A/N: Holy God, this took forever to write. (Eight different drafts! Eight!) I hope the wait was worth it for those of you who still read this thing.
Chapter Eight: The Source of Nightmares
When Andrews discovered that the Shaded Glen had been tipped off, the resulting fury was as methodical as it was cold. He ruthlessly interrogated the agents sent in to retrieve Raz and the others, found nothing, and dismissed him from his (Truman's) office in disgust. He then called Murphy into his office and began the whole routine from there. Murphy shrank back against the hard chairs Andrews had placed inside, fidgeting some.
"Do you know," Andrews began, his shrewd eyes focused on the redheaded agent in front of him. "What the punishment is for psychics who obstruct justice? I'm sure you're aware that it is much more severe than it would be for a non-psychic." Murphy did his best to try and restrain his fidgeting. Andrews was the sort to jump at the sight of any discomfort and use it to his advantage. "Someone tipped off the Shaded Glen, Murphy."
Murphy didn't entirely agree on Andrews' definition of 'justice', but he didn't feel obliged to point that out. He was fairly certain Andrews suffered some sort of defect of the heart—or lack thereof, as the case may be. "Larry's a known precognitive, sir. He may have seen this coming…He saw the assassination attempt on Truman clear enough."
Andrews quietly observed him, and then spoke again. "I had not thought of that, Murphy."
Murphy was suddenly very glad that Andrews wasn't nearly as smart as he looked. "That's probably the best explanation for it, sir. After all," And he strained to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "No sane agent would ever think of betraying their own."
Elsewhere, back at Whispering Rock, the campers had long ago gotten up with the morning sun and gone about their business. By the time breakfast had ended the only camper not accounted for was none other than Raz.
The camp gathered in the main lodge every morning after Basic Braining for food and a break before their next training session. It was during this time that most of the campers saw each other—Milla was known to cook in the mornings and the food was considered edible. This was, however, not one of those mornings, as she and Sasha had spent the night trying to wake Truman with little success. The Shaded Glen agents were about to discover why most of the campers opted for cereal instead of cooked food in the morning.
"There's a fly in my oatmeal…" Screak said, poking the oatmeal with his spoon and the subsequently losing it in the substance. The fly sort of twitched before sinking down to the bottom. He thought he heard it cry, "Goodbye cruel world!" as it went down and he had a feeling that this was somewhat of a regular occurrence in Whispering Rock. For some reason that made him utterly depressed.
"There's a hair in my eggs…" Nick muttered to his companions, looking at the offending food. And, indeed, at the top of his egg, there rested a blatantly obvious white hair. He was also fairly certain he had asked for bacon, but it was curiously absent from his dish.
"There's pizza in my cereal!" Sevrin cried, deeply distraught. A few of the campers snickered at him. They had long ago learned to hide and store food when they could. "What the hell, man! Screak could cook better than this! And he burned water!" Sevrin, seemingly caught up in his tangent, turned and glared at Screak. "That was the worst Ramen ever!"
Screak glared back at him and muttered darkly before going back to his tug-of-war with the bowl of oatmeal. The demonic breakfast food had so far absorbed (and possibly eaten) half of his spoon and it was clearly a losing battle for Screak.
Ford chucked his spatula at Sevrin's head, earning himself another round of snickering from the campers and even a small smirk from Oleander. "Quit makin' all that noise! …And bring me back my spatula!"
It was when Sevrin retrieved Ford's spatula that Lili was ushered in by Milla. Sam immediately paled when Milla entered and shrank down over his breakfast, receiving several curious looks from his fellow agents and the campers alike. Lili was frowning and didn't look at all happy with Milla, but she was for the moment humoring her.
"I'm sorry, darling, but we just can't let you see him right now." She said, sounding both apologetic and authoritative. Lili didn't exactly glare at her, but her facial expression made it clear she wasn't happy with the situation. Milla sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're doing the best we can, sweetie. As soon as we..." She searched for the appropriate word. "…bring him back, you can see him, alright? You and Raz can see to your friends until then."
Lili muttered something noncommittal under her breath, looking somewhat dejected. She just couldn't seem to get a break. Once Milla was certain she wouldn't immediately try to sneak back into Sasha's lab to see her father or have, she left the lodge. Lili was content to watch Sevrin get beaten about the head by Ford for a short while before leaving the lodge and wandering about the woods the way she usually did whenever she found her current company lacking. For awhile, she meditated over some flowers growing near the GPC and, when she became bored, took pot shots at the wandering squirrels. When they started to shoot back, she decided to find another way to amuse herself. It then occurred to her that she hadn't seen Raz at all today.
She walked over to the boys' cabin and peered inside. The cabin was empty and dim save for the few shafts of sunlight that He was asleep on the bunk above Dogen's and tossing restlessly. Extremely restlessly. She frowned and levitated up to his sleeping form, watching him for a few moments before poking his head. "Hey, dork. It's one o'clock. Wake up."
