Date: Mon, 30 Aug 2010 21:44:14 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Dreamtrap - chapter 12

This is a story of fiction, all resemblances (dead or alive) are eerily
coincidental. Everything in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains
descriptive sexual scenes between males, if you are not supposed to read it
then don't. Feel free to e-mail me.

****

- XII -


            Raven had no idea how much time has passed -- it was impossible
to tell time in this place. He also wasn't sure if time even ran the same
way here as it did in reality. They walked through the mirrors slowly,
staying close to each other -- they were perfectly aware of the fact that if
they managed to get separated in this place, they would probably never find
each other again.

   "This is useless," Raven said finally in a tired and frustrated voice
after they backtracked after yet another dead-end. "I mean, everything
around here looks the same. We could go in circles for all we know."

   Desmond reluctantly agreed with him. Usually, he never had any problems
with directions of any kind -- it was as if there were some sort of a map and
a compass in his head. This place, however, was maddening. His inner compass
was useless here; there was no North or South, there were only mirrors,
false reflected corridors, and countless dead-ends.

   "We might as well just sit here," he said gloomily. "There is probably a
better chance of the damn exit popping right in front of us than actually
finding it in this place..."

   "Might as well," Raven agreed with a heavy sigh, and pressed his back
into the smooth mirror behind him, sliding down to his reflected self on the
floor. "You don't have any smokes, do you?" he asked a few minutes later,
after Desmond sat next to him.

   "No," the green-eyed man sighed with regret. "Funny thing, too... Every
time I end up in someone's dreams, I am cigarettes-free. Annoying, really,"
he nodded thoughtfully.

   They were silent for several more minutes.

   "So, how does your ability work exactly?" Raven asked finally, and
Desmond turned his head to look at him. "I mean," Raven shifted slightly,
trying to get more comfortable, and realizing that it was not possible -- the
floor was mercilessly hard. "Apparently, you are called `a dream
manipulator'..." he continued with a small sigh. "Well, can you actually
manipulate dreams...?"

   "Yes," Desmond nodded slowly.

   "What's the point of it?" Raven narrowed his eyes with genuine interest.
"I mean, they are dreams; everything that you witness has happened already.
What's the point of the manipulation?"

   "Yes and no," Desmond said as slowly as before, as if trying to figure
out the best way to say it. "I mean, `yes and no' about them being just
dreams of the events of the past," he clarified. "I guess whenever I visit
someone's dream, I don't simply end up in their sleeping head; I visit the
actual event..."

   "You travel through time?" Raven asked incredulously, and Desmond made an
impatient grimace.

   "No," he said somewhat shortly. "Time has nothing to do with this..." He
ran his fingers through his short hair quickly, as if expecting to pull on
his original long strands, which was probably the case. He sighed and
lowered his arm. "See, when you dream of your past, the part of you actually
goes back there," he glanced at Raven. "Not the physical part," he shook his
head. "Spiritual, astral, whatever you wanna call it... Well," he sighed
again. "That's the part I visit," he nodded slightly. "And since the astral
part is re-living the actual event, it's not going to remember me, because
it has not met me yet... Makes sense?" he looked at Raven again.

   "I remembered you," the smaller man said pointedly, and Desmond grimaced
again.

   "I have no clue how that was even possible," he said with slight
irritation. "Plus, you said that Salamander didn't think it was possible
either..."

   Raven looked at him thoughtfully.

   "So, wait..." he said after a minute or two. "If you are in the past...
Astral past, whatever," he shrugged. "Does it mean that you can change the
actual event...?"

   "There is a possibility," Desmond said unwillingly. "I have never tested
it, and I am not going to... Well..." he frowned tightly. "I guess I *did *test
it, but in that particular case, I think I was supposed to do that..."

   "Huh?" Raven stared at him, and the ex-assassin shook his head.

   "Never mind," he muttered. "That's why I didn't uncuff you back then," he
looked at Raven with apologetic shadow in his green eyes. "Sorry about
that... It's just..." he looked into the mirror in front of them. "I had no
idea if that would change anything or not, and I had no idea how major those
changes would be. I didn't want to risk it," he nodded and looked at Raven
again.

