Margie wasn’t scared of ghosts. She hardly knew what it was to be afraid. And why should she be frightened of such a nice lady?

There was only one source of light inside the bedroom. Its illumination was very pale, but it lit up the child’s features more than the patch of moonlight she was sitting in. Margie sat facing it with her back to the window. The little girl’s hair, which went halfway down her back, looked like silver, and so did her eyes; her skin looked milky white. She smiled up at the light source, and it smiled down at her.

The moonlight streamed through the window, but since it was partly cloudy out, that wasn’t much at all. The streetlamps didn’t stretch very far up, and certainly didn’t reach the second-story windows of the houses on that street, let alone Margie’s. There wasn’t much light in the room.

Shades of a bluish gray colored everything inside the girl’s room. Dull coloration aside, the living space didn’t look very inviting. A small bed with a single pillow, grayish sheets covering an old mattress, and a plain metal frame was set at the corner to the right of the window. An old chest-like box was on the other side of the room, and beside it there was a plain wooden side table. The plain walls looked as though they hadn’t been painted in years, and the wooden floor was clean but faded with age.

It was very late, especially for little children to be up, but that didn’t seem to matter to Margie. In fact, it was as if time was a concept that didn’t exist to her.

Or the ghost, for that matter.

Red eyebrows lowered as a woman furrowed her brow.

“I have eyeshadow on my fingers,” she said to herself as she studied her fingertips.

A mug of coffee loudly placed beside her elbow didn’t break her concentration, but the voice of the man who put it down did.

“At least it isn’t nail polish.” He leaned on the wall behind him and next to the red-haired woman’s desk. “Or tar. By the way, Gen, how did that happen?”

Genivieve Waters sighed, annoyed, and tried her best to keep her green-eyed glare from the younger man.

“Shut up, Rex,” she muttered.

The man with the nametag which read “T. Rex” just laughed instead. Leaning forward, he peered at the glittery lavender on her fingers.

“Geez, you wear the weirdest colors!”

Genivieve growled and smacked him away, leaving a red mark on his cheek. He recoiled.

“What are you, a bad stand-up comedian!? Get back to work!”

She gave a final stare to her fingertips then turned her attention to her computer unit. It was still on the login screen, even though this shift had begun several hours ago. She wasn’t all too concerned about that, despite the fact that she knew that logging into the Dream Police mainframe was required at the start of every shift. Any newly received information was distributed through the network upon revision, as were alerts and orders. If someone wasn’t where he or she was supposed to be, they would receive a severe reprimand.

Genivieve knew that although he was irritating, bothersome, and seemingly irresponsible, Timothy Rex would be logged on. Her other shiftmate, Sfen Niel, would have done so upon arrival as well. Not that anyone would be able to notice his dedication to the cause, since at the moment he was snoring away at his desk, leaning back in his chair.

For lack of anything better to do, the redhead picked up the mug to her right and logged on as she drank her coffee…

…only to be greeted by a loud beeping and flashing red letters in a small box.

She heard Sfen grunt in his sleep as she clicked on the alert.

A larger box appeared as the small one closed and the beeping ceased. Gen read through it with quick eyes that were accustomed to picking up all the information in the least amount of time.

When she was done, she furrowed her brow in thought once more. ‘Why was this only sent to me? It calls on all three of us…’

She jumped when a large hand landed suddenly next to her keyboard. She turned her head and found herself staring at Sfen, who was staring at the screen.

He breathed in through gritted teeth and backed up. He sighed when he was standing upright.

“You know I hate it when you do that,” Gen grumbled under her breath.

“You should’ve thought about that before you configured your audio settings to that volume,” Sfen replied carelessly in his rough tone. He closed his pale blue eyes as he rubbed his unshaved chin. “T-Bone, get over here!”

Rex appeared after a second, a stern look on his face.

“Damn it, Neil, the joke is old already!”

“Really?” Gen grinned mischievously, resting one arm on the back of her seat to support herself. “I think it’s still just as funny as the first time.”

“You know what they say about payback, don’t you?” the violet-eyed man said, glaring at the redhead.

“Listen, kid, I’m glad to interrupt to say that we’re heading for 42nd Street.”

