Ekstanza

The road was slippery. It was raining heavily, to top it off. A moment's inattention and he would have skidded. Then he'd have found himself under the wheels of a truck. This time he was lucky; only trucks were on the road! His chances of survival were slim to none.

The rain was falling harder, and his windshield wipers couldn't keep up with the flowing streams of water. Visibility was becoming hopeless; he couldn't see a thing. Cars coming from the opposite direction, as well as those in front, disappeared behind a milky mist. As if to make matters worse, the high beams of the vehicles blinded him.

He had no idea how long it would take. He hoped he'd make it home safe and sound. And the car would still be at least somewhat functional after the storm. The only upside was that it was an Agency car, so if there was an accident, he wouldn't have to pay for anything. On the other hand, there was no telling whether they'd give him another car after the accident.

There were forty miles on the clock. Anything more wouldn't be enough, and it wasn't worth it anyway. He'd skid, and that was it. He turned on the radio. He'd just caught the news, reporting deteriorating weather. It was expected to lead to several days of storms and then floods. "God, please don't let that flood of '97 happen again!" he thought, then began to pray.

Car lights reflected off his windshield. He felt stifling, so he turned on the air conditioning. He wanted to get home as quickly as possible. He hit the gas.

Police officers were standing on the road directing traffic. He slowed down. A heavy traffic jam had formed. He rolled down the window. Cold air rushed into the vehicle along with the rain. For a moment, he was cold, but then the stifling continued. Something was catching in his throat. He couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted to go home. He looked out the window and called out to one of the officers.

"Accident! The truck was going too fast. It skidded. There were cars coming in the opposite direction. No one survived," the young officer explained, and began directing traffic again.

Deranime drove on. He left the window open, but it was no use. Something was choking him. He looked to his left and froze. He noticed an overturned truck and three toddlers beside it. What remained was a shocking sight. The crushed and smashed cars now resembled nothing more than Coca-Cola cans.

Even though it was raining, blood was everywhere. Puddles of red liquid mingled with the mud and the falling rain. As if it were the cries of those who had been in the accident. Tears in which their own blood mingled with the pure heavenly water.

Ambulances stood on the side of the road, but unfortunately, they weren't needed. Everyone was dead. Corpses lay on the ground, one next to the other. Black plastic bags covered the faces of the dead, and with them their terror and screams...

Too much blood. He hadn't visited her! He wanted to light a cigarette. He reached into his jacket pocket, but he didn't find the package.

"What a nightmare!" he thought. He wanted to be home, take a bath, eat microwaved Chinese food, and sit comfortably in front of the TV. Drink a chilled beer and eat spicy chips. Constantly flipping channels. Watching one match, the next naked women. Go to bed late and lie in bed all next day until he got bored and hungry.

He hit the gas pedal. The engine roared louder, like a lion on the prowl.

After a while, the traffic jam cleared. There wasn't even that much traffic anymore. The weather had improved a bit, too. The fog was fading, and the headlights weren't as daunting. The accident was far behind him, and home wasn't far away. He pressed the pedal even harder.

Some rock music was playing on the radio. He was slowly starting to like it. He smiled to himself. He even started singing. The downpour was subsiding. He felt himself getting better. He was sure he'd make it home safe and sound. He hit the gas.

The clock read ninety.

A damned minibus had been dragging in front of him for some time. He intended to overtake it. He wanted to do it quickly, as quickly as possible. Home was within reach.

At the bend, an opportunity presented itself. He decided to overtake. He glanced in the mirror, activated his left turn signal, and pressed the pedal harder. "Home is just around the corner," he repeated.

Just then, a truck emerged from the other side. Its speed was even faster than his. A collision was now inevitable. He panicked and put his foot on the brake. Unfortunately, this made the situation worse. He skidded, the skid he'd been so careful about all along the way! First, he sideswiped the car he was overtaking. Then he swerved to the left and almost hit a pole. At the last second, he swerved again. He almost made it. Unfortunately, despite his agility, the truck still hit him.

It lasted a second, but it felt like an eternity. He had no idea what was happening. Everything spun and refused to stop. He couldn't control his arms, legs, or the rest of his body. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach, a throbbing in his chest, something warm trickling down his forehead. He heard someone scream, no, it was him screaming! Something was falling apart, sparking, and burning. He smelled smoke, the smell of gasoline. It was hot, he'd never been so hot in his life! Stuffy, impossible to breathe. He noticed fire, fire everywhere. He saw death before him. God, Satan, angels, devils. Fiery tongues, a heavenly, bright glow. He screamed. He knew he was dying. That he would die in this cage, that he would burn alive. He lost consciousness...

He had no idea when he'd woken up. How long had it all lasted? Where was he now? His eyes were closed, refusing to open them. He didn't even know if he still had eyes! But what did eyes matter to him? What mattered more was whether he was alive or already on the other side. He was afraid. Afraid of what he might see. That he would see himself in a terrible state. He could hear his heart beating, each beat echoing back. His breathing became faster and faster.

Finally, he decided to open his eyes.

Light. Bright, glaring light. He saw figures, but only their outlines. They were all behind the fog. They blurred into space. They were familiar silhouettes, people he knew. But his vision prevented him from recognizing them.

