The City of Dreams

The damp stone beneath his feet, stinging painfully as he ran. His breath could be seen in the freezing air, adrenaline forcing him forward. He couldn’t stop there, not when he was so close! The steady beating of his racing heart was the only thing he could hear. Staggering past a steam-spitting valve, he didn’t know how much further his legs would take him. Even now his lungs screamed in protest, begging for the sweet release of rest. But he didn’t stop, no, he couldn’t stop. He slammed into the concrete trees around him, their rectangular faces sneering at him as he ran by. He ached, every part of him wanted to give up, yet he refused. The city around him loomed over him as he continued, stumbling as he used a wall to support him in his suffering. His chest heaved, burning like a molten pebble slowly descending through his core. Mud and grime covered his figure as he continued his escape. His body finally gave out, betraying his heart, as his legs pushed one last time before falling still. The boy lurched forward, a sharp pain in his foot as he felt something amiss. He didn’t realize what had happened until he heard the smack of his impact against the coldness of the concrete beneath him. It echoed like the sound of an explosion, alerting them to his location. He had fallen. 

As he lay there, eyes wide and gasping for air, unable to even move his finger, the sounds of them drew closer. It was like a thick mist in his brain, his body was revolting against him, telling him to stop. But he slowly got back up, ripping through the thick fog and starting to run yet again. He could hear his words still, ringing like a persistent echo in the back of his mind, commanding him to move on. Step by step, muscles screaming in agony, mind filled with the sound of static, he fled. How had it come to this?

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     Cold concrete towers and tinted glass, a forest of bleak grey covered by a blanket of equally grey snow. Busy people lined the streets, sleek and metallic vehicles zooming by, all of them headed towards a single destination: The Dome. Gleaming black glass, and golden spires, The Dome was at the center of their city, and their greatest pride. It was the thing that brought tourists, and visitors, the attraction and love of all. This was very true, especially on a day like this one. 

     Every year there was a great festival, one to celebrate the next harvest. On this day, the smog-filled skies open up to reveal the great blue expanse above the grey city, shedding the warm light of the sun upon millions of pale faces below. The bustling streets would become still, as the people would flood to the great dome at the center of their land. The dome, oh the terrible dome, it would light up with an eerie hiss, steam, and pumps waking up from their yearlong slumber. They would groan and creak, their calls screaming across the city as the people gathered around it. Whispers would fill the air as more flooded the area. 

     The skies would be filled with off-world visitors, all arriving to take part in the festivities that came with the biannual harvest. From noble class Rx41s to simple sky ferries, all were coming to see the lighting of The Dome. A thin, wavering silence as all eyes locked upon the great structure, watching it slowly come to life, until finally, with the roar of a lion, it would illuminate a brilliant white, and the festivities would begin. The silence would give way to joyous celebrations, dancing and singing, and the selling of goods—it was a merchant’s dream. 

     The majestic revels took place deep into the night only pausing when it was time for the harvest to begin. Fanfare and trumpets screamed, and a pristine white carpet was rolled out, stretching for miles across every street. And then, one by one, the children came. Dressed in pure white clothing, they were brought down the carpet to the cheers and smiles of the people around them. Golden and white gleaming in the light, they walked in unison, like ants returning to their hill. 

     He was one of them. His straight brown hair combed neatly behind one ear, his big grey eyes taking in the world around him in awe. As he followed the girl with honey-colored hair in front of him, he fiddled with one of the shiny new buttons on his snowy white dress shirt. They were chosen for this since they had been born, or so he had been told. They were the ones to create the next supply of Flux that would power and supply the city for the next two years, an honor bestowed only upon a chosen few families each harvest. Looking up at the keeper beside him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of fear. The keeper looked down out of the corner of their eye, the black uniform with silver lining a stark contrast to the boy’s own. 

