[ WP ] A dreamweaver is heartbroken and decides to curse the world with nightmares . Only one man can stop her .

Lumis awoke with a gasp and a cold sweat, her heart screaming in her chest. The images were just as vivid as they were the last time, as they were every day. Shapes. Jagged frames, dark lines, and a pressure that wrapped itself around her lungs. 
 
 The dreams were never cohesive. Each dream that cycled through her mind to be `` purified'' and `` resubmitted'' to the Mindscape Network was composed of fragments of a moment. The man in her nightmare was screaming; shrill, piercing, wet with blood. The pain was n't physical for this man. It was never physical. 
 
 A child clutched at the edges of his bed as the shadow descended, silencing his cries. 
 
 The woman sobbed, holding the lifeless form of her child. 
 
 An old man's breath weakened and weakened as his heart came to quiet. 
 
 `` Coffin nail Operas''. That's what she called the dreams she was tasked to clean. 
 
 She quickly reached to the back of her neck for the thin rubbery cord plugged into the Sleep Regulator and pulled. An iced bite slithered its way down her spine as the plug came free. Her hands shook from an imagined cold as she stared down at the cable: angled in shape with a forked crystal that glowed as it slid back into the mouth of the plug. 
 
 `` Warning. Sleep Administrator Lumis has detached neural network embrace from server. Systems log has been filed and a technician, Service ID 07421, Ricards Belacoz, is being dispatched. ETA 4 minutes. Please standby Lumis while we re-calibrate your systems for reintroduction into the Mindscape Network,'' the automated voice of the Sleep Regulator was as cold as the air in the room. 
 
 Why her? A gift, some would say - the gift to peer into the darkest corner of someone's mind and lift them out of the darkness. `` You will be a light, Lumis. A light to all those who close their eyes at night only to be trapped in their own minds by the evils that reside within. This is a blessing. You are a blessing,'' her Assigned Father Figure had told her when her received the Dreamweaver rating on her Sigmund-Karl Mental Space Aptitude test. 
 
 She had n't minded at first. The workload was smaller when she started and she knew the people she helped. She had the time to step inside their dreams, to take their frail hands gently, and say ever so softly, `` let me take you home.'' Then the warmth that would flow from her to them would fill the dream world with light and sun, laughter, love. The space would embrace Lumis and the dreamer in rolling hills of fulfillment and a gentle caress and they would smile at her. She gave safety, reprieve, comfort and they would give it back to her with gratitude. 
 
 But what of her now? Who lifted her out of the darkness that grew deeper and deeper each day? Why should she carry such a weight while the others lived in the light? She understood her purpose, her job, but every morning when she awoke, she felt her soul shed yet another shard. More and more of herself slipped from her grasp, replaced instead with an emptiness she no longer knew how to fill. 
 
 No. No it was n't fair. Did they deserve the dream as much as she did? For three long years she had done her job and done it well. No. It was time for her to sleep at last, to close her eyes for the sweet touch of the black nothing. `` I should n't have to accept their pain. I should n't have to bear their fears only to wake each morning screaming,'' she said to the empty gray room. 
 
 `` Warning. Sleep Administrator resistance increasing. At current trajectory total rejection of neural network embrace estimated within 3 minutes,'' the monitor was near urgent, `` technician has been notified of emergency.'' 
 
 No more! `` They will see. These horrors that I hold in. They will see!'' 
 
 She yanked at the table that tried to retract back into the wall and hastily jammed it back into the port at the base of her neck. *Soon*, she thought, *Soon I will have peace. * 
 
 **_____________________________________________________________________** 
 
 Ricards did n't even bother to grab his toolbelt. For this type of a fire, he would n't have needed it anyway. 
 
 `` Eight time this week,'' he breathed as he left his car in the spot, ignition on. He'd rather his car stolen than to allow the fire to get bigger without at least some risk mitigation. Chances were it would n't matter anyway - he'd be blamed even if containment was impossible. He had told his supervisor, told upper management: `` Unit 14 is unstable and needs to cycled out.'' Management cared only for the bottom line. Unit 14 had the highest yield and satisfaction on the Mindscape Network and they could n't afford the downgrade in service until they found a suitable replacement or replacements. Ricards might have hoped his bosses would pay for their greed, but such a hope might cost him his job. 
 
 The building was a concrete slab in the middle the dry night. Ricards placed his palm against the reader. A hiss and electronic squeal later, a crack appeared in the concrete facade, gradually widening to an open doorway. Two flights and Ricards arrived at the main terminal, thanking his recent increase in exercise for his light breathing. Pulling up the diagnostic screen for the server stack, he scanned through the readouts. All red flags. *Christ*. Image scrubbers were down. Downstream hardware was dropping packets well above the accepted rate and the Emotion Routing and Traffic Bus was failing to compensate. 
 
 `` Gods, I'm going to have to rewire the-,'' Ricards began, but was interrupted by the disembodied voice of the systems manager. 
 
 `` Hardware failure imminent. Direct access required.'' 
 
 `` Direct access?'' Ricards knew the manager did n't carry on conversation, but he needed to vocalize. In his 10 years of Mindscape server support he'd never come across such a term, `` tech ID 07421, query'direct access' clarification.'' 
 
 `` Direct access required. Emotional constant required. Technician is required for emergency stabilization. Unit 14 now opening for direct access.'' The server slid-rotated in place before receding into the floor to reveal an unlit corridor. Ricards paused. Unprecedented as it was, he valued stable income more than his fear of the unknown. Unemployment in this economy was by far the greater evil. He took a deep breath and entered the corridor. 
 
 There was a room on the other end; welcomingly light gray in color compared the drab dark of the concrete exterior. Ricards clenched his jaw, swallowing hard, and struggled to believe his eyes. 
 
 She was thin, above average height - perhaps 5'8'' or so - with pale skin. The `` bed'' she was laying in was the same kind he'd seen used in hospitals for comatose patients. It used a crystalline gel matrix that allowed for direct electro-stimulation to massage atrophied muscles. The woman had a kind face, but her cheeks were pulled in and her eyes gaunt. Next to the woman was another bed with a similar set up. Ricards reached back and rubbed the base of his neck, his fingers running over the hard plastic sheath that covered his neural network embrace. 
 
 `` Neural Network Embrace cradle awaiting technician operator.'' Ricards hesitated to take a step forward. His hesitation was noticed by the systems manager. 
 
 `` Failure cascading. Unit 14 is threatening to infect Unit 15 and Unit 16 with desync. Technician operator action required.'' 
 
 Ricards stepped over and lay down on the gel layer. It was cold at first, but the gel quickly warmed as it adjusted it's density to comfortably hold Ricards in normal posture. A cord exited an outlet from the control panel and snaked it's way to the back of Ricards. He closed his eyes and prepared himself. 
 
 
 Note: The rough idea developed more. Part 3 coming soon.
