Lucid Dreaming

by WriterWings

Chapter 13

Floating.

I am floating, floating in the darkness.

I am floating in the darkness, and there is no sound. No sound at all, save for my quiet heartbeat and my steady breathing.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale again.

I am floating in the darkness, and there is nothing there.

...

"Daddy?"

She looks up at me with her innocent little eyes.

"Daddy, what's wrong?"

Oh, how I wish I could tell her. But how does one tell his own daughter that she doesn't exist?

How does one tell his own daughter that even though he wished they could be together forever, he had to leave?

How does one tell his own daughter that... they would never see each other ever again?

She places a hoof on mine. Suddenly, we are in a park, that same park on that same summer day, with the same swings, the same breeze, the same dancing leaves...

"Daddy! Push me on the swings!"

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Not because of the Lucid Dream, no... I just can't find the words to say to her right now.

"Daddy, what's wrong? It's okay, you don't have to worry about nightmares anymore, I'll protect you!"

It's not real. It's not real.

"Daddy, what do you think my cutie mark is going to be? Maybe it'll be a paintbrush. Maybe it'll be a...

It's not real. It's NOT REAL.

"Mummy, is daddy going to die... die... die?"

IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL...

But somehow, no matter how many times I remind myself, nothing changes.

Her voice gets deeper, lower, louder...

"Daddy! I miSseD yOu sO MucH!"

Then laughter. Evil, maniacal laughter.

"Oh, my little Lucid Dreamer. Can't you see? You may have escaped my simulation, but you'll never escape the Residual."

Residual? What is he —

"That's right, 'Lulu'. The Residual. It will stay with you forever, haunting you, torturing you, consuming from the inside. And all because you wouldn't stay put.

"Of course, this went exactly how I planned it from the beginning, Night Ember. Private Comet's death, the loss of your... well, everything," he cackled, licking his lips. "It has all led up to this point.

"And now, you will make quite the delectable main course. I can't wait to serve you to our guest."

---

"Well, here we are: Floor 18," One of the guards announced, shoving the bundled-up prisoners into the lab.

They landed in a pile on the floor, Bolt's hoof in Jasmine's mouth, Jasmine's ear in Night's armpit. Nopony seemed to be too bothered, however; they felt much too groggy to rearrange themselves. That sedative spray really was quite concentrated. How long had they been out for?

"Wanna go grab some donuts?" Another guard suggested.

"Eh, sure, why not. Our job is done anyway," replied the first. "And I could use a little pick-me-up after all that walking."

"Seriously, Dr. Hawk really needs to install an elevator."

They headed out of the laboratory, the bolt sliding behind them with a loud CLUNK.

Night Ember rolled off the others onto his side, his jaw striking the hard tiled floor. Where... where am I? He rubbed his bleary eyes, trying to blink the weariness away, but it had settled on him like a thick, heavy blanket of exhaustion. His legs, body, face felt completely numb, in fact, he didn't think he could even move them properly.

"Bolt..." He croaked weakly. "Jas..."

The other two simply grunted back in reply.

"You guys okay?"

Bolt heaved his head to look at Night. "Why... always... get in... these... situations?" He wheezed.

The lab looked almost identical to Floor 17. Dozens of tanks lining the blank, plaster walls, blinding LED lights flickering up above... The only difference, Night noted, was that the tanks seemed new, unused.

Save for one, which bore the initials J. S. engraved on the glass surface. The others were still blank.

"Floor 18..." He mumbled to himself. So this is where Jasmine had been kept for her Lucid Dream. But why did King Sombra want her? Why did King Sombra want him?

He turned to look at his fellow comrades. Bolt was holding his head in his hooves tightly, as if squeezing his skull would help push the pain out. Jasmine, on the other hand, was rummaging through her utility belt as usual, muttering and mumbling to herself.

Jasmine Skies. If he chose not to say anything to her about it, she would be sold off to King Sombra. But if he did...

No, he groaned. Princess Luna said not to, and there must be a valid reason for it. I just have to...

He glanced back up at the mare. His friend, perhaps one of the only ones he had, save for Bolt and Sid. She had saved his life so many times in the short time he had known her; she had saved him from the Lucid Dream, saved him from Dr. Hawk's guards... and what had he done to repay her? Nothing.

Night gulped. There was something he had to do. He had no choice.

"Jasmine? Bolt? There's something I need to tell you guys."

---

"Sir, we have important news from the guards outside!"

Dr. Hawk spun around in his swivel chair, his hooves caked in cheese dust. He had been enjoying a particularly tasty snack to commemorate his victory, and he wasn't too pleased on being so rudely interrupted.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"It's His Royal Highness!" the guard replied. "He has arrived early, sir!"

Of course. He had calculated this all along. Reaching for a wet wipe, he cleaned his hooves and stood up, a small grin escaping his lips.

"Tell him to come in right away," he decided. "After all, it's rude to keep a customer waiting."

The guard scurried off to pass on his orders as Dr. Hawk turned on his monitors, and sure enough, King Sombra was standing in the snow, muscular bodyguards stationed at his sides.

Dr. Hawk laughed and licked his lips. "It's finally time," he hissed, shedding the skin of the old doctor off of his true self. "It's finally time to feed."

In only a rapid flash of light, he was merely an innocent purple unicorn, somepony most would call by his first name, Obsidian.

But the Lucid Dreamers? Oh, that was easy. They could call him Sid.

Comments

[Peppermint N Swirl]

Great story, I'm looking forward to the future chapters