The stories of H.P. Lovecraft (which managed to keep me up half the night with the light on the first time I read them, and kept me in a state of terror for the next week or so) do not belong to me. Should you want a good scare about decaying villages in backwoods New England, or ancient evil gods being awoken to destroy the world as we know it, get your hands on a copy of his stories. I enjoyed reading them a great deal, but the aftermath of paranoia made me quit. He makes "Goosebumps" look like little children's picture books.

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Silent Spirit was crouched on her bed, reading through "The Dunwich Horror and Other Stories" by H.P. Lovecraft, and writing notes on her favorite notepad.

~How's it going?~ I asked her.

~Not to good,~ she thought back, not looking up, ~the methods of putting evil to rest all involve reading aloud from some ancient book. When the evil is put to rest at all, since there seems to be an unhappy ending about half the time.~

~Well,~ I told her, moving over to my bed, ~at least you're talking to me.~

~There was a non-horror story in the book, about a man who had such pleasant dreams that he left the real world forever and stayed in the dreams, that made me feel better.~

~Speaking of feeling better,~ I thought as encouragingly as I could, ~this note is for you. From Kurt.~

Spirit reached over with her left hand and took it. I felt a spark of interest emanating from her. As she carefully unfolded and read the note, I closed my eyes and focused upon what it said.

In Nightcrawler's distinctive and careful handwriting, the note stated:

Silent Spirit, I have been much concerned about you. I am aware that it is your battle that you must fight, but remember to not be prideful, refusing the help of others. Your friends and teachers will do anything to end this problem. I do not know how religious a person you are, but from experience I have found that faith is one of the strongest weapons for survival in a difficult time. Besides the 23rd Psalm, my favorite psalm in the Bible is the 91st. I feel that it might help give you hope and strength, as it has for me. This is a part of the psalm, the part that I find to be the most powerful. It seems to speak of your situation especially.

Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day.

Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.

A thousand shall fall at they side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.

Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.

Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation.

There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.

God be with you in your trials. I have faith in you.
Kurt Wagner

~Such a nice man,~ I thought to Spirit when I had finished.

I felt a rising bubble of excitement and victory from her, which exploded in a wild mental shout, ~EUREKA!!!~ She jumped up on the bed and threw her sweater up in the air with one hand.

~What? What?~ I asked, confused, but happy for her.

~I've figured it out! It all fits together now! I'll need to work out the plan first, of course, but I've got the basic idea!~

~What idea? You mean how to deal with the haunting?~

~YES!~

I jumped down off my bed, pulled her with me, and did a happy dance with her. ~I knew you'd get it! I knew it was going to get better!~

She abruptly stopped and pushed her sunglasses up her nose. ~It's not guaranteed that it will work, but it's something. Let me sketch out the outline of it first, then I'll tell you.~ My friend grinned. ~And I've just realized that I'm hungry! I haven't been hungry for days.~

~To the kitchen!~ I shouted telepathically, linking my left arm with her right. We skipped off together.

Some minutes later, while she slurped a bowl of clam chowder, she asked me several detailed questions about my powers. I answered every time, too happy about her cheer to ask why she wanted to know. Today I only remember a few of the questions.

~You said that you've learned how to access some of the deepest parts of the brain, right? The part that contains skills and abilities?~

~Yes, but it's hard.~

~How do you "visit" a place with your clairvoyance? Do you have to have been there, or can you go when you've just seen a picture, or are you able to take yourself somewhere if you've just heard a description of it?~

~It's easiest if I've been there, or I can do it after seeing a picture, which is more difficult. I've never managed to do it with only a description.~

Her enthusiasm waned for a moment, then flared up again. ~That's okay. Didn't you once say that when a telepath has done a great deal of telepathy with a person, they have a sort of "psychic link" that makes the telepath able to achieve things that they are unable to do with anyone else? ~

~Yes, though I'm not sure when I said that.~

~The first week I was here. Do you have a link like that with me?"

~I don't know, it's pretty likely, I guess. I talk to you telepathically so often.~

Spirit finally looked up from the now drained soup bowl, shaking her head. ~You haven't been able to recently. I'm sorry that I shut you out. It wasn't your fault.~ She ran her fingers through her silver hair, putting it into something faintly resembling order.

I stroked her broken arm. ~It's okay. I know you've got a lot to deal with. But will you let me help you? You can't do it all alone, even if you're as special as I know you are.~

My best friend smiled. ~Thanks. What did you think I was asking you all those questions for? The plan I'm working on has you in the picture.~

~And you'll tell me what it is when you're finished with it?~

~Yes.~

I shifted uncertainly. ~I told Jim about the nightmares when I was really stressed out about you yesterday. He believes it, and promises to not tell anyone. Is that okay with you?~

~Of course it is! Techie's our friend too. Though I think he likes you a shade better than he likes me. ~ SS grinned smugly.

