Dream Weavers (rated R for mature)

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The Murrstress
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Scifi, Fantasy, Modern, Magical, Horror, Noir, apocalyptic, Grimdark, yaoi, yuri, anything really.
(Tatu – All the Things She Said, remix [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzzXnGSoddM&feature=related"]YouTube - Tatu - All The Things She Said (DJ Sputnik Remix)[/ame] )

Julia sat in her college class, watching the teacher with a bored expression on her face. Her eyes were fighting to close, while her mind and brain kept telling her that, even though this was an extremely boring lecture, she just couldn't sleep through it, the professor might say something useful…eventually… There was also the problem of the chemicals in her system. The Dream Weavers had given her a kit of seven syringes. Each syringe had enough medication in them to keep her awake for forty-eight hours. She was on the fifth syringe today, and had four to go. Her body ached and all she wanted was to sleep. Just even for a moment.

Her head dropped for a second, eyes closing. Then it snapped back up, eyes wide as she tried her hardest to stay awake. She couldn't sleep yet. Not until Swiit Driemz was completely out of her system. And when the tests results came back, they'd know more about what happened, hopefully, the drug hadn't screwed up her body in any way. The other problem was that she was still unable to control her thoughts as well as they'd like her to. She had to be able to achieve lucid dreaming or that freaky thing would happen again. They were surprised to find that she had been partially awake during the whole incident. She had seen her own dream beast, and could feel its fur as it curled itself around her, as if it had been resting. When it stood, she was amazed by its size. She had reached for it and the beast sat by her, letting her touch its fur.

( [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHP5_awxHlE&feature=related"]YouTube - Undivided - Solid State Society OST[/ame] )

Julia thought of that memory, remembering the amazing feeling of that…. Thing's fur. It was softer than anything else, and it was warm. They, the Dream Weavers, had told her that the beast was a part of her most innerself. That drug had only helped it come forward. The only problem was that the creature was unstable, and had growled and almost attacked a cop when he had the unfortunate luck of having shined a flashlight at it. It had only stopped because Julia had woken up from the shock of seeing it about to maul an innocent policeman who was just doing his job and walking around campus, inspecting to make sure no one was stealing anything or sneaking in.

Being able to wake up after only four hours of being locked into the drug was a surprise on its own. But either way, she needed to be able to control her beast better….

"Soft……black…..fur….. and….red eyes…" She muttered to herself, two of her classmates turned their heads to look at her for a moment, thinking she was crazy. And they were right, because she swore that she could feel that creature's giant muzzle on her back, sniffing her, then nosing her, like some animals do when they picked up that someone was distressed. It rubbed its massive head on her side and arm, and she stiffened up, fearful. It had stopped right then. She couldn't feel it anymore…. She shuddered, afraid of what was going on, afraid of what she might be turning into.

She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and texted the info to one of the Dream Weavers. She drew pictures of foxes while she waited, trying to pay attention to the professor again. She tried to take notes, but she was still thinking of things other than this class, it was hard to pay attention.

[Get out of class, now. Tell them you're sick or something, get here, now.]

She re-read the text a couple times, then gulped. Was it that serious? She then thought of what had happened to her life just in this one week and started to feel genuinely sick, and she milked it for all it's worth. She then ran out of class with her things under her arms, green with the fact that she felt as if she was going to vomit. She went to the bathroom, then came out, wiping her mouth and then asked one of her friends to take her to the warehouse where the Dream Weavers had stationed themselves. It hadn't taken long and she was soon before them all of them except for one, and they all looked a tad worried…..maybe more than a "Tad"….


"Sir, you can't be serious, there is no way….. Sir, the tests came back…. The drug that we're dealing with, it's not the original "Swiit Dreimz"…. It's a modified version, a highly modified version. " a meek female voice timidly orated from behind a microscope, she was checking the two strains again by hand, herself, even though the test results were already back. She was in disbelief that it was a different strain, yet here it was.

"What's the difference?" A man asked, the fear in his voice evident, he sat near her, leaning forward in his char, towards her, anxious.

