Nightmares Vs Magic

There was the issue with Claire being too unnerved to drive, as evidenced by how shaky the car moved as she attempted to drive out of the neighborhood, before Annabelle stopped her from getting on the main road. Annabelle didn't know how to drive, so she held a funny, teasing grin on her face as she nudged Dove, silently encouraging her to volunteer.

I thought it was just my imagination, but I've noticed how sometimes when Annabelle talks, her tone just always sounds like she speaking in a teasing manner.

Bence made it clear he would only begin driving to follow behind Claire's car, as it was safest to make sure the client was in his vision, as the best way to protect them. Dove understood this, but also felt a little unnerved at the idea of driving someone else's car, but she also understood the mental state Claire was in.

"If you want, I'll drive the client's car, and you take mine, that way you can be seated with Annabelle, since you're more comfortable with her." Bence offered, holding out the keys.

Dove quickly shook her head. More than anything, to accidentally scratch the car of a stranger, she didn't mind, but to risk scratching the car of one of the few people she genuinely respects, would be mortifying to her.

"I'll be driving her back; besides she seems talkative and you..." She held back, slightly cringing internally as she regretted saying those last words, attempting to joke. Dove gave him an awkward glance, but Bence could already tell what she was inferring and shrugged.

"Well, I can't exactly argue against you." He patted her on the shoulder.

She curtly nodded, before going over to Claire, and offering to drive.

When they both sat in the seats and buckled in, Dove politely asked her to remove her sunhat, as it was making it difficult for her to see the right-side mirror. She huffed and reluctantly took it off.

Dove gave a short wave to Bence as she turned on the engine, hearing him to turn on the engine to his car, and she began driving onto the main road, back to the city.

Claire rested her arm up on the sill of her side, resting her chin in her right hand.

"This day could not get any more annoying." She mumbled.

Dove was normally able to cancel out or drown out any noise or people talking, but she couldn't control it even as she was staying focused on the road ahead.

"Stupid dreams, stupid weird detective rules against photos... stupid friends can't even treat my backdoor right..."

I understood that she was pretty annoyed and upset, but most of all I knew she must've felt unnerved and frustrated and couldn't find the right words or actions to express it. Not even anger helps to express frustration correctly, but it fits the most. I chose to stay silent and continue focusing solely on the road, making careful turns and driving slowly as we began to get further into the city. I mean, what could I say to her? I'm kind of one of the reasons her day became disturbing.

"Aren't you supposed to say some comforting words to me?" She heard the woman next to her say.

Dove kept her focus in making sure she stayed in her lane.

"Sorry, I was focusing on driving. What would you like to hear?"

She scoffs and rubs her face in frustration.

"I don't know! You're a detective, aren't you? Just, tell me that maybe it was just my friends messing with me the whole time!"

Dove sat awkwardly in the driver seat as they stopped at a red light, keeping her eyes at the front.

"Ah, technically I'm an intern... ah, It's a possibility? But with your vivid dreams, your instincts might be telling you-"

"Ugh! Don't tell me you believe in that gut instincts crap! It's all just clickbait and content material, I don't even believe in my own shit!" She says, not exactly in a yell, but definitely an aggressive tone, before holding herself in her seat, chewing on the nail of her thumb.

I normally just stay silent when a person starts to raise their voice at me, or at least try to give them some space, but due to reasons, my normal reactions changed:

1. We are stuck in her car together until I decide to park or until we get to Macabre house.

2. With the way she's acting, I felt like there was something she wasn't telling us before. I mean, I know that influencers tend to have alter egos when making videos and stuff, but,,,

"Is there something else on your mind perhaps?" Dove gently asked her, just as traffic begins moving again.

"Nothing important, just annoying stuff." She says whilst chewing her nail.

"Ugh! I knew the people in my neighborhood were careless when I needed them. We swore we'd look out for each other, but I swear if none of them even really cared..."

Dove grew curious.

