Date: Sun, 3 Oct 2010 17:46:18 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Dreamtrap - chapter 24

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.

****

 XXIV -


            By Monday night, Henry abandoned all hope that he still had
splashing on the bottom of his soul. He painted probably twenty (if not
more) exits by now, and each one of those would inevitably disappear. Some
would disappear in an hour, while the others would last up to five hours;
however, it didn't matter how long the portal would be present in the
goddamn painting -- eventually it would erase itself as if it was never
there.

   Right now, it was 11:15 on Monday night, and Henry's eyes felt like
someone rubbed a hell of a lot of sand into them. Ever since Julian and him
got here (which was on Saturday morning), Henry got maybe nine hours of
sleep total -- even with Gabriel's promise of letting him sleep for four
hours in a row, it didn't exactly happen that way. Julian (who slept even
less than that, to Henry's gloomy and almost indifferent surprise) would
make sure that he kept the artist awake until it seemed that Henry was about
to collapse on the floor. Then he would reluctantly let him get some sleep,
but never longer than two and a half hours.

   ..."It's gone," Julian said sharply, yanking Henry out of half-sleeping
state.

   "Nngh..." the artist replied, opening his eyes.

   "The exit is gone," the blond said in the same sharp, impatient voice.
"Get up!"

   Henry gritted his teeth yet again, suppressing a very strong, almost
hysterical desire to tell Salamander to go fuck himself in every way
imaginable, but he bit his tongue and got off the chair where he sat for the
last half an hour -- this particular exit did not last long at all.

   He rubbed his eyes furiously and walked up to the painting, reaching for
the palette. Suddenly, he stopped and stared at the painting, wondering
whether he was seeing things, which wouldn't surprise him a single bit --
ever since he was a kid, he had to have at least seven hours of sleep every
night, and not nine hours in three days. He leaned closer, frowning
thoughtfully, and then realized that he wasn't hallucinating.

   "They are back," he muttered, and Julian turned around, looking at him
with a small frown. "They are back," Henry said again and glanced at the
unconscious men on the bed for a second.

   Ever since Saturday morning, there was no trace of Desmond and Raven
anywhere in the painting. It was as if they simply disappeared off the
radar; the painting would still change, it would replace some mirrors, would
throw in those eerie red eyes, it would change the woman's expression, but
it would not capture a single reflection of either man.

   Julian crossed the room in several quick steps and stared at the painting
without blinking. Henry was right -- both men were clearly visible between
several mirrors on farther right.

   "Right here!" the blond smacked his finger into one of the mirrors in
front of Specter and Raven. "Paint it right here! It's in front of them...!
They should be able to see it..."

   "They are back?" Gabriel said incredulously when he walked into the room
with a fresh pot of coffee in his hand -- Henry had no idea how many of those
they emptied by now.

   Rayhe slammed the pot onto the dresser and quickly walked towards the
painting.

   "Right here," Julian repeated. "In front of them..."

   "No," Gabriel immediately shook his head. "It's not in front of them," he
glanced at the blond. "This is an illusion! Look here..." he pointed towards
a row of mirrors. "Those are reflections, not the actual thing... You can
tell it by the way their shadows lie on the floor. This is not in front of
them, this is behind...! Put it right here," he moved his finger to the
opposite corner of Julian's initiate order.

   Salamander frowned at that.

   "No," he said slowly. "This..." he pointed at the same row. "...is an
actual thing! This..." he swiftly moved his finger. "...is the
reflection...!"

   "No!" Rayhe replied heatedly. "Open your eyes and look...!"

   "My eyes *are *open," the blond said through his clenched teeth. "And if
you..."

   "Oh, for fuck sake..." Henry said somewhat loudly, interrupting both men.
"Are you going to stand here and argue until they disappear out of the
painting again?"

   That immediately put an end to the argument.

   "I'll put it right here," Henry said shortly and pointed at the mirror in
the perfect middle of both orders.

   Julian gritted his teeth and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

   "Fine," he said tightly. "That's fine..."

   "Paint," Rayhe muttered after Henry gave him a questioning look.
"Paint...!"

   They watched the artist quickly create yet another exit -- it didn't take
Henry longer than ten minutes to be able to paint those portals by now.
Gabriel walked to the dresser and filled his mug with coffee, his hands
shaking, eyes red and tired. He slept as much as Julian did -- they would
switch shifts, and he kept loading on caffeine even though he suspected that
didn't do much for him anymore. He left the coffee pot alone and walked to
the bed, setting his mug onto the nightstand and lowering himself onto the
edge of the bed, next to Desmond.

