Fiction

June 15th

-I’m trapped, someone help me.

June 16th

-It’s been three months and there’s still no chance of escape.

June 20th

-First chance I’ve got to get down any information. My name is Clark James White. Three months ago my car broke down on a country road. I wandered down a lonely gravel road that I thought might have someone with a telephone. What I found was a complex hidden behind a corn field. One big barn-like building with four smaller buildings surrounding it all. There were two small ponds on each side, and miles and miles of cornfield beyond that. There were some people working in a field so I waved them over. Someone’s coming…

-The workers were all wearing white t-shirts and white shorts. They turned their backs when I waved. A black golf cart containing two men, one young and one old, flew out between the rows of corn. The older man offered to let me use the phone and motioned that it was inside the large, barn-like building. I followed him in, trying not to talk too much. Inside the large main doors was a small foyer. I peeked through a small window and caught my first glimpse of what looked to be a large church sanctuary; complete with a stage, pews, and altar.

June 21st

-The older man, I later found his name to be Joseph Arcania, led me into a small side office. His smile was bright and his eyes sharp as he led me to the phone and placed a hand on my shoulder. I don’t know if it was minutes, hours, or days later when I woke up; all I know is that I woke up with one HELL of a headache. The room I’m locked in now is the room I woke up in then. My head had been pounding, it didn’t help that I was surrounded by total darkness. I ran into all matter of furniture before I fumbled into a cold metal door. I remember turning and turning the doorknob until the frustration grew enough for me to start banging on the thick metal door with all may might. They came and…

June 24th

-I apologize now for the short sentences and cut off thoughts. I have to stop and hide my notepad periodically. It was swiped from an office during a “Conversation”, which is a polite euphemism for torture. They give me a relative amount of privacy in this room, I think. I have to assume they aren’t watching otherwise they probably would have confiscated this notepad already. I can tell by the shadows under the door that there is at least one guard positioned outside my door every night.

-They’re going to come grab me for breakfast any minute now. I just wanted to put down in writing that it has been three full months to the day since they kidnapped me.

-Three months of beatings, starvation, and attempted brainwashing and I finally found out what this is that is holding me. A cult named “Joseph’s Dream” headed by the man who had greeted me the day I arrived at the complex, Joseph Arcania. This cult is based on whatever Arcania tells them he sees in his dreams. I know this because they let me sit through a service in their main worship hall today. And by “let me sit” I mean ”tied me down to a pew”. The crowed swallowed whatever their leader threw at them. “And so Joseph’s dream leads us. And so Joseph’s dream leads us,” was chanted for nearly three hours. Their leader talked about traitors and spies. He went on at length about the rehabilitation of such people, and his plans for those he catches.

June 28th

-I thought they found my notepad. I was mistaken, I hid it too well, even from me it seems.

June 30th

-They came for me in the middle of the night the other day. I thought they knew about my notes, this journal of events. I must have been mistaken because it was here when they brought me back from our “conversation”. It has never been this bad before, each word pains me to write, that’s how hard they beat me. I find it hard to believe I’m still breathing. My leg has to be broke. I haven’t found out much since my last service, hopefully more information will come soon.

July 3rd…I think

-They put me in a shed for days. I think it’s the third of July. They sat me in another service, “And so Joseph’s Dream leads us…and so Joseph’s dream leads us.” He went on at length about faith and what it means to us as the Dream people. He talked about the promises sent to him in his dream, his lambs lapped it up. He called on me in the middle of the service, asked me of what faith I considered myself. I told him, “I’m an Atheist. But I’m flexible.” I expected a chuckle, or a roll of the yes, not the days of beatings and isolation in an old tool shed out back, what I’m taking to call “The Tool Shed Isolation”. I had to relieve myself in a corner and hope I didn’t roll into it during my sleep.

Day #1 after Tool Shed Isolation

-I’m off on the date, I know it. I must’ve been in that shed for a least a week, not the couple days I originally thought. It’s hard to tell time when your day revolves around beatings instead of hands on a clock. I’m almost starting to feel like I should at least pretend to buy into this B.S. until I can find a way to escape.

Day #2 after Tool Shed Isolation

-I asked the guard to tell his leader I was ready to attend more services, that I wanted to start to see how “Joseph’s Dream” could lead me. Joseph Arcania came and beat me with a bat, nearly breaking my leg again. I’m bedridden, and unfortunately have to hide this journal in a more obvious spot if I want to write at all. They did bring in a wheel chair and take me to a service. They promised if I sat through it they would take me to the infirmary.

Day #7 after Tool Shed Isolation

-Those bastards. The infirmary was a small first-aid kit in the men’s restroom.

Day #15 after Tool Shed Isolation

-This guy Joseph Arcania may have something going on here. I sat in on another service, that man can talk.

