The Horizon.
A metaphysical stratum of existence that overlaps physical reality but is not governed by its laws.
A separate dimension accessed unconsciously by mortals during sleep.
Time does not flow linearly within The Horizon.
Past and present coexist.
Distance is not determined by space, but by intent.
Governed by a singular cosmic force.
Dream.
Dream did not merely claim The Horizon.
He crafted it.
Dreams, named after their source.
Authored by Dream itself.
Every ordinary dream, every symbol, every recurring archetype originates from his design.
Nightmares
Constructed entities. Dream-beings shaped to embody fear.
Crafted with purpose.
To confront hidden anxieties.
To force suppressed truths to the surface.
To reflect guilt, trauma, unresolved memory.
To provoke growth through discomfort.
Nightmares possess awareness.
They think. They adapt.
Some, act beyond their intended limits.
Nightmares are meant to exist only within the sleeping mind.
Not permitted to cross into waking consciousness.
To drag a mortal fully into The Horizon while awake is a violation of Dream’s law.
Nightmares feed on emotional output.
Fear.
The more psychologically complex, imaginative or spiritually unique a mortal is, the richer their emotional resonance becomes.
The Horizon sometimes replays some mortals favourite memories in their dreams.
To certain nightmares, such mortals are rare delicacies.
Dejavus.
Nightmares that get lost in their hunger.
They anchor themselves to a mortal’s most treasured or defining memory-dream and corrupt it from within.
They do not simply feed on fear.
They feed on essence.
Trapping the mortal in the dream.
Forever.
The more unique the dreamer…
The more dangerous the hunt becomes.
Record Seventeen - Cairon
A young girl was running through the woods.
It was night. The sky above was almost completely hidden by thick branches and heavy leaves. Only small pieces of moonlight managed to slip through, breaking against the forest floor in uneven patches. The ground was damp.
She was barefoot.
Twigs snapped under her feet as she ran and sharp stones scraped against her skin but, she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.
She was wearing pajamas. A soft, pale pink set with tiny white stars printed all over it. The top had short sleeves and small buttons down the front. The shorts were loose and slightly too big for her, bouncing as she ran. The material was thin and meant for sleep, not for sprinting through dirt and roots.
Her hair was messy, flying behind her with every step. Her chest hurt. Her legs felt weak. But she kept moving. Panicked.
She kept looking back.
Every few seconds, her head snapped over her shoulder.
Her eyes were wide and glossy with fear.
There was something behind her.
She could not see it clearly. But she could hear it.
Branches snapping. Heavy movement.
A sharp metallic screech.
She turned forward again and ran faster.
The forest around her suddenly shifted. The trees around her moved. The trunks bent inward. Branches twisted. One thick branch suddenly wrapped around her waist.
It raised her.
The tree trunk in front of her split open down the middle like a door cracking apart.
The branch tightened around her and flung her directly into the opening.
She flew forward through the darkness and then...
She fell into something thick.
Her body sank into a dense, warm liquid that closed over her head in seconds. It was sticky. Heavy. Sweet.
Syrup.
It filled her ears first. Then her hair. Then her nose. She opened her mouth to scream and it rushed in.
It was not like water. It did not let her move. When she tried to kick, her legs barely shifted. When she tried to lift her arms, the syrup resisted like glue pulling her back down.
She could not float. She could not swim. Her body sank slowly, deeper and deeper.
She tried to push upward.
Her hands moved an inch. Maybe less.
Her chest tightened.
She held her breath.
The syrup pressed against her face, forcing itself against her eyelids and lips. The smell was overwhelming. It burned her nose.
Her lungs began to shake.
She kicked harder. Her movements became frantic. The syrup swallowed her effort and dragged her down another few feet.
Her chest convulsed.
She tried not to breathe.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
She lasted three seconds longer.
Then her body forced a breath in.
The syrup flooded into her mouth. It forced itself down her throat. She choked. She tried to cough but there was no air to push it out. The liquid filled her lungs slowly, thick and heavy. Every attempt to move only pulled her deeper.
Her vision blurred.
Something moved beneath her.
At first it was only a distortion in the syrup. A darker shape cutting through the thick liquid. But unlike her. It was not slow.
It moved freely. Fast.
It darted sideways. Then upward. Then vanished behind her.
The shape reappeared in front of her.
Closer now.
