Page 12 of The Chamber
“Kenneth!” Michael shook him, his voice firm but gentle. “Wake up! It’s just a nightmare!”
Kenneth’s eyes flew open, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Michael’s face swam into focus, pale, drained of its normal color.
“Hey,” Michael said softly, stroking Kenneth’s sweat-drenched hair. “You’re safe now. It was just a dream.”
But Kenneth knew the nightmares were more than mere dreams; they were shadows of his past that threatened to drown him and perhaps even those he loved. They never went away for long.
* * *
In the dim morning light, Kenneth lay awake in Michael’s bed, staring at a photograph of his lover on the nightstand. The image captured Michael’s infectious smile and the sun glinting off his chestnut hair.
The picture caught a moment of pure joy, but Kenneth found no comfort in it. His heart felt heavy, weighed down by the ever-growing burden of his dark dreams.
“Can’t sleep?” Michael murmured, stirring beside him.
Kenneth looked over. “No,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “The visions—they’re flooding back. I can feel it even when they aren’t in my conscious thoughts. They never leave for long.”
Michael reached for Kenneth’s hand, weaving their fingers together as he sought to offer comfort. “I’m here for you.”
Despite Michael’s reassurances, the darkness within Kenneth continued to fester, clawing at the edges of his sanity. As the days turned into weeks, new nightmares haunted him, each more vivid and horrifying than the last. In his mind, he heard the pleas of his dying fellow soldiers and civilians begging for help, victims of bombs and unfocused gunfire.
“Maybe I can help,” Michael suggested one evening as they sat curled up on the couch, the flickering light of the television casting eerie shadows across the room. “I’ve been researching, and I found a therapist specializing in PTSD. I know you like the one you have, but maybe a second opinion wouldn’t hurt. She might have some insights or techniques that could help.”
Kenneth considered the idea, desperate for relief from his torment. But then, like a bolt from the blue, he remembered Richard’s offer—the Chamber of Endurance. A shudder ran through him as he saw Richard’s predatory grin in his mind.
He’d dangled the possibility of a cure. Could surviving the horrors of the Chamber hold the key to silencing his demons?
“Kenneth?” Michael asked. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Kenneth lied, quickly dismissing the thought.
After everything that had developed between them, he couldn’t speak about the Chamber with Michael.
“Tomorrow—show me what you’ve found about the new therapist.”
Kenneth made an appointment the next day, but then he abruptly canceled it two days later when his dreams escalated to another level of intensity. Kenneth couldn’t put the dark allure of Richard’s offer aside any longer.
“Is it worth it?” he asked himself, his thoughts racing back and forth as he stared at the ceiling one sleepless night with Michael sleeping blissfully at his side. “Could it be my salvation, or would the unknown physical and emotional torture merely plunge me deeper into the abyss?”
“Kenneth?” Michael murmured, half awake. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Kenneth lied again, turning to face his lover, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Just another bad dream.”
Kenneth clung to Michael as they hugged, desperately trying to anchor himself in warmth and love. Unfortunately, deep down, he knew that the siren call of the Chamber was likely too powerful to resist.
* * *
After reversing his decision about entering the Chamber of Endurance, Kenneth stood in a dimly lit hallway inside an abandoned office building at the address Richard shared.
Kenneth’s chest tightened, a rhythmic drumming in his ears as his heart threatened to escape his ribcage. He stared at the imposing metal door before him.
Somewhere beyond that door was the challenge of a lifetime. Richard said the horrifying experiences would be custom designed for Kenneth’s life situation.
He could almost hear the distant whispers of his darkest dreams, urging him to enter, taunting him with promises of relief from his torment—if he survived.
That was the only reason to go—the promise of a permanent end to the haunting war memories.
“Are you sure about this, Kenneth?” Michael’s voice cut through the silence.