When he didn't respond or even move, she poked him even harder. "Raz, c'mon." When that didn't work, she pulled back the covers and leaned over him, peering into his sleeping face.
Except his eyes were open. And he was staring directly into the ceiling above him. There was no sign of life in his eyes; it was if his spirit had left him. He was breathing as though he was asleep, but it was quite clear that he wasn't. Thoroughly creeped out and more than a little worried, Lili shook him lightly. "Raz? Raz! Wake up!"
"Milla, do you remember the Lindley case from a few years ago?" Sasha asked her, searching through one of the many boxes scattered around his lab. Ever since Sheegor came, he hadn't been able to find anything--there was a method to his madness, after all.
Milla quirked a brow at him. That case had been particularly trying for the both of them. Two identical twins had gone into a catatonic state after some particularly traumatizing event. The two were suffering from the same nightmares and, in fact, it had eventually been discovered that the nightmares somehow linked the two minds. The children were both telepathic and, being identical twins, may have had a link between them that caused the nightmares to spread. Sasha had been completely obsessed with the case. "I remember, but what does that--"
"I believe the same thing is occurring here. Between Razputin, Truman, and that child." He said, interrupting her and tossing aside a rather thick folder with the words 'Neural Osteodisassociation' written across it in bold letters. It landed with a solid thump in front of Sevrin, who just looked utterly lost. Sasha finally pulled out the correct file with a triumphant smile and flipped it open on his desk. "Their minds are linked through their nightmares."
Milla leaned over to peer at the file, lightly resting her hand on his shoulder for balance. He shifted the papers slightly so she could see them better. "Nightmare tunnels?" She supplied, looking back over to him after reading a few paragraphs on the report.
He snorted. "That's what Agent Bertillion calls them; I prefer a much more scientific term. But, yes, for the sake of simplicity, that's what they are." He then launched into an explanation for the others' benefit, pulling out various notes from the file before him, both to remind him of important facts and emphasize a few particular points. "Two minds have the same nightmare--perhaps both individuals experienced the same trauma at the same time. A good example of this would be sisters taken hostage in a bank robbery. The two have a nightmare based on the event at roughly the same time and thus a link is created between the two separate minds. Theoretically, a psychic entity could travel to another's mind by using these 'tunnels.' A few of the more reckless junior agents attempted to do so two years ago. They became entangled in each other's nightmares."
"What happened to them?" Larry asked when Sasha handed him the report. Screak peered over his superior's shoulder to read some of the excerpts.
"They never woke up. To this day, they lie asleep in the basement of Psychonauts HQ." Sasha said tiredly, massaging his forehead. They were having enough trouble trying to wake Truman and now it seemed Razputin was suffering from the same thing. He hadn't slept in three days and it was beginning to show.
As Sasha would soon discover, Raz was having one of the longest recorded nightmares in Psychonauts history. He stirred in his bunk every now and then, alone in the boys' cabin, muttering in restless sleep. The rest of the campers had gotten up hours ago and simply left him alone--it wasn't uncommon for psychics to have poor sleeping habits, and a few of those with rather strong abilities (notably telepathists and a few clairvoyants) never slept at all, fearing to dream dreams not their own.
His dreams would later prove to be of such great interest that future generations of psychics would study them for years to come. For now, all he knew that he was dreaming, and possibly having a nightmare. It started innocently enough, as most nightmares do. He was in the woods surrounding the camp, near Sasha's lab--or a twisted, surrealistic version of them, where the trees swayed against the wind and the ever present squirrels were nowhere to be found. Most of his fellow campers were there, standing in the middle of a clearing, some (notably Bobby and Benny) were brainless and shambled around in circles, while others ignored them and spoke amongst themselves. Elka was speaking the loudest (as per usual), to an uninterested JT and one very annoyed Chops. Strangely enough, there was also a young boy that Raz didn't recognize, watching them all carefully from the shadow of a twisted tree. None of the others seemed to notice him.
"I'm telling you, Agent Nein is a vampire! He's pale, lives underground..." At this point, there was a pause and she seemed to be thinking very hard on what else she should could say to prove her case. A brief moment after her pause, her face lit up and she spoke again, using a tone twice as loud as was necessary. "And he's got an accent!"
"No way! He's a robot! That's why he's always messing with all of those electronics and stuff. Besides, vampires can't go out into the sunlight, Elka, and he's been outside plenty of times." Chops said, inwardly hoping to beat stupid at its own game.
He was sorely disappointed when Elka eagerly latched onto the idea. She jumped up and down, clapping her hands in excitement before grabbing JT's arm, looking as though she had just made a world shattering discovery. "Oh my God, he's a robot vampire! He sucks out blood AND oil!"
Raz simply stared at them while Chops walked over to the nearest tree and smacked his head against it repeatedly. He continued to do so until Elka, apparently growing tired of creating rumors about the camp counselors, declared (obnoxiously, in Chops' opinion) that they should all "go out and DO something!"