She was taught and believed that it was rude to pry into a person's business, and she felt she had done enough with the whole searching her house already. But this statement, stirred something in her.

Laurence gave me this task to read people and make guesses about them. He must've meant that with clients too, otherwise why would he suggest such a useless thing in the first place? To give me something to do?

"Did something happen in the past?..." Dove internally argued with herself before stating her next words. "You can vent to me if you'd like?" She said, trying to fight back gritting her teeth in regret.

As if those eight words were like a magic spell, Claire perked up from chewing her nails, sitting back more properly in her seat, and crossing her arms with a huff.

"Well, if you insist." She said in an imitatively-bashful-but-not-exactly tone, as Dove mentally and internally prepared herself for an earful, gripping the pastel-colored steering wheel tightly.

"When I moved to the beachside, I was expecting a nice community, I was expecting the residents there to be mature in spite of our online competition and fame." Claire began.

"I was so nervous, like, a city girl like me moving to the beachside? 'Oh gosh, I sure hope I'd get lots of friends and support!' and the people there seemed so genuine! You know? But deep down I knew-" She proceeded to go on, as if speaking a soliloquy.

Dove's stomach churned with dread as she listened, and the drive back suddenly felt longer. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, as letting someone vent used to be her schtick, and they normally didn't want advice. The voices would act as background noise as Dove nodded with a serene expression, not actually listening but letting them rant as she drifted off. However, Dove had to listen to everything during this rant, to find a clue she was theorizing.

"I knew I had difficulty reading the room sometimes, but I can't help it! And I told my friends to correct me if I do something wrong, like if I talk too much or talk over someone. I'm getting better. So, we were in a downtown area, looking for a place to use for our backdrop, because we each needed to post some photos for the week. And like I told you, the theme was 'badass yet subtle'."

Both cars drove smoothly through the roads, before then heading further into the city, where fighting the Macabre House would become easy. The six-floor building was the one of the few with a large accessible parking lot.

Dove began to find the nearest available space, running out of battery as she listened, until her ears perked at what she was finally listening for.

"He just kept glaring at me, and I thought that maybe it was my outfit, so I shrugged it off and my friends were also telling me to ignore him, and a couple of the guys in the group were dudes, so we were safe. I mean sure he kept following us, so we started recording, and one of my guy friends turned around and hollered at him."

Dove abruptly parked into the most open slot, a little too tilted then she would have preferred but she was between the lines.

"He walked off, and we just laughed it off. I had new content I could use on the week where I would do safety awareness for my viewers, so I thought it was a good day! We all went back home and did our usual routine of hanging out by the bonfire until we all got tired. I'm usually a night owl, so I didn't feel like going to bed yet and played on my phone by the bonfire, and also,,," Claire paused finally, but not for a breather.

Dove turned her head to her, patiently and gently coaxing. "What's wrong? Are you feeling, okay?"

Claire paused with her mouth slightly agape, before shaking her head.

"Yeah, just, it felt weird because I suddenly just felt unnerved that night, like I suddenly felt like looking over my shoulder and stuff. I usually never did that until a few nights ago, and I quickly learned how valid I was for that, because I just had like the worst dream that night when I did finally decide to go in. And by the way!" Claire said abruptly, pointing a finger up.

"I even felt like looking over my shoulder in my own house! It was so crazy! And then I have this nightmare, it starts with my house, and I turned the lights on because I don't know, I guess that's what I usually do, but that was bad, because I suddenly say this thing!"

The brunette put both hands up, holding both in claw-like shapes, trying to form the silhouette of what she saw.

"This thing in my house in my dream, like I think it was a guy cause in my dream he had this deep voice, and he was just standing there, staring at me. And like, I couldn't control myself in my dream because I'm still working on how to lucid dream, but in my perspective in the dream, I suddenly move my head and look at my kitchen window. And then I woke up!"

Dove nodded, more awake now as she took the key out of the ignition, unbuckling her seatbelt as Claire did the same.

"Did the guy in your dream look like the guy you saw in the downtown area?"

