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I basicly just started in my bedroom. I then, as i normally do, closed my eyes and said "i am in a big city." When i opened them, i was in a big city like NYC. First i summoned a motorbike and rode around on that. Then i summoned a gun and went around and killed people. It got boring quickly, so i decided to fly. I just flew around in the air with not goal. Then i decided to have an MMA fight. It went pretty well, i won, but several times under the fight i almost woke up. When i was done, i decided that it was enough for tonight so i woke myself up.

A wizard violates the laws of nature when he creates human beings from scratch. And then there are zombies.

There's a shabby old farmhouse on the plain, over the crest of the hill. No roads lead to it, because in this time, there are no roads. If there's a hint of civilization in this place, it's what's been carved out of the land by its few inhabitants.



I knock on the door.

The door swings open and a middle-aged man with longish black hair answers it, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile when he realizes who I am.

"Amon." I say, "It's been a while."

He leads me inside, beaming. The inside of the house is bright and warm and filled with people. I notice the eight people in the room, most of whom are cooking and doing various odd jobs around the house. Amon is rushing away to go help with something.

I take an empty seat beside a kid who looks to be in his mid-20s. "I'm Eli," he says, "and the scary-looking guy across from me is Mark."

Mark glares menacingly from across the table.

"So, Eli," I say, "How did you come to be here?"

"Could ask you the same question." Mark interrupts.

Eli continues like he hasn't heard him. "I was a civilian consultant for the military back home. It's a long story, but the same thing that pulled all of us back here somehow pulled me in. So really, I'm from the future," he says happily.

Neat cover story.

"So, when were you from?" asks Eli.

"I need to talk to Amon." I say dismissively, and kick my chair back.

Mark stands up too, his pose threatening. "I don't know who you are," he says, "but you're not one of us. If you try to hurt any of these people, I will kill you."

I turn back to him, considering. "Duly noted."

I catch up to Amon outside. He's leaning against the wood siding of the house, staring up into the sky.

"So," I say, leaning against the wall beside him, "They're self-aware."

Amon pulls away from the wall a bit, turning to face me. "They are." He confirms. His smile becomes wistful. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Your own perfect little creations." I say, frowning. "You know, there's a reason the creation of human life is considered a forbidden art."

"Those laws don't apply here," says Amon. "And of all people, I thought you would understand why those rules are arbitrary."

"I care little for conventional morality, Amon," I say, warning in my tone, "But this is dangerous. As my student -"

"You taught me to choose my own path," says Amon. He gestures at the door. "This is what I've chosen. These are real people, ---." He lowers his voice. "I won't abandon them."

I can't stop a smile from creeping onto my face.

One of his creations comes outside to tell us that dinner is ready. The man is smiling and holding a bowl of potatoes and a wooden spoon. I try to ignore it, but I can't help but notice that his hands are shaking.

---

Over dinner, I keep an eye on the man with the potatoes. His name is Darryl, and he's a carpenter from the 1950s. At least, he thinks he is. In reality, he's a construct whose artificial soul is straining at the bonds keeping it in place. I'm surprised the others have lasted so long.

Eli keeps trying to draw me into the conversation, but I keep one eye on Darryl throughout the meal. He's getting progressively more pale and shaky, I notice, as Eli introduces me to a pretty woman in a dress, called Solara. She's either from an alternate, apocalyptic future or a rich family in the 19th century. I'm not paying much attention.

Because Darryl is stumbling, backing away from the table into the wall, and as he collapses, a wave of energy pulses outward, knocking over every construct at the table.

I calmly set down my fork, then stand up and walk over to Amon. "I hate to say I told you so," I tell him, "but it's time to go."

"No!" says Amon, knocking my hand away. He staggers back to the other end of the room, looking over the scene with horror. "I have to help them."

"Amon." I say, approaching like I would a wounded animal. "There's nothing you can do. We need to leave before you're affected, too."

"Yes." he says, eyes wild. "Yes, yes, I can't help them," He looks straight at me. "But you can. You can fix them."

"No." I say flatly. "This is a bad idea."

He's already started the process before I can protest further, pulling soul energy from a well deep inside him, gathering it up.

I can't stop him.

"Take care of them, ---," he says, struggling to hold together the colourless swirling energy he's holding in his hands. "Please."



The soul energy hits me at the same time I feel Amon vanish from existence, gone as if he'd never been there. The energy is a rush, but I control it effortlessly, and spin around to confront the automatons that are his legacy.

The thing that was Darryl comes charging at me, and I telekinetically smash it into the wall next to me. Its feet are dangling in the air as I examine it. Gari d'amon ex hadris, I chant in nonsense Latin. I let the body fall, boneless and broken to the floor.

Mark is still half-standing, leaning against a chair for support. He's been watching with the glazed look of a man in horrible pain, but he's still somewhat alert.

I approach him in much the same way I did the zombie, cautious. I nudge him back toward the wall with a tendril of energy, but I don't lift him from the ground or slam him into the wall.

"This is going to hurt," I warn him.

Mark nods and lets his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed. So assured, I grip Mark's artificial soul, pulling it into a ball from his chest. I twist my wrist, watching his hands clench into fists, and let trickles of the soul-energy I absorbed from Amon sweep into the artificial soul, strenghthening it.

I don't have time for anything more elaborate. I push Mark's soul back into his body, forcing it to slice through his veins in one swift motion, sticking it there. If he could get any breath into his lungs, he would be screaming.

I leave Mark on the floor, stepping over him to the other bodies. This just might work.

In the end, I only manage to save five of them, Eli and Solara among them. The other two, I simply put down, severing their nervous systems and absorbing the very last of their energies. The once cozy farmhouse feels oppressive, haunted by the wild energy that echoes throughout. We need to leave.
"You have water?" I ask a woman, whose name I don't know. She nods silently, looking back over the farmhouse.

"Well?" says Solara, gathering up her skirts and hiking out into the desert, the opposite way I came from. "Let's get going then."

Amused, I follow after her, followed, in turn, by the rest of the group. Mark stays close behind me, though I doubt it's to watch my back. More likely, he just wants to keep an eye on me.

Eli jogs to catch up, panting as he keeps pace with me. "So, what happened back there, exactly?"

"Amon was a necromancer," I say. "He wanted to create life, so he came here. He created you." I keep my eyes on the horizon. "He couldn't sustain himself along with all of you, so he sacrificed the rest of his soul to keep you alive."

