It was growing late, ann inky darkness had settled in outside as day gave away to night. Aegir slithered across the law of the campus, his mind alerting him to the fact that there were no other people out at this hour, the closest mind had been those that were contained in the dorms, most unconscious given the inactivity of their brains, or rather the regions of the brain stimulating creativity had been more active in a few individuals.

He had been going toward it, usually he preyed on those that wandered or found themselves in the forest but today he slept overly long and was rarely up for any length of time during the day seeing that he had been busy during the night traveling amongst the stars and even going back to Pia's house back on Earth leaving a message to be found by her folks, the same message that Pia herself wrote while caught up in his illusion.

Now closest to him was a beig in the first floor dorm. He took a look inside seeing a plumb girl fast asleep. He passed on her. No he continued to look though found something that interested him as he considered the various ways that he could have some fun with matters and alleviate his near constant boredom.

Since he was here he considered checking in on Pia's progress with the book she was working on after or the progress of Ishtar's play about him but figured that either could wait. He was patient after all and this situation called to him.

His skin changed color from mauve to black as he scaled the wall with ease. Tentacled suction cupped limbs pulled him upward, his telekinesis went to work on the bolt of the window unlocking it and opening it as he peered in seeing the glow of the television and an image on it. He paused, his eyes drifting over to the sleeping girl before it finding that some images drifted into her mind incorprating what she heard into her dream at least partially.

He turned his attention back to the television watching as Anna fell deeper into sleep and he analayzed the comic on television as he riffled through her own memories of him. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeSSwKffj9o.

He slid into the dorm room slithering away from the window not that it mattered much. His silohette could be mistaken at human from range but how many 7' tall women where on the island? The tallest he knew about where between the six foot and seven foot mark but where at least a full head shorter, not that he couldn't scrub things from the minds of any that observed him but Aegir as a rule was genuinely lazy when he could get away with it such as now.

First few week in this new place and she's settled in nicely. She worked out half the time she was not in class, just for the sake of keeping fit and active. She met a few girls here who did this thing they call 'parkour' which she decided to join in and start practicing. She even practices martial arts and music when ever she gets the chance. Life here seemed usual but the students kept on asking her, "has she been at yet?" prompting her to ask, "what?". "You know, at it with them?"..."wait what?" "Well, have you?" "No... not really?" "It'll happen, soon enough". "Wait, what the hell are you lot talking about?" "You'll see," The girls would just wink at her, smile and giggle.

End of a long day and another party tonight, outside. 'So, this is what post-secondary is like, huh?' she thought to herself. 'get up, check if you got free time, go to class, walk around for a bit and get drunk in the evening?' She was never drank, and never got involved in parties. Mainly because the music sucks, but the other reasons include the drunkard girls wandering around doing stupid things, the way people act, and with the addition of her not knowing them anyways. When there was a party, she would usually go up to her dorm room and chill there, and possibly sleep. A few other girls where also sleeping; tired from a long day of hard work in class. She pulled the keys out of a pocket in her school uniform. She also doesn't take her school uniform off all day, just because she feels it a waste of time and laundry water.

Her dorm room was quite messy and was hoping that there wouldn't be any dorm room inspections from the prefects. How embarrassing that'd be for her. The evening grew dark, quite fast, the bugs of the evening coming out in a cheerful song of nature. Crickets chirping, happily and fruit flies, with every chance they got, flew in threw the window, just for the sake of getting a piece of her. She was laying on her, bed, listening to some heavy metal on her iPod-- A song called Tegernako by a folk metal band, called "Eluveitie". She turned off her iPod when the song was over and decided to watch one of the George Carlin HBOs she got. She moved over to one of the shelves, pulled off one the later ones, "You Are All Diseased". The only one she could really find out in the mess, mixed with video games, such as Halo: Combat Evolved, or Medal of Honor: Airborne, and books such as the Lord Of The Rings Trilogy, The Hobbit, and the Eragon Trilogy. She opened the DVD player placed the DVD "You Are All Diseased" into the player. She sat back and watched the show. She continued watching, only to fall into the essence of a deep and wonderful slumber. She, in her dream found herself in a stadium, a full audience and up there was George.

Scanning her mind Aegir tracked the process of her dreams. He took in her earlier thoughts and memories as he smoothed over them with practiced ease. A virgin? That had been peculiar in his time on the island since he did not come across them all that often.

