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
You've Got a Friend in Red
The soft white walls grew pinker as they walked. She looked back and could still see the white walls of the hallway's entrance. Ahead of her were rosy reds. Chesie smiled at the complexity of her dream state. Her smile melted away as her eyes fixed on the back of the man in front of her and a shudder ran through her.
Why didn't he just have a normal name? It wasn't like her to not give names.
Her mind drifted back to her nightly routine--interrupted by a realization that she was out of tea and utterly ruined by that horrid piece of fiction. The Man in Red came to a stop in front of a doorway.
"What do you think is behind these doors, Chesulloth?" A grin spread onto his face.
Chesie grimaced as she glanced at the sturdy double doors, their rounded sides coming to a pointed arch. A triangulated extension reached to the ceiling, exaggerating the point of the arch. She swallowed.
"I don't know."
"Do you want to know?"
"No." The word fell from her lips and her palms grew sweaty.
"Do you know why these doors are designed as such?" He asked, running a finger along the ascending arch.
"I don't--"
His hand pointed to the pinnacle of the triangle. The tip squared off as it surpassed the ceiling. "They reach heaven," the man continued, another grin spreading across his face. "It's all about ascension."
"A-Ascension?" Chesie looked around nervously before her eyes fixed on the triangle's hidden top. She thought he was leading her to a hot tub.
Was that what was behind the door?
The Man in Red pushed both doors open in one swift motion. Chesie took three quick steps back. He chuckled warmly. "And here's the Jacuzzi."
Light poured into the hallway. Chesie tentatively peered into the room, the sound of bubbling water reaching her ears. Warmth poured out the room in clouds that gathered around her feet.
A heavy feeling sat in the pit of her stomach, suffocating her desire to see how much of her dream she could feel. She could hardly be relieved at the sight of the hot tub. But why was she so tense?
"Th-Thanks, but I--"
"Care to join me for a game of cards?"
Chesie cleared her throat. It was time to feel like she was in charge again.
"How about you--"
The Man in Red wagged a finger. "That's not how friends work!"
"Friends? I thought you were my butler."
He put a hand over his mouth dramatically.
Chesie frowned. This dream was odd. It felt as if she were toeing a fine line between a normal dream and a nightmare.
If it didn't want to be a sweet dream, she would make it a sweet dream.
She thought back to the lime green sheets and focused on removing The Man in Red's presence from her mind. If it were up to her, he'd be in a pinstriped tweed suit, anyway.
The man's red suit suddenly seemed sharper.
"As a friend, not a butler, I'd like to treat you to some chamomile tea."
Chesie blinked, her mouth open to speak, but her mind went blank as they returned to the bedroom.
Tea sounded good, too.
The plush carpet greeted her bare feet. She looked nervously at the bed. It was like being in her most intimate space with a stranger.
"You're most familiar with this room, so I thought you'd enjoy your tea best here." He turned and a small, round table appeared behind him, laden with a green cast iron pot, identical to her own. He lifted the pot and the room instantly filled with the familiar, alluring scent of chamomile tea.
The aroma calmed Chesulloth's nerves, but she couldn't get rid of all her unease. She seemed to have limited control over this dream, but she had been so sure it was a lucid dream. That had changed when The Man in Red appeared. It was almost as if it were his dream.
What did he symbolize? Why was he in her dream? Her eyes fixed on his fingertips as he poured the thin liquid into two tiny teacups.
"Relax, Chesulloth. You'll wake up tense!" His voice reminded her of her father scolding her for not taking care of her health.
Fussing over her when he should have been worried about his own health. The Man in Red held one of the cups out to her and she took it, the heat of the tea through the ceramic cup singeing her fingertips. She quickly stepped towards the tiny table and returned the cup to its saucer. Her eyes trailed along the table, to the elaborate carvings on the doorframes, and up to the vaulted ceiling. Her dreams had never been so detailed.
The Man in Red took a seat in an upholstered chair that appeared behind him. Chesie felt something push against her legs and looked back to see its twin behind her. She sat wordlessly. It was about time for the light to stream into her window and wake her, wasn't it? She couldn't remember being conscious of a dream for so long. She could write a book on this one.
"Please, try the tea, Chesulloth. It's my personal blend."
Chesie sighed and picked up the warm ceramic, pressing the rim close enough to her lips to let a few drops find her tongue. Her eyes lit up. This tea was her own blend. She smiled sweetly at The Man in Red. So he was just the masculine, White version of her. She didn't know she had that kind of fetish. Her eyes fell to the trim of his bright blazer.
Especially not for red suits.
Her brow furrowed as she stared at him. Maybe he was her alter ego. She took a long draught of the tea and felt it course down her throat, warming her entire body. She sighed and leaned back in the chair, her eyes closing.
This was it. This was the moment when her dream would change completely. Or she'd wake up.
"You know, Manny," she drawled, "we could be friends."
Her ears twitched as she heard a chair scrape against the floor. Weren't they in a carpeted room?
"Oh, I hope we get along well, Chesulloth."
Her eyes opened to see what changes her dream had undergone. The Man in Red stood inches from her face, his teeth sharpened to points and pulled back in a grin. She drew back in her chair and scrambled to the side to get away. The chair toppled over and she realized her surroundings were pitch black. Her hands were resting on a slate grey surface, but everything else was black. She looked back.
So why could she still see him?
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