WARNING: This chapter contains depictions of graphic violence and gore.

A pattern was beginning to emerge among the residents of the Happy Hotel, proving that Vanessa's nightmare was not the isolated incident most had expected it to be.

It was just the start.

One after another, resident after resident of the Happy Hotel experienced a horrifying and traumatizing nightmare, whether it was a memory, or just a particularly bad dream. No one seemed to be safe from it.

Over the course of the next two weeks, just about everyone in the hotel had experienced nightmares, whether they awoke the rest of the building's occupancy, or left the victim whimpering in their sleep for the rest of the night.

Vanessa was just the beginning, and two weeks later, every single person in the Hotel had experienced some sort of 'lucid nightmare' as they'd been dubbed. Not even the staff were safe, as even Charlie had experienced some sort of nightmare that had left the usually bubbly princess a whimpering mess within Vaggie's arms.

It was coming time to realize that these nightmares were not natural, nor were they coincidences…

And it would only take the right person suffering one of these lucid nightmares before action would have to be taken.

He had long since grown used to the cold temperature of the room. Where its chill would have bitten at his skin before, now it was only a light discomfort compared to what the recent days held.

He'd lost count of how many times it had happened. How many times he'd been cut open, only to heal over once more.

Since the day he discovered his immense healing ability. Since the day he discovered that superhumans aren't just the stuff of comic books. That he was one.

His healing had been put to the test ever since.

John Gallagher could unfortunately say that he knew what dissection felt like. What it was like to have a sawzall cut through his sternum. What it feel like to have his ribs forced open, only to force themselves back into place.

What it felt like to have lungs punctured. To have his stomach ruptured.

What it felt like to be disemboweled.

The cold metal that wrapped around his person has long since gone unfelt. Along his chest, his head, his arms, his legs… he no longer felt it unless he struggled, having long since gone numb in those areas.

But even when finally healed… the pain was still raw. Still fresh. Everything from his clavicle to his naval was tender.

Lately, it was the times of silence, of solitude, that he craved. Because every second he was alone, was a second of respite, from the unending torture that would most assuredly follow.

The cold metal table upon his back had long since warmed from his body heat, rubbing his back raw every time he'd struggle.

His throat, even with his newfound healing abilities, had long since gone hoarse from his screams.

It was during these periods of solitude that he'd sink into his fantasy land. He wasn't on some metal table in an unknown location. He was back home with Mamaw and Papaw, watching cartoons with them, or playing video games with James and Shiela.

He was at school, spending time with Levi or Maddie, or both… or hell, just spending time with Maddie, whether it was a movie, game, or some other activity that she'd more than likely chosen

How he missed it, and what he wouldn't give to have those times back. He'd never take them for granted.

If he ever got that chance again.

Frozen fear crept through his already exhausted person when the sound of a familiar mechanical whirring sounded out through the dark room, accompanied by three sets of footsteps.

The voices of his tormentors rambled on, but John had long since lost the capacity to pay attention to anything they said. It was what followed their appearance that was always at the forefront of his mind.

"Johnny!" The cruel voice of Tibe sounded in his ears. "Excited for another session? I know I am!"

Of course, the sadist would see this as a fun little hobby. What John wouldn't give to see the tables turned, for him to suffer the torture that he enjoyed inflicting.

"Settle down, Tibe." The cool, slick voice of the ring leader admonished his comrade, as Jason Meadows finally stepped into view, glancing at John's restrained form with intrigue. "These are tests, and I take no pleasure forcing a brother through these trials."

So he said… but John did not question, nor did he care to. In fact, he said nothing at all, simply staring. He couldn't afford to speak now, not when it would only cause more pain later on.

"As my friend has said, however, we are due for another session." Jason's voice was that of a calculated doctor, as if this were a routine checkup and not excruciating torture upon some random soul. "If you're lucky, our time here will finally bear fruit, and if not… just know that your sacrifice will not be in vain."

It's talk like that which had led John to believe that no matter how much he wished for it, he was never leaving this place. That he'd simply… disappear.

John's entire body went tense as when the familiar, bone chilling sound of an industrial tool whirring filled his ears… before the third one, Jack, stepped into view, bloody sawzall in hand.

