While those sorts of movies weren’t exactly the kind of thing I ever chose to watch, I’d heard enough about the clichés to know how they all worked. “Yeah,” I retorted, “and the token ethnic guy would be the first victim, and the awkward best friend soon after. Okay, now I see why you’re siding with him.”

Vik’s expression darkened. “This is serious, Andi.”

“No, Vik. It’s stupid,” I snapped.

“Look,” Bree answered, trying to defuse the situation, “let’s just leave it. Vik, you can take your creepy book back home, and we’ll just forget all this ever happened, okay?”

I suddenly realized that I wanted to protest. Something within me burned for more time with the Necronomicon. I wanted to see if it contained anything else that might relate to my dream. But if I asked Vik to let me see it again, then I’d practically be admitting that I thought it was a magic book. Which I didn’t. Except…

Ugh, I didn’t know what to think.

“Fine,” I said as inoffensively as I could.

It didn’t have any venom behind it, really. I didn’t mean to sound angry or even annoyed. I actually meant it as a sort of resignation. But as Vik stood up with the book and left the room without another word to either of us, I couldn’t tell whether or not he interpreted it as such.

“Are you alright, Andi?” Bree queried, clearly concerned.

I wondered for a moment why she was asking me that; it was hardly the first time Vik and I had disagreed, and it wasn’t exactly a huge argument. I knew we would make up tomorrow, or even tonight if we saw each other online later. We’d have our usual “No, it’s my fault, really” back-and-forth for a minute, and then life would go on as normal.

“Andi?” Bree prompted. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

I looked to the mirror on the green room wall, and realized that she was right. I was pale, shaking. Suddenly, I felt incredibly weak, as if all my energy had instantly been drained away. As if… as if the experience with the book had stolen a bit of my soul. Everything became a blur, and then darkness.

~*~*~*~

I was back on the cliff face of my dream. There were the waves crashing on the rocks below. And there was the creature, the giant green winged monster. It began to reach for me with a webbed hand, tipped with long jagged claws, but then I heard my own voice echoing everywhere, though I did not speak.

“Ch’ftaghu shugg Cthulhu!” my voice cried out from the distance.

Just like last time, the beast vanished in a chaotic flash of darkness and nothingness, a flash that was strangely blinding, yet wonderfully beautiful in spite of its chaos.