After dropping off Janet and helping her finalize the apartment rental with Laura, Janet said her goodbyes. She was going back to her place to pack and would be moving in next week. She thanked Dean and Claire and left.
Since it was still early, Dean and Claire headed back to the cafe, went up to the third floor, and turned on the TV.
A news report was on: "The mummified body of a woman was found in a storage room under a staircase. The suspect, who was arrested in the master bedroom, is currently hospitalized, as it appears the victim fought back and severed his genitals before she was killed. This case remains a mystery because a neighbor claims to have seen the couple alive in the master bedroom just 15 minutes prior."
The screen showed a photo of the suspect, a man named Dylan, and the victim, Helga.
"Hmm, so NS put Helga's body in her ex-husband's house," Dean commented.
"Yeah, so it's a good outcome, right? The stinky guy Dylan is now the main suspect and has no balls, hehe," Claire replied.
"Hahaha, you're pretty creative," Dean said.
"Hehe, thanks," Claire replied.
Suddenly, both of their phones buzzed at the same time. They looked at each other, then grabbed their phones from the coffee table. A notification from their app's back end showed a new client.
=======================================
Request Data:
Name: Brandon Hall
Age: 32
Race: Human
Status: Healthy
Soul Value: $120,000
Target: Bianca Foster
Accept: Yes / No
=======================================
"Ugh, his soul is cheap," Dean grumbled.
"Yeah. Want to take it?" Claire asked.
"Sure, we're not doing anything else today anyway," Dean said, tapping "YES."
A map appeared in front of them. They stood up and put their phones away. A portal opened, and they stepped through it, entering the nightmare world.
They appeared in front of a dark, skyscraper-like building covered in black vines. A red moon hung directly over it. The front entrance was chained shut with barbed wire. Dean looked around and saw an entrance to a basement parking garage. Their map showed their destination was the 50th floor.
"Looks like we're in for a long and tiring trip. Let's go, Claire," Dean said.
"Okay, let's head in," Claire replied.
They walked toward the basement entrance and went down. As soon as they reached the bottom, a horde of zombies attacked them. They easily took care of the smaller ones, but then a giant, pot-bellied zombie with chain-like arms lumbered toward them. This zombie seemed to be guarding the elevator.
Dean leaped forward, and with a swift "shriiiing...shriing," he sliced the giant zombie in half. Claire, who had jumped in right behind him, went "swish...swish...swish," dicing the upper part of its body into tiny pieces. "Thud," the lower half of the massive zombie's body hit the ground with a loud noise. Dean landed, and Claire landed beside him.
"Clang," they bumped their weapons together in a high-five and smiled. "Ding," the elevator in front of them opened. It looked like a normal, bright, and slightly fancy elevator from the real world. They both walked in. "Clank," the doors closed, and Dean pressed the only button on the panel. The lift started to go up, and Dean leaned against the wall next to Claire.
"I thought we were going to have to take the stairs. Glad there's an elevator; now we won't be tired," Claire said.
"Yeah, you're right. Let's finish this quickly, and then we can open the cafe," Dean replied.
"Okay, deal," Claire said, then something occurred to her. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Mom and Dad are coming to drop off my suitcase, right?" she asked, turning to look at Dean.
"Hmm, we'll definitely be back in time. Don't worry. Like I said, in the nightmare world, time stops," Dean replied.
"Oh... right, that's true," Claire said, feeling a bit relieved.
After a long wait, "ding," the elevator opened, and "graaaaah," "craaak," Claire quickly raised her katana. A zombie that had been waiting right outside the door ran in and was immediately impaled. "Thump," Claire kicked the zombie's body off her blade. Dean leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, but then he turned to look at Claire.
"What?" Claire asked, looking back at him.
"You're really getting used to this, aren't you?" Dean said.
"Well... I had to. I was scared yesterday, but after seeing how peaceful our client was at the end of his life, I just got used to it," Claire replied.
"Hmm, you've got a point. Let's go," Dean said, walking out with Claire following behind him.
Once outside, they were in a long, dark tunnel that looked like a subway. Dean checked his map and turned to the right. Suddenly, "tooooot...tooooot," Dean and Claire looked back, their eyes wide. A steam train made of raw flesh and blood, with arms and a grotesque, bloody clown face on the front, was coming at them.
"Run, Claire!" Dean yelled, grabbing her hand.
"O-okay!" Claire shouted, starting to run.
They both ran as fast as they could, still holding hands, with the horrifying, disgusting meat train chasing them from behind.
"Huff... he's getting closer, Dean!" Claire yelled, looking back.
"Don't look back! Just keep running!" Dean shouted.
"So this is the tiring part, not the stairs... huuuh," Claire yelled.
Dean checked the map and saw a gap ahead that led to their destination. He pulled Claire and turned into the narrow opening. As soon as they were in, "tooooot...chugga...chugga," the long train, which looked like a raw sausage with windows, sped past them. "Huff... huff... huff," Dean and Claire leaned against the wall, catching their breath, their hands still clasped together. Claire looked at Dean beside her.
"So... now... where do we go?" Claire asked.
"Straight... that way," Dean said, pointing down the dark alleyway.
"O-okay," Claire replied.
"Just breathe for a second," Dean said.
"O-okay, me too," Claire responded.
*****
A few minutes later, they started walking down the dark alley. They eventually saw a bright light at the end of it. Carefully and staying on guard, they walked towards the light. The light grew bigger and bigger until it revealed a double wooden door, like an executive office, lit by a yellow spotlight. When they arrived and stood in front of it, they looked at each other and nodded.
Dean opened the door, and they walked in, still holding hands. They were back in the real world, in what looked like a high-level executive's office. In front of them, a man with neat hair, a rumpled suit that looked like he'd been wearing it since yesterday, and dress shoes was pacing back and forth in a panic.
"Are you Brandon Hall?" Dean asked.
Brandon stopped, turned, and saw Dean and Claire standing there in their nightmare world forms.
"Who are you?" Brandon asked rudely.
"Did you use this app?" Dean asked, showing him his phone.
"Ah, that's right. Please help me kill a woman named Bianca. I'll pay whatever it takes, just make sure she's dead," Brandon said.
"What's your reason for wanting to kill her?" Claire asked.
"I don't have to tell you the reason! Just do your job and stop asking questions!" Brandon yelled back in a panic.
But then, Brandon approached Claire and grabbed her hand, until Claire pulled her hand back and stared at him with her sharp, red eyes.
"Ah, sorry. You're pretty. Would you like to be a celebrity? I'm a talent manager looking for new stars," Brandon said, pulling a business card from his pocket and offering it to Claire.
Dean took the card and "rrrip," immediately tore it into tiny pieces and let them fall to the floor. "She's not interested," Dean said coldly. He was staring at Brandon, who was checking Claire out from head to toe, and then back up again. Brandon looked at Dean, who was glaring at him with his red eyes, and immediately raised his hands, gave a fake smile, and backed away.
"Okay, okay, I won't offer again. Please just do your job," Brandon said.
"Okay," Dean said, turning to Claire. "Let's go."
"Yeah," Claire replied, turning away but still watching Brandon.
As soon as they stepped out of Brandon's office, "bwuuuung," a screen popped up in front of their faces.
=======================================
Target: Bianca Foster
Age: 19
Occupation: Nursing student
Evil deeds: ERROR
Victim: ERROR
Status: Dying
Position: ERROR
Record: ERROR
Exp: ERROR
Soul Value: $7,500,000
=======================================
"Huh... what does this mean? Since when does the target have soul value?" Dean asked.
"Wow... her soul value... it's so high," Claire murmured.
["Hohoho, this is interesting."]