"You know the drill." Jason said, turning to his colleague with a cold glance. "Get started on the sternum, and we'll join you to open him up."

Jack simply nodded.

The sounds of footsteps shuffling away were the furthest thing from John's mind as Jack began bringing the sawzall to his chest at a familiar and gut wrenching pace.

And then he shoved the industrial tool through John's chest, directly into his sternum.

And the torture began anew.

In the past two weeks, being awoken to blood curdling screams was nothing new to the Radio Demon. Admittedly, even he'd been victim to it once, having one of those 'lucid nightmares' about his abusive father.

However, the voice that awoke him was not only one he knew… but one he'd never heard with such terror in his voice.

Alastor shot up out of his bed, trademark smile gone from his features, eyes wide, a look of pure horror on his face as the earth-shattering scream of John Gallagher rang through the Hotel.

"What on Earth?" He couldn't help but question for only a single moment, before he jumped out of his bed, flinging his covers onto the floor and ignoring the fact that he was in his night clothes as he bolted out the door.

Whatever John was dreaming about, it was definitely far worse than anything he could imagine.

Alastor was not one to shy from the truth, unless it was to his benefit, so he not ashamed to admit he cared a great deal for John, as he did Husker and Niffty.

So just like Husker and Niffty, Alastor was caught up in his worry, and found himself sprinting to John's room.

Alastor clearly wasn't the only one worried for the giant, he could see that clear as day. Charlie had already thrown her door open and was at John's own, trying to open the lock. Behind her, Vaggie had her spear brandished, seconds away from hacking the door to pieces.

Up ahead, Angel was sprinting down the hall in their direction as well with Vanessa hot on his heels, worry evident on both of their faces.

Behind him, he could hear a pair of padded footsteps and little stubby footsteps right on his tail.

"Charlie, just break the damn door!" Vaggie clearly was worried for the giant, a far cry from her original disposition towards him, and she was clearly tense, her entire frame vibrating in worry.

Charlie was clearly eager to get inside well, and Alastor would later admire how quickly and efficiently the princess decided to obey, simply bulldozing through the door as if it were paper, turning it to splinters.

"JOHN!"

The anguished cry from Rose within the room clearly didn't help the already tense atmosphere among them all, nor did the site that awaited inside.

One of the few sites that could make Alastor's long dead heart skip a few nonexistent beats.

"Come on, baby, wake up!" Rose was completely hysterical, shaking frantically at John's shoulder in an attempt to wake the panicked giant. Tears were streaming down her face, and she looked moments away from a breakdown of her own.

"Move!" Husker was the first to step forewarn, grabbing Rose in a firm grip and pulling her away as Charlie climbed up onto the bed to take her place.

"John! It's just a nightmare!"

Whatever nightmare John was immersed in was clearly tugging at him more than anything they could achieve, as the giant simply sat, noises that mixed grunts and whimpers escaping his twitching form.

"Jesus, kid, wake up!" Angel shouted as he too jumped onto the bed next to Charlie, attempting to shake John's entire body, anything to wake him up at this point.

Alastor hated to admit it, but… he had absolutely no clue what to do in this situation. In spite of the events of the past two weeks, he'd never been the one to finally awake most of the victims. It'd been John, Charlie, or Vaggie.

He'd never been in a position where he'd had to wake somebody.

But now, he didn't know who'd wake John. Rose was absolutely frantic, and both Charlie and Angel were shaking at him helplessly. He had no clue what he could do-

Wait. There is one thing.

"Move!" Alastor took charge almost immediately. There was one thing he could do, but he'd have to be careful.

Black magic in his veins allowed Alastor to do many things that even most other overlords could only dream of. One of which was the ability to manipulate the dreams of those he chose. Dreamwalking, some would say. An ability nigh impossible to the living, due to their more solid forms. But very much in the realm of possibility for experienced demons.

"Aperi mentem, Psyche aditum patere," Alastor's words were a language foreign to most in the room as he climbed onto the bed, but it wasn't the words so much as the dark energy that began swirling in his hands.

"What are you doing?" Rose was eyeing Alastor's hands with a weary gaze, more than uncomfortable with the fact that she could feel the unknown magic's negative energy directly.

Husk, however, realized very quickly.

