Marisol woke up. No - not awake. She was asleep and this place was a dream. A very realistic dream, but a dream nonetheless. Realistic enough that she could die here. At least, Marisol thought she could. Her broken arm as a girl was testament to the fact that she could get hurt here.
Marisol hated it here. It was so creepy. Everything was still and quiet. It reminded her of that old horror movie where they couldn’t talk at all because the monsters hunted by sound. And the light source wasn’t a sun or lamp. There was just sort of an ambient light that lit everything. And no matter what, Marisol felt like she was being watched.
She was in her apartment building - some dream semblence of it. Her apartment itself was actually only an empty space without furniture and everything was insanely clean. She wasn’t a slob by any means, but still this just made the place seem even more empty. If she wasn’t going to have weird dreams why couldn’t they at least include a cute guy to give her a massage or something.
”Christ, I haven’t even been on a date in years,” she said, her voice seeming to echo in the silence.
It was a true statement. Marisol had been focused on her career. So much so, that she had been promoted to detective quickly and sworn in only last night. She was currently trying to sleep off the drinks from the bar that her coworkers had taken her out for to celebrate. Even at the bar she couldn’t find a man to have a drink with. Being one of a few women who were involved in law enforcement, she had been well protected last night. Maybe next time she’d ask one of them to be a wingman.
Her thoughts came back to where she was and looking down she noticed her outfit changing constantly from a patrol uniform to a detective’s suit, complete with badge and sidearm. Marisol closed her eyes and thought for a bit, and upon opening them she saw herself in jeans and a light blue t-shirt. Marisol then headed outside here apartment, making her way to the street. Occasionally a neighbor would pop briefly into her dream and then disappear. At one time that startled her. She’d rather be sleeping than here, but she was here and these dreams had to mean something. Perhaps she’d spend a bit of time here before “going back to her body.” These dreams had been her companion for so long. They had to mean something.
Marisol continued to walk, wondering at the quiet stillness that surrounded her. Her wandering, although random, seemed to have a purpose she did not understand. Despite ten years of being able to come here, she still didn’t understand this place. Movement made her stopped, and her guard went up. She felt a weight in her hand and looked to see that her gun was suddenly there, appearing as a reaction to her guard.
Marisol looked towards the movement and saw a single wolf there, looking briefly at her. Her breathing quickened, but her instincts told her the wolf wouldn’t hurt her. Then as quickly as it had come, the wolf departed. Marisol took a deep breath and continued wandering, finding herself in different apartment building. A baby’s cry, caught her attention.
It’s not real…it’s just a dream! She thought futilely. She had to follow the sound.
Upon opening the door to an apartment, she found the child in a crib and something stood over it. It was small, but grotesque. It had the appearance of a badger, but one mutilated. It stood over the child, and began to reach for the child with a bloody claw.
Marisol didn’t want to shoot. She couldn’t hit the baby. Its just a dream. It’s not real! she looked around and there was a rock on the floor. Not taking the time to think about how odd that was, she picked it up and threw it at the creature.
It hissed at her as the rock it it, turning its flaming red eyes towards her. Suddenly, Marisol knew that unlike the wolf, this creature hated her, and wanted her to die.
Calvin could smell it. The nightmare was around here. He had been tracking it for a few days. It wasn’t a particularly dangerous one - probably a young one trying to grow into something more dangerous. It was looking for easy prey. When hunting nightmares, he sometimes took his wolf form in the dream. It just seemed right. Calvin could sense the pack in the dream. He could call out to them to assist in the hunt, but decided not to when he saw the woman.
She was more solid than other people in this dream. Much more like Nimeda rather than the people who randomly came into the dream world for a few moments. She was of medium height with dark hair - very pretty, but Calvin could smell the anxiety about her. He saw her tense up as she laid eyes on the wolf in front of her, moving to raise the gun in her hand before backing down. She wasn’t comfortable here. This nightmare he could handle alone - it would be better to not terrify this woman with a pack of wolves running about.
Calvin turned, not wanting to spook her more. She didn’t seem in a panic, just uneasy, but that could change really quickly. He returned to tracking, and in a short amount of time found the scent of the nightmare again. Arriving in an apartment building, Cal shifted back to his two legged form. With the confined space, it would be easier for him to do this in his human form. He was more used to it after all. He formed a gun with his mind, bringing it into being in the dream and he followed the cries of an infant.
Turning he saw the woman in the room with a nightmare standing over a crib with a wailing baby. She had a gun, but instead grabbed a rock that appeared nearby and threw it at the nightmare. It turned her eyes towards her and moved from the crib. The woman took a step back, hesitating only a second before raising the gun and firing.
Marisol watched the creature. There was hate there. She could feel it as much as anything. The creature, looked at her with spite, and she could sense it malevolence - it's anger at having it's meal interrupted. Marisol put things together quickly, understanding that she had indeed interrupted the thing as it was about to feed. Marisol took a step back as it approached, moving farther away from the crib.
Instinct honed through training took over, and she raised the gun, a .45 caliber HK USP, her chosen sidearm. She solidified her stance and fired. Her aim was true and bullets hit the creature, it screamed. She didn't stop until the the gun clicked empty. She dropped the magazine, and loaded another, just in case. The creature laid on the ground, unmoving. It was then Marisol noticed that the crib itself had disappeared. Confused, she looked around, finally seeing someone in her peripheral. Marisol gave herself space, not raising the firearm, but holding it ready just in case.
