This is a story by my friend Aletessa, with illustrations by me. To avoid spoilers, I've made it so that you have to click on the Illustration text to see the illustration.

In Dreams

Starring: Niella, Jessica, Sonny, Denise, Fawn, Johanna, Miss Arda, and Julia.

PART 1

It was the dream again. It was different, different every time, but Johanna knew it was the same one. This time he was bending her over the side of a tub, his weight and impossible strength pinning her in place and forcing her head beneath the water. She fought him as hard as she could, but her arms could find no purchase and her kicks did nothing to him. His other hand was on her crotch, massaging her as he drowned her. His touch on her cock, delicate as his grip on her neck was forceful, was expert; building arousal warred with panic within her body, both using up her precious air. Her struggles were slowing, yet her pulse was racing harder. Her legs gave out beneath her, but a torrent of unwanted pleasure rushed through her; her arms ceased their flailing, but her body was at its verge.

"The twin deaths," he whispered. Even if it was impossible that she could hear him through the water.

This was the last time; she knew it. Tonight he would take her for good. A third death born from the others.

The burning in her lungs was too much and she gulped, taking in water. Desperation lent her a moment's more strength; she tried to lever herself up, but she managed no more than a twitch. And the effort forced her mouth open, more water flooding into her lungs. Just as her mind went out, he brought her to her climax; the force of her orgasm robbed her of the last of her control and the water filled her.

And then she was empty.

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****

"It was two dreams," Denise said. "That's how it felt. Like one dream invading another."

Dr Niella Collins nodded encouragingly. It wasn't the first time she had heard this kind of description. "Tell me about the initial dream first."

"It was some kind of party. I didn't really think about what it was for, it was just happening. It was like a dining room, except all the tables were round the edges, and there was a dance floor in the middle. The floor was rocking like it was on a ship."

"Go on."

"After a while, I realised I was naked, but no one minded. They all acted like it was normal."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"What happened then?"

"One of the men led to me to the middle of the dance floor, where there was a bed. He tied me to it, with my legs spread out." Denise paused. It wasn't the first such dream she'd described to Dr Collins. It was why she was here in the hospital after all. But it could still get embarrassing. She took a few breaths for continuing. "Then he had sex with me. And then everyone else in the room did too, one after the other." Her mind drifted back; a succession of men and women, some rough some gentle, some focussed on her, others carrying on their conversations with other guests as they took her. Her nipples grew hard at the memory of it.

"Go on," Dr Collins said, showing no sign of noticing Denise's flushed skin.

"Then he was there."

"He?"

"He wasn't at the party. I just knew it, somehow. But he was on top of me, fucking me so hard. And... he had his hands round my neck. He was choking me. It got tighter every time he pushed into me. I couldn't breathe. He... killed me, in my dream. I felt myself die."

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"Die?" Dr Collins leaned forward.

"Yeah."

"Did he say anything?"

"Something about two deaths. No, twin deaths."

"Why do you see them as two separate dreams?"

"I was just sure of it. I have dreams like the party dream all the time. But not that one."

"But now you're trying to control the feelings that lead to those dreams."

"So... are you saying it's to do with that? Because I'm guilty or ashamed?"

"Are you guilty or ashamed?"

"No? I don't think so. I don't think it's bad to want sex. I just don't want to want it all the time."

"As you try to deal with the hold your hypersexuality has on you, that will manifest in unexpected ways."

"Like dreams?"

"Perhaps."

The session was over a few minutes later. As Denise stood to leave, she found herself suddenly dizzy, clutching at her chair back to stay upright.

"Are you all right, Denise?" Dr Collins asked.

"Yeah. I've just been wobbly today."

"Go carefully."

"Thankyou, Doc." Sonny, one of the orderlies, was waiting outside; Denise was grateful for the company as she headed back to her room.

After Denise had gone, Niella looked back through the notes she'd taken. It wasn't just the notion of one dream invading another she'd heard before; another of her patients had also mentioned the phrase 'twin deaths.' Niella went to her filing cabinet fishing out the case note of Arda Fortieuvre. The two women had both reported the dream of a man strangling them mid-sex, while uttering it. And Arda had also reported feeling unwell after, just like Denise. The commonality was disturbing; Niella would have to look into their interactions with each other.

