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Beyond the door
You are dreaming.
And yet, your surroundings are unchanged.
As if time had been rewound, you find yourself standing in the small room once again.
You can't help feeling disappointed, but more than that, you are lost; you begin moving back and forth, left and right, aimlessly, fruitlessly. In the end, you stop in place, and simply stand there, bewildered.
A distinct sense of discomfort creeps over you, rooting your feet to the floor. Given enough time, you come to notice the subtle differences in this dream-room, like a spot-the-differences game.
The cus.h.i.+ons are not in the same places. The game machine is nowhere to be seen, as if a means of killing time is no longer necessary. Beyond the gla.s.s door, from the veranda, one can see soft, gentle beams of light. It isn't a closed s.p.a.ce anymore. It isn't empty. No-- it gives off a sense of freedom. But the biggest change of all... is the sound. As their body moves, humans subconsciously ignore heartbeats, the sounds of breathing, and the creaks, pumps and squelches made by internal organs, joints, bones, and meat. But suddenly, every single one of those noises resounds clearly in your ears. It's as though by falling asleep, you have finally started to truly live. Though it's a dream, it feels nothing like one.
Rather, it feels like you had been sleeping all this time, and have only now opened your eyes...
The boundary between dream and reality slowly grows muddled. Having gathered your wits and just maybe expecting something to happen, you walk softly towards the door. There is a quiet confidence in your steps -- not a drop of hesitation.
Gently, you wrap your hand around the door k.n.o.b. At that moment, the television screen flickers. Inside it appears someone's sneering eye, its blinking set to an eerie rhythm. Without a doubt, it's looking at you.
But you don't notice it. You can only focus on getting away from this cramped, suffocating room. And so, leaning your entire weight on it, you push the door open all the way. The door makes a snoring noise, and you stumble forward. On the other side of the door, a bizarre, mysterious scenery is spread out before you. You stand motionless as you take it in, as if in sleep paralysis. Around you is darkness, and beneath your feet swim the images of demons and G.o.ds. But you have no interest in them, and the wicked grins on their faces affect you not.
Seeing you pay them no mind, they become welcoming and docile, inviting you to walk on. And you do, until you find yourself standing in a nexus of doors. Even though there is no light, the shape of each door is clearly cut against the darkness, refusing to be swallowed by it. You count one, two, three... twelve doors, forming a circle like the hours in a clock, and you in the middle. None of the doors seems to be inviting you to open them -- opening doors, after all, takes courage, and that holds especially true for this set of doors in particular, with their strange, unsettling designs. And yet, despite your hesitance, you are at the same time eager to see what lies past them. You can feel your heart beating fast in your chest-- like when one is in love, or when one is excited before a great discovery. So fast that, if you had a scab, thick, revolting blood would probably start to flow from it. One door seems to have the legs of a spider st.i.tched to its surface. Another one looks as if it had been banged on by dozens of bloodied hands in a frantic attempt to force it open. Yet another one seems to have a living, wet eye on it. Another is embedded with glaring neon lights, like those in the dangerous part of the city, where one could easily get a headache from the bright, flas.h.i.+ng lights... Walking through the circle of doors, you closely examine each one.
As it'd seem, you haven't quite managed to overcome your reluctance to touch them. So for now, you're only looking.
In truth, you just might be on a desperate search for a hint, something-- anything at all-- that could tell you which door would be the best to open. For example, looking at it as a clock, it might be a good idea to start from the one at one o'clock, and keep going clockwise. Or maybe you're on the wrong track altogether, and the most eye-catching one looks that way on purpose, so that you'd go through it first. Conversely, maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea to take a look at what lies across the plainest one... But you don't let yourself keep pondering for long.
Logic won't work here, you realize, and there doesn't seem to be any one correct answer. There's no one to guide you, either. Looking at it this way, there's really no reason to think about it too deeply. You aren't being rushed, but as if you hated the idea of meeting someone's eerie grin in the dark,... with the clear intention of using it for its intended purpose, you gently close your fingers around the k.n.o.b of the nearest door. You open it. And finally, you step into the other side.
