These Dreams of Truth

The Torture Machine

(Blood gore and violence warning)

Silvia's high heeled uniform black shoes clicked monotonously alongside me as we made our way across The Facility. 

I dragged my right hand along the pristine white wall looking absentmindedly at it's windowless surface. I knew the parents of the children admitted here were not allowed to know where "here" was, but they certainly hadn't given any clues to the patients either.

After several minutes of intense wall contemplation, Silvia alerted me of our arrival. 

"Alright," Silvia had said while holding the door open for me. "You can go sit on the chair in the center. Doctor Jackson and his team should be here soon." I sat, feeling the familiarity of the rough leather beneath me, and Silvia directed me "Feel free to relax yourself. I am going to prepare your dose to ease you into sleep." She lifted a syringe and a bag of grayish purple fluid to show me.

My elbow ached slightly at the sight. I'm no stranger to having an IV in my arm or having drugs run through my system, but the artificial sleep this induced made my already messed up mind uncomfortable.

Although the reasons this test was conducted was because they could always get a monitorable dream, it wasn't authentic. I was still in a dreamlike state, aware of my dreaming and able to do what ever I pleased, but it still wasn't the same. I was strictly limited, if this were possible in a lucid dream. 

While I reminisced over past experiences in this chair, Doctor Jackson and his team arrived.  He smiled at me and got out a helmet full of electrodes as one of his assistants lowered the back of my chair. I stayed sitting up straight, as a third assistant adheres four electrodes onto my back. He zipped up the back of my dress and cleaned the inside of each of my elbows. Silvia appeared at my left side and laid a comfortable hand on my arm.

"Ready for your dose?" she asked; a man on my right inserted an IV to my elbow. I nodded, knowing it was my only option, let alone the umpteenth time I had gone through such a process. 

I relaxed into the back of the chair, feeling minor pinpricks, but mostly drowsiness. Although I was obviously asleep during this process, it was always an exhausting experience. My eyes closed involuntarily as I slipped into unconsciousness. 

I awoke, standing in a small concrete courtyard. The walls around me each had a window, showing a different location and people.

Immediately ahead of me was a couple in a too-clean-to-be-real subway station. The man had just knelt down and proposed to the woman. She accepted the expensive looking ring with excitement and proceeded to hug him, overzealous about her new fiance. She began to jump around before leaping into his own arms. They hugged like this for a brief time before he set her down, but the drop was too forceful and caught her off guard. She lost balance but managed to grab his hand as she fell back. Pulling him along with her, they tumbled onto the train tracks behind them. No one else in the station noticed, and the train that was arriving didn't either. It may have slowed a bit while crossing over the male's ribs, but moved on smoothly otherwise. Passengers exchanged spots and left the station. The train left soon as well, giving me a gory view of the couple's severed middles and dead eyes. No longer able to stand the sight, I moved to the next window.

The room to their left pictured a similar looking couple in a hospital, the woman was giving birth. A faceless doctor cut the umbilical cord and left to go clean up the baby. Although, the woman still appeared to be in unbelievable pain. Were they having twins, I wondered? But the look on her partner's face did not show that he was waiting for a second child. Rather, fear for his wife. He watched a tear slowly dribble down her cheek. The doctor returned with their child and noticed the couple's panicked state. He handed the baby to it's father and went to check the woman's vitals on his monitor. It was beeping madly at him as the woman's tears began to turn red. Her face was streaked in blood as more poured out of her eye sockets, turning her white gown a deep crimson. The distraught doctor ran about the room trying to save the poor woman, but was unsuccessful as she flat lined soon after. Her husband stared in disbelief at her lifeless body, clutching his sobbing child. I felt a tear dribble down my own cheek as I moved on.

The room that was originally to my immediate right pictured a large, dark funeral hall. A woman was paying her respects to the body in the coffin while choking back tears. From the side view I was experiencing, the woman looked to be about the same age as the man she was mourning. Because of the way she caressed his ringed left hand with her own, I assumed this must have been her husband. The couple looked roughly like the last two, only much older, as if they had experienced a long and fulfilling life together. A shorter woman came to join the one in grief, making a third person in their room. She comfortingly wrapped her arms around the first woman and they left together, the scene of death too much for the both of them.

I turned and left for the final window I originally had my back to, only to confuse myself further. I walked forward to see the same couple, but only didn't see them as "the couple from the first three windows." I saw and remembered them as my parents. My mother smiled and opened her arms as I began to run toward them. It had been so long, I thought I had forgotten them, but this was without a doubt my family. Every part of me I recognized urged me to go to them, to reunite myself with my family and leave this awful place. Suddenly, as I was running, my body connected with the wall I had forgotten about that was separating us. I felt the pain physically, not just in my dream, and it was enough to wake me from my drugged slumber.

I sat up straight, my muscles sore as if I had actually run into a wall. The room was empty, save for Silvia, who was patiently waiting for me to stand. I did, and before I could ask, she told me "Doctor Jackson and his team left just before you had your fitful awakening. Your electrodes are all still attached as well as the IVs, but I can take care of that now." She did as she informed me. Once I was completely detached from everything, she said, "You appeared to have had quite an emotional time. I will be waiting in the hallway for you to clean yourself up." She gestured to a small mirror and a box of tissues while exiting the room.

I did as she suggested, wiping the tears from my face and sticking to the emotionless standard that was strongly promoted in The Facility. On my way out the door, I noticed something strange. Beneath the chair I had previously slept in, a sheet of paper in a similar format to the ones I had seen on Doctor Jackson's clipboard. 

This one was filled out, and read "Test 0000783: Patient Cynder Levant will see three scenes of death, each featuring her parents. However, she will not realize her relation to the couple until the fourth and final window where we will reveal it. She will then wake up. The scenes of death will include death in birth, death at proposal, and finally, death of old age. The following chart will include her reaction(s)." Below, rough notes were scribbled that matched my experience alarmingly well.

Although I was angry, I managed to carefully fold the paper and slip it into the soul of my shoe, having no where else to put it due to lack of pockets. I met Silvia at the door once again and she smiled at me.

"Lunch will be in about a half hour," she stated smiling, "which should leave approximately twenty minutes by the time we return to your room." She started off down the hall, pushing a strand of her perfectly straight brown hair behind her ear. I followed, feeling the edge of the paper lightly scratch the bottom of my foot with each step.