The Shared Dream Ch. 09: Kyra

I didn't know where I was and I didn't have time to process any of it. I was pounding against the stone wall as hard as I could. I imagined my nails tearing through the concrete, ravaging the wall like a knife through butter. I made a massive drill start working through the wall, imagined all kinds of explosives, but the concrete kept getting thicker, and the closer I looked, the more I saw of Dan. There'd only been one of him at the start, but suddenly, it's like he was replicating himself, completely in tune with his-

"Powers," an exhausted voice marveled. I didn't turn, all my focus was on that wall, impossible to break.

The man stumbled to his feet, resting his hand on his thigh for leverage, "You have the same powers he does? Don't you?"

He kept walking towards me, "Don't you get it? We've got a chance!"

It didn't feel like we did. I ripped and clawed my way through the concrete. I shot laser beams from my eyes that turned the wall to powder, but nothing I did could keep up with Dan.

"You won't beat him," the voice finally said. I was coated in sweat, my eyes narrowed in focus, "You're just one person."

The wall erupted in a cloud of smoke and dust. I screamed, putting all my energy into a blast as I threw a fireball as hard and fast as I could, "So is he."

"No," the man said, "Not really. He's woven his consciousness with the computer. Kyra- you're up against the machine itself."

He'd spoken just enough sense to get me to stop. I collapsed from exhaustion, panting nonstop. I barely had time to grimace before I saw the wall, already healing itself, undoing every last bit of progress I'd made.

"I didn't think," the man muttered fearfully, "None of us did. This wasn't supposed to be possible. No one was meant to integrate with the machine itself. It was supposed to be the invisible layer that made everything possible."

I was still keeled over, trying to catch my breathe, "Just tell me how to get out of here."

"You can't beat him," he decided, "Not one on one at least. We need outside help. Maybe we could get a message out."

I laughed.

"Help? Don't you get it? We're alone! Juliet and Natalie don't even want to leave- and Brynlee wouldn't listen to me no matter what I tried. She's so deep down this rabbit hole she can't think straight."

I could tell he was a little bit shaken up, his years of hopes dashed in a millisecond, but he put on a confident face, and took a step closer. "I have the key that'll end the simulation," he said, "But I need to get to the center- there's a control room that players can't access."

I nodded back towards the wall, "Doesn't change anything with that in the way."

We were locked in a prison, and as far as I knew, I'd be staring at that boring, expanding wall for centuries before someone fixed everything.

"Someone will help," he said. He had to believe it, "Maybe Natalie or Juliet don't want to wake up, but they're still human. Surely they're not ok with us being trapped."

"Who cares?" I muttered, "You said it yourself. He's stronger than me. I can't get us out."

He shook his head, "Dan's strong, but he's not perfect," he muttered, "I've had a lot of time to watch him. Years where he's been the only thing to look at. And he's got a weakness. He's the most arrogant man I've ever met."

I kept staring at the wall, but the man kept creeping closer.

"He thinks everyone else in here's an idiot."

"He's right," I sniffled.

"No," he said confidently, "He's not. He doesn't think anyone else can play his game. You could make a message that burrows it's way out of here, completely silent, and only moving when it was absolutely certain Dan wouldn't notice it. He does caveats like that all the time, and thinks everyone else is too dumb to use their full power."

My hands shook as I raised them up. I started letting my mind wander, and imagined a device that could make it through the wall. I gave one last sniffle, then wiped my face. I sent the device towards the wall, and turned back towards the prison.

"Now what?" he asked.

"We wait."

If I'm going to give Dan any credit at all, it's this: the two of us were stuck in a nicer prison than any in the real world. We had a full house, with anything we could possibly want to do or eat; we just happened to have a wall around us we couldn't break out of. I could imagine sunshine, or rolling grass fields, and it'd feel just like the real world. In truth, my life imprisoned wasn't any different than the one I'd been living. I was still held captive by the greater dream, so Dan was just a change of venue. I did, however, wish I was alone.

The man tried to talk to me every chance he got. He followed me around like a lost little puppy. He always wanted to look at me, hear my voice. I can relate, certainly. He never had my powers. He couldn't just imagine a friend, but goddamnit, he wasn't Benji, and I didn't want him.

