“Good Morning/Evening/Night, Denizens of Dreams! It’s your Loremaster here with more stories stolen from the Lies We Tell During Sleep.” The avatar of a Chibi Cthulian horror bounced in the center of the screen. Its body is an ever-shifting array of colors, changing in a spectrum from cerulean to sangria. Tentacles reached and wrapped around its core, creating shapes resembling a woman’s pantsuit. Scattered among the tentacles were a rainbow assortment of cat eyes. “Tonight's stories start with The Cleaner of Dreamer,” the avatar said before a pair of bat wings enwrapped the camera. In the void, white text dripped into existence like pale blood ink.
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As the stream ended for the night, the sun trickled into the room. The shadows of the blinds sat on top of a near-comatose woman wearing a green latex suit. The woman started to stir, reaching up to her helmet, which looked like it was designed to keep motorcycle passengers safe, and removed it. She ran her hands through her auburn hair, shaking the strands loose from where they had been sitting for the past night. The familiar tapping between her shoulders brought a smile to the exhausted woman’s face. A face covered with smeared makeup: black lipstick and green eyeshadow.
Reaching up, she replaced the helmet into the sanitation cubby built into her entertainment ring on the roof. Her hazel eyes absentmindedly observed the connection of cables that ran behind metal and disappeared into the concrete. She ducked as she stepped out of the entertainment ring, pressing a button on the side of her outfit. The suit hummed, puffing out momentarily, cycling air between skin and surface. This brought a grimace to the woman’s face as she started to disrobe, tossing the outfit onto a hanger in her closet. The lime green number on the closet frame ticked down from 4 to 3 before a grinding sound could be heard from within. ‘Sanitizing’ appeared in the dusty orange font on the door as the woman stumbled backward and into a round bed with a single comforter and stuffed animal on it. Wrapping herself in the comforter, she began to sleep.
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The digital alert blared in her ocular and audio augments, letting not even closed eyes protect her from the predatory nature of the endless cycle.
‘Loan payment past due.’
It read in semi-transparent red. The post blinked, demanding attention.
“Shit, 40 minutes before my alarm,” Aki complained, using her eye to select the ‘X’ on the corner of the alert. “Fucking hell.” She grumbled, throwing the comforter off the bed. The cold floor greeted her feet as she shambled to the bathroom, the world still not focusing. The neon lights from advertisements and establishments blur into wonderlandian shapes in her peripherals. The shadows dance over the dusted interior of her room.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Her hand reached up to the clean metal door, its swift activation of pneumatic pumps sent her into a whirl. Splayed on the floor, the doorway now open, the gray concrete ceiling came into focus. The warm, sticky sensation that globulated around her neck was something she should have been worried about, but all she could do was laugh.
Aki’s laugh started weak, swelling with time before reaching a maniacal peak. Tears streamed down her face, and her shoulders lost all tension. Rolling onto her side, Aki’s laughter gave way to sobbing. The words of her digital therapist echoed in her head.
“Focus on what I can control,” she started his new mantra. “Every task done is a step forward,” she repeated in a monotone, subdued voice.
Standing, she made it to the shower, letting the warm water wash over her as the whirling of her cleaning unit started to work on her bloodstained floor. The digital branding on her soap tracked her eye movement, shifting to an advertisement whenever she wasn’t looking at it. Stepping out of the water, she reached under the soap dispenser built into the shower. Its beaded gel was dispensed in proportion to her body, and she started to apply it. When she stepped back into the shower, the chemical reaction started. The beads expanded, lathering her in an instant before rinsing off effortlessly.
As the process ended, the shower stopped its waterworks, and the vents in the walls opened up, using less-than-hot air to dry Aki’s body.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and selected her default makeup arrangement. The mirror flashed before sending an alert to her augments (augs):
‘Warning: insufficient funds. Continuing will subtract the funds for another portion from Sheph’s Co. Continue?’
Aki’s eyes rolled hard at this before mumbling, “Fucking don’t have money for my debt, need money for rent, need money for makeup, and if I show up to work again without it, I’m pretty sure I’ll be replaced by a Dreamer or something.” Blinking away the alert and selecting the ‘Yes’ option, Aki was rewarded as the digital arms extended from the mirror’s frame and started on her face. Reflexively she pulled back only for puffs and pumps to match her movement. She sneered when it was done. Sure, it was better than she could do on her own, even if she was allowed to access the ‘Controlled Chemical’ herself, but the process still bugged her, as did the expectation.
Reaching into her closet, she pulled out her Unified Systems uniform and got dressed. The azure shirt and black pants were covered with stitched-in names of all the microcorporations that made up the Unified Systems ‘family.’ She remembered when she lost a whole month's check to buy the stupid thing so she could have the privilege to work there.
But what could you do? It was work corp or die at this point, and Aki didn’t spend 6 years with an Educorp subscription just to end up a junkie selling ass in the trash.
“Origin, activate protocol 7, and run program personality Yidhra,” she said as she stepped out into the world.
“Well, at least I’ll have new stories for my stream tonight,” she smirked, wondering what the A.I. would find on this side of the Horizon. Checking her app, Aki smiled, seeing that the VOD of her last stream was uploaded to the tube.