"Sir…. We need to contact the police… This strain is able to be used as an inhalant…. You can put it in a canister and spray it like eff'n spray paint….. and with the way it looks now….. Sir, we just got to contact the police…." She murmured softly, there was a clicking sound, like she had just put a pen down, then the rustle of papers as if she was going through a file.

"We can't do that….. Remember how they reacted the last time we called them? They told us to stay out of their job….." The man sounded miffed, but calm. "Show me your findings, I need to see this for myself." He muttered and walked over to the darker side of the room, flipping a switch, the dark was instantly illuminated. The woman was young and fitted with a long white trench-coat that was apparently her "scientist" garb. She protested to the light, her lips pulled back and he practically expected her to growl or snarl at him.

"TURN THAT OFF! IT HURTS MY EYES!" She shrieked and he flipped the switch again, she sighed, back in her comfort zone. The man felt his way over to her and looked through the scope not liking what he saw.

"Sorry about that…..Matilda….. we need a better sample of this for you…." The man muttered, annoyed.

"We can't if we don't……" Matilda began, timidly.

"I'll send one of our members over to try and get some from a drug dealer…. I suppose in the process, we can make it a sting operation if needed… This IS YOUR drug, after all, we need to get it to you…" He defended his point, stubbornly.

"I never meant for this…." Apologetically, she looked up at him, and he could still just barely see her in the dark.

"It's ok, You were only doing your job…. But we do need to talk, as you said…. And how are the tests results on the new kid?" He stated, factually.

"….. Her body reacted badly to the drug… It went into a fever….. and we got their quick enough for there not to be any fatal damage…but… certain parts of her brain are literally fried…. And she has a heart murmur now…. She'll survive, though…. It's a small comfort in these times, She probably won't be able to control her speech very well, the impulse control for that…well, it's done, as well as parts of the brain that help with decision-making, I'm going to suggest that someone act as her guardian…. She's unable to face her parents about this, so they're out….and she doesn't have sibiings that she wants to talk to…. Try and see if you can work something out… I just… don't trust her judgment… I'm afraid something will happen, and It's not a good idea to let her be on her own…."

The man nodded and headed off after giving Matilda a peck on the lips, whispering "I love you" in her ear. She smiled then got back to work, while, down the hall , the man called the police and explained what was going on. They needed to know how bad this would get…. He just hoped that they wouldn't hinder the process of helping the victims…
FBI Washington DC Office
Press Room...

Reporters spoke among each other as they waited for the director of the FBI to come out and make a statement. The drug Swiit Dreims had become as much a problem for the Bureau as it had for the DEA. With recent events in Africa and Russia, the CIA and Department of Homeland Security found themselves involved in the overall investigation.

CIA was convinced that the drug was a new scheme by Al Queda or the North Koreans while DHS was convinced that the Colombian drug cartels were involved. Cameras began flashing as Director Todd Simmons enterred, flanked by the Director of the DEA and the head of Homeland Security.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press, we have reached a consensus regarding the designer drug Swiit Dreims." Simmons began, an Agent adjusting his earpiece.

"The FBI, in conjunction with the CIA, DEA, and Homeland Security, have determined that this drug is a threat to the United States. We have deployed investigation teams to areas that have been affected by the hallucinations created by this drug, as have counterpart agencies across the world. With their combined findings we should be able to isolate the origins of this substance and wipe it out." Reporters began asking Simmons questions, trying to speak over each other, the Director motioning for them to calm down.

"We'll release another statement in a week's time. For now that is all we can say." he finished, stepping away from the podium. Reporters pressed for further answers from Simmons as he and the directors of DHS and DEA left.

"They'll press for more, you know." Director Ramos of Homeland Security said as the door closed.

"I'm well aware of that..." Simmons replied, loosening his tie.

"Speaking of which, what has Russian FSB* said about the tank incident?" Director Alder of the DEA asked.

"Same thing they would have said twenty years ago. 'We're looking into it' is the official response."

"You'd have thought the Cold War never ended." Ramos commented, taking out a pack of Marlboros.

