Sleeper 4

Chapter 04 Let's Go Out And Have some Fun

Dear Readers,

I wanted to let you know that Paw Chronicles will be taking a short pause. Life sometimes demands our attention in unexpected ways, and I need a little time to step back, recharge, and return with fresh energy and inspiration.

I truly appreciate your patience and support—it means the world to me. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, and I promise this isn’t goodbye. The story will continue, and I’m excited to share the next chapter with you when the time is right.

In the mean time enjoy “Sleeper” twice a week. I am also working on some other project which introduce you soon.

Thank you for being here.

Warmly,
Kater Murr

Chapter 4 Let's Go Out and Have Some Fun

Lazarus — Journal Entry, Week 5

During the next weeks, I threw myself into workouts and mental training. I just wanted to forget.

The muscle memory came back faster than I expected. My lungs burned during the first runs on the treadmill, but by the end of the following week, I could climb the ladder in the gym without stopping. The aches in my joints faded. My body started to feel like mine again.

I even started trusting Al again. Even though he had blocked my memories. Even though he still dodged certain questions. His voice was always there when I needed it — steady, sometimes even warm. Like a shadow of the world I had lost.

I could only hope that the secrets I carried wouldn’t destroy me before my task was fulfilled.

But what was my task?

Dr. Chen said to “rebuild.”

But the other sleepers were gone.

The lab was a tomb.

And me?

I was a ghost from a forgotten time.

I wish I could ask Dr. Chen one more time.

Sometimes I’d catch myself staring at old pictures, as if they might give me an answer.

Sometimes I thought I saw the faces of my dead friends flickering across the monitors.

What was I supposed to rebuild?

Find survivors?

Or… was I the sleeper?

I wish I could ask him one more time.

Lazarus — Journal Entry, Week 6

Two important tasks lay ahead of me.

After I had repaired the mechanical systems on the upper floors, I could finally give the robot arms a proper set of instructions. They moved slowly, almost reverently, as they placed the remains of the other sleepers into makeshift coffins I had pieced together from storage crates and scrap metal. They deserved more than this. More than silence and dust.

But this was all I had to offer.

For their burial, I needed to open the big gate — the external airlock that led to the old ceremonial platform outside the facility. It had once opened automatically, part of the lab’s evacuation protocols. But the systems were fried.

No power.

No override.

If I wanted that gate open, I had to do it by hand.

And I would.

They'd waited long enough.

“Al, do we have any tools for opening the big gate?”

There was a pause — longer than usual. Then his voice came, low and calm.

“You’ll need a heavy hydraulic jack or equivalent leverage for a manual override. There are two on Sublevel 1.”

The air in Sublevel 1 was heavy — not toxic, just… stale. Forgotten.

I found the jacks buried under collapsed shelving and half a century of dust.

They were ugly. But they still worked.

I hauled them upstairs one at a time, muscles burning, sweat stinging my eyes.

I took frequent breaks — not out of weakness, but survival.

They were bloody heavy.

It took me three days to position them correctly.

Two more to reinforce the frame so the gate wouldn’t shear off and crush me.

On the sixth day, I pulled the levers — one at a time.

The gate groaned like something ancient waking from sleep.

And then… light.

Real, natural light.

Cold and pale, but beautiful.

I hadn’t seen the sky in years.

---

L14 – Below Sector Delta

The blinking light called her.

She slipped through the hole, glanced at her timer.

Five hours until the bot came to collect the gravel.

Plenty of time for a quick look.

Red-Light – District – Lesbian – Section

L14 tilted her head.

“What does ‘Lesbian’ mean? And what is a red-light district?”

The words echoed oddly in her mind — strange, half-familiar. Like something heard in a dream.

She walked slowly through the decaying streets, the echoes of a long-dead nightlife whispering in every broken light and cracked tile.

Painted, well-shaped women lined the walls, posing beside elegant old doors with their hands raised in graceful, welcoming gestures.

Some smiled.

Some looked bold.

Others... almost mournful.

Their eyes seemed to follow her.

“Sappho’s Den,” read the sign above one door.

L14 paused, tilting her head.

The name meant nothing to her — and yet, something about it stirred a flicker of recognition deep in the archive of her mind.

