The Lord of Dreams

"Of all the realms where roam old gods, demons, monsters and spirits, let it be known that the minds of men are the most terrifying of all, because there within lies the single greatest horror that can ever be wrought upon the world...Imagination. For as you perceive the unknown, the unseen, the unheard, and the unspeakable in your mind, so shall they be on Earth."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              -- Abdul Alhazared

                                                             The Lord of Dreams

The sign on the door read "Theodore R. Sigman: Professor of Psychology" in beautiful, polished brass lettering. Dr. Theodore Roosevelt Sigman (named after president Roosevelt by his father, a most conservative and staunch traditionalist) had become the newest faculty member of Miskatonik University, taking over as head of the psychology department after the previous head professor Dr. Edward Borden had taken ill and soon announced his retirement after nearly 40 years of service. Theodore was relatively young for a professor, only 32, but his independent graduate studies had earned him quite a reputation through his groundbreaking work in interpreting the human subconscious through carefully designed methods of hypnosis and psychological probing during REM sleep cycles; essentially developing what he called: unconscious psychology. The psychology world had dubbed him a modern day Joseph because of his skills in interpreting dreams and subconscious. When his doctoral thesis in unconscious psychology had been published, laying the groundwork for further academic study. Miskatonik University had offered him substantial incentives to come work as a professor of psychology: lucrative pay, full access to the universities facilities, and funding for his continued research and experiments. He accepted without reservation and made the move to the town of Arkham, where he began his work as the new head of psychology.
       
     To say that his new colleagues were resentful of his sudden success was as to say that night follows day. Theodore paid no mind to their snide resentment and subtle showings of disrespect toward him. Baser minds were always prone to such childish jealousy when simple things like pride was struck down; they couldn't help it, they were only normals after all. Theodore fancied himself an intellectual being beyond the sway of ridiculous human emotions and ideals that normals, (as that was what Theodore called other people in his mind), were subject to being controlled by. Normals never saw the beauty of the human brain, the secrets it held, the endless potential for improvement, the power that it possessed. Normals always let their minds fester in the rank obscurity and dull complacency of pure mediocrity. Why it took so long for someone to figure out what Theodore now did was a testament to how pathetic normals were, by comparison to him.  The mind was not a playground for the enjoyment of inferior thoughts and feelings. Theodore saw the mind more like a factory, a vision of cold, hard, efficiency and productivity where superior ideas were forged and polished with careful detail. Even when he was conducting his dream interpretation experiments, he never expressed his findings in any form of imaginative or creative interpretation. They were always quantified detailing that forsook the poetry of colorful imagery in favor of the black and white scientific interpretation. Normals had no right to the potential gifts they were bestowed. Their minds were wasted, and he knew it, that was why he worked so hard to achieve mental superiority over the normals that plagued his life; to escape the fate of mental mediocrity. Since he was a child, he was always smarter, always more in control than the other children, quite possibly more in control than many of the adults around him as well. They called him a prodigy, which was a quaint and, frankly, amusing little title. Theodore supposed it made them feel better about themselves to label him as such. They wouldn't have to admit to their own failings and inferiority if they gave in to the idea that he was just "born that way". His success would be the success of those who associated with him, but not truly. Theodore was simply a proxy for the normals to leech off of in order to feel as though they weren't completely inferior, but Theodore knew they were. As such things go, his "understanding" of normals led him to be fascinated by their completely idiocy. He sympathized with them on a certain primal level in his mind, and his thoughts were drawn toward a world where normals didn't exist. Theodore knew in his mind, (because one can't know anything in the heart afterall, the heart doesn't process ideas or thoughts, it's just a necessary biological tool within the body), that he could save the normals from themselves and their inferiority. At the very least he could lay down the foundation for future generations to purge the mediocrity from their minds and abandon the world of the normals to join the glorious world of the superiors. 
     
     Theodore was, as a result of his ways of thinking, very alone in the world, but Theodore wasn't, however, unhappy; on the contrary, he was quite pleased with himself and his work. He knew that his findings would be a great benefit to the future of unlocking the secrets of the human mind. Contradictory to his generally bland and emotionless outlook on humanity, Theodore was a staunch believer in the theory of psychic abilities. The one part of his "efficient" mind that still thrummed with the childlike glee of embracing the fantastical. It was quite possibly the last connection he had to his fellow human beings on a purely emotional level. Unlocking the part of the mind that controlled those latent psychic abilities was the heart of all his studies, his experiments, and his desires. He didn't think of those latent abilities as some kind of mental sorcery, but real science. He had to believe that, lest he be reduced to the levels of normals who saw such things as witchcraft or a sign of the devil. Religion was the one thing that infuriated Theodore beyond possibly even the mediocrity of the minds of normals. The very idea of a god or gods was so absurd and mentally exhausting, that he had even openly banned any and all signs of faith and religion within his classes to the extent that violators would be immediately failed and removed from the psychology department. No being could possibly exist outside the strict parameters of sensory perception. Normals who didn't have the capacity to see the world for what it was and had to fall back on the safety net of ignorance that religion was were held in particular disdain by Theodore, which was, essentially, and most unfortunate for Theodore, almost everyone he met in the town of Arkham. 
      
     "The world is already full of enough mysteries and enigmas worthy of being studied and explained without having to add the mystery of quantifying the existence of some sort of invisible, formless, omnipotent being that no "official" historical or scientific records have ever sited. I won't be swayed by anything that I can not subjectively analyze and explain," he was apt to say when contested about the existence of god. 
   
       If such a being or beings were truly present in the universe, then surely he, she, or it was a truly uninspired and cruel creator to have birthed so many mediocre existences, doomed to an abundant variety of unfortunate fates and demises. War, pestilence, famine, disease, poverty, and physical and mental infirmaties. Humans were subjected to so much filth and danger that Theodore could scarcely imagine how the first primitive Neanderthals ever survived long enough as a species to further evolve. Even more confusing was how those that survived gave "thanks" to a being that either intentionally put them through, or simply allowed them to go through all that misery in the first place. Assuming the former was true, then god was a truly malevolent creature with no designs except for his own personal, sadistic amusement, assuming the later, god was a completely incompetent and/or apathetic imbecile who set a random series of events into motion and walked away. There were so many flaws within the so called grand design that Theodore wondered sometimes how the world didn't just unravel at the seams centuries ago. To have even progressed to the point that human kind was at now was astounding to him, and further solidified his obsession with unlocking the secrets of the mind. If normals were capable of achieving this much in a few centuries, just imagine what mankind could achieve when their mental output was at 100%. In regards to that, Theodore couldn't help but entertain a third possibility about god: perhaps he was a superior genius who purposefully enacted billions of simultaneous experiments in order to perfect the human race over time. Pavlov had, of course, discovered the process of operant conditioning and could, if given adequate time and resources, train any creature to achieve a desired behavioral result through negative and positive reinforcement, and punishment. God could very well be the greatest scientist to never exist. Yes, thought Theodore, "God" was simply the natural conditioning of the world that shaped the behaviors, attitudes, and evolutionary process of all creatures on the planet. Normals simply needed a name to give to this invisible, but very real, force of influence on our lives, so they erected a mythos around this force and labeled it as "god"; and indeed, it was an omnipotent, and omnipresent force in the lives of all human beings. So if normals simply wanted to misplace all their misbegotten woes and duly deserved successes on the invisible shoulders of a label, then let them fool themselves until death. Theodore was cognizant of the truth now, and felt an enormous weight lifted from his own shoulders. The burden of knowledge and truth was surprisingly light on Theodore's shoulders. His father would tell him,  "great men are always burdened by their own responsibilities and the shadows of their impending legends, it's what prompts them to wake up every morning and achieve the previously un-achievable." That was the one bit of wisdom that his normal father ever really had to offer to Theodore, when he wasn't half-drunk off his scotch and buried in the financial section of the weekly newspaper. That was all during a time when Theodore was still young,  impressionable, and capable of being swayed by the fantastical and illogical. Those were darker, ignorant days, when his life hadn't been illuminated by the light of intelligence, logic, and reason. 
      
     His father had passed when Theodore was still a psychology undergraduate at the Boston University. "Science is the field of men who can only think, but never do, they always focus on explaining how the world works, but rarely act to change it", his father told him when Theodore enrolled in college. "Acting on one's own ideas is the providence of true men with vision beyond the "how" of the world. If you don't have the force of will to enact change, then you don't have the moral right to bear the weight of all that knowledge." Theodore's father was a shrewd businessman, like his father before him, who was all about "getting the job done right the first time." He took several risks and most payed off, more than likely due to the extreme level of charisma that his father exuded when making business deals and arrangements. He was a psychologist in his own right, Theodore supposed, albeit through a boisterous form of emotional manipulation, but it was effective nonetheless. Experimenting was something that "only the fearful hearts of cowards without the conviction to see things through the first time", ever did according to his father. "You either do something right the first time, or you don't and you get it right the next time around without excuse. Men don't have the time for precise calculations and time consuming manipulations of one too many variables and controls; it just isn't cost efficient to waste that much time." That was another rambling that Theodore had to endure when they were locked in a heated argument over Theodore's future. Theodore was forced to struggle at several odd jobs to pay for his tuition after his father pulled his financial funding away from him. Theodore suspected that his father resented him for not taking up the family tradition of learning good business skills and acumen. His father's desire for a blood-successor to his business, an heir to the throne apparent so to speak, was such an old-fashioned and, frankly, ignorant and machismo-laden tradition that had no place in the modern world of intellectuals. An intellectual man like Theodore would never accept being molded and manipulated by a normal in order to achieve normal goals, and normal ends. Everyone was free to choose their own path in life, even if that path eventually ended in failure, as most normals were apt to end up in life. 
      
