The Deep Dream

Chapter Seven: Warped Visions like nothing before

Two days.

That’s how long it’s been since the last vision.

No flashes. No screaming echoes. No shadows peeling open my thoughts.

Silence.

I should be grateful for it.

Instead, it’s eating me alive.

Every second I’m waiting for something to snap.

For my head to split open again without warning.

For reality to slip.

I don’t know when it’s coming—and that’s the worst part.

Then the air shifted.

“Oh, James.”

My heart slammed so hard it hurt.

No.

No, no, no—

Fuck.

Not again.

The moment the words left my head, the room began to melt again.

Walls sagged. Colors bled. The floor folded in on itself like it was giving up.

Then—black.

When everything came back,I saw Isaiah.

Sitting in a prison cell.

My breath caught. That’s not right I thought he was supposed to go through everything I did

Something was missing. It skipped a part.

“No, James,” the voice said, calm. Almost amused.

“I skipped that part on purpose.”

The second it said on purpose, everything snapped back.

I was in the hospital room again.

Same walls. Same bed. Same stale air.

This was getting worse. Every time I slipped into a memory of Isaiah's, it hurt more coming back. Like my brain was tearing itself apart and stitching itself wrong.

Pressure built behind my eyes. A deep, splitting ache.

I flew my legs off the bed and stood—

Pain exploded through my foot.

“f**k—b***h,” I muttered, hopping back.

I lifted my foot, blood already spreading across the floor.

A nail.

Rusty. Sharp.

It was standing on the book.

Stood there like it had been waiting for me to step on it.

It’s starting to make things appear.

And now it’s hurting me.

“This book is a curse!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Get this thing out of here!”

I yelled. I hadn’t even finished Isaiah’s note. I grabbed the paper, desperate—I need to know what he said—

The second my fingers touched it, the note ignited.

Flames climbed the page in a blink.

“No—no, no, no!” I yelled, trying to beat it out, but it was already gone.

Ashes drifted to the floor.

The note was gone.

“I need that,” I yelled, panic choking me. “I need that.”

My hands were shaking. My head was screaming.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered. “This isn’t real. This is f****d. This is—”

Knock. Knock.

“Hey, James,” a voice said gently. “It’s me—Nurse Janet. I heard you yelling. How can I help?”

I stared at the door.

At the ashes.

At the book.

And for the first time, I didn’t know whether I wanted someone to come in—

Or whether I was terrified they’d see it too.