F.E.A.R: Resonance Reaction

Interval 00

Connection

The dream again.

So many times, she's had it. And it was always the same. Someone would appear, she'd look at them for a moment, and then vanish. Their confusion would fill her mind, their fear would engulf her heart…god she was tired of it all. Each mind rejecting her own…each heart shutting itself off from her touch. There was one though…one mind she had linked to. Her second son was now searching for a way to free her from her prison…while that thing chased him. She couldn't see into its mind. Was it human? Was it a construct like the horrid experiments A.T.C. had made? She didn't know. The sad thing was, though she couldn't find out what went on inside its head, for its mental barriers were strong enough to deflect her, she felt…as if it were familiar to her. As if she should know. And she hated it. But for now, she was trapped in the dream again. Always the same…

Damn this is the third time in a row!

Once again, his strange dream looped itself. The first time, he had followed some woman his mental self called Genevieve Aristide to this unusual chamber where strange lights would flare off.

The second time he'd found himself being attacked by shallow skinned monsters covered in blood, running like insects along the walls, their forms blurred by their speed.

But the third…was different. He found himself rising, propping against a fallen over vehicle. The world was dimmed, as if someone put mood lights on. The ground covered in ash. He looked up, and saw a child. A girl, who looked somewhere between five and ten, for his mind could not determine her true age, wearing a long red dress, with lengthy black hair that reached down to her waist stood before him. Her feet were drenched in a red substance that his second mind deduced as blood, and she was clutching a doll by the arm. Her entire posture radiated defeat, hoplessness, depression…and loneliness.

He realized, he'd not seen this girl before, in the back to back trio of dreams. It was a path he'd not traveled. She looked at him, lifeless, deadened eyes glancing past her night colored locks, and then turned. He sensed a buildup of sorts, as if she were about to do something…but she paused when words flew from his mouth, his sleeping mind confused as to why he was saying it.

"You're Alma…right?"

I froze. How the hell did this person know my name?! Who was he?! How could he get into my mind?! So many questions raced along my thoughts, as I unconsciously turned back to look at him. I couldn't see myself, but I could tell that shock and fear were written all over me. My body was tense, ready to lash out at a moment's notice…when he confused the living hell out of me.

He smiled.

I felt myself holding out my hand, smile etched on her face. I wasn't happy she was afraid of me. I was happy…I don't know why I was happy. It felt as if I'd found who I was looking for, someone I'd been seeking for a very long time. I felt myself speak again.

"What say we get you out of this place?"

I blinked. Did he just- No. I had to have been hearing things…but…there he was. Kneeling at my height…or rather my lack of height. Smile on his face…no deception in his eyes…hand outstretched as to take my own. And then it hit me.

He knows.

He knows who I am.

He knows what happened to me.

How did I figure that? His words…even though at this point in time, my mind was still almost like that of a child…his words I could tell they had more than one meaning to them. He knew I was trapped. Not just in this dream. Not just in this mindset. But in that damned bubble.

It all happened in a brief moment. I reached out to him. Not physically…or rather as physically as I could get in a dream. But mentally.

I hit a wall.

But…it didn't repel me. It was as if I had turned a corner, thought there was a hallway, and smacked straight into a door. I bounced off…and the wall held. But it wasn't a wall. It was a gateway. His mind was guarded…but not in a tense manner. As if to say "you are welcome here, but there are things you cannot see at this time." And then…I did something I hadn't done in god knows how many years.

She smiled. After a brief moment where it seemed as if she was going to turn and run, her eyes…they seemed to recover some of their lost light. Her smile…it was beautiful.

It was as if moonlight were reflecting off of serene waves in the ocean.

As if a rising sun colored the sky in a myriad color of pink and violet waving together.

It was as if a tired…battered…beaten child…were finally offered the love and affection of the parents that rose arms against them.

Or…in her case…as if someone had finally accepted her for who she was…as if she had finally found a friend.

A massive wave of emotion washed over me. My heart felt lightened by the brilliance of her ashen covered face. Her eyes seeming to twinkle like stars in the night. I felt her feelings…hope, joy…and a small bit of fear, which was quickly beaten back by the other, more positive emotions.

She held out a shaky hand, and I felt myself gently take her tiny hand in my own.

It's so soft… My inner self thought. The 'me' that knew that it was a dream. I blinked, and next I knew I was carrying her on my left arm, her own arms around my neck, her legs wrapped around my torso, with my forearm supporting her under her behind. I was about to turn when I remembered something.

