Chapters Chapter I
“Bad Dreams”
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“There are too many, we can’t hold for much longer!”
“Just a bit more...come on...”
“Princess! We have to get moving!”
“T-the...gotten throu...seal the doors...get Pr........una to Bas.....”
“They’re in the Hall!”
“Princess!”
“Get out of the way!”
“Twilight! No...!”
“Leave her, we have to go!”
“No.....!”
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Gasp!
Jeremy grabbed his chest. His heart was racing. Another bad dream... he thought. That made seven this week.
He glanced at the clock. It read 3:02 AM. “Great,” he said to himself, “another three hours of restless sleep.” He laid back down. Maybe if he shut his eyes, he could go back to sleepland. The warm bed enveloped him, the hand of sleep closing his eyes and taking over his body.
Beep...beep...beep...beep....be-
Jeremy sat up. His dreamless sleep of the three hours didn’t help him feel any more refreshed. In fact, he felt more tired than he did before. Nevertheless, he had things to do today.
Throwing back the covers and going to the bathroom, Jeremy followed the daily routine of the average middle-class human: brushing his teeth, showering, getting dressed, and eating breakfast.
The 21-year old got into his black, old, and rusty commutormobile. The paint was coming off, the handle stuck, and the tires hadn’t been replaced since what seemed like the stone age. He turned the keys and started up the old, worn out engine. He made a mental note to buy gas on his way home.
He worked at a local coffee shop, a part-time turned full-time job running the machines, making coffee, and using the cash register. He loved his job. He met so many interesting people who wanted specific coffees every morning. Susan, a bioengineer, was working on making a robot arm that has an extender to help the elderly and disabled reach things easier. Jack, a musician, worked on a composition he was writing for his best friend’s wedding. and Celeste, a general leader of sorts, ran anything that she could, let it be a business, hot dog stand, or a television station. She liked being in charge.
“Have a rough night?” Peter, his co-worker, asked.
“Yeah, more bad dreams,” Jeremy replied.
“Same one?”
“Every night.”
“You should see a doctor about that. Maybe something’s troubling you and you don’t even know it.”
Jeremy thought about that throughout the day. A doctor, huh... He really didn’t care for psychology. Things could be worked out through hard work and seat. At least, that’s what his dad always told him.
Finally leaving work at five in the afternoon, he headed home. A long day, no business, and an empty house to go to. But today seemed a little different somehow. Something was going on, he could feel it.
When Jeremy got home, there was a note on his front door, with only a time and a place written on it. He picked it up and read:
3:02 AM. 21/3/15
13 Anderson Street
He thought that strange. 3:02, that’s the same time he got up after those nightmare. The 21st? This Saturday? Who sent this? Why? And why that old abandoned storage house? None of it made any sense. It seemed important though, so he waited until that Saturday to show up.
Chapter II
Madman
Jeremy waited all night for 3:02 to come around. He couldn't wait any longer. At two o' clock, he left his house and took the forty-five minute drive to Anderson Street. It was a calm night, no storms, lightning, or even wind. Just very calm.
When he got to Anderson Street, he noticed that the building numbers started at one. He out of car and ran down the street, counting the buildings as he ran. "ten...eleven...twelve...ah, thirteen," Jeremy panted. The buildings were about a block apart, possibly for better privacy. He checked his watch. One minute past three. Another minute passes, and a light started to shine out from the storage building. A loud, alien voice could be heard coming out of the warehouse at the same time.
"Ah, good, you showed up. I was beginning to wonder if you weren't coming.."
"Sorry," Jeremy apologised, "I didn't know that this warehouse was being used by British people..."
"Oh, right, well, since you won't remember this anyway, I'm not British, I'm Gallifreyan."
"Gallif- what?" Jeremy had never heard of such a place. It might be German, he thought.
"Oh, never mind, what matters is that you're here. Please show your I.D. to the camera."
A little black bulb shot out as he said that. I was well, round, and looked like the kind of security cameras you see in schools and shopping malls.
"I.D. card?" Jeremy asked.
"The little slip of paper that you found on your door?" the voice responded, impatiently.
Jeremy, in a moment of realisation, quickly checked his pockets. He searched frantically, checking his pants and his shirt. He then looked in his jacket, pulled out the strange paper and pressed it up against the camera thing.