     Theodore was one of the only actual family members to attend his father's funeral; the "mourners" in attendance were mostly his father's business associates who were primarily interested in how the old man's business was going to be "divied up" among the lot of them. It sickened Theodore to know that his family's legacy was being butchered and sold like some side of beef, and just as sickened at the fact that he even cared at all. Theodore had a recurring nightmare after his father died, in his dream, he was at his father's grave, the grave had been dug up and there, gathered around the open grave, were all his father's fellow business associates. To Theodore, they all looked like three-piece-suit-clad dogs, each of them gnawing away at his father's bloated carcass. The blood from his gaping wounds was an inky dark green and coins would fall free as the corpse bled out and was ripped to shreds by the gnashing jaws of the dog-men. Their canine mouths were filled not with flesh, but blood and scotch soaked dollar bills and half-smoked cigars. When the dog-men had finished ravaging Theodore's father's corpse and turned on Theodore with blood soaked maws that curled into wicked hyena-like grins. All at once, the dog-men rushed at Theodore with greedy mouths opened and poised for a second slaughter and Theodore screamed as they closed in. The first of the dog-men clamped a jaw around his tender neck and the blood spurted out like a geyser. Another tore into his leg, another into his arm, and then the last would come up from behind and clamp his filthy jaws firmly into his crotch, all of them ripping and pulling and bleeding him out. The breath of the beasts smelled like rusted coins, rotten flesh, scotch, and stale cigar smoke all at once and it was the last thing he could remember as he bolted upright in bed, lathered in sweat, breathing heavily, his lips quivering, and his underwear soaked and stinking of piss or shit or sometimes both; if he was deep enough into his dream.  That same horrifying dream happened at least two or three times a year and Theodore had devoted quite a lot of time to not only interpreting and understanding the subconscious and the nature of dreams, but also ways to suppress them as well.  The former of his studies had gone swimmingly over the years of research, but the later had eluded him to the point that he had grown physically exhausted by the stress, leaving him rather haggard and emaciated.
      
     Physically, Theodore was a lean and lanky man, (some might say skeletons looked fat by comparison.) His black hair was thinning and he combed over what oily bit he had left to futiley cover the baldness. His face was sunken in, particularly around his eyes, which were often bloodshot and always dark and baggy. He sported a pencil thin mustache and goatee on his, not altogether unhandsome face. Had he been only a bit less thinner than he was, one might think him a rather dapper looking man, like an amalgam of Vincent Price and Cary Grant; handsome, but with a sort of morbid veil over that handsomeness. He was altogether mysterious, fascinating, and slightly sinister in his appearance. All of this was merely pointless vanity to Theodore though, he wasn't concerned in how he appeared, it only mattered that he remain healthy enough to continue his work in peace and privacy. He never had any attendants, apprentices, or students helping him work on his most serious experiments and research. He entertained young minds with frivolous basics that, as he anticipated they would, (since they were normals after all,) fascinated and amazed them. He had at least inherited his father's gift of charisma, but for the field of science. It was a simple matter to manipulate the weak minded with some flashy words, complex formulae, and balderdash hypotheses that would get them off his back to contemplate their recently learned discoveries on their own time. His research was all that mattered, and he would not be distracted by any normal who would only confound his good senses with the muddling bog of ignorance that they exuded on a daily basis.
      
     As Theodore got settled into his life as a teacher at Miskatonik, he kept experiencing an illogical feeling that he had never felt before. It was a feeling of sheer wrongness about the place, an unexplainable sense of dread that gripped him and filled his first year with one-too-many sleepless nights. His recurring dream about his dead father and the dog-men began to intensify and occur more often than in the past. What was a bi or tri-annual occurrence had evolved into a bi or tri-monthly occurrence. Theodore was spending a fortune on underwear and mattresses alone, usually buying a new mattress every other month to replace the overly soiled ones. Theodore kept a log of his dreams and noted any small changes within them, details that were different than before. He also kept a strict log of his heart rate after waking from the nightmare and attempted to monitor any other physical changes that were apparent from his sleeplessness, which had now evolved into full on insomnia for which he sought treatment. The dream had been changing, and his log was as detailed as possible. Theodore had always been exceptional in the fact that he had a photographic memory for dreams. In one version of his dream he noted that, while before, he had always wore a dark blue suit to his father's grave, this time it was a dark, blood red suit.  In another variation, the dog-men were now shadowy boar-men with elongated, razor sharp tusks dripping with the mixture of scotch and blood that oozed out of his father's corpse. Another dream, the most disturbing one yet, many of the dog-men now looked exactly like his father, but demonic looking with dark, inky skin, wide, fang filled mouths and reptilian eyes that glowed and smoked as if they were made from the fires of hell itself. What once was his father, lying dead on the ground and being ravaged, was now his mother. What disturbed him the most was that she was smiling, and her form was flawless, save for the gaping wound in her abdomen that the shadowy, demonic Doppelganger of his father took turns dipping their clawed hands into to pull out guts and dollar bills. Upon closer inspection however, he found that they weren't dollar bills at all, but blood stained pages, pages of a book with text he had never seen before. The letters looked Arabic in appearance and for some reason, which he couldn't explain, he knew what they said. 
      
     "Of all the realms where roam old gods, demons, monsters and spirits, let it be known that the minds of men are the most terrifying of all. For there within lies the single greatest horror that can ever be wrought upon the world...Imagination. For as you perceive the unknown, the unseen, the unheard, and the unspeakable in your mind, so shall they be on Earth."
      
     He spoke the words aloud as he saw them and a sudden silence fell over everything. One of the shadowy figures whose back was turned to Theodore, stood upright, his hand dripping blood and clutching his mother's heart, which was still beating furiously. Theodore swallowed hard and stared in unrelenting horror as the creature turned to look at him. The thing was enormous, at least 10 feet tall, and ripped from head to toe with muscles that convulsed and quivered. The horror Theodore felt was not at the size of the creature, but it's face. It looked exactly. Like. Him. Unlike the demonic figures that resembled his father, this one was a perfect resemblance of Theodore, save for the blood smeared all over it's face. It was as if Theodore had splashed blood on a mirror and was looking at a dark reflection of himself. Then, to Theodore's surprise, the creature spoke, but it spoke in a horrid, grating, dual-toned voice, half Theodore, and half...Something else entirely.
      
     "Soon..." 
      
     Theodore gritted his teeth, "Soon? What is soon? What will be soon? I don't understand what you mean!"
     
      The Doppelganger smiled and nodded at Theodore. "Soon...You will have all that you have ever desired, mortal worm. You desire knowledge do you not?"
      
     Theodore tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry, his lips were cracking and chapping. He was so thirsty, but he licked his lips and spoke with a hoarse voice. "Yes, that is what I desire, the key to unlock the secrets of the mind, to prove that the human mind is capable of things previously unimagined!"
      
     The Doppelganger pressed a finger to Theodore's forehead and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head as the creature's finger slowly bore into his brain. Theodore could feel a jolt in his mind and fell to his knees screaming at the darkening sky. Clouds were turning black and coalescing into a funnel that descended down on both Theodore and his twisted clone. The voice of the creature now echoed in his mind, though it's lips didn't move, or even so much as quiver.
      
     "Soon...Theodore Roosevelt Sigman...Soon you will know the true power of the mind and all within it's domain. Within MY domain. Awake now and know knowledge beyond your limited mortal scope. Become my herald on this wretched, primitive plane of existence, and you shall become more than your flesh allows you to be, more than your mind can contain. You shall become a living repository of knowledge; knowledge of all truths, knowledge of all time, knowledge of all minds. You shall touch them all and, in time, become one with all minds in all existences, in all times...Soon...Soon..."
      
     Theodore woke in a daze, his throat was dry and he didn't have the energy in him to even scream in reaction to the horrifying nightmare he had just had. He looked around and saw that he was in his bed, it was still the middle of the night and there was a storm going on outside. Every rain drop seemed to pound like hammers on anvils in his ears as they struck the roof, the howl of the wind was like listening to the cry of some wailing spirit. He felt so much more sensitive and aware of everything around him now. Fear, Theodore supposed, had a way of heightening one's senses into a sort of primal survival mode, and he WAS very afraid at that moment. Sweat poured off of him and he climbed out of bed and staggered to the kitchen and bolted directly to the icebox. He took out two ice cubes and put them into a small glass and then went straight to his liquor cabinet and grabbed the first bottle he could see. It was scotch. Of course it was scotch. What else did he expect to find? He poured himself a drink and guzzled it down in a huff. The slow burn in his mouth and throat as the alcohol went down was half ecstasy, half agony. He poured a second glass, and then a third, until he began to calm down. After a few deep breathes, he set the scotch back into the cabinet and poured a glass of water to chase down the alcohol that still lingered in his mouth. The cold water against his throat was blissful and he felt his thoughts unscramble and collect themselves up again. He went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror, everything looked normal, no demonic features or shadowy aura. He breathed a sigh of relief and splashed some water on his face. He was starting to look more haggard than normal, his face was scraggly with beard now and his skin looked almost grey, as if it would start falling off of his skull. 
      
     "You're letting irrational fears get the better of you Teddy," he said to himself as he looked into the mirror. "That was only another variation of the same old dream, nothing to get overexcited about. You'll log it, compare it with past variations and start making sense of it...oww..." He felt a twinge of pain in his forehead and he pushed aside his thinning comb-over and he nearly gasped out loud when he saw the mark there. It was a reddened mark in the shape of a closed eye, right in the very spot where Theodore's dark clone had touched him, had bore it's grubby finger into his brain and jolted him. Theodore was breathing heavy again until he gave himself a quick slap to the face.
      
