-As promised the next chapter is finished...

-WARNING: -Violence

-Thanks to those who added this story to their watchlist and to Talis Ruadair for her continuous reviews^^

Silently the moonlight dripped into his room, like glowing water drowning him, crushing him, leaving him in an empty space between waking and sleeping, unable to do either.

It had been like this for some days now, for a month he had endured the dreams, then he had gathered enough money to buy a cheap television, which gave him the possibility to spend his nights watching shows, waiting for the next day, the next evening, the next time he had to go to work again.

Insomnia hurt, but it was a relief from the increasingly disturbing dreams, or rather nightmares, that plagues him at night.

He didn't remember what exactly he saw, like he had with the first weird dreams that he had experienced, but the fact that he was waking every night, dripping with sweat, gasping for air, his limbs shaking, made sleep unbearable for him.

It was morning now, Warren got up from the bed and moved over to the shimmering device that came to live at his command, the only lively thing in his apartment.

He knew he couldn't stay in control forever, and it wouldn't be long for his monthly check by the Commander or Jetstream, they had agreed that the daily updates were unnecessary if they got in contact at least once in a month.

And so, Warren could just wait for noon when he had to work again.

A sudden ring startled him, like a sudden clear spot in his blurry vision, ringing in his ears even minutes after it had broken off. Slowly he got up and went towards the door.

Opening it he watched the wood moved with awe, it was truly amazing how smooth the motion was, as if the hinges were an enhancement of the human joints.

He looked towards his guest, smiling as he realized that he was only looking at himself, as if the door was actually a mirror.

"Come", his own voice demanded, Warren saw no reason to deny himself this request.

Walking down the stair, following his own figure, Warren thought about the fact that this was his free day, Wednesday, not many customers during the week, unlike Saturday, when he went to work instead.

He looked up, lying on the floor he felt something warm and wet travel down his face, turning he realized that he had reached the landing of the stairs.

Through the door, into the outside world so to say. People passed him, only shadows in his vision, faceless and irrelevant, spots where the light of the sun ceased to exist, nothing more, nothing less.

He didn't know how long he had been following this person that called itself Warren Peace, but when he finally stopped it seemed like he ha reached an important place.

He exhaled solid air, turning all the shadows around him to dist, he didn't remember what they had been anyways. And it was the fate of all things to turn into dust eventually.

With a chuckle Warren noticed that he had reached once again this place of solace, swimming in the moon that shut out the world with all its hectic and pressure.

Once again, he was perfectly tranquil, free of any emotion or sense.

He awakened to find himself lying in a bed he didn't know. Looking around he noticed sterile furniture, white walls and a big window that allowed the sun to fill the room with light.

Groaning he sat up and removed some tube that had been attached to his crook, hissing at the stinging pain that the needle caused as it left his body.

Removing the other wires connected to his arm, he tried to stand up, only to fall back onto the bed again.

Suddenly the door flew open and a nurse appeared, seemingly startled by him sitting upright in his bed: "What are you doing, you shouldn't sit yet!"

Warren arched a brow at the short woman and tried to stand up again, only to be pushed back down by the surprisingly strong nurse: "No, you have to rest some more, we will contact your guardian aright away. Stay in your bed until I return all right?"

Warren nodded, interested in who might appear, after all he had no guardian any more. Then again, he was sure his bad luck would cause either The Commander or Jetstream to appear, asking all those unnerving questions about how he had ended up here.

Warren was right as it turned out, a few moments later the nurse entered again and told him that his guardian would be on her way, a few minutes later a very stern looking Jetstream entered the room.

And as soon as the nurse left the questions came, one after another.

"What happened to you?"

Warren thought for a moment: "I don't remember.."

It was not a lie, although he had some scrappy memories, he couldn't tell what he had dreamed and what really had happened.

"Warren, we found you lying on a street near our house bleeding from your head, how did you get that wound?"

Warren closed his eyes and touched his aching forehead: "I guess I fell down the stairs when I left my apartment..."

Jetstream had sat down next to him but now she was standing up: "How did that happen?"

"I hadn't slept very much...", Warren's head hurt more every second he thought about what had happened, maybe this wasn't very wise in his current condition: "I guess I had a small qualm or something, nothing important."

