She took a tentative step forward, trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings. On first impression, the room seemed to be comprised of four straight walls encompassing a relatively small area, but as she looked around, she could see it was full of hidden alcoves and secret recesses, making it much larger than it originally seemed. A sliver of silver moonlight shone through a long, thin window on the other side of the room, casting shadows across the floor. The window bore three iron bars vertically across it, making it impossible for anyone to infiltrate -- or escape.

She shivered in the darkness. Her thin tank top and baggy shorts did little to warm her, and the wooden floor was cold against her bare feet, She could see little foggy clouds of breath when she exhaled. A faint yet intangible scent infused the musty air. She breathed in deeply, inhaling something which reminded her of vanilla blossoms mingled with sandalwood incense.

The only object in the room was small, rough-hewn bookcase under the window. Silently, she walked over to it and knelt down, brushing her fingers over the weathered, leather-bound tomes. She scanned the titles. The Wasteland... Catcher In The Rye ... A Brief History of Time ... The Chrysalids ... Among Us ... The Taming of the Shrew ... Ulysses. She frowned, staring at the last book. Something told her the title should have some sort of significance for her, but she couldn't remember why.

Shaking the thought from her head, she stood up and glanced around again. Her eyes came to rest on a piece of paper lying on the floor near the bookcase, its whiteness in sharp contrast to the well-worn ebony floorboards. Crossing over to it, she picked it up and slowly turned it over, revealing an unfinished charcoal sketch of James Atherton's geodesic dome, the one she herself had seen in Marathon only weeks earlier. She dropped the sheet of paper as if it had caught on fire.

Her pulse quickened. She wasn't supposed to be here. The books, the sketch, the bars on the window ... they were subtle yet obvious warning signs. She was trespassing, even if she hadn't meant to. She wasn't even sure why she came here to begin with, it hadn't seemed like a conscious decision. Something drew her here, like a magnetic force she couldn't escape from, but now that she was here, all she wanted to do was leave. It was a bad idea. She didn't belong here.

Then she heard it. A hushed groan from far in the distance met her ears. Against her instincts, she walked towards the other end of the room, towards the source of the sound. Her eyes combed the darkness, her breath caught in her throat, waiting. Watching. Soon, she heard it again, more distinctly this time, a low, feral moan amid ragged breathing. In the darkness, her eyes played tricks on her. She leaned forward, trying to determine if she saw something move amongst the blackness.

A chill crawled up her spine as she slowly became conscious of the fact that she wasn't alone in the room. She could dimly make out the outline of a large object, close by in one of the room's many shadowy alcoves. Too close. She swallowed, captivated, as it shifted slowly in the darkness, its breath a rapid series of unfinished gasps. Her heartbeat quickened, as she struggled with the sudden realization that objects didn't breathe. She was watching a person.

The figure was tall. Clad in black, the lithe, lean body stirred more restlessly now, like the ebb and flow of waves crashing violently against a shore. Spellbound, she watched as the figure moved backwards, stepping into a thin path of moonlight which softly silhouetted his features.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Michael Guerin stood close enough for her to touch, yet she went unnoticed in the dark folds of the room. Breathless, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his lips slightly parted. She watched transfixed from her invisible vantage point as, without warning, a long, pale arm reached out from the darkness, snaking around his back and up towards his shoulders. A small hand gripped the back of his head, fingers entangled in his hair, pulling him back into the shadows.

A burning heat crept into her cheeks as a muffled groan filled the air. She wanted to leave, immediately, but found herself rooted to the spot, staring at the entwined couple so near to her, yet a world away. She was privy to something as intensely private as it was passionate and a mixture of revulsion and fascination fought for dominance in her mind.

He trailed his mouth across the girl's collarbone slowly, showering deep, soft kisses up her throat and neck. His lips rested a moment in the hollow under her ear, where he could feel her pulse beat beneath the heat of her skin. Finally his mouth exploded against hers, devouring her hungrily and she moaned again, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. His fingertips grazed her sides and skimmed down to her waist, eventually curling around her hips tightly, pressing her hard against his body.

From the shadows she watched, a voyeur. Flashes of jealousy and anger tore at her, bleeding into the morbid curiosity and guilt she was already feeling. It was wrong to stay -- for a thousand different reasons, it was wrong to stay -- but something in her felt compelled to, nevertheless. She wrestled with herself while she regarded the two again, so consumed with each other they wouldn't even be aware of her presence, let alone her departure.

She was just about to withdraw from her hiding position and rush from the room, when the pair paused again. He pulled away from the girl slowly, his lips lingering on hers. Flushed and out of breath he leaned against a wall, the girl resting her head on his chest, her breathing also slightly laboured.

From the shadows, she strained to see who this mysterious girl was, this creature who had him so mesmerized, but the girl's face was hidden to her. She watched as he traced the girl's features gently with a fingertip, gazing down at her almost tenderly, the recent passion and heat and intensity all but forgotten. The girl looked up at him with soft eyes, a faint smile dancing on her lips. As he tilted her chin and bent to kiss her, her face became dimly outlined by the candlelight.

Suddenly, Maria Deluca woke up screaming.