The Hall With No End
Lucid Codex Entry 005
It started like a memory.
Soft. Familiar. Harmless.
She was with someone...maybe a boyfriend, maybe not. The lines between love and proximity were smudged. They were in her mother’s house. He pulled her toward the bed. She laughed, whispered:
“Not here. What if she walks in?”
It felt real.
It felt recent.
They needed to leave. Find privacy.
But then...
The room blinked.
And she was somewhere else.
A building. Massive. Unfamiliar. Breathing.
Mall-like, at first glance...except the ceilings were too high. The halls, too long. Everything was stretched. Angled in ways her eyes didn’t want to interpret.
She was in a changing room now. Alone.
Until she wasn’t.
A woman entered. Face unremembered. Presence sharp. She said something cryptic...words that clung to the walls and cooled the room like smoke.
Then...
Another shift.
She stood behind a massive pane of glass.
Outside: people. Alive. Talking. Moving.
But slowly.
Like they were underwater. Or half-rendered.
None of them looked her way.
She wasn’t there.
Not to them.
She moved deeper.
Into another room.
A bedroom now. Empty, except for a dog. The dog barked...then bolted into a connected bathroom where someone was already showering.
A woman’s voice snapped:
“Get out!”
Not at her.
She didn’t even see her.
But the dog did.
The dog saw her.
It stopped. Looked directly into her. Growled like it recognized something unnatural.
Then...her son.
Sudden. Smiling. Laughing.
Small.
He ran toward her like it was any other day, in any other dream.
She froze.
If he saw her…
Would the rest begin to see her too?
She grabbed his hand.
Pulled him away.
Room to room.
Hall to hall.
The space fractured around her.
A building made of mirrors and memory:
One room filled with clothes...none hers.
Another: a couch with no door.
Another: mirrors, but no reflection.
Another: a window showing her childhood… empty. No one home.
Each room led sideways into another version of itself.
Each hallway forked in directions that didn't make spatial sense.
There was no center.
No exit.
Only continuation.
They stopped.
She sat on the floor. Her son curled beside her.
Breathing.
That’s when she heard it.
The hum.
Not from the walls.
Not the vents.
From beneath.
The floor was vibrating.
Not mechanically.
Intentionally.
Something below was watching.
Not with eyes.
With rooms.
It rearranged itself based on her choices. Based on her fear. Based on her memories. It wasn’t trying to trap her.
It wanted her to continue.
To wander deeper.
To keep feeding it details.
But she knew now...
The hallway had no end.
Only intention.
And it was waiting for her to forget why she started walking in the first place.
-
Dream 9/28/24
I was in a home with someone I was dating or friends with benefits. We were at my mom's house, and we were leaving to go to my home. He grabbed me on the bed. I said we can't have my mom pop in on us, so we should go to my place.
Then I was in a mall-like area or some large building with a lot of rooms and very long hallways. I was in a changing room, and this lady came up to me and said something I can't remember. Then I went to another room that had an outside area. People were out there, but they couldn't see me, and they seemed to be moving slow.
I went to the bedroom, and there was a dog. He went to the shower area where someone was taking a shower. I was startled because I didn't want them to see me. She started yelling at the dog to not come in the shower, but that dog saw me and was probably trying to tell her there was a stranger in the house.
Then I saw my son playing, and he looked at me. I had to get his attention so he didn’t alert the people outside. We went into the same building, but different, and we went into another room. It was full of clothes and a couch. I needed to sit. Then I woke up.
