Oneirataxia 1: Dreamcatchers

Prologue

Greetings, one and all...!

The voice echoed around me, like a sudden gust of wind, chilling my spine. Sandali lang... nasaan ako? I blinked, trying to make sense of the scene. Flashing lights, blaring music, the smell of old curtains. Is this some kind of a theater? A big stage, a huge crowd. The audience was wild, clapping, cheering. My heart pounded harder. Something felt off. Bakit nandito ako?

The red curtains swept open, revealing a man standing under the spotlight. Donned with your typical stage performer set-up, he is wearing a black top hat, elegant coat that looks totally dark even when bright lights are pointing at it, and a grip of what appears to be a jungle knife exposed from his coat. Truly a remarkable outfit for whatever this event is for.

The applause got even louder, almost deafening. Beside him stood a tall box, the dark wood polished and gleaming under the lights. My skin prickled. Something about this wasn't right. The crowd roared again, like they were waiting for something big.

Wanna see something surprising? The performer's voice boomed, full of mockery. Something everyone has been cheering for...

The crowd screamed, loving every second of it. My gut twisted in knots. Ano'ng laman ng box na 'to? My mind raced. Treasure? Something dangerous? Every thought made me uneasy, and I knew I didn't want to find out.

Let me introduce... the performer continued, stepping toward the box. He was smiling now, a smile that looked more like a sneer. With a quick flick, he opened it wide.

...the most wanted man in the world, Pastor Cartillo!

I froze. Si Pastor Cartillo? That pastor. The one who vanished. Paano siya nandito?

How... how did you find me? Pastor Cartillo's voice cracked, his face twisted with fear. He struggled like he was tied down, his voice rising in panic. I was just asleep—

Before he could finish, a flash of silver.

Blood.

Diyos ko... dugo...!

The pastor's body crumpled forward, his throat slit clean open. His eyes stared, lifeless, at the crowd. And the crowd—nag-che-cheer pa rin sila! The noise of applause, shouting, singing drowned everything else out. The sight of blood should've stopped them, but no. They loved it.

I felt my stomach turn. Ano 'to? Ano'ng nangyayari dito?

The performer stood above the body, slowly wiping the blade, like it was just another day for him. His smile widened—sick, disgusting.

Oh, come on now! he laughed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Don't be like that! I thought someone like you wants the thrill of a mystery? You're supposed to be happy. He leaned closer, eyes gleaming. Surprise!

I couldn't breathe. The air felt thick, heavy. Gusto kong tumakbo. Lumayo. Pero bakit hindi ako makagalaw?

Now then, he continued, turning to the crowd, relishing their madness. You must be wondering... bakit siya pinatay?

My heart raced even faster. What's happening to me? I tried to step back, but my feet wouldn't move. Bakit parang natutulog pa rin ako?

Oh, poor thing, the performer mocked, his voice now softer, almost sweet, like he was talking to a child. Nagtataka ka siguro... 'Bakit hindi ako makatakas? Bakit hindi ako magising?'

Everything around me felt distorted, like a dream warping into a nightmare. My body felt distant, like it wasn't mine anymore.

Hindi ka makakawala, he hissed, his grin growing darker. At lahat ng ito? Lahat ng 'to ay isang panaginip lang.

Panaginip? No. This can't be a dream. It feels too real.

But it is. His voice dropped, full of venom now. At ang pinakamasaya dito? This is as real as you make it. Gising ka, pero natutulog pa rin. Just like the rest of them...

He gestured towards the audience. Their faces were blank, empty, eyes staring ahead like they weren't even there.

...while me? He spread his arms wide, his voice filled with twisted pride. Ako'y gising na gising. And now, so are you.

I felt like I was suffocating. The audience, their vacant eyes, the blood on the stage—everything was spinning out of control. I wanted to wake up. Kailangan kong magising. This isn't real!

The performer's gaze locked onto mine again, and his smirk deepened, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Gusto mo nang makatakas? His voice was teasing, mocking me. Oh, I apologize, but I haven't even announced the very, very important news to all of you.

I fought harder, my mind screaming for release. My body, though—it didn't listen. Bakit hindi  makagalaw?

From this moment forward, he declared, his voice rising like a final announcement, the world will know who we are. We are no longer a secret. We are no longer hiding in the shadows.

He turned back to the crowd, lifting his arms like a preacher ready to deliver a sermon.

Tonight, we declare war. War against everyone too weak, too blind, too... he sneered, 

...asleep to see the truth. And you? You're just like them.

The audience roared, their voices mingling with the performer's laugh. Everything became a blur of noise, blood, and panic. I need to wake up. Please, wake up!

And none of you, the performer said with a final, chilling laugh, none of you can escape.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The world around me spun faster and faster, the nightmare tightening its grip, pulling me deeper into its dark, terrifying depths.

As the spotlight dimmed, the ceiling of my room slowly came into focus. "A dream," I muttered, stretching my limbs as I tried to piece together the eerie fragments. It wasn't just any dream; every detail clung to me like a shadow, vivid and unsettling. Dreams are supposed to blur the moment you wake up, but this one felt different—more real, more... deliberate. I remembered it all.

The way I stood in that theater, in front of the crowd. The eerie thrill of the moment, the strange clarity of it all. It was like I was there, not just watching it happen.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just a dream." I told myself, shaking off the lingering unease. It's not like dreams can hurt you.

But the nagging sensation wouldn't leave. As I caught my reflection in the mirror, the performer from the dream flickered in my mind. That face... his face. The man who killed Pastor Cartillo, who declared war against humanity—it wasn't just someone who looked like me.

It was me. His voice, his stance, everything was mine. He was me. He made me do it. Me. Declare war.

"How did it come to this..."