I did it.
This isn't a guess. I feel it in the absence of gravity, in the impossible sharpness of the colors. My physical body sleeps in my bed, but I am here.
I am awake inside my own dream.
I look at my hands. They have ten fingers, perfectly defined, without the usual blur of nightmares. I take a deep breath, and the air tastes like ozone and static electricity.
"Appear before me," I command firmly, imposing my will on the dream matter. "Gate to the Spiritual World!"
The space in front of me distorts. The air vibrates like a violin string about to snap and, out of nowhere, it materializes.
It's imposing. A door of ancient black wood, crossed with veins of golden light that pulse like living arteries. It emanates a power that makes the skin of my dream avatar prickle.
I walk toward it. My footsteps make no sound.
I extend my hand. Touch the cold doorknob. Turn it.
Nothing.
I push hard.
"Shit…" I growl, pounding the wood with my fist. "Why won't you open? I followed the rituals. I've meditated for years. Open!"
"Eduur… what do you think you're doing?"
The voice echoes through the entire space; it doesn't come from any single point. It comes from the walls, the floor, the back of my neck.
I spin on my heels, searching for the intruder.
"Who's there? How do you know my name?" I shout into the void. "I need to open this door! Lives are at stake!"
The voice sounds again. Deep, raspy—a distorted, darker version of my own voice.
"I am what you repress. I am the owner of this realm. I am your subconscious. And let me tell you something, little Eduur: you are not worthy."
A surge of anger rises in me.
"Not worthy?" I scream into the nothingness. "I've dedicated my life to studying the mind! I need to cross over to speak with the Supreme Being! I need power to save the children!"
A dry, humorless laugh fills the air.
"Save the children? How noble. How… boring."
"I'm not crazy," I murmur, squeezing my eyes shut. "I need the impossible. The police do nothing. The law is useless. I need to heal them, protect them… and punish the guilty."
Silence.
Then the voice whispers right into my ear, so close I feel a real shiver.
"Punish… I like that better. I understand your desire, Eduur. That door will stay closed until your soul is ready, but… I can offer you a deal."
"What deal?"
"Summon me in the waking world. Give me the wheel. I will be your strength. I will control your body. Now… wake up."
The world shatters into a thousand crystal shards.
---
I gasp awake.
My room is dim, lit only by the orange glow of the streetlight outside. My chest rises and falls violently. Sweat drenches the sheets.
"He kicked me out of the dream…" I whisper, touching my temple. "If I'm not calling you 'subconscious,' then I'll call you Anima."
I look at the digital clock on the nightstand.
05:00 AM.
The witching hour has passed, but my demon is just waking up.
I get up. The floor is cold. I get dressed quickly—black clothes, loose and comfortable. Clothes that won't get in the way. I look at myself in the mirror before leaving. Deep eye bags, messy black hair, a gaze that has lost the spark of youth. I'm 26, but I feel a hundred.
I leave the house. The city sleeps, but evil never rests.
I walk to a dead-end alley, far from security cameras, far from curious eyes. The dawn air cuts against my face.
This is the moment of truth. I'm either a prophet or a schizophrenic.
I close my eyes. Breathe. Search for that sensation—that dark thread I touched in the dream.
"Let's see if you're real," I murmur. "I hope you are, because if not, I'm just a lunatic talking to a wall."
I clench my fists.
"Take control of my body, Anima. I summon you!"
It feels like falling into a bottomless pit.
Darkness swallows me.
My consciousness shuts off like a TV unplugged.
---
Hahahahaha.
I open my eyes. Or rather, I open Eduur's eyes.
I stretch my arms. My neck cracks. Ah, gravity. Heavy and delicious. This boy's body is strong, but stiff. It lacks fluidity.
"Well, well," I say, and my voice sounds different in this throat—more guttural. "He really did it. The idiot gave me control. Now… time to fulfill my fantasies."
I smile, and I know that if anyone saw me, they would run. It's a smile that never reaches the eyes.
I walk toward the mouth of the alley. Eduur wants to "save children." I want… fun.
I close my eyes for a second and visualize the map of the city—but not like a GPS. I see it as a trail of scents. Fear has a sour smell. Evil smells like sulfur.
"Take me where there's blood," I command reality. "Take me to the prey."
I activate the ability. I don't walk.
Space folds.
I feel the pressure of a thousand atmospheres crushing me and, in a blink—Pop!
The asphalt vanishes. My boots land on damp soil and dry leaves.
I'm in a wooded area, on the outskirts. In front of me, hidden among the trees, is a clearing with three camping tents and a poorly extinguished campfire.
