Jeremy awoke from a strange dream. A nightmare that felt so real it was minutes before he realized he was at home, in his bedroom, in bed.

  According to his clock, it was 05:00 in the morning. In his nightmare, he'd spent over 3 years in a horrible dungeon and was about to enter the fifth floor of the dungeon when?...

  He wasn't sure...

  Wow! That had been some dream.

  He awoke as he was about to enter the fifth floor of the dungeon. Too bad. He'd been curious to know what would happen next. In his dream, he'd taken the essences of different monsters into himself, so he was immune to poisons, could breathe underwater, and shoot lightning from his body. On the fourth floor, he'd even become part dragon.

  Awesome!

  Yeah right.

  It's incredible how things make sense when you're dreaming, but when you wake up?

  Yeah. Sure.

  Oh. There were those crazy saurians who thought they were humans and were threatening to exterminate humanity. Thank God that was a dream. Those guys were mean.

  It was early, but he pushed himself up and checked his closet. No portal. Careful to avoid making noise and disturbing his worthless brother, he went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He half expected to see a scarred face with half an ear missing. But no. He was definitely ten. No scars, no monsters, no dungeon portal.

  For an instant, the mirror seemed to mist over, and he felt a sudden chill, but the mist and chill vanished again soon after they appeared. Must have been his imagination.

  He'd come home, done his homework, and taken harsh criticism from his friends on his lousy hockey playing. They had a point. He'd eaten dinner with his mom and brother, watched a movie, and turned in.

  He half expected to see or hear his annoying companion, Flint, or his faithful familiar, Squeak. But... silence.

  His dartboard was on the wall, and his unbroken hockey stick was leaning against the dresser where he'd left it. He threw a dart at the dartboard, hitting the wooden door next to the dartboard. In the dream, he was thirteen-years old, throwing knives and hitting dead center with every throw. Yep, he was definitely ten again. Stupid dream.

  ***

  “I had the strangest dream,” Jeremy said at the breakfast table over his cereal. “Andrew pushed me into a dungeon portal in my closet, then I met this garden gnome creature, and these monster teddy-bear creatures tried to kill me and I almost died, then I tried some poisoned candy and almost died, then I meet this evil elf wizard who seemed nice at first, but then he kills my new friend and tries to kill me, and I almost die. I almost died a lot in this dream.”

  “Too bad you didn't die for real,” Andrew said, glaring at him from across the table. “And there's no such thing as dungeon portals, stupid.”

  Mom looked up tiredly over her mug of coffee. “That's enough, Andrew. It sounds like you had quite a dream, Jeremy. You should write it up, turn it into a story.”

  “Yeah, maybe. It was so strange and unbelievable. Thinking back on it, it makes no sense at all. But at least Andrew wasn't there. A child-eating clown tried to kill me on the first floor of the dungeon, but I kept thinking, at least Andrew wasn't there, so it could have been worse.”

  Andrew's response was to flick a piece of cereal at Jeremy when Mom wasn't looking. Jeremy ducked to the side as a piece of cornflake flew past his head. Odd how he could dodge something like that without thinking. If he'd thought about it, he was sure he'd have gotten smacked with a wet corn flake.

  Andrew ambushed him later in the hallway. “What's your deal, pukehead?”

  Jeremy should really be afraid, but for some reason, he wasn't. “You didn't put anything into my mac and cheese last night, did you? That dream was weird.”

  “Like I'd waste anything like that on you. What's your deal?”

  “Aside from your ugly, drug-using self? Nothing.”

  Andrew threw a punch.

  “Ow.” Jeremy partially dodged it, but it still hurt. “I wouldn't do that.”

  “Yeah,” Andrew said. “Why not?”

  “Unfortunately, we live in the same house. It would be a real shame if you woke up and found venomous spiders or some other insect in your bed.”

  Andrew snorted. “I'd like to see you try, you little-”

  Jeremy's response was to gently pick up a spider he'd seen climbing up the wall next to him. He held it out for Andrew to see. “Do you suppose this little guy's venomous? It might be. I like spiders myself.”

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  Andrew stepped back. “You keep that thing away from me, you little rodent, or I'll make you wish you'd never been born.” He stormed past Jeremy, keeping as much distance between the two of them as he could. The front door slammed.

  “Mom, I don't suppose I could get a tarantula for Christmas? Or how about a scorpion?”

  “You want a what?”

  “So maybe?”

  “So. No.”

  School was boring; the same old thing, different day. A numbness surrounded him; things that bothered him pre-dream didn't anymore. The only interesting thing to happen was that Jeremy's cellphone buzzed during lunch. He'd received a text message. “J: I obA hT t'o.” All he could discover about the sender was a number (555) 555-5555. He tried to respond. “What?” For an instant, he thought his cellphone formed an eyeball that blinked at him. But then the eye and text vanished from his phone as if they had never existed. Weird!

  He visualized his mind enclosed in box after box, imagining thousands of boxes surrounding his consciousness until he calmed down. He did not know why he did this or why it worked; he had a feeling it should, and it seemed to.

  It occurred to him later that the 5 might represent the floor he'd been about to enter when he'd awoken. If that meant anything, he couldn't say.