"Back up!" He ordered almost immediately, moving past the distraught succubus and snagging both Charlie and Angel by their arms, nearly yanking to floor as he tugged them off the bed.

"What's going on?!" Angel asked, his gaze bouncing between Alastor and Husk frantically as he watched it play out.

"Mentem intras, quae non recta capias!" Alastor finished his incantation as he laid his hands upon John's head, the energy he'd gathered cascading across the giant's entire body.

And then… it was as if they were one, as Alastor's form seemed to become detached from reality, molding to John's form… until only John remained.

"Well, that was an experience." Alastor muttered to himself as he dusted his dream avatar off, a habit more than an actual need. It wasn't often he'd ever utilized this particular ability. As a matter of fact, he'd only ever used it three times in the past, and none of those were really for any reason other than his own amusement.

Sure, his victims were never the same, but he wasn't here to amuse himself, this time. He was here to help a friend.

John's dreamscape wasn't one similar to the others. Whereas before, he'd had access to their entire mind, here, he'd limited himself to John's nightmare alone.

And admittedly… it's not what he expected.

In front of Alastor was a set of large mechanical doors. They seemed to be all that existed, as nothing else but pure blackness remained.

"Hmm… those doors do look rather… disconcerting." He muttered to himself as he approached.

He figured that he'd have to pry the doors open, but the moment he reached a hand towards them, it was as if they whirred to life.

With a violent shudder, the doors rolled open, allowing Alastor to see within the room.

Within, there was nothing but darkness that he could see. The only visible thing within the room was a bright light, shining down upon a metal table, turned upright, away from him.

What he could see, however, was not a very pleasant site.

The table was old, rusted, caked with dried blood. It was… a tad morbid, even for his tastes. Even when choosing his victims, Alastor was not one to fool around with his pray. He found them, killed them, buried them. And that was it.

Whatever this dream was… Alastor felt it as more of a memory. And he wasn't sure that even he'd like what he saw.

Slowly, he allowed himself to enter the apparent torture chamber, his legs feeling the need to drag as his entire body was tense.

As he approached, he could see a visible form as he moved to go and see what lied atop it, as well as the metal restraints that held the form in place, unable to move. And as he moved to completely to the other side…

Well, it was no exaggerated guess to say that what Alastor was looking at… was horrifying.

It was a human form, rather than a demon, but still, even without the horns, Alastor could recognize that face, angled jaw, the messy shoulder length hair caked in blood.

Atop the table looked to be a still-living John Gallagher, stripped naked as the day he was born, face twisted in agony, tears streaming down his face.

His human form was nowhere near as massive, or as muscular, as his demon form… at least, not during whenever this memory took place. It was more… farmboy-esqe was the word that popped into Alastor's mind. In fact, he had a lot more fat than he'd have ever thought John could have. But… none of that was on the forefront of his mind.

No, what he was focusing on was his entire torso.

It was as if someone had dissected him alive.

Everything from John's sternum to his naval was cut open with surgical, if crude, precision, exposing his entire set of mangled organs within him. Alastor could see every organ with the exception of his heart, cut to pieces and mangled to shreds. His sternum seemed as if somebody had forced it open by hand, and his ribs… well, even Alastor had a limit to what he could stomach.

The Radio Demon let out a gasp, a hand coming to instinctively cover his mouth as he looked at the site that awaited him.

"Dear God…" His voice audibly quivered as he took in the site. In the time he's known John, he'd have never imagined he jovial and outgoing giant would ever be holding this kind of truama within him.

"What are you waiting for?!"

The sudden outburst admittedly startled Alastor, and he couldn't help it when he took a step back. John's entire form was shaking in both terror and pain, and he looked too afraid to even open his eyes.

"W-What?"

"Come back to cut me up some more?!" John shouted as loud as his destroyed lungs and damaged throat would allow, and it was only now that Alastor noticed the visible gash upon his throat.

Someone had actually cut his vocal chords.

"What happened to letting me heal?!" John's damaged voice was little more than a high-pitched whimper as he broke out into sobs at this point, and it was becoming clear to Alastor exactly what was causing this distress.

