AM Darkness Presents
The Dream by Gabriel Maestas
Good morning, my lovelies! What a day it shall be. May I tell you, one of my favorite beings in the whole world is known as ‘The Guardian.’ And she is quite a lady. Imagine someone so powerful they can control time, space, reality, and, of course, her child’s bedtime. Ha, that’s humorous when you think of what her child is capable of.
Speaking of things happening, The Guardian spends much of her time manipulating dreams of lesser beings. What does that look like? Well, the other morning while wandering through the castle, I found a story from a twisted reality and can’t wait to share it with you! Hold on, this one has a life all its own…
“I don’t like what I see most of the time,” The Guardian said while in her hostile domain. “Most of what I hear bores me. I’d much prefer to bring destruction than endure any more. My idea of a good time is simple and equitable. I invite chaos to refresh the world.”
She slowly walked forward, her gaze piercing, “I’ve found someone who’s brought something on himself, a scenario that may quickly become a nightmare. Maybe something worse. Douglas has provoked a new reality, and I won’t let him escape. Maybe this will bring a smile to my face.”
The guardian rotated her hourglass and watched the sand begin falling. “I can’t wait to see what time has in store for him…”
April 1, 1955
Douglas was driving home from work in his new sedan. It had been a wonderful day. The boss informed him that sales figures were some of the best in the company, and he’d earned a modest raise.
“You could sell ice to Eskimos,” his boss boasted.
Douglas leaned forward, reaching for the AM radio and turning the dial. He stumbled upon a popular song by Rosemary Clooney, “Swell!” he said, increasing the volume. “What a hip song,” Douglas sang along.
“Hey there
You with the stars in your eyes
Love never made a fool of you
You used to be too wise.”
He grinned, remembering his date with Janine the night before. They’d shared a burger and a shake at the hop. What a fantastic time it had been.
“But you know,” he said aloud, “The time with Gloria wasn’t terrible either. Too bad she was no fun.”
They were both good looking gals, but Douglas was more excited about having fun. Gloria was pretty, but there was something about her.
“Better forget him
Him with his nose in the air
He has you dancin’ on a string.”
Douglas turned the big steering wheel as the sedan hugged the curved hillside road.
“There’s nothing could rain on my parade.”
He missed the rear-view mirror as fate sped behind him in a big maroon four-door.
April 2, 2026 - 5:13 PM Pasadena, California
Douglas opened his eyes, looking up at the high ceiling, which featured a massive lighting system hanging from aluminum rafters. It reminded him of an airplane hangar at the World’s Fair. Douglas lowered his head to view everything, his eyes growing wide.
A crowd clamored in the aisle, filling their shopping carts with bulging boxes, food pictured on the side. Kids ran wildly, holding flat, rectangular objects that emitted music or odd noises he didn’t recognize. Everyone had very odd expressions, as if their minds were noisy. That was about the only way to describe it.
“Nice suit, buddy,” an older gentleman with thinning white hair and a blue sweater swatted Douglas’s elbow, “You think you might wanna get out of the way?”
Douglas looked down at his single-breasted, navy blue coat with matching slacks. Well, why isn’t everyone else mildly presentable? he asked himself. After all, we’re in a public place.
His brown fedora hat fell from his head, tumbling before him as he tried to catch it. The hat hit the tile floor. He bent forward and grabbed it as one of the outrageously sized shopping carts was slammed into his backside.
Douglas fell forward and hit the ground. He looked back, noticing the middle-aged woman glaring at him, holding the cart handles with a white knuckle grip.
“Move your ass! Jerk!” she yelled, “Who does that?”
He scrambled to get up and move out of the way, running into another random person as they turned the corner.
This is a supermarket! An absurd, outrageously constructed, and over-the-top supermarket filled with shoppers!
Douglas moved aside, hugging a food shelf. He couldn’t make sense of the odd rectangular objects everyone held within their clawed hand. It was flat and had a screen they stared at.
Those are some kind of device! I…I need food.
A sudden, powerful hunger swept over him like he’d just completed an exhausting journey and needed energy. He looked at the random items on the shelves, failing to recognize anything.
Jesus.
He peered around the end of the aisle, looking at the highway of customers charging through the main walkway. Douglas saw an opening and took it, moving quickly to the next aisle. A relieved smile came to his worried face.
“Bread!”
Douglas searched the countless options. The most recognizable was a loaf of white bread labeled ‘Iron Kids.’ It reminded him of the Donald Duck packaged bread he bought for his nephew. He grabbed one and looked behind him, noticing a large shelf with jars of jam and canisters of peanut butter.
He grabbed some of those also.
Now, I saw many shoppers headed toward the front of the building, where they’re clearly making their purchases.
Douglas followed the crowd, realizing food was only a fraction of the store’s stock. There was an endless assortment of goods as far as he could see.