"Kyra," he'd say. He always tried out different smiles, one warm, one hopeful. Sometimes he'd look bashful, like he was reluctant to come up to me. All he ever did was try to break through my walls, and get me to talk to him.

"Do you have any ideas?" he'd asked, "Doing anything fun today?"

I'd been in here months, still waiting for my message to break through, and desperate for him to leave me alone.

"Have any cool ideas? Anything in here you want to remodel?"

If I had an idea, It'd already be done. That's how this whole place works.

"You know what's gonna stink?" he'd try, "When we finally get out of here, it's still gonna be all the same movies. No time will have passed at all."

For the millionth time, I ignored him, but for the first time, something in him snapped.

"Goddamnit Kyra, can't you even look at me?" he said, his eyes red, "I'm a human being, not one of your toys. I've been alone for decades and you can't even say hi back?"

"Human being?" I laughed, "Don't you think I know that?"

"You don't act like it."

"What, you want me to be your little wife? Bring you breakfast in bed every morning? Rub your feet? You're not my husband."

"It's a guilt thing?" he scoffed, "Please. I've seen your command logs. I know you've gone through men in here the same way Brynlee has."

"YOU'RE MY CELLMATE!"

"I'm a human!" he screamed, "With needs! To talk, to have a friend! You can't even carry on a conversation?"

He took a step closer to me. I kept trying to look away, but his head was darting around like a pigeon, forcing his eyes to lock with mine, "What are you so afraid of?"

"That I won't be able to tell the difference, ok?" I snapped, "That all the guys I've slept with are just as real as you, or Benji, and that I've actually been cheating on him. I'm terrified I'll get to know you, and you'll be just another program, completely indistinguishable."

His voice went quiet, "I'm not special," he said, "I know that. I'm just a neural interface engineer trying to get home. I'm not as complex as the AI algorithms, and no, you won't be able to tell me apart, but I can't keep living like this Kyra. You don't even know my name."

I looked at him for the first time, really looked at him. I'd never even noticed his eyes were green, or the scar he had above his eyebrow.

"I'm not looking to replace Benji," he said, "I'm just looking for a friend. Someone to talk to. What's so bad about that?"

I kept looking at him. It was lonely in here. "What about you?" I asked, "Do you have a Benji?"

He laughed, "A Katherine. We're still pretty new, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the hell out of her."

I gave in, "I can be your friend, um-"

He finished for me, "Tyler."

One thing I didn't think to do was add a progress indicator to my tunneling message. Days had turned into months, and the prison around us kept getting stronger. I had no idea how close we were to getting out, or if the message had already been sent out, and nobody cared to respond.

Without a real sun, or the ability to fall asleep, it was almost impossible to tell how long we'd actually been together. We tried to fall into simple routines, me doing whatever I wanted, spending two-thirds of the time to myself, and the rest by Tyler's side.

He hadn't aged a day since we'd gotten trapped, but the way his face rested seemed to change. He didn't seem quite so miserable, or trapped; the dejection knowing he'd spend millennia in prison with nothing to do. Neither one of us were the perfect person for each other, but we were real people, and it made the imprisonment just a little bit easier.

He started coming to me for supplies. He'd been alone and bored so long, he was willing to try just about anything, from pottery and painting, to a drum kit in a sound proofed room so I wouldn't have to hear. He talked to me at least once a day, asking for some new paint, an RC car, a book he'd been meaning to read.

He kept trying to get me interested into his hobbies. He'd ask what books I wanted to read, hoping we could have a little club and talk about them. He'd knock on my door and poke his head into my room, just to see what I was playing.

I'd gotten into the habit of streaming again. I wasn't sure why, whether I was trying to keep myself from getting rusty, or trying to give myself some sort of normalcy. When I was just interacting with words on a screen, it was easy to forget it was a computer on the other side instead of real people, and when I lapsed into a long stream, I started forgetting I was trapped in the first place.

No matter what I did though, it wasn't ever a perfect replacement. I always noticed the little things, like the way I never started feeling tired. My thumbs never hurt, nor did my ass after sitting too long. I never had to go to the bathroom- never even had to blink, and after a while, enough of those little reminders would pile up, and I'd remember that nothing was real. Most days, I'd start to cry.

