Part 4: Beyond Dreamscape free porn video

Part 4: Beyond Dreamscape By Diana Kimberly Heche No one heard from Alex at all these days, not even Lucy. That is why she was surprised to hear his voice on the other end when she picked up the line. "Lucy?" he asked this almost tentatively as if he'd forgotten her voice. His sounded hoarse. "Yes, Alex. It's good to hear from you again." She was unsure how to respond to her brother now, only hoping he was having one of his lucid episodes. There haven't been many of those in the four months since his son, Joshua, disappeared while walking back from school. "Have you heard the one about the priest?" he asked. This sounded like the beginning of a bad joke, but Lucy couldn't be sure. Alex willfully spoke in riddles and rhymes even during the times he was "with it". "Are you okay Alex? Is everything..." she didn't want to say all right, for she knew it was far from it, "in control over there?" "If you're asking if I'm fucked up on some drugs, or if I'm out of my mind, no. No I'm not. I just happened to be watching Channel 2 this afternoon. Have you heard the one about the priest?" "No Alex, I haven't." Lucy's heart was breaking as she waded through this excruciatingly difficult conversation, longing for her brother to heal. However it was near impossible as long as everyday for him was filled wondering if an officer was going to walk through that door and deliver the news that his son was dead. Or worse. "Well, it turns out he killed himself." "Priest... killed himself... you don't mean Father McCormick do you? Oh my god. Oh dear god. It can't be... it can't be. I thought priests didn't kill themselves, it was a mortal sin..." As soon as she said this she regretted it. "More of a mortal sin than helping the Damned On Earth live in the stolen body of another? More than molesting some thirty odd kids, repeatedly, over a period of decades? You mean more of a mortal sin than those things?" He was angry, hurt and broken. His voice cracked as he spoke. "Come on Alex, we never believed that stuff in the first place." "You never believed. Trying to link it with LM in some spooky stupid way. But even he knew it." "He" would be Father McCormick himself, the central figure in the most scandalous, and long to be discussed, cases of multiple child molestation ever seen. Six months ago, children in the priest's parish began to remember, suddenly, but independently, of episodes where the priest had indecent relations with them. Each child's memory was as vivid as it was sudden, holding up to lie detector tests and hypnotic memory retrieval. After denying it for some months, a mental block was just as surprisingly removed from the priest's memory, in the middle of an interrogation, as the memories came flooding into his mind. He confessed tearfully and completely, to it all. But even with a confession, this celebrated case was not without the legions of critics. They pointed to the complete lack of physical evidence. Not a single child examined looked as though they had ever been harmed. And the manner in which they all remembered at once, lent itself more to a mass hysteria, than an actually flood of suppressed memories. And the children's memories themselves were too vivid and too detailed. Memory is not concrete, it's fluid and changes over time, and these were more like replays on a video. They also believed the priest wasn't having true memories. When he was questioned roughly in his sleep deprived state, they speculated he began to believe what every one else was telling him: he was a child molester and came forward with what he believed, even though it was patently false. More so, the critics note the entire thing was set into motion by, what the prosecution even admitted was a dubious ex-con, with more than an axe to grind. But in the end, none of that mattered. The priest was disgraced and on the very day Alex's son disappeared, he was jailed. Unable to stand what he had done, apparently, he just killed himself. The entire thing made Lucy's heart heavy. She owed a lot to Father McCormick who helped guide her when she needed spiritual help the most. But as terrible as it was, she would mourn later. Now was a rare opportunity to speak to her brother. "How about you? How are you doing? Have you learned anything new about Joshua?" "How I am doing? I'm doing just fucking great. My wife calls me every day to tell me she is going to sue me for the 'child murderer' I am, and everyday I see someone who I think is Joshua on the street. The police say they have no leads. How dare you ask how the fuck I'm doing," then he delivered the punch, "I may not be able to make a concrete connection, but I guarantee you, that you and your perverting of the laws of the universe had something to do with this. Every thing you touch has turned to shit. It is no coincidence my son went missing the day that priest got his." "But Betty and Janet seem okay -" "Betty and Janet," he spit out venomously, "just have yet to walk into the path of your destruction. Just wait, they will, it's coming, and it will be a whopper. You will eventually poison us all." "Please, Alex, I'm your brother..." He laughed bitterly. "Listen to you... Lucy