     "Stop this Theodore! It's merely a coincidence, some external force applied some pressure there while you were asleep and directly influenced your dream. You probably just slept with your hands too close to your face and that physical stimulus translated in your dream as that...thing, pressing it's finger into your head. By the morning, it'll be cleared up and you can go on with the day."
      
     Theodore went to his bed and sat down, the small clock next to his bed read 2:30. He'd only been asleep for a few hours and there was still quite a bit of night left. He was incapable of sleeping now, despite his personal reassurances to himself. He couldn't gather the will to close his eyes and so he lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling for the rest of the night. All the while, the storm continued to rage on, and he could clearly make out every single drop of rain that struck the roof. 
      
     The next morning Theodore showered, dressed, and walked off to work. His home was just on the outskirts of the campus, so he never felt the need to drive. As he walked along through the halls of the psychology department building, he barely registered any of the greetings from teachers and students. He would simply smile and nod to everyone as he slowly made his way to his office. Theodore's thoughts were focused almost entirely on the dream of the previous night. There had been several variations over the past few months, some subtle, some not, but last night was something different entirely. Never before had he interacted with his dream so vividly nor had the dream ever spoken to him before. The Doppelganger in his dream terrified him beyond all rational thought, and he shuddered as he wrote the description of it in his log book. The pain in his forehead hadn't subsided yet and he was disturbed to find that the mark was not only there, but it looked different now. What once was a closed eye, now looked like an eye that was beginning to open. He could clearly see it "peeking" out at him, and he resolved to go to the pharmacy later for some topographical cream of some kind to clear it up. The day was just getting started, and he felt a nervous anticipation rise up in his gut, worried about what may be waiting for him outside the confines of his office. 
      
     His first class of the day was brain anatomy and functions. As he began his lecture he heard whispers coming from every direction. "If you could all please hold your questions and comments until after the lecture," he said with a slightly irritated tone. The students looked at each other puzzled and listened on. The whispers wouldn't subside though, and Theodore could begin to make out individual whispers now. 
      
     "Holy shit, would you look at him. He looks like someone put a lab coat on a hobo." 
      
     Theodore stopped writing on the chalkboard abruptly and turned to the class with a severe look on his face. "Who...Said that?" He almost whispered through gritted teeth. The class looked at each other with confusion, but said nothing. "Who said that!?" He screamed out, startling many of the students. The chalk in Theodore's hand snapped and fell to the floor as he began to pace back and forth at the front of the classroom. "Apparently someone takes offense to my appearance. In defense, I say this. Unlike all of you, as a REAL scientist , I take pride more in my work than in shallow vanity. Do you even realize how important my work is? Do you not understand the sacrifices of time and effort I make to teach you the simplest of concepts? Yet here I stand being mocked for something as meaningless as my appearance." Theodore scanned the room with rage in his eyes, the students were clearly nervous and a bit scared of him. He was about to speak again when he heard the whispers once more.
      
     "Jesus Christ, this freak has lost his mind, he's going to murder every one of us." Theodore's eyes locked onto one of the students in the back, his name was Will Fredericks. Fredericks was a star rugby player attending Miskatonik on a full sports scholarship. Will was currently undecided as far as his major went, and it was rumored that his only motivation for taking psychology courses was to impress a young lady he was pining over. Fredericks went still when Theodore's eyes caught his. 
      
     "Class is dismissed, I have some urgent matters to attend to now," Theodore said rather calmly, as if his little outburst had never occurred. As the class gathered their books, Theodore began to erase the blackboard, but spoke again in a rather ominous voice, "Mr. Fredericks if you wouldn't mind, I would like to speak to you in private. My office. Five minutes." Will Fredericks looked pale, he knew there was no way that creepy teacher heard him say any of those things, he had only thought those things to himself. Will figured it had something to do with his grades, which were poor to say the least. Either way, Will was bound and determined to get out of that course and away from the creepy Dr. Sigman. 
      
     Five minutes later, Will knocked on Theodore's office door. "Please come in," came the reply from inside. Theodore's office was a ramshackle of books, papers, and dioramas; some strewn about, others stuffed into and on top of shelves. The place looked as if a tornado had hit it, thought Will.
      
     "Oh do excuse the mess Mr. Fredericks, I understand if it looks like a natural disaster. My work keeps me from attending to things like organizing. If you would, please close the door behind you so that we might talk in private."
      
     "Umm, yes sir," Will said timidly as he closed the door behind him. Will was getting nervous and he could feel his heart beating faster and the sweat forming into droplets on his face. "Can I ask you what this is all about Professor Sigman?" Will managed to get past his parched lips. Theodore gazed out the small window on the north side of his office and clasped his hands together. 
      
     "I think we can throw formalities out and get down to business as it were. I know you were the one whispering all those insulting comments in my class today and I want to know why?" 
      
     Will threw his hands up in defense, waving them in front of his face, "Sir, you've got it all wrong, I never said anything in class today, you're making a mistake." Theodore's hands clenched and his eye twitched, "there's no mistake about it Mr. Fredericks, you had the gall to insult me in my own classroom, my domain! I believe your exact words were "he looks like someone put a lab coat on a hobo", and "that FREAK is going to murder us all!" Does that sound accurate to you Mr. Fredericks!"
      
     Will felt a sharp twinge of pain in his head at those last words and he felt an uncontrollable fear build up in him. Why did he feel so afraid of this little stick of a man? His family was rich, it would be of no consequence to transfer to a new school, he could attend any school he wanted. He was also one of Miskatonik's most valued athletes, if the little worm had the stones to get physical, Will knew he could crush him like a bug. So why did he fear this man so much? There was no possible way that the professor could have heard him say something that he had only thought, yet he was right; word for word, he recited what Will had thought to himself in class, and that was spooky beyond all reckoning.
      
     "What the hell are you, you mind reading freak!?" Will screamed out in alarm. "You stay the hell away from me, you hear me!? Just keep back and stay out of my head!" Theodore watched the hysterical young man, studying him, and then a sudden realization hit him. "Mind...Reading...Oh my god. It wasn't just a dream...I didn't hear your words, I heard your thoughts! Think something else boy, now!" The look in Theodore's eyes was as hysterical as the fear was palpable in Will's eyes. Will reached out and grabbed a nearby letter opener, brandishing it threateningly. The pain in his head was getting worse, he could feel a throbbing that nearly matched the speed of his racing heart, like his brain wanted to just explode. 
      
     "I swear to almighty Christ that I'll stick you like a pig if you come anywhere near me," were the words coming out of Will's mouth, but in his mind, Theodore could hear something completely different: "Oh god, oh god, somebody help me, this maniac has lost his mind! He's going to kill me! Oh god, oh god, oh god!" 
      
     "No Mr. Fredericks, I haven't lost my mind. On the contrary, I've never been more at one with my mind than I am now. I can see it now, your inner most thoughts and desires, your hopes, your dreams, and your fears. I hear them, I see them, I feel them! Your mind has become like an open book to me." Theodore began to probe Will's thoughts, and the "eye" on Theodore's forehead began to open more. Theodore could see flashes of images inside his own thoughts and he closed his eyes to concentrate on them. When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in his office, but outside a large, luxurious house. The sign on the mailbox outside read "Fredericks" on it. 
      
     "Curiouser and curiouser," he mused as he walked up to the front door and opened it. Inside the house, there were cases full of trophys and awards all reading the name of "William H. Fredericks." Theodore strolled through the empty house until he heard a peculiar noise coming from upstairs. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and honed in on the sound, it was the sounds of heavy breathing, gasping, moaning, and the occasional squeal. The hallway was dark, save for a crack of soft, orange light coming from a partially closed door at the end of the hallway. Theodore peeked inside the room, it was covered with burning candles that smelled strongly of lavender. The floor was littered with money as well, stacks of hundred dollar bills were strewn about among the candles that lined the floor. Theodore thought that it reminded him of his father, obsessed by greed and avarice. In the center of the room on a large bed, he saw two figures entwined. It was, as Theodore assumed, Will Fredericks, naked and glistening with sweat; he was far more muscular than he had been in Theodore's office. The man was thrusting hard into another figure beneath him, Theodore quickly recognized the face of a blonde haired young lady named Elizabeth Carter. Elizabeth was an intelligent and talented young psychology major who Theodore often worked with on various projects. Theodore swallowed hard as he watched the woman writhing in pleasure under the muscular form of the dull witted young Will Frederickson. She was perfect, and her form was flawless, with white, glistening skin, perky breasts that were neither too big nor too small, and well toned thighs attached to long, equally well toned legs. Her moans were like the sound of an angel in ecstasy and he could feel himself growing hard just watching and listening to her; it was then that he understood where he was. This was the center of Fredericks' inner most thoughts, where the things he desired most were gathered. Wealth, prestige and fame, and someone beautiful and perfect enough to sate his ravenous lust, they were all there at once, the embodiment of his id. Suddenly, a flood of images passed through Theodore's mind: information about Will Frederickson, his memories, his likes, dislikes, desires, fears, ambitions, dreams, and his every secret. He was absorbing not only Will's memories, but his intellect, his skills, and his very identity. As the rush subsided, Theodore backed away from the door and suddenly saw the face of Elizabeth looking at him and he froze. He wasn't sure how the dreamworld worked yet, it was possible that if he suffered any harm while within another mind, a psychic backlash could occur and damage his own mind or body. Yet in the throes of passion, she never said a word, she only stared at him with blank, teary, eyes and a smile consumed by lust and pain. She was still moaning and writhing under Will as she licked her lips and focused on him again, as if Theodore never even existed. Theodore stroked his chin, entertaining a thought, and then backed away from the door, and exited the house. 
      
