Dear reader, I wish I could tell you that I had pleasant dreams that night, but of course, whatever god that governed dreams wouldn't have it be. I found myself sitting in a flower bed on the floor of an old church-like, staring a huge stained glass window depicting the same woman from the windows in the school - only without anyone bowing at her feet, and her dress engulfed in shards of reds, yellows and orange.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A voice sounded from behind me, and I twisted to face it. It's the owner is not the young girl I saw with Petto yesterday - but she seemed slightly older now. Perhaps by three years. Her hair hung to the centre of her back, curling when it reached the tip, complementing her eyes as they glistened a sea green. She stepped forward, looking at the mural before sitting cross-legged in the patch of flowers - her touch reviving the ones who began to wither. "Not much people come here anymore."

"Where are we?" I asked, taking a seat next to me. The girl handed me a flower, and I accepted with a smile on my face.

"Nowhere, really," Pulling a dandelion from the flower bed, brought it to her lips and then blew it towards the mural, frowning as the caught flame as soon as they got close enough as if the flame in the glass had been real.

"How did I get here, then?"

She smiled, waving her hand through the air in front of me. Pollen erupted from the flower bed, clouding my vision as her words rang out, I'll see you soon. The dream shifted.

A familiar scent hit my nostrils, making me flinch in disgust - it smelt like rotting muscles and fish gut, adding to something that smelt almost acidic. A shadow slipped through the darkness of my peripheral vision - too large to be a human. Perhaps an animal?

I staggered backwards as I saw the white glimmer of beats oversized teeth, stretched far across its maw, and the mole-like claws at the end of its feet - undoubtedly meant for ripping into the skin of its victims.

A laughed broke out as the beast crawled forward - one that sounded like a mix between a wood chipper and the sound of metal hitting metal. I knew the voice. I stood ready to run. Vassago, I tried to speak, but my voice bled into the darkness. The demon prince walked past me.

"Why have you called me forth, Phoenix?" He bellowed. Staring over my shoulder. "My kind does not take kindly to the likes of you, monster carver."

My eyes widened as I turned to face where he was gazing towards. My lip quivering, I reached out, and the beast snapped, keeping me frozen where I stood. She's right there... My heart raced, ignoring the how is she there? thoughts that plagued my mind.

"Vassago, you know why I am here." She spoke. She was dressed in battle gear - dark leather, hammered down enough times to make it thin enough to be flexible, yet useful in stopping some blows from blades, and a sturdy belt that held small vials of silvery liquid. She clipped one lose, holding it to her face. Her red hair flickered, lighting up the room in a hallow around her.
"I know this is a trap, as well. A trap that won't work, child." He responded in laughter. His crocodile becoming so much more aggressive now, trying to charge my mother. He held it back. "I am a prince, not some lesser demon that can be sealed inside "

"I know," She smiled, opening the vile to draw a circle around her own feet - the liquid began to glow, engulfing the darkness in a brilliant bright light. My eyes burned. Vassago and the beast hissed, then laughed.

"You do live up to your reputation, Phoenix." He spoke, and I could look at my mother once again - her farm hidden behind a collum of light. She smiled still, her hair burning at the ends.

"I've summoned you, and survived your rage, demon," She stated, "Grant me my wish - show me Salem."

"Mom!" I yelled, but the dream already shifted. My teeth clenched tightly together, I drug my fingers through the loose dirt below me.

"Do it," My mother spoke again, her fiery hair now glowing a warm orange that seemed almost welcoming. I stared up with teary eyes - Vassago had been nowhere in sight, but I knew exactly what the was.

"There has to be another way," A man spoke, walking towards her. His face was blurred out in my vision - his voice distorted in the same way Vassago's was. But this was no demon, not with the way my mother was looking at him, anyway. I knew this man. He had been the same man who came to our home all those years ago.

"There isn't," She responded, placing her hand onto his weapon - a brought sword that glimmered like daylight. Her eyes were always hopeful. She had been the kind that would smile with her eyes. I knew her eyes well. But right now, there was something different about them - her pupils shifted from normal and a weird red haze, filled with aggression

The man sighed. "What about your daughter? Don't you want to see her again?"

My mother remained quiet, her hair settling down to an even dimmer glow as if it had been some type of mood ring. I couldn't take my eyes off her now. I wanted to savour every last moment I got to see her. She looked directly at me, and my heart stopped.

"She'll know what happened eventually," She smiled the way she would after I fell, and she told me I'd be okay. My heart began to twist sickly in my chest, forcing me to tear up as the welling heat behind my eyes finally grew to be too much to bear.

"I see," The man spoke, raising his a sword.

"No!" I yelled, sitting upright - cold sweat flooding my forehead. Yet all I had been staring at now had her picture on the shelf in my room.