Hellraising Dreamer

Chapter 2: The Special Box

Almadynis

AN: No beta. All mistakes are mine.


Kira bolted upright in her bed, breathing hard as her left hand wrapped around her freezing right shoulder. Her blue eyes were wide as she suddenly decided to fling back the covers, and madly dashed to the adjoining bathroom. She turned on the light, and peered closely at her burning right shoulder. "It's not possible…it was a dream…"

There, as plain as the daylight that was beginning to stream through the window slat blinds, were two small circles, white against her pink skin. He had very briefly touched her skin in her dream…and it had burned her in reality. She shivered, suddenly afraid. If dreams could hurt you…she didn't normally have nice dreams with kittens, rainbows, and boys. The one last night, while decidedly in the top five of weird, wasn't that unusual. The man…Gideon…was the most interesting aspect of it, he was new.

She had never seen him before. Like most dreams, hers were about things she had done, wanted to do, or wanted to forget. Most of the characters she came up with reminded her of people she knew, at least once awake. But Gideon…he was different. She couldn't think of anyone like him. And that place…she had seen Labyrinth as a child countless times, but this was like the Labyrinth's older, scarier cousin. It wasn't scary precisely, more mysterious, but it was scarier than Jareth's by far.

Her eyes strayed to the wooden box with gold inlay that, while she couldn't see it at that moment, she knew it lay under her bed. It was the only new thing in her life. So, if dreams were suddenly affecting reality, she could only think of that box as to the cause.

One week ago…

Kira always took the same route to school. It was normal, routine. So when something changed, she took notice. An oriental man was sitting at a small round table. She didn't see him originally, but his question was so unexpected that it made her pause.

"What's your pleasure?"

A wooden box with gold filigree was by the man's side resting on the table and her eyes immediately went to it. It was beautiful. Simplistic for an ornament, but the artistry in the inlay was magnificent. She smiled in pleasure and stepped closer to the box, and in consequence the man. "How much for the box?"

The man just looked at her and she sighed. If you had to ask either it wasn't for sale or the price was so high she had no hope to be able to pay. "Sorry to waste your time." And she walked away, going to school and forgetting about the man and the box.

On her way home, she noted that both the man and the box were no longer there.

Three days ago…

"What's your pleasure?" The oriental man was back. She gave him a "good morning" smile, but didn't stop this time, though her eyes didn't leave the box by his side until she was past the table. "Wait."

Kira paused, turned to look at him with a quizzical expression. He held out the box to her on the palm of his hand. She held his eyes, making sure it was alright, as she reached out to take it. As soon as her fingers brushed the surface, she cried out in pain and jerked back, cradling her hand to her chest. She looked down and could see white marks where her skin had come into contact. Her fingers had been burned by the coldness of the wooden box.

She looked up at the oriental man, who was gazing back at her in something like amazement. He slowly retracted the box, that she noted was not burning him in the slightest, and set it back on the table. He kept looking at her for a few moments, then, keeping his eyes on her, reached under the table into a small bag at his feet. She watched as his hand reached in and slowly pulled out…another box. Kira blinked at him in confusion when he held out this new box to her.

It was identical to the first. But as Kira looked more closely, she saw that this box was contained in what looked to be a glass box, neatly containing the first. She could still see the beautiful gold filigree inlay, but reaching out this time with her off hand just in case she was burned again, this one didn't reach her skin. So it couldn't burn her. She grinned in amazement as she studied the box, examining all six sides, all of which were different, with an artistic pleasure.

She was so engrossed with the box that she never noticed the oriental man walk away, taking the original box with him.

Two days ago…

"What have you got there, sis?" Her brother Thomas walked into the living room to find his kid sister on the couch studying a box and trying to sketch it. In his typical guy fashion, he reached out and took it, snatching it from her.

She knew better, knew it wouldn't help. So she didn't protest; only giving a long sigh. She knew what he would do. It had happened before.

Yesterday…

Cassie, Thomas' girlfriend came up to Kira in the lunchroom. The blond cheerleader to her jock brother held out the glass-encased box. Kira looked at the older girl in trepidation as she slowly reached out and took back her box. Cassie didn't say anything, how could a cheerleader deign to speak to one of Kira's ilk, and was walking away when Kira's question came to her.

"Why do you stay with him?"

Cassie didn't turn around, but her head did as she answered. "Habit."

Kira's estimation of the girl changed. At least the blond knew how much of a jerk Thomas was, and not blind to his machinations.

That night, Kira made sure to hide the glass-encased box where not even her mother would find it. Underneath the head of her bed wrapped in a clean comforter.

Present…

Kira watched in the mirror as the white circles slowly disappeared as her body heat worked to reverse the intense cold. She looked to where the box was still hidden, wondering at the odd coincidence of the burning cold she associated with that beautiful box.