     "Ahh, and now we have ascertained better understanding. I'll need to learn the extent of these new abilities and how they can aid my work. First thing's first though...I have unfinished business to attend to."
      
     Theodore put all his concentration into breaking the psychic link between himself and Will Frederickson. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his office, and feeling somewhat disoriented, as if he had been spun around repeatedly. In front of him, Will was down on his knees, heaving until he vomited all over the floor. Theodore made a mental note that when psychic links are broken, the subject experiences disorientation, nausea, and from the smell of it, loss of bowel control, among any other, as yet undetermined, side effects. Theodore was completely elated in the discovery of this newfound power he possessed. He had completely copied and absorbed this young man's mind into his own, and now he was more than just Theodore Roosevelt Sigman, he was also William Henry Frederickson. In a sudden thought, Theodore went to a mirror and looked at his forehead, the "eye" had indeed opened more. He wondered what it's full opening would portend, what unspeakable horror might follow in it's awakening. A pained moan came from behind and he turned to see Will standing to his feet, the boy could barely hold himself up and he seemed so distant. Theodore wondered if he even knew where he was and what had just transpired. So many questions about this new power and he could scarcely think of where to begin. The creature, it had given clues, the papers with the Arabic letters, he still remembered what it said. ""...For as you perceive the unknown, the unseen, the unheard, and the unspeakable in your mind, so shall they be on Earth." An intriguing little poem, but hardly an explanation. I have to find this book, I need to know more about where this power comes from. That creature who looked like me, it must have a name, an origin, anything. If I can only find that book, it might lead me to more clues about my power and it's source. Nothing matters now except that, no more classes, no more staff meetings, no more frivolous distractions like food or sleep. I must know the secrets of the mind, NOW!" 
      
     Will spoke then and Theodore's attention returned to the young man. "Wha...What did you do to me? My head hurts so bad...I can't think. What the hell have you done?" Theodore smirked and placed a hand on Will's shoulder, who was too weak to resist. "Mr. Frederickson...William...I'm going to give you what you desire most, your deepest wishes come to life. Won't you come in Ms. Carter?" 
      
     The door opened up then and Will saw Elizabeth Carter standing before him, she was practically naked save for a few scant, lacy, black, pieces of lingerie. Will looked confused as she stood in the doorway, smiling at him, she licked her lips and winked. 
     
     "Liz...What are you...Why are you here? Why are you dressed like that, someone will see you! You've got to..." She placed a finger to his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. Will could no longer resist her, she had been all he had ever wanted, she was the reason he ever even got involved in Theodore's classes. It was all for her, this beautiful girl who filled ever corner of his fantasies. As she pressed her lips against his, the pounding in Will's head started up again and he tried to pull away, but Elizabeth's grip was stronger than he could have ever imagined. She pressed into him harder and the pain in Will's head grew even more intense. When Elizabeth finally pulled away, Will screamed in horror and pain. The woman he had just kissed wasn't Elizabeth any longer, but a grotesque, inky, black, demonic version of her. The creature's mouth opened up wider than should have been possible, revealing rows upon rows of slathering, ink covered, fangs that clamped down onto Will's face. He struggled with all the strength he had left in him, but the creature's jaws were too powerful and he could feel every individual fang burying itself deeper into his skull. The pain in his head was the last thing on his mind then as the blackness overtook his vision and he collapsed to the ground. Theodore stroked his chin in curiosity as the illusory creature that had taken on the form of Elizabeth Carter faded away from view and Will Frederickson lay in a quivering mass on the floor. His eyes were completely rolled up into the back of his head and he was drooling from the corner of his mouth. Theodore nudged the comatose boy with his foot and made another mental note. "Illusory projections that coincide with subjects deepest desires and, or, fears are capable of rendering subject to a vegetative state through what I can only assume is a sort of psychic lobotomy. The subject is completely unresponsive to all stimuli. Length of the subject's comatose state is, as of yet, undetermined, though I hypothesize that the comatose rendering effect of traumatic exposure to said psychic illusions is, in all estimation...Permanent."
              
     Theodore called the authorities, who quickly rushed Will to the hospital. The story he gave the police was that the boy had been summoned to Theodore's office and, during their conversation, the boy appeared to suffer an aneurysm of some kind and collapsed. It helped his case in the fact that Theodore pressed the lie into their minds with a bit of psychic suggestion. Weak minds were, after all, so easily swayed with the correct amount of leverage. He knew how the minds of men worked, what words to use, what points to apply pressure to make a very persuasive argument. The addition of his psychic suggestions only further improved upon his own natural technique as a skilled manipulator. When the seemingly endless questioning reached its close, Theodore immediately made his way to the university library, where he began his search for the elusive and mysterious book from his dreams. The search went on for hours, but no sign of any book with Arabic text could be found, the card catalog yielded no results, and none of the incompetent, normal, librarians were familiar with such a book existing within the volumes. Frustration quickly gave way to despair as Theodore's fears of never uncovering the secret of his psychic abilities began to build up like a putrid bile. It was then that he heard a faint whisper coming from below him. The dialect was too faint to make out and he knew that it was surely a beacon from his grotesque benefactor. 
      
     "Does this library have a sub-level?" Theodore frantically asked one of the librarians at the front desk. The librarian was caught unaware and stuttered out a quick "yes," before regaining her wits about her. "I'm sorry, but the sub-level is for library staff only, we keep the rarest books in storage down there and they can only be acquired through a loan request. If you know the book you wish to request, you can fill out a form here and if it gets approved, we will personally fetch it for you." Theodore's distaste for normals was even more prevalent than ever now and he hardly had time to mince words with this 40 something, plain Jane librarian who wore horn rimmed glasses, a dull, grey dress, and had her stubby nose buried in some dime store romance novel. The truth was just below him and he hadn't a moment to spare, he reached out with his thoughts and grabbed the librarian's mind with all the force he could muster. The librarian dropped her book and opened her mouth wide in a silent scream, Theodore had blocked off the part of her brain that manipulated her vocal cords and he stared into her dull, blue, tear filled eyes and spoke softly, but with absolute authority. "You WILL take me to the sub-levels, where I will locate the book I seek. Defy me once more and I will break your conscious mind into fragment and have you running through the streets stark naked as naught but a mad, dribbling imbecile!"
      
     Blood began to trickle from the librarians nostrils and she nodded weakly. Theodore loosened his hold on her and she let out a gasp of relief as the pain in her head subsided to a dull thrumming. He was still there, omnipresent within her every thought, and for some inexplicable reason, she knew it to be true. Without hesitation, she grabbed up an old key from a nearby drawer and led him to a door marked "library personnel only". They entered the door and descended a spiral staircase to another door where the librarian used the key to unlock the old metal door. 
      
     "You have served adequately my dear, now sleep and remember nothing when you  awake," Theodore commanded, and the librarian drooped to the floor, falling into a deep slumber. Theodore took the key from her hand and smiled as he patted her cheek. Beyond the door was a veritable vault of valuable volumes. Cracked leather-bound books were on every shelf. There were books laden with gold filigree in the spines and intricately woven into designs on the covers. These were impressive to be sure, but none of them were the source of the dark whispering that had now grown stronger as his proximity to it was now closer. The once unintelligible words were now an dialect unfamiliar to him, he assumed it was Arabic, just as the words in the book were, but it was so very harsh and alien to him, unlike any spoken human dialect he had ever heard. Fear gripped him as the whispers grew more and more in volume. In the back of the massive storage room, he felt a sense of dread that he had felt assault his senses only once before: in his last dream. On a pedestal, propped up on display was a positively unholy looking tome. It was wrinkly and brown and single leather strap held the covers together. When he approached it, what once were whispers in his head had grown into a dissonant, cacophonous choir of pure madness. He burst into insane laughter and his eyes filled with tears that streamed down his face. The fear he felt now was even more prevalent than in his dream. This book was pure evil, and the secrets it held would surely drive him mad beyond any hope of salvation, but here it was, the answer to all his questions, the tome that would unlock a new era for the human race. He clutched the book, and immediately felt the utter wrongness about it, the texture of the cover was familiar, it was like touching old, leathery flesh. It was cold to the touch and he wanted nothing more in the world than to throw it away and flee for his life and sanity, but he was resolved, and was driven by a force inside that he could not and would not deny. He undid the leather strap and opened the book, and the horrid choir of voices immediately stopped. "Perhaps that was all a test, to see if I was committed to my own goals?" He thought to himself as he read the title of the book. The ink was red, like blood, and he slowly mouthed the words to himself, still unsure how he knew Arabic, but cared little for the how at that point. 
      
     "Necro...nomicon...ex...Mortis..." Came the words from his mouth. "The book of the dead, yes, that is what it translates to. The author is one...Abdul Alhazared, which would explain the Arabic text," he said to himself as he flipped through the pages one after another. The Necronomicon was filled with monstrous, disgusting, illustrations of unspeakable abominations from three legged, dog-like beasts with elongated fangs, to amorphous blobs containing hundreds of mouths and eyes. It outlined, in detail, unholy rituals, spells, and incantations of all manner. Then he found entries that truly horrified him, prophecies laid out by Alhazared and the profiles of what he called "The Great Old-Ones." The Great Old Ones, as it turned out, were alien beings of god like power from beyond the furthest reaches of the known universe and even beyond that, from terrible parallel dimensions filled with creatures capable of driving mortal minds completely insane with nothing but a look. The pages profiled several of these Great Old Ones and their chief servants, but there was one in particular that drew him in with the greatest of interests. 
     
