1 Chapter 1

Dreams are sometimes said to be an extended reality. By this description, dreams are your conscience being or soul, whatever you prefer, drifting off to another reality in a place either very similar or very different to your familiar world. More widely accepted beliefs state that dreams are only your minds way of releasing or experiencing again a strong feeling or experience. Regardless of your belief, dreams can be considered an essential part of our humanity.

Jason McNair always found himself wondering if he was awake or dreaming. The difference was almost always indecipherable for him. Still, even with this uncertainty always plaguing him, he could feel nothing but peace right now. Dressed in a suit one would say looked like a cross between a light gray outfit resembling that of a ninja and that of a samurai. Dark black leather straps wrapped tightly around his wrists, shins, and waist, he stood staring at a beautiful forest ahead. The grass and trees seemed unaffected by man. This place bore no markings of a human civilization, but instead had a radiance about it that made it feel, for lack of a better description, heavenly. Jason wanted to step forward and explore this forest, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything as of now. He could only watch as the wind gently shook the trees so the branches and leaves danced in front of him as if they were moving with the enchanting sounds coming from within the forest. It sung to him, and he fell in love with the forest.

Coming from deep within the forest, a voice beckoned him, "Jason." in a melancholic, yet harmonizing voice.

The awareness he usually possessed came back to him almost immediately after hearing this, and he started his long walk. One foot led the way, and the other followed suit. He felt drawn to the voice that called his name. It wasn't any ordinary voice. This voice was the voice of nature, the only way to describe it in his mind. It was a combination of wind blowing, leaves rustling, and birds chirping, yet it formed an unmistakable name. Closer and closer the voice sounded as he walked.

Instinct told him to snap out of it, he must be dreaming, but he wanted to go further. His feet, completely bare of any covering, felt the grass and dirt pulling him closer to the voice as well. It almost felt like he was being guided by the forest itself. The closer he got, the more he felt peace. It was almost as if his years of stress and trauma were slowly being lifted away from him. No longer did he feel as if 100 pounds of pressure sat on his chest. The voice was still echoing his name, but it started to sound less like nature and more like a person, a female. Her voice became clearer and clearer to him. He hardly noticed the winged, white horse with the glittering gold horn coming towards him from his right. He was so drawn to the voice and the relief he felt, he hardly cared to look in the direction of the creature of legend and the several other fantastic things coming from the thick forest. The voice got even closer, it felt as though he would see the source at any second.

Then, something unexpected happened. Instead of seeing the source of the voice or even hearing it, the pressure on his chest came back. Years of anxiety and pain all came rushing back at once as the fantastic creatures fled in the opposite direction. The voice left him, and he stood there in confused silence for but a moment. A dark figure disappeared behind the trees to his left. He barely caught sight in his peripherals, but instinct kicked in and he unsheathed a long, black handled kitana from his back. He concentrated on the spot where he saw the figure and slowly started forward. His senses heightened when he was on the hunt. He heard all that happened around him. The wind stilled, the voice stopped, but he heard breathing from behind a tree straight ahead. By his estimate, he was only a mere ten feet away from the tree. He heard something else too, the figure he saw was not alone. Everywhere around him, there were the sounds of feet hitting the ground in fast succession. He grew more and more anxious with every passing second.

The figure emerged, it was a man dressed in an outfit similar to Jason's, only his was black, and the leather wrappings were red. Jason readied to fight, but was struck from behind. His eyes widened and he drew up all the strength he possessed to swing the kitana around in an attempt to end the life of whoever struck him. Instead of shedding another man's blood, Jason felt weak as he whirled around. He staggered as he whirled, almost falling straight down. His hand went to where he was struck and he felt a warm, wet spot on his lower back, in the center of the spot he felt a piece of metal. He pulled his hand up in front of his face. Blood. Jason was no stranger to seeing his own blood, but he was not familiar with what he was feeling now. The wound in his back was not lethal. He knew this because he was aware of anatomy and his own capabilities. He still felt more and more faint with each passing second. Whatever had hit him must have been coated with something, he felt his energy slipping away. He used the kitana to brace himself, but he couldn't stay up much longer. Falling forward, he shifted his weight on the kitana so he wouldn't fall on it and injure himself further. His last few seconds of vision were of similarly dressed men surrounding him. Then black, but he heard a struggle for just a couple seconds before succumbing to darkness. What would become of him, he did not know.

Looking around the bedroom walls, you'd think you were in the room of some angsty, teenage metalhead. What, with all the dark imagery, HP Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe books on the shelves, and the heavy metal band posters. Jason McNair, now dressed in a tan shirt and black boxers, lie on his bed, over the blankets. He looked around the room, completely confused as to where he was. This was a common thing for him, waking up with no clue as to whether he actually experienced what he'd experienced. He felt his back, nothing to tell the tale of where he was injured.

"Just a dream then.", he said to himself.

Beside him, a cell phone was playing a generic tune, one you'd hear if you never personalized your ringtone. He checked it, 0530, it read back to him as he silenced his alarm. He slowly got up, his jet black hair falling over his eyes as he stretched, almost painfully. Getting ready was a quick thing for him, normally, he changed into another tan shirt and a pair of dark brown cargo pants he tucked into his brown pair of combat boots. By the look of him, and by the tags around his neck, he appeared to be of military affiliation.

"Jason, you up?" A male voice from outside his door spoke up. Jason looked toward the door, contemplating on whether or not to respond.

"Yes, I'm up." He responded, groggily.

"I need to leave soon, do you still want me to drive you?"

Jason stood up, walking towards the door and undoing all three various locks. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

The voice on the other side belonged to a man similar in build to Jason, lean but muscular, but about four inches taller. He kept his hair in a high skin fade with the top dressed in a short but neat sweep to the side. He wore tags as well.

"Coffee is on the pot and my wife made some breakfast for you, eat up and I'll meet you out front." He was almost impatient.

Jason didn't respond, he just watched as the man turned and walked down the stairs. He didn't know why he stayed here, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Jason looked to be in his mid to late thirties, but he moved like he was at least eighty. He walked with a limp and struggled to get down the stairs. The kitchen smelled like bacon and eggs, the usual, Jason thought.

"Good morning, Jason." A young woman said.

"Good morning, Lydia." Jason responded, reaching to get a coffee cup, but wincing in pain as he extended his right arm.

"That's okay, let me!" Lydia said, putting a hand on Jason's shoulder.

Jason was reluctant to sit down without grabbing his own cup. He hated feeling like he couldn't do things.

"Where did Alex go?" She asked as she set a cup of coffee down in front of Jason, next to a plate of eggs, bacon and toast.

"Car." Jason replied, taking a sip.

"Is he still not talking?"

"Not to me, not more than he has to." Jason didn't show much feeling in these words.

She smiled, reassuringly. "It's okay! He'll come to eventually."

Jason smirked. "No he won't."

"Why do you say that?" She asked.

"Because I wouldn't." Jason said slowly.

She looked at him, almost with pity. He ate quickly, almost as though he didn't want to taste his food. He was up and out of the chair almost faster than he sat down. Lydia watched him disappear out the front door without a word. She hated to see her brother like this, but this was life for almost a year now. She cleaned up the reminder of a silent breakfast without a sound as she watched the car leave the driveway and speed down the dark street of a small house in the middle of nowhere. She was left with her thoughts, and her concerns, for the rest of the day it seemed.