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Fear. Currently no recorded interactions with subject or others. Personality: unconfirmed.
Known facts: jealous of humans. Hates all humans. Takes it out on Amy.




Gremlin. Fear of fun. Likes candy. Likes Faust. Jealous of Amy.

Doesn't like the attention Faust shows Amy. Ignores the fact that Faust hates Amy.

Amy, her green eyes wide, clutched her leather-bound book to her chest.

The footsteps grew louder.

Her heartbeat raced.

The person came closer.

Her hands shook. The book clattered to the floor.

The light hit the person's face.



A brunet young man pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Hey,” he said.

Amy stammered, “Hey.”

He raised a brown eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. A blush spread across her cheeks. “I thought you were something else.”

“You’re white as a cadaver. What’d you think I was?” he asked.

“I meant someone else. Not something.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Isn’t school on right now?”

“Yup.” A large grin curved his mouth. “Field trip.”

“You still have field trips? I haven’t had one for years.”

He shrugged. “Anatomy class. We’re at the hospital looking at bodies. What’re you doing here?”

“Oh. My grandmother’s sick. I came to talk to her, only I can’t find her room.”

His arm gestured vaguely. “Ask one of the docs. They’ll tell you where she is. In fact, I saw one down the hall. I’ll get her for you-“

“Don’t!”

He blinked twice.

“I mean, uh, I’ll find her myself.”

“Okay.” He handed her the fallen leather-bound book and patted her shoulder. “Hey, don’t faint, okay? Get one of the docs here to look at you. You look sick or something.”

She bit her lip, clutching her book to her chest. “Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

Amy sighed, clutching her books to her chest. The day was long, and she didn't want to go to anatomy class. It wasn't her favorite class, by any means, but today it was worse than usual. Today was dissection day.

She loitered for a few minutes in front of the classroom. Other students trickled inside the room while she shuffled her feet and glanced around the emptying hallway. Finally, she couldn't put it off any more. She had to go inside or else she'd be late.

Taking a deep breath, Amy entered the room.

The pungent air of preservatives clashed against her, making vomit rise suddenly from her throat. She took a step back, breathing in a bit of the hallway's fresh air, before walking over to her dissection table. She, placing her books underneath the table, organized the supplies she would need that dissection day. Newspapers, tweezers, gloves-

"Scalpels," a deep voice whispered over her shoulder.

The other students were all on the other side of the room, pulling out their half-dissected cat specimens.

"Who else uses scalpels?" the voice continued, still from over her shoulder.

Her green eyes darted toward the voice.

No one was there.

"Who else cuts open flesh?"

"Where are you?" she asked.

A schoolmate, giving her a weird look, pointed at himself with a latex-gloved hand. She shook her head and gave a sheepish grin. She mouthed, "Not you." He shrugged, pulling his cat out of its clear plastic bag.

"Who uses scalpels to sever living flesh?"

A hand tapped her shoulder.

She whirled around.

Her teacher frowned at her. "You haven't started yet," she noted. "Is there a problem?"

The voice asked, "Do you have a problem?"

"That voice, who is it?" Amy asked.

Her teacher raised a blonde eyebrow. "My voice? It's mine, obviously."

"No, the other one."

"What other one?"

Amy's brown eyebrows furrowed.

"Take care of yourself, Parker," the teacher said, before moving on to the next dissection table.

"Take care of yourself," the voice echoed.

Amy sighed, shaking her head. She would not act weird. She couldn't. Her homeroom teacher had already asked her who she was talking to that morning, and that was embarrassing enough. These nightmares were just making her low on sleep, so she was hearing things. That was it. She didn't need everyone at school thinking she was crazy.

She gathered up her books, glancing back at her homeroom teacher, before she left the room. The halls were crowded, and immediately leaving the classroom she collided with a brunet.

His books flew everywhere.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Amy said, and she quickly helped the underclassman gather up his books. She left quickly, her cheeks already tinting pink. Just another person who would think she was a loser. She didn't mean to be so absentminded, but that was all she had been of late.

Stopping quickly at her locker, she switched her books for math class. She had already been late yesterday, and Mister Cost would not be happy with her if she was late again. He taught many classes, and his sixth hour honors class had been giving him heck as of late, so he was always in a bad mood during her academic first hour class. She wasn't good at math, anyway, so she was skating on thin ice with the man. The now-constant bags forming under her eyes had already convinced him she was a chronic drug abuser.

She slid into her seat the moment before the bell rang, and Mister Cost glared at her. He tapped his ruler on the chalkboard, before turning and writing an equation on the board.

