BEYOND THE DREAMLINE

BEYOND THE DREAMLINE Chapter 1: The Place Between Sleeps

The first time Adrian saw the dead, he thought he was dreaming.The second time, he told himself it was only a recurring dream.By the seventh night, he had begun to wonder why the place remembered him when he could barely remember it.At twenty-nine, Adrian had more practical things to worry about than strange dreams. He had work to finish, bills to pay, and a life that rarely gave him enough time to think about anything beyond the next day.He was not a man who believed in signs.If something went wrong, there was usually a reason. If something could not be explained, he simply had not found the explanation yet.That was what he believed.Until the dreams began.The place always appeared without warning.There were no doors to enter through, no paths leading into it. One moment, Adrian would be asleep in his own bed; the next, he would find himself standing beneath a pale, unfamiliar sky.The ground stretched into the distance, disappearing beneath a thin veil of mist. There were no buildings he recognized, no trees bearing leaves, and no sun he could point to. Yet the place was not entirely dark.It was simply difficult to tell where the light came from.People filled the open space.Some stood alone. Others gathered in small groups, speaking in low voices. A few sat on the ground with their heads bowed, while others stared into the distance as if waiting for someone who had been gone for far too long.No one seemed surprised to be there.Adrian was the only one who looked lost.“Excuse me,” he said to an elderly man sitting on a stone bench. “Can you tell me where I am?”The old man glanced at him.“Where do you think you are?”“That is why I'm asking.”“Then I suppose we are both waiting for an answer.”Adrian stared at him for a moment, unsure whether the man was being serious.He decided not to waste any more time.A short distance away, two men were having an argument.“It is much hotter today,” one complained.“Perhaps you have more to think about,” the other replied.“I am talking about the heat, not my thoughts.”“Then perhaps you should think about why you feel it.”The first man looked deeply offended.“Sometimes, I wish you would stop talking.”“You could have done that a long time ago.”Adrian almost smiled.Even his dreams had people who could turn a simple conversation into an exhausting experience.But the humor faded as he continued walking.There was something strange about the people here.Not everyone seemed to suffer in the same way.A man nearby stood with his eyes closed, his face tense with discomfort. Another sat perfectly still, looking as though he had grown accustomed to something he could not escape. A woman held her hands together and whispered words Adrian could not hear.Yet a few others appeared almost peaceful.They occupied the same place, breathed the same air, and stood beneath the same pale sky.Still, their experiences seemed painfully different.Adrian approached a man who was watching the others.“Why does everyone look so troubled?”The man did not look at him.“Everyone?”“Most of them, then.”“Perhaps you are beginning to notice.”“Notice what?”The man finally turned.“That depends on what you are willing to understand.”Adrian opened his mouth to respond, but a voice suddenly rang across the gathering.It called a name.A name Adrian had never heard before.The effect was immediate.Conversations stopped. Several people turned toward the sound. Someone slowly rose to his feet, while an elderly man lowered his head as though he had just received news he had been dreading.Even the two men arguing about the heat fell silent.Adrian followed their gazes.A figure stood at the far end of the open ground.He could not make out the stranger's face, but something about the way everyone watched him made Adrian uneasy.Someone whispered, “He has returned.”Another voice answered, “No. He has only just arrived.”Adrian turned toward them.“What does that mean?”Neither person responded.He looked back at the stranger.For a brief moment, Adrian felt certain that the figure was looking directly at him.Then a strange sensation passed through his body.The world seemed to tilt.The voices faded, the pale sky dissolved, and the ground beneath his feet vanished.Adrian woke up in his bed.His room was dark, his blanket twisted around his legs. The clock on his bedside table showed that it was still early morning.He sat there for a while, trying to recall the dream before it slipped away.The old man.The argument.The stranger.And that unfamiliar name.“Just a dream,” he muttered.He got up, washed his face, and went on with his day.By breakfast, he could barely remember the details. At work, the dream became little more than a vague impression. By the time he returned home, he had almost convinced himself that it meant nothing.Almost.That night, he went to bed expecting an ordinary sleep.Instead, he found himself standing in the same place again.The pale sky.The mist.The endless gathering of strangers.Adrian stared at his surroundings.“No way.”He walked toward the stone bench.The elderly man was there, sitting in precisely the same position as before.This time, the old man looked up before Adrian could speak.“You came back.”Adrian stopped.“You remember me?”“Shouldn't I?”Adrian frowned.He knew dreams could repeat themselves. He had experienced that before. But this felt different. The old man's expression was not the vague familiarity of a dream character. It was the calm recognition of someone who had been expecting him.“What's your name?” Adrian asked.The old man ignored the question.“Tell me something, Adrian.”Adrian went still.“How do you know my name?”The old man looked past him.Only then did Adrian notice the people around them moving away.They did not run or shout. They simply stepped aside, leaving an empty space around him.A woman standing near the mist watched him for a moment before turning away.Adrian caught a glimpse of her face.There was something unbearably sad about her expression, though he could not have explained why. For an instant, he thought she might say something.Instead, she lowered her gaze and disappeared into the gathering.He turned back to the old man.“What is this place?”The old man rose slowly from the bench.“You should not have found your way here so soon.”“Found my way where?”The old man studied him.There was no anger in his face, only a kind of recognition that Adrian found more frightening than any threat.“Go back,” the old man said.“Why?”“While you still remember what it means to wake up.”The words barely left his mouth before the world began to disappear.Adrian tried to move, but the ground seemed to pull away from him.He woke with a sharp breath, his hands gripping the sheets.For several seconds, he could not move.Then he reached for his phone.Three in the morning.His room was silent. The familiar walls, the curtains, the clock—all of them were exactly where they belonged.He was home.He was awake.So why did the old man's words still feel like a warning?Adrian lay back down, staring at the ceiling until the darkness outside his window began to fade.He told himself he would forget the dream.He told himself he would return to his ordinary life and never think about it again.But somewhere beyond the reach of his waking mind, a woman stood at the edge of the mist.She had heard that Adrian had returned.For a long time, she said nothing.Then someone beside her asked, “Do you think he will remember?”The woman looked toward the empty space where Adrian had stood.“No,” she answered.Her voice was quiet, but there was no relief in it.“Not yet.”She turned away.Because there were things she had spent a lifetime trying to keep buried.And if Adrian ever discovered the truth, he would not be the only one who had to face it.