A Dream Is But A Shadow

The world around her was lost. Trapped within her own mind, Agatha’s thoughts and memories draped over her shoulders like a blanket. As they fell into place, they nestled and crushed down on her—down to her bones. She wanted to scream, yearned for it as if it would be a release. All her cries were for naught — nobody could hear the screams in her mind.

Then a warmth brushed her tear-stained cheeks, like a hand gently wiping her tears away. The overwhelming thoughts retreated, and every dark, terrible memory shrank away from her. The heavy weight on her shoulders released her.

For the first time in a long time, she could finally breathe, but only for a moment before the assault on her mind returned stronger than before, bringing her to her knees. The warmth grew into a flame and flowed through her veins, from finger to toe—the pressure finally withdrew as the fire burned away at her. An incessant buzzing filled her ears. Louder and louder it grew until she clung desperately to her ears, trying to shut out the piercing whine. She clasped so hard that the pain from her earring posts digging into her head almost distracted from the burning in her veins and the sharp wail, growing respectively hotter and louder.

In a split second, the pain, the burning, the buzzing — all of it stopped. So abruptly, she staggered.

The background of her dream dimmed to black, and her eyes opened to the soft blue glow of her clock. Early morning traffic settled in her ears; train horns and coffee-deprived commuters still sounded few. Agatha glanced at the time and sighed. Three in the morning, four more hours to go, she thought. She tried rolling over and going back to sleep, but the dream simply wouldn’t allow it.

Wide awake, she begrudgingly left the warm nest she’d made of her blankets and wandered through the empty house. The wooden floor was like ice on her feet. She shivered as she walked through the halls. The old, warped wooden floors creaked with every other step, no matter how lightly she stepped.

She clasped the banister and took ginger steps down the stairs. As she stepped onto the bottom stair, it let out the loudest creak she had ever heard, breaking the peaceful sanctuary downstairs.

The beasts, previously asleep on their cushions, ambushed her, tails wagging and jaws open in canine smiles. They were unaware of the buzzing creeping in the hind of Agatha’s mind and the more than subtle warmth spreading from her fingers.

The surrounding room dimmed to black, and her eyes opened to the soft blue glow of her clock. Rain tapped on her window. With a flash of lightning, Agatha jolted up in her bed.

She whispered under breath. “One…two…three…four…“

A roll of thunder followed.

“Something’s wrong.”

Agatha whipped her head around, searching the room for the voice.

“She’s waking up.”

“No, it’s too soon,” a second voice said. Agatha felt the hair rise on the back of her neck.

“Hello?” she called. “Who’s there?” The sound of scurrying downstairs and a stampede up the stairs meant the beasts were on the way.

“There is some unusual brain activity in the cortex.” One voice added, “Sir, the circuit seems to spread faster than the solution can counteract.”

Agatha heard another voice sigh. “Well, it would seem this subject is growing too tolerant of the solution levels. Decrease the dilution; maybe a stronger dose will keep the circuit from overloading.”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous? She could have a higher chance of brain death.”

“Then at least we’ll learn something from this subject, won’t we?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

The room faded to black, and she opened her eyes to the soft red glow of her clock. The street below her window was still, as the world outside still slept. Agatha glanced at the time and sighed. One in the morning, six more to go, she thought. She tried rolling over and returning to sleep, but a subtle pain blooming at the base of her skull kept her dreams at bay.

Wide awake, she stood and wandered through the empty apartment. The warped wooden floors felt cool against her feet.

Agatha opened the door to the bathroom and sorted through her medicine cabinet to find something to block the migraine that threatened to take hold. She cursed as she knocked over several pill bottles that tumbled into the sink.

She closed the cabinet door and switched on a light. Something in the mirror caught her eye as she sorted through bottles in the sink.

An etched message in the mirror drained the blood from her face. She gripped the side of the sink until her knuckles were bone-white.

They will kill you.

Embrace the solution. -F

Agatha’s knees gave out under her, and she coughed. Her lungs felt as if they were filled with water. Spots dotted her vision, and her fingers itched and burned. A sharp, piercing whine permeated her thoughts.

“What is happening?” She heard a voice come from over her shoulder.

“I don’t know, sir,” said a voice on her other side. “It just started. It appeared like a simple fear response, but I believe her brain is reacting to the higher dose of solution.”

Agatha clutched the back of her neck and winced when she felt the burning in her hands. The whine pierced the base of her skull like a sharp needle.

“Terminate the subject.”

“Sir? Are you sure we shouldn’t try another reset?”

“No, Finnegan. Too much more of this and she’ll burn out completely. Wipe the experiment.”

Agatha wanted to scream, but all that came was a mouth full of salty water.

The bathroom faded to black, and she opened her eyes to the soft blue glow of the pod’s status lights. She flailed and gasped, the ionized solution invading her mouth. She clawed at the pod’s wall as a shrill whine stabbed her mind.

The whine abruptly stopped. From a speaker in the pod's ceiling, a mic clicked on.

“It’s alright, Agatha. It was to be expected.” A cold voice spoke. “The first time is always the hardest. We can try again tomorrow. Why don’t you go home and have a nice dinner. Rest well. We’ll start again in the morning. As mentioned to you before we started, remember to keep the experiments here between us.”

Rest? she thought. Agatha doubted she could sleep; the thought of food made her nauseous. She nodded, as she knew they were watching for her response. The sooner she could leave, the better. Lest she get swept up in another dream. Her neck burned, her fingers itched. Her head felt as if someone bored a hole through it. The more she thought about it, the more the sensations grew.

She heard the hiss of the pod unsealing. Bright light leaked out as it opened. Spots dotted her vision.

Gloved hands reached out for her, helping her to stand. Her legs felt like jelly. Agatha couldn’t stand on her own, much less step out of the pod, though she tried. Her foot caught on the lip of the pod. Her arms were slick from the solution that coated her. She fell, and the lab faded to black.

She fought the last dregs of sleep as her alarm sounded in her ear. Her eyes opened to the soft blue glow of her alarm. A lump under the blankets wiggled and crawled its way out and butted at her face, now that she dared move and could only be awake to feed and pay attention to the poor petulant creature.

Agatha must not have slept too well last night, she thought. Her head ached fiercely, and there was the faintest tingle in her fingers.