Rex stared at Sfen as if he’d said it was sunny tonight. Sfen returned the gaze with equal blankness. Genivieve looked between the two in disbelief.

“Well, what are you two waiting for!? Let’s get going!!”

“Okay, so what was the order about again?”

With Sfen at the wheel, Gen in the passenger’s seat, and Rex in the back, Dream Police Unit 5, Second District, Galvan City, on the country-continent Drimas, were on the way to fulfilling their task. The message had been sent to Genivieve alone, and Sfen had been very stingy with the details. And Rex wanted to know.

The redhead pinched the bridge of her nose for a second, rolling her eyes as she brought her hand back down.

“There’s a loose Nightmare on 42nd Street.”

“I know that much. I want the details.”

“What details could you possibly want? It’s a Nightmare! You don’t need to know anything else except what to do and you know that.”

“You two both get to know the whole story — is it a Terran’s Nightmare or what?”

Gen turned around in her seat to give Rex the ful effect of her glare.

“It’s a Nightmare. That’s all that matters.”

Rex rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, that’s plenty of info, Gen. Especially since we live in Dreamscape, where everywhere we turn we’re looking at a crowd of Dreamers and Caretakers.’

Dreamscape. The realm where dreams take place.

Dreams were very real in Dreamscape. This was the place Terran people came to when they fell asleep. This was the realm of dreams. The world where the impossible became possible. Dreamers were Terrans — people from Terra or Terrascape, the realm of Earth —, who were guided into the buildings where their dreams would take place. Most of the time, dreams would remain inside the rooms Terrans were taken to. No matter what they saw, it was confined. It could be a flight across the ocean or a boat trip to the next continent — no matter what, it was kept sealed. But sometimes if a dream was too real, it would escape and go out into the streets. These were, for the most part, bad dreams. Nightmares. They would often continue to operate even after the Dreamer woke up.

That was where the Caretakers took the lead. Caretaker was the title of anyone in the Dreamscape. The residents of the realm each had a specific job, be it being inside a Dreamer’s dream or mowing the lawn in front of a building. The Dream Police were established to keep loose Nightmares from causing havoc in the world. Different continents and countries had different systems, since they had different technologies available.

The drive was uneventful until Sfen took the turn into 42nd Street.

Gen was the first one to see it.

“It’s the Nightmare! Watch out!”

Sfen slammed on the brakes; everyone lurched forward, Gen and Rex hitting their foreheads with the surfaces in front of them. Both held their bumped heads and cursed under their breaths as the oldest among them stepped out of the car.

“Why do you have to use this old model anyway!?” Genivieve demanded as she followed suit.

“Because it’s the same age as he is,” Rex answered for the black-haired man, slamming the door shut after he’d gotten out. He let out a low whistle as he caught sight of the loose dream. “That is one big reverie.”

“T-Bone, did you bring the NX-Blue?” Sfen asked as he stared down the street.

“Yes, I did. Why would I not? And stop calling me that!”

“What about the BG-7?”

“Yes.”

“The Green-RD? LM-4? J-29?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I brought all of those and more!”

“Why do you sound so irritated?”

Rex was about to retort but found no words. He closed his mouth and looked questioningly at the older man. Gen snickered into her hands.

“Yeah, what’s wrong, Porterhouse?”

The blonde man clenched his fists and faced the redhead.

“Get the guns out.” Sfen went on as if he hadn’t heard Genivieve’s comment. “Gimme the BG and let Geni have the RD and the NX. You take the other two.”

The blonde did so, keeping his questions to himself, knowing that if he asked them he wouldn’t get the answers. They were all standing to the left of the car. Sfen checked the weapon he’d been handed and nodded, satisfied.

“All right. I’ll hold this guy off so you two can get to the kid, got it?” He eyed the two out of the corner of his eye, his back almost to them.

Genivieve nodded. Rex looked utterly confused.

“Wait a minute — what kid?” he questioned. “You guys didn’t mention anything about a kid.”

Sfen’s reply — or rather, his way of letting the younger man know that he was being ignored — was to aim the BG-7 at the dream monster with its back them.

Gen had already crossed the street.