A little beeping noise emitted from the camera, and then it turned a deep blue.
"Why did I need that? You knew I was here," Jeremy asked, very confused.
"Well, the paper has a certain time-space coordinate on it, and I couldn't save that into my machine here, and-" the voice seemed to stop itself. "-well, it's all very complicated. Won't you come in?"
The doors to the warehouse opened. Jeremy entered the building, and it was pitch black, except for a little metal pad on the floor. "What's this?" he asked.
"That? Well, that's an interdimensional transport calibrator, it grabs your atoms and puts them into another dimension."
"Oh..." I didn't understand a word he said...
"If you could stand on it please..."
"Wait, hold up," Jeremy stopped the voice. "Why here and now? 3:02 AM? That doesn't make any sense."
"Well," the voice started, "because there are no time fluctuations here. Nothing in the entire Universe is happening right now. It is calm everywhere. Except for us."
Jeremy stepped onto the metal plate, and buzzing and snips and other electronic noises emitted from the ceiling.
He was suddenly enveloped in a blue light.
Chapter III
Remember?
Bzzt... Brrrrt.... Zzzztt...
Jeremy woke up. Where am I? he asked himself. He took a look at his surroundings.
He was laying in the middle of a field. It was night, the moonlight shined brilliantly across the wet grass. He turned his head to the right, and he saw calm waters, almost mirror-like against the night sky. He heard shouting, from a distance and with urgency. He looked in the direction of the shouts.
What looked like an entire army was running right at him! I...I can't move... he thought as he tried to get up. He heard a loud snap right next to him.
A woman was standing over him, one with a dark blue outfit. A symbol of a crescent moon was showing on her right shoulder.
"What are you doing? Get up!" She yelled at him.
"I can't move..." he replied.
"Bah..." she muttered. "I need a medical team here, now!"
A squad of uniformed men and women came rushing to where he was laying. They put him on a stretcher, and carried him to their camp.
The camp was, well, a camp. Tents were set up everywhere, people were rushing about, and weapons were being stocked. Wait, weapons? he questioned to himself, are they at war? The medical team continued to run, bringing him to what seemed like the end of the camp. He saw guns being plished, tested, and reloadedd. He wondered who they were fighting.
Jeremy was suddenly dropped, and a whole arsenal of medical devices were taped, placed, inserted, and even glued to his body.
"Sir? Sir? Are you okay? Do you know your name?" one asked.
"I'm...I'm... I don't know..." he stuttered out. Who am I?...I can't remember.
The medical team stared at each other in bewilderment. One stuck an I.V. into Jeremy's arm, and Jeremy fell asleep again.
When Jeremy awoke, he noticed that he was no longer in the valley. Rather, it seemed far from it. The tent was gone, the cot was gone, the I.V. was also gone. In their place was a large, royal ceiling, a comfortable bed, and a pot of steaming tea. A cup, sitting next to the pot, was already filled, as if whomever made it expected him to wake up soon. He sat up and took a sip of the tea.
The flavor was amazing. Tang, sweetness and bitterness all hit his tongue at the same time, creating a warm taste of--
"Apples," said a southern voice. Jeremy turned his head in a surprise. The voice belonged to a girl, late teens, with jeans, a flannel shirt, and a quite recognisable hat. "Do you like it?" She asked, "I made it myself."
"Um," he responded, attention back on the tea, "yeah, it's great. Who are you?"
"Name's Applejack," she replied, standing up and tipping her hat, "what's yours?"
"I'm..." he stuttered. His mind was blank. "My name is... I don't know..." Why am I drawing a blank?
"Ho, dear," Applejack muttered. "Well, better get the Princess, then."
"What? Princess?" Jeremy quickly licked his hand and smoothed his hair down.
Applejack ran out of the room to supposedly get a princess. Jeremy took this opportunity to look around the room.
The bed was huge, probably bigger than a king-sized one. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, with crystals hanging from seemingly random points on it. A gigantic mirror was behind where Applejack was sitting.
For the first time that morning, he looked at his clothes. they were a soft silk, a deep blue, and had a crescent moon on the upper left corner of the shirt. He heard footsteps coming from the other side of the door and stood in front of it.
The door opened.