Eli blinks. "Okay, that's completely unbelievable."

I look back at him and say without inflection, "The wormhole that brought you back in time dosed you with massive amounts of radiation that was going to turn you into zombies."

"Thank you," says Eli. "Why didn't you just say that the first time?"

Eli tries to catch up to Solara. I turn back to Mark and shrug. What can you do?

I could swear I almost see Mark crack a smile.

---

The next hill brings us the view of a tall, white-panelled manor not too far off. I wonder what could have made it; we're supposed to be in a universe devoid of all sentient life, after all. The rest of the party is just relieved to see a trace of civilization, so I suppose that it's worth the risk.

We trek up the gravel road (another oddity) to the house that shouldn't be there. Eli and Solara are running inside before Mark and I have a chance to check it out - which Mark isn't happy about. We meet them inside. Solara is twirling in circles over the hardwood floor, a smile on her face as she admires the high ceilings.

I'm trying to examine my surroundings on a deeper level, but something is blocking my senses. This place might seem like heaven to Solara, but something is very wrong.

Mark's dividing us into teams. He wants Eli and Solara to stick together on the main floor, watching for any signs of life (anything to keep those two out of trouble). He sends the two nameless constructs - people - off to explore the rest of the main floor while the two of us head upstairs.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't trust me with the others." I say in a low voice, out of earshot from the rest of the group.

"I don't!" says Mark, turning around to face me on the stairs. I calculate a four foot height advantage. "You show up and suddenly, four of us are dead! What the hell do you expect?"

"If I hadn't shown up when I did, all of you would have been dead." I say, meeting his angry gaze.

"Do you remember what I told you, earlier?"

I tilt my head, walk up the last few steps until I'm standing far too close. "You said you'd kill me." I smile, and Mark takes a step back. "Would you like to try?"

We hear a scream from the main floor. Mark is rushing down the stairs toward the sound, shouting "Solara", and I follow behind at a more modest pace.

Solara has collapsed on the floor. Eli is backed up against the counter, faced by a wraith-like creature with rotting skin. Eerie green light seems to flow from its features, making the sunlight streaming in the windows seem colder somehow. Its flowing white dress seems to flutter in a non-existant breeze.

Revenant, my mind supplies me with, as it turns to face Mark. Controls illusions, typically feeds on travellers. It hasn't noticed me yet.

"Do you like my home?" the revenant asks Mark. He starts forward, but it reforms into the shape of a Chinese woman with long dark hair and modern clothing. It's someone he seems to recognize, and he freezes on the spot.

The revenant approaches him, raising one hand to his face -

I attack with a right hook to her jaw. I spin and lash out with a kick. I've left myself open. The revenent strikes with her claws, tearing my throat out. I laugh, the liquid splashing my clothes, and continue to strike at her.

Hang on, that's not fair.

What isn't? It's right on my character sheet; I'm immortal.

You should at least need some time to recuperate.

Nope.

Oh, come on, you get banished to the basement...

I take a moment to adjust to my new surroundings, dark and damp and distinctly underground. I'm in the cellar. I curse revenants in general to hell and back, but I'm not too terribly concerned with the constructs, either. Mark should be able to handle himself for a little while.

I take stock of the food in the basement, a lot of cereal and a working freezer - hey, Neapolitan ice cream. The others will be happy about that. The overhead light starts to flicker and I sigh. I see movement in the corner of the room, feel hairs raising on the back of my neck.

I spin around and catch the revenant by the throat. She's flickering back and forth between her wraith image and her human one, and I force her to the ground, crushing her windpipe. She claws uselessly at my arms, but it's too late, I've got too good of a grip on her. Unfortunately, revenants don't need to breathe, either.

There's a short flight of steps leading back to the kitchen, and I drag her up by the throat, letting her white dress drag over the dusty steps. I step into the kitchen, where the five survivors are standing around in a circle, trying to figure out what to do next.

Mark looks up first. "We thought you were dead." He accuses.

"I don't die." I say.

I throw the revenant onto the floor, where she scrambles back along the tile, surrounded by six very non-human travellers. "Now," I say, tilting my head to the side and smiling down at her, "How do we go about killing you?"

Character Creation. Scare Factor: 3.

There, I'm done. Finally.

Kill them! Kill them all! BWAHAHAHA! Ooh, pretty flowers.

My partner and I are divvying up guns and ammunition from a trunk he brought with him. The pistols are old-style revolvers that take forever to load, so I grab two, stuffing one each down the front and back of my jeans. Which is probably a bad idea, but hey, we're in a hurry.

Our team is comprised of settlers - space explorers even. I think we've decided that we want the planet, and we're going to kill all the people in the compound ten feet away. I don't know; I haven't been paying much attention. I just want to fight.

Vicki hangs a flare gun over one of my shoulders, and I'm smoking a cigarette, for some reason. There's a fuse on the end of the flare, and I accidentally light it with my cigarette, which is now a lit match. Hurriedly, I aim over the wall of the compound and fire, starting off the battle.



A man inside the compound aims some kind of explosive firework at the rest of the team, but I'm not concerned, since I'm not part of the big group standing together like bowling pins. Morons. Things explode, and we rush the compound.

I'm behind the rest of my team, so I don't get to shoot many people. I'm a little nervous about it actually. By the time we've cleared most of the place out, most of my team members are down.

We're only shooting the people with guns, which happens to be the men, mostly. Men and women and children are all standing together, and if you would take cover, I wouldn't be shooting you! I'm holding dual pistols, sending twin shots into the chest of a man that just. won't. die. Never mind, he's down.

I get a message over the radio, saying that some kind of failsafe has been activated. Plant life is withering around the ship, and it's going to kill us, too. The ship is about to evacuate the planet, and I have to run if I don't want to be left behind.

I take off down a grassy path, trying to run as fast as I can. Quickly, I realize that I can pull in more speed, and my surroundings simultaneously blur and come into sharper focus. I was just talking about running really fast in dreams, with Puffin, and it really is the best feeling - wait a minute.

I'm lucid. I stop and look around, urgency of the Run Away task starting to dissipate. I look around at my surroundings, which are very green and very floral. It's beautiful, really.

I wander back to the landing site just because I can. The plants are dead all around the ship, and nothing's left but mud. Most of the crew are off to the side, away from the ship and avoiding whatever deadly contagion plagues the soil.

