Author's note:

You thought it was an ordinary update; but it was I, D- oh. Sorry, wrong fandom.

All jokes aside though, I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and are enjoying the new year so far. I'm pleased to announce that I've finally started to power through my writer's block and a number of other nagging issues, and will now be starting to post again. Albeit probably at a reduced rate until I'm able to get past the current headache of an arc and back into the groove once again.

I had hoped to have the whole arc wrapped up by now, but given the topics I wanted to cover and my reluctance to cut too much from Ellen's psychological journey without impacting quality, things didn't exactly go to plan. As a result, the chapter ended up overrunning far more than I anticipated, and kind of feels like filler to a degree. But fingers crossed you'll enjoy it for what it is, and that the next chapter will finally bring closure to this arc so that the plot can forge ahead.

I'm always trying to improve as a writer, so please read and review. Constructive criticism is welcome, flamers are not. If you enjoy this story, please feel free to check out the other stories on my account should you wish.

- RevenantReaper337

Disclaimer:

Ratchet & Clank, associated characters, organisations, and intellectual properties belong to Insomniac Games. All other real world organisations and products belong to their respective governments, companies, etc. Original characters, creatures, weapons, etc. belong to me. Cover art belongs to Nekolover3 and is used with her kind permission.

'Thoughts'

Flashbacks

"Speech"

Chapter 44:

Shattered Dreams

Slim Cognito's Ship Shack, [Location Redacted]

Bogon Galaxy

G2.17.098 Galactic calendar

8:41am GST

Twelve days.

It had been twelve whole days since their desperate flight from Snivelak; since Ellen had had entered a comatose state and been miraculously healed by the mysterious, strange old man Ratchet had dug up from who knows where. Yet still she laid on a simple cot, unconscious and unresponsive to outside stimuli, in the deepest bowels of a black market arms dealer's secret base. One whom Samus still didn't entirely trust, despite his relatively friendly manner with her other companions, but tolerated nevertheless since he was both their host and sole benefactor in the galaxy right now. Supplying their ragtag group with the necessary weapons, intelligence, and general supplies they so desperately need to stop the Protopet menace before it was too late.

But while a portion of her processing power was still running over her suspicions on the shadowy merchant's true motives for assisting them so greatly, Samus was much more worried about the redheaded girl who had become her first, and best, non-robotic friend. For while they hadn't known each other for very long, and despite her almost universally negative experience with organics in general, given the way they tended to treat her kind, Ellen was something of a revelation for the little ex-infobot. Having been used to being downtrodden for so long, and generally looked down upon by all corners of society simply for existing, that she had almost forgotten what it was like to be seen as anything other than a 'mistake'.

But Ellen was different, and had been from the very moment they had first met; even if it was at gunpoint and perhaps not under the best of circumstances. The human quickly proving herself to be a strange and oftentimes perplexing study in contrasts that Samus found difficult to fully grasp. She was kind, gentle, and dry witted in equal measure; fiercely protective of those closest to her heart, and terrifyingly effective against those who opposed her. But perhaps above all else, Ellen Pearce simply treated her as an equal, sapient being regardless of her lineage, and not as a piece of equipment that had 'gotten above its station', like so many detractors claimed of her kind. Including other robots upon occasion, much to her disgust.

Clank had been both her inspiration and reason for coming to the Bogon galaxy in the first place; his plights and deeds during the Solana crisis giving her hope that she too could rise above her programming, and the courage to actually do something about it. A notion that only continued to grow once she had finally managed to track him down in person, along with the budding roots of something deeper at the human female's encouragement. But it was Ellen that had been the first to offer her true friendship and a sense of purpose in life beyond a middling job as a non-entity data clerk, and for that, Samus would do whatever it took to pay her back in kind.

Which was why, perhaps unsurprisingly, the little robot continued to grow ever more anxious as the days began to roll into weeks with little obvious progress in Ellen's condition. Fear soon giving way to self loathing and frustration at her lack of ability to actually do anything about her friend's condition, other than to continue fretting over the redhead's decidedly pale and almost lifeless form. Her optics dimmed and mournful as she gently mopped at the redhead's brow with a damp compress, while her other servo brushed aside an errant lock of unruly hair. Not even her abject fascination with the silky strands able to provide much more than a passing distraction from the overwhelming cloud of depression hanging over her.

The others at least had their own assigned tasks and goals to distract them. Ratchet and Cash spending most of their time dashing off to suspected Protopet production and storage sites at Angela's direction whenever a new location was discovered, such as the one they were investigating right now. The pair having already shut down two such compounds between them in the past week alone, while a third turned out to be little more than a crate factory and almost led to an ambush now that Megacorp was finally wising up to their tactics.

Clank on the other hand opted to assist wherever he was needed most onboard the concealed space station, and at least managed to keep Samus company for short periods between his own work when he wasn't otherwise busy supporting the strike team. While the illusive Slim Cognito worked his numerous contacts and played at being an information broker; sifting through a sea of data and putting together any new scraps of intelligence that could be used to help plan out their next move. Which left only herself, now that the new age mystic had long since disappeared back to wherever he had come from, and a self-imposed duty that-

"Hey. How's it going?"

The quiet, weary tone and slight shift in weight on the edge of Ellen's cot announced the by now familiar presence of Angela coming to check up on their mutual patient. The dishevelled-looking lombax clearly having pulled yet another all-nighter, given the bags beneath her tired eyes, matted fur, and lukewarm cup of coffee clutched in one hand. The latter of which made Samus frown at the woman's continued insistence on substituting caffeine for sleep yet again, despite already being dead on her feet . But then again, they were all feeling run ragged after everything that had happened these last few weeks, and she was hardly in a position to criticise the older lombax given her own restless disposition.