   "Call his name!" Julian said suddenly, and Gabriel looked up. "Call his
name," the blond repeated. "He can hear thoughts, there is a chance he would
be able to hear you..."

   Gabriel rolled his eyes with unhidden frustrated annoyance.

   "Yeah," he said sharply. "And I have never even thought of that before
your genius brought it up! I've been calling his name ever since he slid
into this goddamn coma...!"

   Julian shook his head impatiently.

   "You didn't have the painting then," he said with the same irritated
intonation. "Call his bloody name, Rayhe! That might lead them to the exit!"

   Gabriel blinked at that several times, and then he leaned closer to
Desmond and started talking to him softly.



****

*Behind the mirror.*



   "There is something there," Raven said in a tight, quiet voice. "You see
it?"

   Desmond narrowed his eyes.

   "Yeah," he said slowly, intent frown crisscrossing his forehead. A minute
later, the frown smoothed out. "It's another illusion," he sighed. "No
thoughts, no feelings," he answered Raven's silent question. "It's an
illusion; let's go."

   Raven sighed and followed him.

  "Wonder what it is this time," he muttered, and Desmond shrugged.

   "It doesn't matter," he said indifferently while they were getting closer
to the illusion. "Just remember, this is nothing but..."

   They came to a dead stop at the same time, their expressions similarly
dumbfounded.

   "What the..." Raven said incredulously after a few minutes of stunned
silence.

   They were staring at themselves in the middle of the mirrored floor; both
of their illusionary selves were ass-naked and it seemed like they were in
the middle of a very intense sex session. Illusionary Raven slowly turned
his head and looked at the original with a lazy smile. He gave him a slow
wink, and then his back arched tightly while he let out a loud, unrestricted
moan, his eyes rolling backwards.

   Desmond tilted his head to the right, bending sideways with a thoughtful
frown, watching his illusionary self perform some impressively creative move
while shifting the position.

   "Huh..." he said somewhat appreciatively. "I will actually try this with
Rayhe after we get out of here... That looks..."

   "Are you serious?" Raven interrupted him with quiet restraint in his
voice.

   Desmond looked at him and shrugged.

   "Yeah," he said. "I mean..." He glanced at his mirrored twin who
performed yet another move, which caused Raven's copy to moan, `Oh, hell,
yes...' while his hands dug their fingers into the floor. "This looks like
fun, so..."

   Raven's eyelid twitched ever so slightly.

   "You are just going to stand here and watch?" he interrupted the
ex-assassin with the same tight, quiet restraint in his intonation.
"Really?"

   Desmond blinked a couple of times and glanced at their copies again. It
seemed like Raven's twin was getting closer and closer to the edge, both of
his legs wrapped around mirrored Desmond's neck, his hands digging their
fingers into his own wildly bucking hips helplessly.

   "Errr..." Desmond said, and Raven rolled his eyes with short, irritated
sigh.

   "Let's go," he said through his clenched teeth and walked towards his
nearly climaxing illusionary self. "Fucking A," he muttered under his
breath, kicking one of his feet forward and causing the illusion to burst
into a cloud of white smoke.

   "And you called *me *fucked-up," he said after five or so minutes, his
hands shoved into his pockets.

   "You are," Desmond nodded, not looking even remotely embarrassed. Raven
shot him a dark look.

   "I am not the one who was getting off on watching ourselves fuck," he
said pointedly.

   "I wasn't getting off," Desmond shrugged, pausing slightly at yet another
intersection. "I was memorizing the moves," he nodded and started walking to
the right. "You have to admit..." He threw a quick glance at his gloomy
companion. "That was impressive...! I have to give it to whoever is doing
this shit to us... They have some good imagination...!"

   "Please!" Raven said in a low voice. "It's not their imagination; they
got it from my head!"

   Desmond slowed down just a tad and looked at him with a small frown.

   "It was Julian's invention," Raven nodded. "Keep walking."

   Desmond pressed his lips somewhat tighter at this bit of information and
picked up the pace once again.

   "And yes," Raven said several minutes later in the same low voice. "It *
is *fun... You should try it really," he nodded with a small smile.

   Desmond's expression clouded with slight annoyance, as if he couldn't
believe that he just complimented Salamander, even though it was
unknowingly. They walked in silence for a while, Raven's hands still in his
pockets, Desmond's posture tight. Suddenly, the ex-assassin slowed down
somewhat, puzzled expression crawling onto his face.

   "What?" Raven frowned when Desmond slowed down even more, staring into
the floor intently.