I walk right through, calling up plant life as I go. I want to talk to one of the DCs, but I'm being pulled back into the dream plot.

Suddenly, we're all peaceful and getting along with the inhabitants of the planet. I'm talking to Johanna, who's playing one of these people. I'm given a tour of the compound, and I make ivy spring up along the walls, which starts flowering immediately. It should start growing fruit within a few days (you know, since we destroyed their supplies and all).



***

Wandering around an RV, which seems to fit an entire house in it. Linkara's giving me a tour, and I'm still making flowering ivy grow along the walls. I wonder what it's feeding on.

***

My brother is driving the same car we crashed into the harbour last night. We're driving along a road that's made entirely of ice, and he's going way too fast. We're driving into an underground castle-like structure where his music lessons take place. There's a steep downward slope, and PEDESTRIANS! LOOK OUT! SLOW DOWN! And a sharp turn right after a quick ramp THAT SENDS US FLYING into the air and we're going to crash and I telekinetically shove the car back onto the road.

We come to a stop.

"Okay," says Ben, catching his breath. "Maybe I'll go a little slower next time."

Border Skirmishes. Scare Factor: 3.

New rule: DCs aren't allowed to drive. Ever.

I try to banish a spirit in the name of God. It works about as well as you'd expect.

I'm at a train station, even though I'm sure that just a second ago, I was actually on my train. I shrug it off and try to get on the next one, but the conductor informs me that they don't allow dogs. I crouch down and hug my golden retriever, and we both stare up at him with sad puppy-eyes.

The man rolls his eyes and tells me that I'll be able to get on the next train. I thank him and walk back to the platform, where the people I'm travelling with are waiting. Fortunately, they have to wait for the next train as well.

We're on the train, but something's wrong. After a bit of investigation, we conclude that the entire train is haunted. Our team of Scooby-Doo-like investigators tracks it to its source - a bathroom in one of the sleeper cars.

I'm chanting nonsense Latin, "Omnipitus spiritus, omnipitus draco lux."* I repeat the chant, but it doesn't seem to be working. In fact, the haunting seems to be getting worse, black smoke sneaking in through cracks in the bathroom mirror.



The black smoke manifests over the vanity, and I catch a glimpse of a little boy in the mirror. The smoke lashes out at my companions, and distantly, I can sense the utter terror that they're beginning to feel. The girls are frozen, unable to move, and I...

I just feel hungry.

I've forgotten about the chant, and I fall silent and step toward the smoke. It shies away from me, tendrils retreating where I try to touch.

No, that won't do at all.

My hands lay at my side, but I'm latching onto the energy with my mind, pulling it toward me, devouring it. The black energy fades into my cloudy black and red aura, but I feel just a tiny wisp escape.

The girls are catatonic, and I ignore them, stepping silently through the train cars, looking for my quarry.

I see a white rabbit, my childhood pet, hopping through one of the train cars. I pick him up, but he starts squealing and twisting in my arms, trying to get away. He's scratching up my forearms and I wonder, dimly, if he's afraid of the dark presence that's been haunting the train.

No, I realize. The last wisp of the ghost has possessed my rabbit. I pull the last bit of dark energy out of the animal, and consume it. The rabbit goes still. I try to resurrect him, but organs start to leak out of his belly, and the stitching is coming apart.

***

"Can you help me?" says the boy.

I'm possessing a ten-year old. Go me. Apparently, the White Council is after us, probably for something I did. Apparently you're not supposed to kill people in this world?

Dresden comes back wearing some sort of ceremonial mask. I'm not paying attention, so the boy freaks out and runs away. He tries to hide in a storage closet, but Dresden catches the door and takes off his mask. "It's just me, kid." I take over and tell him that "I knew that".

I'm Dresden, now. I'm inside my office, talking to Murphy. I say something about the White Council. I'm about to do something really stupid, and it'll probably involve explosions.

Exorcisms. Scare Factor: 4.

*Apparently, this is really close to the actual exorcism I was going for: ""Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica..."

Okay, guys. I'm done spamming the Recent Entries section, I promise.

Also, romance with a fictional character? Very lame. Thankfully, this can only end badly.

What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause—to use their own knowledge against them?



I'm browsing through the sale aisle at Bootlegger when I feel the temperature drop. Slowly, I place the t-shirt I was holding back on the rack, and reach out with my senses, feeling at the presence that appeared directly behind me. I can feel a stare burning into the back of my head, and I turn around, keeping my hands visible and obviously empty.

Standing there is a dark-haired man in a trench coat, staring at me without blinking. Aside from the creepiness factor, he doesn't appear to be a threat, but I can see beyond the physical. Cold light bleeds from his form, barely contained within his vessel, and I check my initial impulse to attack.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I ask, gesturing with my hands.

His expression doesn't change, though I notice a slight twitch of annoyance. "My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord." He says this tiredly, as if it's something he's had to recite a lot lately.



Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I've heard those words before. I'm still caught up in the feeling of deja vu when he says, "Luc, heaven has work for you."

The words jolt me back into the present. "Wait, what?" I say. "My name's ---."

"Of course it is." says Castiel.

I calculate my chances of being able to control the holy fire I'm about to summon. Blue flames start to dance across my fingertips and my claws lengthen in response to my irritation.

A ball of pure kinetic force slams into my side, sending me flying through the glass store-window. I pick myself up from the ground and spin to face my attacker, a man I barely get a glance at before I'm dodging another kinetic missile.

The force slams through the back wall of the shop, sending people screaming for cover. I roll into a crouching position and pull all the glass around me into the air. I throw the broken glass and the shards fly like bullets toward the attacker. Before they've even hit, I'm sending a wave of holy fire at him.

The incompatible energy burns ice-cold, sucking the heat from my bones. I collapse, shaking, fighting for breath. I manage to raise my head to look at the wall of fire that's burning on its own, and decide that it'll probably hold off the angels long enough for me to escape.

A hand grips the back of my shirt and hauls me to my feet. I look up at Castiel and groan.

"Bit of a trigger-happy bodyguard?" I complain, leaning on the angel for support. "Was that Lucifer? It looked like Lucifer." I mutter.

Castiel actually rolls his eyes. "We should depart. It would be best to avoid him for now."

"Oh no." I say, stepping back from Castiel on still-wobbly legs. "I can't take any more of your light-based heavenly magics right now. I say we walk."

Castiel just looks around our flaming surroundings. The building will probably fall down on us any second now.