Welcoming the distraction for what it was, Samus shrugged limply in answer. Still no change, I'm afraid. She's barely even moved since..._

"Since the crazy old guy left. Yeah, I know," Angela sighed while running clawed fingers through a tangled and unruly mane. A tired smile tugging at her lips as she gazed down at the thoroughly miserable former infobot. "But I meant how you're holding up. I mean, I don't think you've left her side in days, and anyone with more than three brain cells can see this whole thing's getting you down."

I..._ Samus hesitated, tiny fists clenching as she tried to form a reply. I volunteered for this; swore I'd do whatever it took to help bring Ellen back. But I just feel so... so... useless! What can I even do that 'he' hasn't already?!_

Her gaze turned towards the slender purple crystal dangling from a simple silver chain around Ellen's neck, with Angela following suit. Its shape tapered to a rough point, with numerous, intricately carved and entirely incomprehensible symbols carved along the front most 'face' that pulsed faintly at regular intervals. A final cryptic gift from the equally strange old man before his timely departure well over a week ago; the true purpose of which was still a mystery to them even now as it was back then. What exactly was 'a balm for the soul' supposed to mean anyway?

"You can say that again," Angela muttered, snorting mirthlessly before continuing. "All my hard work, and he just waltzes in and 'magic's' everything better. How can anyone compete with that?"

She still couldn't make sense of what exactly had happened that day, and how some chanting, crystals and chalk could accomplish a difficult medical procedure without any visible technology. Nor could she make sense of the crafted talisman he had left in their care, or how it seemed to both prevent muscular atrophy from being bedridden and provide Ellen's body with enough nutrients to negate the use of a drip feed. But given that it did work and that there were no obvious side effects from the treatment, Angela was more than willing it slide for now. But the scientist in her wouldn't let a phenomena like this go so easily, and once this whole Protopet crisis was over, Angela had every intention of finding a logical and conclusive explanation.

For now though she had a more immediate problem to solve, and a... tentative friend to comfort in her hour of need. The little robot having slowly grown on her over these trying days, and proving herself to be perhaps the most stable among their number. Not that it was much of a competition, given the general insanity and tendency for things to explode around the strange and motley crew she had somehow become a part of along the way.

"To be brutally honest, there isn't really anything you can do for Ellen. Or at least not physically anyway." Seeing the subtle slump in Samus' shoulders, Angela quickly pushed on with a weary shake of her head. "Best I can tell, whatever the old man did made her as healthy as anyone can be for someone of her species. But mentally? Well... I think she's going to need a friend, when she wakes up eventually. Somebody to be there for her and just... listen, you know?"

Nodding slowly, a sense of quiet determination slowly beginning to fill otherwise dull optics as Samus finally responded several long moments later. Her words carefully chosen and with conviction in every syllable. I do, and I want to be that friend for her. But the sheer number of episodes she's been having and how frequent they are... I'm not sure if I can even cope, or what I can do to help her get over it all._

"Well, its not like you'll be doing it alone," Angela reassured her with a faint smile and gentle pat on the shoulder, making the little robot perk up slightly at the unfamiliar contact. "I mean, you've still got me, and I'm hardly going to leave you to deal with any trauma on your own. Not to mention Ratchet and the others when they finally get back."

Y-you mean...?_

"Yeah, yeah. I'll stay and keep you company until Ratchet and the others get back," the older lombax replied with a gentle, teasing tone. Chuckling lightly at the wide, hopeful optics and open relief etched upon Samus' face, along with the subsequent tackling hug.

Thank you._

"You're... welcome..." Angela managed to squeeze out between trying to pry sharp metal digits out of her rib cage. Samus proving to be both deceptively strong in spite of her dainty, delicate appearance, and having the determination to cling on like some form of high tech limpet. "And besides, who knows? With both of us watching over her, maybe Ellen'll have more pleasant dreams for once."

Before Samus could reply however, the exaggerated clearing of his throat and by now familiar, shrouded form on a nearby screen announced the presence of Slim cognito. The shape of his barely visible eyes giving the impression of a raised brow as he spoke with a dry, amused tone. "I hope I'm not... interrupting anything important."

"Important enough not to go running off on one of your ridiculous errands, Cognito. I know that much," Angela growled out with a slight flexing of her claws in irritation. "I swear, if you called me because your silage tanks have burst again-"

"Actually, I need you down in the hanger," he continued. Being long used to the lombax's frequent temper and entirely unfazed by the violent undercurrent in her tone by now. "We have an incoming guest, and can't be there to greet them in person."

That got her attention, and made Samus more than a little worried as Angela quickly checked over her holstered sidearm and the few homebrew grenades she kept close out of a long ingrained sense of paranoia. "Trouble?"

"Not... as such," Slim allowed hesitantly and with a slight shift of his eyes to something off screen, "but somebody I'm hoping will prove to be an asset for your fight against Megacorp. Somebody you can trust."

Exchanging a glance of confusion, both lombax and robot turned back to face the screen as one. Although it was Angela who voiced their otherwise unspoken question. "Like who?"

{()}

Three separate sets of footsteps echoed unnaturally loud throughout the nightmarish landscape of twisted memories, carried as it was by a low, howling gust of wind. A distinct sense of tension and unease settling over the mismatched group as they finally neared their intended destination, expecting an attack at any moment. Save for the strange old man accompanying them that is, who looked for all the world as if he were out on an evening stroll. But then again, that was pretty much par for the course by now in their travels so far.

"Looks clear," Simon muttered softly, just barely loud enough for Ellen to hear. Having stopped to cautiously observe the strangely withered shrubbery and flowerbeds flanking the short path ahead, while keeping his L85 pointed steadily at the darkened glass doors leading into what passed for the school's reception area. "No signs of any movement, or anything else."

