Medium: A Dream Beyond Reason
Chapter I: Dream One
Never has she experience such depression, and lust. Never has the world shown her such extreme agony. What she had experienced last night was something of an abnormal matter. Not an abnormal matter, more of an.. ..impossible matter.
How was any of this possible? What was the world come to? It had only been going on for years, she just couldn't take it. But how could any of this happen? Allison was still in shock. Her husband slowly turned and looked at her with soft eyes.
"Allison?" Joke asked, blinking his dry eyes quickly.
"Yes?"
"Did you have one of those dreams again?"
"Yeah, I did." She said, sliding out of bed, shaking her head a bit.
Allison quickly took a shower, trying to think over last night's "dream." Each time it was different. Stupid fucking dreams. They drove her extremely insane. As she stepped out of the shower and tied her robe, she heard a loud yelling from the kitchen.
"IS TOO!"
"IS NOT!"
"Ariel, Bridget, STOP IT!" Allison yelled, pulling them both by the collar. She looked down at Bridget, who had buttoned her jacket one, or maybe even two buttons off. She crouched down in front of Bridget and sighed, unbuttoning her jacket, and then showing the correct way to do it.
Bridget frowned, and followed Ariel out the door and into Joe's car. Joe came up being Allison and kissed her neck softly, his arms caressing her softly. He quickly pecked her lips, picked up his suitcase, and quickly walked out the door and into his car.
"Have a nice day Joe."
"You too baby. Be careful."
Allison sighed quietly under her breath. 'Be careful,' wasn't exactly the best advice if somebody was in her position. It was more like, 'Don't fall asleep, the Boogeyman might get you.' As she walked back to her room and sat on the bed, her phone rang. Allison groaned and leaned back, picking up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi Allison, we need you down here, as soon as humanly possible."
"Okay Manuel, I'll be down there in twenty minutes at the most."
– -
"So.. What's going on?"
"Well, a girl was abducted. But we don't know by who, or where she was taken," The D.A. said, handing her at least fifty thick suspect files, "Look through these, and do that thing you do when you get that thing when you—you get my point, Mrs. DuBois."
Allison laughed and stepped into her office. She looked down at the desk, and started to open the files. She made four piles; dead, alive and/or active, in jail, and soon-going-to-kick-busted-and-thrown-in-jail. Most of them for that matter, were alive or in jail. Some had connections. Some went solo, while some were in gangs, or secret societies. Some of the connections didn't even have files.
Allison found the suspect; the last file, go figure. A tall Russian man of six-foot-five, pale, and barely even two-hundred pounds. He probably weighed as much as she did. His name was as Russian as that guy next door; Dimitri Maneslov. How.. Russian.
She closed her eyes to concentrate, the burn of light loss stinging in the back of her eyes. What she needed to do was to seek the truth of where the little girl was, and why she was captured. There has to be a reason. Unless the man was some phsyco lunatic rapist.
But she wasn't a little girl. She was at least sixteen. The girl's clothes were partially torn, cuts and bruises covered her small frail body. Dried blood filled her scalp, arms, and legs. It was horrible. A horrible site it was. She looked over to a large bed, which had.. ..formally tied ropes at each bedpost.
"Dirty bastard," she thought. Rape. Mother fucking rape. But where were they? She turned her head to a snap, sending a pounding pulse down her spine. .and looked out the window—
"Allison?" Manuel cocked his head to the side and tapped the desk, looking straight at her.
"Rape. But they're somewhere on the West Coast. I didn't get far enough." She sighed and stood up, looking at the clock. Ten thirty. Joe was probably worried. There were also probably five missed calls on her phone.
"Well, that's okay, there's always tonight. In your sleep that is."
Allison handed him the file, "Dimitri Maneslov. He was on the bottom of the pile. Stupid anorexic raping bastard."
"Alright Allison," he began, shaking his head, "Get more information tonight, and be here by nine o' clock."
"Okay, see you then."
"Let fucking go of me!"
"Just hold still, god damn it!"
A snap. A loud snappy, gruesome slap. The girl screamed extremely loud, it must've hurt; he Dimitri put his hand over her mouth, and lay on top of her. Allison cringed, a cold bloody chill running down her spine.
"Stop! Please, STOP!"
"Shut up!" His accent was rather heavy.
"Stop it!" Her voice.. So young. So innocent, and so damn high-pitched.
"I thought I told you to SHUT UP!"
Allison walked into the room, not knowing, still, where the hell they were. Were they in Oregon? Washington? All she knew is that they were in Apartment number seven on Main Street.. Somewhere South..?
"Let her go."
"No."
"Do it." But what difference would it make? None. It was only a dream.
He pushed Allison up against the wall, cuffs strangling her wrists, cutting off her blood circulation, keeping her up against the wall. She kicked and screamed, she didn't like this one bit. She looked out the window, and saw a sign..
..that sign read "Hollywood."
"Holy SHIT!" She gasped, sitting up in her bed. Joe let out a long sigh and bite his lip, slowly sitting up next to her. He sighed again, and slowly wrapped his arm around her small, perfect waist.
"Find anything good?" He asked.
"Yeah, a million dollars." She said, a tone of sarcasm in her voice.
Allison stood up and walked over to the window, brushing a hand through her long, shiny blonde hair. Her head hung low, and her eyes were wet with tears. Why does she have to see all this? Why her? Why couldn't it be somebody else? WHY HER?
"Joe, he tried to rape me when I entered the room," she said, "In the dream, that is."
"Oh, phew. Because I was about to say.. If my wife got raped and neither I nor the police knew about it—then this town sucks."
She shook her head, and rolled her eyes. Allison then broke her face into a charming smile, and climbed back on the bed, kissing Joe's lips softly, then moved down to his neck, and finally stopping at his chest, where she rest his head. This mission, was going to be a bitch.
