This is a dream story.
I found myself standing alone on a familiar yet empty platform. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice over the announcement speakers saying, “The train will arrive shortly.”
I could see the distant silhouette of a train, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer. It was remarkably slow, and when the train finally approached, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter upon realizing the reason for its unnatural slowness.
The reason it seemed far was that the train was incredibly small, almost like a playground ride.
“Oh, this must be a dream,” I thought.
I had always been good at remembering my dreams since I was a child, and as I talked about them with my parents and friends every day, I had developed the ability to recognize that I was dreaming even while inside the dream.
In front of me, the train slowly came to a stop, and there were several men and women with serious faces on board, along with a monkey dressed as the train conductor.
At that moment, I found their serious expressions amusing, and I eagerly anticipated telling my friends about this story tomorrow. Without hesitation, I got on the train, thinking, “It’s just a dream anyway.”
For a while, I enjoyed watching the scenery passing by, which seemed somewhat familiar, but then I noticed a tunnel opening up ahead, with no end in sight.
As I entered the long tunnel, which was dimly lit and made me feel uneasy, an announcement suddenly played, saying, “Next stop, dissection ~ dissection ~”
Despite knowing it was a dream, I felt a sense of unease in the dim tunnel. However, when I heard the words “dissection” and couldn’t help but find it amusing, I turned around to see how others were reacting to this announcement.
There, I saw a man being gruesomely dismembered while still alive.
Countless monkeys swarmed around him, brandishing small blades. Within moments, the man turned into a mere pile of flesh. I watched in a daze, and one of the monkeys turned to me, gave a quiet laugh.
“This is a dream. It’s just a dream,” I said with a smile.
Inside the never-ending tunnel, as I desperately tried to wake up from the dream, I heard that voice again.
“Next stop, smash ~ smash ~”
From that moment on, I couldn’t turn back. Whenever the announcement played, I only remember hearing the sound of something soft being crushed and the rough breathing, as if from countless entities.
“Next stop, peel off ~ peel off ~”
The announcement was unmistakably close, right behind me. And for the first time, I heard the voice of a victim I believed was silently being killed.
The man, under attack by the monkeys, whispered in a small voice, “This is just a dream. Please, wake me up.”
In that instant, I screamed and jumped out of bed. Despite just waking up from the dream, I was breathing heavily, drenched in sweat.
I trembled uncontrollably as I reached for a bottle of tea on the bedside table, trying to calm myself down.
And when it became clear that I had just awakened from the dream, I finally let out a sigh of relief.
In the next moment, I heard a voice saying, “Let me show you the continuation of this dream,” coming from the dark corner of the room. I knew more than anyone else that I wasn’t dreaming anymore.
Since then, I haven’t been able to sleep. It’s already been four days.