"No shit..." Simmons replied, pushing a door open. "Alder, are your teams in place?" Director Alder stepped through first, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops.

"They've forward deployed, the investigation teams and the Tac Teams." Alder replied. "Once our investigators find where the distribution points are we'll be able to find the suppliers and take them out."

"If only it was that easy." Ramos interjected. "One of the things they taught me in S.E.A.L.s is that the only easy day is yesterday."

*FSB: Federal Security Bureau. Formerly known as KGB.
The pager at his belt beeped, causing dark-haired John Corpuz at halt in the middle of a very delicate enterprise. The elegant blonde draped on his couch ceased nipping at the corner of his mouth. He wished she hadn't. The blonde sent him a withering, much-maligned frown of disappointment...with a sigh that spoke of frequent exposure to these sorts of interruptions.

"Are you going to get that, Doctor Corpuz?" she asked dryly.

John cleared his throat and extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and couch drapings, buttoning up his shirt. He swiftly checked the pager and dialed a return number on his cellphone-PDA. "Doctor Corpuz. This had better be good," he grumbled. His mood darkened as he listened to a case report on his latest patients. They were teenagers hooked on that Swiit Driems concoction, the effects of which were driving them down a dark lane. "Put them on IV methylphenidate, half milligram per kilogram. Make sure you get their weight. I want you checking in on them every thirty minutes--vitals and dosing. Do not let them fall asleep."

He hung up and looked at his female companion. "I...."

The woman huffed and pulled her blouse shut. "I know, Jack." A hand ran through her hair, a sigh came from her lips. "Look, this isn't going to work out. You're too...busy. And the work you do...its great and all, but I need...I need someone there."

John's shoulders slumped, but the bite of her words wasn't as deep as he let on. He'd heard it far, far too many times before. He walked her to the door, called down a cab, and even paid the fare in advance. He'd done it before.

The drive to the hospital was uneventful; he didn't even think about his failed evening with a beautiful woman, given how acclimated he was to it. Checking in on his patients was equally uneventful; the orders he gave over the phone were enough to stablize his teenaged charges for now. It seemed that as long as they stayed awake, they were fine.

It was Swiit Driems, of course. The root of the recent epidemic of sleep-related problems. John had been following the medical literature on the drug like a vulture over a carcass for months, ever since pharmacologists and researchers started seeing unusual chemical interactions with the body's normal hormonal functions.

On his drive back to his far-too-lonely apartment and its far-too-empty bed, John saw a man in a dark trench coat standing in the middle of the road. The doctor slammed on his brakes, stopping mere meters from running the coated man over.

John sprang out of the car in a fury. "Hey, guy! What the hell? You wanna get killed?"

The dark-coated man, features shouded in the night, bemusedly answered, "Not at all, Doctor Corpuz."

"How do you--"

"On the contrary, its not dying that interests me," the man continued, without missing a beat. "Specifically, your valiant attempts to save those who have fallen to the drug known as Swiit Driems. I represent a group that has need of your compassion, interest, and expertise. I represent the Dream Weavers...."
"cannae git anudder wodka n redbu ples" Nick slurred, though even as drunk as he was he could tell the bartender wasnt going to comply
"You've had enough as it is lad, I can't give you no more, jsut sit down up the back there and dont'cha make too much of a fuss on your way there" the Bartender, a kindly Old Irish man in his late sixties, a Patrick O'Reilly said, his tone more kind than firm, but the drunken Nick nodded
'Kay Pat, ken yu jus make shur i dun foll aslip kay? I dun trust anywun buht yu an dokta oldmate, um, wateva his name is" Nick slurred, his body trying to fall asleep and wake up at the same time, his paranoid fear of falling asleep prevailing over his intoxiation for the time being, though soon he would pass stuble up the starts of the hotel/pub and pass out on his bed, as he had done for the past week and a half.

