Cover Photo By Andrea Vicencio
Cover Photo By Andrea Vicencio.

SOMNIA


Have you seen this man?


By Isabel Adolor, and Francis Gatuslao | Thursday, 4 February 2021

The man stands perfectly still, balancing on the edge of the building. Dr. Adamson bursts through the door, staring at the man on the ledge, his back still turned to him. He slowly steps closer, avoiding any sudden movements. The man stands on his toes, daring the wind to push him forward.

“Just tell me what you want!” Adamson demanded, his voice barely loud enough to be heard.

The man turns to Adamson. Blank eyes stare back before his lips curl into a smile. Before the doctor can reach him, the man tilts his head up and leans back. Adamson runs toward the ledge. The man, falling through the air, gives the doctor a bad case of vertigo right before he hits the grou—

His eyes shoot open, sitting up from the reclining chair. He clutches his chest, attempting to steady his breathing.  

“Did you get a good look at him?” she asks, sipping her coffee.

He turns to Dr. Eve, who sat at her desk, her head buried in another research paper. Dr. Adamson continues removing the electrodes attached to his body. 

“Yeah,” he replies, rubbing his temples. “How long have I been out?”

“About eight hours or so, I sent the film out for development already.”

Adamson buries his face in his hands. The experiment takes a toll on most test subjects, with the expected headache dealt with aspirin and an egg sandwich after each session. But this is uncharted territory for them.

“Any new recordings?” he asks his fellow scientist. Eve flips a page of her research paper before glancing at her watch. She stands up from her desk to check on the S.O.M.N.I.A., a machine they developed for recording dreams. 

Eve unlocks the back panel, removing rolls of tape from the machine, “Let’s do it.”

“Mom, can we go home now?” Johnny’s shrill voice cuts through his headache. He narrows his eyes at the boy who is sitting in one of the reclining chairs, a spitting image of his research partner.

“In a while, sweetie,” Eve says as she winds the audiotape. “We just have to review these dreams.”

The boy gets down from his seat and stands beside his mother. “How will you see their dreams with that?” 

She turns to her son and beams at him, excitement filling her sleep-deprived brain. “For now, we can only listen to the dreams, but what you saw Dr. Adamson doing earlier was our first test to see someone’s dreams.” 

“Woah, is it like.. his whole dream?” Johnny asks wide-eyed.

“Only a few seconds of it, but hopefully we’ll be able to one day.” 

They begin listening to the recordings, minutes of static with occasional intelligible words, Eve jotting down anything they can make out. Write. M. hear. eye. Eve lists everything from each tape, but nothing substantial from this batch.

“God, it’s just a bunch of nonsense again,” Adamson tosses his clipboard across the room. “We started developing the S.O.M.N.I.A. years ago, and all we’ve created is a glorified tape recorder.”

“I think you’re forgetting that years ago we couldn’t even hear sound, let alone make out words.”

“I wish you guys could see my dreams,” they both turn to Johnny, “I have lots of friends in my dreams that—”

The three jump when the lab door bursts open. An intern rushes in with a film container, handing it to Eve. She looks up at Adamson, they both share a look before smiling ear to ear. Eve hands him the container and begins setting up the projector. He opens the steel container, admiring the developed film. With shaky hands, he loads the film into the projector. 

Blue fills the screen before dark shapes of different sizes appear across the screen. They begin to overlap one another but no clear image emerges. Adamson’s breath hitches when he makes out the figure at the edge of the building. “Just tell me what you want!” 

The shapes slowly begin to mold together, forming a sharp image when the man turns to face Adamson. Blank, doe-like eyes pierce through the screen. His thin lips curl into a smile, revealing a few wrinkles in his face. His feet finally leave the edge of the building before the screen turns white. 

“That was him but, the amount of detail...” Adamson mutters, turning the projector off. “Maybe the film was double-exposed.” 

“No, that's just how he usually looks in my dreams.”

Both scientists turn back to face Johnny.

“He said you’ve been trying to find him.” Johnny continues.

Adamson and Eve look at each other in shock. She kneels in front of her son, gripping his shoulders. “You spoke to him?”

“Duh, he was that voice you guys were listening to earlier.”

Adamson immediately begins ruffling through the boxes. He loads the tapes into different tape recorders for playback. M. write. hear. eye. He plays them at different speeds, different orders trying to make sense of it.

Eye. M. Write. Hear.

Last updated: Thursday, 4 February 2021
Tags: IntoStory