In fact it had only occurred a few times before, less then six in fact. He was so us to having girls already broken in and while he could use his mental abilities to make things far more interesting and easy for him there was still the initial horror factor that they went through. With being the victim of previous monsters his appereance was far more acceptable.

But he wondered about things for a moment and debated on whether or not to make things pleasant or a nightmare. He usual was pleasant in his dealings given that he enjoyed being liked, even worshipped but from time to time he did the exact opposite to keep things interesting for himself.

Decisions. Decisions.

He did coax a portion of her mind inducing a deeper sleep. Next he project his illusion upon her. It was obvious that she incorprated what she was hearing into matters but the firing off of her creative centers actually worked to his benefit.

There she was in an auditorium full of applauding people. Things seemed routine enough though Anna found the strong desire to urinate creeping up on her. Her exit from the place initially anyway set him up for the next phase of his plan as he fully planed to induct her into many a thing ...

The comedian on the television blared jokes, forcing Anna to laugh out loud in her sleep, her mind, due to where she was make her think she was actually watching him on stage. Her slumber grew deeper and more in depth with what was going on around her fantasy-self. People around her laughing and cheering with every fun quote George said. She was having a blast in her sleep. The dream she was in felt so real, that she wished not to get out of it, just yet. "No pinching yourself, just yet, lassy" She told herself in her dream, "This is awesome!" It ended with the burning sensation to use the washroom.

She couldn't tell if it was actually her bladder waiting to burst or the dream. She had drunk a good amount of coca-cola, whilst hanging out with her friends, up at cafeteria, right before going to bed. Her mom always told her, "never to drink that stuff before going to bed, you'll be up all night, peeing," and she never listened, and always woke up in the dark of the night just to use the washroom. Never learning her lesson, the first time. One would think she'd of learnt her lesson by now. She, in real life, rolled over a bit too much, ending up falling out of bed. Pain shot through her side as she landed on one of the TV remotes, making her wake up from her deep and wonderful slumber. "Ow..." she said, holding her side. The agonizing pain of the bladder wanting to release it's waste was real enough. She got up, naked and quite cold, grabbed her nightgown and still dazed with sleep in her eyes, blindly went to use the washroom, not to notice anyone but her in the room. She went into the washroom to find something that says without words, "made in Japan". In other words, a Japanese style toilet. 'Ain't this wonderful, not toilet seat, I'm gonna hafta kneel, won't I?' She thought, cheerfully sarcastic, 'now how the fuck do these work?'

She went back to bed, only instead of sleeping on the bed which everyone here seems to do, she decided to do the thing she normally did at home, which is sleep on the floor- She wasn't a very materialistic or consumeristic person, didn't buy all that many clothes, didn't sleep on a bed, only had her books, her movies, games, and get her own music. Sleeping on the floor she figures was a lot more comfortable than in a bed, she found, and it takes away from the sometimes painful event of falling off the bed. Which, since she is usually moving around in bed, is one thing that is common for her, especially in bed. She then slowly went back to sleep, to the same scene as before she woke up, only she wasn't as deep into it.

Aegir had moved while she slept, into her closet so when she awoke she did not perceive him as she went about. The closet door which he resided in was opened a crack so that he could see out of it and thus her. Thankfully it was dim enough in the room that she did not notice this though it would not have mattered much had she saw. He could alter her perceptions to make himself "invisible" to her senses or even generate an illusion to have the door appear closed when it wasn't.

Normally he would be able to view out into the bedroom through one of his nodes but the last had been implanted in Ryu and it would be a couple of months before he budded another tool.

He waited for her to drift back off. Same dream though the situation began differently seeing how she was coming into a full auditorum. George was on stage looking at her as was most of the audience as if she was the object of their attention for some reason.

"Well, welcome back ..." George began then gestured to her seat in the front row where she had been sitting prior to her departure. "Hope that was important, you didn't listen to me when I told you to sit back down. Did you have to tinkle?"

He was singling her out of course, the audience waiting for her response.

