Thursday March 16th, 1995 - 9:00 A.M.
Atlantic City, New Jersey
There was a pungent odor in the air; a mixture of smoke and burnt wood. Something else had been laced into it, but it was too strong for Samantha to handle. "Why does it smell like blood?…Oh god!" Immediately the the wood slammed into her knees, jolting pain straight up into her spine, but she didn't care. As the puke began to pour, something different jarred her attention. Her normal hands weren't long anymore; they were a quarter smaller, with French tipped nails. "What the fuck?!" Strands of blonde hair fell before her eyes, she peered through them, out towards a balcony in front of her. Just outside, a man spoke with the thickest New Jersey accent she had ever heard.
"This is the Atlantic City Fire Department, and we need you all to listen up!" Fire Departement? Adrenaline got her back to her feet, which were smaller than her usual set as well. That's when everything came to her. It's just a hunch, but I think I understand where I am. If I turn around, I should be able to see a bed, a T.V. stand, and a walkway leading to the bathroom, if I'm correct." Even her voice was different. She felt those smaller fingers clutching her throat, from the dryness the fire caused it. Though she knew this had to be a dream of some sort, the paralyzing fear could not be torn away from her.
Her chest kept heaving, faster than a normal resting rate should be. Why am I so scared?! The voice in her head matched that of when she spoke seconds before. She wasn't even able to stop herself from moving. As if her feet had minds of their own, she had already turned, and sure enough everything she imagined was there. Even the placement of the furniture; it was all there. The male voice behind her spoke up again as she already passed by a small kitchen on the right, and into the bathroom. "Your hotel is on fire! I'm sure you're all very aware of this now, but I urge you to please, not open your doors. It's very likely the flames have spread to the hallways up to half of the building by now. We have a trampolene set up down here to catch you; all you gotta do is jump. Trust us!"
An involuntary twitch formed in her neck as Samantha flipped the light switch. The array of light to dark blues melded perfectly with the dark tub and toilet. Just over the sink was a fancy mirror. Without hesitation, she was sliding in front of it. A pair of dark blue eyes peered down into the very depths of her soul. Her hair was long, bushy and her face was rounder, with a long nose and slender jaw line.
"What the fuck?" Her instincts kicked in as she examined the rest of her body. She definitely was shorter; she couldn't shake the excitement she felt when she saw the pair of toned legs that girl had. For that split second, Samantha was no longer there. She was off in her own fantasy land, happy as she'd ever been. Suddenly a switch flipped on; her fear had magnified itself ten times over, as realization set in. I'm in a burning building, why isn't she trying to escape? There's gotta be a point to this; I know that Klyde and Dianne are behind it, but why? Before she even knew it, the view of the balcony was straight ahead, once more. The girl was frightened beyond normality; Samantha could feel it eating away at her mind. Her back was beginning to sweat as the fire roared just outside her room. "Oh god. I'm gonna die! I can't die; n-not now…"
What the hell is she doing? Her thoughts ran rampid but her legs were already sprinting towards the balcony opening. A fresh smell of oceanic air slammed into her. Instantly her lungs heaved, trying to blow the smoke out of them and her head became as light as air. She involuntarily stared up towards the clear sky and outwards towards the area around that building; the pier was off in the distance, as her gaze went straight up. "Ma'am! Are you prepared to jump?" What? "W-What?!" The girl yelled back. Why can't I control anything anymore? All power over this girl's movements had been long gone by now; she kept whipping her head around, frantically trying to get her bearings. A Taj Mahal Hotel sign rested just off to the left, amongst towering city buildings.
Below, was the entirety of the Atlantic City F.D. and over to the right, a long, busy road leading to and from the main city itself. Why does she keep looking around?! Her heart skipped as she saw her foot clambor up onto the balcony railing. No, no, no! D-Don't do that! Oh lord! Ooohhhh Jesus… If adrenaline alone could kill, she'd already have let go of the metal railing. Don't do it! There's gotta be a better way… Oh god please. The girl was already climbing over, disregarding all of the impulses Samantha had. She could vaguely make out the people below, but not their faces.
