Error 404

Chapter Three

Slowly, I felt myself coming to awareness. I kept my eyes shut, reveling in the inky blackness that surrounded me. That was such a weird dream.

I lay in bed, pondering it. First, it started with the wind. Then the text messages. Next I was falling for what felt like hours, staring at an error sign. Even King made it into my dream, and I had not thought about him for the past month. But, like an annoying fly, he always returned. I wished that I could squish him like one.

But who were Dark and Chosen? Had I seen them before to make me dream about them? It seemed unlikely. Then again, so was my telling King my age. The question would have been too kind for him to even think about.

Quietly, though, the dream started to recede and I soon had trouble picturing the events. Instead, I thought about the paperwork on my desk and how I would spend my day once I finished them. Probably just hook myself up on more work. But overworking might have been the problem that led me to this dream in the first place. Did I really want a repeat of that? Maybe this time with plants that mocked me and tried to swim in the pool?

Yawning, I finally opened my eyes. The house looked . . . off for some reason. More squarish. I shook my head and got up, before shuffling into the kitchen for some coffee. Rubbing my eyes, I reached out to turn the coffee machine on, but my hand fell through open air. It stopped my yawn immediately and I gawked at the empty space where my appliance should have been. Had the wind found an open window and carried it off while I had been asleep? I knew I sounded insane, but at the rate my life was going, it seemed like a possibility.

But, no, all that had been a dream! It had to have been! I looked out through the sliding door, hoping against all hope that I was not going crazy. The deep, rich darkness stared right back at me.

It all came back in a rush. I moaned and held my head, sinking onto the counter. The error sign . . . I bolted to the front and reached for the door handle. The smooth wood brushed my fingers, ready to open the door, but instead I face planted into the door.

"Arrgh! I forgot that Minecraft does not have door handles," I griped, holding my nose. I reached out again and slid my fingers into a crevasse on the door before pulling it back. Obviously, it did not open with a push.

The chill of the outside world greedily rushed into the house, seizing up my muscles. Taking a few deep breaths, I bounced on my heels and shook myself, rubbing my arms for friction. If it was light out, I probably would have been able to see my own breath—

Everything suddenly turned white.

"Agh!" I raised my arms and took a few steps back, blinking at the sudden brightness. The edge of the house forcefully stopped me and I rubbed my eyes, trying to get used to the light. After a few seconds I could manage a squint.

Looking around was like trying to stare into the sun. I felt like it was trying to blind me. Was everything out to get me? What would come next? Books that are trying to eat me? I cannot wait.

Hissing against the brilliance—both the bright kind and the intellect one for whoever made this place—I tried to make out the Error 404 sign. It still stood starkly out, except now in black, and continued to pulse like nothing had changed at all. The confetti it threw out winked in and out of existence. It looked peaceful, like it knew what it was doing up there, unlike how I felt at the moment. I knew it must be miles up there, way too high for me to reach it, but I still stretched my arm toward it. If I could just touch it . . .

The memory of one of the blue sparkles touching me made me yank my hand back. If something like that bites, then surely the object it came out of would be a million times worse.