"...the angels sang a whiskey lullaby…"

-- Whiskey Lullaby

Lona opened her eyes slowly. Things didn't seem right. She felt groggy, out of place. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the combination, she thought.

"That was stupid," she said to herself. "I should have waited until the alcohol wore off to try the machine. All that, and nothing happened."

She looked around the room she was in. It looked and felt cold, unused. There were a couple tables, two of which had dead, almost mummified bodies on them.

"I was in my lab," she said to herself, putting a hand to her aching head. "This looks like a morgue, but it's not the Kingdom Hospital morgue. Did they think I was dead? But why not put me in the Kingdom Hospital morgue, and why do I still have my clothes? This doesn't make sense. I have to find someone."

Lona walked over to the door she thought was the exit and opened it revealing a hallway. On the outside was a sign that said 'Morgue'.

"Well, at least I was right about two things," she said to no one. "That was the door out, and this is a morgue. Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better," she said nervously looking around.

Lona stepped out of the morgue and looked around the hallway. The hallway was dimly lit and looked just as unused as the morgue. It seemed dusty, dirty, grimy. She looked to the left and the right; the hallway seemed to go on forever in either direction.

"Well," she said decidedly, "all I have to do is pick a direction and stick with it, and eventually I'll get somewhere."

She looked left, and then right again; decided that left looked more appealing (which was definitely a relative term under these conditions) and started walking that way.

Hook and Chris stood aside of each other outside the funeral home. Everyone else had already left, either to go home, or to go to the cemetery for the burial. The two of them stood together, and yet alone.

"Thanks for the help," Chris said breaking the silence.

"Of course, Lona was a good friend."

"Did anyone ever figure out what happened?"

"Well, the autopsy discerned the cause of death, but as to what brought it on or why, I guess we'll never know. She was obviously running an experiment; something must have gone wrong."

"I just don't understand, what was she trying to do? What was so important?"

"I guess we'll never know," Hook said putting his arm around her. "It's time to go to the cemetery. We should be there."

"Did I mention that I managed to get the plot next to Elmer's for Lona. I think she'd like that."

"No, you left that part out; though I'm sure they'd both have wanted it that way."

Lona felt like she'd been walking for hours. There was no way to know for certain how long it had been, she'd discovered that even though she had her watch, it wasn't working.

"It can't have been that long," she said to herself. "I'm not even hungry. If I'd really been down here for hours, I'd be hungry by now. If only I could find an elevator or stairs even."

She kept walking down the corridor, looking for a way out; examining each of the doors she passed trying to figure out where she was. As she passed one door, the sign caught her attention; it said 'Pain Room'.

"Pain room," Lona said to herself questioningly. "That doesn't sound like someplace I'd want to be. Why would a hospital have a pain room?"

As she continued on she passed by two figures in the shadows unnoticed by her. The two figures, one a small girl, the other a large furry anteater, watched her as she walked along the hallway.

"Isn't there anything we can do to help her," Mary asked her furry friend.

"No, nothing," he replied and turned and started walking away.

"Antubis, she needs help."

"We can't help her."

At the burial, Hook was the first to step forward and take a hand of dirt. He stepped over to the grave and sprinkled the dirt on top of the coffin. Chris was right behind him. When she had sprinkled the dirt over the coffin she reached out and took Hook's hand. They started to walk back to Hook's car.

No one seemed to notice a shadowy figure watching from a short distance off, standing beneath a nearby willow tree. He had stood there watching during the entire service without making a noise, seemingly unnoticed by everyone. He watched as everyone left the grave and still he waited.

When everyone had left, he slowly shook his head and faded away as if he had never been there. A silent, ghostly mourner who had been unseen by everyone.

Lona continued down the corridors. By now all the corridors had begun to look alike. There weren't any markings on the walls to let her know where she was or the way out. She came upon another door, just another door among the countless she had already walked by. The sign on this door read 'Morgue'.

"This can't be," she said to herself. "This can't be the same door. If it is I've been walking in circles."

She opened the door and walked inside. The room looked the same. The tables, the two dead bodies, everything looked exactly the same. This was the room she started in some unknown time ago.

Lona sat down on the floor and started to cry. This had been a waste of time, she'd gotten nowhere, all that walking and she ended up right back where she started. There was no way out of here. She was trapped.

As Lona sat there crying, the doorway started glowing. Light started pouring through the doorway, more and more light. The light quickly grew bright enough to get Lona's attention. She turned and looked into the light. It was bright, but for some reason it didn't hurt to look at it.

"Lona," she heard a familiar voice call to her. "Lona."

"Elmer," she called back, "Elmer, is that you; but you're dead, I was at your funeral. It can't be you, you're dead."

"Lona," the voice continued, "I'm here for you Lona."

"No, this is just a dream. That explains everything. I'm still hooked up to the machine. This is all part of the dream. Elmer's dead and this is a dream."

"Lona," Elmer continued slowly appearing in the doorway as a faint image, "this isn't a dream, you're trapped here. You're stuck between worlds. I'm here to free you, take my hand."

"No, this is just a dream. You can't be Elmer because Elmer's dead. If you're Elmer that means I'm dead, and I'm not dead, just dreaming. I shouldn't have used that much of an injection."

"Lona, it's me, Elmer. If you don't take my hand you'll be trapped here. Lona please, just take my hand, please."

"NO," Lona yelled beginning to rock back and forth. "You're not Elmer, you're a dream. This is all just a dream. Nothing's real. I'll wake up and all of this will be gone. None of this is real, you're not real."

"Please Lona," Elmer pleaded, "take my hand. I love you."

"Elmer, you're not real."

"I'm real Lona, I'm here to save you, you're trapped here. Please, take my hand, come with me. I love you."

"Elmer…."

"Lona, just take my hand, please."

Lona stopped rocking back and forth and turned to look at Elmer.

"Elmer," she said weakly.

"Lona."

Lona lifted her hand and reached out to Elmer.

(to be continued?)