- The Woman With The Long Fingers Behind The glass -

I had been within a study, possibly a smaller literature assembly room. I do recall the decor as being rather subdued and devoid of brightness as well color. The lighting had been of traditional table lanterns with a heavy taste in Victorian collective.

I know I had been sitting in a green chair which had been rather thick with a loose feeling of velvet. To my right hand side there had been an elevated side table with a lamp. I had been most likely toward the center of the room. On the mirroring opposite of my own seat there was a man whom wore a discolored brown suit.

A black rug had been shared between us two. The man's skin had been almost white and thick. To state he was a rather lean man but I mean that I could feel the thickness of his skin as I could, say, the glass of the table lantern. When he spoke his voice had been inside my mind. With each word his body would snap to a different position within the area of the room. On various occasions, I believe three, he would stand at a rather large shelf of books without titles nor covers.

His hair had been rather well kept and I do recall the room growing dimmer on my section whilst the end he remained on grew brighter. " To be honest She does not find you are doing your job as efficiently as you very well could. " His words were rather clear cut yet distant in my head. I had no words to give though I do know I had been rather hesitant and in some way terrified of knowing this.

He had cleared his throat as he looked past myself. My vision had left as to follow his own staring unto a wooden door with a rather large glass window. Perhaps an exit or a way deeper within. A pale almost grey light had shown through and there had been a shadow shortly pressing against it. I had known it to be a rather thin woman whose left hand slowly trailed along the glass. She had three fingers which were in-human in their length. I could make nothing more than the shadow of her form.

At this time I had awoken into a state of half way consciousness as I opened my eyes to the semi-darkness of my room. I could hear the sound of a woman softly chuckling as if right into my ear. My eyes had looked towards the door to the hallway and found the same shadow of the woman standing in the dark, leaning into the wall and frame. The act of registry had been vastly detained on my part but on my recollection in the same instant I grew aware of her she was soon on myself screaming into my face.

The scream had not been of aggression but rather of some twisted joy. I knew it. I was terrified and bolted from my covers. It had been my first dream to branch from sleep. I do not believe I had much of any sleep that night after.