Dream Believer

by Chrissy

I had just suffered through THE worst day of my entire life. A day from hell. A day in which I discovered my live-in boyfriend of one year had been cheating on me. The whole day had been filled with fights and tearful accusations. As I'd yelled and screamed he'd stomped about stuffing his belongings in a suitcase. "Good riddance!" I'd yelled, as he'd slammed the door on his way out. What a total fucking jerk he'd turned out to be! Men! You couldn't live with them, and you couldn't kill them!! What on earth were they good for! Nothing! Absolutely nothing!

I went to bed angry and agitated and not expecting to sleep. I read for a bit, but the words floated in the tears brimming in my eyes. Finally at around 1:30 I flicked out the lights and lay under the covers. It was strange to be in bed alone without his strong arms holding me. I had to admit I missed him already. But maybe it was the sex I missed. We always made love before falling asleep. I closed my eyes as tears pooled in my ears.

The dream began immediately and it was like no other dream I'd ever had.

I was walking within a dim, narrow underground tunnel. Fiery torches affixed to the wall lit my way with flickering jumping shadows. Looking about, I saw that the walls were covered with ancient hieroglyphics and drawings carved into the sand-colored stone. Glancing at the writings and illustrations on the walls, it occurred to me that I was possibly within a pyramid from ancient times. I had read somewhere that the great pyramids were riddled with tunnels, corridors and caverns and I was sure that I was now in the interior of one such structure.

It was so strange. I was well aware that I was dreaming. I looked down to see that I wore the black 'Desperado' T-shirt that served as my night attire since I accidentally spilled bleach on the sleeve. As I stepped along, a feeling of foreboding filled me and I looked cautiously back at the curving shadowy tunnel curling away behind me. Was I trapped in here? The air seemed fresh enough. Maybe I could locate the source of the fresh air and find my way out. My steps hastened in the tunnel, which was becoming narrower and seemingly to dip downwards. I stopped and looked behind me again. Was I going in the right direction? Maybe I should turn back. Ahead the tunnel was definitely becoming ominously darker and narrower.

But something was drawing me in, so I continued, taking careful footsteps and peering anxiously ahead. As I came around a curve, a flight of stairs appeared before me. Crude stone steps carved eons ago and leading downwards. Did I want to go down? Should I be descending or ascending? I shook my head. How could I be thinking so rationally like this when I am asleep? And why couldn't I wake up? I tried to wake myself, but the dream was too real to let me go.

Slowly, with hesitating steps, I began to descend. The steps curved around and I suddenly found myself in a circular chamber. Pharaoh drawings and pictures decorated every inch of the sloping walls. Flickering torches cast dancing lights on the stone walls and floors. I stared around and could see no door or exit. I was at a dead end. Shit! I would have to turn back.

With a sigh I turned back the way I had come. But my stomach flipped in alarm and my eyes could not believe what they saw. The stairs that had brought me here just seconds ago were now gone! In their place was a solid wall. In panicked agitation I began to claw at the sudden barricade before me. It was rock-hard and cold as if it had stood for centuries. There was no sign of any break in the unyielding stone. My heart began to pump madly as I realized I was trapped in this chamber. There was no way out. Gasping in fear, my breath coming in panicky gulps, I started to thump on the walls. I screamed and yelled. Maybe I could break through. I began kicking and pounding insanely on the wall where the stairs had once been.

I knew it was a dream. Wake up! Wake up! I yelled out loud. But I could not. I was inside a nightmare with no way out. Finally exhausted I slid to the ground, my back against the hard wall. I would just have to wait until I woke up. I would have to wake up at some point surely? I almost chuckled to myself. What a predicament! Stuck inside a stupid nightmare! Would Freddie Krueger suddenly appear out from nowhere?

Peering before me, I noticed for the first time that the centre of the chamber contained what appeared to be a large marble podium. The slab was square and huge and crafted of beautiful vanilla veined marble. I stood to my feet and wandered over. Two figures, sculptured from the same marble, lay side by side atop the dais. It was a man and woman. I wondered who they were. Maybe brother and sister? Or maybe lovers? I guessed this was a tomb containing their bodies.

I moved around to examine the man. He was exceptionally and realistically carved. I leaned down to get a better look. Wow! Whoever had carved his likeness in the cold stone had done a fantastic job. He was lying on his back with his arms at his side, completely naked except for a sheath covering his genitals. A smile broke out on my face as I realized the man's penis and scrotum had been lovingly cast beneath the folds of the covering linen sheath. My smile widened. He had been a well-endowed individual. I wondered again who he was. Not anyone important surely, because he wore neither jewelry nor finery. I stared down at him in awe. The marble work was incredible. Even the hairs on his chest had been carved so beautifully that I could see each one separately. Muscles and ligaments and sinews were sculpted so that it almost seemed he had been not been carved but formed from an actual mold.