A distinct sense of discomfort creeps over you, rooting your feet to the floor. Given enough time, you come to notice the subtle differences in this dream-room, like a spot-the-differences game.
The cus.h.i.+ons are not in the same places. The game machine is nowhere to be seen, as if a means of killing time is no longer necessary. Beyond the gla.s.s door, from the veranda, one can see soft, gentle beams of light. It isn't a closed s.p.a.ce anymore. It isn't empty. No-- it gives off a sense of freedom. But the biggest change of all... is the sound. As their body moves, humans subconsciously ignore heartbeats, the sounds of breathing, and the creaks, pumps and squelches made by internal organs, joints, bones, and meat. But suddenly, every single one of those noises resounds clearly in your ears. It's as though by falling asleep, you have finally started to truly live. Though it's a dream, it feels nothing like one.
Rather, it feels like you had been sleeping all this time, and have only now opened your eyes...
The boundary between dream and reality slowly grows muddled. Having gathered your wits and just maybe expecting something to happen, you walk softly towards the door. There is a quiet confidence in your steps -- not a drop of hesitation.
Gently, you wrap your hand around the door k.n.o.b. At that moment, the television screen flickers. Inside it appears someone's sneering eye, its blinking set to an eerie rhythm. Without a doubt, it's looking at you.
But you don't notice it. You can only focus on getting away from this cramped, suffocating room. And so, leaning your entire weight on it, you push the door open all the way. The door makes a snoring noise, and you stumble forward. On the other side of the door, a bizarre, mysterious scenery is spread out before you. You stand motionless as you take it in, as if in sleep paralysis. Around you is darkness, and beneath your feet swim the images of demons and G.o.ds. But you have no interest in them, and the wicked grins on their faces affect you not.
Seeing you pay them no mind, they become welcoming and docile, inviting you to walk on. And you do, until you find yourself standing in a nexus of doors. Even though there is no light, the shape of each door is clearly cut against the darkness, refusing to be swallowed by it. You count one, two, three... twelve doors, forming a circle like the hours in a clock, and you in the middle. None of the doors seems to be inviting you to open them -- opening doors, after all, takes courage, and that holds especially true for this set of doors in particular, with their strange, unsettling designs. And yet, despite your hesitance, you are at the same time eager to see what lies past them. You can feel your heart beating fast in your chest-- like when one is in love, or when one is excited before a great discovery. So fast that, if you had a scab, thick, revolting blood would probably start to flow from it. One door seems to have the legs of a spider st.i.tched to its surface. Another one looks as if it had been banged on by dozens of bloodied hands in a frantic attempt to force it open. Yet another one seems to have a living, wet eye on it. Another is embedded with glaring neon lights, like those in the dangerous part of the city, where one could easily get a headache from the bright, flas.h.i.+ng lights... Walking through the circle of doors, you closely examine each one.
As it'd seem, you haven't quite managed to overcome your reluctance to touch them. So for now, you're only looking.
In truth, you just might be on a desperate search for a hint, something-- anything at all-- that could tell you which door would be the best to open. For example, looking at it as a clock, it might be a good idea to start from the one at one o'clock, and keep going clockwise. Or maybe you're on the wrong track altogether, and the most eye-catching one looks that way on purpose, so that you'd go through it first. Conversely, maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea to take a look at what lies across the plainest one... But you don't let yourself keep pondering for long.
Logic won't work here, you realize, and there doesn't seem to be any one correct answer. There's no one to guide you, either. Looking at it this way, there's really no reason to think about it too deeply. You aren't being rushed, but as if you hated the idea of meeting someone's eerie grin in the dark,... with the clear intention of using it for its intended purpose, you gently close your fingers around the k.n.o.b of the nearest door. You open it. And finally, you step into the other side.
