Pervading Interactive Stress Syndrome (PISS)

Part 3

 

            Christine woke up feeling extremely troubled. Her head bothered her, she felt slightly nauseated and, worst of all, she, the Dreamweaver, who had no dreams of her own, had had a nightmare of epic proportions.

            Then, again, she thought to herself, it wasn't so much a nightmare as it just was a scary feeling. She shivered a little as remnants of that feeling of dread, of fear, of...badness encompassed her again for a moment. She took that moment to leap out of bed, hurriedly dress herself and run into the hallway to Daina's room.

            She found Naomi lying on Daina's bed and, for lack of a better idea, went over and hugged Naomi, burying her face into Naomi's side.

            "Ahhh, kids...oh, man!" said Naomi, flailing slightly as if Christine's very presence disgusted her.

            "Stop it; I'm sad," said Christine.

            "Oh," said Naomi, becoming serious. She sat up slowly, gingerly putting an arm around Christine as if she weren't used to doing such a thing. "What's wrong?"

            "Nothing. Where's Daina?" she asked.

            "Deeply troubled and hangin' with Jerry," Naomi replied. "What do you need?"

            "Nothing," Chris mumbled. On any other day, Naomi might've searched Christine's face for traces of the truth, but Chris could tell that Naomi was preoccupied with Daina and not feeling too well on top of that.

            "In that case," said Naomi, "why don't you go over to Jerry's with Josh and make sure he and Stevie stay out of trouble?"

            "'Kay," Chris shrugged noncommitantly.

            "Now?" Naomi added.

            "O-kay!" She shuffled off toward the door to Jerry's subconscious and began to walk the intricately designed rainbow lattice of mental energy known as the Link to Jerry's side. As she looked at the tunnel around her, she slowly began to notice a very minute difference. The closer she came to Jerry's side of the Link, a light change in color began to occur in the walls. Darker hues of the rainbow colors slowly, almost imperceptibly began to swirl into the interwoven rainbow fibers. Christine stopped to touch the walls and almost recoiled in terror. Something was different on Jerry's side of the Link, something that she'd felt occasionally, but never really thought about. The feeling she'd had when she woke up earlier came back to her in a rush and she blocked it out magically, trying to keep it from attacking her like it had in her dream.

            She ran for the door in a panic. She had to leave the Link, make it to Jerry's side before it got to her. She ran, faster and faster until she thought she might cry out when she finally reached the door handle, then she yanked it open and flew through it into the safety of Jerry's subconscious mind...and into the arms of Alan.

            She couldn't speak for a moment, which was alright, since he looked almost as surprised to see her as she was to see him. It didn't take him long, however, to pick up on her fear like a bloodhound and begin to grin at her nefariously.

            "Going somewhere?" he asked.

            Christine's jaws moved but no sound came forth.

           

 

            Jerry looked at Daina with a deep sigh. She was sleeping and this was probably a good thing. She had made no sense for most of the hour that they'd been in this dark and somewhat foreboding place, but at least she hadn't performed any more feats of superhuman strength on him. She was obviously not herself and definitely under a major amount stress.

            He stood up and looked around himself. The Forest, as it had been called, was exceedingly dark. No light penetrated through the trees, if there was any light at all, and in this darkness, he had heard several unseen creatures moving around. The area he and Daina were in remained lit from the ball of light hovering slightly above his head that he'd created earlier, but somehow, he was still ill at ease.

            He wasn't bothered by the darkness itself; actually, he rather liked it. He would've liked to go prowling about in the dark, listening to the sounds the Forest made and becoming one with the night (or day, he wasn't sure). The problem was Daina. She couldn't possibly take care of herself like this and, much as he wanted to, he couldn't just leave her. Friendship had such ties on a person's loyalties. He knew nothing of this area and its inhabitants, which meant that sometime soon, he would probably find out just how many of them were actually afraid of light. He could protect himself and probably Daina for a while, but if the numbers became overwhelming...