None of them spoke. They were all staring at Deranimer. He tried to turn his head to the side. He couldn't. Something had wrapped around his entire body. He couldn't move an arm, a leg, anything. Was he paralyzed? He was terrified, he wanted to get up and run. Run as far away as possible and leave it all behind. He felt pain, terrible pain. He was shaken and in shock.

"Deranime?" Suddenly he heard his name. "That voice? I know it from somewhere..." He tried to remember.

"Deranime, speak." The person continued. "Listen, you had an accident..." the figure paused for a moment. "You skidded. And..." He stopped there. His words were filled with terror and fear.

Deranime couldn't understand, didn't know what he meant. "I was driving home from the Agency calmly... An accident? Oh my God! An accident... a skid and that truck!"

"No!" Deranime exclaimed.

For a moment, no one spoke. There was complete silence. Only the thunder of the approaching storm could be heard. The rain pounding against the window made Deranime even more afraid and sad.

He couldn't believe it, this accident. It was impossible for him. Something that couldn't really happen. He hoped it was just a nightmare, a dream, and that he would wake up soon. He was trembling. No, he wasn't trembling anymore, he was shaking!

"Please leave the room immediately!" He heard another voice. "I told you to leave! Nurse, increase the dose."

He couldn't control it. It was stronger than him. The tremors, the shaking… He didn't know what was happening to him.

"Just a moment, just a moment, and I'll wake up!" He kept telling himself it was just a dream. That he would soon wake up after Friday night. He would take a shower, eat breakfast, go for a walk. He would live a normal life. But he finally realized that a dream couldn't be so realistic and macabre. Only life could be so terrible.

He was breathing rapidly, his heart pounding. Someone leaned over him, injecting him with something. Someone was saying something, but he couldn't understand a thing. He closed his eyes. He squeezed them shut as hard as he could.

After a moment, he felt a certain relaxation, his muscles no longer tense. He was tired, he wanted to sleep. He fell asleep…

A tapping on the window woke him. As if someone were hitting the glass with stones. Only after a moment did he realize it was still the damned rain. The rain of Death and the human cries. He no longer felt the pain as intensely, but he felt a bit numb. Probably from the medication he'd been given.

He opened his eyes.

At first, he thought he was in a hospital, and the same figures still stood before him. But unlike that "meeting," the room was busier. Someone was taking something, someone else was bringing it. Someone was connecting something, someone else was disconnecting it. It was full of machines, computers, some kind of wires. Could he be in an Agency lab? He thought for a moment.

"Deranime?" The same man who had spoken to him the last time.

"What?" Deranime replied in a barely audible voice, forcing him to lean over him.

"Deranime, do you remember what's been happening to you so far?

" "Yes." Deranime replied quite lucidly. The other man believed him.

"Do you remember that Agency experiment we worked on recently?"

Deranime remembered it well. He'd been working on it even before the accident, on that very day. Even though the whole experience seemed pointless and a waste of time to him, he had to supervise it.

This experiment was connected to dreams. He believed so. And if dreams are unreal and merely a figment of our imagination, then working on them makes no sense whatsoever. Even if they recreate someone else's dream in its entirety, they'll never understand it. Worse still, the "Dreamer"—the person dreaming during this experiment—might not survive it. Everything in the dream will be literally real to them. They might smell flowers, swim in the ocean, or worst of all, trip over a rock and crack their head. Besides that, the dreamer will be highly sensitive to everything. Even leaving an unlit, pitch-dark room outside, where the sun is shining, could cause shock. This would then lead to instant death in a dream, and clinical death in a waking state.

He saw no point in this experience. Others supposedly believed and were convinced that this was another dimension, not a dream. That through this "dimension" one could control something, but what? No one could explain this to him.

"Deranime?" The man woke him up as the other fell into a reverie.

"What?

" "Listen, you have to agree to participate in this experiment. You will be the 'Dreamer.'" At that moment, they both looked each other straight in the eye. The other was quite serious. Deranime started laughing. Everyone was stunned. After a moment, Deranime exclaimed,

"What are you crazy? I'll never go in there. I don't want to kill myself!"

The man leaned over him calmly. He whispered in his ear,

"You're already dead! Understand this." He took a deep breath. "You'll never move an arm or leg again. You'll be constantly dosed with chemicals!"

The man leaned even closer to Deranimer. And spoke into his ear again,

"There's no telling if you'll survive this night. The doctors are giving you almost no chance." Deranime listened, listened carefully. Something inside him stirred, as if he understood what the man meant. The man continued:

"If you enter that cursed dimension as soon as possible, you'll survive. You'll die here, and there you'll live a sweet life. You'll exist in that other world! You'll be able to move your arms, run! Do you understand?

" "This is just a dream? Just a damn dream!" "

For you, it's a dream, and for me and the entire Agency, it's another dimension and a chance to solve the mystery of this experiment. Understand, you have a chance!"

The man didn't have to wait long for an answer. Deranime said quickly and confidently.

"Yes!"

Deranime noticed the smile on his friend's face. After a moment, he added,

"When can we start?

" "Everything's ready.

" "So, hook me up to those cables."

Several men entered the room. They taped the cables to Deranimer's body, then connected them to computers. And then told him to simply fall asleep...

The rain continued to fall. There was no sign of it calming down anytime soon.