My eyes moved up to his face and I almost laughed out loud. What a crazy dream this was! My brain was having a fine time driving me nuts. For the statue was carved into the likeness of Antonio Banderas. Now I knew for sure this was nothing but a silly dream. Antonio Banderas is my dream lover. I spend many hours fantasizing about the actor and now here he is inhabiting my dreams. Maybe I should just sit back and enjoy myself. This was no nightmare but maybe a wonderful fantasy.

His eyes were closed, each eyelash skillfully sculptured in the veined marble. His hair was long and spiraled into curls around his strong shoulders and flattened out on the marble slab on which he lay. Lusciously shaped lips pouted at me and I leaned down to kiss them. "Wake up you beautiful man and ravish me," I whispered. But he remained unmoving and cold.

My examination then moved across to the woman who lay so closely beside him. Like her companion on the slab she was fantastically carved in incredible detail. I stared down at her. Now SHE obviously was someone important. She wore gorgeous jewelry. A ring on every finger. Jewels in her hair, hanging from her ears and strung from her neck. Her gown was beautifully sewn from what looked to be fine silk and it, too, was encrusted with jewels and beads and pearls. All this detail carved so beautifully and realistically into the stone marble.

I stared down at the two of them. They were young. I judged them to be lovers. Lovers from the time of the Pharaohs, maybe? I looked again at Antonio, then across to the woman. Star crossed lovers. Perhaps forbidden to love. He had been a slave. And she had been the royal daughter of a King. Their love had been banned. Maybe they had chosen to die together? And now they lay side by side for all eternity.

I walked around the marble slab again, marveling at the skill of the sculptor who did this. I had never seen such unbelievable detail. My eyes went back to the face of the woman. Her closed eyes were highlighted in Cleopatra kohl which elongated the almond slant. I leaned in even closer. Good grief! I could see the pores of her skin. My heart suddenly jolted. This was no sculpturing job, surely? This was a real person cast into cold marble!

My hot breath moistened the stone and suddenly the granite-carved eyes opened and looked directly at me.

Giving a yelp of shock and surprise I jolted backwards, falling back onto my ass on the hard stone slabs.

Abruptly I awoke to find myself in my bed in my sun-filled bedroom. My eyes went to the clock. It was 9:30. Christ! I was supposed to be at work at 8:30. How had I missed my alarm? And how was it possible that a stupid dream had lasted for a full night?

Grabbing the phone and shaking my befuddled head I dialed my office. "I won't be in today. I'm not feeling too good," I said. It wasn't really a lie. I was shaky and disoriented and sweating. I felt I almost had a fever. And the dream still filled my head. I could not shake it free. Those eyes staring at me. She had opened her eyes and looked directly at me. God Almighty! The shock still reverberated through me. I got out of bed and tried to stand, but my legs were jelly. I climbed back into bed. I was flat out exhausted. My heavy lidded eyes began to close against their will. With a scream of panic I forced myself awake. If I fell asleep maybe the dream would begin again. Fear overwhelmed me. The dream had been a little bit too real for my liking. I did not want it to continue.

I climbed unsteadily from the bed and staggered to the bathroom. I stood beneath the cool surge of water from the shower and compelled myself to wake up. But my brain was clogged and slow. It was hard to think. All I wanted was to sleep.

To sleep - ah perchance to dream?

I dressed slowly and then made myself scrambled eggs for breakfast. Maybe I should go into work? It was no good mooching about the apartment all day. The urge to sleep would be too overwhelming.

An hour later I was in my car driving to the office. My head had cleared. I was finally awake. The dream was losing its hold on me. In fact, I was finding it difficult to remember.

Not wanting to return to the empty apartment after work, I went out for supper and then had a few drinks with some of the girls from work. It was almost midnight by the time I climbed into my bed. Cautiously I closed my eyes but there was no stopping the power of the dream for I immediately dropped into a deep sleep.

The dream began where it had left off. I was flat on my back on the floor and above me the female statue had opened its eyes. Filled with horror and fear I scrambled back to the comfort of the solid wall, not daring to look again at the reclining statues. I would just squat here and wait to wake up.

It's hard to believe that time could pass by in a dream. But it did and it passed by slowly. Wide-eyed with fright I stared around me. The torches flickered and burned, but the figures lying on the stone slab did not move, I was sure of it. My legs became stiff and numb from sitting in one position. Stretching my cramped body, bones cracking noisily, I carefully stood up. It was then that I heard the voice. Soft and muffled it echoed around the chamber. "Help me," the voice said.

I started in shock. Sick fear overwhelmed me. It could talk! The statue could talk! Oh God! I felt nervous sweat trickle down my back. I stamped my feet. Wake up! Wake up! Why couldn't I wake up?

"Please help me." The woman's voice came again.

"Leave me alone! I want to wake up!" I cried frantically. I began scrambling against the wall trying desperately to claw my way through solid rock. "Why can't I wake up?" I screamed. My terrified eyes went back to the statues on their marble slab. Nothing was moving. I slid back down the wall and hunched in a shivering heap on the floor.