"My dear boy…" Alastor could only mutter quietly as the realization settled in. "I'm not one of your captors…"

Finally, John's eyes cracked open, and fearful blue eyes laid themselves upon Alastor's red form. Visible confusion came upon his pain wracked face as he realized who else was also present.

"A-Al?"

That voice… so small, fear-filled, desperate… it didn't belong on John Gallagher's features. Not in Alastor's opinion.

"H-How are you here?" He asked, as the reality began to set in a little. "Wait… what even is here? This has already happened!"

John was coming close to a hysterical frenzy, and it was not a situation Alastor was ready to deal with. Especially not in this situation.

"It's a dream." Alastor spoke softly, approaching the teen on the table slowly as he raised a hand.

Watching John visibly try and flinch away from his hand was admittedly a heartbreaking site for even Alastor to bear.

"It's alright." Alastor assured as softly as he could manage, his expression one of rare gentleness as he laid a hand down upon one of John's restraints.

It was laughably easy to crush the metal restraint into pieces, and while Alastor would love for nothing more than to tear them off himself… this was something that John had to realize.

"It's a nightmare, none of it is real." Alastor assured as he moved methodically, slowly moving from one restraint to another as he spoke. "I'm here to show you that."

"W-What's going on?" John's voice lacked the composure it usually showed, and it was beginning to get to Alastor, seeing this teen boy who's always been so jovial in such a vulnerable position… it was jarring, uncomfortable.

"I'm here to help you wake up from this nightmare." Alastor assured as he finished every restraint above his waist. "But I can only do so much. This was a risky maneuver, and I'm afraid that you must finish removing your shackles."

"P-Please…" John's face scrunched in agony as he looked at Alastor, practically begging him with his gaze alone. "Get them off…"

How Alastor wished he could… but if he did, John would never be the same. Only a shell of his former self.

He needed to find his strength, and remove the shackles himself.

"That's not the John I know." Alastor said with a small smile as he took a step away from the table. "Where's your strength? The John I know would force his way from these shackles, regardless of his pain."

"B-But it hurts…" John was sobbing at this point, his entire person that of someone who'd been shattered long ago. "P-Please… help…"

"I can only do so much." Alastor said, genuine remorse in his tone as he spoke, his gaze gentle as he eyed the teen. "If I were to pull them myself, you'd be a shell of who you once were."

John stared at Alastor for a moment, contemplating his decisions as he turned his anguished gaze towards the last four restraints that held him to his prison.

And with a hiss of agony, he moved.

It was jarring, watching John lean down, arch his back with the gaping hold in torso, as he reached both hands towards the restraint around his left knee.

Watching him tug at it was even more disheartening.

At first, it seemed as if nothing was to be done… before the metal groaned.

And, it seemed, as if that assurance was what John needed.

Alastor watched as a look of determination worked its way through the endless agony, and with a roar, John ripped the restraint off, sending it flying.

Repeating the process was hard for Alastor to watch, especially with the pain that John was visibly in.

But he would bear it.

John was his friend. And not just someone he could use to his own gain. He cared for John, for his well-being.

John was his friend. A real friend.

Removing the ankle restraints was an even more sickening site, watching his entire torso bend and warp unnaturally due to the hole in his front side, but the determination John was known for shined through, as he ripped them off with one hand each.

And he was no longer stuck to the table.

Only then, did Alastor return to John's side.

It was terrifyingly easy to catch the teen form as he nearly fell forward to the floor, and Alastor was careful to avoid any unnecessary tugging that would aggravate the wounds, even though it wouldn't matter much.

Every thing happening was symbolic. To show that John was as strong as he's ever been. Able to fight through the same pain he's lived with for so long.

Though Alastor wished he could've woken him the old-fashioned way… perhaps this will benefit him better in the end.

When John finally raised his head to look at Alastor, the Radio Demon gave a rare, gentle smile, and offered a hand.

"What do you say we go back to the waking world, now?"

It was a tense few minutes as they awaited for whatever magic Alastor was working to do it's job.

Angel had Vanessa tucked into his side, the poor girl grief stricken as she waited in bone-chilling anticipation while staring at John's now still form.

Rose was sitting by John's side, having long since been released from Husk's grip, but she was not alone. Also on the bed was Charlie and Vaggie, all three women watching John's form with worry evident in all three of them.