Maya... female... woman. I have no brother. My brother was a man. My brother was born from my mother. You were not, and are not, those things. My brother died in a car accident. You... you are just a mistake waiting to destroy us all." The next thing Lucy heard was dial tone. *** Betty couldn't explain it, and she didn't attempt to try. This man, the one she met in the park running some weeks ago, was having an effect on her. He was magnetic, charismatic and made her feel like she was the center of the universe. They had begun meeting often, and he wined and dined her. He was polite, interesting and his stated intent was nothing more than the fact that he wanted them to be friends. Despite her lack of interest in men as a gender, his lack of interest in hers, he still made her ache with bodily desire, and she very much wanted to sleep with him just to feel his powerful presence pressed against her flesh. As silly, as impossible, and confounding as it was, she knew was in love. She was in love with someone whom she knew she could implicitly trust, someone who, despite his gender, would be the perfect match for her. Today something special was going to happen, although Betty wasn't sure quite what it could be. J. Albert (he would never tell her what they J. stood for, he said his first name embarrassed him) called her at work and insisted she arrive at her apartment around three in the afternoon. He told her he had a major surprise, and made her promise she would arrive no sooner or no later. As Betty left the Flower Day Care Center early, she found she had a skip in her walk. It couldn't be, she decided, a better day. *** As many times as Janet had been meeting Jack over the weeks in the bar they had first met each other, and this had been nearly daily, he usually made sure that her drinking was kept to a minimum. He gave many reasons for his actions; he didn't want to contribute to the delinquency of a minor, he didn't want her to go home tipsy and get caught skipping classes, but most importantly, he liked to just talk to her while she had a clear mind. But this afternoon was different. Jack bought several drinks long after the point he usually advised her to slow down. That was not the only way the day felt different. Jack was sitting closer, close enough for her to feel that powerful attraction to him she had, close enough that she could feel that she wanted him. Her mind spun dizzily as everything was different this day. For the first time since they met, Jack openly looked at the shapely roundness of her sweater, made that way from the large amount of padding underneath. Almost under his breath he said, "Oh, but only..." Janet looked into his eyes. She knew what he meant. The very first time she met him, he confessed his peculiar fetish of small-breasted women who wore highly padded bras. Over the weeks, obliquely, she asked him about this, once getting him to say "No offense, because you're lovely, but I just have a thing for that type build in a woman, and there's something sexy about knowing that kind of secret, knowing that what lies underneath is only for you..." Janet made a decision. She reached over and grabbed Jack's hand placing them on her right breast. She whispered, "If you squeeze hard enough, you'll see its all bra. Well bra and lot of gel padding, actually." Jack's hand move back down to his lap. He looked wounded, "Why are you doing this? Telling me these stories to tease me? Even if it were true, you're so young..." She placed his hand back on her breasts. Jack squeezed harder than any man not knowing they were false would dare to. The electricity jumped between them as energetically as if he were touching her naked breast. Janet leaned in, and with a wicked smile said, "Now let's go see how small my breasts really are." Jack caught the attention of the bartender and made a gesture for the check. *** Betty slid the key in the door. She was surprised to feel it was not dead bolted. It was very unusual for her not to lock the door, but she had done so once or twice in the past. Slipping in the door and kicking off her shoes, she noted the faint sound of music in the background. Tilting her head, like the old RCA phonograph ads, she could hear it was coming down the hall, from Janet's room. Even knowing what time it was, she looked at her watch. Janet was home far too early. The few times classes had been canceled or that she didn't feel up for it, she always called to let Betty know. They were not the kind of mother and daughter who kept secrets. Especially now, that they had been through so much and were so much closer after the LM and Lucy ordeal. Betty decided something was wrong. The sound of music emanating from her room meant Janet didn't feel bad. Betty's mind filled with the parental worse case scenarios, drug use, boys, or worse. Whatever it was, she didn't want to give Janet an opportunity to hide it. She quietly padded down the hall in her stocking feet and, without so much as a knock, swung open the door. Betty could not speak. On her back, facing away from Betty, was her young daughter, legs in the air spread, her clothes strewn about the bedroom. Her daughter's feet bounced in rhythm as the man on