And then he woke up...
Kayn scrunched his face up as his mind slowly processed the end of his dream, or was it a memory? He wasn't sure, but one thing he was certain of, was that the light was far too bright. His hand instinctively went to his face, its back gently resting over his lids, yet the radiance still found its way into the corners of his vision. The familiar woman, the odd happenings of that day, they all faded away as the fog left his mind.
For one blissful moment before the realization, there was no pain, no gnashing teeth, no spikes of adrenaline coursing through his veins, and most relieving of all, there were no unnatural voices in his skull. Just Kayn, his thoughts, and that unrelenting glow.
Thank god, he thought hazily. It was just a dream…
But was it? He remembered heading to the subway, arriving at work, completing menial tasks before making the same trek in reverse back to his home. No, that wasn't right.
Did I go to work? His mind raced, but he couldn't remember. Every day felt like the same, so long as you didn't take into account all the weird things that went on yesterday, it should have been exactly the same. He went over it again, and again, wincing a little at the light, but not wanting to lose track of his thoughts.
Okay, even if I didn't go to work, I at least went to sleep, that much is indisputable. I went to sleep, had a crazy dream about the undead–. His heart skipped a beat, or rather jumped as he felt something in his chest lurch. No… No! I am going to open my eyes and there will be absolutely nothing. No crumbling city, no ravenous corpses, nothing at all. Please…
And with great trepidation, Kayn opened his eyes.
There was nothing.
There was literally nothing.
He was surrounded by a bright white light, or glow, or aura, that stretched on as far as he could see. That in itself was a weird thought, for if he were surrounded by nothing, how far could he see? There was no way to perceive depth. Kayn slowly, pushing himself up until he was sitting, and ran his hand along whatever passed for a solid surface. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. After rapping it with his knuckles a few times, he rose to his knees, placed one foot delicately yet firmly under him and stood.
Kayn had always been afraid of heights, and though he was hardly thinking about that at this moment, he couldn't help but feel some of that lingering fear as he stood there, unable to process what was happening. The hairs on his neck were standing on end, his body tingled, his hands started to sweat and shake, but as far as he could tell, he was safe. Safer than when he was fighting for his life anyway.
He breathed heavily for quite some time, shuffling forward a little at a time, never letting his feet leave the 'ground'. It didn't really matter what he did, he knew that, no matter which direction he attempted to go, it would be more of the same.
Kayn forced his eyes open, as though maybe if he were to really take it all in, something would change, or at least reveal itself to him. Unfortunately the white void remained unchanged, at least for a few moments longer.
His gaze lifted slightly when a series of numbers appeared at the top center of his vision, floating with unnerving stability, following every tilt of his head like he had logged into a virtual reality lobby.
00:13:42
He blinked several times, brain lagging behind as he tried to decipher their function, but they stayed firmly in place. As he shifted his focus from the timer back to the glowing emptiness around him, his words stumbled in his throat, and his breathing deepened as he tried to steady himself.
"Is this a timer? What is it counting down to? The numbers, what do they mean?" he asked aloud.
The voice in his skull answered with the same calm tone it had used before.
[The timer indicates the remaining time until your biological waking cycle resumes. Upon conclusion, you will regain physical consciousness in the external environment.]
Kayn managed a small, incredulous laugh, although it was without humor, more of a reflex.
"So, I am asleep. This is a dream, and I will wake up in thirteen some-odd minutes?" He could hear the desperation leak into his tone, even as he tried to hold back. For a few fleeting seconds he let himself imagine his own bed, the sound of city traffic outside, anything other than the endless white swallowing him whole, or worse, the end of the world. Was it worse? At least here he wasn't fighting for his life, but Kayn imagined his life would probably be worse waiting in purgatory.
The voice responded without hesitation.
[You will awake in 00:13:08 . Provided that no external trauma interrupts the cycle.]
Kayn stared up at the timer once more. The numbers ticked downward in complete disregard for the torrent of thoughts and horrors swirling around his head. His mind supplied its own interpretation of the system's response. The timer would continue for another thirteen, or no, twelve minutes and fifty nine seconds until he would wake up peacefully. Or… He would wake up in ten, no, five, no thirty seconds because a zombie was chewing on his face, and it would all be horrible agony until he succumbed to his traumatic injuries and–. He couldn't think like that. An alarm clock. A simple alarm clock was set to wake him up and his brain would dilate the time in the dream to coincide with the timer in his head. The alarm could go off right now in the real world, he would look up, the timer would be flashing red at 00:00:00 and before lunch all of this would be a vague memory.
That's it, that's the scenario I'm going with. He thought to himself, unable to break free from the anxiety gripping his heart.