"Fine." I say, closing my eyes and bracing for more hypothermia. I feel Castiel touch my shoulder, and a sudden lurch, and I open my eyes. We're standing in a three-car garage; concrete floors, white walls. The weirdest thing? I feel completely fine.

"Guess I've found an angel I'm not allergic to." I say, "Where are we?"

"Heaven."

"What?"

Castiel doesn't have time to answer. Flames are appearing from nowhere, licking up through the concrete floor and burning it away. The flames explode outward in a spiral and I shield as best as I can, but I can feel them lick at me, burning cold.

I'm running toward the door to the house, stepping onto the tile floor and slamming the door shut behind me. There's an inch of space left, and the door won't stay shut.

Last time, it actually closed the whole way, a little voice reminds me, but Lucifer is on the other side of the door, twisting the doorknob and I pull against the door, holding it shut from the inside. Lucifer is pounding on the door, causing it to rattle in its frame. I'm worried he might actually knock it down.

Of course, the fact that he hasn't is a little insulting.

"You know, I am way better at being you." I mutter.

I look around for something to brace the door with. The garage opens directly into the kitchen. Metatron is walking through on the far side, behind the island.



"Hey, Metatron! A little help here?" I say hopefully, still holding the door shut. It shudders against the onslaught.

Metatron looks down his nose at me. "Honestly, Luc, the lot of you are acting like children," he sneers, and continues on his way.

"My name is ---!" I shout at his retreating back.

The feeling of ice water is creeping back into my veins. I shiver and lean against the doorframe for support, gripping the doorknob with my right hand. I hear shouting from the other side of the door and the noise is lessening. Lucifer's not trying to get in.

When Castiel appears beside me, the room seems to get a little warmer. I'm clutching at the lapels of his trench coat before I even realize what I'm doing. The cold is fading away, though, and I decide that it's worth the awkwardness.

"Is he gonna back off?" I grumble into Castiel's shoulder.

Castiel tentatively places his arms around me. "Raphael understands that we need your help. So long as you don't burn down any more buildings, I think you'll be fine." He pauses, considering. "If he finds out that you mistook him for Lucifer, though, he might try to kill you again."

"Raphael." I blink, pulling away. "That makes more sense."

"I also recommend that you remain close to me," Castiel says, "Heaven's defenses seem to have an adverse affect on you as you are now."

I shiver. "Fair point. Now what the hell is it you want me to do?"

---

It turns out, the bright blue energy I've been playing with for the last few weeks has been wreaking havoc on Heaven's delicate ecosystem. For some strange, probably sinister reason, I'm the only one who can fix it.

Part of the living room has been torn away to reveal a crack in the dream-fabric. Blue electricity is spitting from the black chasm, and the angels in the room shy away from it every time it crackles. Castiel and I walk into the room without much fanfare, though the two angels hurry out as soon as we get there.

"Is there something I'm missing?" I wonder aloud.

"You need to absorb the Lux. We'll be able to repair the tears," says Castiel, pointedly not answering my question.

"So there is something I'm missing." I say, turning around to look at Castiel. "What happens to me if I do this?"

Castiel's face is deliberately expressionless. "You'll be able to withstand our defenses on your own for a time. Once we've repaired the tear, I'll return you to Earth and the Lux will fade away on its own."

I turn back to the tear, staring into the terrifying void, alive with crackling blue. It's breathtaking, in a way.

"---," he says, catching my elbow. I look back at him. "Please do this."

I smile and say, "I never could say no to you, Cas." It feels like I've said the words before.

Castiel pulls back like he's been burned, and I turn to the void, holding out a hand and bracing myself. I focus on the blue energy and pull -



It's like crashing headfirst into a star. The whole world is alive - burning - and I can see. I can see everything. I can see blue, blue, bright, light blue, and it's trailing after every living thing in the universe. I don't know. I don't know what it is, but it's not light, not like Heaven, not like the power Readers have. It's deeper, more primal, and it wants nothing more than to be free -

My world explodes with blue light, and my bits and pieces of awareness are interrupted by the intense humming of the Lux in my veins. I'm vaguely aware of strong arms pulling me away from the hungry black tears in the dream-fabric, of clutching at the rough fabric of a coat, trying to hold on to something tangible, before I'm torn away from him and left to calm down.

The next thing I know, I'm in the kitchen. I'm sitting on a stool at the island, propping my elbows up on the granite countertop, resting my chin on my hands. Most of my attention is on the movie being projected on the wall across the room. I have a vague recollection of choosing Dogma just to be obstinate.

Castiel walks in from the living room, looking neither more or less rumpled than he usually does.

"How'd it go?" I ask.

"We were successful, thanks to you," he says. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." I say, "Better than fine." I can still feel the Lux thrumming through my veins, offering me power beyond my wildest dreams.

As much as I might like Cas, he doesn't need to know that.

"We've done this before, haven't we?" I ask quietly.

Castiel looks away, and I catch his hand in mine. He meets my gaze, looking sad.

I let go of the breath I was holding. "Wish I could remember."

Our hands are still threaded together, and he squeezes my hand, says, "Let me take you home."

And we're standing at the center of an empty city square, bathed in orange under the afternoon sun. The cobblestones are warm beneath my feet, and the air is dry and still. Castiel and I are holding hands, and when I look up at him, my breath catches in my throat.

"We'll just do the same thing, Cas, over and over again. You know that."

"It has to be this way."

"It doesn't." I insist, but Castiel is already letting go of my hands.

"I'm sorry, ---." He raises two fingers to my forehead, preparing to erase my memories.

My force push sends him flying through a brick wall. Dust and mortar fly everywhere and the angel collapses in a heap. The rest of the wall falls in on him.

I'm standing with my palms outstretched, panting. I let my hands fall to my sides, and watch silver-white light leak from the pile of stones. I don't have much time.

I flee the square, running over the cobblestones and heading toward the cliff overlooking the rest of the city. I don't slow down; I leap from the cliff and focus on the rooftops hurtling toward me.

As I land, I blanket this section of the city with my black and red aura, sending my awareness out in all directions until only the blue-white energy is left. I can feel the pull to a place only I can find, and I close my eyes and let myself drift toward Lux.

Seven Minutes in Heaven. Scare Factor: 3.

I'm at a track for horse-races, in the back. There are trailers around, and stalls as well. The place is deserted.

