Chapter One – Dreams

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"It's December 1st, approximately ten-thirty five at night. I just arrived at my hotel after visiting the home of the victim."

Tennyson's voice trailed off into the recorder as he slowly removed his coat, dropping it on to the baize bed. He walked around the room, his eyes moving over every corner and bit of space around him. The walls bumped out as they were made of logs, and a cabin-esc theme followed through out the lodging. The floor was wooden and slick, freshly washed and shined to perfection. Various pictures hung on the walls, all of which were typical paintings for the surrounding – one of a pair of deer in a forest, another of a sailboat floating along a calm lakeside, and the last a picture of a young boy chopping wood beside his father. A large deer head held against a mantle was positioned above the bed, which was decorated in pale white sheets and an off-green cotton blanket. A baize railing trailed around the front and end of the bed, and held it slightly above the floor. Tennyson breathed in, pausing as if he were collecting information from the air itself, and then finally exhaled. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and pulled the recorder back up a few inches from his lips.

"The victim has been taken to the hospital, where an autopsy will be performed. The apparent cause of death is murder, though how the murder was conducted – " he paused, swallowing a hard lump in his throat, "is unknown. The victim's body was found in her own home, in the middle of the living room, at approximately seven p.m. Her clothes were on her body, through it seems apparent they were taken off some time during the…attack, as her nightgown is placed on backwards and undergarments are not fully on."

He paused again, going back through the day in his own mind.

"The victim was discovered by her husband, named Vejita Briefs, who was in the house during the time of the attack. He was apparently sleeping, though how he could have slept through such a brutal attack is certainly disturbing. Especially if he were sleeping beside her that night…" Tennyson glanced out the window as the rainfall began to increase, causing the pine trees outside to sway and twitch in the most vicious manner, "The victim's husband seems to be quite hostile and angry, and especially defensive about himself, and his wife. While a certain level of this is expected, he seemed to be especially angry. This is a distinct factor in my mind. A few days from now, I intend on interviewing him, once all this calamity has settled."

Tennyson looked down at the ground, his eyes motioning back and forth as he collected his final thoughts. He sighed.

"On a personal note -- while I've experienced many murder's throughout my career in the bureau, something about this particular murder seems different. How, in a town like this, while sleeping in her own bed, next to her own husband, could a woman be so viciously killed and left dead in her own home? It seems like something much deeper and much darker is a work here, beneath this little town, and I'm set to find it out."

Tennyson sighed, and clicked the recorder off. He laid back in the bed, his head resting against the large feather pillow. He dropped his recorder onto the small shelf beside his bed, and reached for a cigarette and lighter. Flipping the light switch off, he pulled himself half under the covers and rested the cigarette between his lips. He lit it, taking a puff, and setting the lighter back in its original place. Puffing his cigarette in the dark, Tennyson watched the rain fall outside his window, and pondered the events of the day.

"Yes…something is definitely off in this town."

* * *

Through the sheets which choked and covered him in sweat, Vejita twisted and fought in his sleep. His dreams were unusually vivid and stirring, and every aspect slowly haunted him as he caught himself deeper and deeper in the abyss of his mind…

Vejita sat in a burgundy couch with his wrists bound together with twine which was wrapped so tightly together that his skin was beginning to bruise and cut, and his mouth gagged with a white towel. He looked around the room, set up like a game show stage, with its flashing lights and red-and-yellow walls. Two chairs, identical to the couch he was seated in, paralleled his own position. Sweat beaded down his forehead, not due to the fact that the room was terribly stuffy and warm, but rather on the fact that nervousness clawed at his mind. He was terrified beyond belief. At first, there was no one in the room. He was alone, though he could hear his own thoughts aloud in the room, as if it projected his thoughts into words to echo and haunt him. Then, suddenly, he heard a click, and someone entered.

Vejita's head jerked to the side as he watched two figures approach. His eyes widened as the shapes formed into familiar faces. ' Kakkarot ! And . . . B – Bulma?! ' Vejita thought, panicked, as the words echoed through the room. Tears swelled in his eyes, and Vejita felt so shocked that he barely noticed as they flowed heavily down his cheeks, soaking his gag. Goku and Bulma sat down into the chairs across from him. Goku sat with an erect back and stiffened posture, as if something was pulling him up, and had a small smile on his face; while Bulma, with her skin and lips in perfect pigmentation, sat with a slight slouch and a lopsided grin, as she appeared many times while with Vejita. His vision darted back and forth over them, barely able to comprehend the sight before him. The two simply stared at him for what seemed like hours, until finally Goku's lips moved.

" os atijev, evah uoy derugif tuo ruoy elttil yretsym tey?" he said, with a choppy and incomprehensible voice. Vejita raised an eyebrow, not understanding a word the taller saiyan had uttered. Goku lifted two figures before his lips and a cigarette materialized between his lips. It lit itself, with a quick blue flame, and Goku slowly sucked on it. He pulled it from his lips, and blew out a delicate twist of smoke, which spun in the air before him. He blinked, and looked questioningly at Vejita. Vejita's face contorted in extreme confusion, and he looked to Bulma. She her grin widened and the top sliver of her teeth were exposed as she met his gaze. His lip quivered under the gag as his thoughts finally collected themselves.

' Bul…Bulma? ', echoed his mind.

" No…not quite. I look like her though, don't you think?"

"Bulma" titled her head and ran two fingers through her shimmering blue locks. Vejita felt himself choking up at the sound of her voice.

' What do you mean? Aren't…You look exactly like…'

" atijev, ( Vejita )", Goku said softly. For some reason now, Vejita was aware of what he was saying. The thick air between them seemed to translate for him, " i wonk d'uoy eb detseretni ni eht sdrac i tnaw ot yal tuo rof uoy ( I know you'd be interested in the cards I want to lay out for you)." His backwards voice sent shivers through his flesh, as it seemed to stab through the air as a demonic force. Vejita swallowed hard, and tensed up as his felt his wrists begin to bleed. In his nervous state, he had inadvertently started rubbing them against the twine, and the grinding of the two forces tore away at his skin.

' What are you talking about? What's happening here?! ' His thoughts began to race and tumble as he soon felt a sting of anger course through him.

"Look through the glass and see her jewelry shine," whispered "Bulma", as she giggled, "it's not her favorite pair, though". And with that, she stood up and slowly left. Vejita eyes widened as she walked away. ' Come back!' Vejita's thoughts yelled, though this time not a single word echoed in the room. Goku watched his eyes, and smirked.

" eht sdrow ew tnaw ot erahs eht tsom oot netfo teg tsol ni ruo nwo seotorucesni, he?

( The words we want to share the most too often get lost in our own insecurities, eh?)" Goku said.

The words floated through Vejita's mind until his eyes snapped open and brought him back to reality. His chest heaved, as his breathing was heavy from the intense dream, and he felt clogged under the netting of sheets. He yanked the maze of cloth from himself, and shivered at the feeling of the cool night air against his bare skin. It crawled along his skin, turning his sweat ice cold, and leaving him in an uncomfortable state. He swallowed, and regained some posture as he pushed himself against the wall behind him. He looked at his wrists, and noted their clean, healthy state. It gave him a slight comfort, and reassured him that the dream was only a dream. Though, as he thought back on it, he couldn't shake the strange feelings which stirred beneath his skin. The memory of Bulma and Goku's strange manner only frightened him, and he turned his thoughts to something else. Slowly, he grew tired, and managed to fall back into sleep. He didn't dream the rest of the night.