The Human Trapped In my Head (4/?) (Patreon)

I never really had dreams in this place. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that our bunks were effectively just concrete slabs with a light mesh of some 3rd, 4th, or even some 5th generation hand-me-down mattress from who knows where. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that a good number of deathworlders were present in the same section of the dorms with me. The masters hadn’t been paying much attention to the various idiosyncrasies that came with the habitation requirements of each and every slave here. So when they saw the word deathworlder pop up on their databases, they simply constructed a dormitory to house all of them, regardless of their specific needs.

It was because of this that a great deal died before they even reached the mines. Not because they couldn’t tolerate the sweltering heat or the uncomfortable mattresses, no. But because the territoriality that came with certain deathworlders was beyond comparison. In the span of a few months, the turnover rates for any deathworlder not of my own kind, or the titular territorial Takleds, became so high that our owners had simply decided to forego any more purchases. It was simpler just to buy more Takleds, eventually phasing out my kind as well. It was because of this that I had to sleep with one eye open practically every single day. The only reason why I wasn’t dead yet was because of my brush with fate with their former pack leader. The deal was simple, after beating him in combat, I would be his liaison to the Viltani. The packmaster knew that they had little clue of how other species, let alone advanced space age technologies and cultures worked. And so, a fellow deathworlder who had that knowledge would be valuable, so long as I kept my end of the bargain.

So it didn’t come as a surprise that for the past decade, dreams had become a distant memory. A memory that I had imagined would never really rear its head back again, until of course, it did.

It had been a few days after the discovery of that strange metal disc that had embedded itself into my hand and I’d not changed my diet up much despite what the virtual being demanded. It was because of this that I assumed it wouldn’t be popping back in any time soon. I was proven wrong as on one of the many, identical nights of sleep, I saw him again. Or rather, I could hear him, as the world around me shifted and contorted into an environment that I could more comfortably perceive, one that shook me to my core.

My old home.

I’d practically forgotten what this place had looked like, not because I wanted to but because I needed to forget. To maintain a deep, emotional connection to such a place thousands of light years away where I had no chance of seeing again was just too much. So I’d willingly forgotten it, buried it underneath memories of lashings, beatings, and toil.

I looked around, my hands grazing against the hardwood table that stood flush against the door that led to the small, farming community I’d been instrumental in constructing. The same community I’d let down when the slavers arrived.

A turmoil of emotions started to well within me as I shifted to and fro, my hands touching, grabbing, trying to make sense of the memory that seemed to be stuck in time, and my body that still bore the scars and chains of slavery.

None of it made any sense, until finally, I heard the tell-tale signs of the creature. This time, instead of being an incorporeal voice in my head, he spoke through the speaker systems of my home, and whatever screens and electronic devices that were present here.

“Right. I apologize if this is not the best memory to bring up. I just ran a program and it said this would be the best one for us to talk in. Again, sorry, you… are you doing okay?” The voice started, filtered through a heavy electronic overtone that made it difficult to discern, at least at first.

“You.” I practically growled back, marching into my living room and staring blankly at the television screen that seemed to be displaying the very words that voice had spoken.”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m saving as much energy as I can so I’m using your local memories, and not importing any of my own. Hope that’s alright?”

I could only scoff in utter disbelief at what I was hearing. Whatever creature this was… it clearly didn’t have any semblance of interpersonal tact as it continued to taunt me with a life that I’d never be able to get back.

“Alright? Alright?!” I shot back with a snarl. “I don’t know if this is some sick and twisted joke to you, or perhaps it’s simply the fact that you lack the ability to parse common sapient decency like the Takled mutts, but this is not alright!” I paused, realizing that it was no use glaring down a television screen, especially one that was in my head, as I cooled down for a moment to gather myself. “You place me back in a home which I was ripped from, a place that reminds me of the family that I lost, does that sound like an appropriate place to you?” I spoke with a low, dulcet growl. “Tell me creature, why did you choose this memory out of all the other memories in my head? Answer me that.”

The voice went silent for a moment, a long drawn out silence that was only punctuated by the shallow, almost muffled noises of squawking birds in the far distance. Everything within my immediate field of view felt real, felt so tangible, yet, there was that undeniable sense of falseness to all of it. It was, as the voice had stated, a living memory. And so imperfections started to appear the more I concentrated on the finer details of things.

“Erm. Well. It’s just because that’s what your brain seems to say is the happiest and calmest memory you might want to relive?” The creature responded with that same off-puttingly confused response. A response that felt like he was just as perplexed by the situation as I was, and what’s more, felt as if he was just as emotionally drained and distressed as well. “Listen…” The human continued. “I’m not a fucking mind reader. I don’t have direct access to your memories. The thing is, I just picked and chose a place for us to talk. And the computer said that this was the least likely to tick you off and the most likely to be calming for you. So I chose it.” The creature sounded genuinely apologetic with that response, something that I wasn’t expecting as my anger began to recede. “I’m sorry alright? I’m sorry if this place makes you upset. I could change if you want to-”

“No! No…” I interjected with a loud bark. Something that the creature didn’t expect as at this point, if the creature had a face I could stare at, I could only assume we would both be staring each other down in confusion. “I… I think I kind of like this, come to think of it.” I let out a solemn sigh.

I knew that this place wasn’t real. Nothing here was real, and it was more than likely that I’d never get to see it again. Still, that didn’t change the fact that I finally had some sort of reprieve from the horrors of my life in chains. Because at least here, in whatever dream, hallucination, illusion this was… I finally had some semblance of control back again, and that was liberating.

“Erm. You alright there friend?” The creature spoke once more, a tinge of concern was clear in his voice as he continued. “You’ve been quiet for like, 10 minutes dream time now, and that translates to about an hour in real time, so yeah… just wanted to check up on you and-”

“Thank you.” I interjected suddenly.

“W-what?”

“Thank you for bringing me back here.” I explained.

“You do still realize we aren’t really here right? Just wanted to make that clear that I wasn’t like messing with your brain to the point where you’re actually believing this to be a real place and-”

“I know. I know.” I stopped the creature in his tracks before he could go off into his tangent born of obvious worry.

The both of us were silent once more as I took a seat on my sofa, feeling the soft, clean-linen texture of it against my rough scales, and exhaling in satisfaction.

“I… I’ll be here ready to talk whenever you’re ready, friend.” The creature spoke once more, as I could only nod in reply.

“We can meet again at any point, correct? In this same place?” I asked.

“Yeah, of course. That’s the plan anyways. Like, I think with the power levels and whatnot all I’m doing is simulating a dream. It shouldn’t be draining much energy from your body or my systems so, I’m down for talking every day if we need to. Like, debriefing you and whatnot. I was actually planning to replay memories on the TV here, so whatever you see during the day we can discuss and plan out our plan of attack on leaving this place and all that jazz.”

I once more nodded, a small smile forming on my maw for the very first time in a long time.

“I think I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” I spoke softly, allowing myself to just sink back into the comfort of the only life I’d known before the arrival of the pirates and the journey that had seen me enslaved.

For over a decade now my waking world had been all that I had to experience. There were no reprives, no days off, not even a break lasting longer than an hour or two. The time spent asleep was spent with the fear that every day could be my last. There was not a moment that I could recall an escape to my reality. That was, until today.

As I continued to look out the window, at the world I knew had gone up in flames a decade ago… I reiterated to myself just how dangerous it could be to slip into this false sense of safety, to feel so removed from the only life I’d known for a decade.

But I didn’t care.

This was my first reprieve in over a decade.

And it felt good.