     The boy, afraid of being caught staring, looked away quickly, almost bumping into the girl with honey-colored hair. They had finally stopped, and after a mile of walking, they had finally arrived at their final destination: The Dome. He craned his neck, trying to see over the shoulders of the other children in front of him, but it was all in vain, their height combined with the brilliant light of The Dome made it impossible for him to see anything. 

     He looked down at the people in the pits around him, citizens and non-citizens alike, it was like he and the others were gods. One would believe it too based on how some bystanders were looking in complete awe. He scanned the crowd quickly, looking for a certain woman in the masses. Before he had finished, he heard his name be called. Startled, he looked back up, the girl with honey-colored hair was gone, already in The Dome, and he was next.

     “Ben Adler,” A mechanical voice called again. 

     He, Ben, hesitated, something seemed off about The Dome now that he was actually in front of it. 

….run…far

     He jerked his head to his right, where the whisper had come from. But no one was there, only another keeper in their black and silver uniforms. Was it just a noise? Had someone told him to run? 

     But, before he could wonder any longer, the keeper to his left pushed him towards the dome. Ben stumbled slightly, not expecting the physical force to be used. He looked back at the keeper, who, in response, did nothing but stare blankly ahead. Hesitantly, Ben stepped forwards, and into the great structure that he would soon call home.

     Forever. 

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     The dome was surprisingly, normal, for a great building that his entire world revolved around. It was silent, the only sound he could hear was the eerie hissing of hydraulic presses and the doors slamming behind him. Looking around, he was startled by the sound of weeping to his left. Ben tried to ignore the killjoy, but soon after hours of the same pitiful wails, he couldn’t take it anymore. Spinning angrily to the source of his annoyance, he was surprised to see the girl with honey-colored hair. She was on the ground, crying an impressive amount of tears. Great waterfalls of salty tears seemed to flow freely from her eyes, dripping down her chin and onto her pristine white dress. Ben was thoroughly disgusted. They were here to help with the harvest, an honor that everyone longed to be part of, and yet, she was here weeping? What an idiot. 

     He turned away with a sniff, deliberately choosing the furthest seat from the girl. As he waited for the keepers to show them to their rooms, he could feel the sharp pricks of someone’s gaze upon him. He turned to face them, scowling. 

     “What are you staring at?” he snapped peevishly.

     The unwanted watcher, a girl of his age, simply continued to stare. She had straight black hair, that had been neatly pinned for this occasion, and a fair tone of skin. Most probably of Asian descent. 

     “Are you listening to me?” Ben asked again, his irritation only growing.

     “Perhaps I am, perhaps I am not, what’s it to you?” The girl finally said, her large eyes a bit unsettling. 

     “Stop staring at me,” Ben hissed angrily. But then he paused, and proceeded to ask rather snobbishly,  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”

     “Maybe she didn’t, maybe she did, you’ll never know.” 

     To this response, Ben couldn’t help, but be at a loss for words. Never, NEVER in his life had he met someone so… disagreeable. But, before he could send a pointed remark to the girl, the keepers had arrived. 

     One by one, they all walked down the white halls, and one by one, they all stepped into their rooms. 

     If Ben had one word to describe his life within the dome, it would be: boring. Plain. Disappointingly ordinary. It was as if he had been shut in an empty room and told to read a dictionary for a year. Sighing, he sprawled onto the soft sheets of the bed provided, all the while mentally cursing that girl for giving him such a difficult evening. 

      As he lay there, the lights dimmed and a voice spoke over the intercom, ordering all of them to ‘go to sleep’. Ben, didn’t feel like it. He couldn’t sleep in such an unnerving place, it was as if an invisible spectator had been following him this entire time, preventing him from truly relaxing.

     Hours passed in the darkness of night, and he still did not sleep. What would it be like, to help with the harvest? Would it be boring? Fun? How long would it be until he could finally return home? All these questions, yet not a single answer. He rolled over with a groan of irritation, he wouldn’t be much help come the following morning if he failed to sleep. 

Run….run away little boy….run run run….