top of her, reared back slamming himself between her legs as if trying to inflict as much harm as he could in the act of sex. Although, the groans of painful joy coming from her daughter's mouth indicated nothing but pleasure. The man had locked eyes with Betty as soon as she entered the room, as if expecting her. He never stopped his thrusts even as he greeted her, "Hello Betty." Janet tilted her head to see her mother. Her eyes were glazed with an intense, odd, sexual ecstasy, looking much like a person on drugs. She too only watched her mother, half able to comprehend what was going on through the brain lock of her pure joy. With a single pelvic slam more, Jack Wallace's face jerked toward the roof as his body spasmed with climax in wave after wave. He rolled off of Janet, who was still in a drug like sexual state, not seeming to even realize where she was. Betty fought back the tears of rage, hurt and betrayal she finally was able to speak, "J -" She looked over at her daughter with concern. "Jack," he corrected, "Jack Wallace. Don't worry about your daughter, that is just the power I have when I fuck. I'm very good at it, you see. I've learned some things from... where I lived before. She will be alright shortly." Betty grabbed Jack by his arm. He quickly shrugged it off, "You could have been the one I fucked this well, if you would have been a little less of a tough nut to crack. But I got pretty close considering you don't even like men." She went to strike Jack and he easily stepped aside. Smilingly smugly he said, "Don't waste your energy on me. Take care of your daughter. She needs it. She's carrying my seed." As calmly as a man dressing in the gym after a workout, Jack put on his clothes, as Betty stood rigid in the doorway. Janet slowly came out of her clouded state. *** Lucy sat across the table from the woman, eyeing her with great interest. This woman, who would only identify herself by her first name, Kaetlin, said she had information, which Lucy would find very valuable. Lucy wanted to dismiss her as a crank, but there was something in her voice... fear perhaps... that seemed to add a sense of legitimacy to her claims. "So what is it you wanted to tell me?" Lucy asked. The thin, red haired woman looked around the cafe, eyeing each stranger with suspicion as if they were some sort of spy. It was evident to Lucy, judging by the bags under her eyes, that this woman was not getting much sleep. "I think there's someone... some people... who are targeting you... and your friends, trying to harm you. I'm... I'm fairly certain they had something to do with the priest that just died." Several alarm bells went off in Lucy's head at once. In the back of her mind, the warning from the Mexican soothsayer rang forth. Lucy asked the pressing, obvious questions on her mind, "Who are you again? And what makes you think that there is someone out to harm me and my friends?" "I'm from Florida - Miami actually. I'm here with my boyfriend, Jack Wallace. He - Jack I mean - is up to something. I have been following him around for weeks, trying to piece together what he was up to, who he was seeing. It was fairly easy at first, then one day, as if he knew what I was up to, he started doing things which made it far more difficult. Since I wasn't able to track his moves all over the city, I began following the people he followed. I'm sorry, but I had to do it. After a while, I noted they... meaning you guys... were linked. However most troubling of all, I was able to see that you were all friends of the priest that died. I can't really say how, but even before the priest died, I think Jack was the reason for his conviction." "Go on." "A few weeks before the scandal with the priest, I overheard Jack plotting with a crony of his. The priest's name came up. There were a lot of other things, 'hypnotic triggers' and the likes. It's difficult for me to recall, because they were foreign to me, to begin with." "You're telling me that this boyfriend of yours was plotting against Father McCormick? And this is the first time you've gone public." Kaetlin stammered, fumbling for a cigarette, "I didn't have anything to go on but an overheard situation that didn't make much sense. You don't know Jack, he's very powerful and persuasive. It's as if he knows things that he couldn't possibly. That is why I am so nervous now." Her shaky hand couldn't quite meet the end of the cigarette, so Lucy cupped Kaetlin's hand inside of hers to help guide it. Lucy leaned back in her chair and examined Kaetlin more closely. She was relatively young, a few years younger than Lucy in any case, attractive in a manner which she obviously tried to down play. The great distress this confession was causing her table mate, made Lucy decide that however distorted the story may be, it was on the up and up. "Jack used to be such a fine man, but he's not the same anymore. Not since he knocked his head." This intrigued Lucy, "Knocked his head?" "He fell off of a ladder, and was knocked out for awhile. When he came to, in the hospital, he wasn't the same." "How long was he out?" Lucy could feel the thin, translucent, hair on her arms stand with electricity. "Not long, less than a day. But