The title of the forum post stared back at me.
Have you heard the latest rumor?
It was such a simple question, but the way it sat there in the middle of my room, glowing on my monitor, made the air feel heavier.
I clicked.
Inside was a short, almost lazy-looking post. No username. No flashy formatting. Just a list, like the kind you scribble in a notebook so you don't forget. Weird right? but at this point my curiosity was overpowering the fear I literally felt the night before
Things you should NOT do in a lucid dream:
Do not tell anyone in the dream your name.
Do not ask for the time in a dream.
Do not tell anyone in the dream they're in a dream.
And lastly… never ask someone in a dream, "What do you think you like?"
That was it. No explanation. No warning about what would happen if you broke the rules. Just the list.
I leaned back in my chair, smirking to myself. "That's it? What's the worst that could happen?"
In hindsight, I should've taken it seriously. But at the time, I saw it like some weird internet dare. A game.
Which is so weird considering I was so scared before, maybe it was all planned that id do it by who knows what, thinking about it won't help me now though and it won't make the pain stop anyway.
That was my first mistake.
The rest of my day went on like any other. I gamed, read manga, let a playlist run in the background. I didn't even tell anyone about the post, partly because I didn't have anyone to tell, but also because I wanted to test it for myself.
By the time night rolled in, I was practically anticipating the dream but I was equally anxious. The post hadn't said how to enter a lucid dream I guess it just assumed you knew how. But ever since my first one, I'd been itching to get back. I figured if I wanted it badly enough, it would happen.
I climbed into bed with one thought in my head: Tonight, I'm breaking a rule. The first thing I noticed when I "woke up" was the texture of the air.
It's hard to explain, but lucid dreams have this way of feeling too real. The colors are sharper, sounds richer, and even your own body feels lighter, like gravity wasn't needed here.
I looked around.
This time, I was in the middle of an amusement park.
It was alive with color and sound. The Ferris wheel spun lazily in the distance, glowing with hundreds of little lights. Rides whirred and clanked, kids laughed as they ran past with cotton candy twice the size of their heads, and music floated through the air like it had nowhere else to be.
It was beautiful. Fun. Harmless. The perfect dream.
Almost too perfect.
I wandered the park for a while, letting the scenery wash over me. The warm smell of caramel popcorn, the shimmer of neon lights, the hum of people moving like one big, happy crowd.
But I didn't forget why I was here.
That's when I saw him.
A man selling balloons in the far corner, under the shadow of the Ferris wheel. The balloons were strange-some shaped like stars, others looking like shapes I couldn't recognize, their strings swaying despite the still air… it made me curious.
But his face was blurred. Like someone had smeared paint over it.
Immediately, the last rule from the list flashed in my mind.
Never ask someone in a dream, "What do you think you like?"
I hesitated. My pulse sped up.
Then, like the idiot I was, I walked up to him.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. "What do you think you like?"
Time stopped.
I mean literally everything around me froze. The carousel music cut mid-note. The Ferris wheel stopped spinning. The laughter of the crowd was replaced by an oppressive silence so thick it pressed against my ears.
Even the air felt heavier, harder to breathe.
Slowly, the balloon man turned toward me. His head tilted unnaturally far to one side.
"What… did you say?" His voice was soft but carried an unnatural tone, it just didn't sound human.
I swallowed hard. "I asked, what do you think you like?"
That's when it happened.
His blurred face began to sharpen but not all of it. Just his mouth.
A smile stretched across it, wider and wider until it didn't look human anymore. His lips peeled back to reveal teeth, too many teeth. Rows upon rows, perfect and white, but so creepy it made my skin crawl.
Then, from his still-blurred eyes, a thick, dark liquid began to trickle down. At first, I thought it was shadow. Then I realized it was blood.
And then he whispered, calm as anything: "Thank you."
I woke up.
Basically jumped out of my bed, gasping, my heart beating like a drum. My hands were shaking, my throat dry like I hadn't had water in days.
I told myself I wouldn't try something like that again. That I'd play it safe next time.
But it was already too late.
The next night, I slipped into another lucid dream without meaning to.
Same amusement park. Same perfect lights and music.
Only this time, I didn't move. I scanned the crowd, my heart already pounding.
And there he was.
Standing in the same corner. Same bunch of balloons. Same tilted head.
But this time, his face wasn't blurred.
He was smiling.
I froze. We didn't speak. We didn't move toward each other. It was just… a silent standoff. My chest was tight, my breaths shallow. I counted the seconds until I woke up.
When I did, I told myself it was over. That he hadn't approached meant I was fine.
But I was wrong.
On the third night, the dream changed.
No rides. No music. No happy crowd.
Just a cracked, empty ground under my feet and a sky painted in deep, blood red.
The air was heavy. It clung to my skin and it felt disgusting.
And he was there.
No balloons. No stall. Just him, standing a few feet away, grinning like he'd been waiting for me. The silence between us was so complete it made my ears ring.
I couldn't move. I couldn't speak.
Then he started laughing.
It wasn't loud, but it filled the space. Deep, slow, and deliberate, each note vibrating the air. The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, echoing under my skin.
He walked toward me, his steps perfectly in sync with the pounding in my chest. The closer he got, the more I saw. His skin was pale, but cracked in places it shouldn't have, at this point all curiosity I had turned to complete fear. His smile never faded.
When he was close enough that I could feel his breath, he leaned forward slightly.
"Are you ready," he said.
The ground split beneath me, opening into a pit of pure black. His laughter grew louder, swallowing the air, until
I woke up.
But this time, there was no comfort in waking. The dream clung to me, it still felt so real, I couldn't stop shaking, it was like I'd dragged some part of it into the real world. My sheets were damp with sweat. My heart was in panic mode like I could die at any time
And there was only one thought left in my mind, its ironic cause it became such a common phrase for me from that point onward
I don't want to dream.