     Ben’s eyes immediately shot back open, there it was again! The whisper! He sat up quickly, ears straining for any other sounds. But just like last time, the whisper was gone, and he heard nothing except for silence. 

     He refused to sleep for the rest of the night.

     The following morning came quicker than he would have preferred, but who was he to decide when the sun came up? He stepped out of his room, following the stream of other children to the washrooms. It was time for the first harvest.

     His heart began to pound, his stomach seemed to fly away, it was finally time. But was he ready? 

     The keepers escorted him and the other children into an empty room, sitting them down on the floor, before leaving with a tall boy. Ben quickly realized that this, this harvest, would be a very dull affair. Letting out yet another sigh, he watched the other children buzz with excitement. Why did they enjoy talking so much?

     His musing was interrupted by someone sitting beside him, the Asian girl. 

     “You again? What do you want?” Ben grumbled, scootching away.

     “Not much,” the girl replied with a shrug. She pointed over to the girl with honey-colored hair and said,

     “You see her? The girl with the honey-colored hair?”

     Ben looked over quickly.

     “I do, what about her? All she’s done is cry since we’ve gotten here.”

     “Don’t you want to know why?”

     Ben scoffed, “not particularly. No.”

     “Well, it's because we’re all never going back home,” the girl said, lowering her volume significantly.

     “What? Says who? You’re lying aren’t you,” Ben yelled angrily,

      “Shut up! Stop being so loud you overgrown baboon! Do you want them to take us away?” she hissed angrily, covering his mouth with her hand.

     Ben pushed her hand away, “Them? Who is them?”

     “The creators. Those who invented Flux of course,” the girl said, as if this was an obvious fact to everyone.

     Ben stayed silent, what was this about? He needed to know more.

     “I’ll tell you more later, that is, IF the two of us survive past this night.” the girl whispered in his ear.

     “Deal.”

     “By the way, what is your name?” she asked, turning back to him.

     “Ben. Yours?” 

     “Ellis,” she said with a grin.

     Ben watched her run over to a group of girls, what an odd girl.     

     The evening quickly came, and the keepers led them to their rooms again. Ben noticed, that the tall boy was not with them. He shivered slightly, wondering if Ellis had, indeed, been speaking the truth. 

     His room was not a wanted sight, the novelty had long worn off and he was rather sick of it. But, before he could sit down on the bed, he noticed an odd protrusion from beneath the frame. Looking around for any hidden cameras, Ben crouched down and peered beneath his bed. There, smack dab beneath it, was a trapdoor. Curiously, he lifted it, cringing when it creaked like an old lady’s joints. Looks like he’d have to find oil first before searching any further. Leaving the trapdoor alone, he quickly fell asleep, the chaos of the day finally taking its toll on his body. 

     Morning came, once again, and to be frank, Ben was not happy about it. But, pushing away his irritation with another sigh, he exited his room, and once more, followed the other children to the washroom. 

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

     During the harvest time, he and Ellis once more sat together in the far corner of the room. Whispering together, secrets, and stories. 

     “Ben, do you have a dream?” Ellis asked him, on the fifth day. 

     “Dream? Not really,” he said mindlessly, chewing on his stale toast.

     “Well, I do. I want to see a flower,” she said boldly, her face lighting up as she said so.     

     Ben only stared in pure confusion. Ellis looked back at him, her broad grin quickly turning into a look of pure exhasperation.

     “What now? I know that face, it means that you either are constipated or have an unwanted opinion,” Ellis growled.

     “No, it's not that, it is just… well, your dream is to see a flower? Of all things?”

      Ellis flipped her hair over a shoulder tersely,

     “It is, and I’m going to keep that dream until I find a flower.”

     “Keep it? It isn’t like you’re going to lose a dream,” Ben stated, sometimes he didn’t understand her.

     Ellis stared at him, judgment written all over her face.

     "What?" Ben growled, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read her mind.

     Suddenly, the look on her face faded just as quickly as it had come.

     “Ah, I forgot that you don’t know,” she shouted, causing two keepers to look at them oddly.