I gotta be at least five floors up. Oooohhhh! It; It's enough not to kill, but to cause severe amounts of agony. If… The girl was breathing faster with each second that passed. If she misses this jump; oh god. It's gonna hurt! Ringing took place in her head. The girl's fingers began to lose their grip as she fell a bit more forward. Please don't let me die. Samantha caught herself thinking and rethinking, praying that somehow, this would prepare herself for what was to come. The cool metal instantly disappeared as she let go. Air blew hard through her hair; everything was becoming closer and closer. She felt her body turn; the sky welcomed her like a loving parent. For that short amount of time, everything stood still. The girl's emotions were flying all out of whack; Samantha tried to force them from her mind, but alas, she knew it would be to no avail.
Even with all of this mental stress, she couldn't stop herself from smiling. What the fuck's the matter with her? I-I can't stop grinning. Seconds later, a smooth canvas surface met her back; it rubbed angrily against her damaged skin. Numerous amounts of people were looking down at her; all stricken with horrified dismay. "How'd she survive like that?" one of them asked. The searing pain had erupted all over her face, and the entirety of the girl's backside. Why am I in so much pain?! What do they get from me experiencing this?! MAKE IT STOP, PLEASE! "Jesus… She's got second to third degree burns over most of her back… Someone get the EMT'S over here NOW!" It was the fireman from before, this time she could see his face.
The man had greasy, brown hair, which went down past his shoulders. He was very tall, and stocky. His lower jaw jutted out, and his eyes were wide and light brown. A scar ran across the bridge of his wide, crooked nose. "H-Help me…" She wasn't even able to stop these words, not that she wanted to. At that point, Samantha felt her own thoughts bleeding into the girl's. No one deserves this. I can't believe this happened; I feel so; so sorry for her. Whether it was her own sorrow or this girl's, she had no idea, but the tears were already pouring.
"I am the Chief of the Fire Department. My name is Daryl…" Daryl? Why does it matter that I hear his name? Please, if this is you two, pull me out of this. She couldn't shake this name from her head as it kept echoing throughout it. Just then the girl lurched, and Samantha felt something pulling her away. As she was lifted from the dead body, a disturbing smirk was planted on Daryl's face. What the fuck's he smiling about?! She just wanted to rip his face off. Suddenly, all she could see now was an abyss. The sensation, she could recall, was similar to when the first line of coke hit her nostrils. Nothing would exist for a few minutes, and she would be at peace in this cavernous room..
A sound of a hushed discussion met her ears. Something was forming right before her very eyes. A similar tiled flooring drew her back. Her normal feet were there once more; she instinctively ran her hands over all of her body. Oh thank god! I'm me again! That was when she saw them; the couple who had been shacking up in her brain for some time now. Dianne had been sitting at one of the two steel tables, staring back at her. A smile was on her face, spreading those beautiful red lips of hers. She had a skin tight, red dress on at the time, and her hair had been tied back. "Welcome back honey." "You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice again!"
Without any further stalling, she was running across the room, and felt the woman's warm embrace. Something about the feeling of her hair, or the slight giggling she did in her ear; Samantha couldn't place it. Everything she just experienced minutes before would never truly leave, but the pain had alleviated a bit. Klyde was resting on the edge of her vision, across the table.
He too had been grinning, which always made the man look so handsome. "Come here, girl." It felt like her father had just gotten home from a long day of work, and begged her for a hug. She didn't even hesitate with him either, and ran around the table to embrace the man. His strong, semi-tight hold zapped the rest of her defenses away, as her heart shattered right then and there. She didn't want to have this pain anymore. The constant battle of right and wrong; feeling death in the eyes of an innocent girl, it was too much. "It's gonna be alright, girl. I promise you that!" Tears had already been soaking up into the man's shirt; it was all she could see, and that was enough for now.