Her face contorted between paranoid, annoyed, confused, and pondering.

"I-I guess? But I knew it was just a nightmare from seeing him that day. He didn't even follow us home, downtown is like several miles away from the beach area, it would've taken him hours or like, days to actually get to where I was, and even then, he wouldn't have even known where to go."

"And yet, your case file states you've been having the same dream over and over, with the same figure? But-wait, what did he look like in your dream? In your file, you said the figure was black and white."

Claire rubbed her arm uncomfortably, looking off into lower space, her breathing becoming more visible.

"He looked like a normal guy at first, and then in the next dream he was just in the background, glaring at me, like normally dreams are about random things and places that don't make sense, but mine have been,,, the opposite of weird." Claire looks up again and gives Dove, for once, a serious expression, and not one made from driven fear like this morning.

"In my dreams, I'm doing all my normal stuff, hanging out with friends, or like working on my computer, or like just out on the town. He's just there, in the background. The first night he looked normal, the next he was glaring at me from the background, and then the next, he just starts looking different."

Bence parks his car next, getting out as he rubs his head, while Annabelle was talking in the background about the one-man hide and seek game, and its validity.

"The first difference I ever noticed was his smile. And then the next, his eyes are wide, and face is pale, like paper. Then the rest of his body starts to look more 2D, you know? And he's just hugging whatever wall he's hiding behind while peeking out at me. That's when my next dreams involved my family or friends telling me to lock my doors and windows and stuff." Claire gulps.

"He didn't even look scary! Just, stupid! Seriously stupid!"

Dove nodded, tapping the side of her fist in front of her mouth as she began pondering, her eyes thinning.

Annabelle came up to the car, lightly knocking on the door.

"Hello! Hello! Are you two getting along all of a sudden? After just one car ride? I'm impressed."

Claire turned her attention to the blonde-haired woman, and switched her demeanor, clearly wanting to move on from the subject as she got out from her side.

"Well, I am a social butterfly! I've done a lot of short videos online with dialogues on how to make someone comfortable, they go well with my makeup tutorial visuals!"

Annabelle hummed, ushering the woman to go inside with her, but not before looking over her shoulder to Dove, who was still frozen in thought.

I knew this was a stalker situation, but the weird part was the dreams. I know Bence already gave me an explanation, but I mostly took it as one possible hypothesis. As weird as the brain can be, you don't just have the same nightmare over and over for more than a week. Some stories I've heard and read about, the people with repeated nightmares have all had a certain cause for it, even if it wasn't explicitly stated.

Claire's evidential cause for her nightmares, the possible stalker, was the most likely, but like she said, it wasn't likely that he followed her. Still, people nowadays can achieve surprising things.

"Dove." A stern but calm and relaxed voice called out.

The girl jolted and sat up, looking up to see Bence standing by the car, waiting for her. He opened the car door and gave her a quizzical look.

"Did she tell you something interesting?" He asked her in a bit of light humor, arching his brow.

"... Sort of, but it's all still circumstantial." She stretched and leaned back in the driver's seat, holding the car keys up, realizing Claire had forgotten to take them.

"But oh man, she can talk, and listening is way more tiring than popcorn reading."

He let out an agreeing hum, offering her a hand to get her out of the car.

"Go drink some coffee in the break area, there should be someone else inside who can keep up in conversing with Claire."

Dove nodded as they went inside. Claire and Annabelle were far ahead already, so this was a bit of peace.

"Remember not to drink too much coffee." Bence said as he opened the door for them to go up the stairs route, waving a passing hello to the shop ladies as they went up.

Dove grinned slightly, almost wanting to chuckle.

"Yes, of course."

On the fourth floor, she gave the car keys to Bence, telling him that Claire had forgotten them. She told him the rest of the story Claire had told her, and he recorded it on his phone to re-listen to later.

Dove went to make herself a hot cup, leaning against the counter beside the microwave, going for hot chocolate instead of coffee.