"But you think someone's watching us anyway," she whispered back. Her eyes nervously darting over the building's exterior and sense of paranoia growing by the second.

Given her previous experience, it was little surprise really. After all, Ellen was no stranger to being ambushed, and the tingling sensation running down her spine only added to her gut feeling that they were about to walk right into a trap. Something that wasn't exactly helped by the eerily atmosphere around the warped representation of her old primary school as they gradually closed in, and the distinct lack of any further, obvious opposition since Simon and the old man had rescued her. Nor was the mystic's sudden response as he took a few lazy strides forth past their position before freezing in place; motionless as his gleaming orange eyes focused upon a particular spot of brick wall off to their immediate left.

"We are not alone here... I sense dark and powerful chi nearby."

Which, right on cue, is when everything went to hell. The wall in question simply exploding outwards without warning and sending a mass of dark hued masonry scything forth in a lethal hail, threatening to cut the old man down where he stood had he not suddenly moved in the blink of an eye. His surprisingly spry, robed form practically a blur as he swiftly leapt aside with an arcing, graceful motion and perfectly executed somersault; giving Simon a clear line of sight as he instinctively opened up on the hulking, misshapen form which came stomping through the resulting dust cloud with rapid stabs of the trigger.

Unarmed and outclassed as she was, Ellen could only seek to gain some distance and calm her suddenly pounding heart as she tried to find some means of defending herself. A brief frantic, search revealing little more than monochrome grass and debris in the surrounding area, before quickly being abandoned as a bellowing roar echoed from within the newly revealed hole in the wall. Her breath hitching and eyes widening as the redhead caught her first glimpse of what lay within. "Oh, fudge me..."

Whatever it was, the looming, grotesque thing currently barging it's way through the remains of the wall was definitely big, and exceptionally angry. Its hunched, bipedal form almost resembling an exaggerated, cartoonish version of a great ape, given the over-sized upper body that was almost bent double and comparatively tiny hind legs, while equally massive fists dragging in the dirt on wide, prominent knuckles. A row of jagged, spiked quills protruded from either shoulders and seemed to run down its spine, while obvious tufts of pitch black hair protruded from its frame in an almost patchwork fashion around thick plates of malformed, overlapping chitin that seemed to grow all over its body.

But what disturbed Ellen the most, once the dust finally settled and she was finally able to see its true form, was the creature's face. Or rather a distinct lack there of, given that all she could make out was a pair of baleful, crimson glowing orbs beneath an armoured brow; ignoring the bullets ineffectually pinging off of its hide and almost seeming to stare directly into her soul with a look that promised only death to whomever caught its gaze. Her stupor only broken as a spittle-laced roar issued forth from a previously unseen vertical slit in its otherwise featureless face; one filled with far too many teeth and barbed tongues for comfort, and rapidly getting closer as the walking nightmare thundered towards her with a loping gait.

Panicked, Ellen tried to flee back the way she came before the beast could reduce her to a bloody pulp; a scream tearing its way from her throat as it ignored the hail of Simon's bullets pinging off of its armoured hide and bore down on her. His fearful shouts quickly drowned out by its guttural snarl, and the rushing wind from a massive fist descending upon her wide-eyed form with frightening speed. Leaving Ellen no time to so much as blink as it turned her into little more than a greasy smear in this nightmare landscape, and stole away any chance she had of ever seeing the waking world again.

Or so it would have, had something not intervened. A blur of movement, an overwhelming shockwave of force that sent her tumbling for several feet into a withered bush, and a dazed Ellen found herself being pulled unsteadily to her feet by Simon's firm, gloved hands. "Ellen! Ellen, come on!"

"Wh..." she groaned, her free hand settling against her rattled skull. "What...happened?"

"He did," Simon replied tersely, gesturing briefly over his shoulder while trying to drag her away. "Now come on. We need to move, right now."

Staggering to one side as she tried to regain her bearings, Ellen's eyes widened as she finally saw what he meant; an involuntary gasp escaping her lips as she stared at the impossible sight before her. For where she once stood was the implacable figure of the strange, old mystic; the hulking creature's equally massive fist halted by the outstretched palm of one hand and a roiling force of air between them. His expression calm yet determined, even as his body shook from the sheer amount of kinetic energy he was somehow holding back, and which was causing the very ground to crack beneath his sandaled feet.

"Holy shit," she whispered with awe, "he really is a Jedi..."

The raging beast spat and snarled at the old man with unrestrained violence, its lashing tongues and gnashing teeth craving for the taste of his blood. Yet despite the threat staring him directly in the face, the old man ignored it in favour of turning a serene smile towards the two reunited siblings. His eyes boring deeply into Ellen's own, even as his other hand shot out to catch a second fist with shaking muscles and a booming impact that was felt as much as heard.

"Go now, child," he spoke, as if the multi-ton monstrosity bearing down on him were little more than an inconvenience, as opposed to something that was gradually starting to overpower him. "This path is not yours to walk."

"What? No!" Ellen blurted out in dawning horror. "We're not leaving you with that thing! Simon, tell him!"

"I can't even scratch the bastard," Simon admitted with bitterness colouring his tone. "Much as I hate to say it, our best bet is to run while we've still got a chance, and the old man's our only chance of keeping that thing tied up."

Logically, she knew he was right, and that the crazy old man was capable of some serious bullshit level of hax. But emotions tend to overrule at the best of times, and Ellen was damned if she was going to let somebody sacrifice themselves for her sake. Especially when it was somebody she was starting to consider a friend of sorts, and whom had quite literally saved her life.

"I don't care!" she snapped with rising anger at her helplessness to do anything about the situation. "We are not leaving him behind!"