"Oh right, can't forget this…" he suddenly said. I felt myself look at him, confused, before he knelt down again. He had me at an angle, as if to suggest something. For a moment, I thought he wanted me to let go…when I traced his line of sight.

My doll.

The doll left behind when they put me in that damn bubble.

The doll that would forever remain in front of my only place of joy…the swing back on Still Island.

How the HELL did he know?! I was in shock at the time…but I gratefully leaned down, detached a single arm from around him and grasped the baby's wrist, pulling it up. I clutched it to my chest, supporting myself on him with my remaining arm.

This man…this shadowed, blurry presence. How did he know so much? It was as if he knew my past, my present, and my future. Even as he adjusted me on his arm, I could feel my second son growing ever closer to my true position…that…unreadable thing following his every step. I wanted to rage, I wanted to SCREAM! But I pushed those feelings away. For once…it was simple. I felt…comforted…by this man's presence. I felt…safe. As if he were the key to everything. My instincts…rather than screaming that it was a trick, a ruse to lure me into a false sense of security, and then continue the mental and spiritual rape my father had started…they told me to trust him. And I did. We turned to the sudden golden light that had appeared over the area that was supposed to represent my swing.

"Well…here goes everything. Ready?"

I looked at her. She looked at me, smiled and nodded. Both of us were confident that whatever that light was, it would take us out of this place. I could feel it. Her emotions resonating with mine. She was happy…no, she was ecstatic. It almost seemed like her very being was radiating pure joy. And I wasn't about to let her down. We turned as one…and I took a single step, into the unknown.

The dreams didn't stop there either.

Every night that passed, ever since I was released from the continuing feedback loop that was my prison. Ever since my mind was finally let out of that horrible construct, though my body was still trapped within. Dreams would happen. Memories would play out. My mind connected with hundreds, no, thousands of others. But they all rejected me…even the ones who's minds seemed to resonate with mine…all except two. One, I knew was my second son. I had linked with him before, when he was a child…before my 'life' ended.

The other…was him.

He was the light within my darkness.

I was no fool though. My sanity had long since left me. But…yet…it had not. Deep within. Buried deeply under mountains of hatred, fear, loneliness and depression. Years and years of pain and suffering covered it…until I dreamt. He explained it to me once. During one of our meetings. When a person dreams, psychic or not, their mind usually…splits. Connected at the core, but separate from one another. The versions of us that were playing out the dream, being shadows of our true selves. Which is why the dream versions of us would know things, or be able to do things, that were important or allowed in that particular dream world.

He wasn't as easy as separating it between conscious mind and subconscious mind, because sometimes the dream mind would know things that even the subconscious mind didn't know…or like how he knows he had three recurring dreams all seamlessly fused into one long dream, ending with our original meeting, but doesn't know what happened. His true self doesn't know who I am, or what I've been through.

"I am me, and yet I am he. We are one, and what I know, in time, he will know, because I am him."

It was confusing. He laughed and said it was meant to be, but it made sense. The Alma that dreamed, and played and just spent time with him, was still part of Alma Wade, but was a fragment that could detach from the whole.

"The dream self is rarely the main self. Therefore, what the dream self learns or experiences, much of the time does not filter into the main self's knowledge. Sometimes the main self will be present for the dream self's actions, able to influence the dream and its events, or even sever the dream if danger is paramount. It seems to be on an instinctual basis though, since again, even if the main self is in the dream, riding backseat to the dream self, sometimes that knowledge of what happened seems to vanish. It's pretty random really…"

He said I was still real, and everything that was happening between us, was real as well.

"It's all because of your power really. I can tell you now, my real self is a damn good telepath, but his ability lies in his defenses, rather than his offenses. He can read minds, but not easily. Sure he can punch through, but it requires us to release a lot more of our full might than we want to...Our real skill, lies in protection. If someone were to manage breaking past our defenses, or at the very least wearing them down far enough, we let the attacker in…and then quietly seal their mind within our own. While they're snooping around our head, they are now on our turf, in our world. A world, where we are God. Usually we just knock them around a bit, and then kick them out, scaring them shitless and making our point never to do that again…but some telepaths are quite vicious…and they…well…"

He smiled grimly.