“Hey, Sirloin!” she called, waving at him. “Let’s go!”

“Idiot,” Rex muttered. He started to walk to where she was.

Sfen’s voice stopped him:

“Keep ‘em safe. Both Gen and the kid. Got it?”

The blonde frowned, turning his head a little to get the older man in his sight. He was surprised of the lack of the use of his joke-name, but more so by the order itself.

“Don’t just stand there, T-Bone. Get going.”

Rex hung his head and sighed.

“Yes, sir…”

About a block down from where Unit 5 had left their vehicle, Genivieve and Rex were making their way inside a seemingly abandoned building.

“Hey Gen?”

The woman pushed some fiery red bangs from her forehead as she crawled through a window that led to the basement.

“What is it?” she asked, grabbing on to a wooden beam on the underground room’s ceiling.

He dropped on all fours as she lifted herself out of the opening and let go, landing silently on her feet.

“There are people in the room above us.” He got through the little window and did the same thing the older woman did before. He dusted himself off. “Are they the ones holding this ‘kid’? Was the Nightmare a distraction?”

“You ask too many questions.” The redhead walked to the stairs across the room from them. Rex followed.

“You can’t learn if you don’t ask.”

She stopped when both reached the door.

“The presence of the Nightmare was either a coincidence or a diversion. Either way it worked to our favor. There’s no way we would’ve found out about the little girl if it hadn’t been for that. As for the people upstairs, yes, they’re the ones keeping the kid here. It’s probably a kidnapping for money, but we can’t be sure.”

He knew she was lying, but said nothing. Gen slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. It barely creaked. She stopped halfway out of the room to listen, then proceeded, Rex following close behind.

They were in an old, abandoned kitchen. Everything — appliances; pots, pans, bowls and utensils left out as if to dry — was covered in a thick layer of dust. As the two officers grimaced in disgust, voices drifted in from the hall. Taking great care to be quiet, the two stood just behind the wall that turned to the corridor and listened.

“Damn. It’s Banderfield and his guys,” Gen whispered after a while. “And they’re blocking the way upstairs.”

The sound of Rex cocking one of his weapons made her head snap to him. She smirked at him.

“A fast learner,” she said with some pride, though she also sounded sounded sarcastic. “We wouldn’t’ve settled for less.”

“Whatever.” The blonde rolled his eyes. He raised the gun and sighed. “Off I go.”

Just as he was about to cross the hall, he was roughly pulled back. Genivieve’s eyes were narrowed due to her efforts to keep from bursting out with laughter.

“Guess I was wrong,” she mumbled, forcing the guffaws down. “You’re still a little wet behind the ears.” She answered his unspoken question by motioning to her left. There was a stairway just past a doorframe.

He shook his head at her, disappointed. She was already at the doorless frame, joke forgotten and seriousness in place.

“You stay here and back me up if necessary.”

“I’m not a moron, you know.”

“Yeah… But I can’t believe you didn’t notice the door!” She covered her mouth with her free hand — the other one was holding one of her weapons — as she gave in to a few chuckles. Once she’d calmed down she went up the stairs, stopping every few steps to laugh.

Rex rolled his eyes when she was gone, then, turning around, cast his gaze back to the hall.

He then found himself face to face with one of the many wanted men in Justus Banderfield’s theft gang.

The officer almost dropped his gun.

“You didn’t really think we’d meet here without a guard or two, did you?” said the ugly man, sneering.

Gen had become serious by the time she reached the second floor. She checked a few rooms and ended up with nothing. Finally there was only one room left.

‘I doubt they’d keep the kid with them,’ she mused. ‘It has to be this one.’

She crept across the empty corridor, trying her best not to make a sound. She stopped by the door.

A voice in her ear startled her, but not so much that she jumped.

“The Nightmare’s taken care of. How are you two doing?”

Gen lifted her wrist to her mouth and whispered into a cuff button, “So far, so good. I’m going to get the girl right now.” She paused to look up and down the hall. “Check on Steakman for me.”

Getting no reply, she knew she had been understood. She sighed, tucked some loose hair behind her ear, took a deep breath, and —

A crash came from downstairs, followed by Rex’s shout:

“Gen! Get out of there now!”

