I open my eyes, and immediately take in the scenery in front of me, which is a huge lawn with many curved walking paths paved through it, accompanied on either side by landscaped bushes and flowers. On the other side of the lawn are a few large, tan-colored buildings. The architecture style is old-fashioned, as the entrances to several of the buildings have huge, ornate pillars holding up the front awnings, reminding me of images I’ve seen of buildings in Washington D.C. Wherever this is, it’s definitely not Enchantment City, or anywhere in Texas, or even California, that I’ve ever been to.

Next, I notice that I’m not alone. For one, there are several people walking around, dressed in clothes that I can only call quaint. There are many pretty girls walking to and fro, wearing miniskirts or jeans with large, thick belts, and shirts/sweaters that rely overly on vertical and horizontal lines. The men in the area aren’t quite as distinct, but I do notice an unusual amount of flannel and black leather jackets, and one guy with a very blatant mullet. However, all of them pass me by, not seeming to see or notice me.

That is, until I am approached by one woman who looks appraisingly at me. She is dressed the strangest of this already unusually dressed crowd, wearing what seems to be a long, traditional Celtic dress which is red over the torso, and has an underskirt covering the legs with a pattern of black, yellow and orange. Over her shoulder is draped a dark green, plaid cape, tied in a knot in front of her neck. She holds a long spear in one hand, and thuds it against the ground as she walks as if it were a walking stick. She has a pointed chin, and two scars on her face, one going through one of her large, hazel eyes, and the other on the opposite cheek. Her brown hair is long and unkempt, bushy and curling all the way down to her shoulders. I realize that she reminds me of someone I saw in a dream once, albeit dressed entirely differently.

She stops a few feet ahead of me and gives me a tough smile. “Ashley. So nice to finally meet you in the flesh,” she says. The sound of her voice confirms what I suspected; this woman is Lucy herself.

“It’s an honor,” I tell her sincerely. Nobody around us seems to show any notice of Lucy’s strange garment, nor any sign of worry that she’s carrying a weapon. Come to think of it, they would’ve been reacting to me walking around in a suit of armor as well. I assume from this that we can not be seen by anyone else.

She gazes at me, a weird hunger in her eyes, as if my appearance is fascinating to her. This makes me feel a little awkward, so I say, “Nice dress. It makes me think of traditional Irish clothes.”

“That’s exactly right, Ashley,” she says. “Are you familiar with the culture?”

“Sort of,” I say. “My mom is Irish. Every now and then she’ll get nostalgic and talk a little about the traditions and stuff.”

“Your mom is?” Lucy questions, still looking strangely fascinated. “I see…”

“Um… so where are we, exactly?” I ask.

“Inside of a memory,” she explains. “Past that, you’d probably know more than I do. I don’t even know whose mind we entered.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” I look around, trying to see if I can spot Charlotte’s mom in the area. I spot her quickly on the other side of a nearby street. She is next to a strange building; it appears to be three stories tall, but most of the bottom floor is opened up, with picnic tables and a bike rack, and the top two floors have a long series of identical windows with a hollowed effect. “She’s over there. Let’s cross the street,” I say.

We approach Charlotte’s mom. The fashion of the age fits her quite well. She’s dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans that hug her thighs and ass. (I have to remind myself not to stare.) Like many others, she is wearing a flannel sweater over a simple white shirt. Her red hair is tied in the back, but also allowed to curl down to her neck in the front. She is bent over a vending machine in front of the building, rummaging through her purse for something. Not that she looks elderly in the present day, but I can tell that she’s younger here, as her face has a bright and smooth quality to it.

“Ashley, this isn’t your mother by any chance, is it?” Lucy asks.

“Nope,” I say. “She is the mother of one of my friends, though. She just so happens to also be a redhead.”

Charlotte’s mom looks increasingly distressed; her rummaging of her purse gets more frantic. She eventually sighs out heavily and says “ shit ” under her breath, looking around.

“Faye! What’s wrong, girl?” another girl’s voice says. Faye looks up to see a latina woman approaching her.

“I don’t have enough change for anything here,” she complains. “Do you have any to spare?”

“Sorry girl, I’m broke,” she says, throwing her hands up.