   "Shhh!" Desmond's hand flew up, telling Raven to zip it.

   "Oh, hell," Raven thought desperately. "What now...?" He glanced around,
positive that Specter just heard more clanking sounds -- those damn
nightmarish claws stuttering into these bloody mirrors. He gritted his
teeth, looking for an alcove. He saw one several feet away from them, and he
was sure that's where Desmond would go, so he just blinked rapidly when
instead of doing that, the other man turned around and slowly started to
walk back to the intersection they passed several minutes ago.

   "What are you..." Raven followed him with a deep frown on his forehead.

   "Shhh!" Desmond hissed again, with more impatience this time.

   Raven gritted his teeth and locked his jaw tightly, saying nothing else.
Desmond cocked his head slightly to the left, clearly listening to something
only he could hear -- no matter how hard Raven tried, he heard nothing.

   They backtracked to the intersection, and Desmond hesitantly took the
left fork. Raven sighed inaudibly, following him closely. Suddenly, Specter
stopped, frowned deeper, and turned around yet again. Raven almost said
another `What?' but then he just sighed again and kept silent. They came
back to the intersection, Desmond narrowed his eyes, and then took the
diagonal fork instead; this time, he moved with less hesitation.

   "Yeah..." he muttered a minute later and walked faster.

   "Wha..." Raven started saying, just to be shushed impatiently yet again.

   "Bloody hell," he thought warily. "Don't tell me he is having auditory
hallucinations...! Crap, that would be disastrous, to say the least..."

   He gritted his teeth helplessly when they got to another wild
intersection, which didn't look like an intersection at all; instead, it
looked like some demented, twisted spiral with several paths sticking out of
it in all possible directions. To Raven's disbelief, Desmond didn't even
slow down this time; the ex-assassin smoothly turned left, walking even
faster by now.

   Raven let out a small, quiet sigh, keeping up with Desmond's pace easily,
glancing around every several seconds. Desmond mumbled something else that
Raven didn't even try to decipher, and then he dove into an alcove on their
right. Raven frowned at that, thinking that they were going to end up in
another dead-end, when to his enormous surprise, that wasn't the case -- the
alcove turned out to be yet another path. He looked at Specter, thoughtfully
narrowing his eyes. It was obvious that the man did not have auditory
hallucinations; whatever it was that he was hearing right now, was leading
both of them somewhere.

   "If this is another trick..." Raven thought warily, and then suddenly, he
heard that nauseating `clank-clank' again; he broke in cold sweat when he
realized that Desmond missed it completely -- he was so caught up in whatever
it was they were following that he didn't pay attention to anything else.

   "Desmond!" Raven called in urgent whisper, and gritted his teeth at
impatient and angry `Shhh!'

   He lunged forward and grabbed the other man's arm, forcing him to stop.
Desmond whirled around, his expression frustrated, dark, and downright
pissed off.

   "What?!" he hissed, his green eyes narrowing to mad slits. "What is..."

   "Shhh!" Now it was Raven's turn to shush him.

   Desmond's jaw locked tight, his expression clearly saying several very
unkind things at once, when there was that sound again, and Specter's eyes
widened at that.

   "Yeah!" Raven thought furiously. "No shit!"

   "Goddammit...!" Desmond muttered, glanced around quickly, grabbed Raven's
shoulder, and yanked him into the nearest alcove. "Okay..." he whispered
almost inaudibly into Raven's ear. "We wait until it walks by, and then we
charge... I am not taking any chances...!"

   "Charge where?" Raven thought without opening his mouth.

   "Home, I hope," Specter muttered, and Raven stared at him without
blinking.



****

*Sleepless reality.*



   "It's fainting," Julian said sharply, watching the painting like a very
wary hawk.

   "Okay," Henry shrugged with slow puzzlement. "When it disappears, I'll
make another one..."

   "No," the blond looked at him without blinking. "Refresh it...! I want it
to remain there. I don't know if the time-flow over there is the same as
here; ten minutes in reality might be a week in there... Therefore, refresh
it and keep it alive!"

   Henry sighed and reached for his brush. It took him less than a minute to
make several quick, refreshing touch-ups of color, and the portal came back
to blue vividness. Henry looked at Gabriel with a small frown; it seemed
like Rayhe didn't even hear those several sentences the artist and
Salamander just exchanged. Gabriel kept muttering something into Desmond's
unresponsive ear without looking up.