“A department store?” he asked himself, “This is the maddest creation I’ve ever see.”
“Move, jack-wagon!”
Douglas turned sharply, glaring at a teenage boy with an agitated gaze. The child wore unmatched clothing, and his hair was shabby, ‘painted’ an odd purple color.
“Young man, you don’t speak to elders like that!” Douglas snapped.
“Eat shit,” the boy hurried around him, “The 40s called, and they want their hat back!”
Douglas groaned, realizing people lacked many things wherever and whenever he was—manners, for one.
Now, shoppers are stopping in front of those odd little square stations where they swipe items over glass. That electronic chime must count items or something.
They placed their items in flimsy plastic bags on the side of the station.
“They negotiate the purchase of their own items.” he was floored, “Who the hell works in this massive place? How does it operate?”
Something struck him.
“How am I going to pay?” Douglas juggled his items into one arm and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a single ten dollar bill. It looked much sillier than the bills he’d used the day before.
“At least I have several days’ worth of wages in my pocket,” he reassured himself. “I have to figure out what’s going on.”
He found the end of the line feeding the check-out and stepped into it. It only took a few moments for the line to move, and Douglas hurried to an open machine. He began unsuccessfully swiping his items until he finally heard a chime. He repeated for every item.
There was a total indicator at the bottom of the screen.
$14.12
“My God in heaven…”
April 2, 1955 - 8:13 AM A hospital in Pasadena, California
Douglas opened his eyes, blinking as the sunlight bled through blinds covering a large window in the center of the wall. He looked up at the IV fluid bottle as it dripped into the line feeding his arm.
Oh, thank goodness. It was a dream!
He looked at the railing on his bed and raised his left arm to move it down. His arm didn’t move. It just lay there. He attempted to lift his head but there was no response.
A nurse entered the room and smiled at him. She was wearing a white dress, with numerous items in her pockets and a stethoscope around her neck.
“Oh good, you’re awake!” she placed her hands on her hips, “I bet you’re starving.”
Douglas wanted to speak, but his lips wouldn’t move. He was unresponsive…except for his eyes.
This can’t be.
“Well, let’s get you started on some gelatin. No one complains about that, now do they?”
The nurse wheeled a tray holder to his bedside and stopped. She stood next to him, reaching for a small bowl containing a large cube of red gelatin. He looked at it unimpressed and looked back at her, eyes drooping.
“Oh, come on now,” the nurse said, “Don’t make a sour puss at me!”
She picked up a spoon from the tray to scoop a small piece. She fed it to him, “There, that’s not bad at all.”
This can’t be right. It’s no injury I’ve ever heard of. Maybe a doctor will visit to relay some information that will make sense.
The nurse served him another bite, and Douglas took it, chewing with great apprehension.
April 2, 2026 - 9:11 AM
There was a faint buzzing sound, forcing Douglas’ eyes open. He looked around, blinking rapidly as a drowsy feeling slowly departed.
“Hey!” a random voice said behind him.
Douglas turned and saw someone standing near the entrance of his cubicle.
“Those calls aren’t going to answer themselves!” The man was chubby, with a thinning hairline, and something was off. He was a portly man, but his face was turning grey, almost like his features were sinking into themselves. It was subtle, but still, it was alarming.
Douglas snapped to and looked around the desk where he sat. There was a plastic-looking ‘typewriter keyboard.’ It was flat and lay before a screen similar to the ones at the supermarket. There was a wide array of boxes and blinking lights.
This chaos makes no sense to me.
Douglas could feel his chest heaving as he looked away from the overwhelming screen.
“What was wrong with the supervisor’s face?” Douglas asked himself.
“Shall we get started?”
Douglas was startled, nearly falling from his chair.
“Douglas,” It was a female voice. “Your supervisor just asked if you could get back to work.”
He looked at the desk, noticing a small plastic box that had very miniature mesh-covered ‘speakers’ inside.
“Ready to begin?” the voice was coming from that box…from the speakers.
“Yes,” Douglas replied, slowly wheeling back toward the center of his desk.
“Ok. Type ‘Begin’ and use the mouse to move the arrow and click on Module One. It’s on the right of the keyboard.”
He looked, noticing an odd, small plastic object near the keyboard.
“How did you…”
“Know where the mouse was? It’s my job to know.”
“Who are you?” Douglas wrapped his hand around the mouse and saw the little arrow on the screen begin moving. He typed ‘Begin,’ and maneuvered the arrow to the ‘Module One’ window.”
“Click on it with the left side of the mouse. My name is Mrs. Jeeves, by the way. I’m an A.I. assistant.”
Douglas hesitated, “A.I.?”
“Oh boy, I have explaining to do, don’t I?”
