Dreaming is such a fascinating experience, is it not? I was never like the other children. While my classmates would recall tales of how they would avoid their own bedtimes I would instead welcome it with open arms. There was just something about dreaming that fully enthralled me. Worlds hidden away in the depths of the unconscious mind that longed to be dug up and explored are what drew me in like a moth to a flame. This fascination only grew when I had my first lucid dreaming experience. Molding the unknown to one’s own whim, so many endless possibilities had opened up on that day.
Often I would find myself spending my hours sleeping rather than deal with the annoyance that was the waking world. Escaping into blissfulness that I could mold to my heart’s content was always more enjoyable than heading outside with children that glared and mocked me for my hobby. Sleeping pills, alcohol, drugs, I would use anything that would drag me away from the yelling that surrounded me in my daily life at home.
Nobody cared that I spent all my free time sleeping. Throughout highschool, college, and even my job there hasn’t been a single person who was interested in figuring out why I was so obsessed with my dreams. Even if someone did ask I never would have told them my reasoning, my theory, my goal. Our dreams are just a veil that obfuscate something that is lurking away from our sight.
Our minds play tricks on us, sending demons in our sleep to strangle the life out of us. Frozen in place we suffer through the terror of the consuming darkness washes over us. So many forms of torment that plagues our sleeping minds that only exist to discourage us to peer further into the mystery. Lucid dreaming is the key and it always has been. The ability to control our dreaming mind but what if one could delve deeper, to lucid dream within their lucid dream. I knew I was on the right path when the shadows nearly suffocated me to death the night I managed to dream within my dream.
That didn’t stop me. I was not going to let the endless whispers that now haunted my waking moments dissuade me from my path. Worse was the strain on my mind with each layer deeper I ventured. Four layers deep into my dreams and I started to see a faceless pale figure in the corner of my eye. Six layers and the words of my colleagues melted into a meaningless mess. Eight layers and I lost track of whether or not I was even awake anymore.
Finally after so many years I managed to break through. After my thirty-two long years of existence I managed to break through after going ten layers deep into the ocean of dreams. All I had wanted was the truth, the knowledge of what lay behind our minds and I got what I wanted. After breaking the restraints in my mind I found myself in a library, an endless library with books upon books for the taking.
Opening each book led me down a path of confusion as each page was filled with otherworldly scribblings. What I could only assume were words of arcane knowledge slithered on the pages and I felt my head burning in agony from just trying to decipher what I was possibly seeing. The whispers that had clawed into my waking world were now like a torrent on my aching eardrums as they mocked me like those children did so long ago. My heart broke with sorrow, so much knowledge and yet I couldn’t use any of it.
Losing myself in the labyrinth of knowledge I walked down each bending corridor. Books lined every wall but not the ones I needed. Translations were what I required and there had to be some tucked away in a dusty forgotten corner, there just had to be something. I marched for hours, for days, for what felt like years. I was just a puppet on a string searching for something that I would never find.
Long after my sanity left me I felt a presence. As I turned around I gazed upon the pale creature that had been stalking me in my reality. It was no longer hiding in my peripheral vision, it had no need to do so anymore. I stood transfixed as this eight feet tall pale monstrosity shuffled towards me. This creature had no real defining features, it was like a blank slate that longed to be written on. No mouth, no nose, no hair, nothing. Unsettlingly it moved faster than its limbs should’ve allowed, it was like it was being slowed down and sped up at the exact time.
Once the enigma of a creature closed the distance it seemed to study me over before lurching forwards to grasp my arm. I wanted to run, to scream, to wake up but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything as that hand grasped my left arm and sent the worst pain I’ve ever felt coursing through my body. I felt like a thousand scorching hot needles had pierced my arm and started to twist apart my nerve endings. I screeched out in white searing agony as I yanked my arm away so hard that I felt it pop from my socket, but the monster didn’t let go.
Waking up was both comforting and horrifying. Comforting because I was home and safe. Horrifying because my decaying arm was all I needed to see to know that what I experienced was real. Now you may be thinking why would I be telling the internet all about my experiments now after I kept it a secret for so long. Well it’s simple, I am marked for death. The whispers haven’t stopped and have only gotten louder. That pale figure is waiting for me when I sleep again so that he can finish the job. You may think this is a warning to not follow in my footsteps but that is not the case. Something is waiting for us to figure out the next key to the puzzle. I only cleared the path, now I need you to follow in my footsteps.