I don't know what clued me in to the fact that this was a dream. I think on that for a second, then shrug it off. I've been meaning to try flying. I jump into the air and swoop around for a bit. I remember to try to contain my excitement, but -

New dream. I'm probably ten years old, fighting a friend who has decided to be a witch. It's all in fun, and I trace sigils into the windows and tell her she can't get inside. In retaliation, she sets a bulletin board on fire. All of my photographs go up in flames, and I smother the fire with blue energies that aren't a tiny bit wet.

Fighting Fire. Scare Factor: 2.

Two girls hide in a closet behind the bathtub. The dream has been third person for a while now, focusing on the girls, who are part of a super-secret experiment involving clones or superpowers or whatever.

The Matron is walking into the room, and the pre-teen girls - Rae and Johanna - are hiding from her. Rae is about to leave the room and face her, hoping that she can still save Johanna from a horrible fate. Rae takes a deep breath and steps out into full view of the office -

Only to be blocked from sight by an adult stepping in front of the door. It's me. The Matron is coming in behind me, and I'm distracting her from Rae.

"It's always an... experience, hosting a representative of Cypher Industries." The Matron says, ushering me toward one of the chairs facing her desk.

"I've no doubt," I say, sending a wink at the girls hovering at the bathroom door. No doubt the Matron knows they're there, but she's ignoring them so far.

"If I may ask," she says, sitting down, "What brings you here? Our corporations have not been on the best of terms, as of late. Your safety is not assured."

"I'm supposed to give you this." I throw a sheaf of papers onto the desk in front of her.

She doesn't touch it. "And this is?"

"Oh," I say, rolling my eyes, "Roundabout legaleze that doesn't mean much. It's basically demanding access to what we consider to be our property."

"Really?" says the Matron icily, "And what property would this be?"

"You are in possession of two very special little girls. We want them; I'm taking them."

"Why shouldn't I kill you right now?" Her hands are folded on the table, her head tilted to the side.

"Oh, that's easy," I say, leaning back in my chair. "The term is 'Tactical Nuclear Missile Strike'."

"Excuse me?"

"My team is currently flying directly overhead," I say, leaning forward, "If I flatline, then they will immediately make the entire island -" I wave my hands, "Explode."

There is a beat of silence.

"Get out."

"I'll be taking the brats, then." I jump from my seat, smiling widely, and make for the door. "Pleasure doing business with you!"

Rae and Johanna are right behind me. The three of us run down the glass staircase, laughing, as the world unravels around us.

Corporate Sabotage. Scare Factor: 2.

...I am a psychopath.

I'm Dean Winchester. We're on a hunt, and I'm running from the thing we're trying to kill. I jump over the piles of wood at our job site, aiming for the window of the just-framed basement.

I'm lucid out of nowhere. I'm still running and jumping, and nothing is chasing me. I shapeshift to default, frame slimming and I'm moving faster. I vault through the window, over a chain link fence and take down the guard on the other side. He gets up and I shoot force-lightening at him, blue electricity arcing from my fingers.

The Job Site. Scare Factor: 2.

I'm running away from something. I'm underground, and it's dark and brown and I propel myself forward upward through the cave system. The thing I'm running away from is catching up to me, but I realize that I'm dreaming. I spin on my heel, turn around to confront the creature. I feel an icy thrill of fear when I see it. An inky black miasma chokes the air around me, and I can feel the creature's energy trying to infect my every pore.

I use that against it.

I expand my awareness, absorbing the black energy and forcing it to change, twisting it into an approximation of my own energy. I blanket the creature in a cloud of soft red and black, my aura, and allow the energy to dissippate.

All of my surroundings are gradations of red and black, and I find the atmosphere calming. All that's left of the monster is a swathe of black fabric on the ground, and a round plush toy that doesn't make much sense. I step over the toy and peer out into a gigantic cavern.

The very air starts to hum. I can feel bright blue energy spiking through the dream, interrupting the calm dark colours, and the energies start to clash as everything fades to white.

Something Blue. Scare Factor: 6.

And then I went to the dentist's office and found this:


It's identical.

Cell phones are evil and I talk to my brother about comic book continuities. Apparently Batman showed up in the Sandman universe. I'm playing video games in a living room. I switch the gender on a character customization screen, which affects three dreams:

- A ghost enacts vengeance on his/her killer, and both go up in flames. There's a picture of a kitten involved.

- A warrior... guy... who looks like Ichigo from Bleach saves two main characters from... something, but one of the background DCs gets killed. The costume is warm, and he looks at the river, thinking about going for a swim. Zoom back to me with the video games, looking at a character screen that looks way different than the actual character did.

- I have to capture all six million Pokemon. I also have to click across a screen to keep them happy.

I'm in the same room, which is now a bar. I'm sipping on the large chai latte I bought before the coffee shop closed. Linkara is bartending. It's someone's birthday, and he randomly slices pieces off of an angel food cake when people come in. There are two cakes; one is hiding in a cupboard somewhere.

Time Management. Scare Factor: 2.[/QUOTE]

Fragment: Misha Collins and I walk through a grassy field, looking for a shed or a house that contains something important.

Fragment: My own dark energies are overshadowed by the presence of bright blue.

I've somehow popped into the Sandman universe, after the end of the Lucifer series. Considering I'm the devil herself at the moment, albeit one from an alternate reality, I think it prudent to avoid people who might recognize me.

A group of the ex-Lucifer's allies are converging upon a town, ready to attack, for some reason. I have an image of him (from my avatar) crashing into one of the buildings with a semi-truck, stepping out unharmed. I realize that I'm going to have to hide my healing ability.

I make for the rooftops. I run up a ramp and leap onto the side of a three-story building, using tiny handholds to inch my way onto the roof. I get to the edge, and I pull myself up, and immediately scramble for cover at the back of the roof. Mazikeen jumps up the same way I came, armed with a sniper rifle and ready to take out enemies on the ground.

I notice that she's recovered the other half of her face.



I inch out of my hiding place to get a better look at her, and she turns around. "Lucifer?" she accuses, calling fire into the palm of her right hand.

"Um, no?" I say, "Not yours, anyway."

She doesn't seem to believe me, and being burned alive is never fun.

"'He flew outside of creation, and the nothing imposed itself upon him. Or maybe he imposed himself upon the nothing.'" I misquote, "It was something like that, anyway."

Yeah, that fireball doesn't seem to be dying down.