"Alright lad, you've got yourself a deal, jsut keep yourself out of trouble, those bastards put you in enough as it is" Patrick had taken to waking the twenty year old up every couple of hours, and most mornings Nick, despite having a throbbing hangover, offer to help Patrick Clean the pub, walk to the shops to get firewood and other chores in payment for the old man's hospitality, though Patrick would often just shake his head and laugh, telling the now sober Nick to clean himself up, as when he woke the boy, it was usualy in the midst of a bad memory, a memory which Patrick knew all to well.
Was it wrong? To want to dream forever?

On the far side of town she lay on her bed, smothered by the heat of her room as she stared at the clock. She was so tired, so tired, so tired-but-couldn't-sleep. Her eyes watered and the bright-lit numbers wavered and began to dance until she squeezed them shut and prayed it would stop and rolled over to stare at the ceiling instead.

She felt dizzy. Excited. Drunk, though she hated drinking, yet it still felt good in a terrifying way. She felt like she was standing on the very edge of a drop so far, it stole all the breath from her. To topple over the edge was sheer madness.

Her eyes closed, slid closed, so slowly like curtains over the window and the moon rising over the hill. Exhaustion overcame her and the heat in her bones that made her skin shiny and slick with sweat, and finally, at last, she fell into sleep.

To topple over the edge was sheer madness, but she did it anyway for the thrill.


It was the burning coil of powerful muscles as it ran so fast running and running and running-and-running-and-running, claws tearing the earth apart and body sinuously sliding through the forest like the viridian shadow of a serpentine beast, and it flew forward so fast she knew it would dash itself to pieces if it didn't turn fast enough didn't turn didn't turn didn't TREE-

Flash to the left and it was past and safe and gone and she wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but the body wasn't hers to breathe with. It opened it's mouth and the air tasted thick and rich on a tongue that was fleshy but too thin too thin by far-

STOP. Taste the air, taste the warmth of flesh and hot breath and soft skin so easy to break and tear and
dash off again because it's so close so close so-very-very-close-don't-let-it-get-away!


Breaking news! Reports of a man-like dinosaur appearing in the local natural park! The creature attacked campers in the local park late last night, killing two and severely maiming a third before vanishing. It is described as a seven-foot lizard with the face of a man, and eight-inch claws on each foot... It is believed that this is yet another incident related to the drug called Swiit Driemz. Police have not yet identified the particular individual responsible for this, and this is the second attack to occur in this particular county...

Julia waited by herself in a room that the group had kindly put aside for her; It was just a modestly furnished bedroom. A bed, a chair, a small window, and a small set of drawers, this was all she had now… a swift, burning pang of sadness welled up inside her, she felt caged. It didn't matter that they had reason to do it, she understood… but it still hurt to have to be treated like some child. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, it stung, she realized, it really stung to looks back at what she used to be and realize how much that drug affected her. How could she visit her parents like this? Oh God, if they KNEW….. She didn't want to think about it, they'd come to the wrong conclusions….

She thought back to the meeting, the looks on their faces as she explained what happened, watching as the blood slowly drained from their faces. She already knew what it meant, and what it was going to escalate to. This wasn't going to be pretty in the least, or fun. The worst part was, she wasn't allowed to leave now until they got everything under control.

She couldn't leave. And what's worse, they told her what had happened to her body because of the drug. She was shown the scan of her brain, she saw the scar tissue, but she still couldn't believe it. She listened to her own heart for a moment, using a stethoscope, she couldn't hear it, but that was probably because she didn't really know what a regular heartbeat sounded like, there was nothing to compare it to., but still, knowing that her body was irreversibly changed had made her blood run cold.

They had given her restrictions, numerous ones, but she didn't feel like listening to them. Why should she? They didn't understand her… She moves around the room and then set some of her bags down, then left to get the rest from the hallway…. Moving from a dorm to this tiny room took no time at all, it was pathetic and annoying, but there was nothing she could do abut it… they were convinced that she was a danger to others, so she went along with it, grudgingly.

She felt emo, so she laid out on the bed and popped in her earphones, turned her iPod on and listened to Sugababes – Follow Me Home. She was just getting to the chorus when there was a knock at the door, she pulled one of the earphones out and then looked into the doorway from her bed, propping herself up on her elbows. Sarah was leaning against the doorframe, watching her. Julia felt like some kind of caged animal at the zoo, she felt like telling Sarah to just leave, but then the woman came and sat on the bed and Julia moved to give her more room.

