This is definitely out of left field.. Hope you like it, please R&R.

She sat up slowly. Her hair was a little messy, but only on account of it being longer. Her legs were cold, and she looked down to see high heeled black velvet mary janes. Her legs were white, very white, and she realized she was wearing white thigh highs underneath a short blue dress. Her hand was clenched around something, and she lifted it, staring at the knife in confusion. She rustled when she stood, and realized that the dress she was wearing only just covered her ass. It was a full skirt, though, on account of the layers of ruffles underneath it. She ached, vaguely. She was in a dark, slightly damp... sewer? There was a faint, persistent blue glow to everything, as though light from the street were leaking in somewhere.

"What ever this is, it's royally fucked." She murmured. As she looked around, she sighed deeply. At least she had a knife.

She shivered in the cool air, and started walking.

His breathing was shallow, and he held it, quietly, praying his heart wasn't beating too loudly. The shadow paused for the longest moment, then continued. The floor creaked in soft protest. The worn leather shoes disappeared into the hallway, and a voice bellowed, "I'm going to find you, you little shit!"

He didn't dare crawl out from under the bed.

A flicker indicated light up ahead, and she moved toward it, trying to walk quietly despite the echo of the tunnels. A murmur of undistinguishable voices could be heard, and she stepped around the corner. The men were grotesque. A sad, mutilated, almost comical collection of pain and despair. One was missing an eye, and skin had sealed itself over the socket. Another had a hunchback, and the third remained in the shadow, unmoving, and silent.

"Who's there?" The one-eyed man shouted hoarsely into the darkness.

Alex stopped, holding her breath.

"Come out or I'll sniff you out."

She stepped out of the shadow and into the flicker of the fire they had burning in a barrel or trash can, she couldn't tell which at this point.

"Where am I?" She kept the knife gripped tightly behind her back, her other hand gently holding her wrist.

"You're down here, with us."

"Where is 'here'?"

"Underground. Tunnels. Not too bright, are you?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm the seer," The man barked a laugh at this, and the hunchback stamped his feet.

"I'm a police detective. I need you to tell me a way out of here."

"Oh, there's no way out."

"That's.."

"I've looked." He hissed at her, his one eye staring at her, squinting slightly.

His mother smiled at him. There was sun shining into the kitchen, and she handed him a sandwich on a plate. Her hand was disproportionately large, though, and oddly colored. It was pale, almost gray, and clammy. She shook it, looking at it in horror. He pulled back from the plate, her hand and the smell. She cried out, a sound of fear, her flesh aging and sagging and bloating, decomposing before his eyes, until she lay before him.
"Do you know these tunnels well?" She demanded, moving closer. The seer pulled away, almost in fear.

"Well enough."

"What's up ahead?"

"Darkness."

"Anything else?"

"You'd do well to fear the dark, little girl."

The room was red, entirely. The soft carpet was red. The walls and ceilings were red. Heavy drapes that covered unseen windows were also red. It was long, and big. Like a ballroom, maybe. There were no doors, and the drapes lifted to reveal wall.
She had walked on, past them, when the air warmed behind her. Something soft brushed her bare arm, and she whirled, knife bared to see the man who had kept himself hidden in shadows. He held something in his hand to her, and while she couldn't read his face, she slowly lowered the knife.

"Take it." He rasped, his voice a dry whisper. "You'll need it ahead." He pressed a box of wooden matches into her palm.

He paced the room, wondering how to escape it. No doors, no windows. No way to get out. He turned, scanning for the hundredth time, and realized it had gotten larger. Now, three shallow steps led up to a sitting area. More red, more shadows. Red chairs faced one another. The room was growing.
The darkness wasn't just the absence of light. It was a thing, a liquid inky thing that covered everything, surrounding her almost instantly. One moment, she had been in the blue shadow of tunnel, the hint of a fire behind her, and now... she couldn't tell where it had been. It was almost as if the darkness had been waiting for her, surrounding her in itself and disorienting her. Even though she had taken only a step into it, she knew she couldn't simply back up. It had gotten her.
It isn't real. He thought.

"This isn't real!" He shouted into the room, his voice loud at first, then dropping off into nothing. Swallowed by the vast sinister red space.

The room was silent, empty, devoid of any person or thing. It was the room itself that responded. A silent explosion seemed to shudder through its very foundations. Anger, fury, absolute hatred seemed to radiate from every corner. From the carpet, to the drapes. The redness of the walls seemed to ooze it. Malice and contempt for him. He turned, watching for any real movement or action. There were none, but the chairs were gone. The steps had disappeared, absorbed into the room once more. It was narrower, now. Smaller. Slightly smaller.

"This is just a dream. I can wake up. I'm not afraid of this. It isn't real." He laughed, and though the sound of it was swallowed soon enough, it didn't drop into nothing as before.

The room shuddered and the drapes shook with it. One of them parted to reveal slick blackness. Glass keeping darkness and freedom out.

She couldn't see anything. She couldn't feel anything, either. There was a stillness that surrounded her, like she was wrapped in a cocoon of blackness. Despite the silence, the stillness, and the darkness -- the all encompassing unyeilding darkness, she knew something was watching her.

She stood, perfectly still, barely breathing. It had it's face an inch from hers, staring into her with hatred, waiting for her to move foward.

"This isn't even a nightmare. You know why? Because it lacks anything frightening. This is just a weird dream, a mildly unsettling dream, maybe, but no more than that."

The room warped, a pulse going through it, and the drapes fell away revealing windows that held a black emptiness at bay.

She kept her eyes closed. Despite the darkness, she was still afraid she might catch a glimpse of what waited for her, and she didn't want to.
It was the emptiness that was kept from him only by thin, thin panes of glass that terrified him. The room wasn't meant to be frightening. It was his last, and only defense from the darkness beyond. He woke up, gasping.
Something was beeping faintly. The darkness that surrounded her slipped, and she was able to pull away from it, to step back... she turned over and grabbed her phone.

"Eames," She muttered.

"Hey."

"Hi.. what's up?"

"Nothing." His voice was soft, sleepy. "I just.. had a bad dream. I wanted to hear your voice."

"I had one too."

"What was it about?"

"I don't know.. it was just creepy. I don't... really remember. I just woke up scared silly."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Mhmm." He yawned.

"Good."

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm glad you did."

"Strange timing."

"Very." She too yawned, and curled up, pulling her blankets over her shoulder.

"You feel better?"

"Yeah. A lot."

"It's late. I'll let you go," He whispered.

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Alex."

"'Night, Bobby."