Kai: So, this is a piece of fanfiction. =) First, I must admit, that all this is my crazy idea. My friend is good ficwriter, so... X) really, that happened than she told me about NiGHTs and all this fandom. at first I was not amused, but than... ohhoho... Soo... this is merely funfiction, wrote.. in... 2008.
Obsession is not very good thing, yeah...
So.. if you don't like the idea - don't read. She is not Mary Sue... may be. X))) I just took ny idea, invade my friend's brains... So - this was the outcome.

BTW, I love NiGHTs, Reala, and others with all my heart. this is just my evil desire to have a piece of them))) Don't kill us))

The wake before

The girl was sitting in a chair, holding a thick paper folder close to her chest with her arms crossed. She was sitting quietly, with a calm air around her, fingering her folder lightly.

A middle aged man, sitting in a chair next to girl's, let a silent sigh escape him.

- It's okay, doctor, - the girl said in a calm, if not apathetic voice, - Me myself still don't know what that dream means.

- No, it's not okay, Kathy, - the man sounded a little tired, - Nightmares are, as a rule, a sign something is not okay.

- I know, - she nodded, - It's this... com-pen-sa-tory reaction, or something.

- Right. Dreams reflect our experience in the real world, you know that. And when we encounter something scary, or something that bothers us, or just feel bad about ourselves, then we have nightmares. Usually, they tell us to pay attention or change, but...

But. It has been always that little "but" that put the whole case at a stand.

Kathryn was a normal eleven years old girl - good family of both parents and an older brother, a set of loving relatives, a pet cat, several friends, and an usual girls' childhood route. Now, of course there were times when her parents would argue, or her brother would tease her, or times where she would get scolded at school, or fighting with a friend over the choice of the best cartoon hero... But all of this was normal, too. It simply wasn't stressful enough to cause bad dreams. Not dreams about being killed.

And Kathryn's bad dreams were about that.

It was, in fact, the dream. One single dream she seemed to have with no pattern whatsoever - she might have had it after a perfectly good day or a bad throughout one alike. Some other night she might have had a nice dream, but the next one the nightmare was here for her. He could tell most of it by heart already.

It rarely seemed to change. It was much more likely that Kathy was able to remember more details. She would be among scary persons, and she would have all sorts of fun together with them. When doctor asked her what kind of fun it was, Kathy seemed to think carefully before she said they were teasing other people. But she didn't seemed quite sure, and not that she couldn't remember - either she didn't want to or simply didn't wish to tell.

There was a lady dressed in blue, she told him once, with that really tough look on her. The lady said it's for the better, that those people would get stronger eventually. And it would be even more fun after that.

But apparently, while having fun, Kathy break some rules and get herself excluded from the games. It's that huge person, she said, kind of a principal or a very strict father. He sends her away. To fight and, eventually, die, no matter the result.

And only after she has died Kathy can wake up.

The creepiest part is, she said, is when my throat starts to swell and I begin choke on it. It's weird, because you aren't suppose to feel anything in a dream.

It's weird, she says, because in that dream I'm not supposed to have a throat to swell.

The man let another silent, baffled sigh escape his mouth. It just didn't make any sense. Kathy wasn't a bully, nor was she feared. She didn't have that kind of a lady or a huge person around her. She was getting along fine with her parents and her brother. No unreasonable pressure, no stress, no repressed wishes. Nothing. Just the nightmare several times a month for the past year or so.

And the middle aged kid psychiatrist was quite convinced it wasn't just the past year.

The girl pulled a loose strand of her fair hair.

- I've got some more pictures, if that helps, - she said with some reluctance.

He took her with a nod and began to flip through papers slowly. "If that helps", she says. And she well means it. She knew she wasn't being a nuisance, and no one thought she was being stubborn. It was more like... she didn't want to take his time. Almost in a grown-up way.

They had agreed she would put any picture she drew here in the folder. Dolls and princesses in fancy dresses. Fairies and dragons. Small doodles drawn on margins of her notebooks. Heroes with magic staffs. Some black and toothy things. Funny multicolored creatures, a mismatch of animal parts. Lots of grinning faces. Chubby goggle eyed angels in ruffs and blue jackets. Flowers. Pictures made of dark and murky blotches. Some clawed hands. Simply put, pictures of thing she liked, disliked, or took from her dreams.

And that nightmare too, of course.

He stopped at a piece she drew recently. A picture of someone tall, clad in a black-and-red mantle - at least it looked like a mantle - with dark-red horns and a yellow face with a wide and rather unsetting grin. Or, rather, it was a mask, with some black zigzags on its sides. In large hands of that person was a small, lightly-colored figure - the psychiatrist assumed it was the girl herself.

- Kathy? Can you tell me more about this person? - he asked, giving her the picture. He also assumed it was that huge person from the nighmare, and was prepared for a long, withdrawn pause. Quite unlikely she'd want to return to that one.

She gave the picture a brief glance.

- Oh, that's the Mask. I drew him yesterday, - she said in a surprisingly light voice. She tilted her head a little, - And I still think I did it all wrong. He didn't seem to wear a cloak, for one thing.

- The Mask? Is that his name?

- No-o, - she appeared thoughtful, - He was called by... some other name, I don't remember which. He was among the scarypersons. He's their leader or something, with that blue lady.

- And you were having fun with them, right? Playing tricks on people?

- Uh-uh, - she nodded, but a slight tension didn't escaped psychiatrist's sight.

- What is he like?

- Um... like the rest of scarypersons? - she set her eyes on her picture again, - I mean, he's strong, and not what you call good or friendly, he's arrogant, but, uhhh... he's reliable in a way. That huge person is always pleased with him.

- Like that blue lady?

- Somewhat, - she shrugged, - She's not that strong. Less muscles.

- How do you think, - the psychiatrist carefully ventured, - If this Mask was to tell your dream from his point of view, what would he have said?

Kathryn seemed to be surprised, if not baffled.

- We do, um, have fun together, but... it's not like we're having it with each other, see? We're not supposed to, anyway...

- He's not the one you fight, is he?

- No, - she was absolutely sure about that, - There's none of scarypersons when... when that happens. But I think there might have been the blue lady around...

She pulled a strand of hair again.

- It's actually quite sad he's not with me. But only I can go, see? I did something father thought was bad...

- I think it's enough for today, Kathy, - the psychiatrist said softly, returning her picture folder, - I'm sorry. I will meet you next week, and then we will try again to understand what's wrong.

- Okay. Goodbye, doctor, - the girl stood up and headed for the door. There, she turned around, - Doctor?

- Yes, Kathy?

- I think I might have to understand that myself. It's like that fight - only I can go, you see?