Tyler always stuck around as long as I'd let him. He'd try to stay quiet as he'd sit behind me, but he'd watch and start to smile. Sometimes, he'd even laugh at my jokes.

"You can join me, if you want," he said. I'd just finished the stream, and was ready to lie down and wish I could fall asleep, "With anything. Pottery, painting."

I wanted to lie and be left alone, but it was surprisingly difficult in here. I'm pretty hungry, I'm gonna go make a sandwich- It was impossible to get hungry in here. All our basic needs were met immediately.

"Well, at the very least, can I show you what I've been working on?"

I couldn't come up with an excuse in time, so I agreed to follow him.

"I've, uh, been getting into murals," he said nervously.

I sidestepped through his tarps and art supplies, squinting in the harsh white light.

"It's supposed to be a fictional skyline, but I've filled it with all my favorite characters, kind of little easter eggs all around-"

I probably should have expected some real talent. Tyler never had to sleep, had unlimited resources, and enough boredom to truly fuel his creativity. I stepped past him and took in the single most detailed painting I'd seen in my life. It was like the wall opened up, and I was standing on the ledge of a skyscraper.

I kept waiting for a gust of wind, or something to start moving.

"It was supposed to be a fictional skyline," he sighed, "But I miss home too much. I swear, half the buildings I added were real."

I leaned forward, so close my nose was almost touching the wall. I kept waiting to get close enough that the illusion would start to fall apart, but he'd practically made a photograph.

"It's incredible."

He gave a short, nervous laugh, "I hoped you'd like it."

He kept shaking his head, like he was trying to convince himself of something, "Just seemed only fair. You let me watch you, you've been my only friend, I wanted to make something for you."

He kept putting off his words, procrastinating, "I, uh, I added another easter egg, something I thought you might like."

He jutted his finger forward quickly, like he had to force himself to do it, "I just thought it'd be cool if I added you to the mural."

I followed his finger.

"If you don't like it," he stammered, "I mean, I could-"

"Tyler," I whispered.

"I can paint over it, change the features-"

"No, Tyler," I said a little louder, "It's me."

I couldn't quite make sense of the detail. He didn't have a way to take a picture of me, and I'd never been in the room at the same time, but looking at that mural was like looking into a mirror. It had ever freckle or mole, the way my hair tufted around my ears.

"How did you?" I stammered, "Tyler, it's flawless."

He gave another nervous laugh, "I guess it's just, I'm pretty good at noticing details, remembering faces, you know?"

"I wish I had your talent," I said, "I wish I could picture Benji half as well as you could."

That was my first real mistake with Tyler. I'd opened up a window for real conversation, one that I'd never be able to close again. After that day, I wasn't able to see Tyler as just another program again. He was a real human who paid attention to me, cared about me.

"I tried," I said, "For a long time, I really did. I miss Benji so much more than you can imagine, but I never got him right."

He just shook his head, "It's a paradox, isn't it? When I was painting you, I never went more than a few days without seeing you, so I could always make corrections, but I tried painting Katherine, and the longer I stared at it, the more I just saw what I'd painted. Does that make sense?"

I gave a slow nod. It made all the sense in the world, the same way I couldn't picture Benji anymore.

"You know what fucking terrifies me?" He asked, "That I'm not gonna remember how to be human. I can't picture anyone else anymore, and the longer I'm away, it feels like I can't even remember the things we liked to do together. I don't remember how she dressed, or did her hair, the songs she liked to listen to, remembering the real world is like trying to remember a confusing dream."

Tyler kept making a little too much sense, terrifying sense.

"I think that's why I've been so desperate," he admitted, "Just the simple fact that you're a human, a real human. I wanted to cling on, and keep some sense of self. To remember how to talk to humans, remember what it's like to be around them."

I barely heard the things he said. I was well past trying to picture Benji's face, and was trying to picture his favorite foods, remember a single thing about him other than the things he did for me.

"I was impressed at first," he said. The way you were so confident, so content being on your own in here. I think I was jealous."

"Tyler," I said quietly, "I don't remember his last name."

I felt myself start to hyperventilate. My forehead was sticky with sweat, and my eyes got so wide I could barely focus. Everything before getting sucked in was swirling down some giant drain.

