Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Power Rangers.

Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing! College rocks but I am so busy that I can only update on weekends. At long last, chapter nine is here! Sorry, I'm afraid that I can't give any clues to my ending. You'll just have to keep guessing!

Chapter 9

The entrance cave loomed nearer as he continued to run towards it. He kept running in the hopes that he could save them. Instead of seemingly going in circles and winding up at the cave entrance, Trent actually made it to where they were.

"Mom, dad, I'm so glad that you are all right!" Trent panted as he caught his breath from running.

But his parents stood staring at him like ancient statues, unmoving.

"Mom, dad, are you okay?"

Trent grew worried. They were not speaking to him at all. And their grim expressions never changed. His worry turned to sheer terror when he saw something gruesome happen before his very eyes. They began to rapidly decay before him until rotten skeletons were all that were left of them.

He screamed and backed up, unable to peel his eyes from the nightmarish sight that stood before him. Then a scratchy, wretched voice spoke to him from what was left of his mother.

It said, "Trent, give up this foolish life so that you can be with us!"

"No! I can't do that! Anton Mercer is my father now and I won't leave him!"

"We are your parents. You belong to us!"

They didn't say anything more but started walking towards him. He continued screaming. A familiar rumbling shook the cave and Trent turned and ran hoping that he could escape the nightmare following him through the dark tunnels. Their grating, decayed voices cried out after him.

He could hear rocks falling behind him somewhere in the cave. Trent tripped over a large rock and fell to the hard rocky cave floor. He scrambled quickly up and took about three steps when a decayed hand grabbed his right wrist. He screamed and screamed.

(2:00 A.M.-Anton Mercer's bedroom)

Anton bolted up out of bed when he heard hellish screaming from down the hall. It sounded as if someone was being murdered! He grabbed a small revolver out of his sock drawer and ran down the hall to Trent's room.

His hasty entrance nearly broke the door off its hinges. Trent was kicking in his sleep as if trying to escape some horror within his mind. He switched the gun on safe and placed it on the dresser.

He ran to Trent's side and tried shaking him awake. Fearing the worst, he grabbed his flailing wrist and checked his pulse. It was racing incredibly fast. This was not a good sign. Anton cringed when Trent's screaming increased in volume.

Whatever it was that Trent was dreaming about, it was so terrifying that it was wearing his body out. Pretty soon, Trent would be in danger of going into shock. He had to find a way to bring his racing pulse down.

Anton racked his brain for something, anything that could possibly help to solve the problem. How about a bucket of cold water? No, that wouldn't do it. That would only make Trent's situation worse if he did go into shock. How could he wake him up then?

He tried shaking Trent awake again and even tried shouting in his ear. There was still no improvement. Trent was so immersed in his nightmare that nothing could wake him up. Then Anton mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it before. He had the solution! He raced back to his master bedroom knowing that time was limited.

Anton took a small box out of his closet and steadied his shaking hands. "I've only got one shot…"