[Author's note: Short chapter this time. This was actually meant to be part of a bigger chapter but I feel like it's been too long since I posted last, and this is able to stand on it's own before the big action goes down. So enjoy and remember to review.]
They arrived through the gates of the glitzy and bustling studio and disembarked the trolley without the driver ever noticing they had stowed away. Along the way, Fear had briefed Sadness on the broad idea of his plan, but now that they where here, he was riddled with uncertainty on whether or not they'd be able to pull it off.
They raced to the nearest active soundstage. Inside actors and stagehands were scuttling around preparing for the next dream, paying no notice to the newcomers that had stepped in.
"Uh, ex…excuse me?" Fear tried to catch the attention of a passer by. The worker ignored his timid attempt and kept right on going. "Pardon us, we're here from Headquarters on important business…" He tried again on the next person, only to get the same response.
Sadness tried physically getting in someone's path while still asking as polite as possible, "Could you please direct us to someone in charge? This is rather urgent." The worker simply sidestepped around her with an annoyed grunt and without a second glance, returned to his business.
Desperation was now settling in; Fear could feel the urgency building inside him. They needed to get someone's attention. If no one was willing to help them, this plan would be an instant failure.
"Somebody listen to us!" The shout escaped him in a burst he was not expecting. Now every single soul on the large soundstage was looking directly at him and he instantly felt the urge to shrink away and hide. He felt Sadness take his hand and caress his fingers reassuringly.
"Go on." She encouraged.
He took an unsteady breath, gulped and spoke.
"We… are here from Headquarters on an important mission." He began, scanning the crowd with his eyes. Everyone was silently awaiting his message. He ignored the nervous fluttering in his stomach, squeezed Sadness's hand, knitted his brow and continued, doing his best to sound as confident as possible. "This memory," He gestured to the orb as Sadness lifted it up for all to see it. "has been causing Riley copious amounts of distress. As we speak, zombies, manifested in the Subconscious, are rampaging through Imagination land. We need a dream that will allow Riley to confront this fear of zombies once and for all."
There was a soft murmur among the crowd. For a moment Fear worried they all might start laughing at him, or worse, go back to ignoring him without a care for anything he said.
The dream director stepped forward, a disgruntled look on her face.
"We've already tried to give Riley dreams to get her over these zombies." She complained, "We put them in silly costumes, we put pumpkins on their head, we tried everything to make them seem less scary. We thought it was starting to work, but then the cops ordered us to stop."
"Well, we're ordering you to try again." Fear puffed out his chest and tried sounding authoritative. To his joy, it appeared to be working as the director turned back to her assistants and started to discuss the matter.
The soundstage doors burst open just then. Anger, Frank and Dave came rushing in, the latter two barking out orders.
"Everyone, evacuate the area! This is not a drill!"
Actors and crew shifted their attention to the yelling with curious and concerned stares.
"Move it people!" Anger shouted. "There's a horde of zombies headed this way. So if you don't want your flesh eaten, you'd better move your kiesters!"
A stagehand screamed and several mind workers took off running for the nearest exits. Even Rainbow Unicorn whinnied with fright and galloped off to lock herself in her trailer. With the numbers thinned, Anger could see Sadness and Fear standing amongst the remaining few.
"What are you two doing here?!" he asked with indignation. He pointed to the offending object in Sadness's hands. "Didn't I tell you to dump that memory? I thought we had a plan!"
They both recoiled and gave each other unsure glances, but Sadness stepped forward.
"We came up with a different plan." She started to explain, "The memory is reinforced, so we thought…"
"Who cares if it's reinforced?" Anger interrupted, "Since you didn't dump it, a zombie horde the size of Cincinnati is coming here right now!"
Fear cringed with a gasp. Sadness frowned.
"That is bad….But if we can give Riley a dream where she can get over her fear of zombies, the memory will lose its potency and the zombies will be easier to manage. When you think about it, it's actually more effective than just waiting for it to be forgotten."
