The Final Nightmare

There was nothing. He felt nothing. He heard nothing. He saw nothing. He smelled nothing. He sensed…nothing.

It was darkness, darkness stretching all around on all sides, up and down, left and right, straight and across…darkness…

Then, suddenly, something materialized. Just barely, on the edge of reality, he could start to feel something around him. At first, it was transparent. Then it grew more and more visible, and clearly present. It was gray. It was flat. It was dull. It was featureless.

It was a hallway.

A long, long, dark, depressing hallway. On all sides, he was surrounded by a solid metal, very dull, but at the same time with its own strange eminence of pristine and beauty. A dark kind of beauty. A silent kind of beauty.

The metal hallway stretched on, impossibly endless, ahead of him. He turned to look behind him, but saw only more hallway. However, he noticed that, on both sides, stretching just as far as the hallway itself, there were metal doors. Door after door after door after door after door…after door.

He willed his hardest to move and, surprisingly, found himself perfectly capable of mobilizing in this particular instance, unlike the two previous encounters. He moved one foot in front of the other, bringing it down onto the metal floor. There was no sound. No slight thump of his foot on the metal, no feeling as his foot touched its cold, hard surface. It was as if he was stepping on cotton…no, softer…as if he was stepping on a cloud. It looked so dull and despondent, yet felt so light and distant.

He moved in this fashion to the nearest door, on his left. It was the same kind of metal, only setback and slightly darker. There was a single handle on it. He reached for the handle.

Then it was gone. The handle was gone.

He hadn't even blinked. The handle hadn't sunk into the metal, or vanished in a cloud of smoke. It was just gone.

Then, strangely, the door itself started to move towards him. Instinctively, he backed away.

The door moved forward, aligning itself with the rest of the wall and leaving behind its frame. Just as it was perfectly aligned with the wall itself, the crevices between wall and door seemed to mold over themselves, filling in the gaps and causing the door to completely and seamlessly blend in with the rest of the wall. The door was gone.

He turned around sharply to face the next nearest door, slightly further down and on the opposite side. He quickly strode up to it and reached for the handle. This time, he managed to touch it.

However, the same thing happened a second time. The handle vanished just like that.

Then the door slowly moved forward once again, blending in with the rest of the wall just like the previous one, until it was completely blended in.

He turned and faced down the hall. To his horror, the same thing started happening to every other door, as far down as he could see. The handles vanished instantly, and the doors slid forward and blended in. He spun around, watching as all of the doors in the other direction behind him did the exact same.

Now he was locked in a massive, empty, metal hallway with no way out. He realized that the only features left in the entire, endless hallway were two light bulbs in the ceiling.

Then, slowly and surely, he heard something. A deep, terrifying sound.

A humming. A deep, low, approaching humming. That humming, that humming, that humming.

It was all too familiar. Sly desperately and frantically covered his ears, but it was no use.

He could only listen, squeezing his eyes shut as the humming grew louder. Louder, louder…louder.

Then, suddenly, he felt a strange vibration, below him, above him, all around him. Everything around him was steadily and surely vibrating. He slowly opened his eyes and removed his hands from his ears. At first it was a rather gentle kind of vibration, slightly soft and almost relaxing.

Then it started to get slightly rougher. At the same time, the humming started to get louder. That humming…that vibrating…that humming…that vibrating…

Then, before he knew it, something strange was happening. Just as the vibrating reached point where he was barely able to stand up straight, he could hear the humming slowly and surely transition to something else. A new sound. A groaning. The long, hard, deep groaning of metal. That groaning…that groaning…that groaning…

Then he felt another kind of movement shaking him, and it wasn't the vibrations. He looked down and saw that the metal floor directly beneath him was moving. It was moving straight forward from underneath him. He looked around frantically, and saw both walls and the ceiling were doing the same. They were moving away from him, pulling further out into endlessness. However, they weren't moving normally. They weren't sliding along smoothly. It was as if they were stretching. Yes, stretching as if it was a kind of liquid, stretching out from underneath him and moving further down the hall.

He could feel the floor beneath him growing unstable, his feet sinking into the now liquid-like floor as if it was sand.

Then, just as he felt that he was about to completely fall through, he stopped where he was. By this time, the hall had completely stretched away from him. He turned around, but saw only blackness once again. He looked back. The liquid sections of the hall were as far back as they could go, but they didn't stop there. They started to envelop the solid sections, spreading over it and turning the whole hall into a liquid metal.

He watched as the hall, now a long, hollow, empty metal rectangle, slowly started to transform. It started to spread out as it became more of a liquid, stretching out before him. At the same time, the humming started to change and become more of a beat. Hum-hum, hum-hum, hum-hum…

And even though he was no longer standing on the metal, he could still feel the violent vibrating jolting him up and down.

Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, the end of the hallway appeared and drew closer, as the walls of the hall continued to spread out more. At the same time, the two lone light bulbs drew closer to each other, moving closer until they were right next to each other. Then they slowly moved around until they were now side-by-side, both clearly in his view rather than one. Even then, they started to spread out even further, moving farther away from each other.

Hum-hum, hum-hum, hum-hum…

Then, as the hallway stretched out farther on each side, it also started stretching out on the bottom, too. From the bottom of the liquidized hall, two appendages stretched out, with two balls at the end of small stems. Then the two balls split open, turning into strange claws. Then the claws split apart into smaller sections, becoming multiple claws with sharp tips.

The sides of the liquidized hall continued stretching out, farther and farther. Both were now flat, blank rectangles on each side. However, at the end of each rectangle, the edges slowly started to peel away from the bottom and work its way up, the ends turning into slanted pieces of metal, each with a 45-degree angle. Then, long ridges started to appear in each of the rectangles, the first one appearing at the very end, slashing from top to bottom as it appeared. The next appeared by slashing bottom to top. The ridges appearing on the other one followed the exact same pattern. Top to bottom, bottom to top, top to bottom, bottom to top.

Hum-hum, hum-hum, hum-hum, hum-hum…

Then, strangely, the hum-humming started to stretch out, with the sounds getting longer and more stretched out, like the hall itself was. It sounded as if something was hindering the length of the sounds to make them longer, the first hum always being longer than the second.

Huuum-hum, huuum-hum, huuum-hum…

As the ridges finally lined both sides of the hallway, and the appendages on the bottom stretched out, exposing all of its claws, the new shape of the hallway started to become painfully familiar.

The two light bulbs, now at a fair distance from each other, started to grow larger. Larger, larger, larger…they also started to grow brighter, brighter, brighter…like two eyes.

It was suddenly very clear. The long, ridged sides, the two claws at the bottom, the two yellow eyes.

He watched in mute horror as the hallway floating in a liquid form before him transformed into his long-dead mortal enemy, Clockwerk. The stretched out huuum-humming now sounded exactly like the flapping of wings, matching as his two long wings flapped up and down repeatedly.

He wanted to move. To turn around. To run away. But he couldn't. Once again, he was completely immobile.

Clockwerk started to move in closer to him, those horrible yellow eyes blinding him, forcing him to look away. But at the same time, they were their own strange kind of sanctuary, as the only source of light in this endless black void.

As he tried his hardest to focus on those horribly yellow eyes, the massive beak slowly opened, the massive metal jaws splitting apart much farther than usual. Then his head twisted to the side, briefly turning away from him.

Then, in one quick motion, the head jerked back forward, mouth wide open, and it unleashed a horrible, searing, painfully loud scream – a horrible roar that shook his entire body, and seemed to shake the endless void that he was in.

A forest in Eastern Russia; Monday, June 13, 10:06 P.M…

Just then, too perfectly, Sly's nightmare was completely shattered by a sudden explosion. At first, the explosion blended in perfectly with the roar he was hearing in his nightmare. Then it came through as something much larger and stronger. He heard the massive blast and his eyes shot open. He sat up straight, looking through the semi-transparent material of the tent. He could see the massive orange light on the other side.

In the direction of the van.

Sly jumped up and frantically unzipped the flap of the tent, throwing it aside and stepping out. Just as he feared, the old van was gone. Completely consumed in the fireball, still glowing bright and fresh as it billowed up to the sky through the clearing in the trees. Its magnificent orange glare turned the night into day for a few seconds. Pieces of metal and debris were flying in all directions, some whizzing past Sly or landing right at his feet. Soon, the orange began to give way to the black of the smoke, which continued rising as the fire continued roaring.

Immediately, Murray was out of his tent in a flash, shotgun in one hand, rifle in the other.

When he came out and saw what it was that had been hit, he dropped both firearms to the ground.

"…My van…"

He fell to his knees.

"MY…BEAUTIFUL…VAN!"

To Murray, it was the most incomprehensible thing imaginable. That his van, his precious van, had finally seen its last day. This van, which was his for almost two decades, which had seen so many battles, sped through so many chases, taken so many bullets, and had saved all of their lives on many occasions, was gone. Gone up in smoke. Literally. Right before his own eyes.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Murray screamed in agony.

Sly looked back at his friend, hung his head, then slowly turned and looked back at the van.

At that moment, as the black almost completely overtook the orange, and just as the initial shock set in and started to die down, the horrible implication finally set in.

They knew they were here.

Sly's eyes widened, just before another agonizing scream sounded.

"GUYS! SLY! MURRAY! HELP!"

It came from Bentley and Penelope's tent. Sly turned and dashed over to the tent, the flap of which was mysteriously already open, and tore through.

Bentley was lying there, just fine in his sleeping bag, the wheelchair next to him alongside all of his other equipment, which was also completely unharmed.

It took a few seconds for Sly to notice the real damage: The sleeping bag next to Bentley was empty.

"Penelope?" Sly asked nervously.

