Hitomi screamed, clamping her hands over her ears as though that would block out the sounds and sights inside her mind. 'No...' she whimpered softly. 'Stop it, Van... Please stop...' She sobbed, letting her knees buckle as she fell to the floor and crouched there, shaking.

She could see the wooly carpet and the bed and the walls and the vanity stand around her. She could see all of this but at the same time she could see fire and blood and steel and death. She could hear the screams of the injured and dying ringing in her ears.

But it was so much worse than that.

She could feel them dying. She could feel hot metal slicing through them. She could feel the terror as they realized they couldn't block this coming blow. She could feel the rage and the excitement and the bloodlust. She could feel the trill of adrenaline and absolute joy of killing another being.

She screamed and crumpled in on herself. And then there was Van. More than anybody else on that battlefield she could feel him. She could see more clearly through his eyes than her own. She could feel the pump of his heart and the elation. The elation. He was enjoying it. He was enjoying fighting. Enjoying killing.

At first his mind had been filled with thoughts of protecting. Then there was revenge. Now there was only fighting. Only killing. Hitomi screamed. Her scream was matched.

She gasped and looked up, searching for the other person who had cried out. She was looking at Escaflowne. At Van. At him advancing on her to kill her. She was fighting him and he was pushing her back. 'VAN, NO!' she screamed hysterically. 'STOP IT! PLEASE STOP IT!'

She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed tightly shut and screamed out, entreating anyone that would hear her. 'MAKE IT STOP!'

Her scream became wordless and echoed from another throat. Terror filled her, and the need to reach safety. Security. Comfort.

888

To be continued in:

Masks

Part Three: Waking Dream