Welcome back to the Whale Pit. I thank everyone for your reviews and for reading: XV-Dragon, Darev, Sportsman, Guardian of the Water, Lost Prince, Lily312, Invader Spyder, AJ, Starwin, Shocklance, DayDreamer9, CrowofDawn, Krystal of Nol, and Nerd4Eva. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart; please keep em coming.

I also thank Visigoth again for letting me bounce my ideas around and for talking me through some potential plot holes. Thank you so much, my dear friend.

Now, I have a warning for this chapter (would it be me otherwise?). Please read it and be aware.

WARNING: This chapter contains some disturbing material. It is not for children. Mind the rating, my friends.

Chapter 3

She was swimming in a nightmare. Helpless and cold, she was powerless to wake from her endless torment. Pain wracked every part of her delicate body, as she shook uncontrollably. Perhaps this was what it felt like to die.

Elyon's clouded head could not focus on any tangible thoughts for very long. She had fleeting visions of faces she thought she should know, places she thought she had seen. Where was she? What was happening to her? Her tormented mind struggled to find a way out of the abyss.

--

The door opened and the Lairs entered their house. A lamp on the end table glowed brightly, welcoming them home. On the couch, the Lairs' only daughter slept soundly, her History textbook lying unopened on the lamp-lit end table. In the near distance, the sounds of Chris' video game could be heard.

Tom Lair shook his head. "That girl," he growled angrily. "We ask her to do one thing, one thing, and she can't handle it. I swear, I oughta-"

"Tom," Anna stopped the big police sergeant mid-sentence.

With another growl, Mr. Lair turned down the hall towards his son's room. "I'll go put Chris to bed, seeing as our daughter can't seem to handle that little chore."

Anna nodded and picked up her daughter's History book. It looked like it had never been opened; and judging from Irma's grades, it quite possibly hadn't.

Chris' cries of protest came from the hallway as Tom shooed him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stood sentry over his son and hustled him off to bed as soon as his teeth were clean. Then he returned to the living room and gazed at his sleeping daughter.

"Something has to be done, Anna. She needs to learn responsibility."

"She's only fourteen, Tom. When we were her age, were we much different?"

"My father would have tanned my backside for something like this. That kind of a threat tends to force someone into action. So I don't know about you, but I would have made sure to get my little brother in bed when I was told."

Anna gently stroked her daughter's auburn hair. "I'm worried about her. She's becoming more and more withdrawn, it seems. Her grades are slipping, and she spends all of her time locked in her bedroom. Something's going on, Tom; I can feel it."

Tom Lair pondered his wife's words as he placed his chin in his hand. "Tomorrow is Saturday; we'll force it out of her then. Right now, let me get her up to bed."

The big sergeant scooped his daughter's limp form off the couch and carried her to the stairs. "She's gonna hear about this, Anna. She needs to learn. Our efforts to be gentle have yielded no results. Perhaps it's time to be a little more forceful."

"I'll not have you beating that child," Anna exclaimed in shock.

"I'm not talking about abusing her," Tom shot back. "But she needs to learn how to be responsible. All I'm saying is maybe-"

"I know what you're saying. Let's just be sure that's all you're saying."

Shaking his head, he proceeded up the stairs with his still-sleeping daughter.

Opening the bedroom door proved to be a bit challenging with his arms full of teenager, but Tom finally managed it.

The room was a mess.

Clothes strewn about the floor, CD's lying on the bed and the bed table. Tom sighed and began blazing a trail to the far end of the room. Finally arriving at his destination, he placed his daughter gently on her bed. Removing her shoes, he drew the blankets up to her chin and placed his hand on her forehead. She stirred slightly, but did not wake.

"What's the matter with you, girl?" Tom said to his sleeping daughter. "Is it your friends? Is it us? What has happened to you?"

His eyes flitted around the messy bedroom and a sudden thought struck him. Narrowing his eyes, he began to sort through the piles on the floor. He opened her bureau drawers and pawed through Irma's possessions. Next was her bed table, then her bathroom.

The bathtub was still filled with water.

With another sigh, the sergeant pulled the plug and watched as the water drained. What was he doing? His policeman's mind told him he was on the right track, but his father's mind told him it was impossible. Which one to listen to? Which one to obey?