"I'm here to help! Really!"

"You're here to help?" She says mockingly, "What can you do?"

Some time later...

I'm a child in white, laid out over an altar. A man holds a knife out in front of him, poised to strike into my heart. Like lightening, I stand up and take the knife, slashing across his throat and spraying arterial blood into the audience. A woman licks her lips, and I wonder what it tastes like to her.

One sacrifice down.

Stray Little Devils. Scare Factor: 2.

I'm in water, dog-paddling, and it's dark. Someone lifts up the lid, and I shrink back from the light. He doesn't see me, but he puts down the blade of the propeller inches from my head, and I curse. I swim around the boat and climb on, quickly dispatching the three guards with strikes to their temples. I go about tying them up with the single length of rope I have, using slip-knots. I look for my allies in the other boats.

Something goes wrong, and I'm captured. I'm tied up, but slip free of the rope almost immediately. They take me to their leader, who looks suspiciously similar to me.

I'm with a class of young people, led by a teacher who might be from a university or college. We're shovelling rocks over the cracks in a hollow, rocky hill. The hill is shuddering as the monsters inside ram themselves against the rock, trying to break through and kill us all. We avoid these spots, trying not to antagonize them as we bury them alive. There have been attacks lately; we're trying to strengthen our defenses.

We finish that edge and go around the corner. The wall is missing. Our group freezes, coming face to face with dozens of the creatures.

They look like penguins. Misshapen, evil penguins with claws and teeth, but still. They're kind of comical, but they're still trying to eat us.

Most of the group takes off at a sprint. I hang back, along with one other student, for the first charge. Two of the little monsters come straight at me. I swing the shovel at one, knocking it away. I pull my weapon back, swing it through the second one until the shovel hits sand, impaling the penguin on the blade edge.

We've given the others some time to escape, and we take off before the rest can charge. I run fast, catching up to the others and greying my vision at the edges, when it finally clicks. I'm being chased by mutant penguins. I turn around, blasting our pursuers with telekinetic energy, scattering them into the lake/ocean behind their hills.

I've still got to find Walms, but I'm not trusting my abilities with portals lately, so I try to find one that's already active. I walk right past what might be a stargate, and look out through the windows built into the walls of the hill building I'm in.

When I look back, I see Marge Cartwright and her youngest daughter, sitting in chairs that have appeared around the room. Cartwright's eldest was in my graduating class. I say something to the effect of "Another Other Mother?" and claw my way out through the plastic-covered window.

I try to imagine a great fall out of the window, so I can get into another setting, maybe a skyscraper, but I fall four feet into the sand and land hard. I can feel the impact. Ow. I keep exploring the dream-setting.

I escape from a prison using a tazer and a group of accomplices, pick a car in the parking lot and drive it through an iron fence, and have to drive it away with an invisible hand because it won't take much more damage. While we wait for the car to get repaired, I explore an underground fairy hutch and almost get trapped inside.

Penguins. Scare Factor: 3.[/QUOTE]

My team saves a little girl's life while we steal something from her father.

I'm cycling away from Vancouver, eastwards. There are people shuffling down the road on foot, heading into the city. One of them makes a grab at my bike, and I punch him, knocking him over. A few people pass me, on bikes themselves, and an older woman tells me I shouldn't hesitate to take them out if they try to grab me. A skinny bald man further up the road is moving into my path, and I hold out an arm to clothesline him, but he stumbles away at the last second.

People are still shuffling around, but they're a little more zombie-like now. Two people are holed up in a lab, a guy with shoulder-length black hair wearing a leather jacket, and the main character from Zombieland. We have a few frantic fight scenes. I end up throwing hard punches at the zombies and wishing I had a shotgun, but punching them tends to stun them for a few seconds, so that's something. A zombie with tangled curly hair, a bigger guy, rushes us, and I accidentally tear off the bandages covering his mouth. He tries to bite me, and I swing a computer moniter into his head repeatedly, until he stops twitching.

We have to get something from the control room, so I'm rappelling down a wide chute, in circles around the wires coming from the centre. I realize too late that going in circles means that I have less rope, and I'm several metres from the ground when I run out. Climbing out the vertical hole, about twenty metres, would be practically impossible, so I untangle myself from the harness and drop to the floor. I land easily. I see a flash of what's on the other side of the exit, a conveyor belt leading to the zombie from before.

I hurtle out of the chute at full speed, launching myself at the zombie and aiming a punch at his jaw. My punch barely connects, and I realize too late that it's too weak to do anything. The zombie looks at me, and I've used up all my momentum; I panic. I push back at the zombie, telekinetically blasting it into the wall, splattering its brains over the metallic surface.

Abruptly, I realize that I'm dreaming, and I walk to the control room, throwing zombies through the walls as they try to approach. I'm having so much fun, and the remaining zombies scatter like leaves, though their landings are bloodier. I reach my destination and find a zombie!GIR and zombie!Yoda standing there waiting for me. They've gotten bigger. I try to toss them away with TK, but the move barely pushes them a few centimetres. The pair stalks menacingly toward me.

I'm lucid, though, and decide this is a complete waste of time. I decide to ignore the pair and go look for Walms. I look away from the bizarre zombies and make for the exit. Zombie!GIR is a green couch bumping up against my leg.

I'm waking up. I try to stabilize, but fail.

New dream. We're survivors in an art gallery IN SPACE while running a pet shop. We find other survivors on earth and establish an alliance. My cousins want to look at the fish.

I have the wrong prescription for contacts and I'm running away from a government conspiracy with my family. Or monsters, maybe. My brother wants to know why this is necessary.

My luggage is too heavy, after I get off the bus, but I find that if I lean a certain way, I start floating along automatically. I run into Milly's mom, Pat Green*, and we go for lunch at a vegetarian cafe.

*From high school. You realize I'm making all these names up, right?

Zombieland. Scare Factor: 3.

We're driving down the highway in a tan-coloured Oldsmobile. The driver seems to think the speed limit is optional, which really wouldn't bother me, only he doesn't actually have his license yet. Also, he doesn't seem to be in control of the vehicle, if the wildly oscillating steering wheel is anything to go by.

"Whoa! Whoa!" I shout from the backseat. "Oncoming train, ONCOMING TRAIN!"

"Ben, stop," says my mom from the passenger seat.

Ben reluctantly brings the car to a stop before we get to the train tracks. I breathe out a sigh of relief and glare at my brother.