“Fucking hell,” Faye swears. “So much for getting lunch before class.”

“Maybe you should get a part time job,” the other girl suggests.

“I guess so,” Faye says. “But then that’s less time to do homework…”

“If you want a quick way to make money, there’s always…” the other girl mimes something inappropriate with her mouth and one hand.

“Rosa! Knock it off!” Faye chides, looking embarrassed.

“I’m serious! You’re gorgeous, I’m sure you could get some guys interested.”

“Hmm… Maybe. I dunno,” Faye says uncertainly.

“Wait, this isn’t the memory we need,” I say, having a realization. “Is there a way we can fast forward or something?”

“Of course,” Lucy says. “But first, what exactly are you looking for?”

“This woman later went on to work at a strip club or something,” I explain. “And that place is involved with the conspiracy somehow.”

“So, she took her friend’s advice, then?” Lucy comments, shaking her head. “You hate to see it.”

“What? Why?” I question, surprised to see Lucy of all people being so conservative. “It’s her choice what to do with her life.”

“Of course. Her choice is valid… until it ceases to be her choice,” Lucy says cryptically. “But never mind that. Ashley, have you ever lucid dreamed before?”

“Yes, I have,” I say.

“Well, when you want to ‘change scenes’ in a lucid dream, what do you do?”

“Usually, I walk through a door, thinking really hard about what I want to be in the next room,” I answer.

“Well, Ashley. After you then,” she says, gesturing to the front door of the building.

We both walk inside, and we find ourselves in an entirely new scene. We’re inside what appears to be a hotel, a rather nice one at that. Faye is strutting through the hall, seemingly in a hurry. She looks slightly older than last time, but not by much. Her outfit is exceptionally promiscuous; she’s wearing a sleeveless shirt that leaves little to the imagination as far as her breasts go, as well as very short pink shorts. She is totally dolled up with lipstick and make-up, and her face looks worried and anxious.

She turns towards a door near the end of the hallway and knocks a few times. She looks worse than Zoe before an audition or test; she’s so nervous she looks like she’s about to burst into tears at any moment.

A middle-aged man opens the door. He has very short, balding brown hair, and a rugged, round face with a five-o-clock shadow. Upon seeing Faye, his face breaks into a smile. “Ah, Faye my dear, it’s good to see you.”

“We need to talk,” Faye says, turning her eyes away from him and hugging herself.

“Ah, of course. Why don’t you come inside?” he says.

She gulps, her breathing shallow and quick. She steps into the hotel room, which has various clothes littering the floor, and various bottles, some empty, across the tables and counters. Lucy and I step in behind her, and then the man closes the door.

“I can’t do it anymore,” Faye bursts out as soon as the door closes. “I’m so, so sorry, I just, I need to get away, it’s too much…”

“What is this?” the man says. “You were our top star. You can’t quit on us now.”

He steps up to her, trapping her against the wall in an intimidating way and looking down at her. “How will you pay off your student loans, little lady?”

“I… I’ll have to find another way,” she says bravely, looking up at him. “But this is…”

“You won’t,” he says in a low voice, cutting her off. “What are you going to do? Get another job? As if anyone would hire a whore.”

“I… I…” she’s trembling, seeming at a loss for words.

“You’re good at this. You’re better off sticking to it,” he continues, walking away from her and grabbing a bottle from next to the TV. “And I have a feeling nothing else is going to work out for you. Call it… professional expertise.” He takes a large swig from the bottle, while Faye remains silent. “Truthfully, I’m hurt you’d try and walk out on me. I’d like an apology, please.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she says meekly.

He slams the bottle down. “How about you show me how sorry you are, you worthless slut!”

He quickly starts to walk back towards her, to which she finally breaks down and tears the door open. She sprints outside, panicked, and runs down the hallway as quickly as she can. The man follows her to the door, but then just stops and watches her run, a menacing look on his face.

“You see what I mean, Ashley?” Lucy says, her voice a bitter growl. “I’m not judging what a woman does with her life. But men who go after vulnerable young women and exploit them… they will be judged with fire and brimstone.”

“Who is this man?” I ask her, feeling utter repulsion and fury at what I just witnessed. “We can track him down. We can make him confess to all of this. We can ruin him.”