"Why d-did I have t-to see that? Why did I-I h-have to f-feel it?" "Look at me darlin'." His arms pushed her away, and then she saw his face. He looked so disturbed and pained; the smile had left him already. "Please, sit down." his request seemed acceptable to her. She wanted to feel something different; the cold surface of the table was more than enough to suffice. Something's off about this room. It doesn't look like it did before. Why did they show it to me like that? "Darlin'?" Her heart jumped, as her eyes flitted back up to his. "Y-Yeah?" It wasn't until now that she felt her hair being groomed by Dianne's fingers, though she didn't mind at all.
"First of all, we had no intention of displaying my shop to you the way that we did. It was unprofessional, and we are deeply apologetic to you about that." His words were finely chosen, and deeply passionate. She could always tell when someone gave a sincere apology and this was one of them. "It's okay." She saw the worry just wash away from his face as relief set back in.
When he dangled his head, grasping the edges of that table; that was when the tension inside her chest, truly slipped away. He was smiling at her again; warmth ran up her back and made her feel even more welcomed than before. Outside, a light had shined through the window, casting a long array of luminance into the somewhat darkened room. Dianne's hands were now running up and down her back, again, she hadn't realized it until now. "My husband and I have decided on something, and needed your consent." "Decided on what?" She had to see the woman's face to tell whether or not she was fooling around. Judging by the stern stare, and frown she received, Samantha knew that she wasn't.
"W-What's up?" Her attention went right back to the husband, who was now pacing left and right. He kept sighing, and brushing his fingers into his own hair. He's stalling. What's he so worked up about? "Why don't you just tell me what the issue is? I know you're beating around the bush Klyde. I'm a tell it bluntly kind of woman, so just give it to me straight." "I've been in the protective force for such a long time. It started in the Army, where I was part of the Military Police. It was my job to protect and guard whatever my officers told me to." He was back at the table now, watching her closer than ever before.
His look; it was making her edgy as she realized she was on the end of her seat, waiting for this man to finally ask her the question. "Anyway, when I left the Army, I decided to go to college and get my PH.D's in Criminology and Psychology. From there, I was off to the Police Academy, and rose through the ranks to become a successful Detective, or at least I thought I was." Thought? She knew he saw the quizzical stare that she displayed, even though she tried to hide it. "Yes, I thought that I was a good cop and a damn good detective."
There was something bothering the man, she could tell. A vein had been twitching in his temple and she knew it was associated with anger. Her father had the same problem, which helped her in the past with avoiding arguments. "I know that you're upset, but I don't know what about. Why do you say you were a bad detective?" "Because I was damn it!" When his hands slammed onto the table, she as well as Dianne nearly fell out of their seats. Jesus, dude! I can't get my heart to stop pulsing in my throat… UGH! Samantha forced herself not to say a word, though it wouldn't mean a difference anyway. These two can read my mind, so what's the point?
"Thank you for holding your tongue there, girl. Anyway… Up until my last case on the force, I did do a good job. I nabbed some of the worst criminals I've ever seen, ranging from rapists to arsonists, straight up through to serial killers, and I got so many of them… And yet…" His pausing brought her back to her mid college years. One of the lessons she remembered, had to deal with learning about how people spoke. Inflection is key after all. Her college professor's voice rang through her, as if she were still in that classroom. It was an exercise that could help tell if someone was lying. "You know, normally, when someone trails off, they're trying to find the right words to say." She grasped the man's arm; it felt so warm in her hands, resending another wave of that recognizable heat. "I appreciate the concern, I truly do. Just give me a second to think. I want to present you with my first subject, but I don't want to scare you away."