     "Y'zancevlathoth...Also called The Grasping Overmind, Warden of Secrets, The Dark Observer, Lord of Dreams and Thoughts. His domain lies within the murky, black seas of Shilzx where all thoughts and dreams coalesce into an inky abyss that feeds the Overmind with psychic energy. He reaches into the minds of mortals through their dreams where he connects with their every thought. Y'zancevlathoth is believed to have been the brain of an even greater Old One who was slain in a most terrible war before the beginning of time itself. The mind of that unnamed god took on sentience and emerged from it's host body to claim dominion over the realm of dreams, thoughts, and secrets. Y'zancevlathoth is truly omniscient, it knows all things, and sees all things in all of time through the minds it has touched, both past, present and future.  His servants are the Morbiules, the Morbiuls are amorphous beings that meld their form to that of their victim's greatest desires to lure them in. The Morbiuls consume  all memories, emotions, and conscious thoughts, leaving their victims as mindless shells that live on in total oblivion until death. The consumed thoughts are taken by the Morbiuls to the shores of Shilzx and poured into it's dark waters for Y'zancevlathoth to feed on."
      
     Theodore knew for certain that Y'zancevlathoth had touched his mind through his dream. The question that lingered though was, "why me?" The answer didn't take long for Theodore to discern. "Yes, why not me? Am I not the perfect vassal for his vast and endless intellect? It was I alone who made strides toward unlocking the power that he has gifted me with. I alone who am worthy of being his herald, the avatar of his will and power on Earth! Through me, my master will touch all minds that reside in this world and his hunger will be appeased! Starting with this pitiful school." Theodore broke out into mad laughter as he exited the vault, stepping over the still sleeping form of the librarian. He dropped the key to the vault next to her face and ascended the stairs to the main library, the Necronomicon was still clutched to his side in a vice-grip. As he left the library, the "eye" on his forehead had opened fully and, behind it, a dark force could see all that he saw, as if it were looking through a window into the outside world; a world it had so many plans for.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      
      
     As the days progressed, Theodore went about his business as usual. His master plan required care and patience in order for it to succeed, which meant not throwing undue suspicion on himself too early. His powers were growing daily but he hadn't yet reached full control of them to the point that he was unstoppable. "One mind at a time," he told himself as he watched the students come and go from his classes. Physically, Theodore had become even more of a shell than he was before. Since his discovery of the Necronomicon, he hadn't eaten, slept, bathed, or rest once. His thinning hair had fallen out completely and almost all at once, his skin was a mottled, grayish hue, and clung to his boney frame as tightly as the flesh that clung to the the cover of the Necronomicon. Several teeth had fallen out, and the pupils in his eyes had turned almost solid black. Many of his students had dropped out of his classes, but that was of little consequence to Theodore now. After his final class of the day, he locked himself in his office and poured through the pages of the Necronomicon again, soaking up valuable information about Y'zancevlathoth, and the Morbiuls. The words of Abdul Alhazared spilled into his mind and drove his every thought to madness and evil. In his mind, he could hear the subtle encouragement of Y'zancevlathoth, who was tied to his mind, both the conscious and the unconscious. There were no secrets now between them, servant and master were now of one mind and purpose and Theodore gave it willingly. As he studied the flesh bound book a knock came on his office door and he broke away from the book, tossing it into a drawer in his desk. He unlocked the door and opened it to find a most familiar face on the other side, Elizabeth Carter. She was as beautiful in the flesh as she was in the dreamscape he frequented every night. Ever since his psychic encounter with the young Will Frederickson, the girl had been an object of his lust and desire. In his dreamscape, he envisioned her as she was in Frederickson's mind, only now in his mind it was him making furious and heated love to her almost daily. She didn't know it herself, but Theodore knew her intimately in ways that, had she seen it herself, would have made her sick. 
      
     "Dr. Sigman, I was hoping I might speak to you for a moment." When Theodore looked at her, he saw flashes of her naked, sweat stained body quivering beneath him, her lovely blue eyes, filled with tears of equal parts pain and pleasure, staring up at him, a devious, lusty smile as her tongue traced her lips. He swallowed hard, gave his best smile, and stepped aside, motioning for her to enter. "Of course Ms. Carter, please come in. I hope you'll excuse the mess, my recent work has left me in a bit of a frantic daze and I'm afraid I haven't had much time to devote to organizing all my materials and books." She nodded, returning his smile with a half hearted one of her own and stepped into his office, sitting down in one of the chairs he offered to her. Theodore sat down behind his desk and poured himself a small glass of water. He was nervous around her, it was hard for him to suppress his arousal. It wasn't just her beauty that enamored him, it was her intelligence that drew him to her. She wasn't a normal, not like the rest. She wasn't quite at his level, but she far surpassed any of the other normals he had ever met. She had so much potential and that was what Theodore admired about her so much. It had occurred to Theodore that her sense of curiosity, her natural intelligence, her desire to learn and gain knowledge, might make her a suitable candidate to join with Y'zancevlathoth; the thought made him giddy with anticipation. Surely, with her natural predisposition to gaining new knowledge, she would accept Y'zancevlathoth's gift and aid his cause. Theodore could see it now, the high priest and priestess of Y'zancevlathoth, together, gathering up minds to merge with their dark master, feeding the seas of Shilzx and, by extension, Y'zancevlathoth. Theodore caught himself and cleared his throat, turning his attention back to Elizabeth.
      
     "So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about Ms. Carter?" Elizabeth straightened out her skirt and looked serious at Theodore. "It's about William Frederickson, you were the last one to see him before he fell into that coma. I was hoping that you might know more about what led up to his incident." Theodore could feel his heart dropping in his chest and bile rising up in his throat. She wanted to talk about that pathetic normal, Frederickson, not to gauge him for knowledge or converse about things that actually mattered. "How very disappointing," he thought to himself, not belying his true feelings in his expression. 
      
     "Yes, Mr. Frederickson, he gave me quite the startle when it happened. He and I were discussing his performance in class when he up and collapsed on me in the middle of our discussion. The doctors say it was an aneurysm was it? A stress induced aneurysm isn't out of the question. I have seen several cases of it myself, though never quite so up close before. Mr. Frederickson is one of our star athletes is he not? I haven't looked at his records myself, so I'm afraid I don't know the details, but did the doctor's detect any traces of steroid use?" Elizabeth stared at the floor and shrugged, "I haven't actually been to the hospital to visit him, so I know about as much as you do." Theodore nodded and continued, "a chemical imbalance coupled with copious amounts of stress, both physical and mental, could be a viable catalyst for a spontaneous aneurysm."
      
     Elizabeth's expression seemed to show that she accepted the truth of what Theodore was saying. He was her teacher after all, and a far cry more knowledgeable about matters of the brain both physiological and psychological. But Theodore could sense, more than actually see, that she felt particularly uncomfortable in his presence despite his reassuring. Perhaps his recent changes in appearance were a bit off-putting, but that was of no consequence. There would be plenty of time left to worry about his physical health and appearance after Y'zancevlathoth's grand design was set into motion. 
      
     "You seem troubled Ms. Carter, is there anything on your mind you'd like to discuss. I may be your teacher, but I am a licensed therapist as well. I would hate for you to leave with feelings of distress weighing you down." 
      
     Elizabeth squirmed in her seat a bit and took a deep breath. "Professor, is it normal to have recurring dreams on a nightly basis?" Theodore's eye twitched ever so slightly, "perfectly normal Ms. Carter. I've had several patients come to me with the same issues. They would have the same dream every night for days, weeks, months, and in some cases, years. Slight variations in the dream may arise, but typically the same dream would occur regularly. To be honest with you, I too have had trouble with a certain recurring dream, though I've learned mental techniques which allowed me to limit it's recurrence to only a few times a year. Would you care to discuss it, I promise full confidentiality. Perhaps if you were to express your dream into words, it might help you to work through any problems it may be giving you."
      
     Elizabeth seemed to feel even more uncomfortable than before and Theodore could sense it. Strangely, the sensations he normally felt in others was stronger, more in tune, he was easily able to read lesser normals without much effort, but this girl almost seemed to be resisting his psychic intrusions. Whether it was intentional or whether her intellect provided a more potent form of psychic shielding, Theodore couldn't be certain; at least not without further testing of the proverbial waters.
      
     "It's very embarrassing to speak of Professor. I'm a bit hesitant to talk about it...In front of YOU that is." Theodore's eye twitched again, he was growing impatient with her stalling and had to know her thoughts. He took a deep breath and spoke calmly, "I understand if the contents of your dream are sensitive and personal, such things usually are. Many people are prone to not discuss what they see in their dreams simply because of the very personal nature of dreams. Dreams are a window to the subconscious mind, the id, the most secret, and hidden desires that we are all unconsciously driven by. Often times, what you see in your dreams is like a message from your subconscious, and such messages are of the highest personal value to us because we may not want others to know that secret side of ourselves that we keep locked away. I don't wish for you to feel uncomfortable in discussing what may be a private matter for you, I simply want to offer you a medium in which you can help yourself work through your inner most dilemmas. On a mental level, it's very healthy to shed yourself of such excess baggage. I believe Mr. Frederickson would agree, had he the ability to speak to us now. Don't hold it in Elizabeth, just let it go and free yourself to the much needed release of pressure in your thoughts and emotions." 
      
     Theodore's soft, almost monotone rambling was an intentional effort to lower Elizabeth's defenses. He often utilized such subtle hypnosis techniques on other patients before to great success. Elizabeth seemed lulled by his speech and she physically relaxed. Her apprehension clearly had unconsciously fortified her mental defenses against him. She had so much potential, and Y'zancevlathoth would need followers with such potential to facilitate his design on the world of mortals. Elizabeth was the perfect choice for his psychic priestess, and the ideal mate to Theodore's ever growing mental superiority. She would join willingly after enough mental suggestion and perhaps, with sufficient time and Y'zancevlathoth's influence, she might even grow to love Theodore. Their children would be kings and queens among the enthralled future generations of the new human race, feeding their dark god all the psychic energy he would ever need. 
      
