Theresa never seemed to have any dreams. In fact, she hadn't had a single dream that she could remember. It probably didn't help that she had no memories of anything prior to working for the Negaverse, but regardless, she simply closed her eyes, and when her lashes fluttered open again it was morning. Her consciousness seemed to have no awareness when she slept, or that she simply forgot her dreams, others might reason.

Theresa Killingworth had theories of her own, however. In her own strange thoughts, she had come to believe that she dreamed every single night, but of the same dream. Standing in the pitch black of the void, only being unaware of herself there. And that was it.

Tonight, however, was different from her usual dreamless nights. Tonight, she felt herself standing there in that dark blanketed world. Her eyes seemed to reflect the same nothingness that surrounded her, and as she stepped forward, her feet made no sound for they were stepping on nothing. It was rather like walking on air, only in dreams you never seem to breath, so it was likely more accurate to say that there was no air.

Thusly she walked. Time plays funny tricks in dreams; often times one awakens and dreams flit teasingly away, or tickle the edges of your mind, either of which makes it feel that time simply flew by. When within the dream, however, it feels like eternity.

Tisiphone's feet quickened (when had she turned into her senshi form?), and soon she was in a full run. Silence filled her ears and her feet began to waver until she fell to her knees, crying without tears. And then she laughed. Her head was bowed down, her shoulders shuddering with her silent laughter. As the last bits of her laughter faded away, she leaned back and stared upwards - or rather whatever direction up might be.

Why was there no end? Why couldn't she get out? Her hands clutched at her chest; she was naked now, blonde hair flowing all around her, a dark scar embedded deeply on her chest. Her fingers began to claw at the scar, sinking in slowly. The only sense she could feel now was that burning pain that seemed to flow through her veins. She didn't even have enough memory for a deja vu moment.

Pale hands were held before her, grinning at the success of pulling out her own star--seed? Her hands had come out empty. Did she drop it? She stood up and swung around, looking left, then right. Where did she drop it? She started screaming, but could only hear the sound of silence.

Darkness started to fade into something that was more of an almost-darkness, and Theresa realized she was staring at the ceiling. She sat up slowly, arms wrapping around one another in a subconscious effort to comfort herself. If that was the only dream that she would ever have in her life time, she would be quite fine with not repeating the experience.