Let Me In

Part 7

Steven picked apart his armchair through narrowed eyes.

He'd tried screaming at first, even though Jake told him it was pointless. Marc was in control of the body right now, and the other alter had made it clear he had no more interest in communicating. Despite this knowledge, the brit still found himself running around the seemingly endless abyss for anything that could possibly help them get out of the complex.

"So, are we dreaming?" Steven had asked shortly after Jake originally lead him inside. The explanation wouldn't have been too out of the world of possibility. Nothing felt quite real. Most of the space seemed to be pitch black, with the only exception being a foggy circle lit up seemingly through no actual physical means. The furniture that did exist was random, with only a single king-sized bed and a bookshelf to fill the space. The pieces themselves were rather cozy, the sort of stuff he'd put inside his own dream home. When in the midst of this eerie limbo, however, he naturally found himself drifting closer to the other alter.

"Basically." Jake hummed, plopping himself down on the bed. "Instead of just going to sleep and showing up again whenever there's a trigger, you can instead slip back here. You have no extra control or anything, so its pretty pointless, but think of it as your own man cave."

His "man cave" did prove to be rather pointless. No matter how hard he tried to manipulate the things around him, nothing spawned of any practical use. No way of contacting Marc to see if he was alright, no way of showing support, he wasn't even sure how he was supposed to see the body. It made the way Jake had easily slipped in and maneuvered everything all the more frustrating.

"If this is my dream-land, why are you here?"

"Because you're letting me. You can kick me out at anytime fella. What, don't like having this mug around?"

"No, I just- I don't see what this has to do with some crazy cult leader. Or Marc. Does Marc have one?"

"Yeah, Steve, we all have one."

"It's- its Steven."

It'd taken what had felt like hours for Steven to finally calm down and accept that he was completely hopeless for the time being. Whether it was because their brain didn't want him in control, or because Marc simply didn't want him out to see the gruesome escape, there was no telling. Even though he knew logically there was no way Marc had been killed, given they were still existing after all, the complete radio silence didn't ease the suffocating nerves gripping his insides. As a result, Steven soon found himself turning back towards the blank canvas of a room around him.

"So, can I like- fly?"
"What? No, why the hell would you be able to fly?"

"Because I'm dreaming?"

"No, you're not- I mean, you kind of are, but not like that dumbass. Think of this as your own room. The place where you process all the shit going on, and easily picture it for yourself. You can use it to think through your thoughts, or just fuck around to keep yourself entertained, all up to you."
"Why does the room already have furniture in it then, if I've never used it before?"

Jake turned his head away, "Well, let's just say I've had a lot of free time over the years."

Steven never considered himself to be the most creative type. As much as he loved literature, a knack for artistic ability was one neither he, nor Marc possessed. Because of this, the first thought that had come to mind when it came to how to personalize the room, was what kind of chairs he should add. There was already a bookshelf after all, it would only be right if he had somewhere to sit and read.