   "Don't worry about him," Julian said sharply without taking his eyes off
the blasted painting. "Just be ready to refresh it again when the time
comes..." He looked at Henry. "Do *not *fall asleep," he said quietly, and
Henry sighed once again.

   "I won't," he nodded and leaned on the wall, figuring that it would be
safer for him this way -- if he sat down, he probably *would *doze off, thus
pissing the blond off, which was never a good idea.

   He stared out of the window for fifteen minutes or so, the darkness
outside caressing his tired eyes, creating a comfortable illusion of safety.

   "Again!" Julian said as sharply as before, and the artist blinked
somewhat rapidly, tearing his gaze away from the window.

   "Holy hell..." he thought dumbfoundedly. "Did I just fall asleep with my
eyes open...?"

   "Again!" Julian repeated with more impatience, and Henry stumbled towards
the painting.

   He frowned when he realized that the blond's worry was very much
justified -- the portal looked faint; so faint that it looked like it was
about to disappear any minute. Henry bit his lip, frantically smashing his
brush into the palette he never put aside. He quickly placed several
trembling strokes onto the canvas, bringing that portal back to its blue,
vivid life. The he looked at Salamander with a small frown.

   "How long has it been since I refreshed it?" he asked, and Julian glanced
at the clock.

   "Fifteen minutes," he said shortly, and Henry frowned deeper.

   "How long has it been since the first time it started to faint?" he
asked.

   "Half an hour or so," Julian answered tightly, and the artist bit his lip
harder.

   "It seems like it wants to disappear," he muttered. "And it was fainting
much quicker than it did the first time..." He looked at the painting again.
The portal seemed to be fine for now. "Julian, I don't think I will be able
to keep it up much longer," he said slowly without even noticing that he
just called Salamander by his first name. The blond didn't seem to care
about that.

   "I know," he said tightly. "Keep it alive for as long as you can."

   "I could paint another one right next to it," Henry offered, and Julian
immediately shook his head.

   "No," he muttered. "There is a chance they might cancel each other. Just
keep this one alive for as long as you can," he threw a quick glance at
Henry, and the artist nodded stiffly without looking away from the painting.

  ...The portal started to faint rapidly right after Henry almost let out a
shaky, relieved breath, seeing that it looked just fine.

   "Dammit...!" the artist muttered busily, his brush flying above the
canvas. He took a quick breath after he brought the portal to life yet
again. He glanced at the clock. "Shit..." he squeezed his eyes shut for a
short second -- this time, it has only been ten minutes before the exit
started to disappear. He had a very bad suspicion that soon enough, he would
be too late (his hand could only move that fast), and that the exit would
disappear for good before Henry would be able to finish his last refreshing
touch.

   "Just keep your brush ready," Julian muttered without looking at the
artist, and Henry gave him another stiff nod, registering Rayhe's soft
mutter somewhere deep inside his brain.



****

*Behind the mirror.*



   ..."Okay," Desmond muttered after yet another nightmarish apparition
walked by their alcove. "Let's go...!"

   They quickly walked out of their alcove and took several steps forward,
when they froze dead in their tracks. Right there, in front of them, there
was an exit -- that damn blue portal, which wasn't blinking or disappearing,
which meant they still had time. The problem, however, was the fact that
there were at least six of those grotesque creatures right in front of it,
and neither creature would move away. All six of them stayed rooted to the
mirrored floor; it seemed as if they were waiting for some sort of inaudible
signal, their eyes glowing the same dull-red, their tails twitching slightly
in the same nauseating rhythm.

   Raven's eyes widened to a comical degree when all of a sudden, one of the
mirrors next to those things shimmered slightly, and then there was yet
another apparition stepping out from nowhere, joining its fellow coworkers.

   "They breed from the mirrors...!" Raven thought in dull astonishment.
"Holy fuck...! They breed from the mirrors...!"

   Desmond gritted his teeth almost audibly, grabbed Raven's arm, and
dragged him back into that alcove again.

   "Okay," he hissed into Raven's ear once they were out of sight and
hearing range. "Here is the plan... Cover us, and we will run, okay? This is
our only goddamn chance; I don't think we'll get another...! Therefore, here
is the plan... Cover us until we get to that bloody portal...! Mind you, we
don't have much time...! Methinks that the damn exit will jump soon, so..."
He took a quick breath without moving away from Raven's ear. "Cover us, and
I will run fast, I promise!"

   "They will hear us," Raven thought quickly.

   "They won't see us," Desmond answered in barely audible whisper. "That
will confuse them just enough for us to get to the damn exit."