  The rest of his day was uneventful.

  His life settled into a dull routine. Sometimes he'd feel the odd fear, and he'd perform his box ritual.

  “Come on, Jeremy! Wake up!” someone shouted, pulling Jeremy back to the present. He was playing hockey. A player from the other team was approaching with the puck, no doubt believing—correctly — that Jeremy was a weak link. Without thinking, Jeremy intercepted the puck and fired a shot at the goal from the middle of the arena. Nobody was more surprised than Jeremy when it went in.

  After a quiet, stunned pause, his teammates cheered. He played as if he had two left feet most of the time, but occasionally he got lucky. When the game ended, the coach patted Jeremy on the back. “Nice score, Jeremy. Don't think about it.”

  “Don't think about what?” he asked, but his coach walked away. For a terrifying second, Jeremy could have sworn he saw a three-foot tentacle come out of the coach's shoe, flopping on the floor behind him. When Jeremy looked for a second time, it'd vanished.

  He'd hoped these strange fears would fade as the days went by, but they seemed to grow worse. He'd even tried to talk to Mom about it. She looked at him strangely; a third eye in her cheek blinked at him. “Don't think about it.”

  Jeremy closed his eyes and opened them. Mom's third eye vanished. “Don't think about what?” But like the others who'd said it, she didn't respond.

  Over a month later, on Christmas Eve, he had a strange dream.

  “Trainees. What are you doing?”

  The five trainees jumped to attention. “Initiate, Anda, we have a message for The Strongest. We are waiting for him to conclude his business with the dragon before disturbing him.”

  There was a distant roar from the upper cavern.

  “I will take the message,” Anda said with an amused smirk. “Go about your business.”

  “Yes, Initiate.” The trainees handed Anda the message and left, clearly relieved to let someone else deal with The Strongest.

  Anda entered the upper cavern. The Strongest was facing off with a young dragon. Sixty paces long from head to tail. He'd heard older dragons were much larger. She had four clawed feet, wings, and a fire-breathing mouth full of sharp teeth, and her green- gray scales glittered in the torchlight. What was most impressive to Anda was that he could feel the massive dragon's fear. The dragon staring down at The Strongest was afraid. She stood between The Strongest and three dragon hatchlings, trying to look large and intimidating.

  “I'm claiming this cavern, human. Get out.” The dragon spoke with her mind, but Anda had no problem understanding.

  “This cavern is ours, young lady.” The Strongest's face mask turned frowny. “Normally, if something moves into one of our caverns, we kill and eat it along with its children.”

  The dragon's response was so quick, Anda could barely follow as she spat fire, burning the floor around The Strongest, but leaving him untouched. She attempted to bite him, but The Strongest responded by backhanding her head and mouth hard enough to drive her back.

  “That's enough of that, young lady,” The Strongest said. “I did say normally we'd do that. In your case, I believe we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  The dragon's anger flooded the cavern, but she was in no position to bargain; this was not a fight she could win, and if she fled, she'd be leaving her children behind. Her mental voice oozed anger and hate. “What do you want from me, warrior mage?”

  The Strongest bowed. “Please forgive me. Where are my manners? We should discuss this matter over lunch.”

  The Strongest waved Anda forward. Anda approached, the hot floor burning his feet through his shoes as he gave The Strongest the message. The Strongest read it, snorted, and threw it away. It fell to the floor next to him and caught fire. “Tell the council I said 'stay out of my way.' But first, you will help the serving staff.”

  “Yes, Strongest.” Anda backed away and watched from a distance. It wasn't long before he heard screams and curses. Two of The Order entered the cavern carrying four outsiders. They were naked, stripped of clothes and jewelry, and bound hand and foot. The Order dumped the outsiders in front of the dragon.

  “Do you know who I am?” one of the outsiders shouted. “My father is a king! Let us go, or he'll destroy you!”

  “I highly doubt he knows where you are,” The Strongest replied. “You filthy adventurers were concealing yourselves for your little dragon hunt. And you thought you could sneak through our territory and poach our monsters?” He wagged a finger at them. “Mistake.”

  “You are not going to kill them?” the dragon asked.

  “We will if you wish. We could chew your meat for you, too, but I didn't think dragons were finicky eaters.”

  The dragon's mouth shot forward, and the outsider screamed as the dragon picked him up and crunched him between her teeth. “We're not,” she thought-spoke while chewing her food. “When your kind leaves meat behind, you always kill it to absorb its life force. I've never encountered one of your kind who did not.”

  “My people prefer to avoid the dungeon curse when we can. I have killed so many beings, I'm at the eleventh level of the curse. But I believe dragons predate the dungeon universe and are immune. We also have a Griffin if you want it.”

  “I do,” the dragon responded. “I've hungry young mouths to feed.”

  The Strongest motioned to the serving staff. Anda followed the two Order members to help them bring in pieces of a still living griffin. They piled the legs and wings next to the griffin's still-breathing body. They'd tied the griffin's mouth shut so it could not cry out.

  The dragon dropped pieces of meat in front of her three children as The Strongest spoke.