Symbiosis - Dreaming

2543 (22-3rd-6) New Calendar - Prima Centurai

She was in the medlab, but she was bored. Casually she pulled the leg off of the bed and peeled off an entire plasteel wall, rolling it up into a tight spiral. Outside was a double row of trees, marching away into the distance in front of her; but they looked like Nut, green and bulbous at the base with the white roots snaking into the sky and interlocking with each other over her head. Yet there was an impression of green there somewhere, of leaves, on the edge of her mind… She struggled for it, but it slipped though her fingers; impatiently she pushed the feeling away, and ran forwards, down the channel made by the trees. She revelled in the speed at which she was moving, almost flying.

A lake appeared, so she went in, remembering to hold her breath. It was blue underwater. Presently, she realised that she wanted to breathe, so she did, only vaguely registering her surprise that she was able to do so. Shadows moved, and she became scared, so she left –

- and was in a dark room, unable to see anything but the rectangle of the doorframe, shining yellow with the illumination behind it. She was terrified; tears drenched her cheeks as she cowered beneath the bed-frame, her heart beating so hard that it physically hurt and deafened her slightly, her hands balled into fists and clenched between her teeth until the blood ran from them. Her entire body ached, every muscle locked tight and trembling. She stared at the door, willing it to stay closed.

Footsteps approached it outside, and she bit back a whimper, petrified of making the slightest sound. Every footstep sounded loudly, each an individual earthquake that slowly grew louder as he came nearer. The flooring creaked three steps from the door, and she squeezed her fists so tightly that her fingernails sliced into her palms. The footsteps slowed, and stopped; the line of light at the bottom of the door was blocked with two shadows. In her head, she screamed.

The door creaked, and slid open, revealing his silhouette, fat and swaying. The smell of ethylene wafted into the room, mixed sickeningly with that of stale sweat and vomit. She gagged, silently. He stepped forward, and her heart beat so hard it made her dizzy and nauseous.

“Where are you?” he whispered, his voice rasping and slurred. He giggled, and shut the door, plunging the room into darkness again. She closed her eyes and wished that she was anywhere else, hoping and willing him to leave.

“I know you’re in here, precious,” he cooed. “’S no use hiding from me, I find you in a bit…”

He staggered forward towards the bed, but the ethylene toppled him. He crashed to the floor with a yelp and a curse, his forehead grazing the bed-frame and landing six inches from hers. She shrank back, but he heard the movement and looked right at her, physical pain turning to anger turning to blame.

“Get out here,” he snarled, the stench of his breath hitting her full in the face. She cried out, all attempts to hide abandoned as she frantically tried to scurry back but he was too quick for her, seizing her hair with one hand and dragging her out. She screamed with the pain, and received a blow full across the face before being thrown face-down onto the bed –

And woke up screaming.

A4386A leapt off of her bed, her legs tangling in the sheets and tripping her up. She hit the floor and thrashed until they tore, then struggled to the vitruvium and leaned against the panels, ripping the last shreds of the sheets off her legs and pushing herself into the corner of the room. A part of her mind, unaffected by the panic, watched her reaction and tried to analyse it. She was fleeing, trying to be as far away as possible from the bed, raw fear pumping through her. It wouldn’t help. She’d seen it now. The rest of her mind was numb.

She stayed there for several minutes, not moving and surrendering entirely to her racing heart beat, struggling to breathe as the sobs choked her, crouched in the corner. After a while she found that she was starting to calm down, but a thick feeling of nausea was replacing the blind panic. She fought it gamely as her mind raced.

What the hell was that?

A4386A tried to think. She’d been asleep. In bed, and everything, and then she’d seen all that stuff in her mind. Had she been dreaming? Inge had told her it might happen. She’d been hoping it wasn’t true. But… he’d also said it wasn’t real. It couldn’t hurt her again. She would wake up.

And she had. She was awake now, so that was true. And it hadn’t been real, that was true too. A damned shame the part about it not hurting her again wasn’t, really.

She heard the door-lock beeping as someone tried to get in. Apparently they were rushing, since it kept sounding the ‘error’ tone. A4386A wondered emotionlessly if she should be worried, and found that she felt utterly drained. She was sick to the stomach still, and sweating and shaking, but it seemed that now she’d calmed down, her mind simply couldn’t form any emotional response. She watched as the door finally slid open.

It was Baroth, his enormous shoulders almost hiding Inge’s taller, slimmer frame from view. He all but ran into the room, his eyes staring around until he saw her sitting hunched in the corner, the remains of the bed sheets in front of her. Relief filled his eyes as he noted that she wasn’t screaming or dead, and he hurried forwards.

Inge closed the door, and Baroth crouched swiftly in front of her, placing his bear-like hands on her shoulders. She flinched, but controlled herself, feeling at once ashamed of the response. He looked worried.

“Worker?” Baroth asked, his voice tight. “Are you okay?”

She stared at him numbly, trying to formulate an answer.

“Arla,” she said at last. “My name is Arla.”