She pushed the thought aside and stepped inside.

The entrance hall greeted her with pale lighting and silence — and statues.

Dozens of them.

Alluring young women, frozen mid-movement, as if performing a dance for long-vanished guests.

Some were completely nude.

Others caught in the act of undressing — fingers curled on the hem of skirts, bras slipping from shoulders, one biting her lip in playful defiance.

L14 stared, one brow lifting.

She shook her head.

“Had the builders of this place taken leave of their minds?”

She stepped further in, the floor creaking softly beneath her boots.

She moved slowly through the hall, carefully.

She wondered where did the energy come from for the lights.

The lighting shifted subtly — pinks and violets bleeding into the soft white, casting everything in a faint, unreal glow.

As she passed another statue dressed as Diana, she noticed a plaque at its base:

“Desire begins in the eyes.”

L14 frowned.

A soft chime sounded as she entered the next room — a kind of lounge. Velvet chairs arranged in small circles. Mirrors on the walls. Empty glasses filled the dust of decades and broken light fixtures scattered like lost memories waiting to be discovered.

And screens.

Dark now, but clearly once used for... projection. A display wall flickered and crackled weakly as she passed. Something tried to load.

Then the first image came.

Two women. Naked. Embracing each other, but it didn’t look that they were fighting. They touching each other in a way that L14 hadn’t seen before.

L14 froze.

The image disappeared.

Her throat felt tight. She felt a strange heat from her lower body. Her breath was getting faster.

“Why would they record this?” she thought.

“Why store it? Why display it?”

She needed to sit down, her head swum.

Her pulse was faster now — not from fear, exactly. Something more subtle.

Something she didn’t yet have a name for.

She turned away sharply, pretending the malfunctioning screen didn’t interest her.

But she didn’t leave.

She should have left.

Instead, she stepped through the arched gate and into the circular chamber beyond.

A faded red glow pulsed from hidden fixtures along the ceiling, casting long shadows across the polished floor. The air smelled faintly of old incense and rust.

And then she saw it.

The statue stood at the center like an offering. Two women — frozen in stone, yet so alive.

One knelt reverently, her face pressed into the lap of the other. The standing woman gazed upward, one hand resting gently on the kneeling figure's head, the other lifted toward the heavens in a gesture that was half invocation, half surrender.

Her expression radiated something L14 couldn’t name.

Not dominance.

Not submission.

Something else. Something whole.

L14 approached.

At the statue’s base, worn into the stone in elegant lettering, were the words:

“Sappho, to thee I call — Where is man?”

She read it aloud, voice quiet in the hollow room.

Sappho.

The name sparked a flicker in her database — a poet. Female. Revered, lost, fragmented. She searched for the rest but found only pieces. Incomplete.

And that final question — Where is man?

L14 stared.

She felt warmth rise inside her again. That unfamiliar heat. That strange ache behind the ribs and between the legs.

The room was silent.

But something in her had changed.

She didn't know what this place had been.

But she was beginning to understand what it had meant.

She opened the plastic bag.

Inside was a little book — no more than fifty pages, its corners bent, the cover smudged with time.

The title read:

“All Female Erogenous Zones and the Art of Self-Pleasuring.”

L14 blinked.

She read the words again. Slowly.

Her breath hitched — not from fear, not even from shame. Something else. A strange flicker of interest she didn’t want to admit.

She flipped through the pages.

Diagrams. Descriptions. Soft sketches of bodies — female bodies — mapped with gentle lines and notations. The tone was almost clinical… almost.

But the language was warm.

It spoke of discovery, of control, of self-knowledge as pleasure. It invited its reader to learn the architecture of sensation. To explore herself. Not for survival. Not for reproduction. Just… for herself.

Her heart was beating faster again.

She closed the book after a few pages and set it beside the pillow. Turned off the light.

But in the dark, her hand moved.

Not to touch.

Just to rest lightly on the book’s cover.

As if to say:

Not tonight. But soon.

---

---

Lazarus — Journal Entry, Week 7

It had taken me four days to bury the remains of my friends and colleagues. I buried each of them with a brief prayer, and the quiet wish that they might be in a better world. I knew many of them, even though I could only identify them by the dog tags we all wore:

- Tim Peters — a young student from the US who wanted to do something exciting.