   "I see..." Raven said slowly, thinking that if someone uncuffed him back
then, eighteen years ago, he would leave the house, but not the town, since
he wouldn't get all that cash that he got on the night he actually escaped.
If he never left the town, he would probably never end up in that big city
where he truly started building his thieving career. He would never meet
Magda eventually, and as a result, she would never send him to Julian's
house for that green rock...

   He blinked somewhat rapidly, thinking that he should be grateful to
Specter for not interfering with the flow of the events in that dream;
otherwise, there would be a big possibility of him losing Julian without
even knowing that.

   "I don't know if that would apply in your case though," Desmond said
suddenly. "I mean, you kept all your memories, and you knew who I was from
the very first time... So maybe in your case, it would be different..."

   "Maybe," Raven sighed, wishing for a cigarette. "Or maybe not... Thanks
for not meddling..."

   Desmond threw him a quick, suspicious glance, as if looking for shreds of
sarcasm, but Raven was dead serious. The ex-assassin shrugged without saying
anything.

   "I still don't understand how it was possible for you to recognize me,"
he muttered several minutes later.

   "I found a short paragraph online yesterday," Raven said slowly. "Well, I
think it was yesterday," he shrugged. "Maybe it was a month ago by now,
since there is no way to tell how fast time moves in this place..."

   Desmond winced slightly, as if he didn't think about it.

   "Anyway," Raven continued. "It said that sometimes, it *is *possible. It
said that as to every rule, there is an exception," he looked at Desmond
seriously. "The bond," he finished, and Desmond blinked at that.

   "What kind of a bond?" he asked with puzzled frown.

   "I don't know," Raven shook his head. "That's all it said."

   "You mean, that's all you remember," Desmond rolled his eyes in the
irritable manner Raven was getting used to by now.

   "No," he said somewhat patiently. "That's all it said; my memory isn't
that bad... It said..." He frowned for a few seconds. "It said, `However, as
to every rule, there is an exception, i.e. the bond'..." He looked at the
ex-assassin seriously. "That's what it said, and there was nothing else.
Yes," he nodded when Desmond opened his mouth to ask the inevitable
question. "I am sure. I re-read the damn paragraph ten times if not more.
That was all it said."

   "If I were bound to someone, it would be Rayhe," Desmond muttered with a
deep frown. "How in the bloody hell would we have some sort of a bond?"

   "I don't know," Raven sighed. "Maybe it's because you saved my ass..."

   "No," Desmond slowly shook his head. "I saved Rayhe's ass way before I
saved yours... Believe me," he nodded firmly. "If I were bound to someone,
it would be Rayhe!"

   "Well," Raven muttered with slight frustration. "Same goes about Julian
and me. I don't see how I would be bound to you... However, apparently, we *
are*bound...!"

   "Maybe there was something else," Desmond was getting more and more
frustrated and irritable, and Raven silently admired Rayhe's patience -- he
had to deal with the man on daily basis. "Maybe it didn't mention it..."

   "Maybe," Raven agreed mildly and got up. "Let's move around," he said.
"My ass is hurting from sitting on the floor for so long," he explained when
Desmond looked up, his lips pursed.

   "Right," the ex-assassin muttered gloomily and got up as well. "Which
way?"

   "Could care less," Raven answered with honest tiredness.

   Desmond silently started walking to the right, and Raven followed him
without saying a single word.

   ..."So," Raven said after what felt like half an hour. "What's with the
hair?"

   Desmond looked at him with a slightly confused expression, and then his
forehead smoothed out.

   "Oh," he sighed and ran his fingers through his short hair. "Decided to
cut it," he said with a shadow of regret.

   "Was ready for a change?" Raven looked to his right, thinking he just saw
a corridor. "Or simply got tired of it?" Yeah, he thought, there was
definitely a corridor. He grabbed Desmond's sleeve, pulling him along. The
ex-assassin followed without arguing.