Bence relayed his side to Laurence, before leaving while dialing something on his phone, heading down the hall to a room Dove hadn't been to yet.

Laurence walked over to her next to get her side of the investigation, to which Dove listed everything she considered relevant, including the new story she was told on the way back.

She reached over for the notebook laying on the counter, handing it back to him, hiding her disappointment and awkwardness.

"I tried to use your notes during this case, but not only did Annabelle and I not see any nightmares lingering in or around her home, I still couldn't figure out the exact cause of her dreams. Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

Dove's mouth fell agape as she tried to think of a response, before Laurence gently smiled, waving it off.

"Instincts? Reflexes? I've been there. Just don't let yourself apologize for nothing like that again, people will take advantage of that."

Laurence gingerly took the notebook, flipping through the pages, and hummed lightly as he closed it.

"Huh, I should probably update this."

Dove shuffled in her spot, having another thought come into her mind as she observed and read the state of his appearance. He had said he was going to the graveyard earlier, to do a checkup on something she didn't know about. The only clue to what business he had at the graveyard was told by his revolver, which she could still see the holster of at his side, underneath his coat.

"Hmm? What's wrong? Does the gun bother you?"

Dove shook her head, looking him in the eye.

"You're not allowed on field missions, right?"

He hummed and nodded a yes. Dove turned around to retrieve her cup from the beeping microwave, grabbing another cup and pointing it towards Laurence.

"Would you like a cup? It's hot chocolate, so it's easy."

He shook his head, sheepishly pointing to his desk. Dove turned her head to see there were three cups on his desk, and her eyes widened, surprised to have not noticed it before.

She didn't know how to respond, just visibly showing with her face how surprised she was as she turned her head back to Laurence, who was looking away with a guilty face.

"I've had enough caffeine." He simply said.

They stood in what began as awkward silence, before it became slightly more comfortable, as Laurence originally came to the break area to search through the drawers.

Dove held her cup of hot chocolate close to her face, sighing and inhaling the steam like it was a candle scent.

She noticed a red spots on Laurence's right hand, he was scratching it whilst rummaging through the drawer, until he found some cream to rid the itching. It felt slightly odd for her to see this, mostly since the red marks were further up the back of his wrist.

Even though Maine is up north, it's still summer. I get cold easily, but Laurence looks like one of those people who would easily feel warm or hot. And yet, I always saw him wearing long sleeves, covering all the way up to the wrists. He never once rolled up his sleeves the way I've seen Bence do. At first, I thought it was just a difference in preferences.

"Were there a lot of bugs where you were at?"

He shrugged, focusing on applying the cream as he casually responded.

"Well, about as much as you can expect from a graveyard. Bugs are known to be attracted to things that rot."

She nodded, gently blowing on her cup before taking a sip, knowing that if she just up and drank the scalding hot beverage, it would upset him.

"Would you consider yourself a consistent person?" She asked him casually, leaning back against the counter.

He chuckled.

"Honestly, I myself can't tell. I try to stay organized."

He put the cream back in the drawer, rubbing his red hand as the itching was now beginning to fade, and was about to walk over to his desk.

Dove then asked her main question as soon as his back was turned to her.

"So then, staying off of field missions isn't a consistent thing either? Why was the graveyard an exception?" She asked, softly placing her cup on the counter as she stopped leaning against the counter.

She stood there, staring at his back as he stiffened, holding her wrist as a way to keep her arms occupied as she waited for his answer.

He shifted in place, half turning around to see her, only to then avoid eye contact as he clicked his tongue. He held up a hand as if to talk with it, but his hand also added to his awkward silence, and his lips pressed together. He was trying to come up with an answer.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice? It's okay, I'd understand. My mother always said I had a bad habit of dozing away."

Dove gave shrug, trying to tell him that she wasn't trying to antagonize him, just that she was genuinely curious.

"I just wanted to know, but if it's not something I'm supposed to know, I understand-"

"No! No. It's nothing about you." He quickly reassured her, taking a step towards her as he gathered his words. He scratched the back of his head and sighed.