- Maria Meyers — German; she had hoped to use the money to pay off her debt.

- Zhang Yi Mao — who, like me, was in prison until Dr. Chen gave him a second
chance.

After finishing that sad task, I needed rest.

Today, I felt like exploring the town on my own.

Tall spruce and birch trees lined the edge of the road like silent sentinels, their leaves whispering secrets I couldn’t quite catch. Beyond them, low hills rolled beneath a sky that seemed too blue to be real. Somewhere, a hawk cried out — the sound echoing through the valley like a memory.

The fresh air was wonderful. My memories reminded me how long I’d spent in Beijing and Shanghai, where the air wasn’t just bad — it was poisonous. Not a day passed without a mask, without hearing someone coughs, or without seeing the latest pollution reports.

But this was Kelsey — and here, the air was fresh.

It looked like Kelsey, but something was different.

Dr. Chen bought that mining town after it had stood empty for more than 30 years.

It had actually everything what one would need for a delightful town for 5000 people.

A cinema, a shopping mall, and public library to name a few things.

It was once a delightful dream, and I had lived here. But now it looked different.

Nature hadn’t just survived - it had won.

I stepped outside through the mangled gate, the wind cool and crisp against my skin.

It smelled like pine and loam and something sweet I couldn’t quite name.

My boots crunched on gravel as I made my way up the hill overlooking the town.

Below, Kelsey slumbered under a blanket of green. No smoke. No power lines buzzing.

No dogs barking. No cars. No voices.

Just the still hum of a planet catching its breath after centuries of violation. Everything looked so peaceful, so serene. Why hadn’t we learned to live in harmony with nature when we still had the time? The forest was already reclaiming the city. Maybe in a couple of centuries, nature would overgrow Kelsey.

But for now, the city still dominated the landscape. I knew it was a foolish question, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Al?” I said, almost afraid to raise my voice.

“Yes?” came the gentle response through my headset.

“Is someone else here?”

A pause. “There are no confirmed human life signs within sensor range. But the forest teems with activity. Deer. Foxes. Something… larger.”

I swallowed hard. “Something larger? A carnivore?”

“No. It’s a herbivore.”

“A moose?”

“No, bigger. My sensors say it’s the size of an elephant.”

“Is it coming this way? Should I go back?”

“Too late for that. Hide inside the building on your left.”

I sprinted toward the building and yanked open the rotten wooden door. Just in time—I heard heavy footsteps pounding closer.

“Lazarus, can you turn on your cam and take a look when it passes?”

“Sure.”

The thudding steps drew nearer. Soon, I would see it.

Dr. Ivanow had always bragged he’d bring back the mammoth. Well, he was successful. What moved slowly past my hideout looked very much like a mammoth—huge, regal, and covered in thick fur. I guessed the beast weighed at least two tons.

After five minutes, it was gone.

“Al?”

“Yes?”

“Remind me to fix your sensors. I’d really like a little more warning next time it drops by.”

A pause.

“Noted.”

I continued my exploration. It was wonderful to see how some of the experiments had turned out. More than a hundred scientists had worked here to create a better future for all. I walked toward the large greenhouse. What I saw inside was breathtaking. Everything was chaos, but the plants were thriving—bearing amazing fruits: Professor Olearus’s fruits. He wanted to create not big fruits, but healthier ones. And here I saw them: lemons, oranges, passion-fruit, and others whose names I had forgotten. They looked so delicious, after months of instant rations I could not control myself.

First lemons. I plucked one from a nearby tree, took out my knife, and cut it in half. Then I squeezed the juice into my mouth.

I had expected a very sour taste, but it was—strawberry! It was amazing! But the biggest surprise was not the taste. It was how I felt after tasting the lemon. I felt more than great. Like the weight of my years had gone in a second. Then I felt like trying one of the oranges, its taste was amazing too - cinnamon and ginger!

I wished I could have talked the old German professor about his work. It was enough for Nobel-prizes! But suddenly I felt like someone was watching me, I looked around carefully and then saw them - two big eyes that belonged to a small, cute white cat that stared at me.

"Hello" I said, and the little white cat raised its paws like it wanted to greet me.