“I have plans to deal with him in due time,” Lucy says. “But for now, let’s remain on task.”

“Right. True,” I say. “Further ahead, I think.” We both walk through the door to his hotel bathroom.

It immediately becomes clear that we didn’t go far enough. We arrive in a dingy alleyway, and Faye is sitting on the ground, crying into her lap. I would’ve thought this came directly after the last memory, except it’s nighttime now, and she’s wearing a different colored shirt.

“I don’t think this is it either,” I tell Lucy. “Let’s…”

I briefly stop as another figure walks into the scene. A casually dressed black man, carrying a weird-looking cigarette and seeming very mellowed and relaxed, walks into the alleyway. He stops when he sees Faye. For a moment he looks at her, his eyes glazed over. Then, he takes another hit and says, “You good, ma’am?”

“Just go away!” she shouts at him, not looking up. “I’m tired of you pimps! Leave me alone already!”

“I ain’t no pimp!” he says. “I’m just here enjoying the night, you know?”

She doesn’t answer, and just continues crying into her legs.

“Hey, you need like, a ride, or food, or something?” he offers before taking another hit.

“I’m not ‘for sale’ right now!” she says firmly. “Go find some other whore.”

“Huh? No, I don’t need a whore. I was just wondering.”

Her crying finally starts to cool down, and she looks up at him. “You mean… you don’t want ‘something in return?’”

“Nah. I’m good,” he says obliviously. “You look like you need some help though, miss. You lost? Where do you live? I’ll drive you home.”

“What were you saying?” Lucy says.

“Oh, right,” I say. “Let’s keep moving forward in time.”

It takes several more attempts to finally get to the right point in the timeline. Along the way, Lucy and I see more glimpses of her life. Of her and that black man from the alley falling in love, and getting married. Of the two having a baby “boy” named “Maurice…” Of course, that’s actually Charlotte. I see the family moving to Enchantment City, and Charlotte growing up in their apartment. Most of the memories we see for a while involve Charlotte, whether it’s Faye sticking Charlotte’s crude, early drawings to the refrigerator, or Charlotte and Jason having sleepovers… we eventually get to the teenage years, and I see Charlotte coming out to her parents as “gay,” and then later coming out as trans. Both instances went far better than my own coming out experiences, I’ll just say that much.

Finally, we reach our destination. We come through a door, and see Faye sitting in a plain white room, with mirrors on one wall. Faye is sitting at the counter, checking herself in the mirror and applying makeup. She’s wearing… there’s no way around this… a really sexy bunny costume. She looks basically identical to when I saw her at Charlotte’s apartment just now, except for, you know, the clothes.

“I think this might be it,” I tell Lucy. “This must be that strip club she worked at.”

“Whatever it is, it’ll be a memory she has a strong emotional attachment to,” Lucy explains. “Let’s see what happens.”

A young looking man sticks his head through the door. “Almost ready, Mrs. Viridian?” he says. “You’re on in five!”

“Yeah, I’ll be ready,” she says.

“You look lovely as always tonight,” he says.

“Thanks,” she says carelessly.

The man leaves, and for a while Faye just sits there and finishes her makeup routine. She closely examines her reflection in the mirror, seemingly looking for any possible imperfection. There is a thump from the hallway, which she doesn’t immediately notice, engrossed as she is.

But then, someone else comes to the door. I’m rather alarmed to see that it’s a very thin girl who’s about my age, with olive-colored skin and long, black hair. She watches Faye for a moment, but Faye notices her and turns around. The girl is startled, and starts to walk backwards away from the room.

“Hello?” Faye calls. She quickly gets up from her chair and goes to meet the girl in the hallway. The girl simply freezes in place and stares at her blankly.

“Oh, sweetheart. You must be lost. This is an adults-only area, do you understand?” Faye explains kindly. “Here, I’ll help you find your way. Where are your parents, dear?”

The girl hesitates, looking around. And then, she says, “My parents are in… in…”

“In the restaurant next door?” Faye offers helpfully.

“In… donesia,” the girl says.