A slight chuckle quickly drew her attention back towards the struggling mystic, and the amused twinkle in his eye. "Do not fear for me, child, for I am far from helpless."

He grunted slightly as muscles pulled taut beneath the robes draped over his elderly frame; redoubling his efforts against the still slathering creature trying to flatten him into the ground and slowly starting to push it back. Ellen and Simon both watching in astonishment as his much larger foe was gradually lifted off of the ground and above the old man's head, kicking and struggling in desperation all the while, before finally being thrown back towards the playing fields with enough force to cause a sonic boom. Fracturing or otherwise outright shattering glass in any nearby windows and the reception area's front doors, and leaving a wide trench in its wake that left their jaws hanging at the sheer amount of raw power they had just witnessed.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph..." Simon whispered in shocked awe. "That's some Super Saiyan level shite right there."

"You're telling me," Ellen shot back with an incredulous expression, her eyes wide as saucers. "How can he even..."

Before either could even begin to come to terms with what they had just witnessed however, the old man's slightly fatigued form abruptly straightened and settled into a combat stance. His back towards them and hand reaching into his robes as he stared unflinchingly at the distant cloud of dust billowing up from where the massive creature had finally fallen still. "Such dark and powerful chi is not so easily defeated. Go now, child. While there is still time."

"But..." Ellen protested weakly, only to trail off weakly as Simon's hand grasped her shoulder and began to steer them away. A distant roar encouraging him to pick up the pace.

"He's right, Red. We need to get in there right now before tall, dark, and ugly turns up again, and he's the only one here that can stop it."

Sighing, she finally relented and let him lead her towards the reception area's cracked glass front doors. Neither trusting the nightmare creature's improvised entrance one bit, given what could be lurking within the darkened interior. "I know... But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Aye, but he's a hard bastard," Simon shot back with a wry grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Trust me, he'll be a lot better off than we would."

Another, much closer and much angrier roar had Ellen's head whipping back towards the old man just as they reached their destination; a spike of fear lancing through her already unsteady nerves upon seeing the now severely pissed off rage beast hurtling back towards them at astonishing speed for something so large. Her feet moving automatically as Simon ushered her inside the broken doors and the darkened lobby within, while not being entirely surprised by this point at the silver cylinder the mystic drew from his robes in one fluid motion, before causing a green beam of light to flare into life along one side with a dangerous thrum. Because waking nightmare world or not, why wouldn't the man who was practically a Jedi in all but name have a freaking lightsaber?

Ellen's last sight was of the old man leaping forth to meet the creature's charge with his lightsaber singing through the air, an almost living wave of darkness surging forth from the breached wall with a deafening shriek, before Simon slammed the door firmly shut. The battle becoming little more than distorted light and sound through a kaleidoscope of fractured glass, and further compounded by the constant pounding of her heart. Her wide, unblinking stare enraptured by what little she could see, until the sudden scraping of metal across a polished tile floor quickly drew her attention towards Simon, and the padded bench he was dragging towards the entrance with a small grunt of effort.

Shaking off her stupor, Ellen quickly made her way to his side, and the pair of them soon dragged a second bench into place. A few loose chairs and lighter furniture soon joined the pile, forming a makeshift barricade against whatever lay outside, for what little good it would do, and giving them a little breathing space to check their new surroundings.

The school's reception was almost exactly like Ellen remembered from so long ago; minimalist, relatively cramped, and dominated by the huge, vaguely U-shaped desk that occupied the centre, where old Mrs Donnelly used to sit with a perpetually narrow-eyed glare. A small, round table with a decorative vase full of slowly dying flowers occupying one corner, while various notice boards, carpeted with numerous posters and announcements, occupied almost the entire left wall above where a row of benches had been before being repurposed. Beyond which lay a plain wooden door leading into what she thought had been the staff room, and of course the safety glass-lined double doors leading into the school proper.

Unlike Ellen's memories however, the reception area was completely devoid of life and had an oppressive, almost clinging miasma blanketing the room that sent shivers up her spine. The constant impression of being watched not helping her growing sense of paranoia one bit, and neither was the flickering shadows darting around at the edge of her vision, accompanied as they were by barely audible whispers in the still air. The redhead's pulse quickening further as she slowly backed towards the perceived safety of her brother, all while trying to keep the entire room within sight and dearly wishing they had more than just a single bullpup rifle between them.

"Simon?"

"Aye, I know," he murmured in return. Eyes constantly scanning their surroundings and finger tightening on the trigger, while his off hand went through the motions of mounting his rifle's bayonet. "Let's keep moving. Just stick close to me, call out anything you see, and we'll get through this, one step at a time. Alright?"

Nodding wordlessly, Ellen followed close behind as her brother cautiously advanced with his weapon sighted on the double doors and pushed up against one side. A gloved hand slowly easing the door nearest him open but a fraction, before Simon cautiously entered with his bullpup's barrel leading the way into the murky depths of the corridor beyond. What should have been a relatively short and direct route through the school interior suddenly stretching out almost to the horizon, while the distinct lack of illumination bar a few flickering ceiling lights only added to the sense of foreboding. Indistinct, distant whispers drawing nearer still with each step, along with the ever present, clinging miasma of malice that coiled ever tighter around Ellen's heart.

"This is all wrong," she whispered, just loud enough for Simon to hear. The hairs standing up on the back of her neck and eyes never ceasing to dart from one side of the widened corridor to another with a growing sense of paranoia. "We should have reached the end by now, and I swear we already passed that door a few minutes ago."

In fact, going by the numbered classroom doors that lined either side, they may well have already negotiated its supposed length three times over; almost as if the same stretch of corridor were looping back upon itself without end. Attempting to backtrack soon proved to be just as fruitless, and yielded little more than the same, empty passageway with no sign of the double doors through which they had entered in the first place whatsoever. It was obvious that someone, or something, was trying to isolate them, and if the lengthening shadows creeping form from the impenetrable darkness at either end, along with what looked like a growing number of glowing red eyes were anything to go by, then it definitely wasn't for their best interests.