She didn't know why, but she laughed at him just moments after his statement. It was unnerving to her; crazy even. Nothing could have prepared her for this situation and she wasn't handling it right. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry. I really am, it's just… If you wanted to scare me away, the last time I was in here, would have done the trick! No; no, I'm here for good, you can count on that." "You have no idea how good that makes me feel, girl." She saw the corners of his mouth twitching, and smiled back.
"Anyway, I had this one particular case." He was sliding up to the table now, in his own chair. The way he rested his chin onto his fist, gave the man a sort of stoic presence. "Honey?" Dianne's voice coursed by her left ear, flowing smoothly like melted butter. I need to see her again. She noticed the woman's eyes were glistening, yet she was grinning as well. "We want you to be happy and to have the justice you deserve. The truth is…" "We can't always catch the bad guys." Klyde helped finish her statement; Dianne was nodding, yet Samantha couldn't stop staring at her eyes. These two have impeccable chemistry between each other. It's; It's astonishing, really. "You alright there?" Klyde happened to draw her attention back, with his invisibly roped words.
I wondered why I was feeling that slight pressure. Klyde was holding her hands, somehow making her feel even warmer than before. "The case that I had was the one with a man named Daryl Xaveria." Daryl? Wasn't that…? Oh lord, no! "That's why I was in that girl's perspective. A fireman; a man named Daryl, was assisting me and her when we jumped from that balcony. I saw the sick bastard smirking at me just as that girl gave her last breath." Klyde was nodding all the while. "Wow… I-I don't know what to say. I felt so bad for that girl, and from what I saw, she had so much going for her."
The idea of someone dying so young grabbed tightly onto her chest. She'd give anything to just ball up on the floor and cry, but she couldn't do that to these two. Not those who wanted to help her rid the world of guys like Daryl, even though she had no idea who that man was. Something about his name made her back shudder. "Look at me, please." Klyde was distraught; she felt it passing off into her. "S-Sorry." She hadn't even realized that her hands were fiddling with her pants, until now, or that she had even been wearing jeans in the first place.
A tight, tank top had rested around her chest, giving her breasts an even more perkier look. "Girl? Samantha?" "What?" The floor mocked her, as she realized she wasn't paying attention; Klyde didn't seem at all annoyed though, when their eyes locked once more. "Daryl Xaveria, was a former drug lord. As horrible as he was to adults back then, I couldn't ever catch him. He would always go from the U.S. to Canada every time we'd be on his tail. One day, as he was doing his cover up job in the Fire Department, the day that girl jumped from the hotel; that was the day he decided killing young adults and children was his new passion. You see…"
He had begun pacing again. You know, I do remember someone who did that all the time. Dad used to do it, especially when he found out I was having sex. That was quite a night! "Pay attention." Klyde's words whipped her straight back out of her head. She was watching him, but looking past the man towards the wall. Focus damn it! "I'm sorry, please continue." The way he looked at her; that annoyed face was a bit too much. "Yes, anyway. I finally had enough evidence to pin him as the arsonist, since he left strands of his own hair and even a bit of his blood on the corner of the Secretary counter."
"What happened though? You sound as if he wasn't even tried." "You're exactly right." Klyde had retired back to the table again, this time looking at his wife. "Go on honey." Dianne's words swam by Samantha's ear; they were just like her mother's when she was still alive. She turned her attention back to the man before her, with fingers still running up and down her pant leg. For reasons unknown, the feeling of jeans calmed her even back when she was just a little girl.
It started out as just something small and innocent, turning into a nervous habit whenever she felt on edge. I need to be as calm as I can possibly muster. So what if I fiddle with my jeans… At least I'm not smoking. Though I do cocaine so… "Are you still here with us?" Dianne's worried voice was washing her rapid thoughts completely away. "Oh yeah! I know I apologized a lot already, but I really am sorry. I keep going back into my head; so… sorry." "Look at me honey." The woman's slender grasp, with skin as smooth as a baby's bottom, turned her head. "It's okay to feel lost and out of control. It happens to the best of us, as you can see by my husband's tale over there." "Which is why I want to finish it." He interrupted them, grasping Samantha's full attention once more.
