The Onset of A Panic Situation

Part 8

            I woke in my subconscious room in bed, trying to remember what happened. The last thing I could remember was Jerry yelling and some girl telling me I was too good...

            "Oh, man, the Link!" I exclaimed. I jumped up and went so fast into the hallway that I nearly ran Christine and Naomi over. They were both staring at the spot where the Link door should've been in mild surprise. In its place was a ragged hole as if an explosion had ruined it.

            "Where's the door?" I asked.

            "About to ask you the same question," Naomi said, turning as if I'd been there all along.

            "What are you doing up?" Christine asked.

            "I didn't know I wasn't allowed," I replied. I peered past the two into the Link and gasped. Parts of it were still intact, but it looked like it had barely survived Vietnam. Large holes and gaps stood in it, revealing large spaces of absolute Nothing.

            "That's scary," I shivered, backing up.

            "No, scary is the fact that we ran in there to drag your ass out," Naomi replied.

            "Drag me out?"

            "You were in there going insane, so I carried you out and Christine..." Naomi shrugged.

            "I sat down and was nice to you," Chris explained. "Somebody was trying to make you be evil all at once, like Alan almost did to me. It made me act really weird, like you, so I gave you good dreams and good feelings for a while until you stopped talking weird and went to sleep."

            "Thanks," I nodded. "What about Jerry?"

            "What about him?" Naomi asked.

            "Wasn't he with me?" I asked. Both of them shook their heads "no". "I gotta go back and get him, then!" I exclaimed, pushing past them to the Link.

            "Now?" Christine asked. "You just got back and you might not be ready..."

            "You want I should wait 'til he calls me up and says he's at death's door?" I asked sarcastically.

            "Well, no...."

            "Then wait for me and keep those happy thoughts warm," I waved, turning back to the tattered remains of the Link. It was impossible to walk through, so with a deep breath, I made myself sprite sized and flew as fast as my wings could carry me to the other side.

            His door was intact, so I had to grow back to get it open. I was really expecting to see Jerry's side looking fairly devastated, but the only thing I saw was darkness, at first. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a small pool of light illuminating a familiar looking recliner.

            Sitting in that recliner was Jerry.

            He was bleeding, or just had bloodstains on himself, but he didn't seem to notice. He just sat, slouching somewhat in the chair with an evil leer on his face. And this wasn't his ordinary evil leer; this one made me think he was Lucifer himself.

            I was actually scared to approach him, but I had no choice. He definitely couldn't stay like this, whatever the problem was.

            I walked up to him and cleared my throat. "Uh, Jerry? Jerry, man, you okay?"

            The phrase "there is no Jerry, only Zool" ran through my mind as he slowly looked up at me. His smile broadened and he said,

            "Daina. I thought you were dead."

            I raised my eyebrows at him. "You thought I was dead? Try not to mourn the loss so much," I said wryly.

            "Come sit with me," he said, as if I hadn't even spoken.

            Had his head spun around squirting out green slime, I would not have been the least bit surprised. "Sit with you?" I echoed.

            He patted his lap and extended his arms, "Right here."

            "Are...are you okay?" I asked, feeling stupid for even asking such a question.

            "Uh-huh," he said slowly, his grin widening. "Except one thing."

            "What's that?"

            "I want to hurt you really bad and I don't think you're going to be nice and just let me, so I'll probably have to make you let me hurt you," he sighed sadly.

            I blinked. This was as weird a moment with him as I had ever had and I did not wish to continue it. "I gotta jet, babe," I began, turning to go. A shot a pain went up my spine and I was frozen in place.

            "Don't go," Jerry said behind me. "I really want to sit with you."

            "Jerry," I said, grimacing in pain, "you don't have to hurt me to get me to sit with you."

            "I shouldn't have to, but I do. Sit," he said, and my knees gave out so that I hit the floor. The pain went away and I gasped.

            "Jee-zus..." I began, and he said,

            "Now, listen, I really would like your permission to hurt you, because, after all, we are friends and..."

            "Friends don't have to hurt each other," I reminded him.

            "Let me finish," he said, the word "finish" punctuated with another quick bolt of pain up my back. I cried out and he continued, "And I don't want to do something to you that you don't want me to do."

            "Okay," I said, beginning to number off my demands on my fingers, "I don't want you to use pain to get my attention anymore or to get me to do what you want, like listen or sit down. I don't want you to hurt me at all and I do want you to stop acting like a psycho."

            Jerry looked at me tersely for a moment. Then, in less time than it took me to blink, he jumped me and wrapped his fingers around my throat "Tell me if this hurts," he said, "because I know you don't want me hurting you." I couldn't even breath, let only speak, so he smiled and said, "Yes? No? I guess you're okay, then. You haven't said anything..."

            "You're hurting her, let her go!" The voice came from Jerry's mouth, but it was undoubtedly Stevie's. Jerry let go and a wild look of fear grew on his face.

            "Stevie?" I gasped, trying to breathe. He stared at me as if afraid to speak and crouched like a frightened child against his recliner. "Stevie, is that you?"

            "Daina?" he almost whispered, voice trembling and eyes brimming. "I'm scared in here. I...I wanna come with you."

            "How did you get in there?" I asked, peering intently at his face.

            "That lady...she tried to make me go away...but I'm a'posed to protect Jerry from bad stuff...so I hid with him. But now there's too much and...and I can't do it, I'm no good!" Stevie's tears began to pour down Jerry's face and I couldn't restrain the urge to hug him. I extended my arms to him and he nearly leapt away from the chair into them.

            "It's okay, Stevie, you're doing fine," I said, holding him tight.

            "They're trying to kill me, Daina," he wailed. "They don't want me telling Jerry to be good."

            "Just hang on and I'll try to help you, Stevie, I promise..."

            "Don't help," came Alan's voice, as Jerry shoved me away. "We don't need help. Julie' s the best thing that happened to us since I came."

            "If she's so great, then why were you screaming for us to not let her take you?" I asked.

            Alan faltered. "Because...I...because I was...in pain," he said, as if trying to remember.

            "Exactly, Alan, and you hate pain, remember?" I said. "You hate it a lot. And she must have made you one helluva lot to forget that. That's called brainwashing, Alan. How long before she decides it's time to refresh your memory, huh? What happens when you decide you really did like being you without having to do it through Jerry? What happens when Stevie goes completely away and you can't ever get him or his innocence back?"

            "Shut up!!!" Jerry yelled at me, and I knew it was really him. He jumped up and began shouting at me. "Shut the fuck up! Maybe I just want to be evil, okay? Maybe I can't stand life without it! Maybe my whole purpose in life is to spend every waking minute doing something cruel and unusual to someone on this planet and you just so happen to be closest!"

            "Or maybe you're trying so hard to make yourself believe in all this that you're ranting and raving for nothing," I suggested quietly.

            Jerry's jaw dropped and I really thought I had him. He looked at me with the same look I probably had when somebody was messing with my mind and I held out a hand to him. "Jerry," I said softly. "Come on."

            He grabbed my throat, however, and that was not part of the plan at all. Once again, my world began to fog up on me, but I could see that Jerry's face was totally confused.

            Oh, good, I thought to myself as my consciousness faded. Maybe he'll get it together enough to be really sorry he killed me...

 

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