Conor grew even more confused. “Called you? I didn’t call you–”
You will tell me the fourth tale. You will tell me the truth. “And what if I don’t?” Conor said.
The monster gave the evil grin again. Then I will eat you alive.
And its mouth opened impossibly wide, wide enough to eat the whole world,
wide enough to make Conor disappear forever– He sat up in bed with a shout.
His bed. He was back in his bed. Of course it was a dream. Of course it was. Again.
He sighed angrily and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
How was he ever going to get any rest if his dreams were going to be this tiring?
He’d get himself a drink of water, he thought as he threw back the covers.
He’d get up and he’d start this night over again, forgetting all this stupid dream business that made no sense whatso–
Something squished under his foot. He switched on his lamp. His floor was covered in poisonous red yew tree berries.
Which had all somehow come in through a closed and locked window.
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