Armed men. Vulgar laughter. The smell of cheap tobacco and gunpowder.
"Just what I wanted," I whisper. "But showing up empty-handed is bad manners."
I extend my right hand to the side. Visualize my dream arsenal. Reality tears slightly, releasing blue sparks.
I reach into the dimensional rift and grab.
When I pull back, I'm holding a matte-black pistol, heavy.
I reach again and pull out a curved blade, sharp as a sigh.
And on my chest, I materialize the weight of a tactical bulletproof vest.
"Let's see what color they are on the inside."
---
I step out of the bushes, walking casually.
"Hello, assholes!" I shout cheerfully. "Were you expecting me?"
The four men sitting around the dying fire jump to their feet. Their automatic rifles rise instantly, aiming at my chest.
"Who the fuck are you?" growls the biggest one, a guy with scars all over his face.
I point the pistol at them, resting the sword over my shoulder with disdain.
"I'm your worst nightmare," I chuckle softly. "Or maybe… your punishment."
They glance at each other and burst into laughter.
"You think you alone can take us?" one of them scoffs, spitting on the ground. "Idiot. Kill him."
Their fingers tighten on the triggers.
"I alone am enough."
At the exact moment they fire, I'm no longer there.
I teleport three meters behind them. Their bullets tear through the empty air where my body stood a millisecond ago.
Bang. Bang.
I fire at point-blank range into the backs of the two closest men's skulls. They drop like sacks of potatoes before the echo of their own shots even fades.
"What?!" the scarred man screams, spinning around. "Where is he?!"
"Here."
I appear at his left.
The sword whistles.
A clean, horizontal slice, right across the stomach.
Blood gushes out in hot, thick waves. The man tries to hold his intestines in with his hands, eyes bulging from shock.
"Shit! He's a monster!" shouts the last one still standing.
He throws his gun and bolts into the forest.
"Oh, no. No running."
I jump—and use dream momentum. I leap ten meters in a second and land in front of him. I kick him in the chest so hard his ribs crack, sending him crashing onto his back.
I stand over him and press the sword's tip against his throat.
"Look at you," I say with contempt. "Shaking like a dog. Hahaha. Alright, straight to the point. Where are the kids? Where are the kidnapped victims?"
The man sobs, snot and blood mixing on his face.
"What kids?" he stammers, terrified. "For god's sake, you're crazy! We're not kidnappers!"
I press the sword a bit harder. A thin line of blood trickles down his neck.
"Don't lie to me. You reek of evil."
"We're poachers!" he shrieks. "We hunt exotic animals! We were just resting! We don't have anyone!"
I stop. Blink.
Look at the tents.
Look at the empty cages in the back.
Right. Those are animal cages, not human ones.
"Shit…" I sigh, scratching my head with the barrel of the pistol. "What a headache. I messed up the location. My sense of smell fooled me."
I look at the man on the ground. He's staring at me with a spark of hope.
"Will… will you let me go? It was a mistake, right?"
I smile. A terrible smile.
"A miscalculation, yes. But Eduur can't find out I killed four idiots by accident. He's very… sensitive."
"What? No! Please! I swear I won't say—"
"Shhh."
I drive the sword down.
The sound is wet and final. The man stops moving.
I get up, shaking the blood off the blade. The scene is grotesque. Bodies, blood, the stench of death.
"What a mess," I say out loud. "Well, time's up. My energy's running out."
I feel the pull. The extreme fatigue of the physical body. The connection snaps.
"Good luck explaining this to yourself, Eduur."
---
"Ahhhg!"
Pain hits first.
It's like someone jammed an ice pick straight into the center of my skull. My knees buckle and I collapse onto the ground.
"Shit, my head…" I groan, pressing my hands against my temples. I feel something sticky on my fingers.
I open my eyes with difficulty. My vision spins.
"Where… am I? Did it work? Anima, what did you do?"
The smell hits me.
Metallic. Coppery. Thick.
I look at my hands. They're red.
I look at my clothes. Splattered with dark stains.
I stagger to my feet, wobbling, as the moonlight reveals the clearing.
"No…" The air escapes my lungs.
Four men.
Destroyed.
One decapitated, another ripped open.
The ground is a swamp of mud and blood.
No children.
No hostages.
Just death.
My heart hammers so hard it hurts. I don't remember anything. I don't know who they were. I don't know if they were good or bad.
All I know is… I killed them.
And in the distance, I hear the unmistakable wail of police sirens getting closer.