   "Sort of," he said vaguely, and Raven almost asked him which part of his
question he was agreeing with, but then decided against that. He didn't
really care.

   "Holy hell," he muttered a few minutes later. "This is not a dead-end...!
Be still, my heart..."

   "Is there any pattern to the jumps?" Desmond asked suddenly.

   "No," Raven answered bitterly. "It's completely random."

   "How do you know about this...? I am not going any farther," Desmond
announced gloomily and pulled his sleeve free.

   Raven sighed and slid onto the hard floor next to him.

   "A couple of weeks ago," he started saying slowly, watching his
reflection in the mirror ahead mimic him silently. "I bought this
painting..."



****



   "...It changed itself?" Desmond blinked. "Hold on..." he shook his head.
"So you have noticed two changes in that damn painting, one of them quite
major," he shifted slightly and pressed his back harder into the mirror
behind him. "And you never breathed a word of it to Salamander? Holy hell,
why?"

   "I was about to," Raven nodded. "It was bothering me. I was about to,
but..." he coughed. "I got distracted," he finished with another nod.

   "Distracted?" Desmond stared at him. "What could possibly distract you
from mentioning a painting that is clearly far from harmless...? Oh, never
mind," he muttered when Raven simply looked at him, saying nothing.

   "The first change was that vanished reflection," Raven sighed again.
"Then next morning, Julian left for some meeting for the entire day. That
was when I saw that the woman's posture was different..."

   "Did you recognize the woman?" Desmond shoved his hand into his pocket in
mechanical gesture, as if he was diving for his pack of cigarettes. Then he
sighed, pulled the hand out, and pressed it into the mirror of the floor
instead.

   "No," Raven shook his head. "Have never seen her in my life. Well, then I
woke up from that first dream..." he glanced at Desmond, who gave him a
slight nod. "...I went to get the frame from the store, came back home,
and..." he sighed, remembering the activities that took place after he came
back from the store. "Decided to go back to sleep," he said with a firm nod.

   "I see," Desmond muttered thoughtfully.

   Suddenly, Raven thought of something and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

   "Are you in my head right now?" he asked in a low, even voice.

   Desmond glanced at him sideways.

   "No," he sighed. "I can control that rather well by now. I don't hear
anyone unless I want to; and no," he looked at Raven again. "I do not
eavesdrop unless I absolutely have to, which is not the case."

   Raven relaxed slightly and looked to his right. He stared at the infinity
of flickering mirrors for several seconds, and was about to turn away and
probably get up (his ass started to hurt again) when suddenly, there was a
quick, shadowy movement somewhere deep in the mirrors. He jumped up on his
feet.

   "What?" Desmond looked up at him with a frown.

   "There is something there," Raven muttered without looking away from the
distant mirrors. "I just saw something move."

   Desmond got up in one smooth, quick motion.

   "Let's go," he said tightly, and they did just that.

   They walked slowly and cautiously, their footsteps trembling in smooth,
indifferent surfaces of countless mirrors. Desmond glanced at Raven, whose
expression was tight and somewhat worried, his eyes fixed on the reflections
ahead of them. Desmond was about to say something along the lines of `Are
you sure you saw it? Maybe it was nothing...?' when suddenly, something
moved not too far from them, and Desmond immediately turned his head.

   "There!" Raven breathed. "Did you see that?"

   "Yeah," Desmond muttered, glancing around warily. Whatever that shadow
was, it moved too fast for him to be able to tell what it was and where it
went. "Damn, I hate this place...!"

   They walked a bit farther, Desmond's eyes darting around with tight
alert, when suddenly, there was someone's low, quiet laughter ringing
through flickering glass. Raven froze. He recognized that laughter
immediately. The reflected infinity ahead of them trembled slightly, and
then the shadow formed itself into a person, who took a couple of steps
forward, and stopped, his head cocked to the left, small, satisfied smile
playing on his mouth. Raven started to shake.