     Elizabeth was quite relaxed now, both physically and mentally. Theodore could feel his grasp on her mind slowly wiggling past her unconscious defenses. It wouldn't take too much longer to fully ensnare her. Her voice came like a whisper at first, and then grew as she began to speak about her dream.
      
     "In my dream, I'm all alone in a big house, I'm...I'm with Will, and we're making love. The ecstasy and pleasure is beyond words to describe. He's rough with me, like an animal really, but I like it. As I feel him thrusting into me, enraptured by the pain and pleasure he gives me, I look over for a moment and I see you in the doorway staring at us...at me. I'm even more excited knowing that you're watching me getting fucked by him. Before I know it, you're gone and I'm alone with Will again. That was the first time I ever had that dream, but after Will went into his coma, the dream changed. I'm all alone in the big house, Will isn't there now but I need that feeling again, so I pleasure myself on that bed, and then you're there again in the doorway, watching me, and it excites me. Every night, it's the same thing, but you get closer and closer with each passing night until you're practically on top of me, and I want you inside me so badly, but you only hover above me, watching, waiting for something. In my dream, I'm so excited, but when I wake up, I'm terrified. I wasn't even sure about coming to speak to you because you scare me. I don't know why, but there's something inside you that makes my heart scream out in warning."
      
     This new development intrigued Theodore. Could human beings connect within the dreamscape? She perfectly described the scene that Theodore saw when he was inside Will Frederickson's mind. Was it possible that her subconscious mind traveled across the psychic ether into Will's mind and became a very part of his dream. The two had connected on a mental level that suggested Elizabeth possessed latent, empathic abilities within the deepest reaches of her mind. Not only that, but she had connected to Theodore as well on a certain level. Whenever he envisioned her and made love to her in his own dreamscape, her empathic abilities picked up his psychic wavelength and converted it into his image within her dreams. The fact that he was getting closer to her every night in her dreams suggested to him that their empathic connection was growing stronger with each simultaneous dreamscape they created. It also suggested that since he wasn't actually inside her in her dreams, but only hovering above her meant that a block was in place preventing total empathic merger. Her own abilities had subconsciously put that final barrier in place, and it was strong, that much was for certain. Within his own dreamscape, his abilities far outshone her own, which is how he was able to penetrate her so deeply in his own mind. But within her mind, he was the weaker of the two and his powers couldn't shatter the final defense in place. It was of no consequence to Theodore though, he had time, and he was confident that with Y'zancevlathoth's aid, his power would come to easily break her down and bring her to his side soon enough.
      
     In Elizabeth's mind, as the trance took hold of her, her consciousness retreated and she found herself within her own dreamscape. She had entered this place before, many times in the past, but never before had the experience been so vivid and clear. She wasn't aware of her own abilities, and so her vision of her own dreamscape was hazier than it was now. Now, she was fully immersed in this plane as her body went into auto-pilot. She saw a single hospital bed in front of her, a figure was laying in it, covered by a white sheet. She could hear gurgling noises and see an occasional jerk come from under the sheet. She swallowed hard and walked up to bed. "William?" She said, to which a hand slid out from under the sheet. It wore a sapphire studded class ring that Elizabeth immediately recognized as Will's and she grasped the hand. It squeezed tightly and she heard more hideous gurgling noises emanating from under the sheets. "Will, what's wrong with you? Let me help you." The hand squeezed down tighter on her own as if to warn her not to, but she reached out regardless and removed the sheet from his face. The sight she saw made her scream and then wretch. Will's face had been gnawed off and the gruesome, tattered remains of what was once his face and the front of his skull began to shriek and gurgle as he tried to hide it with his hands.  Elizabeth fell to her knees and hugged herself tightly, heaving violently and trying not to scream again. This wasn't Will like she had seen him in the hospital, in the real world, he looked perfectly fine, but this pitiful reflection of him within her mind was how he truly was now. Above her, there was a tapping noise and she looked up, Will had covered his face again with the sheet and was tapping on the table next to him. It was a medical chart, outlining his condition, she wasn't a doctor so none of it made sense, but what she did know was the word he was pointing to: doctor.
      
     "Doctor? Do you need a doctor Will?" She said, but the hand held up a finger and wagged it as if to say "no", Will pointed again at the word doctor and then pointed toward the door of his room. Elizabeth seemed confused, "I don't understand, Will, do you want to leave? Do you want me to leave?" Will's hand made the same negative gesture with his wagging finger and he mimicked turning a doorknob and opening the door. "A door?" Elizabeth said and Will held his thumb up as if to say "yes". She watched his hand as it alternated pointing at the word doctor and the door. "Doctor...Door? That doesn't make any sense Will, Doctor Door? Doctor....Door. Doctor Theodore!?" Will held his thumb up again to affirm and she put a hand to her mouth. "Professor Sigman did this to you? But how?" It was then that the dreamscape went black and Will disappeared from sight. "Will? WILL!! Where are you? Will!" A chill crept over her body and a strange two-toned voice whispered to her. "How indeed mortal? My children have claimed that one and stolen all that he is: memories, emotions, intelligence, every thought he ever had or ever will have is mine, and it is delicious." Elizabeth could hear the voice coming from everywhere at once and it grated on her ears like the grinding of metal on stone. Her teeth chattered and her eyes darted everywhere as she tried to drown out the voice by covering her ears. There was a hideous laughter that she heard clear as day ringing in her head. 
      
     "A fruitless gesture moral. I AM the essence of the mind, it is my domain and you are merely a speck of dust amidst me. I speak not with words, but with thoughts. To hear my true voice as it is beneath the dark seas of Shilzx is to invite madness and death upon your fragile mind. You are a fascinating mortal Elizabeth Carter, much like my new thrall, the good doctor Sigman. He is possessed of great psychic potential as well and was the best vessel for my power on this plane of existence. As you are now, you have not the skill to resist his intrusions into your mind, it is only a matter of time before you are consumed and enthralled, subservient to my will and desires. I can offer you a much sweeter alternative though, accept my gift, give yourself to me and become as a goddess among the other mortals. Your empathic ability will be the key to my dominion over the prime material plane. Through you, I will extend my influence to touch and consume all thoughts from all minds that reside on this world. Become my vassal and know eternal bliss, or deny me and become among the first of billions to fall into oblivion. I will devour the essence of your mind and within me you will know terror and pain greater than even your hell could concoct in an eternity." 
      
     Elizabeth shut her eyes and pressed tighter against her ears, even though she knew that the voice spoke true, it wasn't speaking to her with an actual voice, it was communicating to her in her mind and nothing could block it out. She stood up then and flashed a look of pure defiance and fury at the darkness. "If I'm as valuable to you as you say, then you wouldn't dare to harm me!" There was no reply. "I'll never give in to you for anything! I don't want your power at the price you're asking, it isn't worth the hell I'll have to go through!" Elizabeth clutched onto a small gold crucifix she wore on a chain around her neck and started to pray. The laughter from the darkness was unbearable to hear. "There is no god you can pray to that is strong enough to save you from what comes next. You have made a most unwise decision. My herald will dismantle your fleeting defenses and, one way or another, you will belong to me. It is a shame you chose to serve me unwillingly, you might have been spared the torment I have in store for you. Be prepared to reap the terror you have sown this day Elizabeth Carter, for it is in endless supply." With that last word, the darkness around Elizabeth began to crack and shatter, shards of pure black crashed down around her and she felt herself begin to fall, she fell into the dank abyss and below a enormous, tooth-filled maw opened up and she plummeted inside it, screaming all the way.  
      
     With a snap of his finger, Theodore broke the trance and Elizabeth straightened up. She covered her mouth as if she were about to scream and she could feel her eyes tearing up. Theodore cocked his head to the side, "are you quite alright Ms. Carter? You seem even more troubled now than before." Not able to hold in the trauma that Y'zancevlathoth wrought on her, she screamed out "NO!" And threw her books at Theodore, he dodged out of the way and started to laugh. "I see my master has spoken to you, how unfortunate then that you had to be so unwilling, I can hear him speak to me, telling me what has transpired. I'm most disappointed in you Elizabeth, we might have been perfect together, brought into a flawless union under Y'zancevlathoth's ever watchful eye. You could have been a queen, basking in the pleasures of his good graces, his gifts! But as I said, it is unfortunate you had to be so unwilling, it is also unfortunate for you that, while my master held you at bay, I have unlocked all but the last defense in your mind. You won't leave this office under your own will!" Elizabeth looked down and saw a silver blade on the floor, it was the letter opener that Will had brandished against Theodore. She reached down and held it out in front of her, threateningly. 
      
     "I won't let it happen, I'll go to the police and when they find out what you've done they'll throw you in an asylum or hopefully put you in the chair!" Theodore laughed to the point that he could barely breathe. "So your grand plan is to go to the police and tell them what exactly? That an evil alien god has ensnared your teacher, who in turn psychically murdered your would-be boyfriend? Who then, I wonder, will the men in white coats be escorting to said asylum? Face the facts Elizabeth, the truth is far too fantastical for the limited minds of normal humans to comprehend, and that's because they don't want to comprehend anything they deem as being beyond the scope of their established reality. They live their lives in ignorance of the horrifying powers that lurk beyond the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Ignorant even to the same horrifying powers that slumber within our own planet! The Necronomicon has shown me the truth of their existence, the Great Old Ones are the ultimate power in the universe, their lieutenants and soldiers came to us from the stars when our world was still in it's infancy! We are less than ants before their power and should accept our destiny as their worshippers, or embrace the fate of becoming their fodder. That is the truth that Y'zancevlathoth has so graciously bestowed upon me through the Necronomicon! I am his herald, I am his mortal avatar who will bring about the end of the old human race and usher in a new era of progress under his dark banner! Future generations will feed him with their minds and Y'zancevlathoth will rule his children as the one true god of this material plane!" 
      
