I dream a dirty dream of you baby``CARRION

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

I dream a dirty dream of you baby;
You're crawling on the bathroom floor.

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The air outside was turning crisper, hinting at the coming of late autumn. Many people weren't out at this time, for fear of hoodrats and bad guys; this wasn't the best neighborhood in town. Sheila had only awoken a couple of hours before. She had been working vigorously and this was her only night off. Almost fifty hours a week at that place and she had nothing to show for it. here she was i the middle of fall in an old cardigan with holes in the arms and sides, jeans that were worn to threads in the knees and a shirt that was two sizes too big and hung off her like a sack. She felt gross, but nothing at this point could bring her down- she was going to get hammered.

Sheila approached the bar like a regular, ignoring the couples making out by the front door, the pimps smacking their women and the druggies in the alley. It was none of her business, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene.

A quick gaze around was all it took for her to find her regular bar stool open and the bar tender giving her a warm smile, happy someone that wasn't completely fucked up had walked in. She took a seat and leaned on the bar. "I'll take a beer!" She shouted over the loud metal music some jackass had put on the jukebox. Only an hour or so, and she'd be head banging and trashed. That's all she needed a quick release. The best thing that had happened to her was only a couple of weeks ago, and embarrassingly enough, it was all a dream.

After her horrid experience on floor three, she had run down to the storage room, away from everyone. There- and the details were still blurry to her- she fell asleep, dreaming of a perfect man who was down there with her. He felt so real, she had even almost had sex with him, but he was a gentleman. She still remembered his name- Carrion. She had said the name over and over, wondering if it rang a bell or meant anything to her before her dream. It had to be a dream, right? When she woke, she was alone and his scent was gone, replaced by the stale stench of the hospital. The man of her dreams wouldn't have left her. She could see the longing in his eyes. Those eyes.

When the bartender sat down her beer, she instantly brought the glass to her lips, drinking the liquid furiously. When she stopped to breathe, she smiled at the bartender.
"You'll need to keep these coming." She said before holding in a burp. It was going to be a long night.

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[Carrion Rogue]

The Outfit

Russet eyes flashed as Carrion Rogue watched his prey slip into a dark alleyway beside the nastiest bar in town. Casually, he shrugged off of his car and flicked the remaining bit of his black clove cigarette over his shoulder. This mission just got a hell of a lot easier. He had no reason to hide the body now.

He slowly made his way after his target, dodging many hood rats and filth as he entered the alley. The place smelled of death and disease and for a moment it took him back in time.

A place filled with ash and and the smell of death. A small slip of a woman with a larger-than life personality. A moment of weakness and purse passion.

And the best sleep of his life.

He shook himself out of it, forcing himself to focus. Now wasn't the time to think about that day. He had work to do.

But that was easier said than done. He hadn't been able to stop thinking of her since he'd walked out of that room.

For both of their sake, it was best they didn't see one another again. He couldn't let anyone get too close for risk of them finding out about his exact job description.

He didn't know what would happen if they did. And he didn't want to find out.

The grungy teenager that was his target turned the corner, Carrion picked up his pace and found this part of the alley dark and empty.

Perfect.

He pulled a garrote out of his pocket and slid up behind the man, wrapping the wire around his throat and pulling hard.

In under a minute, the man was nothing but a sack of flesh at his feet.

Done.

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Carrion stepped into the dark bar only a few minutes later. The night was young and the asylum wouldn't expect him back with news of a job well done until tomorrow night. So why not treat himself to a relaxation?

Maybe a bit of people watching.

He wasn't much into the whole bar scene, drunk people were too stupid and unafraid. It often annoyed him. But tonight, he figured he'd toss a few back and take the rest of the night off.

His converse thumped on the wood floor as he stepped inside, hands in his pockets to hide the little bit of blood that stained them. He took a second to glance around the bar, taking note of all exits and people...

Carrion did a double take, his eyes coming to rest on a tiny woman who sat at the bar, downing beers. Her hair was down, her clothes a mess, she looked like she really didn't care.

For a moment, he felt as though he couldn't breathe. Then, her name spilled out of his mouth, unheard over the music. Sheila.

What in the world was she doing here of all places?

He cursed and put his head down, quickly making his way to a booth in the far back, praying she didn't see him.

Once sat, his back to the wall, he ordered some whiskey and sank down into the darkness, his eyes still glued to Sheila's back.

Even dressed a mess, she still was the most gorgeous woman in the room. And that was proved by how many eyes were on her.

And she didn't even know it.