Changes in attitude were a definite symptom, and yet being a teenager was also a good reason. Spending so much time in her bedroom would give her ample opportunity, but, again, being a teenager...

Tom stood up and made a difficult decision. He continued searching her room for the next half-hour, but did not find what he was looking for. Just as he was about to exit, Anna appeared in the doorway.

"I thought you were just putting Irma to bed," she whispered. "What's taking so long?"

"Anna," Tom began, closing the bedroom door behind him, "I think Irma may be hiding something from us. Something terrible."

Anna's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

Taking a deep breath, the policeman plunged right in. "I think our daughter may be using drugs."

For a moment, Mrs. Lair couldn't decide if her husband was kidding. When his grave expression didn't change, she decided he was dead serious.

"Come to bed, Tom. We'll talk about it in the morning."

"Anna, this is serious. What if I'm right?"

"And what if you're not? This could well be just normal teenage brain damage."

"You don't believe that..."

Mrs. Lair closed her eyes briefly. "You're right, I don't. I know something is wrong, but I don't think she's on drugs."

"Well I've spent the last half-hour tossing her room and didn't find anything. But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"You tossed her room?"

"I had to, Anna. What if-"

"Tom, that's a serious invasion of privacy! If she had woken up and found you searching her room, she would never have trusted us again!"

"She didn't wake up."

"But if she had-"

"If she had I would have confronted her tonight instead of tomorrow."

Anna shook her head. "You just don't understand. We can't give her any reason to distrust us; especially not now. If we ever want our daughter back-"

"Then we have to face and ask the hard questions, Anna. If she's using, then it needs to stop immediately. She needs help, and I'm not going to stand by and watch her kill herself!"

Anna placed her head in her hand. "Look, let's talk about it more in the morning. We're both tired and not thinking straight. Come to bed now."

Tom sighed and nodded. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he whispered.

"I know; and you won't be alone. I'm just as concerned as you are."

Anna gently kissed her husband and held his cheek for a brief second. Then, hand-in-hand, the couple retired to bed.

--

Irma's dreams were dark. Her mind was filled with horrible images of her friend being tortured horribly. Hay Lin was beaten mercilessly by Frost and Raythor, her agonized screams echoing cavernously. Miranda carved the flesh from her sister's bones, while Nerissa struck her again and again with deadly lightning. Hay Lin pleaded for help, begged for mercy...but all in vain.

Irma watched helplessly as her enemies tortured her dearest friend in front of her. She pleaded for them to stop, to take her instead, but the cruel Knights only laughed derisively.

Suddenly Irma was moving forward...moving to Hay Lin's side. The Water Witch became hopeful. Perhaps she could control the dream?

But that was not to be.

Instead of assisting Hay Lin, Irma slapped her sister hard across the cheek. The hurt and question in Hay Lin's eyes hurt Irma more than any of Nerissa's lightning bolts ever could. She slapped Hay Lin again, then punched her in the stomach.

"Irma...don't," the Air Guardian pleaded.

Irma only laughed. "You deserve this, Hay Lin. Always trying to get inside my head. This will teach you to mess with me."

The young Guardian grabbed Miranda's knife and plunged it deep into her former friend's chest. Hay Lin's horrified expression only made Irma laugh harder as she began to carve. In minutes, she had cut a hole in her sister's chest. Hay Lin's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she lost consciousness. That didn't stop Frost from reaching inside the Air Guardian's chest and pulling out...

In the dream, Irma screamed and screamed...but she was powerless to wake as the nightmare started over.

--

Morning dawned clear and bright, belying the horrific night Irma had experienced. As she finally woke, shaking, she noticed her body was covered in cold sweat. Breathing hard, she grabbed for her cell phone...but it wasn't there. She began to panic. She had to know if Hay Lin was alright.

Bolting out of bed, she ran for her bedroom door. She tripped on a large pile of clothing and fell hard to the floor. Ignoring the pain, she stumbled to her feet and began to move anew towards the door.

She fell again, as her head exploded with pain. The horrible images of the night before filled her mind. She grabbed her head in her hands and willed the evil nightmare to stop. Screaming loudly, she finally drove the scenes away.

She felt as if a heavy weight were lying on her back, as she struggled to rise. Crawling on her hands and knees, she collapsed to the floor and felt physically ill. As she struggled not to throw-up, she knew she wasn't going to make it to her bedroom door. She began to crawl towards the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet before regurgitating.

