Hello everyone. Yes, this chapter is a little strange but let me get going. I have 30 more pages already written and believe me this has some plan behind it. ahem Let me say thanks to Mai Valentine and Myotismon for reviewing too. Nice to see other fans of the Sandman. My favorites are Despair, Dream, Death, Lucifer, and the Lady Bast -- just so you know what to expect. ;-) Anyway, expect this story to get dark and moody/fantasy-ish. It is a Sandman crossover after all.

Chapter One: Mannequin Smile

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Edgar Allen Poe, The Raven

He opened one eye in the darkness and sighed. The insomnia was getting progressively worse as the tournament intensified. Not that he'd been getting much sleep for the past seven years, but it had only gotten worse since that first battle with Yugi Moto. Pegasus J. Crawford threw back the cranberry silk sheets and climbed out of bed, sliding his feet into a pair of Funny Bunny slippers before he shuffled across the stone floor of his sanctuary. There on the writing desk, just beside his journal, was the card. He lifted the small rectangular slip of paper, the gloss catching the moonlight for a moment before revealing an elderly man's face, hands pressed to the card as though against glass, his eyes wide and terrified. His painted expression of utter dismay.

Replacing the card in its proper place in the journal before pouring himself a glass of Merlot, Pegasus basked in the moonlight as he sipped the wine slowly, gazing calmly out across his moonlit kingdom at the ocean beyond. It was truly beautiful, lush with vegetation and an abundance of tropical animals he'd imported. It had always been one of his favorite dreams, to own a castle on an island in a tropical paradise, and if the island wasn't exactly tropical at least it was still an island. He opened the journal casually, intending to glance over the documentation of his actions in case he was defeated, but his eye narrowed in consternation when he flipped through the thick parchment. Was his eye deceiving him? Every single page in the book was blank, as though the journal had never been touched. He flipped it back and forth in his hands, the usual worn feel caressing his fingertips.

There was laughter from somewhere, and Pegasus whirled around, his amber eye narrowed while the Millennium Eye blazed beneath his abundant silver hair. In an instant he had commanded a Mind Sweep, scanning the area for any living person. To his confusion, however, there was nothing to read. He blinked as the laughter began again. This time he scanned more strongly, seeking out any cracks and crevices where a person might hide. When that failed and the laughter continued he focused his power, lashing out with the intent of destroying any electrical devices with the force of his telepathy; yet there was no result. There was nothing electric in the room.

The laughter continued, and Pegasus turned again, searching everywhere for the source of the sound. "Who's there! Show yourself!"

The sound died away, leaving nothing but the lapping of distant waves upon the shore and the frightened pounding of his heart. When a warm palm touched his bare shoulder a sudden soothing sensation enveloped his body, and before he saw the owner of the hand he already knew he was dreaming. He leaned back into the waiting embrace and turned, gazing into the sky-blue eyes he'd longed for these seven years, the disembodied giggling forgotten. "I'm dreaming, I know, but oh Cyndia I don't care!"

She laughed a little, the music of her voice catching at his heart like barbed wire. He gathered her to his chest, sighing in contentment at the sudden wave of emotion that engulfed him. "I love you, Cyndia my darling." He kissed her forehead tenderly.

She didn't respond, only nuzzled him tighter, and a sudden pang of remorse arced through Pegasus at the thought that she didn't speak because he didn't remember the precise sound of her voice. His memory was only human, and though he did all he could to keep her alive in thought there was nothing that could stop the ticking of time. She was eternally seventeen in his dreams, while he only aged further. He wondered if decades later, when he was old and on the verge of death, if he'd still envision this heartbreakingly beautiful teenager coming to him like a celestial angel.

That thought was too much to bear, and as the pain bubbled in his heart Pegasus pushed the vision away, backing away from her questioning gaze. "You're not real. You're not real, and I can't be satisfied with a mirage any longer." She stared for a moment, then moved toward him again still smiling as though he hadn't spoken. It was the surest confirmation of his fear, and Pegasus backed further from her, wishing the dream would just end now that it had gone so horribly. His resolve was only cemented further that he must defeat Yugi Moto. He still had to get his hands on the holographic technology of Kaiba Corp to resurrect Cyndia. He couldn't be satisfied with the fantasy. Too long starved for the reality, the dream was but a mockery of the happiness he'd once enjoyed. The expression on her face was pure pain to him, reflecting all the more clearly his own ache and the terrible impotence he'd felt as she'd lay dying in that still, cold hospital room years ago. He couldn't help but turn away …

With a yelp and a quick side step Pegasus backed away from the sudden apparition that had materialized beside his desk. A man, it must have been a man. Weren't all scarecrows men? The eyes were lit by some inner source and the carved features had been somehow animated like in a claymation film. The rest of the body, below the pumpkin head, seemed composed of sticks and twigs, clad in grimy overalls smeared with all manner of unidentifiable substances. At any rate, the scarecrow met his gaze, staring with some unreadable expression before spitting on the ground in a very undignified manner and drawling out quite clearly around the cigar firmly clamped between carved teeth, "What'cha lookin' at, buddy?"

