Nightmare

The dream begins the same way again. But this time, it’s worse. I don’t know how, but it feels… deeper. Darker. Like the walls are closing in. I’ve been here, and I already know what’s coming—the endless, twisted paths, the frantic people, the creeping sense of no escape.

But I don’t want to believe it. Not yet.

The air is thick, stale, like it’s been trapped underground for too long. No breeze, no sky—just the heavy weight of something solid overhead, like I’m in the belly of a cave. The walls press in, close and damp, slick with condensation that drips down plastic tubes and rusted metal bars. It smells faintly of wet rubber, like a playground after the rain. But here, the smell never fades

I start walking, my heart thudding harder with each step. The ground under my feet is uneven, soft in some places and hard in others, like the padding under swings and slides, worn thin in places. It doesn’t feel right. Nothing here does.

My breath catches as I turn a corner. The path is narrow, so tight I have to angle my shoulders just to squeeze through. I know where this leads. Deep down, I know. But the panic is building in my chest, that wild need to run, to fight, to do anything but walk this maze again.

I push forward, forcing myself through the tight corridors. Around me, I hear them—others. Running. Breathing fast, their footsteps a rapid drumbeat on the rubbery ground. Shadows flicker past, darting in and out of the narrow tunnels. Some of them look back, wide-eyed, faces pale and strained, but they don’t stop. They never stop.

Neither can I.

I don’t know why I keep moving. Maybe I’m hoping that this time, there’ll be an exit. A way out. Something different.

But as I come to a stream running through the middle of the path, I freeze. The water gurgles faintly, winding through the labyrinth, its surface catching the dim light from the flickering bulbs overhead. I’ve seen this before.

There’s someone in the water.

A man, sliding slowly along the stream, as if he’s been caught in its gentle current. His body drifts toward me, eyes shut, his face slack and pale. Something about him is wrong, though. His eyes… they’re sealed. Not closed—grown over with skin, smooth and taut where his eyelids should be.

My breath quickens. “Hey! Are you alright?”

He doesn’t respond at first. He just floats, his body moving lazily with the flow of the water. Then, his mouth moves, a low murmur escaping his cracked lips.

“Took something… to zone out… can’t… can’t escape.”

His voice is weak, distant, like he’s been trapped in this dream far longer than I have. Floating endlessly, blind, oblivious, just waiting for the next loop. My stomach twists at the thought.

I step back, away from the stream, away from the man. The walls seem to close in tighter, the paths narrowing with each turn. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking, but the dread builds with every step. It’s the same. It’s all the same. No matter where I go, no matter which path I choose, it always leads back to the start. Back to the beginning.

The walls of the labyrinth loom overhead, the cave-like structure trapping me in its endless maze. My heart is pounding now, and I feel it—the panic rising like bile in my throat.

I turn again, but the tunnel ahead is darker, more confined. I hesitate, then push forward, the urge to escape driving me faster, my breaths shallow and quick. But with each step, the realization sinks in deeper. There’s no end. The labyrinth isn’t something I can outrun.

I stop. There’s no use. I lean against the cold, slick wall, letting my eyes drift shut. The nightmare’s grip tightens around me, suffocating.

When I wake up, I’m back in my room. My heart is still racing, my skin slick with sweat. I blink, the faint light of the bedside clock coming into focus.

3:30 a.m.

I exhale slowly, but the panic doesn’t fade. I know one thing for sure—I’m not going back to sleep tonight.

The next day at school, I’m sitting at my desk, head resting on my hand, barely awake. My thoughts keep drifting back to the labyrinth. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. Why am I dreaming of that place? What does it mean?

I let out a quiet sigh, my eyes unfocused on the whiteboard at the front of the room. My brain feels foggy, like I’m stuck halfway between the dream and the waking world.

“Dude, you look wrecked,” a familiar voice says. I glance up to see my friend Kyle dropping his backpack onto the floor beside me. He slides into the seat, eyebrow raised. “What’s up? You pull an all-nighter or something?”

I shake my head, rubbing my eyes. “Not exactly. Just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmare?” he asks, leaning in like he’s about to hear a ghost story.

“Yeah. Sort of.” I hesitate for a second, then spill it out. “It’s like… there’s this labyrinth. It’s dark, claustrophobic, and you can never get out. You’re stuck in there, just walking in circles. The walls are all made of playground stuff, but there’s water and streams, and… I don’t know, man. It feels so real. It’s like being trapped, and no matter what, it’s always the same.”

Kyle nods slowly, but there’s no sympathy in his eyes. Instead, a grin spreads across his face. “That’s funny. Your dream sounds exactly like the demon’s lair in that game I was playing last night— Hellblade Adventures. You ever heard of it? It’s like Grand Theft Auto meets D&D. Open world, you can do whatever you want. But there’s this demon’s lair that’s a total maze. I love that part because there’s always loot hidden everywhere.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah! You wander around this creepy, never-ending maze with dark tunnels and traps. It’s intense, but the loot makes it worth it. Kind of sounds like your dream—except, you know, in the game, there’s treasure.”

Before I can respond, another friend, Jake, walks up and throws himself into the conversation, practically bouncing with excitement. “Dude, I can’t wait for the full haptic VR version of that game! You heard about it, right? You can actually be in the demon’s lair, feel everything, explore it like you’re really there. No consequences, man. You can go anywhere, do anything. It’s going to be epic.”

Kyle’s eyes light up. “Oh man, that’s gonna be crazy. Imagine being able to punch through walls or run from the demon in real life—except, you know, without dying for real.”

They start riffing on what they’d do in the game, their voices blending into the background as my thoughts drift again. I think about my nightmare, about the endless wandering and the sense of being stuck in that maze. And suddenly, it clicks.

They’re talking about how amazing it is to explore a virtual world with no consequences, where you can lose yourself and experience everything as if it’s real. But that’s exactly what my nightmare is. It’s too real. I feel every second of it, every turn, every dead end—and it’s suffocating. Maybe it’s not a nightmare after all. Maybe it’s just… another version of what they’re so excited about. An experience without consequence.

But in my dream, I get the one thing they don’t: the fear. The feeling of being trapped, like the world isn’t just a game—it’s a prison. I shudder at the thought, but at the same time, there’s a strange thrill creeping in. The thought of diving back into that labyrinth, knowing it’s just a dream… maybe it could be different tonight.

That night, as I crawl into bed, my heart beats a little faster. This time, I’m not dreading sleep. I’m excited. Ready to explore.