Hours passed. It seemed like hours anyway. Could actual hours pass in a dream? But finally I stood to my feet. I couldn't bear it just sitting there. I had to do something. I took a couple of faltering steps toward the statues. Maybe if I evoked an incident it might wake me up to reality.

Slowly, my legs quivering, I walked right up to the statues. Antonio looked the same, but the woman was definitely different. Not only were her eyes now open, but she appeared pinker, softer, more supple somehow. Even the folds of her dress appeared pliable and yielding as if the marble were softening.

I approached and stood looking down at her.

The stone eyes actually moved and focused on my face. "I have been calling for centuries," the hard granite lips whispered. "Why haven't you come?"

Okay - I'd go along with this. It was getting intriguing and I perhaps I wasn't so scared anymore.

"Well, maybe it's because I've only been around for 29 years," I replied with a sarcastic smirk.

The inflexible face softened, its features almost fluid. The lips moved. "You must help me," they whispered.

I shook my head. "Hey, listen, I just want to get out of here. I want to wake up."

The hard marble of her body grated and stirred and to my utter horror her hand moved and the fingers caught my arm in a strong grip. "Help me," she beseeched.

I gasped. Her hand was ice-cold and as unyielding as stone and yet it gripped me around the wrist with unbelievable strength.

"Let go!" I cried desperately pulling away, but she had me in her hold. There was no escape.

I brought my other hand up to claw at her fingers, but she held me securely. "Don't be afraid," she whispered, almost smiling. "I will never harm you. I need you."

I began frantically twisting and squirming and pulling away. I saw that a remarkable change was beginning in her body. It was growing pinker, more alive like real flesh. But a transformation was also occurring within me. Where she held me so tightly I could see the warm blush of my skin actually leaving my body and flowing into hers. My arm was becoming heavy and cold as marble. I screamed out loud. I was turning into a statue. And she was turning into me. I screamed again in absolute terror.

I jolted awake in sweating panic and sat up in my bed, my heart pounding. With a quick movement, I studied my arm - thank God, it seemed fine. I glanced around. It was still dark. It was only 3:17 a.m. I sat there gathering my senses for a while, but I could feel her pulling me back. The urge to sleep was irresistible. There was no way I could lay back on the pillow because I knew I would slip into instant sleep.

I leapt from the bed and paced the bedroom, shaking and afraid. I must never sleep again. I must stay awake. Rushing to the kitchen I quickly prepared some coffee, scooping in an extra measure of caffeine. I switched on the TV and continued pacing. Stay awake! Stay awake! I muttered the words over and over again to myself.

I drank the coffee piping hot, the scalding liquid burning my gullet. I didn't care. I wanted to feel pain, I needed to feel something.

But she was calling me. I could feel her power.

The time crept around to 6 a.m. I paced, I pinched myself, I danced, I stamped my feet. I did everything but settle down in the armchair.

I dressed in shorts and T-shirt and left the apartment. I would go for a jog. That would revive me. I ran through a cold drizzle that frizzed my long hair and moistened my skin. It was refreshing. Everywhere around me, New York City was waking up.

After an hour I headed back to my apartment. Today was Saturday, so I didn't have to work. How would I fill the day? I had to be doing something. I prepared some breakfast and ate while pacing up and down. I dared not sit. But tiredness and exhaustion again overwhelmed me. Bruises began to form on my arms and legs as I continually pinched the skin in an effort to stay awake. Sleep beckoned me. Seductive and enticing. But I shook my head. Stay awake! Stay alive! I knew without a doubt that if I slipped into sleep she would get me. She would drain my life into her and I would be dead and cold and lying on that marble slab in her place.

But I had to sleep sometime! I couldn't stay awake forever. What to do? What to do?

Maybe I was going insane? Should I call my parents, my doctor, a psychiatrist? I sat at the kitchen table. I'd call mom. I had to tell her about Eric and I breaking up. Unwillingly my head dropped into my hand. Tiredness consumed me.

My eyes closed for an instant and I fell into sleep.

She held my arm in her grip, bringing her other hand over her body to clutch my shoulder pulling me down so that our faces were inches apart. I could do nothing. My blood, my life, my essence was flowing into her. For she was now pink and alive while my limbs grew heavy and unmoving. I tried to fight her off but my actions were slow and clumsy.

"Leave me alone," I screamed. Her face was now alive in its smooth supple softness. Her hair shone blue black and silky straight. I could now see the fabulous jewels that decorated her body in all their glorious colour and sparkle. When she finally released me I was as solid as stone, standing erect and stiff, unable to move one single cell in my body. But I could still see and hear and think. I watched as she nimbly jumped down from the hard marble slab and smoothed her dress.

She turned to me, a wide smile on her red lips. "I have lain there for centuries," she said - her accent strange and heavy, "But I never doubted. I always knew you would come. And now you have. You have answered my call."