"Nothing important?", he had never heard that woman becoming that rigorous, was that a sign that she actually cared? "I suppose we will continue to check on you every day from now on after all."
Warren growled: "It won't happen again all right? I'm fine on my own."

The nurse knocked and told them that Warren needed more rest now, so Jetstream left with the words: "We will continue this when you are better again."

Warren only huffed in dismissal and watched the nurse pulling some liquid into a shot.

"What is that?", he eyed the fluid substance inside the vial leery warily.

The nurse approached him, disinfecting a spot on his arm: "Only something that will let you sleep better."

"I don't want to sleep", Warren tried to withdraw his arm, but the nurse kept him firmly in place.

"I will not argue with you."

A few minutes later Warren fell into a deep slumber.

The streets were filled with people. People throwing stones, screaming at each other and nobody, smashing windows, burning cars.

It was a riot, and even the sky was flooded with the blood of those who had been killed.

Warren was standing in the midst of all this, staring at the crimson moon that seemingly enjoyed the cruelty, an unblinking eye, watching this chaos growing worse and worse.

His gaze shifted towards the street, where a homeless man tried to escape the grip of a soldier, who beat the man until nothing but a bloody pulp remained.

Warren tried to move, but his feet were unmoving, no matter how hard he tried, forcing him to watch this disaster taking truly grim features.

He heard the cry of a girl, having lost the grip on her father's hand, as a bulk of people approached, she tried to run, slipped, fell silent.

As the last people passed Warren he noticed a woman, kneeling before her adult son who had been trampled into the ground, she was watching his deformed features, her face congealed as a mask of dreadful desperation, her throat pressing out a few hysterical whimpers.

Everything was going to hell, this was not a town anymore, it was a slaughterhouse.

And then it stopped.

The people, the thrown objects, the voices, the sounds, everything fell silent, everything was perfectly still.

Warren eyed a Molotov cocktail that hovered a few centimeters aloof his eyes, even the liquid inside the bottle was as unmoving as stone.

Then he turned once more, and watched as the white figure of a human walked towards him, untouched by any dirt and strangely calm.

He knew this man, what was his name again?

"Looks like Utopia was only a dream after all, eh?", his voice strong, his steps confident, belying his empty, blind eyes, "But a beautiful dream nonetheless, don't you think so, Warren?"

He didn't move after he woke, letting his heartbeat slow down, his breath calm, letting his body realize that he only had a nightmare.

As soon as he somewhat recovered he heaved the blanket off his upper body and sat up, slowly accustoming to the bright sunlight that hit his eyes.

How long had he been out? And more importantly, what were these people doing in his room, sitting at a table and playing cards?

"You are awake", First she invaded his dreams, now she invaded his room. And she brought her friend with her, "We thought we'd pay you a visit, but you were sleeping so we got bored."

Warren groaned: "And exactly why would you want to visit me?"

"Because it seemed fun, I've never been to a hospital before. Gotta take every opportunity you get", she said factually, laying another card on the table as she spoke.

Warren rubbed his head, he was better now, maybe he could actually stand up this time.

His knees were still shaky, but he managed to hold himself upright and turned towards his 'guests' who were watching him interestedly.

"We found you on the street and called an ambulance", Layla explained.

Warren huffed, a faint smile on his face, so that's why the Strongholds were informed.

"You looked terrible", this was the second time that the Stronghold kid talked to him, apparently he had overcome the shock of their first encounters, "What happened?"

This question again, Warren didn't know exactly what had happened himself, how should he explain it to others?
"I don't know", He walked around his bed and sat on the mattress, facing the other two, "And I don't need everyone making a fuss about it."

Layla shifted on her chair, as did Warren, until they sat in a somewhat triangle, which made Warren feel somewhat nervous.

He was not used to talking to people like this, with no real subject, just for the sake of conversation, it was somewhat unsettling, although he had to admit that it wasn't all that bad.

However, after a few minutes a nurse dropped in and informed them that the visiting hours were over, so the two of them left, leaving Warren exhausted and reluctant to go back to sleep again.

After a little while another nurse came and administered him the soporific. A few hours later his mind was filled with dark images and visions, once again caught in a nightmare.

Note: I have no intention to produce violence porn, I just felt the need to emphasize why exactly Warren is so appalled by his nightmares.

I'll begin writing the next chapter after my next exam the day after tomorrow...