when he came to he was different. He flew out here immediately and sprang... sprang is the wrong word... arranged probation for some ex-con. Arnie Williamson - a little creepy, intense guy. I hate him! I hate what he seems to bring out even more in Jack." For a long time Lucy could not move or speak. It was the name Arnie Williamson which froze her and closed the chasm of doubt. "Kaetlin, could you stay here for a little while? Not long. I just want to make a quick cell phone call. I may need you to verify a couple of things." Kaetlin nodded. *** Jack sat back in the leather chair, as Arnie quietly ate the microwave dinner from an end table of the couch where he sat. Jack liked Arnie. He got the job done, rarely spoke too much, and saw this as much of a mission as he did. Jack broke the silence of the plastic fork scraping against the plastic tray, "Kaetlin will lead them right to us, of course. It will take them a bit of time, however when Lucy and all of her friends gather to show each other the broken pieces of their lives, the puzzle will clearly re-assemble with me looming large. It's best that they think they are coming to me on their own. When that time comes, that person who stole my body will only have one choice." Arnie glanced up without comment. He wasn't certain how this, the last part of their plan would fall into place, but he held no concerns. Jack, that person who carried a power and knowledge from beyond life, had a way of making these things work. *** It was like a thick fog being blown slowly from the landscape of Alex's mind. The depression, heavy set and omnipresent, did not lift, nevertheless the spark of understanding gave him an outside glimmer of hope. He was surprised to hear from Lucy, especially in light of their last conversation where he clearly ejected her from his life. However she called, and before he could object, told him to simply listen, she may have an outside idea of what is happening with his son Joshua. This was enough to pause Alex long enough to hear her out. Nevertheless it was her discussion of the man from Florida, the one who banged his head and came out of a black out as a different character that caught his attention. His mind went back to a conversation he had with Dr. Wade Chang notifying him that there was a patient similar to Lucy in Miami. Thickly, for that was the way Alex spoke these days, when at all, he explained to Lucy, "There was a case in Miami of a guy who went into a coma, but no one was calling it that for potential malpractice reasons. Ask this woman if this man was in Miami General." Alex ran his hand through his hair as Lucy gave him the confirmation. "That this man, is the center of our woes is quite obviously no coincidence. That was erased the minute the bus driver's name came into the picture. As your child soothsayer in Mexico pointed out, LM has returned. Now we know where to find her... him. Maybe, there is something we can do to combat him. Maybe... god willing...get my son back. Let me research this." Alex hung up the phone. He sat awhile absorbing the information. He looked down at his pajamas, smelly from days without wash. Time to get moving, time to grasp hope, he decided. He hopped into the shower and cleansed his body, thinking through the situation the best he could. His mind, he noted, was not the sharp instrument it once was, dented and damaged by grief as well as shock. He walked into the extra bedroom, removed the clothes he had thrown onto the computer monitor (his entire apartment was a wreck) and switched it to on. "Didn't I read something a while ago that may help us...?" Alex asked to the empty room. *** This was the first time all of them had been together in one room in quite some time. The missing presence of Father McCormick, was palpable. The senses of mistrust, anger, blame toward Lucy, and grief filled the room like a poisonous gas. Only the sight of Alex, clean shaven, and coherent, although obviously heavy within the heart kept the spirits slightly buoyed. This also kept the meeting from sliding into a very dark and fast descent. "This is Kaetlin," Lucy announced by way of introduction, "who is the girlfriend of what Alex and I believe, is an old friend of ours - LM," There was an audible gasp from Janet, but not as loud as the gasp mother and daughter made after hearing: "We think he is walking around in the body of a man, but can't be sure. However, as way of hint, he's buddying around with Arnie Williamson. Plus he's picked up, or brought back, more likely, powers of influence and manipulation from the after life. We think he's a man called Jack Wallace, but again, we can only be reasonably, but not positively, sure." "Oh," began Betty, "you can be sure." She slowly, and painfully, with haltingly regretful, and resentful, interruptions of clarification from her daughter, told the story of their time dealing with Jack. A time that ended with broken hearts and pregnancy. "It's beyond influence, its near hypnotic." Betty concluded. Kaetlin, regarded the discussion of Jack being a creature of the after-life with extremely guarded caution, as she did the quite wild tale Lucy had told her of Lucy's own body possession. But any other