to irritate his brain. His head began to pound.
    The stalker took a moment to clear his mind of the uncomfortable physical sensations and focused his attention on the surrounding forest. One by one a dozen large jaguars appeared on the thick jungle ground before him. He elongated their teeth, made them too large for their mouths. Forced to hang open to accommodate the extended teeth, the beasts’ mouths showed their fangs in a prominent display. The saliva dripping from their lips made an especially grotesque addition, he decided. It was similar to what he had done with the wolves the other night, but hey, when something worked you stuck with it. Right?
    Not to mention that in his condition, he didn’t have the mental energy to come up with anything new right now. He just needed to create fear within her quickly so he’d get the fix he’d come for.
    He sent the wild beasts up the tree. The lead cat’s mighty roar echoed off the surrounding trees.
    Nice touch. A sadistic smile took his face.
    The sound drew the attention of the woman. She glanced out the door of the home. The look of terror that marred her expression sent hope surging through his blood. Here it came. The moment he longed for. Anticipation crawled along his flesh.
    Her fear hit him with enough force it rocked his body when she let out a scream. He watched from below as she turned to flee. Running through the small, hut-like home, she jumped from the dwelling with a mighty leap only possible in dreams.
    Impressive , he thought, watching the jump. Most humans would have let physical parameters limit their dreams. But not her. She was different, special, which happened to be one of the reasons he found her so addictive. She took her dreams where others dared not and in doing so provided unlimited potential for him to use.
    He