I stood as silent and as immobile as a block of solid stone. Unable to talk or move or respond, I watched as she danced around to the other side and stood gazing down at the man.

"Antonio, my love, my darling. Awake. Awake and join me in life." She muttered some strange sounding words and then leaned over and kissed the man on the lips. Immediately a pink blush swept through him. Marble hair became raven curls, cold ashen skin became bronzed and supple with life. He sat up and massaged the stiff-muscled arms. As he moved to stand the sheath fell away. He was stark naked and I saw his genitals in all their glory. Somewhere inside my body a cold stone heart thumped with sudden desire.

They embraced. "My love, my Antonio," she whispered. "We are alive because of her." The man named Antonio turned to regard me with amber eyes so beautiful I think I almost toppled over.

Completely naked, perfect in form, his strong penis standing straight out from his body, he came across to where I stood motionless and cold.

He looked down into my face. "Thank you," he said simply; I could feel his warm breath on my stone skin. "All we desire is one more time together."

The woman was whispering strange sounds and running her fingers over the stone slab. Before my eyes it became soft with pillows and cushions. With a cry of happiness, she fell upon the softness of the bed and squirmed about calling to him.

"Join me, Antonio, my lover," she called impatiently. "I cannot wait one more minute. Seduce me. Fill me as only you can!"

With a raised eyebrow he regarded me carefully. "Thank you for this," he whispered again and he leaned into me and kissed me. I felt it! I felt the kiss! I felt him! For a moment his penis pushed into the cold marble of my stomach and a hot desire ripped through my stone core. Then he turned back to the woman, "I am coming Tatiana," his voice all at once hoarse with passion.

I could not move my eyes away. I was forced to watch as they kissed and clung and sucked and licked every part of skin and body. Rolling on the cushions, mad and crazy with a lust denied for eons, they could not get enough of each other. Finally he entered her; lying on top he raised her legs so that each ankle hung over a broad bronzed shoulder. Then he almost kneeled up, his body high above hers, his erection fully inside, his buttocks hard and muscled as his hips began to drive into her with vigor. The chamber echoed with their moans, flickering torches shimmered on muscles and sinews straining as the two bodies thrust in unison.

The orgasm hit both at the same time. The man, Antonio, cried out in pleasure, but the woman, Tatiana, howled as a beast baying at the moon. For one moment the flickering light revealed teeth that gleamed long and pointed as a wolf's, her eyes slanted and evil as they found mine. Beneath my marble skin I shivered. Her smile was a hard sneer, but instantly the lips formed loving and affectionate as Antonio pulled from her and took her into his strong arms.

"My queen, my love," he murmured.

"Spectacular as ever, my Antonio," she returned huskily. "No other man can satisfy my loins so completely."

He began to kiss her. "Time has moved slowly as I have lain by your side, but it roars with the swiftness of fire when I am in your arms, my darling."

"We will love again," she returned, her hand finding him and massaging the hardening erection.

He laughed. "I am ready. I am eager."

You're also pretty well-equipped, I thought to myself as I watched him grow gorged with desire yet again. Wow! My eyes watched as she took him into her mouth, her tongue ringing the top and licking him as he squirmed and moaned. Sucking sounds filled the chamber. I wished I could look away. I wished that I could turn off the sounds of raw lust. But I was forced to stand there, immobile as stone, my reluctant eyes on the lovers as they performed acts of eroticism meant for the privacy of two individuals in the solitude of their bedroom.

The lovemaking went on for a long time. The man was sexually potent and possessed a stamina not known in my century. It was impressive, his performance. Lucky Tatiana, I thought grudgingly.

Finally they both fell into exhausted slumber, all energy consumed by the mad lovemaking. I stood watching over them like some crazy stone statue in the park. I expected a pigeon to come fluttering down at any moment and shit on my head. How long they slept I did not know. All I know is that I did not sleep. I could not sleep. But I could think and my mind wrestled with the craziness of it all. Was I asleep? Was I dreaming? Or was this real? Had I really transformed into a statue? Would I spend all eternity in this chamber forced to watch the two lovers forever?

After a long while the woman began to moan and move about. "Antonio, Antonio," she whined, her eyes remained closed but her fingers searched for him. "I have this strange sensation."

He sat up, pushing back unruly raven curls, "What is wrong, my queen?" he asked.

She frowned and rubbed her stomach. "Everything is wrong, you fool!" She complained. "My innards are gnawing at me. My mouth is sour with acid." She sat up and rubbed her forehead, "And my head pounds as if elephants rampaged there."

He smiled. "You are thirsty. You are hungry. You suffer from lack of fresh air." His hand caressed her cheek. "Don't you see? We are mortal now, my love. We suffer the weakness of mortality."

She leapt down to the floor in great agitation. "Mortal? Mortal? Then we will die!" She cried aghast, her eyes glittering, her arms flailing madly. "*I* will die. We are imprisoned here in this damned chamber, Antonio. We will die here!" Her voice grew to a shriek of panic, echoing about the walls. "We will die! Die!" She cried the word several times in absolute horror.