The only one not present was Niffty and Husk, as the older demon had deemed it best for her to not be present at the moment, no matter how much she'd like to be there for one she saw as a brother.

"God, what's taking so long?" Angel had finally spoken, interrupting the already tense silence as he grew impatient.

"I don't know…" Charlie grumbled, uncharacteristically somber. "But if what Husk said is any indication, this could go in either direction."

"It better work." Rose growled, face twisting into one of anger for a moment as her gaze left John's for a brief moment. "I don't care who he is, I will kill Alastor if he hurts John."

"You won't be alone on that front." Vaggie piped in, brandishing her spear at the thought of the Radio Demon.

Their waiting would finally pay off a moment later, when some type of distorted energy seemed to leave John's entire being, forming next to the bed and solidifying.

And Alastor was present once more in the waking world.

"Al?" Vanessa couldn't help but to ask, the one word holding all her questions at once as she gazed at her friend.

A far cry from the usual malicious smirk, Alastor gave a genuine smile, soft, as he looked at the worried succubus.

"Give it a moment."

And with that, all eyes were once again on John in anticipation.

It took a few seconds, which seemed to stretch on into minutes, but finally, John budged.

Slowly, his massive frame rolled over, until everyone in the room could see his face.

A startled gasp escaped both Charlie and Vanessa, the princess moving a hand to her mouth in shock as everyone eyed the giant's face.

Shuddered breaths escaped John as his eyes wandered, his face the very definition of fear, tears flowing freely down his face as he eyed everyone in the room.

"John?" Rose muttered under her breath, allowing a hand to come to rest upon his cheek. As much as she wanted to ask him what it was, what kind of dream could have John of all people as a whimpering mess…

John needed her right now. That's all that mattered to her.

John's eyes came to rest on her, his own blue pools meeting her own pink ones, filled with so many emotions that she couldn't place many of them.

And then… he spoke.

"I'm sorry…" His voice was a quiet whisper, a sign of how fragile he was at the moment.

John had promised Rose that he'd be there for her, always.

It was her turn to be there for him.

"Come here." She muttered softly, tugging John so that his head was resting upon her lap. The giant gave no resistance. Instead, he welcomed it, tucking his face towards stomach as he rolled further, his arms coming up to wrap around her as best as they could as the dam finally burst, and John let his emotions show for everyone in the room.

"I'm sorry…" It was as if he felt it was his fault, that him waking them from his own experience with a lucid nightmare was some grave sin.

"Shh…" Verosika whispered as she allowed John to weep, sobs wracking his body as she gently rubbed the top of his head in a comforting gesture, her heart breaking with every hitched breath that escaped him. "It's okay… it's okay…"

To all present, even Alastor, it was a horrible, heart wrenching site to watch.

If a lucid nightmare could bring down one of the most jovial people in the hotel, nearly break the strongest person even of them had ever known… What else awaited?

Charlie watched the site, her heart breaking with every second that it continued, until she could no longer bear it any more.

"I need a minute." There was an audible quiver in her voice, and though a few heads turned her way, no one questioned it. Vaggie didn't follow as Charlie moved off of the bed and towards the doorway to the room, for she knew that when her girlfriend said that, it was best to let her be for the time being.

And besides, even she was more concerned with the whimpering mess next to her.

As Charlie made her way out of the room, her main destination was her own bedroom. More specifically, an item on her nightstand.

Charlie wasted no time, ever stride made with purpose.

She was not going to tolerate whatever was going on, and she knew just who could figure out something like this. At least, hopefully.

She didn't want to have to pull out the big guns.

Storming into her room, she spotted her target on the nightstand, and wasted no time in picking up her phone, opening it up and scrolling through the contacts… until she found just who she was looking for.

HELSA VON ELDRITCH

A/N: And that's the chapter. Now you all have a glimpse into how John got his ungodly strength, and how much trauma he really carries with him.

Also, this is leading into Seviathan's earlier appearance at the Hotel, because believe me when I say: shit is going to get ugly, very fast.

Next up: The Hotel has a visitor, and a revelation with less than pleasant implications comes to light.

P.S: The incantation Alastor gives is a google translation to Latin, and it roughly translates to "Open the mind, allow the psyche, enter mind, take what's not right"