She glanced at the clock, sighed, and got dressed. It was past time to start breakfast.


That night, the brunette girl held the glass-encased box in her hands, debating with herself on what to do. On one hand, she kind of wanted to see Gideon again, he was interesting. On the other hand, she didn't want to get burned again. If the box really was the reason she was dreaming so oddly, as well as the source of her cold-burn…then should she put it away, back to its hiding place? Or to a new spot that wasn't so near her bed?

As her father said, "Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern." Well, it hadn't happened been burned three times yet, and had only dreamed of Gideon once.

With a small amount of trepidation, Kira carefully placed the beautiful gold inlay box back into the comforter, and gently pushed it under the head of her bed. She clicked off the light and crawled into bed. She didn't fall asleep for over an hour, her mind in a whirl of thoughts.

It was about midnight when, all of a sudden, between one moment and the next, she was in the grey stone labyrinth again. The corridor was different. She didn't know how she could tell, but she somehow knew that this stone hallway was a different stone hallway than the one she had seen before.

She looked down at herself and noted that she was wearing her pajamas. "It's a dream." With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and pictured in her mind her favorite outfit: blue jeans, sneakers, and a purple t-shirt with a lily on the front. Opening her eyes she saw…her pajamas. She frowned in consternation at the stubborn clothes, before dismissing the idea for now. She would think about it more later, when she had time. For now, she wanted to find Gideon.

Peeking into the side rooms that lay every ten feet or so, she saw what she thought was a glutton, who was sitting at a dinner table chained in such a way that he couldn't reach the food, another narcissist that was screaming at the reflection of a hideously scarred version of her "real" face, and one man whose sins she couldn't readily identify.

This particular man was very ordinary looking, forgettable with plain brunette hair cut simply in plain clothes. He was sitting in the middle of an unadorned room, and she could see that he was handcuffed to the plain wooden chair at both wrists and ankles. He was facing away from her with the entire back wall, the one she could see almost completely, was as if it had a projection screen on it. It was the images displayed that was so confusing. Pictures of children laughing gaily, puppies barking happily, kittens cuddled sleeping with their mothers. All of the slides were innocent and very happy. Not what she would expect in this place.

"Do you like it?" She smiled at his voice, pleased that he had found her when apparently she could not navigate the labyrinth well enough to find him herself. His voice had not changed at all, still deep and resonating with authority.

Kira looked over at him, standing to her right in the exact same outfit that he had on the night before. He hadn't changed at all. Turning back to the man cuffed to the chair, she answered her mysterious dream-man. "Confused actually. It's very…different from all the other rooms. Is he afraid of this?"

Gideon, the Angel of Suffering, stepped close to her side, but with great care to not touch her at any point. He looked into the room in question. "Ah. Harold Frederick, whatever he thinks of, the opposite image appears on the screen."

She was still confused. "If what appears is small animals, children, and young women all happy…then he's thinking about hurting them? Is that it?" Kira peaked at the pale black-clad man with a small turn of her head, tilting at the same time to convey her continued bewilderment. He nodded, that very short and easy-to-miss nod you had to be looking for. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her since he had confirmed the room's occupant. "Why?"

Such an innocent question, and it gave him another insight into her character. She may be the most unique human he had met, but there were aspects of her that was so…simple. He answered her anyway. "He was a serial killer." Gideon watched as her face closed off slightly into a more scholarly interest. It was not as open. He didn't like it. "He came here to perfect his craft." Pure black eyes briefly flicked to the brunette male that was completely oblivious as to the onlookers. "He was unworthy of our instruction."

Kira turned away from the room, facing him completely with those blue eyes of hers. He didn't quite know why he liked looking at them, and at her, so much. Usually his pleasure did not come from simply looking at anything, let alone an unblooded, innocent, mortal girl-child. He watched as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth as if to say something before releasing the breath in a whoosh, closing her lips with a snap. They were nice lips. He wondered how they would look lightly coated in blood. His own blood perhaps.

"I want to try something."

He blinked at her. "Want". It was a word he was intimately aware of, knew deeply. Everyone in the Labyrinth wanted something. Whether they received it was part of his duty as the Favored Son and Keeper. An eternity he had been thus, and an eternity of experience let him watch her impassively, letting her tell him her desire.

That was another unique thing about the young mortal girl-child before him. He could not read her mind, her past, desires, memories, wishes, and prayers were not to be found. He had to use an eternity of training and observation to read her. Body language was his, nuances in her posture, facial expressions. The words she chose as she spoke, how she phrased things…all told a tale of Kira. It was not as efficient as telepathy, but the challenge presented he could not ignore. Perhaps his Father had decided to test his skills, though he doubted it. Father had not woken for a long time.