"I'm worried that you hate us for doing this to you, but there was no choice, sweetie…. You were able to release your beast when you were daydreaming…. That's not normal." She murmured comfortingly.

"Right….. and being able to summon beasts when you're asleep…is totally normal to start off?" Julia remarked, raising a brow.

The song changed to "Get Sexy", still by Sugababes, Sarah could hear the chorus playing and gave her a disapproving look. "Should you really be listening to a song with lyrics like that? I mean…. I just think that-

"You're not my mother, don't act like it." Julia snapped, "Besides, this is pretty tame song… There's no swear words." She added and Sarah shook her head.

"Cuz I'm too sexy in this club?" Sara repeated one of the lines from the chorus and Julia got up and shoved her out of the room.

"Go find out how this mess can be fixed." Julia remarked, then stopped, her eyes followed a gurney that was being pushed down the hallway down to the infirmary.

"How much was in that one's system?" She asked timidly, obviously fearful.

"Not much, that one should be able to recover if they get good care by a…. practiced doctor." Sarah mused and Julia gave her an odd look, then her eyes widened.

"YOU KIDDNAPED A DOCTOR TOO?! NOT JUST ME?!" She shrieked and Sarah put a hand over her mouth.

"No…. We persuaded him to come. We do need him, and we CAN pay him…" Sarah remarked.

"Who brought him in?" Julia sat back on her bed, tucking her legs under herself, listening carefully.

"We thought Zachary would be able to do the job, and apparently he did very well." Sarah answered then left Julia to her thoughts.

"Can he control dreams too?" She asked quietly, Sarah stopped, the side of her mouth pulling into a troubled frown.

"No. He's here to help with the victims we find, we're hoping that all these cases start being moved to our jursdictiction…. I think this doctor is the only one who's correctly treating the patients, and he doesn't even know everything that there is to know. We figured that he'd also like to meet with Matilda…" Sarah trailed off, and Julia knew that she should stop asking questions, but one more couldn't hurt, right?

"Who is he?"

"Doctor John Corpuz." Sarah answered curtly then stalked off, leaving Julia to think.


"I don't like this!" Matilda yelped, cornered in her lab by Zachry, "I'm not meeting with that doctor! He'll judge me as just some criminal! Or he'll get too interested, or he'll—She was silenced as Zachary wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her cheek.

"Please? For me? Just one little talk?" He whimpered the words, pathetically and in a begging tone. Dammit, for a man who was almost thirty, he still could pull off the "Puppy eyes" pretty damned well. Matilda finally yielded to his pleas and sighed.

"Bring him in…. It's for the good of the patients…." She muttered, already miffed.

"THANK YOU!" Zachary shouted, then planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I swear, I'll pay you back for this-

"YOU BETTER! I hate meeting with doctors….they smell like rubbing alcohol and blood…" Matilda muttered softly, then shoved Zachary out of the room, then went back to inspecting a small spray canister marked with a dream bubble, like they have in cartoons and graphic novels. Little clouds getting big and bigger until you come to the giant mass of cloud that is the "Dream". She pulled up her mask and began to swab it down, collecting different samples. Maybe something would come back, something to identify the can with… a non-mass-used-paint, a different type of plastic than most companies use, any number of things….
Jack had no idea where he was. The man in the middle of the road, Zachary, as he offhandedly identified himself, only asked him to wear a blindfold and to let him drive. Life's little blessing--the stranger did not damage Jack's car while he was behind the wheel. Life's little twist--the stranger didn't deign to inform the good doctor where here was.

"You're job here will be quite simple and well within your capabilities," Zachary said as he guided the dark-haired physician through the plain halls. "You want to help these victims and learn more about Swiit Driems. We will provide you with patients to examine, free reign to examine them in, and expert opinions on topics that you wouldn't...normally find in a hospital setting."

