Novels2Search

Chapter 9

Ollie made his way back like someone marching to their own execution.

Leaving the empty crossing behind, he headed toward the place where he knew he would find the Dream Merchant. After a few steps, he spotted the shadowy figure with its white porcelain mask at the end of the stone path, below the cliff where stood the Black House.

"You deceived me," Ollie spoke without anger or fear, or even disappointment, in his tired voice, his tone was one of resignation and clarity. "There is no good dream, is there?"

The white porcelain mask rose towards the Black House, and then lowered to contemplate the Young Pig. "Not all doors have been opened."

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"I'm not an idiot," Ollie stated, narrowing his eyes and hardening his features into an expression of determination. "I already know what awaits me there."

"You do?" The porcelain mask tilted. "What waits for you, then?"

"Disappointment," Ollie stared at the cliff. "Disappointment and death."

The Merchant nodded. "Why would you dream of death?"

Ollie frowned his snout. "I don't."

“You will only find your dreams here.”

“That is a lie.”

“Perhaps, but who lie is it?”

"You created this place, you put these nightmares here to deceive me.”

“you build each house, each brick,” The porcelain mask waved. "With your desires and wantings, with the resentments of your past and the longings of your future.”

“They are lies.”

"The truths you bury are the lies you harvest"

"Why would I do that?" Ollie protested. "What do I gain by lying to myself?"

“One more day.” The ethereal voice said in a eco. “One more day, to pretend that tomorrow will never come."

"I will never enter that house," Ollie shook his snout. "Never."

"Then your path lays at your back, a return to one of the houses you refused."

Ollie stared back, at the three houses, any of them would be preferable to the Black House. Yet, not for a moment did he consider them, for him they were empty houses now.

"No," he stared at the Merchant seriously. "I want my good dream."

"But you said that you had none?"

"No, I have to have something good.," Ollie spoke with determination. "Nothing make sense if I don't find something worth keeping."

The Dream Merchant gave a small laugh, a short mechanical laugh devoid of life.

"What's so funny?" Ollie asked suspiciously.

"The inevitability," The dark void of the mask's eyes glowed in a pale yellow. "The inevitability in which what you seek, will guide you to the place you don't want to be.”

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Ollie stared at the house high on the precipice. He would not climb; if he had the power, he would knock the house into the abyss.

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to climb those stairs."

"If none of your dreams are to your liking," The Dream Merchant extended his thin hand towards the giant snail. "There is always the way back to your room."

Ollie stared at the snail; its ordinary door still open, revealing the interior where a majestic candy store was hidden, where another door would take him back to his life.

"No," The word came out strong and fast from the lips of his snout. "That's not what I want."

"I don't know what you want, Ollie" The porcelain mask gave a slow wave. "I only know all the things you refuse." The Merchant gestured to the small island of finite options. "Is the secret to find what you want, the denial of everything else?”

"You are trying to deceive me." Ollie's voice came out in a cold tremor. "You want me to enter the Black House, even knowing that if I do, I will never return."

“It matters not, what I have to say.”

“Why not?”

"You have already chosen the Black House."

"No," Ollie almost laughed. "Never."

The Dream Merchant pointed a long, skeletal finger at the Young Pig's chest. "Your heart is divided. You believe your suffering is an illusion, a chapter in a beautiful story destined for a happy ending." He gestured towards the small house on the precipice. "Yet, you also believe the worst is yet to come, that happiness is an illusion, and your nightmare awaits in the tragedy of existing." Opening his empty fists, he continued, "both voices will lead to the same place, both voices will guide you to Black House."

"No," Ollie took a step back, staring in terror at the snail and the Black House. "I want another house, another dream."

The porcelain mask waved.

"Then I'll leave," Ollie lowered his ears. "Then I give up on this place."

"If you can, you should."

Ollie looked at the snail, imagined himself crossing the distance, returning to the candy store, waking up back to his life, as if nothing had happened here, as if everything was just a miserable and hallucinatory bad dream.

"It doesn't make a difference, does it?" He sighted. "This world is no different from mine, it looks like it is something else, but I know the feelings of each house, I know the words of each host, I carry them all within me, even if I leave here, nothing will change in my world, not while nothing changes in this one."

"The flowers of pain that populates the garden of your world," The porcelain mask nodded. "Are planted from the seeds that grow in this Shadow Biosphere."

"I don't have the courage, not to keep going, neither to return."

"Yes you have and yes you will."

"You don't know what I believe."

"It doesn't matter what you believe," The voice spoke indifferently. "If you believe in your good dream, this is the last house," He brought his porcelain mask closer. "But if you no longer believe in your good dream, if you have nothing to live for, that will take to the same door."

"That makes no sense at all."

"What makes no sense is carrying two ideas and believe in neither."

"That's it, then?" Ollie gave a laugh of hurt. "I deserve this place?"

"Some believe that all suffering is a moral failure."

How about the suffering of the innocent?

Ollie didn't want to continue this conversation anymore, not when he knew words would not change his situation. Not when he had an impossible choice to make.

He couldn't believe it, he knew that something terrible awaited him in the Black House, that if he were stupid enough to climb, that he would never return.

"Guess I have no choice, right?" He agave a softly smirk. "If I have a good dream, is there."

The Dream Merchant gave a slow nod.

With a sigh, Ollie turned his back to him.

"Thanks for nothing," He spoke as a farewell.

This was the last house, if a good dream existed, there it would have to be found.

This was the last house, there was no good dream, he had nothing to lose.

So he climbed the steep steps of the winding and narrow hill.

In his chest, a storm beat in anticipation of an unimaginable and unbearable terror.

But in his mind, a silent voice told him the opposite.

That perhaps it would be in the darkness that he would see his light.

With the power of that idea, Ollie made his way to the Black House.

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