   Raven bit his lower lip hard. It was at least three hundred feet to that
exit, he knew that. He also knew that he almost lost it when they had to run
for some lousy one hundred feet between them and that short wall the first
time he introduced Desmond to his ability. Raven cursed desperately in his
head when he remembered those half-hearted efforts he was trying to induce
on himself several times a while back. `Try harder,' he recalled. `See if
you can prolong it...!'

   He gritted his teeth yet again after he remembered his response to
himself back then -- `I'll do it later!'

   "Fucking hell..." he thought, his eyes closed. "Never mind
self-punishment now...!" he locked his jaw tight. "Just pray that you'd be
able to do it; you don't have time...!"

   They carefully left their alcove, standing rigidly close to the wall,
never taking their eyes off standing still grotesques straight ahead. Raven
felt a cold shiver shoot down his spine when he realized that now there were
eight of them.

   "Okay," he thought quickly, staring at Desmond intently. "When I say,
`Run!' you run, got it? Don't wait for anything, don't look for anything,
just run...! And whatever happens, don't stop...! If I sound hysterical, run
faster... Do you understand me?" He threw an almost desperate glance at
Desmond, noting that the portal shimmered ever so slightly -- the damn thing
was about to start blinking, which was never good.

   Desmond gave him a quick, hard nod without looking away. Raven took a
deep breath and looked at the portal again.

   "Oh, bloody..." he howled desperately in his head when he saw the blue
light start to pulsate rhythmically and rather quickly. "Goddammit...! We
are not going to make it...!"

   Desmond gritted his teeth so hard that Raven could hear his jaw creak.
Suddenly, the portal blinked one last time, and then it became still again.
It never disappeared, never shimmered -- it remained still again.

   "What..." Raven blinked rapidly. "How...?"

   Desmond grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard, which Raven correctly
translated into, `Never mind what and how, just bloody go!' Raven nodded
rapidly, took another silent, deep breath, and narrowed his eyes. He wrapped
his fingers tighter around Desmond's, and without thinking anything else,
wrapped a blanket of invisibility around them. Usually, that blanket was
light, comfortable, and pleasant; now, however, it was thick, heavy, and
suffocating as hell.

   "Run!" he thought wildly, and Desmond hesitated for a second or two.

   Raven was about to unleash all his fury on Specter's head when he saw the
ex-assassin tearing almost all buttons off his shirt in one quick, impatient
move. He turned around and threw all those buttons behind them. Little
plastic circles bounced off mirrored walls and floor, creating quite a few
sounds.

   Every single one of the apparitions turned their head towards the noise
for a second or two, and then all of them took off at the same time, flying
by two men in quick, nauseating wave of deadly silence. Desmond grabbed onto
Raven's hand harder, and then they ran.

   Raven honestly thought that it would work and that he would be able to
cover both of them until they got to the portal, which flickered ever so
slightly again -- Desmond didn't lie when he said he would run fast. They
made it half-way through, when all of a sudden, the pulsating of blood in
Raven's temples became too much; suddenly, all he could see was blackness
spiking violent red, and all he could hear was loud furious roar of blood in
his ears.

   "I can't," he tried thinking but it didn't work. The farthest he got was
`I,' and then he could feel his hand losing grasp on Desmond's fingers while
that thick, suffocating blanket was sliding off them reluctantly. Raven
never even realized that he lost that invisible blanket because the reality
decided to turn itself off for a while, and he let go of Specter's hand,
slamming hard into the mirrored floor.

   The minute the grotesques heard the slam of his falling body, they turned
their heads in the same synchronized motion.

   "Fuck!" Desmond growled, when all eight pairs of glowing red eyes locked
on his very visible self. "Fuck...!"

   He yanked Raven's arm, throwing the unconscious man over his shoulder,
and lunged towards the portal, which starter pulsating rhythmically once
again. The grotesques never made a single sound, but Desmond knew they were
right behind him -- he saw how quickly those things could move and he heard
that nauseating, very loud clanking, which sounded too close by now.

   He forced himself to run even faster, and the minute his body obeyed,
there was a dry snapping sound very close to his leg. Desmond immediately
knew that one of the grotesques almost locked its jaw on the back of his
knee.

   The portal was blinking nonstop by now, and when Desmond performed a
final desperate lunge towards it, he expected to experience another very
hard impact with cold mirror, since he was positive that the damn portal was
about to disappear. "And then there will be teeth..." he thought almost
indifferently and leapt forward, never letting go of Raven's limp body on
his shoulder.

   There was no hard impact; in fact, there was nothing -- just stars-filled
silent blackness.

****

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