She immediately noticed that he was playing with the collar of his shirt, trying to loosen it up. He's got nervous habits too, see? Now just let the man finish his story. "I had everything I needed to put that sick bastard away for good, but do you know what happened?" Her head shook without much thought as she was still watching him closely. He got back to his feet; aggravation seemed to be boiling out of him. "The fucker got… away. He got away! Because he had ties with drugs, and politicians; all of that bull shit! All of them! They got him out of the trial and he was free to go. That sick man who murderd so many children… He got to walk!"
"What the fuck?" That bastard… Now wonder he was smirking! Her ability to hold back the vulnerability of the breaching dam that was her soul, had become nearly impossible to manage. She hadn't even realized that a scowl was plastered onto her face; not until Klyde's voice broke her out of the trance. "My thoughts exactly!" She watched him shaking his head again, and just laughing up at the ceiling of that room. "You wanna know what I did though?" When they both had each other's full attention, she felt her stomach turn. There was a cold look to this man's eyes. "I left the force, and I never looked back. Damn it, I was proud to leave that piece of shit excuse for a legal system! Hell, like I said, you can't catch everyone, even though the mother fucker DESERVED IT!" She immediately jumped to her feet, as Klyde slammed both fists onto the table. They left a dent on the very edge.
Dianne remained sitting however, and it bothered her. How is she doing this? I nearly had a fuckin' heart attack! Sure enough, she felt that similar beating in her throat. "I'm sorry. Anyway, I built this room." He was smiling again, staring up at the ceiling and all around, then their eyes were locked once more. Even though she saw the overjoyed happiness, and wanted to feel the same, her conscience was battling it away. "I designed this room so that I can exact vengeance to those who were wronged, and I started with my dear old pal, Daryl. I took that sick fuck… and; and I strapped him down to this very table in front of you. I then… took a saw from that tool wall over there and began cutting into his wrists. My GOD did I love hearing the man scream!"
"I hope the fucker suffered!" There wasn't even a moment's wait before these words flew from Samantha's lips. What the hell did you just say?! Did I seriously just say what I think I just said? My parents would've killed me if they heard that! "Exactly what I hoped you'd say!" Please don't agree with our emotional connections…I can't shake this guilt now! She realized that she was no playing with the hem of her shirt; her nerves were long but gone by now. All of the emptiness within, ate at her very mind. "Anyway, long story short…" She looked back up, nearly screaming from that crazed look Klyde had. "I ripped the fucker's hands off, after partially sawing them and then tore out his teeth, one by one, followed by his left eyeball."
Bile kept churning in her stomach; she ignored it. When Klyde continued, his tone of voice had been etched with maniacal excitement. A combination, that she hoped to never inherit. "By the time I was done with him, he had suffered an immense amount of torturous pain, before I slowly bled him to death. I knew then and there, that this was my new calling. I could be the bringer of justice! A soldier of Karma herself, and I wouldn't let anyone stop me. Thankfully, my wife here; she was okay with me doing this. She sees the injustice in this world and knows that I do this for the greater good. That is why we wanted to reveal to you that poor girl's death. We wanted you to see, first hand, what Daryl was capable of, and that was just the beginning of his murdering spree."
"I really didn't like the look he gave her." Klyde was mere feet from her now, nearly making her jump out of her skin. "Jesus!" There goes my heart again… Why does he have to keep doing shit like this?! "Sorry, girl. I-I didn't mean to startle you." Her eyes were closed and she felt her head shaking, despite the internal screaming going on inside. When they reopened, Dianne and Klyde were both there; hands on her shoulders, like loving guardians, encouraging her to keep going. What is this urge I have inside of me? I…I can't stop this adrenaline rush. My blood's coursing faster than I've ever felt before and I think…I; I think I like it.
