Today’s flash fiction prompt: Write about a dream monitor. Your protagonist is someone whose job is to monitor dreams. But on this particular night they spot something interesting.
Into the Woods
“There are three things you need to be mindful of when doing your rounds. First, is the color. Anything purple is bad news. White’s rare, but between you and me, those are the best dreams. You see a white, do yourself a favor and take a peek. See purple? Call a supervisor.”
I nod, scribbling down notes as I do a walk through with my new DMP – Dream Monitor Partner. He’ll be with me until my probation period ends. We pass by row after row of dream pods, tufts of cloud that change color with each dream sequence. Give the pod a pinch, and it opens up to a preview of the current dream.
“Second is the frequency. High numbers are a sign of distress and can cause a system overload. Four dreams or more in one pod, call a supervisor.”
“Right. And what’s the third thing?”
My DMP stops abruptly, narrows his eyes at me and frowns. “See that room over there?” He points to a room with a narrow entry. Only a handful of pods line the walls inside, but a sign reading ‘Keep Out’ hangs from the entryway. “Heed the sign. It’s for top monitors only.”
“Why? What’s in there?”
“You don’t wanna know.”
But I do. And though I manage to ignore the room for much of the first week, the second week, I find myself walking slower and slower as I pass it.
If it’s such a big deal, why isn’t there a door? Or a lock? I can clearly see the pods inside.
Day eight of my probation, I see for myself. One of the pods, a thick one with soft, pink coloring, bubbles out as a Senior DM pinches it between her fingers. I’ve not finished my rounds yet, but the dream sequence is set in a forest, lush and green with trilling birds and gentle breezes. I linger by the entryway, and a soft wind swirls past the ‘Keep Out’ sign and tickles my left ear. I can smell the sweet pine, taste the woods at the tip of my tongue.
I close my eyes, and when I open them again, I’m inside the dream. I smile and place my hand on the smooth bark of a beech tree. It’s warm from the sun, and shivering with life. Ants crawl along its base, birds and squirrels furrow out nests, and I soak it all in.
This is wonderful. I never knew dreams could be so immersive. I explore the woods, rubbing flower petals with my fingertips and sampling berries from bushes. But I pick the wrong bush.
A grizzly paw swipes at me, bellowing in menacing tones and blocking my view of the berries. The bear growls again, standing on its hindquarters before giving chase.
I bolt through the forest, heart pounding, mouth suddenly dry. But I’m not gaining any ground, and the bear’s getting closer and closer. I stumble to the ground, forgetting entirely that this is a dream and dreams can’t hurt me. The bear catches up to me, grabs me by the shoulders, and gives me a shake.
“Come to your senses!” It barks at me in the voice of my DMP.
I shake my head, delirious, and quell the screams congregating in my throat. A few blinks later, the DMP stands in front me, lips halfway between a smirk and a scowl. Cotton balls tumble from my mouth and, I give him a curious look.
“Caught up, weren’t you?”
“It was the dream!” I point towards the forbidden room, which now has a door unquestionably blocking my view. My DMP chuckles and hoists me to my feet.
“Those aren’t dreams. They’re hallucinations.”
I stare at him, bemused, and he sighs.
“Every year we get a newbie in here who thinks he can handle the H Room, then gets sucked into one of the pods. Takes a whole lotta manpower to pull them out, so we started beating you greenbacks to the punch. Hope you don’t mind a little hazing, but it’s best to get it out the way now, while someone can catch you. Left to yourself, you would have eaten all the cotton out of poor Stuffy here.” He points to the plush bear I keep on my desk. It’s firmly in my grasp, with several tears along the neckline and cotton bits everywhere.
“So there’s usually a door there?” Of all the questions swirling in my mind, that one feels the safest. How could I get swept away like that?
“Yep. We take the hinges off whenever we’ve got a new trainee. You lasted longer than I expected, though. Most junior DMs only manage three days before getting sucked in.” He helps me to my feet. “Wanna grab a bite?”
I nod, feeling a bit drained, and follow him out of the dream station. But I have one more question. “Hey, what happens if I get sucked in, and you guys can’t get me out?”
My DMP sucks his teeth and shakes his head. “You don’t wanna know.”
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