Faceless, a friend of his, has told me not to do it. Although he knows that nothing can sway my determination. It seems like Faceless has knowledge of something that I am dying to know, and therefore, I am even more passionate about entering his dream.
He has been having a recurring nightmare. Lying on the bed next to him, I close my eyes thinking that I am about to enter his dream …
I spring my head out of the water, gasping for air. So this is his dreamwater. The sweet smell of rose invades my nostrils, stinging me with its invisible thorns. Suffocating. The water itself is pinkish, opaque and sticky. The quality of dreamwater reflects the types of dream one is having. Because the dreamwater gives an impression of strange uncanniness, this is no doubt a nightmare. I fumble out of the pond of dreamwater and look around. Within my sight, there is only a sumptuous palace located North. I head in that direction.
I push open the heavy metal door. This palace is guarded. But since I am a figure from outside of the dream, the guards can see nothing, except the movement of the door. That startles them a little.
I go further inside and push open the second door. Immediately I am surprised by the disconnectedness of this palace: the wall paintings are delicate and exquisite but in the middle, there is a huge battered cage made of corroded gold. Inside, there are about thirty people, and I see him. Dirty, filthy, the owner of the dream. Our protagonist is here, now I just need to find the source of evil (Rupter, that’s what we call the antagonists in nightmares). We need to obliterate it so that he will be freed from this nightmare forever.
A deafening sound rises from the thin air and announces that the next battle will start in five seconds. Everyone except for the two fighters leaves the cage. I can see that he is one of the fighters. The other candidate takes me a few seconds to register as Faceless.
The battle starts. Faceless throws his fists into his opponent’s face. Blood streams down his nostrils immediately. Go! Strike back! I shout. But he doesn’t, and he won’t strike back, probably because Faceless is his friend. He merely stares forward, at me, through me. I begin to doubt my transparency in this dream. He is not supposed to be able to see me, right?
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The Controller enters with a few servants following him. He is wearing a pink mask. It looks like a distorted rose. He parades around the cage, taking a piece of meat passed from the servant. Faceless leans forward eagerly like a dog, waiting to be fed by his owner. But he merely goes back and forth staring at me and the Controller. He really can see me. Well, it is not unreasonable. After all, I am an important person to him. Sometimes people can see others in dreams if those people are important enough to them.
My time has come. I stride swiftly forward and extract an arrow from my back. I put it onto my bow. And at the exact moment the Controller extends his hand to deliver the meat to Faceless, I shoot the arrow. The arrow hits his mask. The distorted rose loosens, breaks free, and falls down.
The next moments are shrouded in a blur. Behind the mask, I see a face identical to my own. Suddenly, he laughs heartily in the cage, a roaring and hysteric laugh. The world whirls around me as my head registers one thing:
I am the Controller. I am the Rupter in this nightmare.
I am the nightmare for him. And I have become the nightmare of myself.