connection between Jack, the ex-con Arnie and the priest were also preposterous in Kaetlin own mind. Jack's coming out of his unconscious state with undue influential, and sexually hypnotic, powers, left her unsure as to how else treat these stories other than with an open mind of sorts. Alex looked up from the library text he was holding while half listening to Betty's recounting. In his mind, the facts were clear. He looked to Lucy, his face weary and carrying a particular edge of regret. "Father McCormick's death, the, god knows what sort of seed planted in Janet, my missing son, the damaged psyche of those two," he gestured quickly to the daughter and mother, "and even the bus driver shooting Lucy and ending up in jail may be able to be undone. All of it." He stood up to pace the room, thinking aloud as much as talking, "So much of what I've read over the years to help Lucy, to help us, has been pure junk. Most of it wrapped in religious nonsense, pagan farce, or pseudo-scientific crud. But I have come across something a little too close to our situation to dismiss it. It covers many of the elements that we have become all to familiar with - the Dreamscape, the returning in another body, even the battle for the same body, as with LM and Lucy, before Lucy returned to earth to us after being shot. As importantly, it talks about the re-combining of a destroyed soul and the evil it will hark once brought upon our plane, this plane, in another body." He took a deep breath, "It's a friggin' text book for our very situation. At least, it seems to be." The expressions in the room did not alter much. The ugliness that lay in Lucy's wake was so great, that the hurt, and not all the supernatural mumbo jumbo, is what mattered to them the most. "Time in the after life, as Lucy already knows, appears not to move in any particular direction. There may be a way to solve this all, make it so it never happened. LM, would be back, but it would be the version of LM before rotting and darkening on the Dreamscape. A little manipulative, maybe. The kidnaper, maybe killer," at this he paused at this thought, something he never let himself previously consider, before gathering himself, "who destroys our live for sport will never come to exist. It complicated, I know, but we think its possible. If what I've read is to be trusted." Lucy surveyed this hurt. For what Alex was leaving out, is what he told her earlier. In the best case scenario, to turn back these clocks of the after life, Craig Morton in Lucy Maya's body, and LM in Jack Wallace's body, will have to die within moments of each other. The worst case scenario, and it was a big one, is none of this works, and a murder-suicide is added to the heap of tragic despair which has begun to pile up already. Adding this much hurt, making all that the others have been through, for nothing, was a heavy burden to bear. And, it could, bring eternal damnation for the soul of Craig Morton occupying this body of Lucy Maya, one quick step closer. Lucy wasn't, at this point, sure what she was going to do. But something needed to happen. Things had to be put straight. Although it was not her but Jack who was causing all of the destruction, this destruction was only being sewn by Lucy's willful skirting of the laws of the universe. After Betty and Janet left the apartment to go, as they seem to so often these days, in separate directions, Lucy brought Kaetlin and Alex into her confidence. It was this mother and daughter pain, coupled with Alex's still haunted look, that made her decide. "I have to repair this. I have to see Jack". *** Using her key, Kaetlin swung the door open and guided Alex and Lucy to the study. Where, it was obvious, they were expected. Jack sat calmly reading the newspaper, and only gave them a slight acknowledging glance when they came in. Lucy, seeing this magnetic man, could feel the sway he held over those around him. She was feeling.... attracted to him although she never considered men romantically, as she was once one herself. On the table beside him, placed carefully on a tea-serving tray, were two pistols - shiny, new, and, presumably loaded. In the corner, Arnie eyed Lucy with narrow hatred, but Jack continued to read until he came to the end of the article. He was a calm character, Lucy noted. Every one else, eyeing the weapons, realizing not only was the information in the book correct, but Jack had long been aware and simply waited for them to come around to the same conclusion on their own. As if reading the unspoken thoughts in the room, Jack finished it for them, "Thank you Kaetlin. I figured that's where you slinked off to tonight. It would have taken me so much longer to bring them here with out your unwitting help. But," turning to Lucy he continued maliciously, "it would have taken much longer if I had not made your world - Lucy Maya," he spit his old name out with a vengeance, "and the world of those around you, un-liveable." He reserved his coldest glance for Alex to erase any doubts over the fate of his son. "Now let's get on with this, shall we?" "Wait, wait, wait," Lucy interjected. She needed clarification before she just placed a gun in her mouth, "we have some of