Nightmares never got old. Never seemed to run out of new things to scare with. Otto grew up experiencing night terrors, nightmares and just plain bad dreams. Deus had nurtured that, and intensified them tenfold. With every new terror their job provided, it fuelled the imagination that fed his dreams. He could never get used to them. Who would?

He finally found out from a passing hunter what day it was after being released from the infirmary. That damned little moon hunter tucking him and Gale in made them think they'd been out cold for six months. What kind of nasty prank was that? Still, it wasn't important in the long run. What mattered was the mission and how utterly useless it all seemed to be. Had it served Deus any purpose? Sending him and Gale to some lunatic asylum for children? What were the results besides killing a dream thing and freeing the souls of dead children? If it had been a Halloween or Horsemen influenced plot, had they stuck a wrench in the plans or what?

He'd never know. He was only ever left with questions, not answers. And no one to go to. No one to ask. Mark was an idiot, and Caelius would either kill him or send him to the Sahara to die.

Otto hated his life.

So when he reached his room, he knew what would happen if he slept. Same thing that happened most nights he fell asleep. He knew what waited for him. He didn't forget what he'd seen back there. That hand from the sky, the evil red core that almost crushed him. And more eerie, the caged figure that wanted out. As for the girl in the white dress? It wasn't a worry in his mind. He felt she was important somehow, but it was just another puzzle piece he didn't have a pair to.

Still, despite knowing this, despite the anxiety of knowing what waited for him in rest, he got himself to bed. Sure, he'd been out cold for two days, according to a calendar. That didn't stop his body from getting tired after a days work. Despite it all, he was out like a light when his head hit the pillow.

There was darkness all around, save for a red spot light where Otto stood. Just ahead, reflected from the light he stood in he saw the bars of a cage. Otto was already on edge. The dark was never kind to him. Since he was little, it always held danger. It's something he feared more than anything. The dream was almost lucid, though he couldn't move. Everything seemed definite. Solid. At least the things he could see.

A sudden noise and vibration came as a gnarled hand burst through the bars of the cage, reaching out for Otto. He was only a few feet from where it stood. His breath held in his throat, unable to look away or run. The hand couldn't reach him, and curled back around the bars. Glowing red eyes burned through the dark, narrowing at the boy who stood so free outside it's confines.

"Once I'm free, nothing will survive." He could almost see it grinning, it's orbs for eyes growing large and terrifying. "Not you, not.. anyone. Nothing. Deus will burn. The world will burn."

"I will break free. I will destroy everything."

Suddenly Otto did find himself running, the spot light of red helpfully plotting his course. The figure behind him bellowed in cruelly, cold laughter. Sound was snuffed out with a single breath heard from just behind his ear.

Light was gone. Darkness took over.

Otto screamed, suddenly down on the floor, crouched and afraid. He held his hands over his ears, crying aloud. He hoped if he just kept crying, anything that could harm him wouldn't be heard. If he can't hear them, maybe they wouldn't exist.

But even his own voice went silent, and everything became cold. He felt breath on his neck, making him lift his head with sudden motion.

"Let me out." Said the voice, crisp and cool in Otto's ear.

Otto screamed out again, but this time, he was in his bed, safe and sound. He breathed rapidly, staring up at the ceiling lit with the light of many night lights. They littered his room, on any stable surface. He was never without them. They made sure he was never in darkness, even while he slept. Sweat beaded down his face as he suddenly rose up, his arms wrapped around his stomach tightly.
What had he seen back there with Gale? Did it mean anything? Or was it just part of that illusionary world they'd destroyed? It felt like an omen. It felt bad. He felt.. haunted. Maybe he should ask Gale if he knew anything. Maybe they should look for a solution together. Right. Gale was the whole reason he'd been on that God-forsaken mission in the first place.

Otto groaned, a weak and miserable sound escaping his throat as he flopped back down into his pillows. One day, just one time, he'd love to know what good dreams felt like.