Paradigm's visage flickered in and out, like wisps of incense. His all too familiar thin smile reached ear to ear. A heat seemed to emanate from him. A warm miasma. The fury in his eyes was unmistakable.
Dangerous. Where have I felt this way before?
I could not look away, I realized. I wanted to. I did everything I could to move my head away from him and face Dharia. I could feel her as she glanced back at me. My neck was stiff, unflinching. Something had taken hold of my body and mind. It was a pressure that I remembered feeling not too long ago, from when Paradigm had nearly launched me out of the hospital window, and when Dharia threw me across the hall.
She must have seen a terrifying look on my face, because her eyes opened vigilant and bright with terror. When she turned back to him she demanded that he answer her questions; this time, pushing for a straight answer. But the pressure I felt did not come from him, that supernatural force. No, it radiated off of her.
"Dharia…" I murmured. The pressure grew, filling my lungs like helium in a balloon, and pinched my chest. My vision darkened like a vignette. I managed to plead, "Dharia, please" before the force of their power sent me backwards into the wall. Dry wall exploded all around me.
"Monty!" Dharia shouted. She whipped around back to Paradigm and scowled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The box still glowed in her hand.
"Dharia, what's happened?" he asked. The fury in his eyes did not extend to his voice. It soothed her like velvet, so much so it gave her pause. I could tell that she noticed it too, the way he spoke and the way he looked at me.
"You haven't been entirely forthcoming. Like this--" She raised the box and turned it around. The light casted dancing shadows on the walls. "It must be important if you'll betray my trust to pocket it."
"Dharia, I haven't lied to you. You must understand that everything I've shown you does not invalidate the truth you've realized yourself," he said. I could feel him prying into Dharia, like he had with me. A cloudy ripple hung around her head, twisting and turning the light of the box, refracting it like a bubble. "He stands between you and your freedom. And so too does that artifact." He reached out and beckoned her like a dog. "You clutch at this shadow of a person, as if it mattered more than the real thing. But when you wake up, will you even remember him? Will you seek him out? Or will you return home, to your mother, to your friends? He merely exists to be expunged. I have done the courtesy of supplanting myself, as you asked of me, here to help you overcome this betrayal of reality. It is a cancer, nothing more. It is foolish to prolong it any longer."
"And Monty? You were so sure he wasn't real either. A shadow. You mean he's just a figment of my imagination? An obstacle that only exists in my own head?" She risked another glance at me. "I don't even recognize who he could even represent. How could I imagine someone I've never even seen before?"
"He is not real, nor is he someone you've seen before. He's merely an aspect of the dream you've built as a cage."
I tried to cut in. The words closed up my throat, but I managed to get them out.
"That's not true! Don't listen to that pasty snake. I'm staying here in the hospital, just like you!" I thought about telling her my room number, but the rest of my words fell out, jumbled together..
"Is that true?" she asked. The question hung in the air, suspended over us like a bomb about to go off.
"Would that make a difference if he existed in the real world? It is one thing to say he really exists and another to say this…this shadow represents him," he said. His image flickered, like a broken digital camera. He gestured toward me. Then, he asked, "How does that make you feel? You can be honest with me and say it's hurting you. No wonder you've found this task too demanding. It's hard, I know." He walked forward to her. His arms waved outstretched, gesturing along with his words. "I can see how much it's been eating at you. But I wouldn't have told you all this if I didn't think you could do it." He brought his hands to his chest, almost as if he were pleading. No warmth extended to his chameleon eyes. They changed color with each lie spoken. "Please, let me help you. Let me help you see Isabel again; see your mother again."
Isabel? Cindi's snarky laugh came to mind. Maybe a friend of hers? Your mother? Mom. What would she tell me right now? She'd tell me to wake up, that's for sure. I remembered how her hand ruffled my hair as she told me to get out of bed for school. So long ago.
"So he does exist," she said. "Out there."
"Do you think it makes a difference? I did not want you to bear that burden if you did not have it. And regardless, this is a manifestation of him. No one you see here is of flesh and blood."
"Dharia, listen to me," I said. "Think about what he's doing. He's trying to pin you against me."
That seemed to be the wrong to say, because her face crinkled with astonishment. "Uh, yea. No shit!"
I pressed it. "He doesn't really want to help. There's something else he wants." I pointed at the box. "My friend and I found that thing before the first AAD was reported. You remember that day last week when the sky lit up like fireworks?"
She nodded. "It was all over the news," she said. "I remember, I was home for Thanksgiving break."
"The nurses told me you fell into a coma after you came into contact with someone who suffered an AAD."
Paradigm was watching us, curious.
"If I had killed him in the dream, can you assure me he wouldn't have been harmed in the real world?"
That's it. That was the kicker. A crack in his facade revealed itself. A slow, sinister glimpse of the man beneath the mask revealed itself. A sinking feeling filled my stomach. He was really trying to kill me? All of this over that little box. When I looked at it again, a feeling tugged at me.
"Oh my god," she muttered. "I--I should have known." The pressure around her expanded, so that it enveloped her entire body.