“And the people downstairs — are they nice to you?”

Margie shrugged and held up her small plush lion.

“They’re not bad.”

The ghost nodded.

“I see.”

Several seconds passed in silence as the five-year-old petted and held her lion toy. The floating, semi-transparent woman watched in silence.

“Miss Olivia?”

“Yes?” the phantasm answered.

“Will you stay with me? I like you more than those men that brought me here.”

Olivia smiled.

“Of course. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Margie looked up at her and giggled.

A loud noise from downstairs alarmed the two, making their happy expressions disappear. Then the door opened suddenly.

Gen cursed.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left him down there alone!”

Heavy footsteps came from the stairs. There was no time to lose. Genivieve burst through the door, gun at the ready. But what she saw made her jaw drop.

“Oh, hello, Gen!” the ghost cheerfully greeted.

“Olivia!? What are you —” She lowered her weapon and shook her head. “No time for that. Lemme take her, all right?”

Margie stood, holding her lion by one of its front legs. She looked at the ghost and continued to so even as Gen picked her up and headed back for the door.

“She’s nicer than she seems, I promise!” Olivia called to the girl, winking.

The redhead had already reached the hall. Three burly men were heading straight for her.

‘Damn it, damn it, damn it! Hurry up and get here, Rex!’

She dashed into the room again and looked out the window.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Olivia remarked. “I fell off a cliff and just look at me now!”

How she could say such things at tense moments was beyond Gen, but there was no time to think about it now: the men’s leader left the building just then in a shiny black car. ‘That must mean the order is “shoot to kill”.’

“All right. Down it is, then.”

The redhead took a firm hold of the girl and perched herself on the window’s frame. The gunmen entered the room. Gen leaned forward. Margie was calm.

“I’m Margie. What’s your name?”

“Gen.”

The redhead jumped just when the men started shooting. As officer and child fell amid shattered glass, one of the shooters yelled for the others to stop lest they hurt the girl.

Genivieve landed safely on the sidewalk just as Sfen pulled up in the car.

“Rex is still inside,” she said he helped her stand up. She dared not let Margie go.

“I’ll get him,” Sfen said as he reached for his gun.

He was heading for the front door when a ghostly wail followed by gunshots sounded upstairs.

“WHOOOO-HOO!”

Gen blankly stared forward at nothing.

“It just had to happen.”

Not a second passed after she muttered the words before Rex followed in her stead, leaping out the window and landing in a kneeling position. Sfen shrugged and put his gun back in its holster as the younger man got up, smiling triumphantly. Olivia floated down and hovered beside him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Who’s the rookie, eh?” The blonde stood proudly, arms akimbo.

Gen smirked and gave him a light kick in the shin. He jumped back, complaining, and grabbed the area as he glared at the redhead.

“Nice try, Tenderloin,” she muttered, smirking.

“I think he did pretty well!” Olivia chimed. “We work nicely together.”

Gen glared daggers at the dead woman.

“You are in serious trou —”

“I really don’t hate to break the party,” Sfen interrupted, “but we have to report to the sergeant now. We’re done here.”

The DP unit, ghost, and five-year-old entered the car and drove back to the Second District station.

“Ghosts aren’t supposed to be able to sit down,” Gen grumbled at Olivia, who sat next to Margie in back.

The specter smiled and smoothed the hair in her bun as Genivieve, who was looking forward, did the same with her own.

“Shows how much you know about being dead.”

“You’ve only been dead five weeks!”

“You get used to it soon!”

“Shut up!!”

Finding himself the object of two intimidating glares, Rex cleared his throat and stared at the back of the seat in front of him. Margie giggled. Sfen said nothing. The blonde was quiet the rest of the drive back, which was more than could be said about Olivia and Gen.

To be continued…

AN:  Next chapter might take a while to put up. In it we’ll learn a little more about Margie, Olivia, and Gen. Also, how uneasy Rex has it, and who Banderfield is. ^_^;

Summary: A small unit of the Nightmare- and crime-fighting Dream Police are assigned a peculiar charge: a very special little girl whom they must protect. Unfortunately, she comes with a cooky ghost and a notorious criminal who wants her for his own reasons.