     “Hush!” Ben snapped at her. After all of her shushing, this was rather hypocritical. 

     “Sorry,” she lowered her voice, “ as I was saying prior, that's why we have to escape. All the other kids who have ‘helped’ with this harvest, haven’t come back for a reason Ben. When they take you in there, they practically kill you. They attach you to a terrible machine, and suck out all of your dreams and ambitions, all of that innocence and longing, gone. It all becomes Flux in the end. And then they toss you to the side, dead or alive, nothing but a husk of what you used to be.”

     “Are you joking?” Ben whispered, quickly looking around to make sure no one was listening in.

     Ellis shook her head gravely, “I wish I was.”

     “How do you know for sure?” Ben questioned, his heart catching in his throat. 

     Ellis was silent, only looking down at her gold and white shoes.

     “Ellis! Answer me! How. Do you. Know. FOR SURE?” he demanded again, shaking her angrily.

     She seemed a bit conflicted.

     "This is why I don't trust you. You claim all of these terrible things, yet you have NO proof that they actually happen." Ben spat, his heart feeling a bit twisted.

     " I bet that outside of here you have no one who really likes you. After all, all you do is come up with these... these, conspiracy theories that are obviously not true" He started to laugh at her, "Your parents obviously didn't raise a very smart girl!"

     “SHUT up!” she finally shouted, ripping his hands off of her.

      He only sneered in response

     " What do YOU know about anything? All you do it stick your nose up in the air and act like you own the world! And I'm trying to HELP you!" Ellis screeched, her face turning purple from the rage.

     Ben was silent for a long time. The white walls no longer seemed so pristine and pure, suddenly, they felt darker. A prison, growing tighter around him, that meant, that everything Ellis had told him, was true.

     “Oh,” was all he could utter.

     “Yeah, believe me now?”

     “...yes.”

*** 

     That night, Ben was unable to rest. He had to escape here, he didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to lose himself to a machine. He had to find a way to escape this place. Soon enough, he drifted into a fitful sleep, full of nightmares and all of those dark things.

     The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the dining hall. Ben sat there, his mind still heavy with the weight of Ellis' revelation from the night before. He picked at his breakfast, barely tasting it as his thoughts raced. The reality of their situation settled in like a heavy fog, suffocating and oppressive.

     On the other hand, Ellis seemed completely unaffected by their circumstances' gravity. She sat beside him, a picture of determination, spreading butter on her toast as if she were planning a picnic instead of a daring escape from a place that stole children's dreams.

     “We’re doing it today,” she declared, her voice confident and resolute.

     Ben nearly choked on his juice. “Pardon?” he spluttered, eyes wide with surprise.

     “We’re escaping,” Ellis repeated, her tone unwavering, “and then we’re going to have the grandest adventure ever!”

     Her words hung in the air, daring Ben to doubt her resolve. But as he looked into her eyes, he saw something fierce and unyielding, a fire burning bright within her that he couldn't possibly ignore. 

     He groaned in irritation, yet he couldn’t help but smile.

     “Fine, lets do it.”

     “Tonight?”

     “Tonight.”

***

     The night was cold and long, but Ben was wide awake, waiting for Ellis to arrive and begin their great escape. He got off of his bed for a while, walking around to waste some time.

     As he did so, he remembered the trapdoor. He never did see what was underneath it. Slowly, he got on his knees, reaching under to take hold of the rusted handle. The trapdoor, splintered with age, groaned in protest its corroded hinges barely holding on. Ben winced slightly but continued to open it, curiosity overcoming caution.

      Suddenly, the hinges gave out, causing him to fall, with the door in hand.

     He stumbled backward dropping the door with a loud crash.

     But he didn’t care, no, to hell with the keepers, if they came, they came. All he wanted, was to be as far away from the trapdoor as possible. He couldn’t breathe, trembling, he collapsed against the far wall, desperately trying not to scream. Wanting to tear his gaze away from the horrid sight, yet unable to do so. He was completely paralyzed. He had to get out. He needed to get out of The Dome.