Day #16 after Tool Shed Isolation

-Mr. Arcania had a private sit down with me today. It was our first conversation that didn’t turn into a “Conversation”. It was just him and me. He talked to me at length about my journey, my life, and how I ended up where I am today. He told me he dreamed about me, every night. They were incredibly accurate portrayals of my childhood, my teenage years, and my entire life. I fell for it. I fell for it deep. It wasn’t until I was wheeled back into my room that I realized everything he had told me came from our previous “Conversations”. God damn him.

Day #34 after Tool Shed Isolation

-I’ve had no sleep for a week. They’ve been watching me, kicking me every time my eyes close. I don’t think that…

Day #42 after Tool Shed Isolation

-They gave me a new name, forsaking my slave name Clark James White. My new name, thank Him in dreams, is Lincoln Joseph Arcania. They are training me to be the new receiver of Joseph’s Dream, whether I like it or not.

Day #43 after Tool Shed Isolation

-it abe lick…ton…tree charter…picture hat wood… … … cat eye… … watch. Smile…ornament dress…balloon… … … It’s hard to concentrate… I’m not sure what they’re doing to me… … …

-It’s been days, maybe weeks. I’ve lost count again. I blacked out for far too long, again. They’ve been sitting me in front of a blank television screens for hours upon hours at a time. Just as I think they’re about to turn it on, and give me a change in scenery, they kick me and I wake up. This all feels like one big long dream with no end. I feel like I’m rambling. They keep telling me that my first dream will come soon, that I’m chose and that Joseph’s Dream will lead me to lead the people.

-I met a young woman today. Her name is Eliza Finch. She said she’s been here for ten years. She couldn’t have been older than twenty one. There’s no way she’s been here since she was eleven, I find it hard to believe that this cult has been here since she was eleven. She was, is, beautiful. Light brown hair, flowing down to the small of her back, wavy and beautiful. Her eyes hone a bright, piercing, penetrate your soul green. After exhaustive talks with Joseph Arcania, about what my first dream would entail, he sent for Eliza to take me out. Fresh air. It was like heaven. Sunlight fell across my face; it was the perfect day, the perfect weather, the perfect little world. We walked out of the main compound to find a small gravel road, the same road I had trudged down that fateful day that brought me here. The corn surrounded us on all sides, swaying in the gentle breeze. Eliza walked us around, giving me a tour on the way. Before long I saw the tool shed they had locked me in. Painted in free-hand red paint above the door it said “x-eCutiONEr”, I shivered thinking of what could have happened in that shed had things gone differently.

-Arcania must have sensed some connection to me and Eliza Finch. Ms. Finch has been my constant companion these last few days. She comes and teaches me from the book Arcania learned from, a big leather bound books almost as long as my forearm entitled “Into the Mind of the Crater” subtitled “Joseph’s Dream”. I asked her if she thought the title was a misspelling. If it was supposed to be “Creator” instead of “Crater”. She told me that the Crater never makes mistakes.

-My first dream came tonight, Arcania was proud. I was in our sanctuary preaching to one, single man. The man was hidden in impossible shadows that fell perfectly across his face. He was wearing a black suit, black shirt, and a blindingly white tie. He said his name was Dave but I could call him Joseph if it pleased me. A name tag appeared on his chest with glowing red letters that switched between “DAVE” and “JOSEPH” with each blink of the eye. The dream is still very clear to me as if I had actually experienced it. “Into the Mind of the Crater” had explained to me that this is how you know it will be a real dream. This Dave, or Joseph, or Shadow Man, went on at length about ways to prove to Arcania that this dream was authentic. First thing in the morning I had a guard get Arcania. He’s called for a major celebration in my honor, in the honor of Joseph finally coming to me in my dreams. I briefly mentioned “Dave” and Arcania seemed extremely confused, like he didn’t know what I was talking about.

-I had another dream last night after the banquet. Dave/Joseph asked me never to mention his Slave Name to Arcania. He said it was information only Lincoln Arcania was privy to. He told me that he has been visiting Eliza also, but she had been informed not to say anything about the dreams. He knew once I met her I wouldn’t leave without her. I asked him how he knew this; he said he could see it in my eyes. Earlier today Arcania sat down with me and some of the Church Elders, they seemed to accept my dreams.

-Arcania had me lead the service today, with the okay from the Elders, to tell them about my dreams. I told them how wonderful Joseph is and how he will provide for us when we need it. I spoke about the generosity and lovingness of Joseph and what we could do to please him.

-Arcania confided in me today that Joseph came to him in a dream and told him that he would never come again. Joseph told him that he needed to relinquish control of “Joseph’s Dream” to me or he would suffer. I asked him what he planned to do and I never got an answer. He asked me not to tell the Elders.

