Edge Of A Dream

Posted by David Kim on

It began with a sensation that something was wrong. Not terrifyingly wrong, but subtly—like the faint buzz of a fluorescent light that only became noticeable once everything else was silent. For Thomas, this feeling had lingered for months, a whisper of dissonance that he couldn't shake. He lived an unremarkable life, working as a data analyst in a beige cubicle by day and spending his nights tinkering with old radios in his small, cluttered apartment. Yet, beneath the mundanity, he felt like a cog misplaced in a machine he didn't understand.

The tipping point came on an ordinary Tuesday. Thomas had been walking home after a particularly long day at work, the streets bathed in the amber glow of streetlights. The city was alive with its usual symphony—honking cars, snippets of conversations, and the occasional distant siren. As he turned a corner, he noticed a figure standing perfectly still on the opposite side of the street.

The man wore a black suit and a hat pulled low over his face. He seemed to be staring directly at Thomas, though his face was obscured by shadows. A shiver ran down Thomas's spine, but he shook it off and continued walking. When he glanced back, the man was gone.

That night, Thomas dreamed vividly. He was walking through a dense forest, the trees towering above him like ancient sentinels. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, and the only sound was the crunch of leaves beneath his feet. As he ventured deeper, the trees began to thin, and he found himself standing at the edge of a vast, white void. It wasn’t just empty; it was nothingness, a complete absence of space, time, and matter. It felt like staring at the edge of existence.

He awoke drenched in sweat, the image of the void seared into his mind. He couldn't explain it, but he felt compelled to find it—the edge of reality. It was as if the dream had planted a seed of obsession that grew with each passing day. He began researching phenomena related to his dream: reports of glitches in reality, stories of people who claimed to have seen beyond the veil of existence. Most of it was dismissed as conspiracy theories or hallucinations, but Thomas couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more.

His search led him to an obscure online forum where users shared tales of strange occurrences. One thread in particular caught his attention: "The Boundary of All Things." The posts were cryptic, filled with fragmented accounts of people encountering places where reality seemed to fray. Coordinates were shared, often leading to remote, desolate locations. One user, “NullObserver,” had posted a set of coordinates accompanied by the message: “This is where I saw it. The edge. Proceed with caution.”

Thomas hesitated for days before deciding to investigate. The coordinates pointed to a spot deep in the wilderness, several hours’ drive from the city. He packed a bag with essentials—water, snacks, a flashlight, a notebook, and his old radio. He wasn’t sure why he included the radio; it just felt right.

The journey took him far from the familiar confines of urban life. The asphalt gave way to gravel, then to dirt, and finally to a narrow, overgrown trail that forced him to abandon his car and proceed on foot. The forest was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of birds and rustling leaves conspicuously absent. The deeper he went, the more the world around him seemed… off. Colors appeared slightly desaturated, and the air felt heavier, as though it were pressing down on him.

After hours of trekking, he reached a clearing. At its center was a peculiar structure: a tall, monolithic slab of obsidian-like material, smooth and featureless. It stood at least ten feet high, and its surface seemed to shimmer faintly, as if it were alive. Thomas approached cautiously, his heart pounding. The air around the slab buzzed with an almost imperceptible frequency, making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

He placed a hand on the surface, and the world shifted.

It was as if he had been yanked out of his body and hurled through a kaleidoscope of light and sound. When the chaos subsided, he found himself standing at the edge of the void from his dream. The forest was gone, replaced by a stark boundary where reality ended and nothingness began. The void stretched infinitely in all directions, its presence both terrifying and mesmerizing.

A voice broke the silence. “You weren’t supposed to find this place.”

Thomas spun around to see the man in the black suit standing a few feet away. His face was still obscured, but his voice was calm, almost soothing.

“What is this?” Thomas demanded. “What’s beyond the edge?”

The man tilted his head slightly. “Beyond the edge? There is no beyond. This is the end. The construct of reality, the framework that holds everything together. You’ve stumbled upon the seam.”

Thomas’s mind raced. “Why? Why does this exist?”

“Why does a painting have a canvas?” the man replied. “Reality needs boundaries. Without them, there’s no structure, no form. You’ve found the edge of the canvas, but you cannot step off it. To do so would unravel everything.”

Thomas took a step closer to the void, his curiosity overpowering his fear. “What happens if I go in?”

The man’s tone grew stern. “I wouldn’t advise it. The human mind isn’t equipped to comprehend what lies beyond. It’s not a place, but an absence of all things.”

But Thomas couldn’t stop himself. He reached out a hand, inching closer to the void. The air grew colder, and his vision began to blur. The man in the suit didn’t move to stop him, but his voice rang out one final time.

“If you cross that boundary, you won’t find answers. Only oblivion.”

Thomas hesitated, his hand hovering at the precipice. He thought of his life—the monotony, the unanswered questions, the nagging sense that something was missing. Was it worth the risk? Did he really want to know what lay beyond?

In the end, curiosity won.

As his fingers breached the void, reality shattered like glass. For a brief, agonizing moment, he glimpsed something incomprehensible—a swirling maelstrom of colors and shapes that defied logic, a cacophony of sounds that made his mind scream. And then, there was nothing.

When Thomas awoke, he was lying in the clearing, the monolith gone. The forest was alive with the sounds of nature, the colors vibrant once more. He felt different, though he couldn’t explain how. His notebook was filled with incomprehensible symbols, and his radio emitted a constant, soft hum. He had no memory of what he’d seen or experienced, only a lingering sense that he’d brushed against something far greater than himself.

As he made his way back to his car, Thomas realized the buzzing sensation that had haunted him for months was gone. He no longer felt out of place in the world. Instead, he felt a quiet contentment, as though he’d found a piece of the puzzle he hadn’t known was missing.

Yet, deep down, he knew he’d never truly forget the edge of reality—or the void that lay beyond.

 

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