Just then her mother threw the door open and rushed into the bedroom. Irma had collapsed onto the floor next to the toilet, breathing hard and shaking all over.

"Tom, come quickly," Anna yelled.

Sergeant Lair rushed into the room and assessed the situation quickly. Racing to his daughter's side, he knelt quickly and placed a hand on her forehead.

"She's clammy and cold as death," he said gravely.

"I'm calling 911," Anna said as she rose to her feet.

"Wait," Tom advised. He leaned close to his daughter's ear.

"What did you take?" he asked.

Irma shook her head weakly. Tom shook the girl's shoulders. "Tell me what you took, young lady."

"N-nothing," Irma finally answered. "I-I didn't...I w-wouldn't..."

Tom growled and turned her to face him. Irma's glassy eyes tried to focus on her father.

"Tell me the truth. What did you take? I can't help you until you start being honest with me."

"Dad, please. I'm not on drugs...it was just a nightmare. A really bad nightmare."

"Tom, stop," Anna pleaded, grabbing her husband's beefy shoulders. "That's enough. She said she didn't take anything."

"I don't believe her," the sergeant replied, his eyes narrowing.

"I swear, Dad," Irma said, some of her strength returning. "I'm not on drugs. I just had a really bad nightmare...that's it."

"I still think we should call the doctor," Anna said, nervously.

Irma shook her head...and immediately wished she hadn't. "I'm fine, Mom. I swear, I'm fine."

"Tom, can you give us a moment please?"

Gently letting go of his stricken daughter, Tom rose to his full imposing height. "If I find out you've been lying to me..."

Irma swallowed but said nothing.

With a final glare, Tom Lair stomped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Irma breathed a sigh of relief. She had never seen her father so angry...or so distrustful.

"Do you want to talk about it, sweetie?"

Irma snapped back to reality. Talk about it? Hell no...how could she tell her mother she had helped to murder her best friend? She may as well spill the whole sordid story.

"No, Mom, I really don't," the girl answered. "I just want to forget all about it."

"Honey I can't help you if-"

"I don't need help; I just need to be left alone." Irma immediately regretted the tone in her voice. Her mother gazed at her through hurt eyes.

Irma closed her eyes briefly and pushed herself to her feet. She hugged her mother and held the embrace for a time.

"I'm really okay, Mom. I just need to sort some things out. Can't you and dad trust me on this? Please?"

Anna held her daughter as if clinging to a lifeline. She wanted desperately to help her oldest child, but knew she couldn't push her into allowing that help; especially if she didn't want it.

"Oh, sweetie, I do trust you. I know your father wants to, but you've been acting so strangely these past few weeks. You're always so upbeat and confident; but lately you've been so down and afraid of something. You're acting like a hermit. We can't help but be worried about you."

Irma nodded, her mother's embrace starting to calm her a little. She wished she could tell the woman everything about Nerissa, the Guardians, Candracar, everything. She wanted so badly for her mother to understand what was truly going on with her daughter.

But that could never be.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just have a lot of stress, and I need to be alone sometimes. Please don't freak out on me if I choose to handle things myself instead of always running to you and Dad."

Anna squeezed her daughter. "I don't know what's going on, but I can tell it's something big. I don't think you should try to handle it on your own, but I'll trust you and respect your privacy...for now. But if this gets much worse, your father and I will be taking a more active role in your life, believe me."

"Fair enough," Irma nodded as she broke the hug. He tried to smile reassuringly at her mother, but didn't think she quite pulled it off.

Anna Lair laid a hand on her child's cheek. Irma closed her eyes and reveled in that comforting touch.

"I imagine you'd like to take a bath now, yes?"

"How did you know?" Irma asked.

"Please," Anna grinned, "you've only been taking two baths a day for weeks. I'm not blind, you know."

Irma felt a little sheepish. "Guess it has been a little overkill."

Mrs. Lair shook her head. "If that's what makes you feel good, then go for it."

Mom has no idea, Irma thought. She nodded and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Mom."

Anna mussed her daughter's hair a little then turned and left the room.

As soon as the door clicked closed, Irma climbed, fully clothed, into the tub. She turned on the water and closed her eyes. This bath would help make the horrible images go away.

