It was always like peering through a window. He could only see and hear, the words and actions of the strangers.

But they would never be foreign for long. As always, the play would end, in the course of one or multiple nights. And the barrier that would keep him out would crumble, without any tell or indication.

Only when they would turn to look at him would he know that the dream had ended, giving path to many more. Without exception, the most important inhabitant of the dream would find itself lost, the plot he had imagined nowhere to be found. Standing in one of the many possible invented locations, they would discover that they were nothing but figments of his own mind. And like always, it was like if a part of himself, one which he did not know yet, was reaching to him.

“Who… are you?”

The first time he dreamt a story, he was as confused as her. Rachel, as he had dreamt her name to be, was looking at him with fear, not knowing he was not one of the monsters that had chased her through the forest, every night. He always made sure to reassure every single one of his creations that there was nothing to fear or dread.

“Hello, Rachel.” He spotted a tree branch. He sat on it tiredly, trying to predict her next reaction. “Please, don’t be alarmed. As you may see, my flesh is not rotten.”

She relaxed slightly. Yet as he knew, she had seen many people carry the infection and turn. If only she knew it was mere fiction, she would not have grabbed a sharp stick and pointed it at him with menace.

“Yet.” She was looking all around her, perplexed. “I was… This is not where-”

“Yes, you had just gotten out of town, through this forest, and reached the military post, where you found safety.” He sighed, having seen the whole story play out. “Please, take a seat; I’ll explain.”

“How the hell do you know that, old man?!” She took a step closer, lifting her makeship weapon higher. “Did you take my gun?! How did you get me here?! Give back my stuff before they spot us!”

“There are no infected now, Rachel. Please calm down. I do not have your gun, though it may be somewhere still. While all items you saw remain, none of the people you interacted with do.”

She did not care about his words, because she spotted shadows in the distance, emerging in between the trees.

“Fuck, they’re here.” She dashed towards the closest tree, and after one resentful look, began to climb it. “You better start hiding where they can’t get you!”

He just sighed and stared at his hands, patiently waiting for the shadows to reach him. Above, she crouched on a thick branch; only when she was secure did she look down to see what he was doing. Under her sternness and bluntness, she did feel empathy when she saw that he had not moved an inch.

“What are you doing?!” Shadows now loomed over him, seconds away from holding. She called one last time, this time almost begging. “Move!”

He ignored her panicked plea. It was not a scream what he voiced next, but a calm whisper.

“You can climb down.” The figures finally reached him, and she was shocked to see that they did not lay a hand on his shoulder to pull him and tear him to shreds. They stood by him, caringly, for their expressions were not rotten and hideous, but lively and loving. “We want to welcome you.”

She did not understand his words at first. But like all his children, she soon would. Rachel had gone through a nightmare for him to see, and he would dream with her in return.