The room was vast and grand, its vaulted ceilings disappearing into darkness above. A long banquet table stretched the length of the space, piled high with platters of food that glittered like jewels. Fruits, meats, and desserts, more lavish than anything imaginable, glistened under the soft glow of hundreds of golden candelabras. Music played from somewhere distant, a slow, sweet melody that filled the air like the scent of honey.
Iris sat at the head of the table, her hands resting on the polished wood, unsure of how she had come to be there. She glanced down at her gown, an intricately embroidered dress of deep emerald that seemed to shimmer in the flickering light. It was far more elegant than anything she had ever owned, far too grand for someone like her. The fabric was soft against her skin, though she couldn't remember when she had changed into it.
The food before her was stunning - plump figs bursting with color, roasted turkeys glazed with rich sauces, and cakes piled with layers of cream. Everything was perfect, so perfect it felt almost unreal.
"Is it all for me?" she wondered aloud, her voice echoing in the vast hall.
As if in response, a figure appeared at the far end of the room, slowly walking toward her. It was a man, tall and dressed in a simple tunic, his face obscured by the dim light. His steps were slow, deliberate, as though each one was measured carefully. The closer he came, the more details Iris could make out - dark hair, sharp features, and eyes that glittered with an unusual brightness. When he reached her, he stopped just short of the table and smiled, bowing his head slightly.
"Everything here is for you," he said, his voice smooth as silk.
Iris blinked, unsure of what to say. The room, the feast, the man - it was all so strange, yet none of it felt threatening. On the contrary, it felt warm, inviting. Familiar, even. She glanced around, taking in the sight of the endless banquet once more.
"But... I don't remember coming here. Where am I?"
The man's smile widened, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. "You are exactly where you're meant to be. You've been invited to the feast, and it's all yours to enjoy."
Iris felt a flicker of uncertainty, but pushed it aside. The scent of the food was intoxicating, the richness of it making her mouth water. She hadn't eaten in what felt like ages, though she couldn't remember when she had last been hungry. She reached for a golden goblet near her plate, filled with a deep red liquid. She brought it to her lips, hesitating only a moment before taking a sip. The wine was exquisite - warm, sweet, and rich. As it slid down her throat, a warmth spread through her chest, loosening the tightness in her muscles. She sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feeling. When she opened them, the man had taken a seat beside her, though she hadn't seen him move. He watched her with an intensity that made her heart race.
"Go ahead," he urged, gesturing to the food. "Enjoy."
Iris hesitated for only a second before reaching for a ripe peach, its skin soft under her fingers. As she bit into it, the juice burst across her tongue, sweet and vibrant, filling her with a sense of lightness. She hadn't tasted anything like it before. It was perfect, almost too perfect.
The man watched her closely, his eyes gleaming. "Do you like it?"
"It's... incredible," Iris said, wiping the juice from her chin. "But I still don't understand. Who are you? What is this place?"
The man leaned back in his chair, his fingers tracing the rim of his own wine glass. "This is a place of dreams. A place where you can have anything you desire."
Iris frowned, her mind struggling to grasp his words. A place of dreams? She set the peach down and glanced around again. The room hadn't changed - the food, the music, the warmth of the light, it was all still there. Still perfect. Yet, something inside her began to shift, a nagging sense that this was all too good to be true.
"But why me?" she asked softly. "Why am I here?"
He smiled again, but this time, there was something darker behind it, something she couldn't quite place. "Because the Dream Rose chose you."
"Dream Rose?" The name sounded familiar, though she couldn't recall where she'd heard it before. It was like a memory lingering just out of reach.
He stood, then moved toward her slowly. "The Dream Rose brings peace to those who need it. As the name suggests, it brings dreams - beautiful dreams. And here, in this place, you are free to live in them as long as you wish."
Iris' heart began to beat faster. "This is a dream?"
"Yes," he said simply, stepping closer until he stood behind her chair. He leaned down, his voice low in her ear. "And you need never wake again."
Iris' breath caught in her throat. The words, though spoken gently, sent a shiver down her spine. She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face for answers. "But... if this is a dream, then... what's real?"
The man's smile faltered, just for a second, before returning to his lips. "Real?" He placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm. "What is real, Iris, but what you choose to believe? Here, you can have everything you've ever wanted. Why would you ever want to leave?"
Iris stood suddenly, her chair scraping against the floor. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. The room seemed to blur for a moment, the edges of the banquet table shimmering like heat rising off a summer road. She felt dizzy, unsteady.
The man moved closer, his hand still on her shoulder. "There's no need to be afraid," he said softly. "This is a gift. Stay. Enjoy it."
Iris shook her head, stepping away from him. The warmth of the room now felt stifling, the rich scent of the food too heavy. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones. This dream - it wasn't right. It wasn't real.
"I want to wake up," she whispered, her voice shaking.
The man's smile disappeared, his eyes growing cold. "You don't understand, Iris. You can't wake up."
Panic flared in her chest, and she stumbled backward, knocking over a goblet that spilled wine across the table. The liquid spread like blood over the pristine white tablecloth, and the music, once so sweet, turned discordant, jarring.
"I want to wake up!" Iris cried, turning to run, but the room seemed to stretch endlessly before her.
The walls grew farther and farther away, and the banquet table twisted and elongated, the food now rotting, decayed, maggots crawling over the once-beautiful feast.
The man's voice echoed around her, dark and mocking. "The Rose has chosen you. This is your dream now. You are not meant to leave."
She ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but no matter how far she ran, she couldn't escape the room. The candelabras flickered and died, plunging her into darkness. She screamed, the sound swallowed by the void around her.
And then, silence.
Iris woke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. She was in her bed, the early morning light streaming through the window. Her breathing was labored, her body covered in a cold sweat. For a moment, she lay there, her mind reeling from the dream. It had felt so real. Too real. But as she glanced around her familiar bedroom, the terror began to fade. It was just a dream.
Her eyes fell on her nightstand, and her blood ran cold. There, in a small crystal vase, sat a single Amber Rose, its crystalline petals glowing softly in the faint morning light.