"While we can't liquefy a persons flesh the way you can…we have been able to take over their brain and force a command…like for the heart to over-tax itself and explode, or to stop entirely. Or for the eyes to suddenly stop working, or for the lungs to not be able to hold as much air. Or trick their mind into thinking that every three point five seconds that passes, the left-most pinky has to twitch."

He explained that telepaths always leave a trail whenever they enter someone else's mind, be it with or without permission.

"A link is created. A connection between minds. If the connection is unwilling, it tends to vanish as soon as the attacking mind leaves the victim, unless the attacking mind is aware of the connection, and plants an anchor point in the victim's mind, so the attacker can re-activate the connection at any given time. If the connection is willing, the link tends to stay around much longer, if not permanently, as sort of a background thing. It's like a more extreme version of the emotional bond between close friends and lovers. Unseen, and generally unfelt, but it's still there, a phantom string between souls."

It would seem, that when I 're-awoke' my mind reached out for any able minds around me. And that range increased as my second son got closer and closer to my prison. His, was one of the many minds affected by my 'psionic pulse' as he called it. But since his mind was a willing one, rather than be adversely affected by my telesthetic signature, he was simply drawn in, out of his own curiosity. But I couldn't be happier. Even if I didn't know it, I had a friend…and a teacher.

I hated having to hide my abilities. I don't know how I knew, but I knew that with my grades what they were, I'd have unwanted attention…but then, my attempts to hide my knowledge just made everything worse…

But even so…I knew our time together was coming to an end. My son was getting close…but he still continued to surprise me.

A different dream. One I hated even more than that city…because it wasn't so much a dream as it was a memory…

"Take her to the Vault."

My heart broke at those words. The stern unwavering look on my fathers face as the armored men grabbed me by the arms. I tried to struggle…but I was scared. My powers wouldn't surface…I loved him…

"Vault huh? That doesn't sound very fun."

I froze. THEY froze. This wasn't supposed to happen. This didn't happen. And yet it did. My mind cleared from the memory induced fear and sorrow. But even then, proving his theory correct, the dream seemed to adapt to the change.

"Who are you?! How did you get here?!"

"Me? I'm a friend of her's."

"Alma's- She has no friends!"

"Well…not that you know of. But I don't have time to bicker with an idiot. Let her go."

"No. She is a danger to us a-

I blinked the tears out of my eyes as I gasped. He'd changed. His very stance, his essence radiated hatred, anger…but it was contained, directed, all a the memory of my father. I waited. And waited. But…I didn't feel it. Not a single drop reached my heart.

"Finish that sentence. I dare you."

My father seized up. He'd moved like I do. He'd just…been next to the tree one moment, and pointing a blade at my father's throat the next. There was no sound…no distortion…nothing.

"As I said. Let her go."

And they did…only to grab their guns.

A single gesture…and the air rippled as…and I still don't believe it…but swords. Glowing blue swords, appeared and jammed their tips into the fronts of the armored men's weapons. The guns exploded in their hands…right next to me. But I saw a blur…everything distorted and I felt myself being lifted…as everything seemed to stop. And then I was next to the tree…him right in front of me.

"How did-

"You…are nothing more than a construct. A representation of Alma's fears, her memory of the day her father, her blood, sentenced her to a lifetime of imprisonment."

"How do-

"I know…because I have seen it. Our minds our linked on a level I've only seen a few times before. She wishes for her freedom…and while I can't give it to her in the physical world…"

He changed his stance, the grass beneath his feet whipping around in an invisible wind. I stood there, shocked at his knowledge, at the very feeling he gave off.

Power.

Power that rivaled even mine.

"I can sure as hell try to grant it to her here, in this land created by the link between our minds, the world made from our souls!"

A weird collection of triangles, arranged similarly to a hazard symbol appeared beneath his feet. He raised his right hand…and golden yellow lights seemed to form above it. They merged together into...

"A sword?!"

"This…is the power of one who can Comprehend. This…is Ragnarok."

The sword seemed to pull back, and then rocket down towards the two armored men. It sunk into the ground between them…and then exploded in a wave of golden light.

I was shocked. I've never seen something like that before…

The two men were hurtled in opposing directions. He opened his palms, both of them facing the flying bodies…and tendrils of black squirmed their way from ripples in mid air, wrapping the men up in cocoons of darkness. He flicked his fingers, as if tossing droplets of water from them after washing his hands, and small specks of silver white light surrounded the cocoons…and then crashed into them, detonating the strange black objects…and reducing the men inside to particles.