"Then maybe we should try one, before they get any ideas," Simon murmured back. Keeping an eye on the encroaching tide all the while as he stepped over to the nearest door and attempted to shoulder it open. "It's stuck. Come on, give me a hand."

Scrambling to his side, Ellen added her own weight to the surprisingly unyielding door, and between them they managed to grind it open against whatever force held it in place as the black tide suddenly burst forth in a blinding rush of speed. The pair slipping inside just before it could consume them both and slamming the door shut with an echoing thud in the otherwise silent room beyond, which for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a perfectly ordinary classroom in full swing. Teacher behind their desk, whiteboard on the wall, and students sat in neatly rows while dull light streamed in from pseudo Georgian style windows on the opposite wall. Ellen even thought she recognised some of their faces in the vaguest sense, but couldn't give any of them a name.

The problem, as with everything in this twisted, nightmarish mindscape, is that it was all so very, very wrong.

Everything, from the furniture to the walls, floor and ceiling were covered in choking ridged vines and pustulous black growths that shimmered as if covered in oil slick. Some of which even now began to swell and burst apart like rotten fruit; depositing puddles of equally dark and disturbing, gelatinous ooze on to the floor, which promptly began to rise up and slowly began to reshape themselves into vaguely humanoid shapes with a wet schlorping sound. Ellen nearly retching in disgust as she backed up against the door in horror, while Simon snapped his rifle up towards the nearest abomination and pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession before quickly shifting to another.

To make matters worse, the students and staff present clearly weren't human either, given the way their skin cracked and sloughed apart like so much faded chips of paint as they slowly stood to face the intruders with jittering, jerky movements. Revealing them to be little more than a paper thin shell for the wispy, shadow-like creatures hidden within; exploding into motion on long, spidery limbs tapered to fine points, and with burning crimson eyes seemingly locked upon Ellen's own as they pounced at her with a howl of animalistic rage.

Ducking to one side with a cry of terror, she quickly scrambled back up to her feet as the first of many tried to run her through with its dagger-like arms and scrabbled for something, anything, that could be used to defend herself. Thankfully she wasn't in this alone however, and a brief snapshot from Simon dispersed her would be assailant into so many tendrils of smoke within the blink of an eye, before trying to thin out the horde once more and gain some precious breathing space with what was left of the magazine. Which, given the sheer number of bodies in relatively small confines of a classroom and with their backs quite literally to the wall, wasn't a lot at all.

Especially since both types of monsters seemed to regenerate after a short period and just wouldn't stay down for good. The living shadows reforming and attacking again and again with single-minded determination and an ear-piercing scream of pure hatred, while the ooze monsters squelched back together and lumbered form once more. A fire extinguisher of all things proving to be Ellen's only viable weapon, and even then just barely managing to push back the press of bodies through wild swings and clumsy thrusts that left her open to attack. While Simon was forced to fall back upon rifle butts and fixed bayonet thrusts until he could catch a brief few seconds to reload, before attempting to clear a path through the mob with rapid, precise shots.

"This way! Move!"

Fighting her way from the grasp of a dripping, disfigured limb, Ellen quickly bolted after her brother around the classroom perimeter; ignoring the pain as her knee slammed against a desk in favour of staying one step ahead of the collective horde while Simon kept the screeching shadows off her back. Going deeper into the classroom and further away from the only exit wasn't exactly ideal, but with no way to open the stubborn door again without being torn apart in the process, there was damn little choice if they wanted to stay alive. Their foes seemingly without number, and the few abandoned chairs Ellen managed to push into their path barely slowing them down at all.

She swiftly joined Simon behind the teacher's desk, now free of the vicious shade that had originally sat there, and put it between them and the ever closing horde for what little good it would do. His rifle still barking out a steady staccato beat and just barely holding off the quicker shadow creatures with each pull of the trigger, while Ellen readied the extinguisher with a pounding heart and white knuckle grip. Ready to lash out at anything that got within range, while desperately wishing she wasn't here right now, and for something to give them a way out of this mess.

It was as she prepared to swing at the closest, lurching ooze monster however that a sudden random thought struck Ellen's frantic mind. The specific pattern of worn oak and ringed coffee stains adorning the old desk's surface looked achingly familiar; recognisable with some strange clarity despite the desperate situation, and stirring distant memories of school days long past. More specifically, the time she had been stuck in after school detention with that bitch Kirsty Stewart after they had been caught fighting, and the fact that this looked like the very same room she had been stuck in for what felt like forever to an emotionally charged eleven year old girl. With the dreary, and oftentimes moderately buzzed Mr Kirkwood left in charge at this very desk.

It was no secret among the students and staff at the time that the scraggly-bearded and generally apathetic teacher was going through a particularly messy divorce, and had turned to drink to solve his problems. The rumour mill abounded with tales of him coming in to work half plastered after a long weekend, or keeping a stash of twelve year old scotch in the bottom drawer of his desk, which he took swigs from when he thought nobody was watching. Something which, in this case at least, Ellen fervently hoped was true as she ducked down behind the desk and began to rifle through its contents with a speed born of desperation. Ignoring Simon's yelled protests in favour of putting together what she hoped to be their salvation in this death trap of a room.

Two bottles of half empty scotch, just like the rumours had said, plus a hip flask of something strong enough to strip paint. A battered lighter soon joining the pile, along with a few torn and ink impregnated cloths that had been used to clean the whiteboard one too many times. Put it all together, with little more than sheer determination and half recalled movie scenes as a guide, and Ellen now had a trio of crudely put together Molotov cocktails ready to throw.