He took her into his arms, wrapping her into him. "Calm my love. We will not die."

She looked up at him with a pout. "We won't?"

He kissed her softly. Then he looked across at me. "You must release her and send her back."

"But then we will become cold and dead and stone once more?"

He nodded, "Yes, my love. We will be stone, but we will not be dead."

She broke away from him, "But we might as well be! Lying there for all eternity. Unable to move. Unable to touch one another. No! Never! Never! If I must die of thirst and hunger, then so be it. But I will never become a marble likeness again. I am a queen. I will die as a queen."

The man glanced at me again. "But she must return to her life," he said. "You must return her, my love. You know the words. You have the power."

The wolf-like features returned as she stomped about the chamber. "Didn't you hear what I said? I will not become petrified as marble again."

"Then we will die of thirst and starvation," he returned simply. "For this chamber will become our tomb."

She paced back and forth, her mind busy with thoughts and then suddenly she stopped and threw back her head in laughter. "What fools we are, Antonio!" she cried. "We do not have to die here. I have the words. I have the power. You are correct, my love. We have a way out of here."

He frowned. He was so beautiful when he frowned. "What do you mean? What is going on in that pretty head of yours, my queen?"

Her words were quick and breathless, "Don't you see, Antonio? She can stay here in our place. If I say the words a certain way, we will travel to her world."

A jolt of sickening horror struck me. I would spend eternity here, encased as a statue. Unable to move. Unable to sleep. Unable to do anything but wait as the centuries moved torturously by. Oh God! It was worse than any death!! How would I ever bear it? The loneliness. The never-ending loneliness.

But Antonio was hesitating. "No, Tatiana. It is wrong. You must return her to her own world. We would never belong in such a time."

"But I am queen. I rule. I will rule her world as I rule this one, my love. And you will stand by my side." At this I couldn't help but chuckle. My dilemma was dire, but Tatiana was in for one hell of a culture shock if she made it to 21st century New York City.

Antonio continued to shake his head, but Tatiana was on a roll. She paced about, eyes glinting with excitement. A sudden strange spiel of guttural sounds began to flow from her mouth.

A wind picked up in the chamber. Sand from the floor began to whirl about in mini tornadoes. The hieroglyphics glowed and burned strangely.

"See?" she cried. "It's working. The power remains in me. Come hold me, Antonio," she held her hands out to him. "Only a few more words must I say. Hold me and we will travel together."

But he was shaking his head as he neared her. "No. I will not go," he said simply.

She frowned. The noise and agitation in the chamber halted as her magic words stopped. "Of course you will come with me. Don't talk such nonsense. You belong to me. You will come with me."

He continued to shake his head. "I do belong to you - but I do not belong to another time, my queen. I will not go with you."

She stared aghast as his defiance. "What! How dare you disobey me, slave! You will do as I say! Here! Take my hand."

But he drew away, still shaking his head. "No, my queen. I will not go."

"You fool!" She snarled in impatient anger. "You would rather remain here and die a slow death?"

He nodded slowly.

"Ha! Then that's what you will have, my handsome slave. A slow painful death." She dismissed him with a flick of her long dark hair, and turned away.

But to my surprise he moved with hesitating steps toward her. "I ask one thing, my queen," he whispered. She spun to face him.

"What? What do you dare ask of your queen?" Her voice echoed its impatience.

"I wish to have something of yours to hold to my heart. Something that I might kiss as I die." Inside I cringed. What a wimp, I thought with disappointment, saddened at his groveling manner.

She stared with growing annoyance. "You don't have to die, you fool! I told you. Come with me. Here, hold my hand." She made a grab at him, but he moved away.

"I will stay here. I have no wish to leave."

She sighed irritably. "What is it that you want, then?"

"The ruby ring, my queen. I would wish to have it."

She wore several rings on each finger, but the thumb of her right hand bore a huge ring that seemed too massive and too heavy for such slim hands. It was obviously a ring designed for a man. She looked down at the ring in surprise.

"It is my father's ring," she stated. "He gave it to me at my coronation as queen of the fertile Nile lands."

"I know, my queen," he replied quickly. His fawning manner seemed so out of place with his previous countenance. What was he up to? I wondered as I watched him kneel before her, his head bowed obediently. "All I ask is that its ruby radiance stand as a poor substitute for those ruby lips that I have loved and have kissed. All I ask is the ring, my queen."

She hesitated for a few moments and then, with a contemptuous flick of her head, she yanked off the large ring and threw it down into the sand. He snatched it up quickly, put it to his lips and kissed it lightly. Then he carefully placed it upon his hand.

"I thought you a brave lover once," she sneered, scorn in her voice. "Now I think you a fool. A simpering cowardly fool. Get out of my sight!"

But he only smiled. "One kiss, one last kiss, my queen." He approached her once more.