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[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila was on her third beer and was getting sick of the watered down taste in her mouth. She looked in her pocket and pulled out enough to pay for the beers, and unfortunately that was all she had left. She moaned and gave the men around her hard looks, seeing what they had to drink and if she was really up to pretending tonight. Men all looked the same to her now, like pigs. She had seen a man worth her time, and he was unfortunately not rea-

Wait. No. That's not possible.

Sheila's eyes were fixed on a familiar man's face at a booth far from her. Her blood ran cold as she noticed his eyes were fixed on her as well, and apparently had been for a while.
I'm dreaming, I must be asleep, I have to be! Sheila squinted her eyes and pinched herself in her arm to wake herself up, but the room stayed as it was, and the man did not disappear.

Sheila got angry. She wanted this creature yo leave her alone. She hadn't been herself since the dream and she was beginning to hate it more and more every day. It was time she confronted the guy, the thing, the dream.

She marched over to him, her arms crossed and her hips in full swing. She took a seat across from him, not waiting for protest or approval.

"Are you like a dream jumper? A demon from hell sent to torture me? What's your game plan, huh, bub?" Sheila leaned her weight on the table between them, giving those familiar eyes a hard stare. She could smell him from here, her mind instantly taken back to the storage room. Why was her brain fucking with her so bad? She wasn't even drunk!

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[Carrion Rogue]

Whatever he had been expecting when she spotted him, it certainly hadn't been this.

He leaned back, away from her as she spat her words at him, angry, but he had no idea why. For a while, he couldn't even form words, so he simply stared at her, his face blank. After a second, he took a sip of his whiskey, completely forgetting about the blood spots on his hands in the face of her fiery temper.

"Ms. Bradel, I am sorry, but you will have to explain your question. I do not know what you are talking about." He had to raise his voice over the music, which was odd for him as he was a soft speaker.

He drained the half of the glass of whiskey in one go and signaled for another one, which the waitress happily went to go get.

Dream jumper?

Demon from hell...?

...Sent to torture her?

He rubbed the back of his neck as he attempted to sort out her words. What in the world had she gone on about? What exactly had he done for her to act this way? He retraced his steps through the past, but to no avail. All he had done is fall asleep with her in his arms.

Maybe she was drunk?

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[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila's eyes narrowed as he spoke, his voice sending chills down her spine like it had in the past. She felt so awake, so alive. How could this be a dream?
"Of course you don't know. Do you think I really expected you to fess up so easily?!" She leaned back into the booth, her back smacking against the large backing. Her thin arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrow arched. She studied him as he put on a confused face. For a moment, she nearly believed him, he seemed genuinely weirded out.

"I've seen you before. In a dream after I witnessed something terrible. Now, i'm seeing you again." She kept her eyes narrowed as she spoke, her blue pools staring into his blank red gaze. Sheila nearly cracked a smile. She loved those eyes and she was happy to be staring back in them.

"What do you want from me?" She asked, her voice calmer now. Poor girl thought she was genuinely in a dream. Though, somehow she was catching on to the whole situation, all she needed was a little convincing.

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[Carrion Rogue]

She thought he was a dream? He couldn't help but chuckle softly. Yeah, she was drunk. Most definitely. He was no dream. A nightmare, maybe. A dream, never.

The waitress sauntered over to the table and set his drink down in front of him, making sure to obviously rub up on him as she did so. "Can I get you anything else, hun?" She purred and batted her overly-mascaraed lashed at him.

But he paid her no mind, simply waving her away from him and taking a drink. "Ms. Bradel, I do not know how many drinks you have had, but I believe it has been one too many. I am no dream. He hid his amused smile behind the rim of his glass, but kept his eyes on her, just in case she did something crazy.

"I want nothing from you, M'am. What happened down in the Asylum's Main Storage was a simple happenstance. We should even be talking to one another. It is unprofessional." He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. After a moments study, he sat back once again.

The woman honestly believed him to be a dream, which was absolutely crazy, but he needed to convince her otherwise before this got out of hand.

"A human mind lacks the capability to conjure a human face out of nowhere, even for a dream. If the dreamer is to see someone unfamiliar to them, it means they have seen them somewhere before, even if it was just a glimpse. In other words, it is impossible for me to be a dream if you had never met me before."

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[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila sat there, listening to him. he seemed entertained but annoyed at the same time. The last bit was a shock to her, but it made sense. She obviously woke up alone and it scared her, which instantly turned the events she experienced into a dream. His face clouded her thoughts constantly.

Once she realized that he was real, she dwelt on his other words. A happenstance? Unprofessional? Now those words swirled in her head.