"Um, well…" Pegasus glanced behind him at the vision of Cyndia, still looking confused but strangely happy, like a doll programmed to seem provide comfort. "Am I dreaming?"

"Yer a quick one, ain't ya?"

Pegasus stared at the creature for a long moment, studying the jack-o-lantern head and the overalls. It was the sort of creature he'd paint on a card as a joke. He did a quick mental calculation of the attack and defense power before putting the disjointed idea from his head. He really hadn't been sleeping well lately. "So why am I dreaming of a scarecrow?"

The pumpkin-headed creation groaned, shouldering a large mop and lifting a bucket of water with literally gnarled hands. "Now yer gonna ask questions, huh? Just wait around, ya damned sleeper. You'll wake up and go about yer business when the time's right. Now go screw yer girlfriend and leave me outta it."

When the creature turned to leave, slamming the bedroom door on the way, Pegasus was left completely dumbfounded. It was indeed one of the strangest dreams he'd ever experienced. Usually, a dream like this was followed by riotous sex and, when the awoke, a cold shower. Since he'd set his plan to seize Kaiba Corp's advanced holographic technology in motion the dream had grown more frequent, punctuating his urge to return Cyndia no matter the cost. Now, though, his arousal was stifled -- although he knew that his lover was waiting for him, he couldn't participate in the charade any longer. He knew she wasn't really Cyndia, and that knowledge combined with a scarecrow that could barge in at any time radically stilted his libido.

But then her soft arms encircled him and he couldn't help but ease against her, the soft press of her breasts against his body more comforting than any sensation he could think of. She kissed his lips, flashing a playful grin before nuzzling his throat, kissing and nibbling. Pegasus sighed, pulling her close and burying his hands in her thick hair. It was so easy to forget that she wasn't real, to imagine that she'd never died and that he'd been dreaming for the past seven long years. As her hands slid across his chest, Pegasus groaned her name, pulling her closer, desperate to get a near as possible, to never let her go. He massaged her neck absently, working at the muscles he knew his darling one tended to strain … then he stopped. Something was wrong. Something didn't feel right.

He pulled away, holding his lover at arms length as he struggled to focus beyond his painful arousal. She was in a similar state, her breasts heaving as she gasped for breath, her face flushed with passion. But it wasn't Cyndia, he latched onto that idea and held it tight. Cyndia had a mole on the back of her neck, barely perceivable but there nonetheless. He stared at the double with the utmost scrutiny, putting aside his desire as he sought to understand what was happening, and the closer he stared the more flaws he discovered. The double's breasts were twice the size of Cyndia's, her waist too thin, her shoulders too bony by comparison. Cyndia had not been a large woman, but neither had she been the buxom waif that stood before Pegasus. He growled, snatching the woman by her long blonde hair "You're not her!"

As the woman stared up at him in fear it was as though a veil had been lifted from his vision, and Pegasus saw even more clearly that the woman he held was not his lover. A heart-shaped instead of an oval face, dirty blonde hair, gnawed fingernails… definitely not Cyndia. The more he looked, the more flaws he saw. "Its been you every night, never the real Cyndia. Why do you pose as her? Why can't you just leave me alone and let me dream of fields or sky or anything but her?"

The false Cyndia stared, so wide-eyed and terrified that for a moment Pegasus feared the worst, that he'd made a mistake, that had the true Cynndia really appeared before him he'd fail to recognize her after so many years. He loosened his grip, but the girl was fading, melting in his hands into mist and shadow. He felt suddenly sick, like someone had slammed on the brakes in his brain as a strange dizziness creept into his vision, dimming his sight. He held the woman in an ever loosening grip before she slipped away and darkness began to descend. He was waking, but not by normal means as though an alarm had sounded or his body had grown uncomfortable. There was something incredibly powerful shoving at him with an invisible force. Pegasus grit his teeth and drew upon the power of the Millennium Eye to hold his position. He'd never felt anything like the power that pressed against him, wedging itself in his mind and spurring him to wake, to open his eyes and reenter reality. Something was forcing him awake and there was nothing he could do to stop the sudden expulsion.

When he next opened his eye he was laying in bed, covered in sweat and trapped amidst a tangle of sheets. It was seven o'clock in the morning and the sun was just beginning to rise over the second day of the Duelist Kingdom tournament.