As she sat down, she heard George speak. She looked up, to see him gesturing to her. She was shocked to see that he was. This dream was getting a bit too real. Her eyes where open wide, as he spoke to her. Her words came out in a startled mutter. She shook her head, and then "uh... yea... uh... sorry, uh, I was kind of... uh, bursting, Mr. Carlin," she said, embarrassed by him singling her out like that. Out of all the members of the audience, why she chose to single her out, especially in this realm of fantasy. She sat there, flushed, face as red as a tomato. She looked down, seeing she was in her school uniform. She wondered, when she thought she was in simple casual clothes. She looked around, seeing the audience staring at her, forcing her to grow more red. She was exceedingly embarrassed by now.

Back, in the real world, she is moving around the floor, like a worm in the hands of a fisherman, squirming for freedom. She had kicked some of the covers off her, letting in cold air, forcing her to shiver. Her entire body shaking like crazy in the midst of this dream she was sinking deeply into. Good thing she wasn't on her bed, otherwise she would've fell out again. She was in too deep to wake this time, unable to get a grip and wake up from the embarrassment. She moved around less and less, despite her heart pounding against her chest. Her bare chest rising up and down, as she breathed, deeply, just to calm herself down.

In the dream, she felt cold, not knowing why. Must be because in the dream, it's somewhat spring with the cool Canadian weather she was use to each March plus she's in the Summer uniform the school gave her. She never realized that in real, she kicked off the blankets, giving her questions as to why her upper body and legs had goosebumps all over them. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, yet she was also growing warmer with the embarrassment of being the centre of attention in the whole auditorium when, really, it should by George who's the centre of attention, here.

Aegir focused on Anna to the point of stimulating her mind to the point that she could not wake even if she desired it, at least not any time soon. He pushed opened the closet, slither closer to her prone form, looking down at the quiver mass on the floor.

A tentacle did rise, caressing the side of her cheek though he dull her sensation to that partial touch so she would not even feel it on a subconscious level. He found that he was close enough to restrain her if the need arose though he figured that she would not elude him unless circumstances got out of control and rather unpredictable such as another monster trying to drive him off or muscle in on his victim.

But he sensed her evident embarrassment as he manipulated the dream further.

"That's alright." George began, "I got your sweater anyway."

He gestured to someone off stage who came out to give him a black sweat shirt, the letter S embroided on the upper left breast. He toook it an unfolded it, sure enough it was hers though she had no idea if she took it off here and simply left it or if he simply manifested it. In any case he was holding it up to the audience, that chuckled seemingly at an inside joke they knew about that George shared with them while she was away.

"S ... Superman? Sexy? What the hell does the S stand for?" he asked as he gazed at her, a hand stroking his bearded chin as he draped the sweater over a forearm.

She immediately wanted to back the offer of him giving her, her sweater. She then started to wonder why he was focused on her out of all the people, then wondered how the hell he obtained her. She continued to shiver when he asked her what the S meant on her sweater. "Sexy?" he stated in the quest of finding out what it meant. Her low self-esteem and negative commentary, she calls the depression talk, kicked in when he said that. She turned her head away, slightly, saying, "Stupid? 'So-not-sexy?'" anything negative she can think of that starts with S she can put herself down with.

In real, she stopped shivering and moving for a bit, seemingly in that pout she is having in her dreams. She never really had any self-confidence, even with the happy moment of getting on the plane to get out of her past life. Most likely from all she's been having to put up with throughout her youth. She turned over onto her stomach, only to continue shivering as a blast of cool air flew past, from the open window.

She let out a small scream and huddled again as she felt a cold air flow by. She looked up at George, with questions. 'This must be a nightmare,' she thought to herself, not liking the fact that she's being put on the spotlight like this. She was puzzled as to what was going on. Her desire to wake up won't happen. For some reason as hard as she tried, she could wake up, she was too deep in her dream, yet she wanted out. She figured he'll go back to his regular routine in a moment and decided to sit and watch, despite she being cold and at most embarrassed. "Why don't I leave the auditorium, though?' she thought to herself, half getting up, ready to leave.

Aegir thought of telekinetically closing the window at the cold breeze that blew through the room but thought better of it. Perhaps the chill would subconsciously build her desire for the sweater? Either way it did no harm in keeping it opened at this stage as he looked down at her body.

He could sense her desire to wake or even disappear from all the attention that had been placed upon her and though that was not the case he milked in her reaction to things as he thought of just how he was going to proceed with this. Oh, he had things in mind though he altered matters based on what people did or felt usually keeping things real enough so that his illusions or dreams where within the realm of believability to his target.

