The nightmares were getting worse, the same one playing itself over and over again in his dreams, so much so that he could pretty much guess what was going to happen, before it happened. Cameron just wanted one night of undisturbed sleep. Waking up at exactly 2:57 every morning, wasn't his idea of an early start to the day. The reoccurring dream was always set in a place that Cameron thought he should recognise, but couldn't quite place it in his mind.
He always started in the same room; a bright white floor, white walls and a white ceiling. The only other colour in the room was the brown chair he was sat in. Even he was wearing what looked like white hospital gowns. Usually by this point, he would somehow know that he didn't get dressed in them himself.
The camouflaged door would open, bright light shining into the room and blinding him, his eyes only seeing the silhouette of what appeared to be a woman. He also thought that this woman looked familiar too, but yet again, his mind couldn't place her anywhere.
He rolled over after glancing at the clock to go back to sleep, even though he knew that he was going to have the same dream again. And he was right; she walked into the room, directly in front of him, he first thought that it was to hide her face but she would then move to the side of him and kneel down so that he could see her; long black hair that fell in waves, crystal blue eyes that had a certain sparkle to them, a pale complexion which made her look beautiful in his mind. She smiled innocently at him before her hand quickly swiped along his thigh, working its way up towards his groin but stopping long before. Leaving a thin trail of black, that spilled over the clean white fabric and onto the floor. "Now, son of the merciless one, your pitiful father isn't here, so it looks like you'll be paying for his debts," she almost whispered to him, her voice soft and graceful considering her actions. She then stood up and moved herself behind him, making him nervous and anxious in anticipation for anything bad, as she placed one of her hands on each shoulder, the left one holding the clearly visible dagger.
He shifted his sight to the dagger, familiarity rushing through him at the sight of it, the silver blade was tinted with black…..something, blood? Paint? He didn't really know, he was just worried, scared and terrified about what she might decide to do with that dagger. He could see a faint sight of an old wooden and worn handle, and when she loosened her grip on it, holding it by the tip of the handle, he could see the rough shape of a cross. Strange, he thought to himself before it came up underneath his throat, words still being whispered in his ear by her which he hadn't heard due to his attention on the dagger. "….ugly, scoundrel mutts like them deserve to burn in hell, where they belong." She paused, leaning in closer to his ear, her breath hot as it tickled his cheek. "Just, like, you." She finished, the dagger pulling back as he closed his eyes ready for the pain, the stab into his back. But it never came.
It never did. Ever. Because that would be when he woke up, was sure he recognised the woman from his dreams, and yet he knew that he wouldn't know how or why. He was also sure that he knew, or should know, where the dagger came from and why she had it. But as usual, his mind wouldn't allow the memories to come back to him. This was for the same reason as for many of the things in his life; his parents, his childhood, school, college, previous jobs, houses or even people. He remembered everything from 6 years ago and onwards, not before it.
He had woken up on the side of the road somewhere in the countryside. Only his torn and dirtied clothes and the one piece of paper in his pocket was what he had of his past life. He had read the paper that he was holding onto like his only lifeline to find that it only gave him one answer, his name; 'You are Cameron Somner' was all that was scrawled on it. Written in familiar handwriting that he was sure he'd seen somewhere but with his mind being blank of anything before that day, he had no idea what had happened to him, who he really was or anything about his past. And it was the worst feeling in the world. Not knowing who you are or anything about yourself.
He was working at the local garage in Buxton, as a mechanic which he had learnt on the job. He had asked around the town and this was the only place that would allow him to learn on the job, so he took it. He didn't hate the job but neither did he love it. He liked it, he'd admit that but other than that it was just a job to give him some money for a flat, food and all of the other necessities he needed to survive in life.
A silver Vauxhall vectra rolled into the drive of the garage and the drivers side window rolled down, a voice echoing out, "Excuse me," he froze his work on the engine of another car. That voice, he recognised it. He had heard it every night for at least 3 years, maybe even 4 or 5 at a push. That's how long he'd been having the strange dream, over and over again. He knew that he could identify it anywhere, if it was real, but he knew it was just in his dreams. That's what he thought anyway. He asked himself how he could possibly hear the same voice from his dream, in reality. It wasn't possible. "Hi," she smiled at him as he put his hands on the top of the car and craned his neck inside it. She looked exactly the same, except for the clothes. In his dreams she had been wearing a sky blue dress that hugged her at the right times. Now, she was wearing a mid-thigh length denim skirt and a low cut white vest. "My car's been spluttering for almost 3 miles now and it doesn't sound good. Can you please take a look at it for me?" She asked him, that same misleading tone in her voice that he remembered so well.
He nodded as his answer, "Sure, ma'am, I'll take a look for you. Just bring your car this way," he told her, indicating to her a spot inside the garage that was free.
"Thanks," she answered back sweetly, pulling a flirty smile which he shook off, following the car as it stopped in the appointed space he had given to her.