     Ben stayed there for at least an hour, just staring at the mangled thing beneath the trapdoor. Staring in horror at the empty eyes that stared back at him, lifeless. The stench already taking over his room, and he tried not to gag. The sight was truly grisly, but he was not surprised, he knew all along deep within, that the keepers were evil. This was only confirmation of his thoughts.

     The mutilated form, flesh ripped in chunks to reveal bone, bruises, and dark splotches of gathering blood. One arm was missing, the other bent in a way that could only be described as unnatural. But the worst part was the face. That face, contorted into a terrible expression of pure terror. Pain. 

     The way it would be twisted in such abject fear, Ben could only imagine what had gone through their mind before they were killed so brutally. 

     He finally closed his eyes, unable to look any longer at the corpse.

Run… run away… run far away and don’t look back… 

     The whispers had returned. He should have listened before,

     but now, it was far too late. 

     Ellis, as he could see clearly, would not be coming tonight. Or the night after this one. No, Ellis, would not be coming back. Ever. 

     For it was her body, that lay there, looking up at him.

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     Ben continued to run from The Dome. He would not allow them to take him and destroy him. He would not fail her, not after what they had done. He would complete Ellis’ dream for her, even if he died trying. He owed her that much.

     After all, how hard could it be to find a single flower?

      The answer to that was, unfortunately: nigh impossible. For some absurd reason, he could not find a single flower in the great city of theirs. Every single merchant either didn’t know what a flower was (somehow) or, didn’t have one. 

      His uncomfortable dress shoes were quickly discarded in a nearby pile of rubbish. He would rather avoid gaining blisters on his heels.

     Looking up at the darkening sky on the fifth day, Ben stood at the pinnacle of a skyscraper. He could still see the brilliant white light of The Dome in the distance, a beacon that seemed to call him back. 

      But he would never return, not after Ellis. Now he knew, this world was no land of dreams. It was a land built off of the bodies of children. 

      Setting his jaw, Ben tore his eyes away from that murderous building. He had a mission to fulfill, and no one would stop him. That, he would make sure of.

      Running for so many days had taken a toll on his weary limbs. Children were not built for this kind of labor, constant and unforgiving. Ben sighed, and leaped down to the fire escape, careful to not cut himself on the corroded metal.

     As he descended the fire escape, every rung groaned under his weight, protesting the burden after, likely, decades of disuse. His muscles screamed in protest, aching with every movement. He couldn't afford to rest, not now, not when he was so close to uncovering the truth.

     The streets below were a labyrinth of shadows, the only illumination coming from the sporadic flicker of broken streetlights. Ben darted between alleyways, his breath ragged in his throat. Every corner he turned, he half-expected to see the glint of steel from the Keeper's masks, their silent figures blending seamlessly with the darkness.

     His heart hammered against his ribs as he stumbled over debris littering the ground. The memory of Ellis flashed in his mind, igniting a fierce determination within him. He couldn't let their sacrifices be in vain. He had to expose the horrors hidden beneath the facade of The Dome.

     With a resolve as hard as steel, Ben slipped through the cracks of society unnoticed. Days melded into nights as he was forced to survive on the scraps of a world that had no care for his pain. He mastered the art of stealth, moving soundlessly through the shadows, hoping the keepers would not find him. Seasons changed, but Ben remained determined, his spirit unbroken despite the constant threat of discovery. In the solitude of darkness, he took great comfort, at times, it was as if Ellis was there with him. Her eyes would be excited and thirsty to take in every great thing around her. 

     But, she was not. He was alone.

     In the fading light of a dreary evening, Ben shuffled through a familiar alley, his makeshift shelter in this harsh world. He wondered if he could ever make Ellis's dream a reality amidst the bleakness around him. Doubt tugged at his determination, threatening to overwhelm him completely. How much longer could he endure this kind of living? Thoughts swirled in his mind, blending with the shadows that surrounded him. He had long moved on from the idea of exposing The Dome's secrets. Would it even matter? Why risk his safety for strangers who had blindly trusted in false promises? Ben couldn't care less about becoming a hero. He cared little for the struggles of others. If they chose to believe in The Dome's lies, that wasn’t his problem.

