Chapter 133 – The Edge of Dreamland

Chapter 133 – The Edge of the Dream Realm
Do you want to go and see what the edge of your dream world looks like when you are awake?
Duncan’s words, spoken with a smile on his face, actually sounded to Shirley as if they were a low lure from the dark depths of the ocean abyss, and a shudder rose in her heart, instinctively resisting the suggestion, but with an uncontrollable urge to –

What on earth could there be in this nightmare that had tormented her for eleven years, outside this locked cottage, in the street …… that she had not visited with her own eyes eleven years ago?
Subconsciously, she inhaled softly and turned her head to look out the small window not far away.

A dark red color like withered blood filled the small window, so that she could not see the scene on the street – in that early morning eleven years ago, lit by the fire, she was never able to look out of the window, and therefore in this dream, the scene outside the window was hidden in the chaotic light, and could not be seen, even the living room outside the room, she looked out through the doorway only a haze. Even the living room outside the room, which she saw through the doorway, was only a hazy darkness.

The dream reflected her own memories and perceptions, eleven years ago she was not able to escape from this hut, eleven years later today, is it really possible for her to walk out of this room?

“Can people really walk around in their own dreams ……” Shirley couldn’t help but mutter, “I have no idea what’s out there …… out there! Could it be nothingness?”

“Dreams are a mapping of one’s subconscious mind, and one’s subconscious mind tends to memorize ‘details’ that even one can’t detect,” Duncan’s voice came from the direction of the doorway, “Perhaps you were always trapped in this room eleven years ago , but the light from the window, the sounds, and the things you remembered through your ‘intuition’ all filled in your dreams, and in those details, we might be able to glimpse a few clues.

“Of course, the decision is yours, and if you refuse, I will not continue to pry into your dreams – I will stay here, and rest assured that as long as I am here, this nightmare will not continue, and you will sleep in peace, and there will still be a clear morning tomorrow.”

Shirley bit her lip gently, then as if it took a great deal of strength to make up her mind, “I …… want to go out and look around.”

“Good,” Duncan nodded, sidestepping to the side to make way for the doorway, “I’ll join you.”

A Subspace Shadow, a Mobile Skyscraper, offering to speak up and offer to walk with him – it should have been a terrifying invitation, and yet for some reason, for once, Shirley was suddenly relieved.

It was as if a cluster of warm light had suddenly appeared in this endless nightmare of darkness, allowing herself to relax a little.

She thought that she must have gone crazy, growing mad in the process of living with an evil god.

Duncan followed Shirley, and together the two of them stepped through the wooden door of the small room and into the parlor that Shirley remembered from her childhood.

Dog followed them as well, the Spectral Hound looking nervous, keeping a cautious eye on his surroundings and making a show of listening sideways every now and then, watching the streets for any unusual movements.

Sherry was a little curious at the sight, “What are you doing Dog?”

“Scouting,” Dog said in a deep voice, “We are entering the unknown zone in the dream world …… Further on, it is an area that does not exist in your memory, the theory is that the things in front of this will be more and more inclined to the subconscious mind of your imaginations and strong emotions, and with fear as the dominant factor, these imaginations and strong emotions tend to generate something …… less friendly.”

Sherry was surprised, “Dog you even know about that?”

“A little bit,” Dog shook his head, “I’m at least an orthodox Spectral Demon ……”

Duncan, however, didn’t care about Shelly and Dog’s conversation, he was keeping an eye out for any clues in the living room.

A sort of chaotic, hazy darkness enveloped the slightly shabby little hall, as if there was an evanescent smoke filling the space, and he saw wooden shelves placed against the wall as well as a table and chairs on one side of the living room, and an old-looking wall clock hung on the wall, the hands on the dial blurring and distorting as if they were jittery smoke, darting around in meaningless circles.

A deep scratch could be seen on the floor in the center of the living room.

That was the mark left by the Dog of that year when he broke in.

Other than that, there were no bloodstains, no corpses, and no traces of fire in the living room – the “fire” seemed to be confined to the street outside, or perhaps it was simply because, in Shirley’s subconscious mind, the fire had never spread to the room.

They walked through the living room to the front door.

The door had a large hole in it, with only the frame and a few broken pieces of wood still hanging over it, apparently the work of the Hound of the Daleks.

