The man stood within it. Rather, he floated; she sensed he did not really exist there at all, that this was another part of her mind creating and blending two things together. He was really still several hundred feet away, moving towards the room through the storm. But this was where he existed inside her head. His face was concealed by shadows, only the bridge of his nose clearly visible. His arms were long and muscled, hanging close to his knees.

There was something wrong with him; she could sense that without really seeing it. It emanated from him like a palpable smell, the smell of disease. He was bleeding from the nose, had been for some time, and his insides were terribly bloated and misshapen. It was the foreign thing that had done this to him.

And suddenly she knew what her mind was about to do, and screamed, recoiling from it as if struck by some unseen hand. It was as if she had no control over her own thoughts and actions, as if she, Jessie, lived a prisoner within herself and was powerless against another part that had taken over. She flew towards him at an incredible speed without moving, as if someone had shoved a telescope in front of her eyes and was zooming in until his face filled the lens. Then it was as if another doorknob turned, like the first, only this one was inside his mind, she was opening his mind, and the nightmares waited there crouching like beasts to spring upon her.

Part of her went black, the little Jessie part, but another part of her watched curiously. This was the part that was in control now, and wanted the answers to it all. This part was much older and felt little fear.

At first there was nothing, only blackness. Then the blackness was split by flashing images, bright lights that illuminated the space like a strobe. She saw whirling shapes and figures during the flashes, dancing dots of light, checkerboards and spinning tunnels. She smelled burning things, horrible things. The space was gigantic. It made her feel small and helpless. She knew that she was reacting to her own feelings mixed with his, and that together each deepened the other until everything was doubly intense.

Gradually she realized that these flashes were not strobe lights at all, but some kind of explosions that rocked the ground, sending up bright tendrils of smoke like fireworks into the night sky. There were things around her now, shapes that moved and slithered along, leaving slimy paths of wetness behind. And there were many smells in the air, smells of death and fear. She began to hear noises, softly at first, then louder, whisperings that turned into shouts of warning, then screams of pain, as the noises became human voices.