            He decided not to think about that as he turned back to his friend. She was still sleeping, which, as he heard a twig snap very near him, he was now realizing was not much help at all.

            Reluctantly, Jerry's crouched near her slumbering body and let loose a low warning growl...

 

 

            Naomi whimpered in agony. Creating doors in Daina's subconscious was not her idea of a good time. It took mental energy that was not hers and caused a great deal of mental pain, which was. She couldn't understand why it hurt her to use something that was supposed to be imaginary, anyway, but she supposed that was just the way it was, or, to use one of Daina's phrases, "Sometime it just be's like that".

            Besides, Daina would have been twisted enough to put in some sort of thing that made anybody trying to use her imagination suffer ungodly amounts of pain, which she was. Actually, Naomi thought with a small smirk, I would be twisted enough to do the same thing. Maybe evil is contagious.

            Then, again, I'm not exactly evil; just mischievous, she thought. Although I have no problem with it, personally. After all, there's lots of evil things to do in this world that are really a lot of fun, if you can get past the moral standpoint. She recognized this as a bizarre thrill of hers, but shrugged it off as nothing. It wasn't as if she lusted after seeing others in pain or distress; it was more of a deep seated curiosity in their reactions.

            Naturally, her mind wandered to Alan. Past his permanent sulk, he was actually pretty good at making people suffer, when he set his mind to it. But even he wasn't completely evil, much as he wanted to be, or thought he was. Pure evil had no fear except in the face of pure good and Naomi could only think of one person who'd ever had that quality, or, for that matter, even came close right now.

            She frowned. Where was Christine, anyway?

 

 

            Christine, at that moment, was sprite-sized and shrieking hysterically to be let out of Alan's top jacket pocket. He was reading a book, which wasn't unheard of for him, but was certainly odd enough to mark the occasion. Every few moments or so, he would grin, pat his hand just hard enough over his pocket to hurt her and say, "Shut up, listen to this" and then tell Christine of yet another wonderful sprite torture he'd just read about. He was purposely taking his time and she knew it.

            She began to sob. Everything was hopeless. Alan had made her become this small, then taken a huge paper clip and pinned her wings together with it, causing some minor, but painful wing damage and definitely making any position inside his stuffy pocket uncomfortable. She couldn't call to Daina or anyone for help because she was in Jerry subconscious and she couldn't move around very much, or the weight of the clip would pull her wings right out of her back.

            Her fear of Alan was more debilitating than all else, however, and knowing that frightened her even more. Every time he hit her or grabbed her, there was the pain, but there was also the scary black feeling she'd had in her dream, the feeling she'd had in the Link. It was so scary that she'd always put up a barrier near him, a magic one that kept most of the feeling away, blocked it out each time he touched her. If it was that bad while she was blocking it, who knew what would happen if she let it hit her full force?

            He must have read her mind, because he'd kept teasing her at first, pretending to nearly touch her just to watch her flinch. Then he'd told her to get small until he figured out what to do with her. As long as she continued to do what he wanted her to do, she wouldn't have to have him touch her, at least not right now, she hoped.

            "Oh, this one is definitely it," Alan said, laughing as he took her roughly out of his pocket and set her on the table. She wailed as the clip pulled at her wings and the black feelings clouded her mind again.

            Alan rolled his eyes irritably. "Would you shut up, already; I'm tired of hearing you whine!" he groaned. "It's always me, me, me with you! 'Let me go, Leave me alone, Help me, somebody'...think about my needs, here! I haven't even begun to seriously hurt you yet and you're wasting your voice on all this menial pain! I'll be bored by the time I tear your wings out."

            "My wings???" Chris gasped through her tears.

            "Oh, yeah," Alan grinned. "That's the thing I was gonna tell you about." He looked up at the ceiling fan, then back at her and said, "Maybe I should just show you."

 

 

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