"Pop the hood," he told more than asked from her as he propped the hood of the car up with the small stand that was inside. He then glanced over the engine quickly to see if the problem was clearly visibly, but deciding it wasn't, he decided to take a closer look. However, this wasn't so easily done when the woman had sashayed to stand next to him, leaning over the hood of the car but looking directly at him, causing him to become nervous under her stare.
"You have some of the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen," she commented, her tone soft and comforting. If he had to take a guess he'd say she was flirting with him. But he had never met someone who thought his eyes were 'beautiful'. People had always commented them as being 'strange', 'dark looking' or even 'creepy'. They were an emerald green colour but had two small rings of dark black, and crimson red running around the centre of them, next to the pupil. It sometimes looked as if he had a ring of red in his pupils, other times it looked like his eyes were being overrun by the black or the red sometimes.
"Well, I can't see any obvious signs for the problem," he told her in a professional tone, ignoring her hints, "so if you leave it with me for a few hours I'll try to sort the problem out for you." He looked at her again to see a warm and inviting face staring back at him.
"So, does this mean that I'm going to be sticking around for a while?" She asked him, her voice teasing his mind.
"Yeah, but there's a small café just round the corer from here," he told her, hoping she would leave before his mind fell to pieces. The terrifying woman from his dreams was now, apparently real and flirting with him.
"Would you care to show me where it is? I've never been here before and knowing my luck I'd probab…." She cut off as her phone started ringing from her bag. She smiled nicely to him before excusing herself and turning away. But he couldn't help but to 'overhear' this side of the conversation. "Yes?...yes I've found him, but only by chance…" she turned to face him again, to see him hunched over the engine apparently deep in thought before she carried on again, "doesn't look like it….I know, I know, the almighty son. The impeding bringer of death and all things bad. Just, do I make a move now or just walk away?" Almighty son? The impeding bringer of death and all things bad? What the hell is she going on about? "Right, well send Gemma to keep an eye on him then. I'm not going to follow him around."He asked himself if she seemed the crazy type, pausing from his work to hear the sound of her heels returning to his side. "So, handsome, what did you say your name was?"
"Cameron ma'am, now if you'll excuse me please I've got work to do," he told her, immediately stepping past her to the table top that was filled with engine parts and tools. She merely huffed at his ignorance before walking quickly, out of the garage and down the road. "Finally," he said to himself.
A few minutes later and the local postman turned up. "Hey Cameron," he greeted to the mechanic, his hands shuffling through the envelopes in his hands.
"Hey David," Cameron greeted back, putting down is tools and wiping them on a small towel so that he could gather the morning post. He was given 3 letters, one in a yellow parchment envelope; one in a crisp, white envelope – which reminded him of his dreams – and the final one were in a red envelope. "Thanks Dave'," he called to the young man who nodded his farewells before leaving the garage. Cameron scanned through the letters, each one seeming stranger than the last. He decided to open the white one first, which held a single piece of white card, and written on it, in perfect calligraphy, was the words: "Watch your back. We'll be watching your every move." His eyes stared at the words in confusement before he screwed it up and tossed into the bin, missing it by inches. He opened the yellow one, finding a letter written to him. The date was what caught his eye '1835 ad'. It made no sense to him but he sat himself down and began to read it anyway.
Cameron, that's not your real name but we had to give it to you to hide you from them. They're watching you. I just hope you get this letter before they get you.
You were not meant to live on that world as it is. You were meant to live on it as its ruler, each planet your kingdom and under your command. They had stopped your father, killed him, but you must follow in his footsteps. Take control of these pathetic humans and bring about the shadows from where we came.
Unleash the monsters that deserve to be free.
Release you cousins and brothers and sisters, allow them to roam this world, free.
You have to hurry though, THEY will try to stop you but you mustn't allow them to.
You have to do this, both for my sake, and your own.
Become the person your father was, follow in his footsteps and have every human being bowing before your feet,
I love you son, remember that,
He read it again to make sure he hadn't made it up, and when he had finally decided that it did seem to be a crack job, he screwed it up and aimed for the bin again, only to miss it, again. He turned his attention to the third one, the red envelope with his name written clearly on the front in black lettering. He opened it to find two cards in it.
The first was an address, a street name and a house number. On the back it said 'Find me'. He picked up the second one to find a phone number written on it, a note on the back of this card too. 'I have the answers you need.'
He turned it over again and contemplated to whether or not to phone the mysterious number. He pulled out his mobile phone and put the numbers into it, his finger hovering over the call button, waiting for a decision from him. But somebody beat him to it, phoning him, so he answered it, "Hello?" He asked the stranger.
"Cameron Somner. I've been waiting for this moment."
A/N: If you would like this story to continue than tell me, otherwise I won't do. Okay, well I hope you enjoyed reading it. I know it probably doesn't seem very supernatural yet, but...it'll get there. Trust me.