Thank you to all the reviewers!

LazloTitan: It's in the future. Even sort of at the last part of this chapter...

Princess of Flames: Here's the update! XD

mataulvr: YAAAAAA! Torture! (smile) Imma not gonna answer that question tho, until I reveal... dun dun dun... THA TRUTH. Which will be soon. (And yes my life is based off a true story too.)

Thank you all for being so patient! Hope you like this chaaaapter!

Blumiere stared blankly into the distance. All was black and dark. He could barely see his own fingers when he put them in front of his face. And he was scared, which was saying something, since he'd lived in Castle Bleck for any number of years where it was always black and dark. He looked around again and again. Still nothing. Finally giving up, he sat down on the--black--floor. Blumiere prodded the floor, not expecting anything to happen. But something did. A pack of cards appeared on the floor--an unopened pack labeled in an odd language. Because he had nothing better really to do, Blumiere picked up the pack of cards and tore the sticker off that was keeping the pack closed. He idly started to pull out a card, but quite suddenly...

"OW!" Blumiere shouted, waving his hand and dropping the card to the ground. It looked like a plain old ordinary King of Clubs at first, but as Blumiere stared, the differences became apparent. First of all, the picture on the card didn't look anything like a king--it was a hand with an eye in the freakin' centre! And second of all, the sides of the cards were razor sharp. In fact, they more or less were razors. Blumiere growled. Again he was having a nightmare--and funnily enough, he could feel the cut from the card as if he was awake.

"Ehehehehehehe..."

...He heard laughing all around him, and he forced himself awake.

"Hey!"

The 7 foot tall, caped, nearly invisible person turned around, holding a pack of cards in his hand.

"What?"

"He said you have to go collect more from the dreamers who haven't lost them yet! Geez, did you really think you could get away with slacking? Besides, he damn well isn't in a good mood right now, so you'd better get to work. Or you know that he'll end up torturing you--and me for being the messenger."

The smile on the nearly invisible one's face grew wider.

Showtime.

Mimi sat, shaking slightly, in the kitchen. Her face was a paler green than normally, and she felt as if she was going to be sick. The nightmare she'd had the night before made her think that dreams were a lot more real than anyone thought. Because of this nightmare, she'd not bothered to comb her hair or even get changed for that matter. All night, someone had been whispering into her ear; whispering that she was not good enough, she was not beautiful, her skin was a horrible shade... all the degrading things that she could think of. She had whispered 'stop' at first, but finally she broke down. And the voice had told her that if she would only give away the energy that gave her good dreams (Mimi had no idea what the voice even meant), she could be beautiful. Mimi had awoken screaming and shaking in fear--she didn't understand why it had happened, and she was actually beginning to believe it.

Was she really that worthless...?

Please review! (Puss in Boots eyes)