I remember looking down at a penguin lying motionless on its back. It appeared to be a perfectly normal animal but for the fact it was a distinct, light blue colour.
Thinking it might be injured, and being a person who respected the well-being of Antarctic, if that’s where penguins are from, mammals, I bent to offer the creature assistance. That had been a mistake, because the devious critter had not been a normal animal at all. It turned its head to look at me with eyes that consisted of nothing but a sickening red colour. And then the pain started.
First, I noticed that both my arms were locked in position across my chest, held by what appeared to be a pair of vice-like hands. What followed was a feeling like the knuckles of a fist being driven relentlessly into my ribcage.
Above me, the blue penguin gazed down with a complete lack of emotional response. Yes I’m aware that penguins don’t have much emotion in the first place. But you get my meaning.
The invisible fist continued its assault, and the pain, combined with claustrophobic restriction to my movement, became excruciating. I attempted to cry out in what I assume was an attempt to repeat the “Jet Clarence, mental state awake” trick, but found my mouth not currently taking requests.
As the moment drew on panic began to take root. It escalated to a point that was close to raw terror, and then something peculiar happened. Words burst from my mouth;
“Get away! Get away!” And accompanying both declarations was a sensation like energy, or electricity, pulsing from my body in a crackling wave. The restraining hands were torn from my arms and the knuckled fist was pushed from my ribcage, both sent flying away.
Released I sat up and looked around, only to realise I was awake and sitting in bed.
The objects in my room, which I had taken the time to rearrange after my previous episode, once again showed signs of being affected by an invisible force. Only this time the effects had been two-fold, with my bedside table splintering where it came into contact with the wall, and my chair managing to gouge a groove into the wooden cupboard. Above me the light fixture was swinging so erratically it almost made contact with the ceiling, squeaking mournfully as it strained to stay attached to the ceiling.
Only then did I notice the blood splatter on the wall to my right. Critter 2, who I had released into the house the day before, had survived only a few hours.