She could not see details. Only motion. Something long and curved slicing through the syrup like it was water. It circled her once. Twice. Then it shot straight toward her.
Her body gave one last sharp, desperate jerk.
Then…
Darkness swallowed her.
…
She gasped.
Air slammed into her lungs violently.
She was staring down at something wet and green inches from her face.
Her hands were planted against the ground. Her knees were pressed into something cold and soft.
She was on all fours.
Her body heaved again. A thick stream poured out of her mouth. Dark amber syrup spilled onto the slimy surface beneath her. It came out in heavy sticky ropes. It stretched as it fell, clinging to her lips before snapping and dropping.
She coughed hard.
More came up.
Her stomach contracted painfully. Her ribs tightened. Her throat burned as she retched again. Syrup mixed with stringy saliva. Splattered between her hands.
She gagged again.
Finally, the violent heaving slowed. She stayed there on all fours, breathing hard. Her shoulders rose and fell quickly.
The syrup she had coughed up did not stay separate. It began to sink into the slime slowly, absorbed into it.
The sweetness was gone.
The air smelled rotten.
She lifted her head slowly.
Massive floating objects of different shapes sagged under heavy layers of mucus like substance. Strings of it hung between the shapes.
The screeching sound echoed again.
Closer.
She pushed herself up immediately, slowly, breathing harder.
She slipped.
Suddenly the ground in front of her bulged upward.
It swelled like something inflating from underneath.
The bulge split open.
A massive slime-like creature rose up from the ground directly in front of her. It had no shape at first, just a towering mass of thick, dripping green substance. Slowly, a mouth formed in the center of it. A wide opening lined with uneven, jagged shapes that looked half-solid and half-liquid.
A thick tendril shot out from it and wrapped tightly around her waist. It lifted her effortlessly and threw her forward. Right into its mouth.
The inside was cold and suffocating. Slime pressed against her from all sides. She dropped downward as if falling through a tunnel made of liquid.
Then…
She fell out.
Into open air.
She was high above. Below her stretched a landscape of thin, dry trees covered in sharp thorns. Their branches reached upward like needles waiting to catch her.
She barely had time to react.
She hit the first layer of branches hard.
Thorns pierced through her pajama sleeves and scratched across her legs. Thin red lines opened across her skin.
She bounced off one branch only to slam into another.
She tumbled downward, hitting trunk after trunk. The dry wood scraped against her arms and face. More thorns dug into her shoulders and back.
Her body twisted uncontrollably as she fell through the maze of sharp branches.
Finally, she crashed onto the hard forest floor below.
She lay there, shaking, her skin stinging everywhere. Small cuts covered her arms and legs.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then..
From somewhere, the screech echoed again.
She rose up slowly.
A low branch caught the sleeve of her pajama.
The fabric snagged hard.
Her body jerked backward.
The cloth stretched for a second, then snapped free with force.
The force flung her off balance. She spun in the air, helpless, the world turning upside down for a brief, dizzying moment.
Then she hit the ground.
Hard.
Her back struck first, knocking the air out of her lungs.
Everything went still.
Her eyes went blank and white from the impact.
She lay there, her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to catch her breath.
Then…
Something wet landed on her cheek.
Thick.
Warm.
Another drop followed, hitting her forehead
Her vision slowly focused.
A large glob of slobber fell directly onto her face, spreading over her forehead, nose and mouth.
She froze.
Above her, something was watching.
Its mouth hung open wide. Long strands of saliva dripped continuously from its teeth, falling onto her in slow, heavy drops. The smell was foul, sour and rotten.
Its face was close enough that she could see the dark space inside its mouth.
She opened her mouth and screamed.
No sound came out.
Her throat worked. But there was nothing. No sound was coming out.
The thing slowly lifted one hand.
Its fingers were long and thin, ending in massive, elongated fingernails. The nails were curved and dark, almost like blades. They moved slowly toward her face.
Closer.
Closer.
The tip of one nail hovered just inches above her skin.
Then it stopped.
Its head tilted sharply to one side. Its mouth remained open, but its attention shifted. It sniffed.
Once.
Twice.
Then without warning, it pulled its hand back.
In one quick movement, it turned away from her and ran toward the other direction. Its long limbs moved fast and unnatural, disappearing between the dry trees.
…
It moved through the trees without slowing. The dry trunks and thorns shattered when its body brushed against them.