"You know," says the fifteen-year-old comfortably, "Sam could totally supervise my driving -"

"NO!" My mom and I say simultaneously.

Ben slouches in his seat and gets the car moving again, now that the train's past. The car gradually speeds up, and he throws my mom a look that reads See? I can totally drive without giving Sam a heart attack.

A copse of trees blocks the road a little bit farther along. It's night. We need to hike through the trees in order to get to the road on the other side.

We're not a few steps in before I can feel a tingling feeling up my spine. I sense a malicious intent, which lingers, as if the blood that's been spilled here has never properly washed away.

"We should hurry," I say quietly. "This isn't a good place." I should know, this is my dream after all. Vaguely, I wonder if this is going to turn into a nightmare. If it is, am I sensing evil, or creating it?

There are men sleeping, haphazardly strewn over the grass-covered ground in various garishly coloured sleeping bags. I hurry Mom and Ben along, out of the campsite through a path in the bushes. I know it the moment the men wake up.

"Go! Go! I'll meet you at the car!" I shout at my family. Somewhere between eight and a dozen men come rushing onto the path, heedless of my attempts to block them. I can't move, I can't shout, I'm completely helpless -

"KIYA!" I lace a high-pitched shout with all of my fear and anger, forcing the men's attention onto me. I move out into the middle of the clearing, still pulling their attention, focusing on the present rather than the danger that faces the others. I need to be able to move.

"KIYA!" I shout in challenge, feeling ridiculous, catching a third-person view of myself as Eliza Dushku.

A man runs at me, using his momentum - and considerable bulk - to ready a skull-crushing punch. I sidestep. He misses. I use his momentum against him, throwing him out of the way.

It's on.

Another man rushes me. I catch him by the arm, twist, breaking it. I throw him over my shoulder and he crashes to the ground, where I aim a kick at his neck, killing him instantly.

Two come at me. I send one stumbling with a kick to the solar-plexus. He trips over the corpse and I disable the other one with a ridge-hand strike to the throat, crushing the windpipe. He collapses to the ground, gasping for air, and I'm already rushing a stunned thug, sweeping his legs out from under him. I pound three high-powered kicks into his left temple before he can blink.

A thug is picking himself up from beside his friend's corpse, looking enraged. I'm behind another one, hand across jaw, and I pull, breaking his neck. I don't see Trippy until he has a hand around my throat, lifting me until my toes barely brush over the ground. I twist, tearing - tiger claw - rigid fingers across his face, ripping into flesh. His grip slackens and I turn around to meet another attack, evading arms and deftly clawing an eye out of its socket. He's out of the fight.

One of the smarter ones is readying an incantation - I'm in front of him. I grab, twist, tear his arm off, leave him to bleed out.

Another. I aim a kick for his groin, surprised when I hit the inner thigh. Hard. Time slows for the others, and I admonish myself for losing focus. Concentrate on the dream. I pull my leg in, I lash out with a side-kick to the groin. He's down. I smash his head in.

I hear a dark chuckle from across the clearing. Trippy is struggling to his feet, one hand pressed against his bleeding face. He laughs. I want to know what's so funny.

"You think we're monsters." He laughs again, eyes closed for a moment.

He's down before he knew what hit him. I kick him repeatedly, into the gut, into the side of his head, until he's nothing but a mangled corpse leering at me with a dead grin.

I put down the others with brutal efficiency.

I meet Ben and Mom at the car, which happens to be a Chevy Impala. Not meeting their eyes, I mention that we're going to have to wipe down the car, inside and outside. Apparently it was used to run over people while I wasn't looking. I'll have to dispose of these clothes, too. They're black, so I can't see the blood-spatter, but I just murdered a bunch of unarmed humanoids, and there was blood spraying everywhere, so -

"I'll clean the car," says my brother.

I take a deep breath. "Yeah. We should go."

---

Some time later, I meet up with an alternate version of my mom, driving the Oldsmobile. We talk about the forest/campground, but she isn't entirely sure what I'm talking about. In her world, we kept driving right past the damned place.

I get to thinking about alternate endings...

---

They have Ben. My mom has disappeared, but they have Ben and he's a prisoner of these things and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

There's a young boy, maybe ten, being carried from some kind of ceremony, half naked. I have a bad feeling about this.

I take a breath, calm my mind. I can stay out of sight for now, wait for an opportunity to rescue him. I'm practically incorporeal right now; it's not like I could do much anyway. Although, I think, as I watch them drag my struggling brother out of sight, waiting could be easier said than done.

---

Colourful round wooden tables are interspersed throughout the clearing. I couldn't see the place before I followed Ben in. My brother is sitting at one of the tables, eating the same grilled cheese sandwiches as all the other humans. On his left is the vampire he's been bound to, and on his right, a human slave, eying the former nervously.

I get a bit of insight from the slave, who, apparently, was a member of the local Resistance before he was captured. He still hasn't quite lost the suicidal tendencies.

"You realize," he says to Ben, keeping his voice low so the vampire won't notice, "That these things are just using you, right? We need to fight them."

Ben snorts. "You're just saying that because they're planning to eat you."

Apparently they keep humans as cattle. Charming.

Also, Ben's been brainwashed. This could be a problem.

---

I'm watching the loading area, a gravel parking lot leading into the back doors of the complex. An Oldsmobile drives in. I move closer.

A group of three or four slaves is conversing with the driver. One of them was talking to Ben earlier. Kel, I think his name was. I recognize the leader of the group: Damon. Fanatic.

"What do you want with the Aur'i, Reader?" Damon asks, as my mom steps out of the car.

"Your masters have taken one of our own." Mom tells them coldly. "We want him back."

Fuck me. Readers' powers are the opposite of my own, divine while mine are hell-powered, and they're positively toxic to the Aur'i (vampires). They're more of an allergy, for me.

"The boy, yes?" says Damon, "What of the girl?"

Ah, the Dushku persona.

"Not one of ours," Mom says, "She didn't violate the Accords by attacking you."

"A pity," says Damon. "I'll pass along your message to our Masters. You may leave now."

Ignoring the slight, Mom tips her head and goes back to the car.

Damn it. I've got to get her a message before she leaves. I take off along the side of the complex.

---

"Sokka Katara Sam!" Ben gasps, clutching his head. I hear him, glad that he's finally broken through the mind control.

Lay low.

