October 19th,
When dreams stop being symbolic and start being specific,
pay attention.
Sometimes the Spirit doesn't whisper —
sometimes He points.
And tonight,
He pointed.
***
I was standing outside the chapel in my dream.
It was the old stone one, tucked behind the faculty of arts, the one most people forgot existed unless it was Sunday.
But in the dream, it was midnight.
The moon was unusually red, almost like it bled softly across the sky.
I walked inside.
It was quiet — not holy quiet — hollow quiet. Like the room was watching me back.
Then the floor cracked open in front of the altar, and a staircase emerged, spiraling downward.
I followed it without fear.
At the bottom, a massive metal door, chained and sealed with thick, waxy stamps and ancient scripts.
Behind it — banging. Screaming. A voice crying out in tongues.
I reached forward to touch it, and the entire chapel trembled.
I woke up breathless.
That morning, I told Tony, Anita, and Mayumi.
They exchanged looks — not confused ones, knowing ones.
Tony reached into his bag and pulled out a crumpled notebook.
"I didn't want to say anything till I was sure, but I had a similar dream... two nights ago. I saw the same door."
Mayumi nodded slowly. "That door is real," she said softly. "They showed it to me."
We all turned to her.
She took a deep breath. "When I was taken, it wasn't physical… at least not entirely. It felt like my body was frozen, but my spirit was… somewhere else. There were shadows. Faces without eyes. They spoke in languages I didn't understand."
She swallowed.
"They called me a vessel. Said I was chosen to help them unlock something buried beneath the altar of light."
Anita crossed herself subconsciously.
"But something kept stopping them. Every time they tried, they'd scream and retreat — like something was burning them. I think it was your prayers."
Later that day, Anita and I walked past the lecturer's office — the same one who had been acting strange towards both of us.
He wasn't alone.
He was talking to someone.
Gary.
Our classmate. One of Darrey's friends.
They shook hands. But it wasn't a normal handshake — it looked like a transfer. Like something passed between them.
Anita tugged my arm, whispering, "The patterns... I see them. It's not just coincidence. They're gatekeepers, Sandra. Spiritual gatekeepers."
That night, we met outside the chapel.
The four of us. With torches. And consecrated hearts.
We didn't enter. Not yet.
We just circled the building, praying. Worshiping softly. Claiming the territory.
At one point, Mayumi stood still and pointed. "There," she whispered. "That's where the stairs appear."
Tony marked the spot discreetly with a red ribbon.
And then…
The ground beneath us vibrated slightly. Just once.
Like something heard us.
***
There are battles that require bravery.
There are others that demand sensitivity.
But when you're on a battlefield you didn't start,
you don't back down —
you armor up.