Several Hours Later…
Douglas hurried out of the building, looking back as he watched one of his coworkers leap from the top story. The man fell freely toward the concrete below, his clothing whipping around as he plummeted. A mechanized net extended from the side of the building and caught the man, pulling him back inside. Douglas breathed deeply and put the ‘earbuds’ in his ear, just as Mrs. Jeeves had instructed.
“What was that?” Douglas asked.
“They’re safety nets.” Mrs Jeeves replied, “In case someone wants to ‘clock out’ before their shift ends.”
Douglas hurried away from the building and walked up the street. “That man wasn’t getting away from anything! He leaped to his doom.”
“It’s the same result,” Mrs. Jeeves said, “If he leaves his job or falls to a permanent vacation, the union would tag him and take away his credits.”
“You do realize this is insanity?” Douglas saw golden arches a block away and began jogging. “At least some things remain the same. I love those cheeseburgers!”
He could almost smell the burgers.
“The cost might have increased,” Mrs. Jeeves commented, “But yes, the food itself hasn’t changed.”
He arrived at the restaurant, walked inside, and saw several large rectangular kiosks. They were in front of a counter in the back of the lobby and dining area. He saw employees cooking in the kitchen.
“I’m craving a milkshake and fries like you wouldn’t believe,” Douglas approached the kiosk. “This is like the station at the supermarket, I’m assuming. Funny, there’s an image of a person looking back at me. But.”
“Talk to her,” Mrs. Jeeves said, “And then use your card.”
“Card?”
“The small plastic slip in your pocket. Or you can tap your phone to the screen.”
“My phone?”
“Hey, asshole!”
A man was standing behind him. Douglas turned and apologized, stepping out of the way. The man just glared at him, his eyes looking like they were sinking into his skull, his skin growing more ashy. He turned and practically yelled at the kiosk.
“What’s happening to everyone?” Douglas asked.
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mrs. Jeeves said.
“But.”
“Please, Douglas, let’s just get something to eat. Your phone is in your pocket, and your wallet will wake as you touch its screen.”
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and Douglas turned around. There were three men dressed in old clothes, their skin also turning grey. They looked like they must be indigent and were visibly upset.
“Hey buddy,” one said, “It’s time to pay up.”
“What have I done?” Douglas asks.
One of them shoved him, “You’re not the only hungry one!”
The food terminal lit up, an unrealistic voice asking, “If you’re in trouble, we can alert the authorities. Wait time: two days.”
April 2, 1955 – 6:37 PM
Pasadena, California
Douglas opened his eyes and looked at the pretty woman wearing glasses and dressed in a long red skirt sitting by his bedside, feeding him gelatin. How did I wake at the EXACT place? In this daydream? In this nightmare? Wherever or WHENever this is...at work…or this DAMN HOSPITAL!
“Oh goodness!” the lady exclaimed, “You have a tear rolling down your cheek.”
She reached for a towel and wiped his cheek, blotting near his eyelid, “Wouldn’t want that delicate skin to get chapped, now would we?”
Douglas continued chewing as she looked concerned.
“Well, there’s another. Are you alright, Douglas?”
I just don’t know what the hell is going on.
The lady fed him another bite, and he continued chewing, thinking how good a burger and shake would taste. The lady had another spoonful waiting for him. She raised it to his lips.
“They told me to be careful after the accident,” the lady said, “‘Gloria, don’t go to the hospital,’ they said. ‘Just leave him be. Let him recover.’”
I know this woman from somewhere.
She fixed him another spoonful. “You know Douglas,” Gloria smiled, her glasses reflecting his image in the hospital bed, “This is kind of…nice. Having you here like this, NEEDING me. It’s sort of comforting.”
April 2, 2026 – 7:41 PM
Douglas opened his eyes and looked around the homeless shelter, confused as he sat on a rickety old cot. The place is filled with people who look like they’ve just arrived from work.
If they have jobs, how are they at a homeless shelter? And how did I get here?
“Mrs. Jeeves,” he asked, “What am I doing here? What should I do next?”
“Just a moment.”
Douglas faced forward, his eyes wide as he noticed a little girl sitting in the cot across from him. He tried not to look stunned, but the child was a worrisome sight. Like other random people, her skin was remarkably ashy, and her face was sunken in. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Goodness, she can’t be more than ten years old.
“Hello,” Douglas managed to say.
“Hey,” the little girl smiled, “I’m Sheila.”
“Douglas,” his face must’ve looked worried, “How are you this morning?”
“It’s the evening, Douglas,” the little girl chuckled, “Didn’t you work today?”
“I…I think so.”
“How do you NOT know so?” She shrugged. Douglas worried as her face stayed remarkably still, except for her lips.
“Do you have a job?” Douglas decided to ask, “Where do you work?”
“The fulfillment center,” Shiela tore open a package of candy coated chocolates and offered him some.