      Elizabeth felt as if she might cry then. Theodore's mad ranting was distressing enough, but the very notion of a world under the control of that thing she saw in her head nearly pushed her out of her rational mind. She could literally feel her thoughts teetering on the edge of insanity as she heard the mocking whispers of Y'zancevlathoth in her mind again. Tears filled her eyes and she whimpered, "you're evil...You're pure evil...You and your master are PURE EVIL!!" She screamed at him with every ounce of rage and defiance left in her. Theodore stopped laughing then, he wore a serious expression and stared hard at her tear stained cheeks and spoke softly. "Yes, but we ARE pure..."
      
     Suddenly and without warning, Theodore dashed out from behind his desk, making a grab for her arm. Elizabeth screamed when his hand clamped down on her. She dropped the letter opener but she instinctively retaliated by bringing her fingernails down over his face. Theodore cried out in pain as her long fingernails broke the skin, some of them breaking and splintering off in the deep, bleeding gashes they left behind. Theodore grasped his wounded face and Elizabeth went for the door. It was locked. "I'll have you begging my forgiveness when I finish with you, bitch!" Yelled Theodore as he struck again at her, this time not with his hands, but with his mind. Elizabeth cried out as a sharp pain jabbed into her brain like a spike. Theodore was mentally assaulting her, telepathically pressing in hard against the pain receptors in her brain. The pain was excruciating and it disoriented her, she wanted to vomit and prayed she would just pass out or die, anything to stop the pain. But Elizabeth knew that this wasn't just about her anymore. Will wasn't ever coming back, her professor had been lost to the madness and now she had an evil god-like alien being, psychically lurking around inside her every thought. Theodore was right, no one would ever accept what she had to tell them as the truth, it sounded so absurd that Elizabeth wondered if all she was experiencing now was just a dream. The resurgence of pain brought her out of that line of reasoning as she knew that all this was very real. 
      
     "Stop it! Stop it!" She cried out as another spike of sheer pain struck her again, she didn't have much left in her, but what little willpower she retained, she directed it toward resisting his constant mental intrusions. Theodore shook his head in amusement, "you only prolong the inevitable Elizabeth, you can't keep me out because you're mind is weak by comparison to mine." He sighed and stepped up beside her, placing a hand on her head to stroke her sweat matted hair. Elizabeth was simply too exhausted and disoriented to resist his physical advances now, she could only keep up what mental defenses she had left to her. Had he wanted, Theodore could have raped her and she wouldn't have bothered to put up a fight, because the physical world wasn't the site of the battle anymore, it was in the mind. Inevitable or not, she wasn't about to give either Theodore or Y'zancevlathoth an easy victory over her. If the creature wanted her, he would have to earn her by overpowering her mind completely. Theodore grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and yanked her face up to look into the withered visage of his own. "If only you knew what I knew, Elizabeth. You wouldn't have to suffer like this. You could be free, you could bask in the power granted by its dark embrace, you could have lived for the pleasure and ecstasy of true power. Yes, if only you knew the truth that I knew."
      
     Elizabeth's eyes went wide at that, and a dawning of understanding fell over her. She DID know what Theodore knew. Y'zancevlathoth said as much itself when it said that through her, it would be able to touch all minds.
      
     "Empathy..." She managed to whisper, and Theodore sneered. "What was that?" He said, shaking her head violently. "What did you say?" Elizabeth smiled weakly and said, "empathy" once again and Theodore's lips quivered as he let her hair go and backed away. It was too late for him though, the empathic connection had been established and Elizabeth could feel their minds becoming as one. She took in his memories and his knowledge, the secrets of the Necronomicon and the Great Old Ones.  The knowledge that Theodore had gained through Y'zancevlathoth flowed into her and she grasped her ability fully. The two of them appeared then within the dreamscape, whose dreamscape it was, neither truly knew, but this was the arena that they would do battle in for dominance. Elizabeth reached out with her mind and grabbed Theodore, he tried to resist, but her newfound grasp of her abilities proved her to be the faster of the two. She saw Theodore as a child and watched his life flash before her, she saw his terrible dream about his father and the dog-men, his encounter with Y'zancevlathoth, and his psychic intrusions of both Will and the librarian. It wasn't just seeing these things however, it was feeling them, it was understanding them, and in understanding him, she pitied him. The array of emotions she felt as his joy, his pain, his happiness, and sorrow enveloped her senses completely and in that moment of unity she loved him and hated him all at once.
      
     As she experienced his life, Theodore experienced hers as well, from her very conception to the moment she was born, and he was born with her in that moment, he lived each moment of her childhood, her teenage years, the early years of womanhood and knew what it was to be her. He felt so at peace inside of her, but the dark whispers of Y'zancevlathoth were stronger still than any empathic peace he experienced, and he forced back Elizabeth from his mind. Before Theodore could manage to break her hold on his mind, Elizabeth felt, rather than heard, a sinister echo in Theodore's mind, an echo that went back as far into Theodore's past as she had gone, and a terrifying suspicion overwhelmed her. She was forced to let go and there he stood before her. In the dreamscape, Theodore looked whole again, no longer emaciated, a full head of hair, and a well toned figure. Had they met under far different circumstances, Elizabeth admitted to herself that she would have been very attracted to him, but she knew it was an illusion that he created for himself in the dreamscape. This was a realm where the mind was the master, where perception ruled reality and nothing was subject to the laws of the physical realm. The one who's imagination was the superior would emerge the victor. 
      
     Theodore paced in a slow circle around Elizabeth, her eyes never left him. "I stand corrected Elizabeth, you aren't weak after all. I can't say that I'm disappointed in you now, on the contrary, I'm quite impressed that you were able to pull off such a feat. Your last moment and a dawning of clarity led you to fully grasp your own power. My master is most pleased with you, I can hear his praises from the murky seas of Shilzx for your skill. You will make a perfect catalyst for his conquest of all minds." Elizabeth balked at him, "Only if you have what it takes to beat me at your own game Professor. You'll find me a lot less susceptible to your intrusions, we're on equal footing now." Theodore smirked at her, "no Ms. Carter...We are not."
      
     Theodore took a step forward toward her then and the ground cracked open in front of him, a black smoke rose up and shadowy, figures began to rise up from the fissure. They were completely black and lacked any facial features, save for the gaping, fanged maws. They came climbing out in various forms, some bipedal humanoids, others on four legs, some that looked spider-like in appearance, and even others that were writhing masses of tentacles attached to protruding head, like a squid. 
      
     "The Morbiuls. My master's children born out of nothing but his own thoughts and the endless inky waters of Shilzx. They take on many forms, but always prefer to lure their prey in with a form that best reflects their victim's deepest desires." Elizabeth gasped as the monstrous forms of the Morbiuls began to merge and coalesce into a familiar humanoid form; the form of Will Frederickson. 
      
     "Liz, I can't believe it, I thought I'd never get to see you again." Morbiul Will said, he stretched his hand out to her as he moved in closer. Elizabeth backed away from it, "no, it's a trick, I saw them, you're not Will. You're just one of those damned ink creatures, stay away from me!" Will looked pained as he stopped, "no Liz, even though the Morbiul got me, a piece of my consciousness still managed to survive in your own mind. Your empathic abilities preserved me. I can be with you in your dreams now Liz, it's like a fairy tale come true." Elizabeth could feel tears welling up in her eyes, it sounded so plausible that she couldn't believe it wasn't true. She started to walk toward Will and reached out her hand. Will moved closer and held his own hand out to hers, their fingertips brushed and Elizabeth clenched her fist. "There's just one problem with that...Will...I've already seen you in my mind, and in my mind, you don't have a face..."
      
     The Morbiul Will's face distorted into a demonic version of itself and it screeched at her before lunging at her face with it's jaws open wide for the feast. As the creature closed in only inches from her face it slammed head first into an invisible barrier, it's neck was twisted horribly and Elizabeth cringed as she watched the twisted version of Will realign it's head with the sound of bones snapping and grinding. A bright light shone from up above them at that point and the Morbiul looked into the sky and a great ball of brimstone came plummeting from the heavens. The Morbiul hurled itself against the invisible wall again and again in a futile effort to break it down. Before the brimstone meteor struck, the Morbiul's face contorted back into Wills and it looked at her with fear. "Liz...Baby..." The meteor struck down and crushed Morbiul Will beneath it, scorching the ground and leaving a massive crater. Elizabeth's eyes never left Theodore the entire time that the meteor began to fall.
      
     Theodore began a facetious applause and smiled, "very, very clever of you, seeing through the Morbiul's ruse. It would seem that manipulation of that caliber is useless against you, so shall we move along then to a good old fashioned contest of wills and creativity?" Elizabeth poised herself and licked her lips, "after you," she said with a grin. Theodore focused his mind and the image of a gargantuan black dragon appeared, it was covered from head to toe in spiked scales and above it's head, between two jagged horns, floated a crown of polished ebony and silver that radiated with dark power. It's deafening roar pushed Elizabeth back a few paces. In response, Elizabeth imagined a resplendent golden knight atop a massive, armored steed. The knight bore a razor sharp claymore in one hand and spiked, mirror polished tower shield in the other. The black dragon stomped the ground and lifted it's head, it breathed in deep and unleashed a gout of flame and darkness. The knight crouched behind his tower shield and deflected the dark flames until the attack subsided. With much dexterity and grace, the knight bounded up and leapt into the air at the dragon, he dropped his shield to the ground and took the claymore in both hands, swinging down on the dragons elongated neck and cleaving it in half. The dragon's head crashed to the ground and dark flames, and blood spewed out in a crimson rain of burning death. The knight was set aflame and burned away to cinders as the headless beast flailed in it's last moments.
      