Just in time as well it seemed, given that Simon's rifle seemed to have run dry and he was stuck in a vicious melee once more. Several of the ooze monsters having gotten far too close in the meantime and attempting to latch on to the siblings with single-minded determination, with a pulled kick forcing back one of the shambling attackers attempting to flank Ellen's side of the desk and sending it staggering back into a cluster of its fellow kin. Which gave her just enough time to snatch up the nearest bottle, light the alcohol-drenched 'wick' after a few aborted attempts, and finally let it fly with both a bellowed cry.

"Heads up!"

Eyes widening briefly as he caught a fleeting glimpse of her improvised weapon stash and the Molotov already sailing in a neat arc over the horde's front ranks, Simon reacted with the kind of experience that can only be born from countless ambushes and operational paranoia gained in military service. Quickly shoving off the dripping abomination trying to pull him over the desk and ducking under the grasp of another, before hunkering down just as the first Molotov shattered against a distant desk and spread its fiery liquid payload over a surprisingly wide swathe, along with anyone unfortunate enough to get in the way.

Which was strange, given that apart from when sufficiently heated enough to produce vapours and otherwise of a fairly high proof, commercially available alcohol generally isn't all that flammable. Enough to make some novelty flaming cocktails and the like certainly, but never on the kind of scale that looked for all the world like somebody had set off a miniature napalm bomb. Which, for all intents and purposes, is exactly what it looked like to the reunited siblings as they stood back up and took in the carnage with horrified awe.

The collective horde had completely ceasing their assault, seeming to recoil from the point of impact in what looked like terror as a roaring inferno engulfed a good portion of their number, along with incinerating the pustulous sacs from which the ooze monsters had originally spawned. Not even the ethereal shadow-like creatures were immune; screeching an unholy chorus as those caught in the blast writhed on the floor in agony or desperately tried to beat out the flames rapidly consuming them, only to inevitably fall and leave little more than a conflagration of burning cinders that smelt strongly of burning tar.

"Holy shit," Ellen breathed in disbelief, "I can't believe that actually worked."

"What are you waiting for?!" Simon barked out as he rapidly reloaded and dropped a pair of the still frozen monstrosities with successive headshots; his voice quickly bringing her back to reality. "Don't stop now, keep hitting them! We need to get out of here!"

"R-right..."

Focusing back on the situation at hand, Ellen shelved any further thoughts upon the improbabilities of her desperate gamble in favour of fire bombing the remaining horde. The other two Molotov's soon following the first in quick succession, and rapidly forming a rough barrier of flames that kept all but the most aggressive of creatures at bay as they constantly snapped and shrieked in fear-laden frustration. Which in turn gave the two siblings just enough breathing space to finish off any stragglers within their fiery bubble and focus on finding a way out of the deathtrap of a classroom. Preferably before the rising smoke and fumes got to them, or the sprinkler system put a quite literal damper on their only effective method of defence.

But with the classroom's only door blocked off due to spreading flames and murderous, twisted abominations that wanted nothing more than to tear them apart, their options were extremely limited to say the least. Which, unfortunately, left the as yet still intact windows as their only real choice, and given how thick the old glass panes were, Ellen honestly doubted whether they could actually break them at all with the tools they had at hand. Or at least until Simon put a few rounds into the bottom right corner and began to hammer away with his rifle butt, that is. Adding to the spider web of cracks forming across the targeted section of glass in an ever growing pattern and eventually giving way altogether.

Right as the sprinkler system finally kicked in, and the Molotov's now guttering flames slowly began to die down.

"Oh, that is so not good," Ellen muttered under her breath as some of the braver or more foolhardy creatures began to chance their luck against the weakening fiery barrier. Her body tensed and purloined fire extinguisher ready to lash out at the first sign of a breakthrough; or at least until Simon scooped her up in both arms that is. "Hey! What're you-"

"No time," he interrupted. Shifting her against his plate carrier so that her legs were pointing towards the empty space where the broken pane had been. "Come on, up you get."

His intent was clear, and Ellen didn't have so much as a second to protest before the soles of her boots were scraping against the jagged edge of the window frame, shortly followed by the rest of her. The emboldened horde forcing Simon's hand and leaving no choice but to squeeze her through the all too small gap with all due haste, regardless of how much damage it might cause to his sister. A sharp cry of pain escaping her lips as what few shards of glass left in the frame bit deeply into bare flesh, leaving behind a fresh patchwork of scrapes and bleeding cuts as she finally broke free of the confines, before falling to the unforgiving concrete floor outside in an undignified heap.

Gritting her teeth with the sudden, throbbing pain running through her body like liquid fire, Ellen grabbed hold of the mottled stone window sill above and forced herself body to stand upright. Her injuries ignored in favour of finding Simon, and eyes widening in dread upon seeing that he wasn't even making an attempt to fit through the same gap she had just been forced out of like some kind of fleshy cork. Her brother choosing to turn his back and focus upon the surviving creatures lunging at him instead, with one already latched on to his plate carrier and another attempting to drag him down and gnaw at his throat, only to receive a skull cracking rifle butt and combat boot to the face respectively.

"Simon! What're you doing?!"

"Too big to fit through," he hastily replied with a strained grunt of effort. Finally pulling free of his attackers and gunning down another as more charged forth, while Ellen could only watch on helplessly. "Sorry Red, but it looks like you're on your own from here."

"No! I can't lose you again!" she near shrieked in desperation, reaching towards him in spite of the otherwise intact glass separating them. "Simon, please!"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be alright!" he yelled over the increasing number of monstrosities swarming his position, along with a growing, wispy cloud of darkness that seemed to dampen sound as it gradually filled the room within. "Just keep going! I'll catch with you later and- Shit."