But again she spun away from him. "I have no wish to kiss a coward. Farewell, my imbecilic Antonio."

The strange guttural sounds streamed from her lips once more. Sand swirled up from the ground blurring my vision. Noises grew louder and louder until I thought a freight train was bearing down on us. Her voice grew to a screech, yelling above the howling cyclone wind.

To my absolutely surprise Antonio suddenly came out of the blinding sandstorm and stood by my side. Two strong arms went about me and he held me as if I were a lifeline. I couldn't understand it. What was he doing?

The roaring of sounds grew louder. The torches on the walls flickered and once more the hieroglyphics glowed through the swirling sands. I could no longer see Tatiana, but I could hear her wailing as she chanted the magic words that would take her to my world.

Strangely I did not feel terror in all the uproar. I felt only acute sadness for the beautiful slave Antonio. I would be forced to watch him die a slow death and then witness his magnificent body rot and decay as the centuries passed. I wished he would have gone with Tatiana. But he continued to cling to me as if all life depended on it. Even his legs left the floor and wound about me as I teetered, but did not fall in the wild stormy wind.

There was a sudden blinding flash. I thought my body had been struck through by a thousand needles. Pain ripped at me for several seconds and then there was blackness and silence.

Well, not exactly silence. I could hear the wailing of sirens, the muffled clamor of NYC traffic.

Cautiously I opened my eyes. I was lying in bed in my apartment.

I stared up at the stained, crumbling ceiling and thanked God with all of my might. I was alive. It was over. I was sure it was over. The nightmare was gone. I was home and I was safe.

I took a long gulping breath and sat up in the bed.

"The future is loud," came a warm rich voice next to me. I started in horror.

Antonio lay next to me, a smile on his lips. "And it is not as opulent as I imagined." His eyes roamed my small seedy bedroom with dismay.

I looked about anxiously. "Is SHE here too?" I asked fearfully. "Tatti- whatever?"

He smiled and sat up next to me. "No she remains in the chamber."

He looked around him with wonder, "What is that?" he pointed.

"It's a TV."

"TV?"

I took a deep shuddering breath. "Listen, Antonio, if you're staying around then you've got lots and lots to learn about the future. But first you must tell me what happened back there? Are you sure she can't pull us back?"

He shook his head. God, he was a handsome brute. I hoped he could stay in my century. He could make a fortune as a stand in for Antonio Banderas the actor - not to mention the fact that he was a total sexual stud muffin.

But he continued to stare about him. I could see he was not impressed with my tiny messy East Manhattan brownstone apartment. I wasn't the neatest of tenants.

"You are a slave too?" he murmured with obvious disappointment.

"A slave? Good God, no." But then I thought again. "Well, maybe I am. A slave to the clock. A slave to fashion. I could go on, but I HAVE to know what happened. How come I am alive? How come you are here with me?"

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. There was an amused, self-satisfied air about him. "It was the ring that held the power," he said. "She didn't know. But I did. I was there that day the wizard gave the ring to her father."

I laughed. "So THAT'S what that was all about? I couldn't understand what was going on when you groveled for the ring. I thought you were being a wimp."

"What is wimp?"

"Never mind. Tell me more."

"There is nothing more to tell. She is gone. It is good that she is gone. She reigned with cruelty and oppression. Her people suffered and would have no more of her. They wanted her blood. They rose up against her and would have slain her. To save his daughter her father ordered that the wizard imprison her in the tomb of eternal souls."

"And you went along for the ride?"

He frowned. He was so beautiful when he frowned. "Ride? What do you mean? Ride?"

"I mean what were YOU doing with her in that tomb?"

He shrugged. "I am her slave. I belong to her. She owns me." He was silent for a moment and then went on. "The wizard cast us to lie together for all eternity."

"But how did she grab me while I was asleep. How did she do that?"

"I don't know. The wizard would teach her many things, but there was one detail he did not disclose to his queen."

"About the ring?"

He nodded, again the adorable mischievous grin. "I was a boy of five years when the wizard spoke of the ring's great power to the king. They did not think I understood as they talked in hushed tones so I was allowed to stay in the room. But I understood and I remembered all that they said. Knowing the words was only part of it. The words are useless without the ring. The ring and the words together - that's the power. And the power touches only the wearer of the ring." He looked down at the ring and then back at me, a roguish gleam in his eye. "Tatiana did not know this," he could not keep the amusement from his voice. "But I did."

But the smile quickly dissolved at my next words. "Well, you'd better take it off, O good-looking slave boy, because if your queen is still shrieking those magic words back there in that hell hole - well - they might just reach out and yank you back."

A look of horror crossed his handsome features. He ripped the ring from his finger and tossed it onto the bedspread.

"We must destroy it!" he yelped, staring wide eyed at the gem as if it might jump up and attack him at any second.

"Are you joking?" I cried, "That thing is worth a small fortune. If we sold it we could probably buy ourselves a brand new SUV - a great big one"

"SUV?"