If he could accept that this was nothing more than a bizarre dream with a countdown, something conjured by his own panicked imagination, then he could survive these last twelve minutes without losing his mind.
"It has to be a dream," Kayn whispered as he stared up at the timer. His voice trembled in a way he wasn't accustomed to. It sounded small and lacked any of his defensiveness. He supposed denial was a defense, but it was too primal to remind him of himself.
"The brain can do weird things, right? If this is all subconscious nonsense then I will wake up soon, and everything will make sense." He nodded once to himself, as if the physical motion might solidify the idea.
Painful silence was his first response. A painful response was his second.
The system answered in a calm, downright professional tone.
[Your physical form is unconscious within the external world. This environment is a controlled simulation shaped through your brain activity, designed to preserve memory cohesion and emotional stability. It resembles a dream, yet it is governed by fixed structure rather than imagination.]
It was like a punch to his gut. He tried to swallow but his throat tightened instead, and the attempt was on par with severe indigestion. He could feel his heartbeat in his head, which made no sense to him if what the system said was true. Still, dreams were devious mistresses, and he had to cling on to hope.
He rubbed his eyes hard with the heels of his palms. "You don't get to tell me what is real. I will wake up in my room soon enough, drink yesterday's coffee grounds, curse my alarm clock, and probably be late for work. Nothing you said changes that."
Somewhere in the whiteness, the air shifted. Colors bled faintly across the periphery of his vision, so soft and unfocused that reflexively blinked to clear away the spots from his eyes, but they didn't vanish. A smear of gray spread along the floor beneath his feet, followed by a patch of dull brown near the edge of his sight. The shapes were not coherent and lacked detail, yet something about the hues caught at his memory in a death grip.
Kayn stared at the subtle changes and dragged his gaze across the landscape. Something familiar lurked far beneath the blur, buried by an unwavering haze. A washed-out rectangle formed to his left. To his right, a series of uneven vertical shapes flickered and disappeared before he could identify them.
He frowned and whispered so quietly he barely heard himself, "Stop doing that. My brain is not a paint program."
The system replied without any rise or fall in tone, the voice unshaken by his hostility.
[Your subconscious is attempting to impose a familiar spatial structure. It has selected the environment you find most comforting. This is a standard response when placed within undefined cognitive parameters.]
Kayn inhaled sharply through his nose as he began to feel dizzy, likely from the increased blood pressure. A private thought flickered through him, bitter and hopeless. If you really are in my head, then you should understand that none of this matters, because I am not accepting it.
The answer came instantly, without even a pause to suggest processing.
[I understand that you reject the information, but acceptance or refusal does not alter truth. You are not dreaming, Kayn Mercer. This space exists because you require it.]
There it was, another blow. Sure, if he was asleep then his brain was exactly the kind of jerk to create a contrary entity to combat him every step of the way. However… If this thing wasn't the result of a fever dream, the idea that nothing remained private, not even the dark corners of his thoughts, made his skin prickle with cold discomfort. There was no place to hide from something that spoke directly inside his mind, no corner to retreat to, no barrier of silence. The white world around him began to feel smaller, as if it were closing in.
The colors continued to bleed into shape. Gray spread into uneven walls, though the texture fluctuated unnaturally, pulsing outward and back again seemingly uncertain as to what shape it should take. A large rectangle appeared near his left shoulder, flat and ugly. After several seconds, he realized it sat at the correct height and angle to be his bedroom window. The conclusion left him with a sharp pain behind his eyes and an ache in his chest, because if his subconscious was reaching this deeply into him, then the system was probably right.
His voice wavered. "If you can hear my thoughts, then you know I don't want any of this. I don't want to be here. I want to go home." His throat felt raw as he spoke. Was he causing that? Could he imagine his throat find and it would be so? A rational Kayn would have taken the time to try, but he was no rational Kayn at this time. He stared down at the remaining white under his feet, trying not to look at the shifting shapes. "I wanted it to be a dream."
[Understanding your wants is a function of this space. Fulfilling them is not. Your emotional processing will continue whether or not you desire it. Remaining within denial will not protect you.]
Kayn let out a long and stuttered, "Fuck". His knees buckled beneath him as he collapsed to the ground, not from physical weakness, but from the weight of despair. He pushed his palms against the surface below him, grounding himself as much as he could. The numbness spreading through his limbs told him he was losing the battle against rationality.
The timer at the top of his vision shifted once more. 00:09:26
He did not trust his voice enough to speak. He did not scream or lash out. Instead, he placed a hand over his face and closed his eyes, silently wishing the shapes around him would disappear before they became fully formed.