“Huh?” Faye says, nonplussed, fidgeting with her bunny hood. “In-do… like the country?” she frowns for a moment. But then, slowly, the realization hits her. Her eyes go wide, her face goes totally pale- she starts to breathe heavily. “No,” she says softly. “No, no, no…”

“Miss, are you okay?” she asks.

“Yes… yes, I’m okay,” Faye says. “How… did you get here?”

“I came up the stairs,” the girl says simply.

“The stairs? There are no stairs here,” Faye says. “I mean, how did you get to America?”

They hear footsteps and chattering voices from an adjacent hallway. Faye suddenly snaps to attention and says, “Never mind that. I’m going to get you out of here, okay? Stay quiet, stay close to me, and walk fast. Do you understand?”

The girl nods.

Faye quickly throws on a jacket and a pair of pants that were sitting on the counter, tears off the bunny hood, and then starts to quickly walk through the halls with the girl, one arm wrapped around her.

She takes her down a series of identical, dingy hallways, before reaching a door that goes outside. However, before they can reach it, two men catch sight of them, and one of them shouts, “HEY!”

“Let’s go!” Faye says firmly, her and the girl breaking into a full run.

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?” The two men chase after them. The Indonesian girl trips, falling to the ground, allowing the men to catch them. The girl is grabbed by the torso by one of the men, to which she bursts into tears. The other man cruelly shoves Faye down to the floor.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?” She shouts at them. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT GIRL?”

“I’d be more worried about yourself, Viridian,” the man says. “Your position at Play Hard Gentleman’s Club is hereby terminated. And if you don’t get lost, you may find yourself in jail, guilty of smuggling underage children into an adults-only area.”

“You bastards! You can’t cover up the truth!” she says defiantly, getting back up to her feet.

“I think you’ll find nobody’s going to listen to a stupid woman like you,” he says. He yanks open the door and throws her outside, kicking her in the rear on the way out with the flat of his shoe.

The night is dark, only the slightest hint of dawn forming on the horizon, and I recognize the scenery around us as being the city of Austin. The door slams close, leaving Faye on the ground again, crying on her side.

“Well Ashley. I think that was the evidence you were looking for,” Lucy says.

“It sure was,” I say, feeling so furious that I’m slightly worried I’ll burst into my flame princess form again. “I’m gonna find this place and burn it to the ground.”

Ted and I hurtle across the courtyard after the second man. He is just trying to open the back door of the van when we intercept him. I let Ted take a shot on him, worried that one of my broader-ranged attacks may hit Charlie. The man must have some sort of armor that protects him, because he only winces at the gunshot, and then turns on me. I run up while he’s disoriented and punch him hard in the chest, knocking him down.

Ted tears off the duct tape covering Charlie’s mouth, to which Charlie starts screaming incomprehensibly, seemingly in a full blown panic. We need to get him back to the real world ASAP. The man I knocked down is trying to get back up, so I whack him in the side of the head with the butt of my shotgun, which seems to knock him unconscious. I then rummage around his robes and find his cell phone. It seems that like us, he uses this to travel back and forth between worlds.

I turn back to Ted and Charlie, to see that Ted has completely untied the ropes around him. I prepare to make our exit, when an intense electric shock runs through me… I am momentarily unable to move, and fall on my face to the ground, the cell phone tumbling out of my hands several feet away from me. Ted desperately starts to take shots at whoever is behind me, but soon he is hit with an electric attack too.

“Charlie! Grab the phone, press the red button!” I command him, finding I can still move my mouth.

“Wh-What?” he says.

“Grab phone! Press red!” I repeat. I feel a hand on my foot, dragging me backwards. I tried to kick whoever it is, but my legs are useless.

Charlie dives blindly for the cell phone, and then quickly disappears. I breathe a huge sigh of relief. We saved him!

“You are going to repay us for that, little girl,” a man’s voice says. I am picked up and thrown into the back of the van. There are two more men, also wearing capes, one of whom must have been shot by Ted, as he is bent over and holding his side in pain. The uninjured man grabs Ted and chucks him into the back with me. A third man is trying to revive the one I took out.

“Bring them back to the base,” the injured man orders. “And tell Ms. Patel that we discovered who our meddlers are.” The other man slams the door to the back of the van, and then it is silent.