Further out, there was the street engulfed in fire.

Shirley stopped abruptly.

She had come this far, but realized with a jolt what it was she was really fearing, resisting.

“Sherry?” Dog noticed Sherry’s hesitation and looked up curiously.

Shirley bit her lip tightly, as if she hadn’t heard Dog’s words, and stared dead ahead at the street outside the gates, at the mist filled with distorted red light, feeling every cell, every nerve in her body tighten, flinch, fear.

It was as if she saw her parents who had never returned after going out, and seeing them collapsed right in front of her house, she didn’t even dare to imagine what it would be like, didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if she took a step out.

Then she heard the movement of the chains rattling softly.

Dog stepped forward of his own accord, poking his head in the direction of the street and then withdrawing it.

“Shirley, it’s okay, there’s nothing to be afraid of out there, there’s also …… no way to tell.”

Shirley was a little surprised to see the empty sockets of the Phantom Hound’s eyes, and she pursed her lips, “Thanks.” She then took a step out of her eleven year old home.

The streets were filled with a layer of mist, and the outlines of houses and streetlights, as well as the twisted and undulating pavement, could be faintly seen in the thin, dark red fog.

The buildings in the distance trembled abnormally in the mist, they had been burned into frames in the fire, taking on a dark or dark red hue, their edges quivering like indeterminate flames, and every now and then there was a crackling popping sound coming from nowhere, as if the fire was still spreading out of sight.

Tiny sparks and dust and ashes floated in the air, mixed with a pungent odor.

Duncan frowned slightly.

The fires in the streets had gone out, leaving only traces of the burning aftermath, the ubiquitous ash and those suspicious molten piles on the corners of the streets proving that the fires were real.

But he didn’t see any clues that might have anything to do with the sun shard.

On second thought, however, this seemed normal – this was, after all, only Shirley’s dream world, a stage where her memories, perceptions and imagination were woven together, rather than actually bringing everything back eleven years.

With such thoughts, he followed Shirley’s side as he slowly walked through the street that had been burned by the fire.

Suddenly, his steps stopped.

Sherry looked back in surprise, “Mr. Duncan?”

Duncan frowned and waved his hand, listening sideways to the movement around him.

Just moments ago, it was as if he heard a faint voice murmuring something in his ear.

He discerned it carefully for half a second, and then suddenly made his way to a pile of ashes on the side of the road.

That is a pile of twisted black ash, interspersed with some as if not burned out of the charred black debris, ashes and even still have a spark of static combustion, if you carefully distinguish, you can vaguely see that this group of ashes vaguely present a huddled …… “person”.

Duncan stared at the ashes for half a day, slowly bent down, listening to –

“…… I …… don’t want to die ……”

The mass of ash murmured softly.

Duncan’s eyes widened slightly.

And Sherry, who was following closely behind him, heard the murmur as well, the girl’s reaction a little more blunt:
“My X what the fuck is this shit?!”

Duncan turned back slightly, and Shirley then hurriedly adjusted her wording again, “Uh, I mean it’s scary oh ……”

“…… I still like how straight you were just now,” Duncan’s mouth twitched a little, he was actually startled by the murmur of ash, but was completely overshadowed by Sherry’s staccato voice, and then his eyes fell on the street where more ash was pile.

Soft, continuous and overlapping murmurs accompanied by floating ashes and sparks on the street drifted into his and Sherry’s ears.

“I don’t want to die ……” “Help ……”” …… go home ……” “Someone help ……”

A creepy feeling filled her heart, and Shirley subconsciously leaned toward Dog, feeling her muscles tighten.

She dared to whip out a demon hound to fight the cultists, but lacked the resistance to this kind of sheer creepy evil.

What’s more, it was her own nightmare – the hardest thing for a person to fight is always the terror in their own mind.

But just then, she was suddenly confused for a moment:
Was this really her own nightmare?

Was this really purely a dream? At the edge of the dream world, far away from her own memories and perceptions, why would there be these cries for help that she should never have come across and could never have imagined?
Shirley subconsciously looked at Duncan, but saw that the latter was also turning his gaze, his deep eyes full of scrutiny and thought.

“This may be more than a mere dream.”

Duncan said in a deep voice.

(End of chapter)