"I guess I'm just less consistent with my words, especially when I haven't had a few cups after waking up."

He gave returned her eye contact with something that looked a bit like regret, but not towards her. She began to frown more in confusion, her curiosity compelling her enough to be confident and ask another invasive question.

"Why even are you not allowed on field missions? The graveyard aside. The other interns and I tried guessing, but nothing sounded valid enough."

"Well, I am technically not allowed on field cases, that much is true. But the graveyard is less of a case, and more of a place to be regularly checked."

Dove's expression, that facial expression which looked calm and relaxed with her half-lidded eyes, did not change. It was actually the expression she subconsciously dons when attempting to read someone. Her half-lidded eyes were actually when her eyes would thin in thinking.

"Right, so what you told me earlier about not being allowed on field cases wasn't a lie, by technicality. But still, it feels inconsistent, regardless of what the spot you went to would be categorized as."

Her eyes shifted down to the holster at his side, no longer as hidden by his light jacket.

"And,,, I'm more perplexed about the gun."

Laurence groaned as he placed his hands on his hips, looking away and down. It wasn't that he was ashamed, actually he was rather proud and happy that she had been paying attention to so much. He had a slight fear that she was too numb and antisocial to bother with such details.

As soon as he lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak, Bence returned to the main office room, calling for Dove.

"Oh, was I interrupting something?" He stopped in his walk, staring between them.

Dove looked from him to Laurence, who still seemed at a loss of what words to tell her, or more that he did have them but then forgot.

She picked up her now cooled down cup from the counter, downing it in a couple big gulps before throwing it into the recycling bin.

"No, it's alright. I may have been too invasive."

She gave Laurence a nod, before going to leave with Bence as he told her of the next steps they would be taking with Claire's case.

Laurence exhaled a breath, shoulders slightly slumped, holding up and massaging one of his wrists through the sleeves to occupy himself. He shook his head as he went back to his desk, staring at the empty coffee cups on his desk for a moment, before tossing each of them into the recycling bin.

Bence had Dove follow him to the elevator, beginning to explain.

"I know I already told you earlier about how some people tend to give themselves nightmares, but there is a possibility I was wrong with that assumption. And I can't help but feel as though you've already had that thought as well." He gave her a side-eye glance, looking up from his phone which had a long note and list on the screen.

She nodded, holding on to the bar attached to the velvet walls of the elevator. Not like it would lessen the after effect of vertigo for her after she got off.

"I have but, I haven't come up with anything else. I just..." She suddenly blinked and lightly smacked a hand to her head, almost startling the necromancer.

"Her phone!" She yelled to herself softly. "She was taking photos with friends during the time she came upon the man who was glaring at her, and that same man appeared in her dreams but soon became distorted..."

Bence tilted his head to her, curious and staying silent so as not to interrupt her train of thought.

"I don't know why it didn't occur to me before. I should've asked to check her phone after hearing her story. She said she now had a new story to tell for some scheduled content of hers, and she recorded a video of the possible stalker as well! There's still more evidence I haven't checked yet, dammit." She groaned to herself, gripping the side bar tighter, her free hand reaching up to grip her upper arm tightly.

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Bence finally spoke up, beginning to type something on his phone, updating the notes.

"This is all still new to you. You still haven't trained your muscle memory to begin noticing all pieces of evidence so quickly. Still, you're doing far better than you think."

Dove kept frowning, only humming in response to Bence's statement, eyes on the velvety fabric of the elevator walls as she thought.

"I don't know how to feel about..." She paused, before then questioning.

"Actually, where has Claire been this whole time? I also forgot to think about where she was."

I was feeling really drained. I don't know how anyone who has a job in repeatedly socializing with people, is ever able to get through the day.

Bence lifted his head up from his phone, and Dove saw for the first time how his eyes widened in surprise.

"I am just now realizing; I left her with Annabelle, and Annabelle, was eagerly talking about teaching her how to gouge eyes out."