"What's your name?" It seemed as if for now George wasn't going back to his standard routine, she was a digression and perhaps he had a few jokes at her expense. "Sarah? Susan? Sally?"

He rattled off a few names beginning with S then shifted his question. No the sweater did not seem to be a personal item but rather that of a uniform, perhaps a school uniform so he began sprouting off colleges (for she looked to be that age) around the area that began with S.

Just as she stood she heard the man try to guess at her name. She sat down, thinking he's doing this just to get out a joke or two, which she thought wasn't necessarily his style. The S was actually for her Brother, and she hi it when her mother and father was about to throw all his stuff out, or rather give it all to charity. "The S stands for Samuel," she said, "My name is Anna". She stared at the man, hard, wondering whether he's going to joke about her brother or not.

"Now, can I please have my sweatshirt, though?" she gestured to have it back. Something that special, despite it's just a dream, she'd prefer it to be in her hands than anyone else's. She held out her hand with the simple hope of getting it back. "Please?"

She was now questioned if he's going to make a joke, or make her feel more embarrassed by having her go up on stage. Hopefully he'll be a gentleman and leave her alone, for the remainder of the show. She looked at him coldly yet her face was warm with being the center of it all.

If only it was so easy ...

George looked to the sweater then at her. "Like the orphan? Oh, wait, that was Annie. You can have it back, though next time I recommend that you don't drink so much water before you sit down for a show. Nothing like burning money, after all the tickets had to cost you a fortune, front row too." He whistled as a grin spread across his bearded face.

But he had no answer forth coming as to what the S stood for. As a result though he seemed to reign in a little. "Come up and get your sweat shirt. Cold in here, right? Like an eskimo's pussy but you'd know nothing about that would you? But the temperature here reminds me of this one broad, her heart like ice. She felt real frigid to the touch too."

He began as if moving on with the beginning of another joke as he waited for her to come up to retrieve her sweater.

She got annoyed at him having her go up stage. She knew it was expensive for first row seats but she didn't care. The jokes he made didn't cheer her up at the least. Especially since she had a friend who was of Inuit decent. The mention of Eskimo, though reminded her of a joke her Inuit friend made. Someone asked her "where all the Eskimos went" and she simple replied, "They all play football now in Edmonton." She walked, slowly up to the stairs to the stage, with annoyance stamped all over her face, yet red with the faces all on her. She walked on the stage, grabbed the sweatshirt and turned to walk off and out of the auditorium.

"You never did tell us what the S stood for ..." she heard his voice chime in as she exposed her back to him not seeing the grin on the features of his face as she had her back to him now barely getting a two steps from him. If she turned to regard him she would see the smirk upon his features, the fact that he was staring right at her too as was the audience as if they all shared in a secret little gag.

"I have a theory about that ..."

She was in the spot light that illuminated the comedian and boy did it feel hot. Especially now with wiith all eyes upon her ...

She stopped for a second as soon as he mentioned that she still never told him what the S stood for. She thought about her brother who wore the sweater a day before he was killed. She took it from a box with the words, "Junk" all over it. She held the sweater close to her heart. "It's personal..." she said, solemnly. She stood there, frozen with the only few memories of her brother that she can actually remember. She shook her her head only to notice the spotlight now shining on her. She grew nervous being in front of all these people. Every single eye peering up at her, including the comedian's. She wanted to start running for the exit but she can't. Her legs wouldn't budge even if she wanted to. She was frozen in the midst of her stage fright. 'Why me?' she thought to herself, 'and why can't I fucking move?!' She cursed in her thoughts as to why this was even happening. Sweat poured down her face. Despite the temperature in this room being practically frozen, she was boiling at this moment.

"I bet it's fucking personal. Not many people prancing around willing to say that the S stands for slut. Isn't that right, Anna?"

She never told him her name but as she turned her head to view him she would notice that George was smiling at her. There was something about the way he looked at her too. He sculpted his gaze over her as he took the few steps in between them to close the gap a little.

The audience said or did nothing, not even a murmur she noticed. Another thing now that had been revealed was that George had no pupils, his eyes going a pure white as he addressed her yet again. "I don't know about the rest of you but boy is my prick hard."