The man was taller than her by about a head. He had dark hair beginning to gray, but the most obvious physical trait were eyes that glowed yellow. Marisol didn't let the fear she felt show, but kept her eyes on the man. "Who are you? She demanded. "And why are you here?"
The woman fired a full magazine at the nightmare. Her stance and aim showed she knew how to handle the weapon. Reloading showed that she was cautious. The woman had training, that was a surety. Calvin let his own weapon disappear as she began to look around the room. The cradle with the child were gone. With the nightmare gone, its grip on the child had waned and the child was likely awake.
The woman caught a glimpse of Calvin in her peripheral, and Calvin was glad he had let his own weapon. In fact this was the reason. Calvin could smell the fear and anxiety the woman felt. Her face showed none of this, reinforcing the idea she had training. Her clothing was shifting between her civilian clothes, a detective’s suit, and a patrol cop’s uniform. She was a cop.
Cal raised his hands, showing he wasn’t armed. ”Don't worry. I’m on your side.” he said with a disarming smile. ”Cal Johnson, and I’m here because I’ve been tracking the nightmare you just killed.”
Marisol kept her gun in hand, ready to raise it should the need arise, but deep down she knew the man - Cal - was being honest with her. She narrowed her eyes at his choice of words though. The creature was a nightmare? Nightmares weren't real. Marisol looked around though. This was a world of dreams - she herself had gotten hurt in this dream. Could Cal really be telling the truth.
She looked at him, with his golden eyes - very unnatural. Was this guy some type of dream too? She was here - others could be too. Marisol had no idea what any of this meant. She took a step back, giving herself a little distance, but trying to make it to where she had an out in case this man wasn't all he had seemed.
Marisol met his gaze and spoke words she knew to be untrue. "Nightmares aren't real." Her face betrayed her lack of belief on the statement. "Where did the baby go?" She didn't offer him anything about her own identity. Questions came naturally to her at a time like this. She was a detective gathering information.
Restlessness tugged at Kiyohito’s mind while his body was all but dead to the world.
He was walking through an apartment building. The halls were strangely endless, and while familiar, he couldn’t quite remember if he’d been here before.
Yet some subconscious purpose kept his stride going forward. He couldn’t be late. He would shame his family greatly with such a disrespectful gesture. Yet as he climbed a set of metal stairs in a hollow stairwell, he wasn’t sure where he was meant to go. Only that he had to be there.
He picked a floor at random, emerging into a hallway that seemed exactly the same as the one below.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang from a nearby apartment. The door was open, and he rushed in, worried that it was his fault. Death was following him, pushing him into an abyss of guilt.
He found two strangers standing in a nursery. Kiyohito’s heart nearly stopped, his usually pensive gaze now wide with surprise. The mother held a gun. The other man, large and muscular, stood over her with authority. He spoke in English despite his distinctly Japanese appearance, and an explanatory scene formed in his imagination.
He rushed to the woman’s side, placing his body in front of her, holding her back with an arm.
“Leave her alone!” his orders cut like a sword slicing the air.
Cal kept his hands raised, showing that he had no desire to threaten. At this point he just wanted to ease the woman’s mind. She was wary - very wary - almost bordering on fear. Still she kept it in check. ”this place isn’t a normal dream. And nightmares are very real and very dangerous. The child woke up - she’s not here anymore. She’s safe.” The woman’s decisive nature has saved the child.
Before the woman could respond, another entered the room, screaming at Cal to leave her alone. From an outsider’s persepective, he could see how this situation would look. A larger man standing over a smaller woman who was armed. The man’s conjecture made sense.
Cal raised his hands higher. “”I wasn’t hurting or threatening the young lady.” he said calmly. Damn now he had two people to calm down.
Marisol shivered slightly, knowing Cal was right. She didn’t like it, but it was true. She took another look at the nightmare. It was conveniently gone. This place was so strange. Cal’s explanation for where the child went made sense too, but before she had a chance to respond another entered the room.
The man came to her side, holding her back with his arm and telling Cal to leave her alone. It was clear this man hadn’t seen the whole interaction and drew an incorrect conclusion. Marisol didn’t know what to think of Cal, but she was beginning to think he wasn’t here to harm her, and had maybe even told through truth about hunting a nightmare.
Cal raised his hands, showing the newcomer his lack of weapons as well and explaining he wasn’t trying to harm her. She put her gun in its holster (her outfit had shifted back to the detective’s suit). “He wasn’t trying to hurt me,” she said, placing a hand gently on the newcomers shoulder. ”He was trying to stop the nightmare.”
Kiyohito studied the man and woman carefully, observing their posture and expressions, searching for signs of honesty in the way they carried themselves.
Only when the woman seemed to truly relax—her appearance shifting as if shedding a mask—did he allow himself to believe their words. He gave a subtle nod of acceptance.
Their strange explanation lingered in his mind, prompting him to glance around, half-expecting the spirit they spoke of to materialize from the walls. He remembered distant childhood tales of baku—the mythical eaters of nightmares, summoned to guide the restless back into peaceful slumber. Perhaps this man, with his piercing yellow eyes, knew the ancient words of summoning.
Kiyohito dipped his head in contrition, swift apologies spilling forth. “I am disgraced. How might I atone for such an offensive assumption?” He addressed the man directly, sensing it was he whom he had dishonored.