Her voice brought his attention to the present, and her, rather than his consternation at this new riddle. "I want you to touch me." He blinked again, longer this time. A sentence he had heard many times, but never in reference to him and never from such an innocent girl. How…odd. "Last time, when you touched my arm, it burned." His attention focused sharply. He did not like to cause pain by accident. Pain was a reward to be carefully and deliberately handed out. "I touched a box last week that burned like that." He knew she had to have a box to be in the Labyrinth, but why could she appear and vanish seemingly at will? No normal box could do that. There was only one, and that Configuration was not in Lamentation. It was very special. The chances that she had it were minute…but possible he had to admit.

"I want you to do it again, touch me I mean. My left arm, I think…I'm right handed." Her eyes were far away as her mind examined the problem and came to a solution. The way she thought was fascinating to him. There were not many people who were not afraid here, even fewer that were sane enough to think logically. She gave him a self-deprecating smile as she continued. "I don't have much of a pain tolerance." Really? How…delightful. The things he could show her, teach her. "So if I get burned again, I'll have to come up with a solution before I come back here. Covering all my exposed skin would just be irritating, not to mention hot after a while."

She looked up at him, her blue eyes piercing his with desire, want. She wanted something from him, and wanted it desperately. He suspected that her desire was strong enough to activate the box she had in her possession, even if she had not solved the puzzle. Intense yearning could open the portal to his world. It had happened before; it was not common but not uncommon either. It still did not explain how she could travel to and from his realm. Such intensity in her eyes. Such passion. What other passions could he coax out of her?

He might have the duty of running the Labyrinth, but that did not mean he did not like his work. Intensely. He had become the Favored Son by talent, not bloodline.

"So, will you?" His black eyes jumped to the hand she held out to him, palm up. Throughout her small speech, his facial expression had not changed, but she thought she had seen something in his eyes. She wasn't quite sure what it was, had never seen such a look before. Kira kept her hand out to him, so close that he wouldn't have to move very far at all to be able to touch her palm. But no farther. She did not want to force him into anything. That happened to her often enough to know the value of free will.

Kira didn't move as she watched him raise a hand, reaching toward her. Not even when she could see that he wasn't going to touch her hand and was aiming for something else. She didn't move, though her forehead did crease slightly in confusion as she watched that hand come toward her. Her eyes popped open in shock as that white-blue hand, pure black eyes catching every nuance of expression, inhaling sharply. The split second it took her brain to understand the gesture seemed to take forever before she hastily backed up several steps, holding the wall for support.

He had grabbed her boob!

The moments it took for her to speak again let him gauge her. Innocent, as expected. Delightful. Though it was interesting to note that she had not disappeared as before. Apparently shock had not triggered it last time as he had expected. Perhaps the burn she had mentioned was the culprit. He would have to be careful about that. He did not want her to leave.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" Her voice had risen sharply. His lips quirked minutely in amusement.

"You asked me to touch you."

"On my hand! I had it held out and everything!"

"I did not want to touch your hand."

That brought her up short, staring at him in open-mouthed shock. She just could not imagine why he would want to touch her breast. She only touched them to wash, why would he want to touch them? She took a breath, calming herself in a well-practiced manner. Blue eyes met black, "The point was to touch my skin. To see if it would burn. Remember?"

It was practically impossible to insult him. "My memory is perfect."

"If you didn't want to, you could have just said so. You didn't have to do…that."

Another small quirk of his lips. She had so much to learn. "I wanted to."

Kira again seemed to momentarily run out of words. She took another calming breath. "Will you please touch my hand." She asked evenly and politely.

"No." Even as her eyes were shutting down and he could smell the despair in her scent rise to blindingly intoxicating levels, he reached up and in one quick lightening move cupped her cheek.

Just as before, her eyes widened, she inhaled sharply in pain, and she disappeared with a puff of displaced air.

He stood staring at where she had vanished for many minutes, until her scent had completely dispersed and he could no longer smell even a hint of the innocent mortal girl-child's intoxicating scent. So much despair…so much desire…untouched innocence.

Delightful!


Kira bolted upright in bed, covers thrown to the side in one move as she practically ran to the bathroom. A white handprint lay on her cheek, cupping her face. She shivered from the intense cold, and the memory of him cupping her breast.

It was still dark outside, barely, as she dug out the box under her bed and shoved it into an old suitcase with her childhood nickname emblazed in stickers on the surface, wrapped in old outgrown favorite childhood clothes, and crept through the house to the garage. She didn't want anyone to see her, or her to disturb them. It didn't take long, she was used to such late-night wanderings.

The glass-encased beautiful gold inlay wooden box was hidden carefully in a dark corner, high above eye level flush with the far back wall behind bags of receipts kept for tax purposes, fishing poles, and tackle boxes.

Her last thoughts that night was a simple, "My pleasure can't be found in a box."


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