"You're talking about the paranormal," Jack said. Zachary gave him a look over the shoulder, to which the doctor added, "Amazing what little things you hear when people ramble in their sleep. I don't personally believe in that sort of thing, but this drug's got a lot of smart people stumped."

"Then let's hope you're smarter than them."

Zachary led him to an equally plain room with a makeshift examination table covered by linen. A desk faced it, clearly for a doctor's use. There were simple tools in the drawers--nonsterile nytrile gloves, tongue depressors, a stethescope, a BP cuff with an attached gauge, and a battery-powered opthalmascope/otoscope with switchable heads.

The tools were cheaply made, the room cheaply furnished. But Jack was impressed. "You set this all up for me?"

"Yes. Frankly, Dr. Corpuz, we need your expertise. And you'll need tools to use that expertise." Zachary made for the door. "Wait here. We'll be sending one of our girls to you. Matilda. Take good care of her."

Scant minutes after Zachary left, a young girl came in, obviously Matilda. She seemed withdrawn, reluctant. She would not meet Jack's gaze at all and when he tried to shake hands, she recoiled. Their eyes met for the first time, hers filled with an angry fire; she did not want to be here.

Jack maintained a cool countennance, patting the exam table. "You must be Matilda. I'm Dr. John Corpuz. Everyone calls me Jack. You can too, if you'd like. This isn't exactly a normal exam, after all."

"Hrmph," she grunted in reply.

"I see. Well, you can sit down if you'd like. Or stand, if you prefer. Standing does get tiresome after a while, though." Jack took his own advice and sat at the desk. "Regardless, I'd like to know more about you, Matilda..."
Nick awoke, several hours later, his brain seeming as though it desired to seperate itself from the rest of his body in that its throbbeding was savage in intensity
"fuck" the Australian groaned softly, elongating the middle of the word so that it sounded alot more like faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark than anything else, and as he slithered out of the bed legs first, so that he didn't have to roll over or do all that much to stand, fe felt his head seem to spin slightly, which only seved to make the throbbing intensify, which in itself illicited another swearing outburst.
ugh moi facking heaaaaaad again the Australian 'bogan' accent revealed itself, though the 'eaaaaaaaad' was more of a croak than words.

padding softly to the rooms ensuite/bathroom/toilet-with-a-bath-n-shower-in-it-room Nick swayed slightly as he searched through the medicine cabinet
band-aids, pimple cream shiit, no-fucking-clue-what-that-is,oldmate cream...Ah Ritalin, thats part one....now, wheres me fucking panadol......
The Bogan Accent refused to part with the hungover Australian, as he narrated his search through the medicine cabinet, popping the 40mg LA tablet into his mouth and swallowing it without the aid of a glass of water, though as with all of hsi hungover exploits, it only half worked, and Nick stooped down to slurp some water from the tap, grimacing as he bent down, his head protesting the movement vigourosly.
"right, had me meds, had some water, cant have panadol 'cause there's prolly still grog in me blood, right, time to get the fuck over it and start the day....eh fuck that, ill go drink some more water, then have some bacon-n'-fuckin-eggs, that'l fix me right up!" Nick Fumbled around, sitting down every now and then to nurse his aching head, though after around an hour and a half he had showered, dried himself and put on new clothes, not to mention grabbing his wallet, Ipod, Gas Mask (which he only refrained from wearing because of the intensity of his migraine, which still felt as though his head was tearing itself apart) and his backpack, before sauntering out of his room, and heading for the outside exit of the Pub

"G'mornin Lad, dreamless night last night" the Irish-American's Voice was full of humor and only a hint of mockery
"Mornin Pat, sorry 'bout last night, i let myself get way too pissed again didnt I?" Nick half mumbled sheepishly, trying not to let Patrick known of his hangover, though the barman saw right through the weak facade, and his grin grew even wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief
"Can't pull the wool over me eyes that easily lad, but i won' keep ye any longer, go get yerself some breakfast, even if it is 10 oclock in the mornin" Pat said with a chuckle, for the msot part putting on the accent, for some reason it seemed to make Nick appear calmer, not to mention it was good for a laugh every now and then.
"Cheers, see you later today Pat" Nick said cheerfully, heading out into the bright sunlight
(Musical Ambiance: Prescription - MSI)