"It's a car. A great big car. A gas guzzler." He stared in confusion.

I sighed. "There's lots to explain…" I started to climb from the bed. "But first I need my morning coffee. Are you hungry? Do you want some food?"

He caught my arm and pulled me back, his eyes suddenly glimmering with amber desire. "I am hungry for you." He smiled, one eyebrow raised suggestively.

The sheet fell back and my eyes settled on the biggest hard on I'd ever seen in my life.

***

Tatiana awoke with an abrupt snoring snort. The floor was uncomfortably hard and sand was caked to her face. She brushed it off with irritation, and staggered to her feet. She rubbed her stiff limbs, and licked dry cracked lips. She was thirsty. Extremely thirsty. She felt it had been hours since Antonio and the girl statue disappeared into thin air. She hoped they had gone straight to hell. She drew in a deep ragged breath for the air was thick and stale, almost no oxygen left.

She began chanting. For the thousandth time she cried out the words, her voice hoarse with rage and fear, her fists clenched. She waited. Nothing happened. She howled in fury. Why didn't the words work? She was chanting every syllable perfectly. Why did Antonio and the statue vanish? She hated being alone.

She paced up and down, her heart racing with fear. She did not have much longer. Soon she would be dead from lack of oxygen. Her jewel encrusted fingers clawed madly at the unforgiving stone walls with frustration. What use were all these precious gems now? She would give them all in exchange for a door to freedom. For even a goblet of cool fresh water.

***

I climbed from the taxi, pulling Antonio with me. His first ride through New York City traffic had jarred his nerves terribly. He shook from head to toe and almost tripped on the inch high cowboy boots he wore on his exquisite feet. I had found some old clothes of Eric's for him to cover his nakedness. Although it was a crime against all that is beautiful to cover such glorious nakedness. I had spent a whole day and a whole night rubbing up against that luscious bronzed body of his, never letting go, totally immersed in erotic sensual delights. We'd made love over and over again. It seemed impossible that any man could be as potent. But he was. And I couldn't stop grinning. I'd never had such a lover in my life. Antonio was - well - he was something else entirely.

At first we had both worried that she might snatch us if we fell to sleep. Clutched in one another's arms we had struggled against tiredness, but we had slept safely and soundly through the night. "Her power is gone," Antonio had stated with conviction, his smile wide. "She is trapped. She is helpless."

So it was that the next day we both staggered awkwardly along the sidewalk. Antonio in his unaccustomed footwear and me - well - after a morning of robust powerful totally satisfying multi-orgasmic sex, it was a miracle I could still walk.

I saw several women giving him the eye and clutched his hand in mine possessively. "I know a place where we can take the ring," I said as we tottered along. Poor Antonio. His head swiveled this way and that as he tried to take in the crazy garishness of Times Square. I guess it was cruel to toss him into the deep end like this. But he would have to get used to New York City so there was not much point in babying him. I could only imagine what was going on in that handsome head of his as we wove through dense crowds and dodged sightseeing buses, crossing streets jammed with vehicles. The sirens, the noise, the pollution, the traffic, the flashing neon lights, the crowds - Antonio probably thought he was in purgatory.

I swung open the heavy glass door and walked into the cool silence of Mannings of Manhattan. Jewelry Store to the Stars. It was a snooty, stuck up boutique, but I knew the staff would have a qualified appreciation for the ruby ring. I was hoping to get at least fifty thousand.

Stuart Manning himself was called to meet with us. We were taken into a private back room and Mr. Manning spent a great deal of time studying the ring through his eyepiece.

"Where did you get this?" he asked finally.

"It's been in his family for years," I nodded toward Antonio. I'd given him strict instructions not to say a word and he sat there impassive, his huge amber eyes staring about in awe.

"He doesn't speak English," I added quickly as Mr. Manning's watery blue eyes slithered across to Antonio and he started to say something.

The jeweler looked down at the ring again as it sat on its cushion of black velvet. "This ring is very old. A museum piece, you might say," he muttered.

I looked at him intently. "How much is it worth?"

He sighed, thinking hard. "I'll give you five hundred," he said at last.

"Five hundred dollars!" I cried aghast almost rising from my seat.

"Five hundred thousand dollars," he corrected, looking at me with a cold calculating stare.

I hesitated mainly because I was astounded at such a huge amount of money, but before I could agree Mr. Manning raised his price. "Okay then, seventy-five hundred thousand. That's my final offer."

I think I came again in my panties.

***

As Tatiana glared down at her bloodied fingers an idea dawned on her. She looked at the bare thumb where her father's ring had resided and rubbed the empty space thoughtfully. The ruby ring? Why did Antonio desire it so? It seemed so odd and out of place for him to act like that. And the way he had snatched it so avidly as if his life depended on it. A frown furrowed her brow. The ring had been her father's. Did it hold magic? Was the ring the passage out of here? She snorted again. Well, if it was and if Antonio still wore it upon his finger, then she would call him back. She knew the words to summon him back.