"Carrion..." She whispered, leaning her elbows on the table. She wasn't going to let him tell her it was nothing. She knew the looks on his face, the way his red eyes glazed over. She memorized his breathing pattern when they slept, everything.

"So the storage room was unprofessional? Hmmm, you didn't seem to think so at the time. Cut the shit, i'm happy to see you too." Sheila cocked an eyebrow. Of course, she remembered the danger she felt from this man. He could easily punch her from across the table, but she wasn't afraid of him. Sheila was focused beyond belief. She wanted his red eyes to return to the content nature she left them in.
First she had to get through his wall that he continued to build to the sky when he talked to a person.

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[Carrion Rogue]

His hand clenched on his glass and he looked away from her, his eyes roaming over the crowd of people. He couldn't think when he was around her.

It was wrong. He should just get up and walk out. But he couldn't seem to bring himself to.

And that only put her in danger.

His hand clenched harder, all amusement draining from his face as his wall slid back up, reinforced. He couldn't allow her through. Not this time. He wouldn't let her find out about what he did. It was too dangerous.

The next thing he knew, she would be his target.

And it would be all his fault.

"You are correct, Ms. Bradel. I didn't believe anything to be wrong at that time. But I have had plenty of time to think on it since then." He spoke softly, but he knew she heard him loud and clear. "You are better off still believing I am but a dream."

He glanced back at her, a mistake he instantly regretted as he couldn't look away again. The woman was wiley, smart, and cunning. Sassy and beautiful. And he adored it.

But if he were forced to track her... Well he didn't know what he'd do. He owed a debt to the Asylum, and he intended to repay it.

No matter what.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila leaned forward more as her back stiffened as he spoke. He was right, she was better off believing his dream-self. At least he was there and didn't speak.

"Why? What could possibly be better about that? Because i know the round about of your 'job'? Look, i'm not interested in that, at all." Shelia leaned forward more, making sure he could hear her whisper. She stared into his cold red eyes for a moment, analyzing her next move though his mirrored pupils.

"I haven't asked questions about the blood on your hands or the speck on your lip, now have i? Am I really that dense to you? It's not because i'm oblivious, Carrion. You aren't the only one that notices everything." Sheila quickly leaned away from him, just in case he decided to snap her neck then and there.

Of course she had noticed, but never intended to tell him. She didn't care what it was from or what his exact job was. His job didn't make him who he was, especially to her. Sure he was dangerous, but that only attracted her more. Like a moth to a bug zapper.

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[Carrion Rogue]

He forced himself not to look at his hands, simply shut himself down completely, his gaze turning to stone as he stared at her. "You know not of which you speak, Ms. Bradel. Keep your nose out from where it does not belong." His voice was monotone and he set his glass down hard on the table, the liquid sloshing onto his hands.

He stood, barely able to restrain his speed down to a human level. With cool, robotic movements, he pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet and dropped it onto the table. His gaze met hers one last time and he nodded. "Have a good day, M'am. His words were polite, but his tone was much less than that.

He spun on his heel and walked calmly out of the bar, only the clenching and unclenching of his hands gave away his emotion. He wasn't angry, but he was certainly annoyed.

He hit the door hard and stepped out into the cool autumn night air. His hand went to his jacket pocket and he pulled out his black clove cigarettes, yanked one out, stuck it in his mouth and lit it. All the while, he never missed a step as he walked over to his custom Dodge Challenger Blacktop.

He paid a lot of money for his car, as it was one of only two made, so he was never reckless with it. But at this point in time, he was careless as he yanked the door open and sat down into it, taking a hard drag off of his cigarette.

God DAMN it, what had he been thinking? He slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel, frustrated to no end. He knew better than this, so how did he get himself into this mess?

Fuck

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[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila huffed and kept her mouth shut. Her eyes drifted over his stiff frame, drinking in his attractive dark nature more as he stood. She remembered his dominating height, but now that he was standing and she was sitting, she felt him tower over her. Any normal woman would pout and sulk after he left, but Sheila wouldn't and couldn't. There was no way this man was leaving the bar without her, she wouldn't be able to handle it. This time she wasn't going to wake up alone, she wasn't going to go back to pretending he wasn't real.

As he left, Sheila waited a moment wondering if she should really pursue. To her, it was worth it. When the door closed behind him she stood and walked out after him, her eyes hard on his back. Once he was in his car, she watched and stood in the path of his open car door.

"Don't treat me like a sick patient, Carrion." Shelia leaned down to place her head on the door frame so she could see him better.

"I told you i'm not going to tell anyone! What more do you want? I'm not leaving you alone! If i leave you alone, you'll still be here.." She tapped on her temple, allowing the hint of him being stuck in her brain become obvious.