Matilda glowered up at Jack, not trusting him at all, not liking the way he had reacted to being taken here. Sure, he was doing great at helping these patients, but he obviously had no understanding for this problem. He didn't believe in the drug. She had been the one that had been first interested in this doctor, but he had failed her expectations in a few vital spots, but Zachary wasn't put off by his lack of understanding. But still, it peeved her that his understanding of the drug was less then rudimentary.

That really pissed her off, since she had created it. He was not even comprehending the fact that this was more that some fieldtrip. Arrogant. That's what this guy was. There wasn't much to prove what they were seeing, but if they had one single brain cell, they'd understand; the whole lot of them would understand that if you can hear it, if you can even see and feel it, then it's real.

"Doctor, I do not like idle chit-chat. I'm the creator of the drug that you're working with, and until you accept what is happening to these victims, I'd rather not have your help." She spat in response to his carefully calmed words. Her small frame shook with agitation and then she sat on the exam table, uttering a grunt.

"I'm the creator of the drug that has come to hinder the masses…. And the person who, forced by higher command, gave this drug to soldiers and to test subjects… Everyone that you'll meet here is in some way connected to me. The thing is, a small sample of my drug was stolen around a year ago….. It must have been analyzed and changed in some ways. The original was a capsule. When the outbreaks started, we noted that they had found a way to make it into a dissolvable powder. Then, a couple months ago, we took some samples found at crime scenes. It's changed to an inhalant." She paused for a moment, and then sighed, bringing a folder out of her purse, holding it out to the doctor.

"Maybe this will help you understand, Jack[/]…. These are real cases….real people… Zachary's in there, too, and so is everyone else on this team I even made notifications on the new victims. The drug is making these…. Unconscious creations more violent….And hurting the victims more." She murmured quietly, looking down at the file.

"You have clearance to perform exams on any of the noted cases in that folder. It might be a good idea to have a fresh pair of eyes go over the information." She stated softly, then looked up at Jack Corpuz.

"I need you to know that-

Without time to finish the thought, Matilda clamed up with the sound of approaching footsteps, each resounding thump seemed to make her paler. Zachary came into the room, downcast, clearly without any way of seeing a bright side to the dilemma he was about to explain.

"We lost…. The little girl…. The drug weakened her immune system too much…." He looked at Matilda, who closed her eyes for a moment.

"What kind of a God takes a child away from this earth when all she dreamt of was a future in being a goddamned ballerina?" Matilda opened her eyes slowly, mechanically almost.

"Set up for an autopsy. Maybe we can at least study the effects of the drug again." She slid off of the exam table, landing on her small feet and walked with mincing steps out of the room.

"I'm sorry about that… but I had to tell her, she's been the main care-taker of the child, and had been planning to adopt her… Any other questions that you need answers for can be asked of anyone. Just let her have some time. If you wish to help out on the autopsy suggested, that might be a good idea. It might help you understand this better. All of us have watched Matilda open up the bodies at least once. " Zachary stated silently, carefully as he stood near the door


Julia was still sitting in her room still when Sarah came in again, carrying a second set of bedding for the bed on the other side of the room. The woman went about making the bed up while Julia watched quietly for a moment.

"What's up? Is someone else going to be-

She stopped when she saw the look in Sarah's eyes.

"We lost the orphan…. She died an hour ago." She stated while tucking the sheets in properly then smoothed them out. A light in her eyes had dimmed for a moment, hen she looked up, trying to smile.

"We're taking in another girl, so I hope you two can be good roommates." She started and then patted the bed one more time, before leaving. Julia paused for a moment and then crept outside the room and explored.
(Musical Ambience: Elusive, Frank Klepacki, C&C Tiberian Sun: Firestorm)

Surveillance van 0838
Recon point 20...

The officer climbed into the back of the delivery van, a bag from a doughnut shop and a caryall with coffee cups in hand.