With an animal growl, she began to chant with renewed vigor.

***

Stuart Manning sat in his penthouse suite. He could not believe his luck. The world would soon be his. The foolish pair had no idea about the true value of the ring. The damn thing was priceless. Priceless! Well, not priceless exactly. He knew any museum on the planet would offer him millions for such an acquisition. Millions! The ring was ancient. More than ancient. Maybe even from the time of the Pharaohs. Christ Almighty! The massive ruby was flawless. A stone of such fine clarity could never be mined in these modern times. And the piece had been fashioned with primitive tools of long ago. The gold was the purest he had ever seen. It was a fabulous piece!

He grinned slyly. He couldn't help himself. He must look at it one more time. He crossed to the cabinet and pulled the ring from its velvet box.

***

Tatiana mouthed the words over and over again. Her crazed rasping voice echoing back to her from the arched walls of the chamber. If Antonio still wore the ring, she would wrench him back. She would bring him back and then she would choke him to death.

Stuart Manning attempted to get the ring on his finger, but the thick stubby digits matched his thick stubby body. The damn thing wouldn't go down past the second knuckle. He was about yank it off when a thousand knives stabbed at his body and he howled in agony. Just before the blinding flash, the ring toppled from his finger and fell to the white carpet of his penthouse suite.

Tatiana stared opened mouthed at the short fat man in strange attire that suddenly stood quivering before her. "Who are you?" she asked in annoyance. "And where is my ring? Give it to me at once or I'll strike you dead!"

***

Maria Rodriguez was ready to return to Mexico. She hated America and she hated New York City. And she especially hated her employer, Sr. Manning. He was a pig. She had to clean up after a pig. She worked hard and long and he paid her a pittance. He made fun of her faltering attempts at English and constantly threatened to report her to the authorities. But the worst had been last night. She had been exhausted and ready to go home after a long hard day cleaning. "I have to be paid for my work, Sr. Manning," she'd said her voice pleading. "My rent is past due."

He'd swaggered toward her, his face an ugly sneer. "You'll get paid when I'm ready to pay you, honey. Mexicans don't order people about in this country. Especially illegal Mexicans."

She cringed at his nearness and moved to the door when he'd caught her arm and he'd tried to kiss her. His wet clammy mouth made it as far as her cheek before shoved him away. She wiped her face with repulsion and he had laughed nastily. "Give it to me, honey, or I'll see to it you spend the next ten years in jail. I'm a very important man, the police will believe anything I say."

She had heard his foul laughter as she hurriedly escaped from the suite. But today she was back. She was desperate for the earnings he owed her. She had no other alternative but to ask for her money again.

She entered his penthouse carefully, heart thumping. She had worked for one month without any payment. His apartment sparkled clean because of her. But this would be the last time. She would ask for her wages and then she would tell him to go to hell.

Her boyfriend Roberto followed her into the suite. "Where is the bastard?" he snarled. If Manning didn't pay up, Roberto was going to slit his nose. His fingers played with the small knife he held in his sweating palm.

Maria looked around tentatively, "He's not here," she whispered half afraid. "That's strange. He never gets up much before noon. Where could he be?"

But Roberto had spied something on the floor. "Hey, baby, look at this?" He picked up the ruby ring. "It's just lying here on the floor."

Maria frowned. "Leave it, Roberto." But Roberto slipped it into his pocket. "No, we're taking this. If he won't pay you for your work, baby, then we're taking this ring as payment. Come on, let's get out of here."

Maria hesitated and then nodded. What was a little ring when Sr. Manning was so rich? He wouldn't miss it. He probably didn't even know it had fallen to the floor. She dropped the door key to the fashionable suite onto the coffee table. With a final look around she followed her boyfriend out the door.

"We'll sell this," he smiled, bringing out the ring and looking at it once more. He slipped it onto his finger. "And then we'll get married." Maria's smiled. "In Mexico?" she said. "We will get married in Mexico?"

"Sure," he agreed. He looked down and admired the huge red ring a shifty, almost evil expression crossing his features. Maria walked on ahead, her steps light. Soon she would be with her family in her beloved Mexico.

***

Antonio took me again for the third time that night. Fantastic orgasm after fantastic orgasm. How would I stand it? I looked up into his handsome eyes, an errant ebony curl falling across sweating bronzed features. His curls bounced as he drove into me with energetic rhythm.

"Am I your woman?" I asked with a grin. "You are my woman," he assured with amusement.

"And you are my slave," I laughed out loud. "My love slave."

He laughed with me as we came in one mind-blowing climax.

Everything was so perfect. A beautiful man in my arms and three quarters of a million dollars in my bank account. Life was suddenly so perfect.

But then I frowned. Was this still a dream? Or was this real? Was this real life? And if so, then what *is* real life? A madness? An illusion? A deception? A shadow? A story?

No - life is but a dream. Just a dream.

It's all just a dream.