"I know you're terrified, child," Paradigm reiterated. He was attempting to repair his fractured persona. "I would be too if I was placed in your predicament. That is why I've come to act as your guide. Your voice of reason." He started to lose that assuredness.
"How did you even get in here?" She paused. I could see the gears turning in her head, with the way she waited patiently to hear him. She smiled. A glimmer of hope lit her eyes and teethy grin. She must have realized something important. I nearly gasped when she asked, "How long have you planned to use me like this?"
"The box," I said. "It must be behind the dream, behind your ability to control the dream. And his ability to coerce you."
Paradigm stopped in his tracks. Something in the air shifted. "When you were first brought to me, I knew you would have a difficult road ahead of you." For the first time in the conversation, Paradigm turned to me.
"I am truly sorry for the pain I've caused, Monty."
A shiver ran down my spine.
"I acted rashly, as all professionals do when a problem arises. I'd like to apologize. But, some things are beyond you and me both. I'm certain you understand that. He came to you too, didn't he?"
He came to me. The shadow, along the wharf. So, they're connected? What does it mean? I flipped from one thought and memory to another, like a scrapbook of mixed media; newspaper clippings, vintage polaroids, digital photos, drawings and spreadsheets. I tried to remember everything. No. He was trying to get in my head again.
"Oh yes, he has. He came to you that very night. I can see it on your face."
Dharia interrupted, "What the--" Her cadence took on a frustrated edge, "The fuck are you talking about? Who? When?" Paradigm brushed her off without even a glance. His attention was entirely on me.
"Well, it's no matter. You'll understand soon enough. Everyone will."
I met his glare. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to see his face as I put together the dots.
"I remember--shortly before I fell unconscious--a person. It was too dark out for me to really get a good look at them. I didn't know who they were but I did get the sense that they shouldn't be messed with. They came shortly after we discovered the black box."
Paradigm nodded, though it was difficult to tell. He was less concrete now, more vague, like a retreaded memory from last week. I could tell Dharia found it difficult to follow his movements too. Her eyes settled where he swayed and slithered toward us, as if she was focused on his afterimages, a step behind him.
"Yes…yes, you've…" His voice picked up. A light flutter betrayed his excitement. I assumed at first the shakiness was a trick of his transience. Just another odd quirk I could attribute to dream logic. But now I wasn't quite sure. Then I looked at Dharia and her bubble wobbled all the more fragile, shaky. It was going to pop.
"DHARIA!" I shouted. She glanced at me like I had just screamed bloody murder--which to be fair, I kinda did. "Don't let him in. He's trying to control you."
"Nonsense. Dharia, you've done enough. Give me what's mine."
"Or what?" I spoke for her. "Look at him. He's fading."
That must have been it. No wonder his visage was so fragile. Dharia's disillusionment meant that she was starting to take back control from him. She noticed it too. She smiled as she realized it.
"You know what. Yea, kid. I think you're right."
"K--kid?" I scoffed. "Is that anyway to apologize to someone?"
"Nevermind." She laughed. Then, to Paradigm, "You've been using me all this time." She stepped forward and her bubble expanded with each threshold crossed. With each encroachment the stranger had stolen, she took back. Paradigm's visage broke with every inch closer she drew.
"No. I won't let you control me any longer."
"Dharia. You don't want to do this," he pleaded. "Think. You're going to regret it."
Just one more push.
"This is my dream," she stated. It was a fact, solidified. The words were no longer vague affirmations. I felt a warmth within me begin to build. It was courage. Hers.
That was when I knew she had taken back control. Paradigm screamed, his voice filling the empty space between us. The pressure lifted entirely off my shoulders and coalesced around him like a swarm of bees. It squeezed until a flash of light and colors exploded from the planted phantom.
As he succumbed to the light, his teeth flashed white, and like a crescent moon in the dead of night the image burned in my mind as everything went black.
* * *
I woke up in my hospital bed with a raging headache. The light on the ceiling hummed rhythmically. I stared up at it. In the dream, it shattered when the room shifted. I didn't realize how fragile it looked from down here.
I groaned as I sat up in bed. The curtains were drawn partially closed, but sunlight still managed to stream in through the crack between. I looked around, expecting a mess of cracked glass and broken medical equipment. But instead, I saw my room exactly as I left it. Then I remembered it wasn't even my room I nearly ruined. I was no longer in Dharia's room, however.
I was awake. Had she?
I slipped free from the linens, gathered up the courage, and started down the hall towards her room. The corridor was awfully quiet, disturbingly so. For a moment, I thought I was still in the dream. Another trick of Paradigm's. Only when Sharon's full smile lit the hall that I knew I was awake. She waved inconspicuously and, like an accomplice, I did the same.
Dharia's door was…well, a door. Intact. Rather innocuously normal, as any door ought to be. I laughed outside her room. If Sharon had walked past me right now, she'd surely think to recommend me to a shrink.
I opened the door, fully prepared to walk in on a mess, but surprised to find the room had not been touched. Not a single thing was amiss. No knocked over medical equipment or IVs. No shattered glass or lights. No bed thrown through the window. Just a girl sitting up in bed, staring right at me.