"Like what?" JT asked, trying to pry his arm out of her death grip and failing miserably. Raz saw Chops idly consider a rock near his feet and then look at Elka's head. The young Psychonaut wondered if the boy would actually throw it.
"Like...um," She could tell she was losing them fast, and so glanced around for some sort of inspiration. When she saw Raz, a grin formed. "Like a game!" Raz didn't like the look she was giving him. Chops looked mildly interested, but seemed to be trying to hide it.
JT scratched up beneath the giant cowboy hat he always wore. "What kinda game are ya talkin' about?"
"Like...uh...Hide and Seek!" She declared triumphantly. JT and Chops both looked interested, more than likely hoping to lose Elka in the chase. She mistook their hope for enthusiasm and continued. "And Raz is It!" She pointed a finger at him.
Raz blinked, wondering when Elka decided to take notice of him. Usually he didn't mind when people noticed him, but with Elka, he made an exception. "What?"
"Count to ten!" Elka shouted at him before turning invisible and running off. JT and Chops did the same. Raz stared for a few moments, and then called out to the empty air around him.
"What's the point of counting if you're turning invisible? That is so cheap!" When no response came, he sullenly began to count to ten. The woods became darker as he counted, the trees still swaying to an unfelt wind, though they made no noise. The only sound in the entire clearing was Raz's voice, counting. The young boy Raz had noticed before still stood on the outskirts of the clearing, still stood there, watching quietly. When Raz finished counting, he was the first person he saw and, grinning, ran over to the boy. "Hey! Are you playing?"
The boy silently shook his head in response, his wide eyes watching him innocently. Raz's shoulders sank. "Oh. Well, did you see where they went?"
He grinned and nodded excitedly. Raz grinned back. "Great! Can you show me where?" The boy nodded one more and ran off into the woods. Raz was quick to follow him, though he lost his guide in the caves that, had he actually been in the Whispering Rock camp and not a dream world version of it, would lead to Lake Oblongata. He slowed to a stop and glanced around curiously. Where'd that little kid run off to?
"Hey! Kid!" He cried out into the thick darkness, moving inside the tunnel. His voice echoed in the dank cavern and repeated parodies of his call back to him. "Where'd you go—"
It was when Raz entered the tunnel that things began to get weird. The tunnel wasn't the one he knew from Whispering Rock; it was too dark. There were too many shadows and, what's more, the shadows moved, even though there was no light strong enough to create them. They slithered along the ground, circling him, and then, all at once, shot towards the young Psychonaut and encircled his body.
He felt a strange tug somewhere inside him. Not a physical force, but something else, as if some part of him was being forcibly dragged out. If he was conscious, he'd have realized that his astral self was being pulled away from his body and into another's mind, much in the same way Coach Oleander did back when he first reported for Basic Braining. The effect wasn't noticed at all in the physical world; no one was looking for it. It was, however, extremely noticeable in the mental world Raz had unknowingly been dragged into. Everything suddenly lost its dreamlike quality--it was all stark and fully formed, startlingly real, as if a fog had been swept aside.
He was still in the tunnel, but the air around him seemed denser than before, tighter. He still couldn't see anything except for that flickering light at the end of the tunnel, but it suddenly seemed a lot farther away than before. To make matters worse, his movements became sluggish, as though he were wading through a deep pool. When he realized that he had actually stumbled into an underwater pool in the tunnel, he began to panic, and frantically clawed his way through water--it was definitely water, couldn't be anything else--trying to out swim the dark shadowed hand he knew was behind him, only inches away, brushing against his legs, trying to pull him under into the cold, dark--
He came to a stop at the end of the cave, staggering into the light, chest heaving, grasping the rock around him and staring at the landscape that had quite suddenly changed on him. He found himself perfectly dry and, save for a trembling hand, was completely unharmed. The tunnel opened up to a dreary playground that Raz didn't recognize. It seemed vaguely similar to the one he found in Boyd's twisted mind, and yet, it wasn't the same. The playground in Boyd's mind had been pristine, almost too normal. Here the exact opposite held sway. The grass here was yellow and lifeless, and the sky was filled with swirling storm clouds. The only light in the entire area was provided by the frequent lightning flashes that ripped across the sky, briefly casting stark light across the wholly pathetic looking land. The slides were steep, almost vertical drops, and their surfaces were rusted and uneven. A swing hung by a single chain, the other having rusted and broken free of it's fastening, twirled slowly in the wind, dragging the other chain through the grey dirt beneath it. The rest of the equipment didn't seem to be in much better shape. Most of it was ruined, and the rest looked downright unsafe. Strange figments flitted across the ruined landscape; crows that watched him too closely, squirrels that were starved down to skin and bone, their fur hanging off of their thin forms.
The boy was nowhere to be found. Raz was alone.