I gasped. When that happened, I felt something inside me shift, as if a weight had been lifted slightly.

He then turned to my father.

"And you…are the core. I know, this will not do much for her true self…but if I can relieve even a mere fragment of Alma's mind from the pressure, the darkness you represent…I will be happy."

"You know NOTHING!" The fake version of my father yelled out, his anger forcing me to cower behind my savior. A wall of inky black appeared around the man, surprising and scaring me…until a shining light appeared around his wrist.

"I know enough. It is you, the part of her that torments her soul, that knows nothing. In the physical realm, my power is limited to one thing…but here…in this realm of the mind…"

The light solidified into a glowing black band. Particles of light shot from its form and solidified into violet panels that resembled stained glass. It was beautiful…and I could tell it was quite deadly.

"I am GOD!"

The panels slid back at an angle, forming a cone shape with the tip pointing at the dome around the image of my father. Within the cone, hovering like an outline around his forearm, a red bracer formed, strange loops and curved writing on it. From the bracer, four long red objects, they looked like fan blades to me, appeared, rotating slowly.

Tendrils of black raced from the dome, heading right towards the two of us.

The blades reached forward slowly with each rotation, until finally they stopped. A glowing silver light had appeared in his hand, a similar light appearing at the tips of the blades…

And then it happened.

I felt a strange pressure build in my mind, almost as if it were asking for permission. I threw myself at it, crying 'yes!' over and over, begging it to relieve me of this horrible nightmare.

And as soon as I did…hundreds of rainbow colored arrow tipped tendrils of light screamed their way towards the representation of my father. They blocked the black worms heading out way, and pierced straight through the barrier of hatred that had appeared around him…connecting themselves straight into his 'flesh'.

A pained, fearful scream ripped from the construct's throat as a halo of light seemed to surround his body…before it shattered like glass.

And when it did…I felt free. I wasn't. I knew that. I could tell I was still in that damned bubble…and my true self still stuck in her haze of rage…but I was free.

The odd thing vanished from his arm, and he turned and smiled.

"Mission complete?"

My answer was to jump into his arms, crying happily. He slid down the trunk of the tree, and rested me into his lap. If anyone had been watching, it would seem a strange, and possibly suspicious sight. An older young man (and that is a compilation of words that completely contradict themselves, if I might say so) holding a crying little girl in his lap.

Hmm…maybe not so strange. He'd been a better father figure to me than my own after all.

"You know…this will most likely be our last meeting."

I nodded. Not trusting my voice.

"Not that it means our connection will fade…just…you're beginning to finally wake up."

"I know…I can feel my father getting close…his mind…is jumbled…but one thing is clear. He intends to release me finally."

"You're going to kill him though."

"I wish I wouldn't…well…I wish I wouldn't…I know why I am going to though. It's my instinct now."

"I can't blame you…even though I'd be the sort to trap his mind in an eternal loop of pain and suffering like he did yours…it's your call kit."

I just held him tighter.

"You know…you never told me your name."

He chuckled. "I guess I can. Even if you probably wont remember it."

"I'll remember."

It was at that moment…that I saw him clearly.

He was older, much older than I…but at the same time he looked young. I'd find out later that he was just out of his teens. Long stringy white hair flowed down his back. He'd tell me later on that it was due to stress that his hair had permanently changed that color. I thought it made him look regal. It seemed to make his light brown skin look darker though, more mysterious.

But it was his eyes. The most intense brown eyes I'd ever seen. I could get lost in his eyes…just…dream for days on end…staring at him. He told me they changed color…a side effect of his real ability. Red when he was angry, Silver when he was beyond Anger, or Joy.

He said the form I saw was a construct as well. Residual Self Image he called it, said he got the classification from a movie. His mind believes himself to appear that way in this world, so it does. He said he's not as muscular in the real world as he is here. Not scrawny either, but not as well built. He's close though.

Before I faded completely…I asked him one thing.

"How…did you do that?"

"Our minds are linked Alma. Even if my real self doesn't know you. This world, is our dream. Yours and mine. When we link, you send a pulse, which I resonate with. And because our minds are willingly connected, they work together to create a world we would both agree on. And since I am partially this world's creator, I can bend it as I see fit."

"Ok…but…what about the other part…the part where you basically took away…well…everything about me I hated."