The last word was delivered just as his rifle clicked empty, and Ellen had but a few brief, heart-stopping seconds to see the surprised look upon her brother's face before he was promptly dog-piled and hidden from view. The lingering vapour having solidified into a pitch black wall of pure darkness that seemed to swallow all light and sound; disturbingly similar to that which she had fleetingly glimpsed through the school's front doors before barricading themselves inside, but somehow she knew it was much, much worse. An unnatural force that exuded pure terror in the most primal part of her psyche, and sent her already spiralling panic and hammering heartbeat into overdrive as it seemed to rasp with cruel, mocking laughter.

"tWO dOwN... OnE tO gO..." the cloud hissed with a cacophony of voices that was more felt than heard. Ellen involuntarily staggering away from the source while clutching at her skull as it sent cold, stabbing fingers clawing through her mind. "nOoNE LeFt... tO sAVe YoU nOW... LiTTle rAbBiT..."

"Simon! Simon!" she called out in desperation. Teeth grit through the overwhelming fear and pain, and forcing her shaking legs to hold firm in spite of natural instincts screaming at her body to get the hell away from whatever this malevolent force was.

"hE cAn'T HeaR yOu ANymOrE... nObODy CaN..." the... thing chided with an almost sing-song lilt as thick tendrils of darkness began to seep from the broken window pane. Slowly covering the grounds outside at a deliberate, glacial pace, and forcing Ellen to back off on already quivering limbs lest it consume her completely. "nOW RuN LiTTle rAbBiT... RuN AnD DiE... LiKe ThE uSEleSS PrEy tHaT yOu ArE..."

With that, the now condensed mass of darkness suddenly surged forth, and Ellen lost what little nerve she might have had. The already terrified redhead promptly turning tail and fleeing in the opposite direction as the roiling black cloud gave chase; albeit at such a pace that she could just barely keep ahead.

Had she not been a maelstrom of panic-fuelled, fear-laden emotions at that point, it would have been obvious that the darkness was simply toying with her. But given the circumstances, and the fact she was unarmed, outmatched and completely unable to defend herself, it was perhaps understandable that Ellen give in to her natural instincts and desperately tried to put as much distance between it and herself as possible. Her stomach queasy with a sickening cocktail of lingering dread and roiling guilt at the prospect of leaving her brother behind, and the very real fear of having lost him for a second time.

'Oh God, not again... Please don't take him from me again...'

But there would time for dealing with that later, and with practice born from bitter experience, Ellen ruthlessly shunted any such thoughts aside in favour of concentrating on her immediate survival. Her breath coming in ragged gasps and boots pounding along a vaguely familiar concrete path around the main building's perimeter, sending jolts of pain up her still throbbing legs every step of the way. All while the black tide was constantly at her back, practically close enough to touch, as she blindly skidded around a corner and leapt over a long withered, decorative flowerbed in an effort to stay one step ahead.

A stumbled landing almost cost her dearly as she slammed into the adjoining brick wall with a grunt of pain and expulsion of breath, before taking off at a breakneck pace once more. Only to suddenly realise after a dozen or so more strides that she was no longer within the familiar confines of the school grounds, or anywhere else that she recognised for that matter, given that the redhead was pretty sure she had never visited a sub-tropical jungle before. The concrete path having given way to thick underbrush and overgrown ruins of both crumbling red brick buildings and corroded metal prefabs, such as those she had previously seen used on various planets throughout Solana and Bogon.

"The hell...?" she muttered under her breath. Gradually slowing to a halt and turning around on the spot in order to take everything in. "Where am I supposed to be now?"

It didn't make any sense; but then again, given what she had seen of it already, neither did anything else in this warped nightmare world. What constituted reality seeming to whimsically change from one minute to the next, and the less said for the inhabitants, the better. Which was why Ellen was more concerned with the fact that, not only was there no sign of how she had gotten here or indeed where she had been previously, but that her pursuer had also suddenly vanished in the same wraith-like fashion in which it had appeared. Meaning that it was probably lying in ambush somewhere out there in the jungle right now; watching and waiting from the skittering shadows, and poised to strike when she least expected it.

'Feels like its either trying to herd me somewhere, or otherwise keep me away from something,' Ellen mused to herself, having stopped to lean on a tree trunk and catch her breath while there was still a chance. 'But what could that be, and why go through with all this horror movie crap when that thing could have easily taken me out at any time? What am I missing here?'

There were more questions than answers here, and Ellen had a feeling that what was an already insane situation would only get worse the deeper she went. But with no other choice but to keep pushing forward, along with the fervent hope that both her brother and the crazy old man were still alive wherever they may be, Ellen took one last, deep breath before shoving off the branch and forcing her legs to start walking again. Loose leaves and foliage crunching softly underfoot with each carefully measured step.

She was done with running, done with hiding away from her fears, and oh so done with being trapped inside this screwed up place and all the shit it was putting her through. Because psychic freaking space vampire-demon things inside her mind or not, nobody messed with her friends and family without repercussions, and if they were gone for good... Well, the second she found an effective way to fight back, Ellen intended to make those twisted monsters regret the day they decided to prey upon her mind, and make sure they would never again harm another soul. Permanently.

But until such time, and unless the worst otherwise came to pass, there was the more immediate task of finding her way back to the school to consider. One which Ellen took to with the same focus and fiery determination that had characterised her galactic adventures thus far, and which would have had Ratchet cracking bad jokes at what he called her 'serious face' had he been here alongside her.

'God, I miss you fuzz ball...' she sighed wistfully, imagining what must be going through his mind right now. 'I just hope you don't worry yourself sick, or do anything stupid that Clank and the others can't pull you out of...'

