48

"I asked whether you'd want a sandwich with your tea, and you replied no."

"Oh. A sandwich. Yeah. Great." On a small piece of white bread was a cucumber that had been finely sliced and topped with mayonnaise. Not including the crust.

The whole setting shone brightly and was quite stunning to look at. We are now located in the Warm Springs area. Dennis recalled the previous location of the picnic. But I think there are topics that are more essential for us to talk about than tea.

The question that she posed to me was, "Who does your hair these days?" Elizabeth was unable to do it on her own at any point in time.

"Do you like it?" Elizabeth reached up and touched the silky and soft gold mass that was heaped at the base of her neck.

Dennis exclaimed, "It's beautiful!" in a tone that was unmistakably reminiscent of her mother at a dinner gathering hosted by the Daughters of the American Revolution.

Elizabeth said, "Well, you should know that hair is significant." Her eyes shone with a lapis lazuli blue that was much darker than the sky's blue. Dennis absentmindedly ran her fingers over her own head of bouncy red locks.

Elizabeth said that it was obvious that blood was also an essential component.

"Blood?

Oh, yes—of course, you're right, "said Dennis, startled. She had no clue what Elizabeth was talking about, and she got the uneasy feeling that she was balancing on a tightrope while crocodiles were all around her. She conceded in a feeble manner, "Yes, blood is vital, all right."

"Another sandwich?" he asked.

"Thanks." It consisted of tomato and cheese. Elizabeth took a bite out of the one she had chosen for herself with great care. Dennis observed her as she felt an increasing sense of unease inside herself with each passing minute, and then—

Then she saw the muck dripping down the sides of the sandwich, which was her next realization.

"What... what exactly is that?" Her voice had become high-pitched due to her fear. She realized that she was unable to move at all; all she could do was gasp and gaze. This was the first time that the dream seemed to be a dream. When Elizabeth was eating her sandwich, a large chunk of the brown substance slipped off and landed on the checkered tablecloth. It was muck, no doubt about it. "Elizabeth... Elizabeth, what—" is what she said.

Oh, in these parts, everyone munches on it. Elizabeth beamed at her with a grin that revealed her teeth to have a dark stain. Except that it wasn't Elizabeth's voice; rather, it was a man's voice that was distorted and unpleasant to listen to. "So will you," she said.

The air was no longer comfortingly warm and fragrant; rather, it was swelteringly hot, sickeningly sweet, and reeked of decaying rubbish.

The green grass had dark holes in it, and it wasn't even groomed; it was wild and overgrown instead. That wasn't Warm Springs, by any means. How could she not have noticed that she was at the ancient cemetery while she was there? Only these tombs had recently been disturbed.

"Do we have another mouse?"

Elizabeth said while giggling in an inappropriate manner.
Dennis yelled as he glanced down at the sandwich that she was carrying, which was only partially consumed by her. A brown ropy tail was dangling from one end of the object. She tossed it at a tombstone with as much force as she could muster, and it made a wet slapping sound as it made contact.

Then she stood there, her stomach churning, feverishly pressing her fingers across the pants she was wearing.

"You can't go yet. The guests had barely started to arrive." The appearance of Elizabeth's face was altering; she had already lost her hair, and her skin was developing a leathery and grayish patina. Things were beginning to move in the newly dug trenches as well as the plate of sandwiches. Dennis was afraid that if she saw any of them, she would lose her mind and go completely insane.

"You're not Elizabeth!" the man yelled. She shouted and then took off running.

Because the wind whipped her hair into her eyes, she was unable to see properly. She was aware of someone following her since she had a feeling they were immediately behind her. She was thinking, "I need to get to the bridge," when she collided with something.

"I've been waiting for you," said the gray skeleton monster with long, twisted fangs that was wearing Elizabeth's clothes. "I've been waiting for you."

"Listen to me, Dennis." It exerted a tremendous amount of force on her. "You can't be Elizabeth, can you? You can't be Elizabeth, can you?"
"Listen to me, Dennis!"

It was Elizabeth's voice, Elizabeth's true voice; it was eager without being obscenely amused nor thick and ugly. It blew through Dennis's dream like a gust of crisp, icy air, and it seemed to have come from someplace behind Dennis. "Dennis, listen quickly—"

Things were beginning to dissolve. The skeletal hands that were on Dennis's arms, the creeping cemetery, and the putrid hot air were all disturbing. The sound of Elizabeth's voice was audible for a brief period of time, but it was choppy and distorted, much like a poor long-distance connection.

"... He is perverting and altering the situation. I can't hold a candle to his might..." Dennis missed several words. "…

But please keep this in mind. You must locate... at this very moment." Her voice was becoming fainter. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but I just can't hear you! Elizabeth!"
"... a simple spell that requires just two components, which I have previously described to you..." "Elizabeth!"
While she was sitting straight upright in bed, Dennis continued to yell at her.

Two

Dennis drew a conclusion about her memory as she and Merit strolled along Sunflower Street between the rows of towering Victorian homes. "And that's all I remember," Dennis said.

"But you're certain that it was Elizabeth?"

"Yes, and at the very end she was attempting to convey some information to me. However, this particular aspect wasn't really evident, with the exception of the fact that it was very crucial. What are your thoughts?"

What's next, open graves and mouse sandwiches? Merit sported a sophisticated eyebrow arch. "I believe you're conflating Stephen King with Lewis Carroll," said the other person.

Dennis was of the opinion that she was most likely correct. But the dream continued to annoy her; in fact, it had been bothering her all day, to the extent that it caused her to forget her previous concerns. Now, as she and Merit got closer to Caroline's home, the same concerns came flooding back to her head with full force.

She sent an apprehensive look in Merit's direction as she thought, "She really should have notified Merit about this." Merit was the taller of the two girls. It would be irresponsible of her to allow Merit to enter there unprepared.

Merit heaved a sigh as she gazed longingly up at the brightly lit windows of the Queen Anne House. "Are those earrings really necessary for you to wear tonight?"

"Yeah, I do; yes, definitely," she said. It's already too late. We may as well try to make the most of the situation. She continued, sensing a tinge of optimistic desperation in the tone of her own voice as she said, "You'll adore them when you see them."


Merit halted, and at that time, her dark eyes with acute pupils looked carefully at Dennis's face. After that, she knocked on the front door. "I really do wish that Caroline would not decide to stay in tonight. It's possible that we'll be forced to deal with her."

"Why does Caroline choose to spend Saturday nights at home?

You're making a fool of yourself." Because Dennis had been holding her breath for an excessive amount of time, she was beginning to feel dizzy. Her tinkling giggle sounded brittle and insincere as it came out. She continued in a slightly frantic manner, "What an idea," while Merit remarked, "I don't believe anybody's home," and tested the knob on the door. Dennis, under the influence of an insane desire, continued by saying "Fiddle-dee-dee."