Chapter 16: Give Up - A Dream of Waking Life

Matt was ejected into the dark cell as if from a great height. Finding himself back in the video game dream was like ascending and escaping hell only to turn around and find himself back on the lowest, most sordid level.

He tensed his muscles and clenched his teeth and bellowed with anguish at the top of his lungs.

“Let me out!” he cried, his voice cracking.

Let me out! he screamed just as forcefully within himself.

Just a dream, the old man lamented.

I know! Matt pleaded inwardly.

“I know!” he shouted out loud. “So why won’t it fucking end?”

“Shut up,” Igwe rumbled simply. The others just stared at him as they stretched and flexed their rippling, naked muscles. Mu took a few steps toward him, then squatted, indifferently displaying herself to Matt. He couldn’t help wanting her, even in that moment of total defeat.

He lowered his head to look away, but then it was May who filled his mind in turn.

Please, he pleaded with his mind. She’s just a dream. She isn’t real. Please just...just accept that she’s a dream. I need to wake up. I need…

To die, the old man told him sullenly. And ultimately so do I.

Matt nodded in complete defeat.

“Are you okay, Loki?” Mu asked, oblivious to the fully shattered mind before her.

“I give up,” he told her, unable to even look at her for fear of losing himself in her entrancing, impossible beauty and perfect likeness to May.

“What?” she checked.

I can’t do this, Matt told himself, reeling in agony from the thorough understanding that dying here would just lead to a confused old man stuck in a dream within an endless series of dreams of waking life.

That term...waking life. It’s meaningless. There is no waking life. Not for me. There’s just these fucking nightmares.

He raised his head as the alarm sounded and the first of the lights on the door was illuminated. Mu smiled at him, her red lips like cherry fields in the spring against the ebony darkness of the cell.

“I can’t do this anymore, May,” he told Mu, wishing he was still in May’s apartment.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done the DMT, Matt considered, but he knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Even without the DMT, I’d still be lost in this endless maze. The DMT showed me something. He thought back to the dream-like experience. May said she left, and the DMT showed that I’m alone here. So, the May I was just with...is just a dream character. Does that mean there was a time when the real May was with me in these endless dreams...or whatever the fuck this all is relative to the real world?

He winced, realizing the world he was certain was the real world, May’s world, had to be just a dream.

But I have to die – really die – to know for sure, Matt thought, and a deep dread filled his inner being.

You might be stuck in a hospital in that world now, the old man warned, like me. Dr. Heron said that’s where he was bringing you.

Matt nodded in agreement with the old man. I’ll find a way, he told him. Or are you scared that you might just be a dream too? If I die in May’s world...you might die too.

No, the old man interjected with an anguished sigh. I don’t think so. But you’re right that there’s only one way to find out for sure. And I’ll have to find a way to kill myself as well.

Matt felt his own trepidation filling the old man’s tone. Then he remembered waking as the old man the last time and realizing that this old man talking to him in his head wasn’t the same old man.

That’s right, Matt remembered. When I woke up as the old man, I knew right away that you, this voice, aren’t me. You...are you just part of the dream? Like a…like dream character in my head? Matt considered.

The old man shrugged. Maybe. You’re right that when you woke as the old man, you had no recollection of talking to yourself or saying anything that I’ve said to you. So...maybe I am just a dream. Or maybe you’re the dream. Right?

Matt nodded, hating that he was in full agreement with this voice in his head.

Mu shrugged in sheepish defeat at Matt’s refusal to answer her. She began chanting her calming words just as the second alarm sounded.

No! Matt rebelled at her tranquilizing chant. I can’t do this anymore! I’m done! I give up!

“No!” he screamed at her, anger and terror mixing violently inside him as he visualized himself far above the cell and away from these people. Mu instantly stopped chanting and fell back in surprise as the others went wide-eyed. In the next moment, Matt found himself suspended a mile above the cell.

He felt a sudden rush of vertigo and was filled with the fear of falling and splattering against the steel ground. But he didn’t fall, and the fear coursing through him reminded him of the Reaper, then of Dr. Heron.

Just a dream, Matt demanded himself to accept, and the feeling of vertigo began to wane. He breathed deeply to calm himself, and then surveyed the field below. Even so high up, he could see and hear the mayhem that the Reaper was dispensing.

He remembered that the Reaper was more like a suited creature. I want to know what this creature looks like beneath that black material, Matt resolved. And then you’re up, Matt told the old man. You go first. And if we both don’t disappear when you kill yourself and we wake up in my world, then it’s my turn to kill myself, hospital be damned.

The old man nodded in stoic agreement.

Images of May running to Matt and holding his lifeless hand as he lie on her couch filled Matt’s mind.

No, that’s just a dream, Matt knew, though he wished desperately that it weren’t true. That’s just a dream. And so is this.

The old man nodded, and Matt lifted his arm, beckoning the Reaper into the air. He watched as the giant creature rocketed upward then came to an abrupt halt directly in front of him.

Matt spread his hand, forcing the creature to splay its snaking limbs like a specimen beneath glass. With an easy wave, the material wrapped around the creature's head was stripped away, and Matt almost shrieked at what he saw.

Bone-white skin stretched over a gnarled, elongated skull that tapered to a human-like face full of hellish anguish. Wide, glossy eyes pleaded helplessly with Matt as lips repeated something frantically.

Dr. Heron, Matt gawked. He read the sad, twisted creature’s lips. “I’m sorry, Matthew,” the Reaper repeated over and over. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I’m sorry, Matthew.”

What the fuck, Matt demanded as the warped, misshapen Dr. Heron pleaded for forgiveness.

Matt shook his head.

It’s all a fucking nightmare, he concluded. And I need to wake up. I need to...die...in every world.

He gulped the fear of true death down into the pits of his being, then took one last look at the miserable creature before waving his hand, directing both himself and the Reaper to plummet.

I’m sorry, Matthew, the Reaper chanted as they fell with rapidly increasing velocity.

Matt gritted his teeth, mentally preparing himself for the painful collision.

Get ready, old man, he thought. Get ready to die.

The old man didn’t respond, but Matt knew he could hear him.

Shouts of battle resounded below. Matt watched as the Reaper stretched its bladed limbs, reaching for him or anyone it could, and then they both splattered against the ground.