Douglas slowly extended his hand, grateful, “These are my absolute favorite!”
“Good!” She ate several chocolates and raised the package. “Would you like more?”
Douglas shook his head no.
“Can I ask you something?” he started. “Why is everyone sickly looking? I noticed yesterday, but now, it’s much more obvious.”
“Every time you wonder why things are like this, your clothes age. They get a little more wrinkled and a little more grey.”
“But what about people’s faces? Their skin? Their eyes? It appears they,” he stopped.
The little girl looked confused. Her head tilted to the side, and she observed several others in the shelter. They were getting more and more disheveled with each passing moment. Almost as if their life force were being drained.
The little girl began smiling again. “It’s just our clothes,” she raised her hand reassuringly, “But we’re fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Douglas’s shoulders slumped as he frowned. He closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Well, I…” he looked up and opened his eyes.
The homeless shelter slowly faded away, revealing a terrible, barren land, a wind-whipped, desolate environment, littered with concrete steps in every direction. There was a pair of very tall, metallic towers in the distance. It felt like he was outside, but the winds were eerie— a continual drone of nothingness and random whispering.
“We all make choices, Douglas.”
The voice came from a woman standing near the center of the strange place.
She was draped in a long robe, with a hood over her head as she held an hourglass and looked toward him, her expression unchanging.
“Can’t you recall?” She removed her hood, revealing a hairless, grey head that unsettled him.
It’s as if her life energy has been drained. Am I next?? Oh, this is a nightmare!
“I am nothing like what you’re thinking,” she said. “Don’t forget, our reality is the product of our choices.”
“What have we chosen?” Douglas slapped his hands on his head in distress, “I’ve not chosen anything. I was in a car accident, and now, THIS.”
Douglas suddenly remembered. I was driving home from work, I can recall clearly, but then…I was rear-ended. And I saw her. A woman I can barely remember.
“Gloria,” he said aloud.
“This was inevitable,” she looked directly at him, her bare head emitting a faint glow, “As Guardian, I have the burden of ensuring our worlds can survive.”
“But what is this? The future, or the past, or is it another place?”
The Guardian turned to him, revealing the hourglass, “This represents people’s greatest fears. The unknown, the future, and the past all moving in the same direction.”
“This is confusing!” Douglas felt tears falling down his cheeks as he turned away. His chest pounded anxiously. Douglas shook his head and turned away. He could hear something coming from the towers. It was a menacing sound, filling him with the same dread from childhood nightmares—monsters in the closet.
“I have a life,” he said, “There’s a woman there.”
“There are TWO women there,” the Guardian raised her hand, revealing her bony fingers. She rolled her last two within her fist and covered them with her thumb, “Two.”
Douglas hesitated, finally answering, “I should’ve known.”
“I have to keep the dreams in alignment, Douglas. People can never fully understand. They can’t know everything.”
He turned and stared at her, slamming his hands on his hips, “Why not?!”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t return,” the Guardian approached him slowly, her arm reaching for his shoulder, “If people knew then what you know now, everything would unravel.”
She gripped his shoulder, wrapping her icy fingers and squeezing, “You must return to work. And let the safety nets catch you.”
“But how could anyone live like this?”
The Guardian glared at him, “We must…”
April 3, 1955 – 7:32 AM
Pasadena, California
Douglas opened his eyes, immediately recognizing the familiar hospital and the kind nurse. He recalled the Guardian’s words.
“If people knew then what you know now. Everything would unravel.”
He felt his chest rise and fall as he sighed. The nurse smiled warmly, walking toward him with a bowl of gelatin and a spoon.
“You look better,” the nurse said. “You must’ve had an intense dream! My word, if only you could share. You know, I have a cousin who works for a technology company, and they are working on something called a computer. Of course, we’ve seen them in large rooms at universities and everything.”
She fed him a spoonful of gelatin.
“But my cousin told me scientists, in the future, of course, could shrink them down into something that would fit on our desk and, eventually, even in our pockets! Can you imagine that? All the computing power of one of those massive, room-filling super thinking machines, everywhere you go. They could help you with everything you needed to do. And make it so you don’t have to THINK about what you’d do next??”
Meanwhile, Gloria was approaching with a knife in her hand. She raised it over the nurse’s head.
“How great would that be??”
The Guardian watched the events unfold, looking intently at the hourglass as she smiled.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt emotional about anything,” she said, “But I like THIS.”
A menacing sound came from within the towers and filled the barren land, its terrifying sound resonating everywhere all at once. Metal being dragged, followed by a terrible clanging sound, echoed from castle to castle.
“Be patient, my child,” the Guardian turned toward the towers. “The time will come. It always does. They are nearly ready...”
I enjoyed this read. Delightfully terrifying with a hint of satire.