Synopsis: Chesulloth finds herself trapped within her own mind. At first, she is lured in with offerings of pleasantries while she sleeps. Then, her sleeping body is bound and she is plunged into all her deepest fears, forced to endure ordeal after ordeal. The only way out is to overcome her fears, but her fears aren't all they seem on the surface.
Table of Contents
Don't You Want It?
Chesie's breaths came in thick gasps as she took in the familiar white wallpaper and thick carpeting. The Man in Red held a red pump in each hand. "I think these suit you, don't you agree? Size 7 1/2, right?"
Trembling, she lowered her eyes to her legs. They were as smooth and bronze as ever. Her knees knocked together. "Get out of my head!" She hissed.
"Your head? I'm not in your head. I'm in your heart." The man smiled and held the pumps towards her. "Go on—try them."
"I was awake," Chesie panted desperately. "Why am I still here? Why couldn't I wake up? Was that a dream, too?"
The Man in Red placed the pumps on the floor and folded his hands in front of him. "You did wake up, Chesulloth. You wanted to come back."
"I wanted... ?" So it wasn't a dream within a dream? She had actually woken up? But that didn't make any sense. "Stay away from me!" She bolted out of the room and down the pinkening hallway. A white light appeared at the end of the hallway and began to shine brighter as she approached.
That was it! It was morning!
Her feet picked up the pace. Something in the periphery caught her attention. Beside her was the door to the hot tub. Her bare feet slapped the tiled floor and her lungs heaved, but she wasn't moving. The light quivered and waned and The Man in Red's face suddenly loomed above it. He clicked off a flashlight.
Her surroundings went pitch black. Again. Her heart shot into her throat.
"You can't run forever."
Her ears twitched as the slapping sound of her feet against the tile continued. But she wasn't running. She raised her arm in the darkness and touched her shoulder. She didn't feel anything. Something brushed against her leg and she jumped, letting out a shriek that pierced her own ears.
"Where are you, Chesulloth?" The Red Man's voice boomed in front of her.
Chesie took a step back. She wouldn't let him find her.
His breathing cut through the silent air like a knife. "I know where you are, Chesulloth. You're the one who's lost."
Chesie took another step back.
"Do you want me to find you?"
She took another step. She had to run. She put her hands out in front of her and she felt a solid surface. It had to be the wall. She had to face the other direction. The surface beneath her hands expanded.
"You found me, Chesulloth. But I'm not what you're looking for!"
Chesie pushed away from the surface, a sticky coating of sweat on every inch of her body. Her back thunked against something.
"Wrong again!"
She screamed and fell to the floor.
"Don't you want the answer?"
"The answer to what?" she shrieked.
The sound of his breath suddenly stopped. Chesie quivered in the silence that surrounded her. The darkness seemed to close in on her like a vice. She could see it. She could see the darkness. Her chest began to heave, but no air passed into her lungs.
Her hands finally found her face. But were they her hands? She clenched her fingers into a fist and felt the fingers roll against her skin to form the fist. She tried again to take a breath. Her back stiffened as the sensation on her face disappeared. She moved her hands but the sensation didn't return.
"I don't know where I am," her voice quivered into existence. A massive sob restarted her lung function. And the darkness retreated. She was in the hallway again, breathing air. Tears spilled from her eyes and she pressed her forehead to the tile. The cold permeated through her skin and into the bone.
She still existed.
"If you exist, then I exist, Chesulloth."
Chesie's head flew up in shock. Inches from her, The Man in Red sat in his upholstered chair, his legs crossed. "I can give you the power of certainty, Chesulloth. Don't you want it?"
"C-Certainty?"
The Man in Red waved his hand and the floor turned pitch black. Chesie's breath caught in her throat.
"For instance, certainty that the floor is solid underneath you." His familiar grin flashed onto his face, revealing normal, pearly whites. "And no need for me to say, 'don't worry,' the ground is firm beneath you."
"I don't need you for that!"
"Wise answer." The Man in Red flashed his teeth again. This time, they were pointed.
Chesie blinked and the man and chair were gone and darkness slowly settled back into the hallway. In their place, three doors stood in front of her. The one in the middle had a pointed arch like the hot tub door. The two outer doors were of rough, light brown wood.
"Open the door, Chesulloth. Tell me what you see! One door before you is the door that leads to me. Fail to make a choice, I'll whisper in your ear, and you, your tea, and comforter will simply disappear."
"Wh-What's behind the other two doors if you're behind one?"
"One contains The Man in White—he's hidden from your sight. The other gives no enlightenment to what causes your discontent."
"The Man in White? I don't want The Man in White or The Man in Red! I want to wake up!"
"So you don't believe?"
"Believe in what?" She screamed into the darkness around the doors.
"What, indeed. This darkness is yours, Chesulloth. Your creation. You created me."
"I would never create a monster!"
"You have one chance here. Answer me—what happens if you die here?"
Chesie's stomach flipped and she remained silent. It was just a dream. The Man in Red didn't exist.
One of the side doors swung open. "You've forfeited your freedom to choose." A bright white light emitted from the cracks of the middle door.
The way out. "Rot in hell!" she screamed as she scrambled to her feet and threw open the middle door.
She stepped through the doorframe and The Man in Red's laughter rang out. "The Man in White is trying so hard to get your attention, and you keep throwing him away! You want me, you know, Chesulloth."
He appeared in front of her, his arms wide. "It's okay. We can stay together. You won't have to worry about reading anymore nonsensical stories about overcoming fear." He stuck out his tongue and wagged it between his pointed teeth.
"Oh, God."
"God? Oh, Chesulloth, how flattering. I can be your god, too."
"Yes, you are a fantasy! This is all in my head! It's just a sick, sick dream from some witch."
Her fists clenched. Yes, that was it—it had to be those girls she always saw at the library, checking out books on witchcraft. They had always joked about enchanting stories to terrorize people.
"So you believe in witches? How about demons?"
"There's no such thing," she spat.
The conversation irked her, but it was the least terrifying part of this dream.
"Then why would witches exist?" His pointed teeth flashed. "What if I told you you didn't exist? That you're never going to wake again?"
She took a step back to cross over the doorframe and her back hit a wall.
"Oh, no, Chesulloth. You've made your choice. God doesn't exist! Demons don't exist. I don't exist. So, unless you're a witch... by your logic, you don't exist, either."
"Of course I exist." She felt her knees knock together as she began to tremble again. Was it called existing when she was in a dream? A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed it down with a wince.
The Man in Red shook his head. "That's not the right answer. Don't you want to free yourself from your lies?" He chuckled. "Though I love lies... I'm just trying to help." His eyes burned darkly. "No—I'm sworn to help. I've given you two chances. This is your last."
"Chances?" What was he talking about? What did it matter? She was going to wake up eventually.
"Whether you wake again depends on your answer, Chesulloth."
Chesie stood idly against the wall. There was nothing she could do except listen to his voice.
"Who gives second chances, Chesulloth?"
Her heart fluttered weakly in her chest, her distress permeating through her veins and making her dizzy. "Earlier, you asked me if I wanted to know what was behind the door. I lied. I did want to know."
"Oh, good job, Chesulloth," The Man in Red growled, a scowl distorting his features. "Just a little closer and you might actually wake up."
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