~I don't know what you're talking about...~

~Yeah right. You sense emotions. You should know. ~

~He's our friend, okay? Our FRIEND.~

~Honestly, do you sometimes ever want him to be more than that? ~

~Sometimes...~ I admitted.

~Here he comes, ~ Spirit added.

"This is great!" rejoiced Jim upon seeing Spirit. "I was afraid that you were going to disappear forever. Glad I'm wrong. Are you feeling better, Spy?"

"Yeah, thanks," I answered as I told the smiling from ear-to-ear Silent Spirit what he had said.

"She looks a lot more cheerful than you described her," Jim said as he pulled out a stool and sat next to me, putting down his school binder. Our order was he, me in the middle, and Spirit on my right.

"Things are looking up," I replied, "she's working on a plan about how to deal with it."

~Does Jim have a piece of paper and a pencil that I could use? Scrap paper's fine. ~ Spirit thought to me.

I told him what she wanted, and he handed over a sheet with printing on one side and a pen. ~Why? ~ I asked her.

~I want to draw something. ~

~I didn't know you were good at drawing. ~

~Fairly good, but I just haven't shown you any drawings yet. ~ She began to meditatively scribble with the pen.

"What's she sketching?" Jim asked. I shrugged.

Presently she did a final flourish with the pen, and pushed the paper over to where Jim and me could see it. Then she yawned massively, and got up to rinse out the bowl in the sink. When I looked at the illustration a chill went down my spine. There was a high plateau that appeared to be suspended in a black void. On the broad plateau there were massive gray boulders, their edges standing out like upturned spears. They formed a ring around the center of the plateau, where there was something that looked like a bleak, deathly white box the size of our bedroom. It had no doors or openings, and something about it felt like a prison cell. Underneath this drawing was a separate one labeled, "Inside the Cell", which looked just like the image I had seen in Spirit's mind, from her nightmare. There were the five doorways, like in her dream, but they were now colored solid black, and there was the bright white light on the ceiling. However, there was a separate door, closed, labeled, "Reality".

"Man! That picture is creepy," murmured Jim, echoing my feelings.

When Spirit came back to the table I asked her why she drew such an unsettling picture. ~Is that what was on the outside of the room in your dream? ~

Silent Spirit nodded. ~During the past few days I've been talking to a lot of people. Among them was a former ghost, who had eventually been put to rest after three centuries of haunting a medieval cathedral. She told me that she'd found herself in a strange, desolate place that had a portal leading to the rafters of the cathedral, where she could see tourists come to visit, and generally observe what was going on. The place aside from reality, though, was this ghost desert. The former ghost gave me a detailed description of what it looked like. It stands to reason that the limbo where Stryker is spending most of his time looks like my drawing.~

~But why did you need to draw it?~

~Because I'm hoping that you are able to take us there.~

"Spy, are you okay?" asked Jim. "What are you talking about? You've turned the color of a blank Word document." When I told him what Spirit had told me about the drawing, he turned the same color, along with dropping his jaw.

~I was worried that you might react that way,~ thought my furred friend ruefully. ~I'd thought about going there as soon as I heard about it, but I didn't know how we could actually defeat him once we were there. That's the idea that Mr. Wagner's note gave me, after I'd spent the past two days trying to come up with an answer. You see, at the beginning of the year I had a one-on-one written conversation with him. He was wondering if my abilities fit in with his beliefs, and I told him that if you thought of it as hearing angels, instead of as hearing ghosts, than it seemed to fit quite nicely. I can't even hear Stryker's ghost, as he isn't on the right 'wavelength' for me to hear him, except in dreams. In any case, when I read the quotation about angels helping to guide the way, it all clicked. We can't fight him, because the living can't hurt him, but the dead could hurt him. ~

I saw the light. ~There's probably several deceased mutants out there who are willing to help, right? ~

~Oh yes, and there's also my parents, and many of my ancestors, various late pro-mutant activists, tons of people.~

~But why do WE have to go there? Can't you just sic them on Stryker? ~

~He's not on their plane of existence either. We have to show them the way to get to him. Trailblaze the path. Summon the avenging angels. You get the idea. We also have to work together, because you'd never be able communicate with anyone or summon the fighters without me. But I couldn't get there without your clairvoyance projecting us there. Fortunately, you have both clairvoyance and telepathy. Since we're best friends and you read my mind a lot, hopefully we have a link strong enough for you to get both of us there.~

I related this plan to Jim. "Do you think it's possible?" I asked him.

"I'm not going to decide this," he said. "It's your decision. But do you really have a choice?"

How could we ever do it? I wondered. Jim was right, though. If I didn't go along with it, not only would I be proving myself to lack loyalty and courage, but Stryker's new plan of havoc would succeed. For only Spirit and I could stop him. Taking a deep breath, I told both of my friends, ~Okay. I'll do my best. ~