   "Hey, kid," the man said. "Long time no see...! How's it going? I hope
you were able to put my money to good use..." He laughed softly. "No hard
feelings really..." He raised his hands, and then laughed again. "Actually,
no, that's not true... I have one very hard feeling as we speak..."

   Raven took a step backwards, his inner-self shrinking back into his
sixteen-year-old state of mind. Desmond grabbed his shoulder forcefully,
which made the smaller man blink and look up.

   "It's not real," Desmond said quietly. "It's an illusion...!"

   "I do expect you to pay me back, however," the man continued meanwhile,
ignoring Desmond completely. "With interest..." he nodded, and Raven's
shoulders tensed up.

   "Look at me," Desmond said quietly. "Look at me!" he demanded and shook
Raven's shoulder when the smaller man stood there, frozen. Raven slowly
shifted his gaze away from hateful features. "This is nothing but illusion,"
Desmond said firmly. "He is empty..." he glanced at the still talking man.
"There is not a single thought or emotion in him... He is entirely empty,
just a shell... Let's go..."

   Raven turned around, his shoulders still tensed, and he was about to
start walking back the way they came from, when Desmond jerked him back.

   "No," the green-eyed man said quietly. "We are going forward. Apparently,
we are going the right way, and someone..." he glanced around quickly. "Or
something doesn't want us to keep moving in that particular direction...
Let's go...!"

   "I can't..." Raven muttered, his gaze fixed on the speaking man. "I
can't...!"

   Desmond didn't say anything to that; he started walking towards the man
who stood without moving, blocking their way, talking still. Raven stood
frozen for several seconds, and then he forced himself to start walking,
feeling as if he had impossibly heavy weights on each ankle, pulling him
down, rooting him to the floor. He followed Specter, who never even slowed
down when they got closer to that man.

   "...No lube for you tonight, kid," he said with the same small smile, and
Raven expected Desmond to knock him onto the floor when the green-eyed man
just kept on walking.

   Instead of falling down or pushing Desmond away, the man's entire form
trembled slightly, and then he burst into a white cloud of mirrored smoke,
dissolving into nothing almost immediately.

   "Illusion," Desmond half-turned his head towards Raven, who was finally
able to move faster.

   "Yeah," Raven muttered, catching up with him. "Smoke and mirrors..." he
snorted softly after several minutes of silence. "Literally," he nodded, and
Desmond let out short laughter, which immediately bounced off several
mirrors at once.

   They walked without saying anything else, the corridor stretching
endlessly in front of them, all those mirrors whispering silently. Suddenly,
there was yet another movement in front of them, and Raven prepared himself
to see the same man or maybe his Aunt with her beloved cat, repeating,
"Illusion, it's just an illusion," in his head silently, when to his
surprise, the shadows transformed into someone he didn't recognize. Desmond,
however, stumbled slightly and slowed down until he came to a complete stop.
"I guess now it's his turn," Raven thought, looking at the ex-assassin's
hateful and dark expression.

   Raven looked at the illusion in front of them. It looked like a tall,
bald man, who was wearing a monocle. Desmond let out scowling laughter.

   "Nice try," he said in a low voice. "Really don't want us to walk that
way, huh? Tough," he nodded and started walking slowly.

   The man stretched his mouth in a slow smile.

   "Hey, precious," he said in almost flirty voice, which made Raven blink.
"Came back for more?"

   "Yeah," Desmond nodded energetically. "Gonna waste you once again; the
first time was very satisfactory."

   With that, he lunged towards the man and burst through him, creating yet
another cloud of white smoke.

   "Fucker," Desmond muttered through his clenched teeth. "Whatever sucked
us in here," he looked at Raven. "...apparently can get into our heads.
Ignore everything you see if it is something from your past."

   "Yeah," Raven nodded slowly. "Who was that guy?" he asked suddenly, and
Desmond looked at him seriously. "What did he do?" Raven wouldn't look away.

   "Something I had to kill him for," Desmond answered calmly and produced a
small, dark smile. "Let's move. Maybe there is another exit forming there
somewhere..."

   "Maybe," Raven sighed, letting the subject go. "Maybe..."

 ****

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