The Reality Switch

By now, it was easy. Falling into the dreamscape, that is. It became much easier than falling asleep — or waking up. What Brian didn't know at this point, however, whether that was a good or bad thing. All he knew was that while the dreamscapes were never normal. Oh, he had heard of normal dreamscapes — vacations on the beach, scapes of school or work, an easy day at home, flying — but they never happened to him. Nevertheless, they had still transformed into his reality.

Are you ready?

The machine he used to transport himself into the scape was controlled by AI. It was a newer and more expensive model, much nicer and more efficient than the ones in town. Those were run by technicians.

He nodded and the AI began to pump the formula into his system.

3...

He began to think about his family. They were just in the other room, probably finishing dinner. By the noise of clattering plates dinner must have just finished and by the sound of Jessie's laughter, Danny must have told a joke about his science teacher or made a funny face.

2...

He was such a clever boy. Jessie never complained, but he knew she must have her hands full with him after school and all of the chores that must be done. She didn't, or couldn't, understand why he went into his office every night for hours at a time to only experience a fifteen minute dream.

1...

She didn't understand that this was reality; and that reality was actually a dream.

Go.

The laughter faded as the scape took form.

***

He was in the middle of a dark maze; thick, twisted, thorny vines covered the walls.

Move. He had to move.

He began to run.

He reached a door. He flung it open and ran down a darkened corridor. Dingy glass windows framed by vines allowed him a view the half-formed creatures that lurked half hidden in the shadows beyond it. He didn't stop to stare — testing the integrity of the glass didn't seem smart.

In a blink of an eye he reached the door at the end of the hall. An unseen force opened it and pulled him through into a courtyard.

The sky was visible and in a state of eternal twilight. Six doors surrounded a fountain that lay in ruin. Six doors. Six choices.

There were no stars.

He chose a door. At least, he thought the did. He began to open it. It led to a hallway that, after the first few feet, lay in complete darkness.

Something was there. Something deep in the darkness moved. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it.

Horrified, he tried to move, but found instead himself being dragged into the dark. He tried to run back, but...

He wanted the dark.

In a single moment, the darkness became a skeletal mob of crows. The birds attacked.

Terrified, he began to run.

Another door opened. Or maybe he opened it. He ran through it.

The birds pecked his skin and clawed at his face. His mind registered pain, but he felt none.

His mouth was open in a silent scream.

He was in a forest. Autumn leaves drifted to the ground. He jumped over a creek, birds still swarming around him.

There. Up the path was a door. The frame was covered in thorns and vines.

At the door, he tried to open it. The knob wouldn't turn; it needed a key. Panicked, he didn't register that a key hung from the tree above his head. Even if he had, it was just out of his reach.

Birds clawed at his back. He turned.

The monsters from beyond the glass were running out of the door he had just come through. They would be on him in a second.

He spun to try the door again.

A crow cawed and flew up into his face, claws outstretched.

His eyes —

***

Brian woke with a start. The dimly lit light in his office cast the room half into shadow. Breathing fast, he got up and locked the door — protocol after every dreamscape episode. As he settled back into his chair, he checked the clock. By this time, his office lights would be the only lights on in the house. They would have been for awhile.

He settled into his chair and the AI reset the alarm: a reminder for another session tomorrow.

"Goodnight," Brian said.

There was no reply.

Brian slowly drifted off into a restless, dreamless sleep.

He hadn't dreamed in years.