Annette's hands rose; there were many. Some were made of wood, others of smoke, and two were pristine, glossy hands that looked silky smooth. Her hands swarmed around the crystal ball, not touching it but not leaving its side either.

"Look into the ball. What can you see?"

Cain narrowed his eyes. He tried to peer into the depths of the orb but found only its cloudy surface.

"It's foggy. I think you need to polish it."

Madam Annette laughed at his response. "Of course, it's foggy, haha." However, she regained composure almost instantly, her seriousness causing Cain's spine to curl. "This is the Dream Realm, and dreams are not normally supposed to be traveled by consciousness. It is the subconscious that has the most power here. People are easily affected by their emotions; they can mess up or, even worse, create something that shouldn't be imagined."

"So? I was talking about the glass ball."

Letting out a slight chuckle, Annette once again directed Cain to the crystal ball.

"I use such a foggy object not for you to use your eyes, but your mind. As I said before, the subconscious rules in this place and mirrors are the doorway to our nightmares. Only reflective objects created by specialized producers will not cause such effects. I am not one of those people; hence, you must not see with sight, but with the mind."

Getting schooled, Cain spoke, almost producing a low growl. "Fine."

"Good. Now look, with your mind, heart, every sense except your sight."

Cain did as she said, closing his eyes and attempting once again to peer into the orb. As he did his head began to feel fuzzy.

After a while, he could hear Madam Annette's shocked voice. "T-That's enough."

Opening his eyes, Cain stared at the orb. Nothing seemed to have happened.

"Hey, wasn't that supposed to do something?"

Directing his sight to Annette, he saw her holding a ball of smoke; it was dark red, almost like a blood-red moon.

"Ah, well, it was... it was a conduit."

"A conduit?"

Manipulating the smoke, she pulled out a black strand. Simply looking at it riled fear in Cain's heart.

'Fear? ....How long has it been?'

"What's that?"

"Confirmation. But, I must say, you have a very evil nature. Your soul is stained...in blood; I... I can almost hear the agonizing screams of those you've killed."

Cain scoffed. "Well, you shouldn't be going through private stuff like that. Anyway, what's the confirmation?"

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Ahem. Yes, this confirms you are indeed infected. It's not that bad though, as long as you stay out of the lower levels, it should vanish in a decade or two."

"A decade! I can't wait that long! Can't you get rid of it?"

Annette stood up. "No, I cannot. Nightmares are something I doubt even some Dream Masters can fully erase. They prey on imagination, after all. Nightmares are the corruption and horrid twisting of Dream. It is the opposite of all that which is good, yet it is not bad either. Simply, Nightmares are better left untouched, the conscious mind cannot handle them."

"So that's it then? I have to wait or become a shade?"

Walking to the door, she nodded. "Yes, you will also get a craving for... well, people. Everyone here houses imagination; the infection will want to feed on it to grow, so when that feeling comes about, refuse that dark desire. Other than that, you'll be fine."

Opening the door, unlike before, there was no rope on the other side high above the city. The exit seemed to enter an alley.

"Leave, sir. I have done as requested. If you need any help in the future, bring Dream Pills as payment."

...

After being kicked out by Madam Annette, Cain walked from one dark alley to another.

'Damn it. That didn't help at all! Who does she think she is! Well... she's at least a warden, I think.... how long would it take to kill her?'

Cain imagined cans to kick, watching them roll and knock into walls as he stepped in puddles of different liquids; some were from water, others from slime, and some were even oil and grease.

'Such an odd place. Ugh! I'm sick of it. Why can't I go back down? What's so bad about becoming a Nightmare anyway?'

Cain found himself wandering into an unknown dead-end. Unlike the rest of the alleyways, this place was clean and level, as if no one had ever stepped foot there.

"This spot must be a mistake, not enough subconscious meddling to be as disgusting as the rest of this place! Hah..."

Putting his back to the concrete wall, or maybe a wall made of some weird material like hardened toothpaste, Cain slowly slid down until he was sitting against the wall.

"What was it that she said... mirrors were the doorway to our own Nightmares... what a load of bullshit. I've never heard of that saying before; I bet it wouldn't even be as bad as she said."

As if answering his challenge, or maybe Cain himself creating the challenge, a black mirror instantaneously appeared in the alley.

It was embroiled with skulls and depictions of war around its frame, and its surface was like water; it almost looked like ripples were surfacing throughout its clear reflection.

Looking up at it, Cain stared at the reflection in the water-like mirror. It stared right back, yet unlike him... it was standing up with a grin.

...

Taking a sip of green tea, just like the color of the half-moon on his forehead, Cain was lounging in his Hunting Party's headquarters... if it could be called that.

Since he wasn't ready to hunt yet, Evette imagined a wondrous machine before the Hunting squad went down to the deeper levels. From what she said, it was called a TV, and it held wondrous things that Cain couldn't take his eyes off of.

He spent the entire afternoon watching shows while drinking all sorts of unhealthy drinks and eating processed foods, all of which were thanks to Evette and her wonderful imagination!

However, as Cain lounged, he felt a weird tingling sensation, with a tugging feeling escaping from his mind.

'Hmm? That's strange, I feel... weaker? The mist seems, hollow? Did that bastard do something?'

Cain sat on the couch and thought for a moment. What could this mean?

'Wait... did that bastard leave the Dream Realm? Did he forget to eat the pills? Oh no! Am I trapped here?!'

Cain's imagination went wild with what could have been the cause. It got so bad he began to accidentally create images and paintings of all the weird things his other self could have done that resulted in such a terrible result.

'He can't die; he isn't an idiot! ...But what can I do? Damn it! I guess if he did die, my mission is over? No! He can't possibly die; this must all be a trick. Yeah, that's it, I won't fall for it, I won't!'

Cain sunk deeper into the couch, gripping the remote as sweat dripped from his palms.

'Everything will be fine, everything is fine... Now back to TV!'