"Are you still here with us?" Dianne's voice lingered in the distance, though she was so very nearby. Those soft words could be heard by her as clear as day, and still echoed off in the distance somehow. "What are you looking at?" She was unable to stop her gaze from moving, not onto those two in front of her, but towards the wall of weapons just begging to be used. Most of them had spider webs strewn all across, with a single saw blade resting, untouched. Its inconsistency with the rusty tools beside it mocked her to her very core. Entrancing as this all was, a small part of her resented even standing in this room. During the time when her parents were still alive, she was just a normal average girl, who happened to be blessed with beauty.
Who would've known that something as miniscule as that would have lead to the life I live now? "Honey?" I hear you Dianne, I just need a bit of time for myself. The motherly grasp on her shoulder released. What was she a fuckin' shield? Some sort of force field protecting me from the cruelty of this world? …Where's this anger coming from? Why; Why's my adrenaline going again? Why am I asking so many fucking questions?! "Make it stop!" The weight of everything was too much. No matter how cold the tiles were, they were unable to zap away the fiery rivers replacing her veins. "Darlin', you may want to slow down a bit. Your breathing is erratic; you need to stay calm."
He's right. Calm yourself Sammie… Breathe nice and slow. With each puff of air that poured from her mouth, it cut the whirlwind of emotions down until they were a slight breeze. "I-I'm so sorry." Stop fucking apologizing! No amount of concentration would make her head stop shaking, even when she was focusing on the tables. Those familiar grasps were on her arms now; the bumpiness of the wall caressed as they were sliding lovingly against her back. Both of these beings were worried; she saw it in their eyes. You're breathing's still shaky… You're not insane; you're not stupid and you're not an evil person. "Listen to your conscience, girl." Klyde had her attention now; he had furrowed eyebrows and that frown he wore; it was a face she was so used to.
"You don't have to be so concerned about me, okay? I'm begging you, just hear me out." "We're both here sweety, just speak." Dianne still sounded so far away. Muster your energy and let them know how you feel. Thank god for my thoughts. I don't know where I'd be without you inner voice! "Sam, sweety…?" "Why're you so nervous?!" Why'd I interrupt her? Instant regret pummeled Samantha; she felt weak in the knees. The woman she began to love had been cowering away, like a scolded dog. "Oh, why did I have to go and say that? Dianne, I'm sorry. I'm saying that a lot; it's becoming my new phrase, but I mean it. Please. I mean not to scare either of you." She watched both of them; Klyde was fumbling with his collar again, only slightly. His wife was the person she regretted striking terror into the most. Something was taking hold of her every thought and function. Normally the idea of replying to someone as insane as she just did would never have even crossed her mind.
Yet there she is, backing away. Klyde's still near me, and I know why. He's all for this; all for the go to, furious attitude. I will never be able to accurately describe how I feel the way that I do and that's okay. You're getting lost in your mind again Sam… Snap out of it! Sure enough, all she could see was her feet. This routine had become second nature, getting lost in her head and staring at inaminate objects. "I think I understand; no, I know I understand. Corey Smith did a heinous thing against me and if he isn't taught a lesson, he'll just rape again."
"Look at us." Dianne's angelic voice pulled her from the very depths of her befuddled, garbled thoughts. "Oh honey, don't cry." "I'm n-not…" A small streak of wetness soothed Samantha's cheek. Her new mother figure was already wiping it away with her thumb. "Can I hold your hand?" When she saw those bright white teeth, and before she could fight it, her chin was resting on Dianne's shoulder. Only two other people could wash this pain away through a hug; they both died years ago.
"Honey, don't you see? I can never hate you no matter what you say or do. Look at me." The slight feeling of this woman pushing her away nearly broke her heart. But when their faces were only inches from each other's, it instantly mended. She caught herself counting the semi-dark lines running through the waves of blue water that were this angel's eyes. "I'd do anything to just jump into those eyes of yours." "As would I, but we must get at the task at hand. Do you accept what we have to offer? If you do not, we both understand and will leave you be. But if you do, please say so, that way we can plan for the capture."