     "Excellent response," Theodore chided derisively, "but we've only just begun!" 
      
     The mind battle between Elizabeth and Theodore raged on for what felt like days, each summoning forth a new construct or force of nature to assault the other and neither being able to gain ground against the other. Unbeknownst to the both of them, their psychic battle was having consequences on the material plane. While their bodies lay still on the floor in stasis, the energy emanating from them began to warp the air around them. The room faded into darkness as the energy built up until the entire psychology department building was enveloped by it. In their classes, the students could scarcely imagine what had brought on such an unnatural darkness in the middle of the day. There was utter silence then, not even the sound of breathing could be heard, until the silence was broken by a blood curdling scream from the back of one of the classrooms. The teacher, Mr. Harding, a balding, middle aged man who taught social-psychology grabbed a flashlight from the drawer of his desk and shined it at the back wall. A chorus of terrified screams emanated through the room as the light revealed the shadowy ape-like form of Morbiul deftly man-handling one of the students in the back. The Morbiul's jaws were firmly clamped down on the young man's neck and it jerked it's head back ripping flesh and sinew from the young man's body and unleashing a gout of blood that painted the wall from a dull, off-white to brilliant crimson that flowed down to the floor in a gory puddle. The fear induced mass hysteria began to take hold over the entire building as time and space warped around the area, merging the real world with the dreamscape, where monsters of all manner lurked and waited to strike. Morbiuls slinked out of the shadowy pockets of warped reality and pounced on the first fleeing mortals they could see. The students ran toward the exits, but to their horror, the exits simply brought them back inside the building. The warped space created by the psychic backlash had created a dimensional loop from which nothing could escape. As the horrified students and teachers desperately sought an escape, the Morbiuls slowly moved in for the feast.
      
     In both power and intellect they were equals, but in patience, Elizabeth proved the better of the two. In a rage unlike anything that Elizabeth had ever seen from the man, Theodore literally began to spit flames and acid from his own mouth, scorching and defiling everything around him. His once handsome features began to wither back into his original emaciated form and he screamed out such hate and fury, that Elizabeth nervously stepped away from him. "You are nothing to me child!" He screamed at her, the veins in his head popped out and he seemed on the verge of exploding, perhaps quite literally. It was then that Theodore had a most insane and brilliant idea that he confidently felt would end this annoying tussle. "If I can't beat you with my own power, then I know one that can. You had your chance to join us, but if we can not have you, then my master will have to settle with devouring your essence!" 
      
     He strained and screamed as he mustered up every last ounce of power in his mind that he could. The veins that stood out in his head literally popped and the blood coated his face like a red mask of rage. His flesh split open and the raw psychic energy flowed out of every wound in his body like a green tinted fog that began to gather and congeal into a form that was even more gargantuan than the black dragon he had summoned. Elizabeth screamed and dropped to the ground, throwing her arms over her head and shutting her eyes and ears as tightly as she possibly could with her frail human body. Theodore's laughter, mingled with his cries of agony as the psychic energy leaked out him, filled the air and saturated it in evil intentions. When the channeling came to an abrupt end, he stood bleeding from every inch of his body and his breathing was ragged and shallow. "He has come...I have summoned him from the inky realm of Shilzx to this plane...You have no...chance now, Elizabeth. Behold his great and terrible form, behold Y'zancevlathoth!!"
      
     Theodore turned around to witness his triumph, but there was only death awaiting him there. It defied all logic and reason, the form was unspeakable and there were no words to describe the utter, maddening horror of it. It looked like an enormous floating brain, but it was black and grey, tentacles of every shape and size protruded out of it and it was completely covered in hundreds of thousands of black pupil-less eyes. Eyes that saw into the infinity of time and space. At the base of the brain-like creature, near what, on a human brain, would have been the cerebral cortex, was a cavernous mouth filled with teeth and more tentacles that whipped about. The inky, dark waters of Shilzx flowed freely from that gaping maw and pooled around him in a miasma of filth. Morbiuls writhed within the folds of his body, vomiting out raw mental energy into him, and an unholy chorus of growls, roars, and screeches emanated from them as they went about feeding their father. In an instant, all of the eyes on the creature locked onto Theodore and he couldn't look away. The thing radiated such intense psychic power that it was a physical force that flayed Theodore's cracked and split flesh clean from his body, slumping off of him to the ground like a discarded robe. He couldn't close his eyes, he couldn't even register the pain of being flayed alive. The eyes, the hundreds upon thousands of eyes bore into his body, mind, heart, and soul, they saw everything about him, everything that was, everything that would ever be. He was more than naked before the gaze of the dark overmind, he was exposed to the very core of his existence. Not even a single atom could escape the Old One's gaze and Theodore had only a split second to realize his mistake before Y'zancevlathoth's unspeakable, indescribable presence projected the entirety of the universe into his mind. He saw it all in that short moment, he saw forever into the infinity and was one with endless void of time and space. Nothing could match the beauty and splendor that he felt in that moment. His eyes went completely white, for he no longer needed to see with such limited vision, his ears went deaf, for he no longer needed to hear anything but the music of the stars, he lost all feeling in his body, for pain and pleasure were sensations that were far too simple to encompass the warmth of unity he had with the universe, his tongue fell out of his mouth, for no words could ever again serve him to describe the majesty of the infinite. He was one with the truth of the universe, and the truth of time and space, which can not be expressed through the limitations of mortal words to explain. All of this occurred within a fraction of a fraction of a second until Theodore's fragile form could no longer contain the vast information that Y'zancevlathoth projected into him. The dreamscape shattered and Theodore's body liquefied and fell to the ground with a sickening splash. Elizabeth screamed as the dreamscape gave way beneath her and she fell into the abyss. Y'zancevlathoth unleashed a mighty roar as his own form, given shape by Theodore's psychic energy, began to dissipate and fade back into his own realm of Shilzx. Before it faded completely, Elizabeth caught one small glance at the creature and her mind shattered as easily as Theodore's body had. She saw into the Old One's mind and the truth of her very existence slammed into her like a train. The last words she heard were of Y'zancevlathoth in her mind, "this timeline has failed, he is not yet prepared." Elizabeth laughed. It was all a lie, everything was just a lie, or rather, it was all just a possibility not yet brought to being. She wasn't real, nobody was real, all things were simply a dream in the mind of a man who was yet to be. Elizabeth lost all semblance of sanity as the truth destroyed all reason, and she laughed and cried all the while that she fell into the endless abyss.
     
     He woke with a scream and grasped his throbbing head. Theodore felt suddenly ill as he hurriedly stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom where he wretched into the nearby wastebasket by his bed. "What a horrible dream," he said to himself as he sat back down on the edge of his bed. His knees were shaking uncontrollably and he was breathing hard and fast. The dream had been so very vivid, so very real to him, and he had never been more scared in his young life than at that point. From the door came a knock, "Theodore, are you alright son? Your mother and I heard you scream." It was the voice of his father who peeked into the dark room and flipped the light switch, the bright light made Theodore squint. "I'm sorry dad, it's ok, just a really bad nightmare is all. Could I have a glass of water though, maybe an aspirin? I got a little sick to my stomach." He swallowed hard and gave a reassuring smile, though inside, he was absolutely terrified and quite unwell. "You're ten years old Theodore, I think you're capable of getting your own water and aspirin if you want it. A man has to learn to be able to handle his own problems after all..." Theodore rolled his eyes and grinned, "...If he ever expects to make it in the world. Yes dad, I've heard that before, I'll go get it shortly, I just need a minute to settle down." Theodore's father nodded, "well you're certainly well enough to still be sarcastic I see. If there's nothing else, I'll let your mother know you're just fine. Goodnight son, get some rest. Oh and by the by, our new neighbors, the Carters, will be coming over tomorrow evening for a welcoming dinner that you're mother is preparing. They have a daughter, Elizabeth I believe, she's about the same age as you so I expect you to be on your best behavior and treat her well. I hear that she's a rather cute little lady, perhaps you two will become fast friends." Theodore nodded back, he hadn't been paying attention to what his father had said, "Oh, sure thing, g'night dad," he mumbled. Theodore's knees were still trembling and, a minute or so after his father left, he carefully walked to the door and flipped the light off. "Ehhh, forget about it..." he grumbled to himself as he crawled back into bed. Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance and he lay there beneath his sheets, eyes wide open and his mind drifting back to that horrible dream. What was all of that about anyway? A psychology teacher? Fat chance of that happening. He was going to be a successful businessman like his father. Elizabeth? He heard his father say it, and that name seemed so familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. Boy, would his best friend Will get a kick out of this when he told him about that crazy dream. Monsters and crazy mind powers. "What a dream..." He mumbled as his eyes grew heavy with sleep. Because that's what it had been after all, just a dream. As he drifted into sleep, his mind went back to better dreams of spaceships, cowboys, and dinosaurs, the kind of fantastical dreams that wouldn't cause him to wake up and vomit.  The storm began to reach it's apex and the thunder rolled on the horizon, a flash of lightning lit up the sky and just outside Theodore's window, an inky, black, humanoid form watched and observed him as he slumbered and a dual-toned whisper floated into Theodore's ears as he slept, worming it's way into the deepest reaches of his subconscious mind. 
       
     "...Soon..."