Ectobabble: The Silver Knight

As I grew older, I began to meet other kids in the neighborhood, see what they did for fun. I met a group of kids who all varied in ages from 14-17 who loved to solve mysteries. They would go out exploring and would find places supposedly haunted or had something peculiar going on. In the end, they always caught the evil-doer, found out exactly who they were, and what they were after.

I thought that was amazing. I was still much younger than them so I couldn't go out on those sorts of trips, but I always loved it when they came back and told me their stories.

One story has always stuck with me though - in a weird way - and I'm not sure why.

They were trapped in a museum and a supposedly haunted knight's armor ran through the halls trying to scare them away. They stayed the night and eventually caught the haunted armor. When they took off the helmet they found it was the son of the owner of the museum, who was angry at his father for not including him in his will. So the young man sought out to scare his father into giving him the museum. Not the best plan, I had laughed about it at the time.

But nights later I began having a reoccuring dream.

I was home.

It didn't feel like home.

My creator came up to me and told me to beware - there was a White Knight that haunted the halls and if I didn't go to bed, before nightfall, that it would "get me".

My dream self nodded seriously. Suddenly, it was night (because it's a dream so of course it happens immediately) and I needed to escape.

I heard him. I saw an eerie light coming from the hallway that led to the kitchen. An eerie realistic glow that I swore was REAL began coming from around the corner. I was so scared but held back my scream so it didn't know I was there. I bolted for my creator's room.

I jumped in her bed and snuggled up to her. She asked me what was wrong and I told her.

"The white knight! The white knight! You were right, please protect me!"

My creator hugged me, whispering comforting words. I barely breathed a sigh of relief before I realized their touch had grown cold.

I looked down and I saw an off-white armored glove, that eerie cold mist around it, gently stroking my arm. I was cold! I was SO COLD! It was consuming me!

I looked up to face a chuckling White Knight whose gentle hug turned into a furious grip on my upper arms.

It's funny. That's stuck with me for so so long.

I wonder if it holds any meaning.