Its body stretched unnaturally with each stride. Its spine bent to far. Its limbs extended beyond normal length and then pulled back in, like elastic snapping into place.
It tore.
The air split. Like fabric ripping.
A jagged line opened instantly in front of it, revealing something else beyond.
Each time, it reached forward with its massive claws. Grabbing the space in front of it and ripping it open like fabric .
Beyond each tear was a different reality.
It jumped through another.
Cold wind slammed into its form. It was suddenly running across a forzen field under a cracked gray sky. The ground shattered under each step.
It ripped again.
The frozen world split open and it burst into a burning desert. The sky was red. Sandstorms twisted violently around it. The scent still lingered ahead.
It tore again.
The desert peeled back like wet paper and it ran into a hallway that stretched endlessly in both directions. The walls were covered in blinking eyes that watched it pass.
It did not slow down.
Each rip led somewhere new. A forest made of glass trees. A city turned upside down. A sky with no ground beneath It.
It did this again.
And again.
And again.
Hundreds of times.
Thousand.
It did not tire.
It remained focused. Following a scent.
A specific one.
Then…
Another rip opened beside it.
Not from its claws.
A second tear split the space to its left.
A third behind it.
A fourth above.
Four other things like it forced themselves through the openings at the same time. Their mouths dripped the same thick saliva.
They had caught the scent too.
The five of them ran side by side for a brief second across a shifting landscape of broken stone and floating debris.
Then one of the new ones lunged.
The new one slammed into it, claws slicing toward its throat.
It twisted mid-run and blocked with its forearm. The claws scraped across its skin, tearing dark lines .
Another one leaped on its back, teeth snapping at its back.
The third and fourth came together. Not allied. They crashed into it from opposite sides, trying to pin it down.
Only one of them could claim the scent.
It roared, a distorted, scraping sound and threw its body sideways at full speed. All five of them tumbled across the pulsing ground.
It rose up quickly and moved first.
It drove its claws straight into the face of the one that had bit its back. Its fingers sank through. It pushed. Hard. The victim’s head split down the middle. Thick dark fluid spilled out.
Then It tore its hand free and swung the broken body into the third attacker. The impact knocked both aside.
The fourth one lunged again, jaws wide.
It met it mid air. Their mouths collided. Teeth scraped against teeth. It shoved its arm down the fourth’s throat. Deep. Then it spread its fingers. It ripped outward. The fourth’s neck burst open from the inside. The fourth fell twitching.
The first one, that had clawed into its forearm, leapt onto back. The first’s claws dug deeper this time. It did not try to shake it off. Instead, it bend forward sharply and rolled. Its full weight crushed the first beneath it. The ground beneath them split. It rose up instantly and grabbed the first’s arm and pulled, tearing the arm off cleanly. Then it drove the torn limb straight down through the back of the first’s skull.
It stood alone again.
It straightened. Lifted its head and shrieked loudly.
The scent grew stronger than ever.
It turned forward.
And ripped open another reality.
Then continued the hunt alone.
…
It tore the air one last time.
The space peeled back. It stepped through.
Now it was quiet.
It crouched low, watching from a distance.
Its body pressed close to the ground, limbs bent at sharp angles. Its mouth hung open slightly. Thick saliva dripped from its teeth and fell in slow, heavy drops. Its hollow eyes were fixed in one place.
The real world.
One of the humans was on her bed.
She was wrapped in a white towel that was tied tightly around her chest. She sat at the edge of her bed at first, then she slowly leaned back and rested her head on her pillow. Her breathing began to slow. Her fingers twitched once as her body relaxed. Her eyes fluttered, trying to stay open, but they failed.
It watched her impatiently. Its claws pressed into the surface beneath it leaving deep marks. It wanted to pull her in immediately. It wanted to break the barrier and drag her real self in .
But it did not dare.
So it waited.
The space around it shifted.
The dark emptiness of the forming reality rippled.
It leaned forward, shaking slightly with excitement. It loved this part.
Water suddenly poured from above. A lake spread outward across the ground in seconds, covering everything with shimmering water.
Wooden planks began forming rapidly over it. A bridge built itself piece by piece, boards snapping into place as if assembled by invisible hands.
A memory was being reconstructed.
The girl’s form grew clearer.
Its saliva began flowing harder, spilling down its chin in thick streams.
Carved memories were always richer.
Sweeter.