---

I break out into a full-on sprint, moving as quickly as I can around the back corner of the loading bay. When I stop, I hardly even notice that I'm not out of breath. I wave my arms at my mom, staying carefully out of the slaves' sight.

I gesture towards some scaffolding near my hiding spot, which should be hidden from any observers. My mom exits the car and heads toward the spot I indicated, and I slink along more carefully, hidden by the various construction materials along the way.

"You had to choose this spot?" asks my mom, visibly shivering.

I'm surprised, but I look more closely at the wall. There's warding magic emanating from it.

I smile sheepishly. "I can't feel it like you do." I tell her, "My power meshes with the place."

"We'll talk about it later." She pulls an iron chain out and throws one end to me.

I catch it. It feels like ice-water is crawling over my skin.

Covered by the protection of the chain, I explain the situation, highlighting the layout of the compound and detailing Ben's chain to the Aur'i. I'm so caught up in the story that I don't notice the patrolling slaves have noticed us. Noticed the chain, rather, since we're invisible.

"That is a forbidden magic here," says Damon, indicating the iron chain.

"Is it?" I ask, adopting a really bad light Jamaican accent. "It is looped through this equipment like a spider's web."

"The reader," hisses Damon.

"You're Nomad?" asks Kel, indicating a nationality.

I glance back at Mom, but she's disappeared along with the car. Good.

I have an image of dark skin and bright colours. I take the appearance of the girl in my mind's eye and let the chain fall from my hand.

I can work with this.

I Am Legend. Scare Factor: 5.[/QUOTE]

Originally Posted by Samael

Obviously, I've been watching too much Supernatural.

I've somehow been entered into a race that involves hopping on one foot and a flutter-board. I argue that 5K is a long way to hop on one foot.


idek.

I'm crowded into the entrance of a bar. I think these are people that my brother knows. I notice that one guy is acting suspicious, so I follow him outside and onto the roof. I find him threatening another man with a knife.


You know that little voice people have that tells them to quit when they're ahead? You don't have one!

"Hey!" I call, stepping out of the shadows. Both men turn to look at me, one still brandishing his knife.

"Hey, calm down," I say, hoping that I don't sound patronizing, "There's no need for that, right? Put the knife down, and we can talk."

We circle each other, and I'm moving closer with every step to the side. The third man moves away, more or less forgotten. The man with the knife focuses all his attention on me. He's not going to listen.

I step in without warning, grab the wrist holding the knife and twist. He doesn't drop the knife, but I have a hand on it, and suddenly I can see all the outcomes of the fight at once, blood spraying everywhere. Mostly his.

I'm sitting back in the bar with a group of people that I know. I'm invisible part of the time, so I play with the DCs a bit, asking them what they're seeing as they look at me. One replies that she can see the skull of my grandmother's rotting corpse, covered in maggots. I decide that this game isn't fun anymore.

The police are all over the bar, trying to figure out what happened. The patrons are willfully ignoring them. I'm glad that I'm wearing black, because at least you can't see the bloodstains. I look down at my grey shirt, covered in blood. No, I was wearing black the whole time, I convince the dream. I get back into the story by willing myself into a different form. I decide to shift into a guy, because that's an unlikely disguise. Hey, I can be Jensen Ackles!


Yay! I'm him a lot. Why?

I consider changing eye/hair color so I don't look like an actor, but I decide that he doesn't actually exist in this universe and go talk to the cops. Because it's... fun, or something.

There's a female detective on the roof, speculating about what happened. I see these speculations in flashbacks. The girl (me) made a grab for the knife, she says, and cut her attacker, injuring him. Then he killed her, and disposed of the body somewhere.


Not nearly this cool.

I'm somewhat insulted, actually, but it helps me put the pieces together. I must have won the fight. Since the man with the knife is missing, I probably accidentally killed him and disposed of the body somewhere. Wow, do they have it backwards.

Nobody wonders where the third man went.

They're talking about fingerprints, so I decide this would be a good time to change mine. I will the change, and zoom back into watching an onscreen sequence of the patterns changing.

Skinwalkers are the bad guys, right? I wonder on the irony of shifting into Dean Winchester as a shapeshifter. Am I evil right now? Maaaybe.

I converse with the suspicious detective who probably suspects me for something. I swing around the wire fences on the rooftops for a bit, before coming back to the ground where the detective is waiting on a park bench. Apparently we had a long, in-depth conversation that I can't remember, because she actually trusts me a bit now. Yay, we're friends. Or possible love-interests. Hm.

The detective is wondering if I'll be okay to get home by myself, being as it's after dark in a city infested by the supernatural. I assure her that I'll be fine (being as I'm one of the supernatural monsters everyone seems to be afraid of). I check the area, zooming out to the east, where I'm headed. Dark alleys lit by an orange glow. I zoom out to the west, only to find a pack of Dark Jedi closing in on us, jumping around as NPCs do in Jedi Academy. I spot a couple of green and blue lightsabers among all the red, mostly carried by those wielding dual lightsabers.

"We should go," I say, still tracking the pack remotely. "We should go now." I'm more concerned about the detective than myself. I heal fast.

We walk eastwards away from the group, hoping that we won't bait them if we don't run away.

They catch up to us. Immediately, I draw dual sabers in red and blue, slashing down the first two Dark Jedi to reach us. I take down another, still standing protectively in front of the detective. I rush out past a female Dark Jedi, striking her in the back before she can turn. Finally, there are two left. I face the leader and send one of my sabers flying at his remaining minion. She's down. I rush the leader with a flurry of strikes.

No effect.

I pause in my offensive. "Okay," I tell him, "That was at least three direct strikes to your neck, minimum. You should be dead." He just grins.

A blow to the arm, and I have him disarmed. I grab him by the hair and slash across his neck. "Are. You. Dead. Yet?" I ask the disembodied head. That would be a yes.

Also, fail for lack of gore.

I'm covered in blood, so I figure now is a good time for a tactical retreat. We make it to the Best Western where I've made a reservation. I figure we have a half hour to shower and make ourselves presentable (read: not covered in blood) before the antagonists start to come after us.

"I'd offer 'ladies first'", but I'm the one who looks like a walking horror movie right now."

Unfortunately, I'm really bad with numbers when I'm dreaming, so we end up wandering the halls looking for the hotel room. Which is on the third floor. No, the first. No, the second. Wait, are we in a hostel?

Skinwalkers. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: Violence is fun.[/QUOTE]