"More effective?" Anger contested, offended that she was contradicting him again. "Throwing it in the dump at least guarantees that Riley will forget it eventually. Another bad dream doesn't guarantee squat!"
"But, isn't Riley getting over the memory better than just repressing it?" Sadness attempted to defend her argument, but weariness had crept into her voice, showing that Anger was beginning to wear her down.
"Not when brain-eating creeps are banging down your door. Now gimmie that." He grabbed the memory from her hands.
She slumped forward, defeat heavy in her tone, "I thought it would be good to at least try…"
Fear bit his lip, an ache of sympathy in his chest.
Anger turned for the doors, grumbling, "This sorry excuse for a studio's been doing Zombie dreams all week and Riley hasn't gotten over them yet. What makes you think you were going to do any better?"
From behind someone snatched the memory out from under his arm. Alarmed, he spun around to see Fear standing over him, a look of resolution on his face as he held the orb in his long fingers out of the shorter emotion's reach.
"You forget, I'm the expert on all things scary here. So, we are going to do better."
Anger blinked, doing a double take just to be sure what he was seeing was real. Fear was glowering down at him, with a real look of annoyance! The red emotion wasn't sure if he wanted to punch him for being insolent, or be proud that the beanpole was finally showing some spine. He'd have to decide later as his purple counterpart turned to address the remaining crowd.
"Everyone, time is of the essence! We need to work together now or all is lost." Some of the more panicked workers slowed down, then stopped to listen. A look of insecurity more expected of him washed over his face, but he pressed on. "I know this whole zombie thing has some of you scared. I know I am. But, this isn't about us. This is about Riley. We could run from the zombies, or hide, or try to forget about them, but if we don't face this problem it'll never really go away. If anyone still wants to get out of here before this place gets overrun, I won't shame you for leaving."
To his surprise, everyone remained where they stood. He smiled with genuine thankfulness.
"Okay, then, let's get to work." He gestured for everyone to huddle around him. "Alright, so making the zombies look less threatening didn't work. So we need to take out this fear at its root." He held out the memory so everyone could get a good look at it. Not much to it, other than the televised swarm of the undead lunging towards the audience. "So, what about the movie upset Riley the most?"
"The jump scares?" One stage hand offered.
"The gore?" Suggested an actor.
"The overreliance on Dutch Angles?" Asked the director.
"All good guesses." Fear answered. "But, the most terrifying part of this movie had to be the ending."
"You mean the most frustrating part." Anger corrected with a snort. "The heroes finally make it that little isolated island only to find out the zombies can get to them by walking along the ocean floor."
"He's right. There was no closure." Sadness said with revelation.
"Exactly! It left us hanging. We don't know if they survived or not! How could they do that to an audience?" Fear lamented.
"I get it, so we need to redo that ending so Riley can see the heroes kick some zombie butt and live happily ever after." Anger smirked, hand beneath his chin.
The director shrugged, "Yeah, I think we can manage something like that." The actors around her nodded in agreement.
Fear turned to the guards, "How much time do you think we have before they get here?"
Frank peered away from the door. "We have the rest of the patrol out there trying to slow them down, but they're coming on strong. I doubt you've got more than fifteen minutes, tops."
There was a moment of silence when everyone looked to one another uneasily, knowing they had little time to accomplish such an important task.
The director jumped to her feet, "You heard the guy, people." she ordered. "We need costumes, lighting, sets, pronto!" Everyone scattered about to get what they needed to satisfy her demands. She walked over to Fear and handed him her clip board. "You're in charge now, buddy. Tell us what we need to do."
Anger gave her a sly look and asked, "Hey, is cursing allowed in dreams?"
She frowned at him critically, "We like to keep things rated PG around here." He mumbled his disapproval as she left to attend to her crew.
Fear was frozen in place, the weight of his responsibility dawning on him. He looked down to see Sadness and Anger looking at him expectantly. He gave a nervous laugh and said,
"Well, I've always said that I could write a better nightmare than these guys."
Anger hopped into the director's chair and quickly made himself at home.
"And I've always wanted to direct."
[To Be Continued]