the puzzle, but not all. Before I do anything, I have to know what is going to happen." "It is simple really. We blow our brains out at approximately the same time, which should bring us back to a place where you get to make the right decision and give me my body back. Time will go back, I will wake from a coma, and none of this will have ever happened. Simple enough for you?" "You seem to being doing fine as is, if what Kaetlin tells me is true," Lucy spat out, as much in fear of what she was hearing as anger. "You would think, wouldn't you? Extremely rich guy, with nothing to do really but spend his money. The point is, my dear Craig Morton," it was strange for Lucy to hear her former name, "I don't belong here. I am a fucking woman in a man's body. On top of this, I spent my entire life building a life. A life you willfully stole from me." Jack Wallace rose from his seat, and sat on the arm of the chair, "I knew you would need some convincing, so I tinkered with your life a bit, destroying someone here, causing a suicide there, snatching and killing a child there..." He stopped listing his evil as if they were too boring to recount. At the words "killing a child" Alex made a move. Jack held up his finger and said, "Careful. Maybe you can kill me now, which I doubt, but the only way for things to be right are to do things my way, and turn back the clock." He looked at Lucy and gestured at the gun, "So think of it as no more than creating a happy ending where none could have existed before." Kaetlin stood wide eyed and silent, the impossible was being discussed as though it was an episode of last night's television. Alex was fearful, but obviously hopeful, knowing he could get his son back. Even Arnie, who was now well versed in these things supernatural, was alert and intense. But the four of them, looking at Lucy, knew what she had to do, even if they couldn't imagine it happening: pull the trigger. "If you grab it now and simply shoot yourself in one quick motion, it will be far easier. But be sure you do it right. I can't finish you off, it has to be a willing death at your own hands. Rules of the afterlife and all that." He waved his hand in a circular motion as if talking about a particularly unwieldy tax code. Lucy walked to the table, and stood by the tray. No one in the room said a word. Kaetlin was too stunned to speak, and Alex knew he was trading his brother, or what was left of his brother, for his son. Lucy's legs shook, much like the first time she leapt off of a high dive back in the days when she was a little boy nick-named "Cray". Could she do it, she asked herself, could she do it? Even as she reached for the gun, she could not be sure what was going to happen next. *** Lucy gained a sudden awareness. Her first thought was, "No, this isn't right. None of this is." She stopped in mid bite, then chewed her pancakes more slowly, straining her senses to search for the qualities that she loved in them so well. Nothing. It was not that they were bland in the traditional sense, they were completely devoid of taste altogether. Testing the impossibility, she picked up the glass of orange juice and brought the pulpy liquid to her nose, inhaling vigorously for a smell. Also nothing. She examined the glass in her hand, and noted it sweated with condensation, yet it did not feel wet nor was it cold to the touch. In fact, Lucy noted, it was not any temperature she could determine at all. With growing alarm she sipped from the glass. Utterly without taste-not even the elusive, yet tangible, neutral flavor associated with water. The sense of deja vu rang like an alarm in her brain. What was going on here, she wondered? A diffuse white light poured in from the kitchen window, too bright and unfocused to come from a single source like the sun, but emanating at once from the entirety of the sky. It was not a normal light by any stretch. She looked at the light for a moment and decided she must be dreaming. But when did she ever dream this vividly? Lucy stood up and walked through the kitchen door into the living room cautiously. Centered in this massive room, perfectly frozen in its last moment of explosive violence, were the twisted remains of a roadster. Two bodies, un-harnessed at the time of impact, were flung far from the car's demise, speaking to both the speed and severity of the accident. The first body thrown into the tree tops, was a woman Lucy recognized to be herself. The second body, a man, twisted in a grim contortionist's pose, was, some how, also hers. How could this be? How could she be two people at once? She stood in mute horror unable to move, but despite herself did. It wasn't simple curiosity which made drew Lucy to the accident - quite the opposite, she was too horrified to look a moment more - yet she was compelled to edge toward the wreck as if by force. As she moved to the corpse of the man, she squatted before it, examining closely. It as devoid of being as the so-called food in the kitchen was of taste. Why did she feel, she wondered, that she had done this before? She looked back at the body, it was broken, lifeless and cold on a level transcending temperature. Lucy looked up at the woman's body in the