And so Ellen Pearce set off through the creeping jungle once more; her fists balled in smouldering anger, and icy blue eyes keeping a constant, vigilant watch on the eerily quiet surroundings for the slightest hint of movement. Never once noticing the blooming patches of colour returning to the otherwise monochrome landscape in her wake.

…and yet again, as mentioned above, things didn't exactly go to plan. But I have no intentions of dragging it out any further, and fully intend to wrap this arc up in the next chapter, one way or the other. Even if it means some seriously stringent editing to make it fit my self imposed word count, and especially since I already have a rough outline of the next arc and can't wait to get started. Until then, take care, and with any luck the next chapter will be up within the next few weeks. See you then!

Review Replies:

starrat - Thanks again. Hope it was worth the wait.

Firestar5277 - Believe me, I know the feeling all too well, and nobody likes having to wait for their favourite story to update at the best of times. But for the most part it usually ends up being oh so worth it, and I'm more than happy to hear you consider my amateurish efforts in the same vein. I only hope that I can deliver on your expectations, and wrap up Ellen's little Nightmare arc in a satisfying way.

While I still don't think the 'Ghosts of Christmas' idea will work with this arc as is, I have to agree that it could make for some really interesting set pieces and storytelling on an emotional level if done right. I'm filing it away for now, with the hope of making good use of it in the future should I find an opportunity. But if you look carefully in the new chapter and squint sideways, you may well see hints of the concept's essence leaking through with the trials Ellen and company are facing.

*Chuckles* Okay, I have to admit, that's a pretty good play on words right there. So I guess it's my turn:

Did you hear about the two librarians who got trapped under a cascading pile of books? They only had their shelves to blame.

…and I'll see myself out. Take care!

Plasmatik - Glad you liked it, and that I could help. Hope you find this one up to par as well.

Snow Wolf Alpha - Ugh… tell me about it. For every chapter that seems to just flow like water, there's always a half dozen more that just don't want to work for whatever reason. More often than not, I do end up reading back through the document in an effort to track down the elusive 'missing element' and branch out from there. The problem is that I'm never really happy with the result, and sometimes end up losing precious writing time in one rewrite after another, or otherwise too caught up on minor details that don't really matter in the greater scheme of things. But practice makes perfect as they say, and hopefully I'll get better with time and experience.

The subject of Simon's status is… something I've deliberately tried not to broach too deeply. Mostly to help keep people guessing, but also because I'm not 100% decided myself, or even sure if I want to confirm one way or the other. Sometimes it just feels better to present a few morsels of information and let the reader's imagination fill in the gaps, you know? Also, pretty sure I implied in chapter that Simon knows who Ratchet is, given that he's able to give an adequate description from memory. As for his absence from her mindscape, you may well be on to something there…

I might well keep the 'Christmas Carol' idea to one side for now; maybe see if I can make it into something special later down the line. Perhaps an omake would be the best way to go, or maybe a side story… bah, I'll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, a very happy new year to you as well, and hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Razor of DOOM - Thanks! You know, I've never played Catherine, and wasn't really thinking of anything else when I started the 'nightmare' chapters, but now that you mention it… Maybe I was picking up some subliminal vibes or something? Either way, I suspect Ellen's going to need a month's worth of hugs once she finally wakes up from her own personal hell.

Bookwriter94 - You know, that kind of reminds me of a quote I once heard a fair while back. Something about perception of reality being as important, if not more so than reality itself; with the underlying idea being that what we constitute as reality is only as ' real' as we perceive it to be. Cue Matrix and/or Inception comparisons.

Thankfully my new PC is working wonderfully, and with any luck I'll start getting back into a steady pace with regards to updating sooner than not. Or at least once I've gotten past my latest stumbling block that is. As for your prediction? Oh, yes… we're going to be in for one hell of an explosive climax once the final assault on Megacorp begins. Believe me, it'll definitely be something to remember.

Sonachugirl - Yep! It's always the weird, crazy, and/or goofy ones you need to watch out for; you just never know what kind of reality-altering BS they're going to pull off next. The rest is all down to Ellen though, and as you've no doubt gathered, things are about to get a whole lot worse for her before it gets any better. Also, before I forget (passes back half empty bottle of brain bleach) thanks for the loan. From now on I'm stockpiling for future use, and the sake of my precious psyche. *shudders*

DarkEnigma95 - Thanks, it's good to be back; even if it is sporadically at the moment. Unfortunately the path to Ellen's recovery and pushing the plot along has… taken a whole lot longer than I expected. Seriously, I only thought it would take two chapters at most when I first pencilled it out. But as you well know by now, my writing has a nasty habit of escalating what should be otherwise simple events out of all proportion, and this mini arc has proven to be no exception.

Thankfully I've got the last act roughly planned out down to chapter length and content, and if all goes well, it should prove to be very memorable finale indeed. I have to admit, the Protopets are kind of cute when they're not devouring everything in sight and spreading like a plague of fluffy locusts,. But I'm not sure if I'd ever want to own one, given Megacorp's track record and the fact it's liable to eat you out of house and home. Literally, in this case. Thanks again, and hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Gamer Heart - Pretty much, yeah. But not by choice, and with the local Morpheus equivalent being maybe a few marbles short…

Vendicor - That it can, and in spades too. Like you said, mental trauma is no joke, and can last for a very long time after any physical injuries have healed. Perhaps not so much in Ellen's case, given that her situation is more of an extremely lucid nightmare, and one that she's liable to forget large chunks of once she wakes up. But definitely not a good state to be in, and liable to affect her quite badly for some time and many sleepless night to come.

dragonborn795 - Nope, it's not. Seriously though, it's only been a few months at most, and I'm just starting to find my feet again. Cut me a little slack at least.