"They gave us a sack of doughnut holes with the extra bear claw." the agent said as he took his seat.

"I can just feel my arteries harden." the man at a video console said as he took his coffee and a bear claw.

"I know the doctor says I shouldn't have it but I love it anyway." the runner said as he settled into his listening post, donning a large pair of headphones. "Any activity?"

"Next to nothing. Think this is all reactionary?"

"We can't do much of anything until the apparitions appear." the other replied.

"Well, shit. More surveillance and less sleep..."

"No shit... It's Kosovo all over for me."
The place smelled of fried food and coffee, and for that, Nick was at least partially grateful, because if the place had smelled of anything else, then their coffee and fired food would probably have been shit.
That said, Nick wasnt always that fussed with what he ate when it came to unhealthy food.

fifteen minutes later, and Nick was wiping hamburger grease from his chin with a serviette, the table littered with the cutlery that came witha hamburger, chips, and a large caramel syrup laced coffee.

Nick rose from his seated position, stretching as he did so, and having paid earlier, the youth left the cafe, once more walking into the mid morning sunlight.
She was tired. So tired.

Day after day after day-becoming-night-becomes-day-again only to do the same things over and over again and it bored her to tears, this reality that seemed so bleak, so she sought escape.

Taking the stairs two at a time was a habit for her, even when the stampeding sound had others in the halls staring at her, but she couldn't be bothered to take in their expressions- all they saw of her was a short curtain of tawny hair, a teenager in too-large clothes, as she kept her eyes to the ground, the better to hide how hard it was just to keep them open. Her legs ached, but it was better than taking the elevator- knowing that she would lean her feverish head against the cool metal walls of the enclosure, let her eyes drift shut and will the dream to take her away-

She stumbled. Barely held back a swear. Then she was on her floor and hurrying quickly for her apartment and then sweet relief she was inside and locking the door and safe at last-

She barely wasted the time to strip off her clothing; she was so hot, she scarcely could stand to be lying in bed with all of that on, and she slipped into the cool sheets with a soft sound of relief.

The fever surrounded her and enveloped her, and slowly, grey life became black unconsciousness became-


It burned the eyes, drew a hiss from it's tongue, as it curled into it's hiding place, awaiting for the burning ember in the sky to finally sink into it's grave. It sought the sweet darkness of night and the enveloping cold air that would draw the heat out from beneath it's hide. It waited.

The sky burned red, and then slowly, night's dark blanket enveloped the world.

It hungered.

It opened it's mouth and hissed and
tasted and there it was, that sweet ambrosia that was the thick liquid copper that pulsed beneath soft flesh, it surrounded it, flooded its senses until it felt drunk with the scent of human sweat mingled with the faintest, smallest hint of the blood that burned just below the skin. It tasted, and wanted, and moved.

Out of it's hiding place, it leapt into the labyrinth of a forest of stone and metal, surrounded by waste, the smell of urine and bile heavy and sickening it until it ran, and ran and ran to try and find its way back to the shielding trees and sweet grasses and

BEAST It came right at it with a screech of fury and in panic it leapt into the air and landed on its nose as it skidded to a halt! The beast's hide was tough but it bent and yielded beneath its weight, and it heard squealing within the beast, and its mind could only think prey. It shrieked and lifted it's food and smashed in the broad plane of the beast's eyes and the screaming grew louder and the scent of blood hit it and it knew, knew the hunger the thirst and how it must sate both and it reached through jagged shards of teeth (or were they eyes?) and grabbed for the flimsy material the prey wore about it's chest-

Something heavy and hard struck it across the side of its face, and with a drawn out hiss it turned and saw the would-be hapless hero, paused in the act of raising another brick to throw.


The human paled, and it snarled and lunged and thrilled in the chase as the wretch turned and ran, the rush of blood and ecstasy in its veins as its feet struck the stone trails hard and the muscles of its legs tightened and its blood boiled, begging for a taste of
prey and refusing to stop for anything else but the entrails of the rabbit the fled squealing from its claws.