tree. It was warped in the tragic pose of death, but unlike the man's corpse which was dashed to the ground, only the small gash on her head indicated why her life had drained away. "Touch her." She was startled at the sound of two voices, that of the man and woman, blended together. She was confused as once again, she had the feeling they both belonged to her. Looking around, she stood on the hood of the smashed vehicle and raised her hand toward the woman wedged in the branches. Where the man's accident thrashed body was cold and harshly empty, the woman's had a warmth still glowing from it. Straining onto the tips of her toes to reach the woman's dangling fingers, she was about to make contact. Something stopped her. She wasn't sure what. It was that feeling that she had been here before, and done this. The feeling that this was all a huge mistake. She stopped just short of making contact with the woman's body, and got off the car, moving over to the body of the man. She held her hand over it. Feelings of torture and eternal damnation rang forth. Touching this body, it seemed, was the path to a endless life of hell. Yet, it seemed, impossibly, this was the right thing to do. Lucy sat on the grass, her mind clogged. She was unable to determine what was transpiring here, she couldn't even identify who she was or how she got here. Everything seemed to be in flux. For moments she seem to grasp the meaning, and as quickly it would slip away. Something very important was to happen here, the right decision had to be made, she knew that much, but there was nothing to guide her. "Uncle Craig." It was almost a whisper, but Lucy was certain the words were not spoken. She looked around but could not see where they came from. Again, the words echoed lightly across the Dreamscape. A fleeting moment of memory skirted across his brain. "Joshua?" Even as spoke the words aloud another wispy thought crossed her brain, and she spoke them aloud as well, "is dead because of me some how." Although she was not sure who Craig was any more than she knew who she was. Lucy felt another force, much larger, malevolent, waiting to be unleashed upon the world. She felt somehow by touching the woman... no merging with the body... for she could feel now the body was a portal to something... life, maybe.... that she could keep this terrible force from walking on the world. But she did that, didn't she? Somehow Lucy could feel it. The thought burned into her brain with the utmost clarity. No, she could not keep the evil from the world, she could turn it back, turn back the clocks, and send it back to the world before it became that way. Send it back before it grew too evil. This was the only way. Without another moments thought, she placed her hands on the chest of the dead man... and felt herself... no himself - I am a man, he thought - merge with the soul. A moment later, his very existence was ripped with pain, he understood everything then - how he stole the body, came back as Lucy Maya, and chose to steal it again, at risk of eternal tortures. And that eternity began now. *** They stood above her in green uniforms of a designation Lucy did not recognize, perhaps they were Metro Transit, perhaps some other transportation related field. Whoever they were, they were incongruous to the surroundings, which she knew immediately to be a hospital room. Lucy was not fully connected to her senses - her thoughts slogged through the murky like swamp of a brain emerging from a deep sleep - but she suspected she was coming out of a coma or long concussion of some kind. Beside her, tubes housed by a massive machine pumped fluids in and out of my body and her limbs were weak and ached with disuse. She could surmise from the pain, however, that she was not paralyzed. She had a vague memory of being trapped in a dream. And becoming something dark and ugly. She had the receding feeling of having done great wrong to her and Craig Morton. And the strange, quickly fading dream that she had been a man, a despicable low life of a man even as she was ultimately powerful. Lucy shook the crazy remnants of the obviously coma induced dreams from her head. But she couldn't shake the feeling that, she had learned something, been given something back - more than just her life from the accident - and had much to make up for. The green clad men's voices came languidly into focus as though Lucy's ears were draining fluid from days underwater. The taller of the two, a dusty haired twenty-something with a name tag which read "Arnie", read aloud from a book while the other, not listening, busied himself with a magazine. Lucy tried to speak, she wanted to know what happened to Craig, but only a whisper-like croak emerged from my dry throat. Upon hearing her voice, the Metro Transit worker with the nametag "Arnie" dropped his book and whipped his head in her direction. In a whirlwind of excitable emotion and energy, he snapped his fingers and yelled wildly for the second man to track down a nurse. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he held Lucy in his arms and rocked back and forth repeating over and over, "It's a miracle, it's a miracle...." *** Diana Kimberly Heche [email protected]