"I don't know if I really want to do this… The voice in my head says it's a good idea, but my heart and soul are saying the complete opposite." I just need a vote of confidence. Someone give me a sign. She looked this way and that, trying to get something off of the faces of the couple. Each counter balanced each other, sending mixed signals. "Dianne?" she asked. The woman was rubbing her arm. Her attention never left the floor. She's being evasive Sam. You're not gonna get anything you want out of her. As she expected, the woman winced. "I'm so stupid. I don't mean for my mind to wander so randomly like that." She replied. "I see the apologetic eyes you're giving me and it's fine. But you're right; I won't give you an answer as to whether or not you should do this."
"Then it's up to me; I assume you'll be the same Klyde?" The man nodded in return. Shit! What do I do? "I see you're fiddling with your pants again; listen." A firm grasp from a loving supporter; she knew she needed this now more than ever. Klyde had a small half smile; she could see his pained admiration. The urge is back again! What is this? Whether it was from this look or from the sounds of people talking outside on a sunny, yet chilly Winter morning; there was some force making her lean towards Klyde's plan. "What will you choose?" "Why does this have to sound like some type of Karma based video game? This isn't an MMORPG; it's my life… My future; that's at stake here. I know what I said about how I felt and how the voice in my head urges me to go forward… I've made my decision." The anticipation She felt in that room could be cut with a knife.
A sort of heat poured off of the couple; both of which were now holding her hands. "I feel so high right now. It's like I'm doing crack all over again and I know I haven't done it for a short while now. Anyway… I'm going off on a tangent here; I want to do this. Klyde is right; the only true way to exact vengeance is to become a soldier of Karma. Sure, she gets the majority of those who deserve her assistance or her wrath, but just like the justice system, she needs help." Are you seriously gonna do this Sam? What the fuck's wrong with you?! Shut up already! I've made up my mind so you can go to hell, little voice.
"Uhh, Samantha?" Klyde, like before, yanked her out of her brain. "What?! Oh! Okay, I was lost in my head again." They were caking the weight of aprehension onto her; so much so that the ability to concentrate was becoming violently troubled. Just look at the floor; it's not that hard. "I feel like this is the right thing to do. I feel like Karma has recruited me, whether or not I like it and that's okay." I need to see their faces. Go ahead, look. The couple were both more than elated by her reply, even Dianne wore the mask of agreement; she nodded at her all the while.
"Then it's settled," Klyde stated. "What're you doing?" He clapped his hands; an unseen wind blasted around her. An invisible rope seemingly tied itself around her waist, hoisting her up through the ceiling, higher and higher into the air. The only thing that was seeable now had been the smoke billowing from the burning hotel. The sun itself enveloped her in its clutches. She felt here eyes sting; they snapped shut, losing her in a sea of light shows inside the darkness she was becoming so fond of. "Are you there, girl?" Klyde was nowhere to be found. She saw nothing else; no buildings or clouds; nothing. Even the blinding light of the sun had vanished, leaving her in a pure white, bottomless room.
* * * *
Thursday January 17th, 2013 - 8:30 P.M.
Hospital
Where are you? Please reply… I need verification here; I need help. Neither of her new friends rose to the occasion, however. "Her vital signs seem stable, the seizure however…" A woman was speaking and she knew it wasn't Dianne, or Layla. "We'll leave her here in I.C.U. for one more night then release her tomorrow." Above, ceiling lights appeared; the sound of her heart monitor; Layla's light snores; she knew where she was now. Her incredibly vivid dream; was it a dream? Or was it just some sick, lengthened nightmare? When will this end? Only the rhythm of her monitor seemed to calm her raging nerves. That, and the humming coming from Klyde, who was facing her at the end of her hospital bed.