-Yesterday morning Arcania woke me early. He sat me down for breakfast in his office and told me that he wouldn’t be giving over the church so easy. I would have to tell him my dreams and he would pass them along. That night Dave came to my sleep. He was pissed. We sat and talked for what felt like hours buy only fifteen minutes had passed when I woke up later. I can’t sleep which is why I’m writing this now. I finally got some answers. This religion, church, cult…whatever you want to call it, is all a farce. Dave explained this all to me. He also explained that I needed to tread carefully. He would help me if I could help him. He helped Arcania found this group. Dave died the night of the first moon landing, a hit and run accident. Some sort of freak occurrence cursed him to a life of jumping from mind to mind trying to find an escape. Along his travels he had heard of the book “Into the Mind of the Crater” and of its promises to “free lost souls from the entrapment of the mind.” He found the man with the only copy of this book, this man was Joseph Arcania. Arcania was a deeply disturbed man when Dave met him, still seems to be. The only way, Dave explained, he could gain access to the book or the teachings in the book was to convince Arcania that he was Joseph giving him a dream. What grew from that he could never have imagined. This cult grew from that simple idea. Numerous lives were ruined, people were trapped and brainwashed. Dave could stop it. After two years, not the ten plus that Eliza had alluded too (although that could’ve been due to her brainwashing), when he started to realize that the book was a sham, it offered no escape from his situation. Had to move on to find another answer, but he couldn’t leave with the damage he had done. I sat in front of a desperate man at the end of his patience. He wanted to leave this place and search for the next hind or rumor that would get him out of his imprisonment but he wasn’t so desperate to be like Bailford. I asked him who Bailford was his answer was a turn and a grunt. He told me that he would deal with Arcania. I would have control of this “church” in the next few days and be able to safely disband it.

-I sat through the service today in the back of the sanctuary. I could hear Dave telling Arcania what to say. He was broadcasting it through everyone’s minds at once. Odd thing was no one noticed it. Arcania was saying word for word what Dave was feeding him. They must be that blind to their leader. About halfway through Dave stopped. Arcania attempted to carry on but was distracted by the murmuring of his congregation. Dave yelled in everyone’s head. It was so loud, my hands instinctively shot to my ears. He called out my name and asked me to come forward. I walked to the altar and stood next to Arcania. The entire congregation sat there staring at us, some with their hands held over their ears others with their jaws to the floor. The crowd began to murmur again, until Dave called out for silence. Right there, in front of all of the dream followers he took away all of Joseph Arcania’s credibility and gave it all to me. He explained to everyone what he was, who he was, and what his plans for the future were. I was very surprised when he didn’t announce a disbanding of the church. I am now writing this in the safety of my own office, not paranoid with no worries about whether they’ll find this note-pad. Arcania is in my old room under the supervision of four guards until I can consult with Dave on what to do. I’m tucking this away until morning.

January 1st

-It’s been a month since I disposed of Arcania and almost three since I last spoke to Dave. He never came back to me. He left me here. I’m lost; I need Joseph’s dream to tell me what to do. MY lambs are lost; I’m afraid I’m leading them to slaughter. Where is Dave?

January 2nd

-Two Police Detectives from a Will County, a county I’m not familiar with, showed up today asking questions about me. Someone, I don’t know who, had filed a missing persons report. They had traced my steps to this compound. I assured them I was okay, then I assured them that I had all the proper paperwork for this facility. As they left one of the detectives, a thin Hispanic man named Riviera, turned and said the oddest thing; “Dave says you need to let it go. Keeping this cult together is doing no good.”

January 4th

-It didn’t occur to me until today that the cop Riviera had said Dave’s name. Not Joseph, not “Your God”, he said Dave. I’ve spent the last two hours digging through my trash looking for the card the cop had left. Hopefully I can find it.

January 5th

-I called the detective and got a dead line. I don’t think they were legit. I think it was Dave trying to get a message to me. I told Eliza my plans to disband the church and send everyone on their way. One of the younger members of the church, a teenager named Tyler, found her hanging from the rafters of the sanctuary. We are holding a service in her honor tonight. One of the elders informed me that “Joseph’s Dream” does not allow for funeral services, we should dispose of her body like we’ve done with everyone else in the past. I don’t care. We are having a funeral service for her.

-Another of the Elders approached me before the service and warned me not to go through with it. I was a bit unnerved; it seemed more like a threat than a warning.

January 6th

-The people are whispering. I’ve lost them. I have to escape or I will be taken care of like I took care of Arcania. I don’t think I can do this. I’m going to try at the service tonight. Maybe this will all go to plan, if not I’m going to try to escape.

-That didn’t work. I barely have time to scribble this down. In the middle of my service tonight a voice that sounded a lot like Dave’s interrupted and discredited me. It wasn’t Dave. I saw the sound man’s hand adjust the speaker volume with what Dave was saying. Those filthy backstabbers. I heard one of the elder’s talking right before the service. Eliza didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. Arcania was never really in charge of this group, either was I. The Elders have controlled it all along. Dave was a pawn, Arcania was a pawn, and I was a pawn. Hopefully I make it out alive tonight. I’m going to wrap this notebook in a sheet and stash it behind a loose ceiling tile, hopefully the next leader they get will find this and be warned far enough in advance. Good night and good luck.

Clark James White

June 15th – January 6th