Fate of the Dreamers

Chapter Three - Corruption

"Secure the perimeter. I'm going in," Pen whispered into the hidden microphone on his clipboard. He opened the car door and walked up to the house. This is very chic. Short hedges lined the walkway to an elevated patio, small yellow flowers dotting the deep green of the leaves.

The house was exceptionally large, but that was a given due to its location. Through the scent of the flowers, Pen could smell the salt of the sea. "I've always loved the Gold Coast." He walked up the stairs to an oversized front door, took a breath, and knocked. He gripped his clipboard a bit tighter.

He never really knew who could be on the other side.

Muted footsteps reached Pen's ears. Someone was coming, and they sounded rushed. The ornate doorknob twisted as the door opened, a lady wearing a dark suit and high heels standing in the opening.

"Hello. Hi. You must be the shrink." With one hand she gestured for Pen to come in, while the other fiddled with what Pen assumed was an earring in her ear. "I'm his mother. He's just up the stairs in his room." She rolled her eyes. "He's probably still asleep. Silly boy," She muttered before rushing down a hallway, leaving Pen to gaze, alone, at the magnificent interior. A decorated glass chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and family photos filled the walls.

Hm. Pen hesitated. I've never been here before, Mrs DeLaney. How am I meant to know which room is his? He took a glance up the wooden staircase on his left before checking down the hallway Mrs DeLaney had so quickly walked through.

Pen jumped as she reappeared holding a large purse in the crook of her arm. He almost jumped again as she flung her arm in the staircase's direction. "What are you still doing? He's up there, second room on your left." She walked out the front door. "I've got to go to work. I'll have the money to you soon enough." And with that, she slammed the door.

"Well then," Pen said, rubbing his head. He studied the summary of his client he'd written on the clipboard. "Let's hope this'll be easy enough."

His footsteps echoed as he walked up the stairs. He cringed as he saw the number of photos put on the walls upstairs. Countless studio shots of babies filled his vision. Too many. He lowered his eyes and hurried along the hallway to the door Mrs DeLaney had told him was the entrance to her son's room.

He reached inside his pocket and grabbed his quill. I can do this. His eyes stung, a sign that he was close to the dreamer. Let's also hope he doesn't think I'm crying if he wakes up.

As quietly as he could, Pen opened the door, only to be met with what he guessed was the delightful stench of body odour. On the bed lay Olly, the dreamer Pen had been sensing for the past month. Pen took in the decorations (if they could be called that) of the teenage boy's room. Despite a poster of space hanging above the head of his bed, and a smaller poster of a band called Levitating Tuna taped to his closet door, the main decorations consisted of dead creatures hanging from the ceiling. Maybe the smell was more than simply body odour...and maybe this client had some quirky interests.

Plenty of books sat on shelves, but more seemed to have been thrown across the carpet and his cluttered desk.

Hm. How long has he been asleep? Pen scribbled some notes on the paper attached to his clipboard. They were just a cover-up, though, to leave for the parents. No reason for them to know the real issue behind Olly's behaviour, nor Pen's solution. Squinting through the water building up in his eyes, he moved closer to the bed. He knelt beside it before closing his eyes and inhaling through his nose despite the smell. Reaching out, he gently placed his hand on Olly's head.

The bedroom melted away and Pen floated above a soft-pink field. The sky was a shade of turquoise, and in the distance, piles of novels and magazines created illusions of rocky mountains. Olly sat under a lone tree, holding a book so close to his face he was practically inhaling it.

Pen landed right next to him. "What are you reading there, Olly?"

"Out of the Silent Planet, by C.S. Lewis," he replied, turning a page instead of his gaze in acknowledgement. "Who are you meant to be?" He flicked his head to get his blonde hair away from his eyes.

Pen sat down in a cross-legged position. "I'm Doctor Jamin. Your mother called me in." He leaned against the tree. "Do you like the book so far, Olly?"

He shrugged. "It's okay, I guess..."

"If you don't enjoy it, why are you still reading it?"

Olly lowered the book with a huff. "This is the only place where I can read in peace, Doctor Jamin." He shot Pen an icy stare before returning his eyes to the pages. "It would be nice of you to leave."

Pen smirked and looked out towards the mountains of books. "I'm guessing the outside world is truly the silent planet for you, hey? Not good enough for you? Full of evil whispers and corruption? That's why you've been in here, to get away from it all."

Olly lowered the book again.

"I suppose you would like to be Dr Ransom from your book, in a way. You dream of having a purpose like he had. You dream of living in awe at everything you see, even though you may be so afraid you can hardly comprehend it at first." Pen leaned over to speak in Olly's ear. "Is that correct?"

"What are you getting at, Doctor?" Olly shifted his body to look at Pen directly. "Have my parents suddenly decided they're going to spend more time with me? You want me to wake up and live in a place I don't like?"

"Just because your parents are busy doesn't mean you can't see wonders. I want you to believe life..." Pen trailed off before he finished his sentence. Something black had appeared a long distance behind Olly, and it was getting closer, or maybe bigger.

"Olly?" Pen looked down at the boy. His eyes had become as wide as saucers and his shoulders shook fervently. "What is this?" The black object pulsed as it grew, the fields and rugged mountains appearing to swirl towards it. Pen's head began to throb. A wind slowly but surely picked up, as if trying to push Pen and Olly towards the hole.

"Wake up," Pen said firmly, but the boy didn't respond. "Wake up, Olly!"

His eyes flicked to Pen's, once again filled with something cold. "What have you brought here, Doctor?" Olly stood up, leaning over Pen. "You've ruined my sanctuary!"

Another glance at the black hole was all the motivation Pen needed to knock Olly down. The two fell through the pink ground and woke up with a jolt, back in Olly's bedroom.

Pen gingerly looked up at Olly. Any second now, the boy would clutch his head in anguish and bash his way through the house.

Pen snatched the clipboard from the bedside table. "Dreamcatcher, be ready. Something was in the client's dream." He put a hand on his head as the consequences of what happened dawned on him. "When—"

Olly's screaming was the last thing Pen heard before he was shoved with an unimaginable force into the floor.