Sheila fell silent as she waited for a response. Her back stiffened to an uncomfortable arch and her limbs locked in place. The only way she was moving was if she was forced, though something told her that could be easily done by Carrion.

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[Carrion Rogue]

Carrion closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the seat as she approached. He could feel her beside him, feel the warmth radiating from her skin. He listened quietly as she spoke, enjoying the lilting sound of her voice.

She went quiet and he said nothing for a moment, just ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "It is not the fact that you'll say anything, Ms. Bradel. It is simply the fact that you know something you shouldn't." His eyes stayed closed as he responded, knowing that they would have shifted to a demonic, almost glowing red.

He tried to reign in the frustration that pulsed inside his soul, to no avail. He tried and tried and tried but still nothing.

His eyes snapped open as something occurred to him.

It wasn't anger. It wasn't frustration. He felt nothing of the sort.

He was... He was scared.

He was truly fearful of her safety. As tough as she seemed, she would be nothing but an ant underfoot if his bosses were to find out about her knowledge of him. The emotion was a foreign concept to him and he turned his face away from her, unable to cover his expression.

But something roared inside of him and he couldn't stop from reacting.

With a speed that her eyes had no hope of tracking, he was up of the car, his large hand on her stomach, pushing her back as he shut the door. He spun her around and pinned her to the vehicle. His face was inches from hers, hands on either side of her head, blocking any chance of escape.

And through her mirror-like eyes, he could see the gleaming, demonic red of his eyes.

His breath was harsh as he simply stared at her, minutes spanning by before he finally spoke, his voice a growl. "You would do best to forget about me and my profession, Ms. Bradel. This is for your own safety.

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[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila was unable to respond to him when she wanted because of his sudden movements. Now she was pinned against the car and himself, and she was forced to stare into his deep-red glare. Her face fell in remembrance of his eyes, how content and calm they were before. She didn't like knowing she was the reason he was upset, he was the last person she wished to cause problems with. He didn't deserve that.

Sheila shook her head as she bowed it, looking at the small crack between them, down to her feet. That was easier said than done. Obviously this man was one of secrets and dangers, but she couldn't understand why his wall was getting thicker and thicker. He wasn't the same Carrion she met in the storage room.

"Forget? The last thing YOU need to be telling someone is to forget. You know what it's like to have no recollection of memories. How big the hole is and how lonely it feels." Sheila's eyes turned up to meet his. Instantly she was drawn in, unable to look away. The deep red evil tone to them could send any human or creature running, and it was the last thing many people must've seen before- No, now was not the time to dwell on the blood splatter on his hands.

Sheila pushed off the car, straightening her back to seal the small crack between them. She gave his lips a longing look, trying her hardest not to meet his with her own. A familiar scent swirled around her, forcing her to slowly blink. Now her eyes were meeting his again, this time she was only inches from his face.

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[Carrion Rogue]

As always, his mind scrambled as her body became flush against his. His breath hitched and he licked his lips, staring down at her face. Before he could even stop himself, a phrase slipped from his mouth, barely audible, "Upset the established order and everything becomes chaos." Those words were the only thing he could remember from his past, as though it had somehow been drilled into his head.

A mantra.

He pushed her back against the car, his body melding with hers, and he dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers. He couldn't seem to help himself. This woman was confusing, sassy, and bullheaded, but she was the only one who could cause him to react like this.

He didn't want to walk away from this.

Not again.

He pulled away just enough to murmur, "Now it is my turn to ask you; What is it that you want from me?" His eyes softened as they met hers, the color melding back into a more natural tone.

Maybe if he could just get her out of his system.

[Sheila Louise Bradel]

Sheila could feel the tension rise between them. He said something, but she wasn't exactly sure what it was, the only word she could make out was 'chaos'. Of course she naturally wanted to ask him what he had said, but it seemed completely irrelevant to their current situation.

As his body pushed into hers she nearly groaned happily. Finally, he had caved, he was acting familiar again. She kissed him back instantly but he broke away before she could wrap her hands around him. Sheila placed her hands to rest on his small hips when he began to speak.

"I can think of a few things." Her voice was more of a whisper. That was a loaded question; she wanted to slap him across the face, to kiss him again, she wanted to get solid answers from him. her breath was shorter as her mind swam.

Sheila pushed him off of her and raised her hand, slapping him hard across the face.
"Your fucking mood swings are pissing me off!" She yelled, placing her hands on his chest to push him away just enough for her to walk. It was harder for her to walk away, but she wasn't going to be ran around like a stupid school girl with a crush on the popular boy. She had a right to be an asshole just as much as he did.

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