****

Jessica jumped slightly as her desk phone rang. There wasn't a patient booked for another half hour at least. "What's up?" she asked into the receiver.

"There's a Detective Evans here," her receptionist replied. "He says he wants to talk to you about one of your patients."

"Detecive as in police detective?

"Yes."

"Send him in."

Evans was tall enough that Jessica half expected him to duck under the lintel of her office door. He got straight to business. "I understand you've been offering therapy to a Johanna Xavon."

"That's correct."

"Regarding what?"

"I certainly can't tell you that. Which you should know."

Evans had the grace to look slightly abashed. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Ms Xavon was found dead this morning."

"Dead? How?"

"The Medical Examiner hasn't determined that yet."

"I know she'd been ill lately. I mean, physically, not related to her therapy."

"Anything you can tell me may be of help, Doctor; within the bounds of your ethics."

"If you're suspecting suicide-"

"Why would you say that?" Evans asked.

"Because you're investigating, which means you think there's something suspicious about her death. But I can tell you I saw no indication that she was a danger to herself."

"I see. Can you tell me about her physical illness?"

"Not much. She was unsteady on her feet. She said she was feeling weak. She looked tired." Jessica knew Johanna had been tired, exhausted even; she'd spoken about disturbed sleep and vicious nightmares, but that part fell within her professional bounds.

"That's all I need for now," Evans said. "I'll be in touch if I have any more questions."

"I have some questions," Jessica began, but she found herself addressing his back as he peremptorily left. Asshole. She sat back in her chair. Johanna had looked terrible on her last visit. Jessica found herself thinking it wouldn't be a surprise if her death turned out to be natural causes. At the same time, she wasn't willing to simply leave a patient in the limbo of that assumption. Give the ME some time to work; then place a call to their office tomorrow. In the meantime, she tried to push the question out of her mind and ready herself for her next patient.

****

The dream began suddenly; his hands on Julia's neck, snapping her, killing her instantly. Her sense of herself shifted. She could no longer see or feel; there was just an awareness of him moving her. Slowly undressing her. Undoing her hair so it flowed around her shoulders. Arranging her body on the indeterminate ground; her limbs spread out just the way he liked to see her. A brushing against her lips; lipstick, not a kiss. His hands on her arms, bracing himself as he entered her cooling pussy. His thrusts, his grunts, her limp form jerking to his movements, an ultimate submissive response.

He whispered something, but she couldn't hear him; yet the cadence of his voice remained in Julia's ears as she shuddered awake in the darkness.

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****

His arm was around Fawn's neck, lifting her off the ground; the crook of his elbow closed on her throat, cutting off her air. She was hauled upwards, then dropped, only to be impaled on his cock. He bucked his hips, driving into her body; his arm continuing to inexorably choke her with each motion. Her mind rebelled at the impossible geometry of how he held her. But impossible or not, he penetrated her more deeply with every moment, and his grip of his arm silenced breath or scream or plea. Fawn was growing lightheaded. As her consciousness slipped, her body's instincts took over; her passage grew slick, and her blood reddened in spite of its lost oxygen. At last the twin assaults reached their respective climaxes; Fawn's body spasmed with death and orgasm and everything went black.

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Fawn was gasping when she woke; heaving air into lungs that felt as starved as they had in the dream.

****

He had her again; this time she was on her knees, his hands tangled in her hair, forcing her mouth onto his cock. Arda struggled to breathe through the invasion, but he was huge, surely more than any man could be in reality; his cock was deep in her throat, even between thrusts. She braced her hands against his legs, struggling to push herself free, but his grip was too strong, and Arda was growing weak. Again and again he pounded, until her lungs were burning, and her heart slowing. Even when he came he didn't stop; he rammed even harder into her, now lubricated by the semen dribbling down into Arda's lungs. Until her body couldn't take any more and the endless choking claimed her.

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Arda wasn't conscious of waking, but all at once she was in her room. She looked around, half expecting him to be there; the movement made her head ache. She curled up on the bed, feeling too weak to get up. It wasn't just a dream. She was sure of it. She felt it. He was real, somehow, somewhere. Taking more of her life with each death she dreamed.