He glanced back at his students. "Class, can anyone tell me what this means?"

Amy crouched lower in her chair, trying to subtly slide as far underneath her desk as she could without being noticed.

Mister Cost's eyes darted over the students again. No one raised their hands. A spasm of irritation crossed his face. He tapped the ruler on the chalkboard. "Students, I asked if anyone could tell me what this means?"

"Hello, again."

Amy sat up straight in her chair, her green eyes swiveling around the room. Just like always, no one was there. She needed to get more sleep, fast.

A slightly sadist smile twisted Mister Cost's mouth. "Amy, what is the answer to this question?" he asked.

"Uh, I'm um, not really sure," Amy said. Her face heated up, and she sunk into her seat.

Mister Cost said, "I taught all of you this last week." A few students giggled, glancing back at Amy. "Parker, are you simply being insolent?"

"N- no, sir."

"Pick up your books and go to the principal. I will not allow such lazy disrespect in my class."

Amy sighed, gathering her books. For the last few weeks, that one voice had been terrorizing her. She just wanted to be able to get a good night's sleep.

After all, the voice was merely irritating during the day. At night it stopped being irritating.

That's when it became a nightmare.

His pale hand trailed through the teenager's long wavy brown hair, testing for its texture. A chuckle escaped his lips. His fingers drifted to her face, gently running along the curve of her cheekbone and traveling to finger her ear. She stirred slightly, and his fingers froze. A small sigh left her mouth, and she shifted onto her side. He brushed stray hairs from her face, his diluted robin blue eyes trailing over her features like a hawk scrutinizes its prey. "She's so unusual. Her skin is so soft and breakable. Her mortality is every so evident in every part of her."

A small irritated sigh left his companion, and she impatiently swished her green and yellow tail. "Come on, Faust," the rodent-like creature whined, her claws curling in the light blue bedsheets. "Oh course she's like that. She's human, after all. Now let's get out of here, please? You've seen her. Isn't that enough? Just poke a few holes in her arm and be done with it."

"You are far too impatient. To cause her the most pain, I must first observe her and learn the most about her."

"What. Ever." She lifted her yellow nose in the air, sniffing disdainfully. "She's still a human, and her odor's making my fur crawl." She shook herself, swiping a multi-colored claw at her right ear. "It's like there are bugs all over me. I hate bugs. The only thing I hate more than bugs are humans. They're so filthy and nasty."

He picked up a dark gray clipboard from Amy's bed stand. His diluted blue eyes glanced around the room, and he jotted down a few notes on the clipboard. "It will only take a few more moments to finish the observations."

"Fine. It had better take only that long. Or else my fur'll start falling off. Humans are so vile smelling." She pawed at the sheets, ripping them slightly with her claws. "None of the others had to study their humans first, you know."

"Things are better done with research. All great and terrible things come from the result of fine planning and skillful execution."

"Hmph. Or maybe you're just weird like that." She turned around and laid down on the blue bedsheets. Her head rested on her paws, and an aggravated sigh escaped her. Her ears drooped, and she sulked.

He ignored her, continuing to record his observations. He could deal with Fluffy later.

Now was the time for research.

The red flickering went out, and it stayed out.

Amy's eyebrows furrowed, and she slowly approached where the light had been. She glanced around the paved street, being carefully aware of her surroundings. There was no telling where this street was, or how she had gotten there. It must all be a dream. People don't randomly find themselves out in the middle of nowhere, do they? No, they don't. At least they didn't in Amy's experience.

The light flickered on again, this time brighter than before.

Amy paused. Why had it done that?

A gloved hand grabbed her arms, sliding down her forearms to grasp her wrists together behind her back. Another gloved hand held her head in place, preventing her from turning around.

"What's going on?" Amy asked, struggling to glance behind her at her captor. The grip on her wrists tightened.

"You should keep still." The voice was the same one she had heard before in her head, only this time it was much deeper and louder than it had been previously when she had heard it.

"Who are you?" she asked.

A dry chuckle echoed throughout the abandoned street.

"Where is this place?"

"Welcome to Operis," the voice said. The person shifted, letting go of her head for a moment to stab something into her arm, before returning his hand to hold her head in place.

All Amy could see was the blood-filled syringe leaving her arm. She struggled against his grip, trying to see more, but the syringe disappeared out of sight, and his hand tightened its grip on the top of her head.

A colorful blur dashed in front of her, and tiny teeth tore her glasses off her face. A high-pitched chuckle echoed from the ground. "Got it. Now it's your turn, Faust."

"That sounds absolutely delightful."