As the tub filled with water, Irma breathed deeply, and seemed to relax some. After a time she switched off the faucet, and lay in the warm water, breathing deeply, her eyes closed. Glorious water made everything seem better.

After several minutes of basking in the soothing liquid, she tried to contact Taranee.

Taranee, are you there?

For some time, Irma heard nothing. But then...

This had better be good to wake me up six in the morning on a Saturday.

It was 6:00? Oh hell...

I'm sorry, Taranee, but it's really important.

I can hear that in your mental voice, Irma. What's the matter?

I need to know if Hay Lin is alright. Can you please check in with her for me?

Okay, but why not just call her?

I can't find my cell phone.

Irma could practically hear Taranee slap her forehead.

Gimme a sec.

The Water Guardian waited impatiently for Taranee to come back and tell her everything was okay. Everything had to be okay.

After what seemed like hours, Taranee's familiar voice sounded in Irma's head.

Hay Lin is fine, Irma. She's helping Mrs. Lin prepare for today's yummy lunch specials. Her words, not mine.

Irma breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you, Taranee. I'll quit bothering you now.

Irma, stop that; you're not bothering me. What has you so spooked?

Who said I was spooked?

I'm a mind-reader, duh.

Stay outta my head, Taranee. I'm warning you.

Easy, Turbo, I'm not in your head. I can just hear the distress in your voice.

Irma regretted her tone with Taranee. I'm sorry, Taranee. I've just had my head messed with so much lately. I just don't want...I don't want...

I understand, Irma. It's okay. I wouldn't want me in my head, either.

Thanks.

Irma, can I ask you something without getting my head bit off?

Can't promise I won't bite your head off, but go ahead and shoot.

Taranee held her breath, but plunged on. Are you still having nightmares?

Irma wasn't prepared for that question. Weeks ago, on Candracar, she had told the whole gang she was completely back to normal. Now Taranee was essentially saying she didn't believe her. Taranee had good instincts.

The young Water Guardian wasn't sure she was prepared to admit her weakness, but she also knew Taranee wouldn't believe a lie. So Irma decided on a half-truth.

Sometimes...

There was silence for a time. Finally Taranee spoke.

Why didn't you tell us?

Because you all have bigger problems than worrying about a half-crazed teenager.

Irma-

No, Taranee, no more. I can handle myself; I don't need any help. It's not like I'm on drugs or anything.

Who said you're on drugs?

My dad thinks I'm taking something. He won't let it go.

It's that bad, huh?

No, it's not that bad. He's just being a normal brain-damaged parent. They have to do this kind of crap to their kids in order to feel fulfilled or something. I'm sure Chris will get the talk when he's older. I just wish they would leave me alone.

They're just worried about you.

I know, but what can I say? By the way, Mom, I was tortured for a week by an ugly bulbous-nosed fiend, and mind-raped by a wrinkled old bag? That'll go over big.

Irma you're still having trouble dealing with this. Let us help you.

Irma was tired of everyone treating her like a fragile, porcelain doll. Just leave me alone and let me handle things, alright? I'm tired of everyone walking on eggshells around me. I'm not having trouble dealing with this. It's something that happened, and yeah, sometimes it gets hard. But I'm not a freak, and I'm not that breakable. I survived everything Nerissa threw at me, and I'll survive the occasional nightmare. I'm sorry for waking you.

Irma, don't do this. Irma come back.

But Irma had cut the mental link. No matter how hard Taranee tried, her friend refused to answer.

Irma felt anger creeping into her mind. What right did Taranee have to judge her? What right did any of them have to judge her? She was tired of being treated like a freak at a carnival; something to be stared at and pitied. Well she didn't want their pity; she didn't want their stares. In fact she began to wonder what she was doing with them at all. Not a single one of them would miss her if she just left.

Thoughts of suicide entered her damaged mind. What would it be like to die? Just to cease to exist forever? How would her parents react? How would her friends react? Would Taranee feel her death? Would Hay Lin? Would Cornelia even care? Would Will? Beyond those few, no one would even give a damn if she were gone.

With these thoughts running through her mind, Irma slowly immersed her head in the water. Her element would take away the pain for a little while. Water would make everything better...for a little while.

And there we have it, Chapter 3. I hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you all for reading, and thank you again, Visigoth, for editing and for being my sounding board. Please leave a review if you should feel so inclined. Thanks.