"You wanted it gone. I wanted it gone. Our minds are linked so I can get into yours as you can mine. But you never really had the chance to practice proper defense, so you're always projecting. Which is why nobody could get near you without the proper equipment after a time. Those beings were representations of your fears, your lost love, and your pain. By destroying those constructs in this world, it sent back a message to your mind saying 'remove this fear. Remove this pain.' And while the real you no doubt still feels that fear, pain and betrayal, you are free from it…and I think that might actually be really useful."

"Why? How can you know?"

"Well…my outward telesthetic abilities are limited…but even before I was admitted into Wade Elementary, and underwent their lovely schooling, I'd occasionally see glimpses of the future in my dreams. The biggest visions would happen when I was wide awake…and generally were loose warnings of something to come, good or bad. A lot of telepaths start with premonitions like that, and then either it remains that power, or mutates into full telepathy, telekinesis or even empathy. You, Alma, were gifted, and cursed, with many many different abilities. You've got the three 'tele's' down. Telepathy, telekinesis, and teleportation. You've also got serious empathetic abilities, along with some skill in Pyrokinesis. You're a force to be reckoned with…but your father and his cohorts…being older, were completely blind to the fact that you had too much power at too young an age. So rather than finding a way to perhaps filter your powers in a manner that would let you adjust, they decided to seal you away and use you as a breeding tool for their stupid super soldier process."

I nodded.

"I honestly can't say when it changed…before, nobody had all sorts of powers like that. But then you were born…and it's as if you were the catalyst for all these people emerging with faint and growing abilities outside of 'usual' means. We haven't reached X-Men levels yet but damn, we're getting closer with each generation. But that's good…humanity needs something like this to stir shit up. That you had to suffer for it though…ugh…I hate that."

"But I have you now. I have a friend…I'm…happy…"

I was fading. I could feel myself waking from my once thought eternal slumber.

"And once your trials are complete…you'll have others. You're not alone Alma. Not now, not ever."

I felt myself smile. "Thank you…"

"…Zero. Zero Shinzaki. Well, Zero's my middle name, but I prefer that to my first."

"Alma…Alma Wade."

I felt him smile at me one last time…

"I promise you Alma…we'll meet again. Like Naminé said to Roxas, we may not recognize each other, but we'll meet again."

"I'll…hold…you…to…that…"

He stood. Her body had vanished in a swirl of multiple colored lights.

Blue for Intelligence…faint yellow for a returning Hope…a very faint white…meaning her Purity is returning to her. Black is strong in her though…I just hope her Desire doesn't cause problems for her in the end.

He placed his hand against the tree she had her swing attached to.

I think I'll take this with me. Give her an anchor point in my mind. It's simple…but she treasures it…and I shall as well.

Besides…there's a big empty space in the courtyard. Might as well put it there…

"My baby…"

My god I was trying to kill my son! I'm horrible! I'm a horrible horrible person!

It all makes sense now…this was a test…I know it…I know how those people think! A sick twisted test!

No! I was so close! I…maybe…maybe I should just…

No. We can't keep him safe if we're dead. We can't watch over him if we're dead.

I'm so tired…who'd have thought that after all this time sleeping…I'd want to sleep again…

We're falling. We have to go somewhere safe to rest. He's strong, he's smart…he's amazing. He can take care of himself. For now, we need to rest, to recover.

But where?! Every mind I meet I'm rejected! I can't even reach my own son!

There! That feeling…that mind is open to us! We can go there! That one doesn't reject our will!

It seems…unaware…

All the more perfect! We go now!

As Alma's emaciated, naked form fell from the crashing chopper, her body was surrounded by a distortion of light. With a loud tearing sound…she vanished.

My baby…please…please stay safe…

Greetings all. This is my first foray into the F.E.A.R. realm. Questions will be asked, only to be destroyed by answers. This fic began as a dream. yes, everything from the unknown Male's point of view was something i actually dreamt. well, up until the first "liberation" of alma's mind. I dreamt of Aristide, i dreamt of the failed clones, and i dreamt of the ruined city. from that dream came this fic idea. Within this story we will see Alma recover her humanity, her mind, and possibly her ability to love. She will learn, she will grow, and she will gain friends and family due to the actions of one person...a single unconscious action that changed everything. This fic, not only based on my dream, but also based on the notion: What if Alma's mind was reaching out to OTHERS?

And what if someone responded in kind? The single tiny change of Alma having someone to connect with, while she was still dead to the world in that bubble, sparks an entire shift of what is to come.

Join me on this ride. I assure you, you will have a blast.