Night Terrors by Helen Harper Page B

‘Right here on the other side of the fence. If anyone knows about an interloper in our gardens, it’ll be you. Have you seen anything?’
    I eye him cautiously. As far as I can tell, he’s not accusing me; although Rawlins and I woke him up, I’m fairly certain he didn’t see either of us. All I can do is plead ignorance. ‘No,’ I tell him. ‘But I’m not the same person I was a few months ago. I’m not as aware of everything as I used to be.’
    As soon as I say it, I realise how true it is. Spending so much time indoors on my own meant that I was far more focused on details. I still I’m think I’m pretty observant but, as my horizons have opened up, my attention to the small stuff has dwindled. I guess you can’t have everything.
    ‘How have you been sleeping?’ I ask, changing the subject.
    ‘You mean the sleep paralysis thing that’s been on the news? I saw the queue outside the pharmacy on my way home tonight.’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s nuts.’
    ‘But you’ve not experienced anything yourself?’ I persist.
    ‘No.’
    I exhale softly. That’s good. At least it’s not disturbing every damn person in the world, even if it’s still affecting far too many. I make noises of acknowledgment, lay down my tools and go back inside.
    After a hot shower to encourage sleep, I lie down once more. It’s still not late but I’m hoping that a few of the people who I touched at the doctor’s surgery are already asleep. With the Department meeting scheduled for midnight, I don’t have much time to jump from dream to dream. At least my experience with Rawlins means I know I’ll have some success.
    The first dream I apparate into is again in someone’s bedroom. It’s not as dark as Rawlins’ room and I have to admit that the décor makes me blink. The whole room is decked out in baby pink: baby-pink walls, baby-pink cushions, baby-pink bedspread with, you’ve guessed it, a white and baby-pink fringe. There’s a vanity desk covered in tubes and bottles. When I see the shape of the person sleeping, I draw back in astonishment. I expected a young girl; instead I’m confronted with a middle-aged man. That’s peculiar.
    I don’t have long to marvel at his taste before there’s a tapping at the window. I scoot over and lift the edge of the pink curtains. A small, fuzzy, black creature blinks at me. It’s kind of cute, with big dark eyes that are soulful and expressive. For a moment, my face relaxes into a smile – then the creature bares its teeth and I draw back. Those are some lethal fangs. I’ve seen less intimidating incisors on a shark.
    The imp raises a hand and a single claw springs out. It taps the glass again and then begins to etch out a circle. Once it’s drawn the full 360 degrees, it gives the centre a sharp kick and the glass circle falls in. A heartbeat later, the imp is inside the room with me, cocking its head like a dog.
    It jumps forward and sniffs, curious as to what manner of creature I am. There is a strange humming noise coming from its throat. Then, without warning, it leaps up towards me with its jaws open wide.
    I lunge for the vanity desk and grab the nearest thing, an aerosol. Pressing down hard on the button, I spray it in the imp’s direction. It squeals in pain and covers its eyes. As it cowers, I grab it by the scruff of its neck and fling it back out of the window, then I turn back to the dreamer.
    There’s sweat on his brow. He’s definitely aware of what’s happening on some level. I place a calming hand on his cheek and sense him relax.
    Unfortunately, the imp isn’t as easy to get rid of as I thought. I’m just about to disapparate and go into the next dream when I hear another squeak; I see the curtains billow as it attempts another intrusion. Now I’m pissed off. Only just avoiding its sharp teeth, I grab it once more and hold it up in the air.
    ‘You’re not welcome here.’
    It writhes and squirms, snapping its teeth in my direction. I gaze over its