     As he reached the end of the alley, a sudden beam of light pierced through the gloom, illuminating the cracked pavement. Ben froze, his blood turning to ice as he saw the unmistakable silhouette of a Keeper looming ahead.

     Instinct kicked in, and Ben bolted in the opposite direction, his footsteps echoing off the desolate buildings. The sound of pursuit filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. He pushed himself harder, his lungs burning with exertion.

     But the Keepers were relentless, their shadows closing in around him like a tightening noose. Ben could feel their presence looming ever closer, their masked faces devoid of mercy.

     With a final burst of speed, Ben turned a corner and stumbled into a dead end. Panic surged through him as he frantically searched for an escape route. But it was too late. The Keepers had him cornered, their glinting eyes locking onto their prey.

     His body felt cold, he wouldn’t let them catch him now! He was so close to the wall! 

     As Ben rounded yet another corner, he found himself face to face with a towering gate, the barrier between him and freedom. It stood as a sentinel, guarding the city that had held him captive for so long. All he needed to do was get through that great wall, to be free from the city that imprisoned him.

     He sprinted to the top of the great stairs, slamming his hand down on the button that would open the path to his freedom. The path to Ellis’ dream. Fingers trembled as he pressed the button, his heart pounding with anticipation. He held it down desperately, silently begging it to go faster as the gates groaned, rising with an eerie hiss. Each agonizing second felt like an eternity as he waited, his breath caught in his throat. Freedom beckoned on the other side, but time seemed to drag on mercilessly. 

     In a moment of panic, he trips and inadvertently releases the button in the process.

     Time slows.

     His heart stops.

     Terror.

     His eyes go wide as he sees it slowly falling back down, right above him. He needed to run. Run. RUN!

     But his treacherous mind whispers to him, why run? Why continue to live, when you can be freed from this plane of existence? Why keep going when all you will gain is suffering? Why? Why….why….

     The gate is getting closer, yet time seems to have come to a stop.

     Memories flashed before his eyes, of his loved ones, the moments he cherished, and the dreams he had. All of that was ripped away from him because of them. Now? He was trapped. Helpless. Completely, and utterly alone. 

     "I can't do this anymore," he whispered, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks. 

     He thought about the people he'd leave behind, the pain and heartache they would feel. But the pain inside him was too much to bear. He wanted to be free from it all. 

     “Forgive me Ellis, I’m coming,” Ben finally says, his muscles relaxing as he accepts his fate. Fear out of his mind, he closed his eyes and faced upwards, a weak smile on his face. 

     He was not afraid, of the sweet forgiveness of death

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     Weeks later, he wakes. In pain. Suffering. Why was he still alive? He had been crushed by the gate. And still, he was forced to live on? Even in his agony, death—a merciful escape—was just another privilege they ripped from his grasp.

     There was nothing left but to surrender to the overwhelming despair, to let the tears flow freely as he lay broken and defeated. When the figures clad in black and silver arrived to escort him away, he offered no resistance. What was the use? The fight had been drained from his long-since exhausted soul, leaving behind only emptiness and a dull pang of resignation.

     Years later, someone would see a boy standing alone, a husk, a shell, of himself, his spirit already extinguished by the cruelty of life. A passerby would offer him a single flower, a gesture of kindness, or perhaps twisted curiosity. But the boy's empty gaze showed no emotion as he watched the fragile bloom fall to the ground, its petals scattered by the wind, akin to shattered glass. With a numbness that mirrored his existence, he would simply step callously upon the broken flower and into the gloom of the city.

Nothing more than another mindless drone.

Another tortured soul —

One more victim

of the great

City

of

Dreams.

The End