Maybe the machines messing with my head, overtaking my real memories, I thought, Or maybe... good God? How long have we been here? A decade? A century?

Tyler kept coming closer. He rested his arm around my shoulder and sat at my side.

"Just breathe," he said softly. He slowly ran his hand up and down my back, adding an occasional pat, "I've been there. I've had a lot of lonely days, and more panic attacks than I'd ever be able to count. You'll get through it."

I focused on my breathing, In. Out. In. Out.

"That feeling of helplessness," he sighed, "Complete isolation and terror, it's why I started painting stuff like that, a city, filled with people. It's why I wanted, so badly, to have someone to talk to."

"Yeah," I nodded, "Yeah, we should talk."

From that day forward, I kept letting Tyler in, and I never once felt like I was making a mistake. Wouldn't Benji want me to move on if he'd died? Would he really want me to wallow around in loneliness, afraid to talk to the one other person, just because he happened to be a man?

Every day, the thought seemed a little more ridiculous, and the more the months passed, the less I cared. Benji was just my imaginary friend at that point. I didn't know his last name, I didn't know his face, the things he'd been into- anything.

"What if," he offered, "You work your magic, make me look like Benji, and you like Katherine, that way it's not really cheating, just, you know, doing the best we can."

I shook my head. "I couldn't picture Benji when I was fresh, and it doesn't matter how well you describe your girlfriend, I've never met her."

- but that wasn't it. The longer I was in here, the more I just didn't care what Benji thought. I'd been staring at Tyler's green eyes, his unkempt beard and gruff hands for years, the way they looked so longingly at me.

He was helping me with my streams just as much as Benji ever did, wasn't he? I reasoned, And so much more. He's with me one hundred percent of the time, we share every meal, we enjoy each other's hobbies, make each other laugh-

Maybe I'd been in there too long, and my brain had started to deteriorate. I never once considered that this wasn't real life, with real obligations, money, other people, or the simple fact Tyler or I didn't have another choice. We were stuck with each other.

When I'd been in there, locked with one man, I honestly convinced myself I'd fallen in love with him, and we couldn't keep our hands to ourselves any longer.

Benji had been the only man I'd ever seen undress, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Tyler was simply, a normal working man. He had a little more body hair than Benji, a slightly longer cock, and a little less fat around his midsection.

To a mind that'd been trapped for years though, he was a Greek god, and I immediately threw myself after him, planting my lips on his, cupping the back of his head as I wrapped my naked leg around him.

I didn't have to take the usual steps of getting undressed. The second I'd willed my clothes gone they were. Hell, I could have imagined lingerie, or a penguin suit or something, but all either of us wanted was the other's naked body.

I didn't both trimming down my waist, or concealing my stretch marks. In that moment, his body was the only thing that mattered.

I ran my hand all around him, tracing him like his hair was braille that explained the cure to cancer. I kept twisting my neck, changing positions, and kissing him as often as I could, from every angle I could manage.

My hands fell between his legs. I traced the v around his pelvis, until my fingers landed on his dick. I started stroking, faster and faster as he sprang to life. I fell to my knees and wrapped my lips around him, feeling the warmth of another human, and it turned me on more than I'd been in years.

I started giving him the sloppiest, spit soaked blowjob I've ever given in my entire life. I worked my hands in unison with my head, tilting one way, stroking the other. I felt the drool roll down my chin and stick to my chest.

When I was with Tyler, I don't remember having a single thought, nothing but my body and his, every primal instinct telling us to fuck each other.

I rolled him back and started to straddle him. I kept myself balanced with my fingers on his chest before lowering myself onto him.

I locked eyes with him, my chin still soaked with spit, and then I started to ride.

I swung my hips as fast as I'd ever done in my entire life. I brought my hands to my tits and started swirling the spit like lotion. I let myself start to sweat, but no force on the planet could have made me slow down.

I heard the way the bed creaked, the prison itself moving in time with our passion. His hands wandered up my side and came to a rest against my hips.

In that moment, it was just Tyler and I. I didn't see Benji anymore, staring and judging. I didn't feel any guilt, and didn't have any tears. Being with Tyler was the most liberated I'd felt since being locked up.