"SHE'S GONE! THEY TOOK HER!"

He walked over and picked up his partner out of the sleeping bag, easing him back into his chair. Bentley immediately wheeled out of the tent, Sly following behind him.

"PENELOPE!" Bentley called out desperately into the woods. "PENELOPE!"

The change of his voice made it clear that he was already on the verge of tears.

Meanwhile, Murray was still on his knees nearby, both guns on the ground beside him, and the van still burning.

Sly looked back and forth between the scene of complete chaos, which had been perfectly tranquil just 20 seconds ago. Bentley, frantically wheeling around alongside the edge of the woods, frantically screaming out his girlfriend's name. Murray, on his knees in the grass and sobbing loudly like he never had before. The van, still burning away and with nothing to extinguish the fire.

Sly then stopped and looked straight up at the sky. The peaceful night sky was now disrupted by the smoke, which blotted out many of the stars above.

Sly looked back down and ruffled his hair in pure fury and frustration once again.

"Oh, Penelope! Penelope…"

At long last, Murray lifted his head and turned to Sly.

"Sly…"

"ARGH!" Sly roared out. "THAT…IS…IT."

This outburst caused both Bentley and Murray to look at Sly with stunned expressions.

"That's IT. We're not sitting around here anymore. They know we're here, and this is their warning."

"So they DID see the RC chopper! Confound it! How did we not notice them spotting us?"

"Because they pretended! They pretended to not notice us! It's the only explanation! Don't you get it? They knew we were coming! They knew all along! They must have…And now they've gone and taken away our one and only mode of transportation, along with all of our communication equipment and the RC vehicles."

"At this point, I'm starting to think that calling Interpol might not have been so bad, even if we were captured." Bentley said as he sniffed and wiped at his nose with a gloved hand.

"Well, we can't now, OK? We have to handle this ourselves."

"So, what do we do?" Murray asked with obvious worry in his voice, looking back and forth between Bentley and Sly.

"They know that we're here…but they didn't take all of us. If they wanted to, they could've easily taken, or killed, us all in one strike. But they didn't. They let us live. I think they're issuing us a challenge."

"You're kidding."

"Besides that, there's still the fact that they have Penelope. We can't just let her rot there. I know that she's still alive. If they wanted to kill her, they…"

Sly's voice trailed off, and he decided to change the subject.

"They clearly want us to come to them. They're using her as bait. They're taunting us. It's like they're inviting us in."

"So? Do we do it?"

"We do what all good guests do. We accept the invitation." After a pause, Sly grinned. "Only we're not good guests, are we? No, we'll handle this like we always have in the past. After all, thieves don't use the front door, do they? They use the back door."

"So, we sneak around the back side of the Volcano or something?" Murray asked.

"Yes. They did this deliberately. They kidnapped Penelope and destroyed our van and most of our equipment. They dealt us a serious blow by doing that. Thus, they expect us to give up and surrender, walking right in there with arms thrown up in surrender. So they'll obviously be watching the front area, in front of the facility, and expect us to emerge there. They won't expect us to sneak in from the old trail we used last time."

"OK. I guess that's a good plan. But do we do it right now?" Bentley asked worriedly. "In the middle of the night?"

Sly paused, looking up at the sky through the clearing in the trees once again, with most of the stars in view still blotted out by the smoke of the slowly-dying fire.

"No. Not now. They probably expect surrender almost immediately after the attack. No. We wait. Tomorrow evening."

"Well, what do we do until then?" Murray asked, glancing back at the van nervously, with slight relief coming over his face when he saw that the flames were dying down somewhat.

"We try to get back to sleep, but I suggest that we post a guard and switch between you and me every two hours."

"Sleep? Get back to sleep?" Bentley asked incredulously. "How can we get any sleep after this?"

"You got any better suggestions?" Sly shot back. "Look, it's barely been five minutes since our whole plan was completely shot down and exploded into flames. We need time to come up with a new plan, and fast. A plan that's effective, will work, and will hopefully go against their expectations. We can't do that now. You're smart, but not smart enough to come up with a plan that fast, and under these circumstances of the immediate aftermath, are you?"

Bentley opened his mouth to speak, then slowly closed it.

"Fine."

"Good." Sly turned to Murray. "Murray, grab the guns and take the first shift."

"OK…" Murray said half-heartedly, still staring in despair at the destroyed van, even as he lazily pulled himself to his feet and picked up both weapons.

As Bentley turned and went back to his now empty tent, and Murray sat down in front of his with both guns in his hands, Sly turned and started to head back to his own tent. As he did, he slowly turned around and looked back at the van one final time. By now, the fire was almost completely gone, with smoke taking it over. It was a good thing that it died quickly, since they had no available extinguishers to put it out themselves.

Regardless, Sly couldn't help but wonder. Would all of their plans and hopes for the outcome of this situation become just like their van?

Sly turned and headed into his tent, not sure of the answer himself.

To be continued…