I wasn’t sure if I’d just found a new friend—or something far stranger.

“Al, can you hear me?”

Static crackled. "Yes, but—connection—getting bad—" The words cut in and out like a failing heartbeat.

I glanced back at the cat. It had moved closer without making a sound. No rustling leaves. No patter of paws. Just... there.

"Well, the outside looks amazing," I said, louder than necessary. "I'm in Professor Olearus' greenhouse. The fruits are—" My throat tightened as the cat tilted its head at a sharp, avian angle. "—amazing. I guess I don't need vitamin supplements anymore if I switch to these."

A vine brushed my shoulder. I nearly jumped out of my skin. The cat didn't react. It just kept watching. Waiting.

Al's voice cut through: "—sensors show—near you—not in database—"

The cat opened its mouth.

No meow came out.

---

L14 – Below Sector Delta

L14 wandered into the abandoned red-light district, a place long forgotten by the city above. Neon signs flickered weakly, their colors bleeding into the cracked pavement. The air smelled faintly of perfume and dust—a ghost of pleasures once sought and sold. In some places, the scent stirred strange, intense sensations within her—her breath quickened, and she leaned against a wall as her knees suddenly felt weak.

She paused before a shattered window, peering inside at faded posters and discarded costumes. Holograms of women performing acts she did not understand flickered softly, their faces illuminated with expressions of happiness, pleasure, and something else—an uncanny mixture of pain and longing.

Among the debris, she found a tattered book, its pages yellowed and worn, filled with pictures and words hinting at human connection, desire, and intimacy—concepts she sometimes grasped, though she didn’t know why.

As she turned the pages, parts of her body reacted in strange, unfamiliar ways. Suddenly, images flashed in her mind—visions she couldn’t decipher. Dreams of holding someone close, caressing their skin—the sensations overwhelmed her. Her knees weakened, and she needed to sit down, quickly.

She remembered a place nearby: Zenobia’s Automatic Cafe, just a few steps away. She made her way inside and sank into a seat. Pulling out her water bottle, she drank quickly, closing her eyes; her throat had become unbearably dry in mere seconds. How could a few words have such an impact on her? She put down her bottle on the table next her. She needed to breath, she needed get herself under control again.

She set the bottle down on the table beside her. She needed to breathe. She needed to regain control.

In... out... in... out... her chest rose and fell slowly, steadying with each breath.

Still, her throat was parched. Eyes still closed, she reached for her water bottle and drank…

The cold, smooth surface of a small glass in her hand told her that was not her water bottle, and liquid tasted sweet and then …bitter. She opened her eyes to see a crimson liquid shimmering inside—a drink from the cafe’s automated dispenser, labeled simply: “Red Essence.”

Without hesitation, she drank a second time.

The liquid slid down her throat like liquid fire, igniting a strange heat inside her whole body. Her senses sharpened—colors became more vivid, sounds more distinct. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and the world seemed to spin.

What had she just consumed?

Then she heard a voice. “Would you care for a movie?”

More dreaming than awake, she murmured, “Yes.”

L14 took another sip from the glass, licking her lips slowly. Then, in a voice slow and lush—almost not her own—she said, “Yes, please.”

“Please, put the headset next to you.”

Still more in a dream than awake, she placed the shiny, sterile headset on her head.

“For this case, that is your first lust-simulation movie. Please rest your arm on the support and lean back.”

"The movie is a lust simulation movie based on the 1967 novel by E. Arsan.

We are going to show you all the scenes that might interest our lesbian audience.”

You can decide if you want to experience only certain scenes or… all.”

Still dreaming, L14 licked her dry lips and whispered, “All,”the word slipping out before she fully understood.

A soft hum filled the room as the headset’s lights dimmed. The world around her blurred, colors melting into one another, and a warm wave of anticipation settled deep inside her.

She closed her eyes, surrendering to whatever came next.

---

Just a quick heads-up—Sleeper will receive updates on Tuesdays and Fridays .
I know many of you have been patiently waiting, and I truly appreciate your continued support. The next chapter is on its way soon, so stay tuned!

Thank you for reading, and as always, thank you for being part of this journey with me.

Stay sharp.

Kater Murr