Another form began materializing beside the girl.
It did not hesitate. It rushed forward in a blur. It passed through the forming space and slipped directly into the second forms body.
…
Mina had fallen asleep not long after Lia left.
She was still wrapped in her towel when she lay down.
Her mind began to drift. The darkness behind her closed eyes slowly filled with light.
The dream began.
It was a memory.
Her younger self. A younger Lia.
They had gone to the lake after school. The world had felt quiet and distant. She could feel it again. The warmth. The nervousness. The way her heart had been racing.
The tension in her chest when she leaned in, not sure if she was crossing a line.
That was the moment Mina could never forget.
In the real world, Mina’s sleeping face softened. A faint smile appeared on her lips. Her eyebrows relaxed. Her fingers curled slightly into the towel.
In the dream, she leaned closer to Lia again.
…
“Mina…?
Lia’s voice was softer now.
Mina stared into Lia’s smoky silver eyes. She could see her own reflection inside them. Small. Nervous. Hopeful.
“I..”
…
Inside the dream version of Lia, it crouched sideways, folded into the space of her body, its limbs pressed tightly against the inside of her form.
The scent had been growing stronger and stronger the longer the memory played.
Rich. Thick. Full of emotion.
It could not wait anymore.
The skin along dream Lia’s neck split open in a sharp line.
A dark crack spread down her collarbone.
Then it sliced its way out.
The head of dream Lia separated cleanly, falling sideways and hit the wooden planks with a thud.
The body also fell sideways and fell on the bridge. Then it twitched violently.
The back of the body tore open from the inside. Its arm forced its way out first. The opening widened with a wet tearing sound.
It forced its other arm out. It gripped the edges and pulled.
Its shoulders emerged slowly, stretching the split further. The body beneath it convulsed. Finally, its head pushed free last, sliding out with a slow, deliberate motion.
It stood upright.
It tossed dream Lia’s body aside. The corpse hit the planks and lay still, wrong and empty before it slowly dematerialized.
It tilted its head as it studied her.
This one was different.
Not many humans replayed exact memories inside dreams.
It smiled widely.
The wooden planks beneath its feet twisted suddenly. The wood warped and stretched upward, bending unnaturally. The shape sharpened, lengthened, hardened into a long machete like blade. The blade floated into its hands.
It stepped forward slowly. Dragging the blade along the planks.
The girl fell backward onto her hands and heels. She tried to push herself away, her palms sliding against the wood. She moved a few inches then stopped.
Her arms trembled. Her mouth opened wide as she tried to scream. Tears spilled down her face silently.
It stepped closer, its shadow falling over her.
It loomed above her. Then it bent down. And shrieked directly into her face.
A loud piercing sound….
Then…
Something dragged her out from the dream.
Something yanked it away hard.
The bridge flickered. The lake distorted. The dream began to tear apart.
It twisted in the empty air as the space collapsed around it. It refocused midair and landed awkwardly in another space, stumbling slightly before catching its balance.
Water spread endlessly around it.
Dark blue. Heavy
It was standing on the surface of the ocean.
In front of it, a man with white hair floated just above the ocean’s surface. He wore a long dark brown coat that moved gently. His expression was calm. Controlled.
Beside him floated another presence.
Its master.
…
“You should control your pets, Dream.”
Cairon’s voice was calm. He hovered above the endless water, his coat unmoving, his white hair faintly stirred by forces that were not wind. One hand rested loosely at his side. The other had already let go of the thing he had dragged out of Mina’s dream.
Beside him, Dream floated with an easy posture, as if nothing that had just happened was urgent at all.
“Hehe… they get naughty sometimes,” Dream replied, amused rather than apologetic.
He looked nothing like a monster master should have. His dark hair fell in loose natural waves around his face, slightly messy. His features were sharp but relaxed, the kind that looked good without trying. His eyes were the strangest part. Deep, cloudy and endless, like fog rolling over an ocean at night.
Dream tilted his head slightly, studying the creature below them like a misbehaving animal rather than a threat.
Cairon had torn it cleanly out of Mina’s dream and thrown it into another one. An octopus’s dream.
The thing stood awkwardly atop the waters’s surface, its body trembling now, its hunger muted by confusion.
It bowed.
Not deeply. Not respectfully. But enough to show it understood hierarchy.
Cairon looked down at it without expression.
Dream chuckled softly.
