Warning: Slight Mental torture

Everything was so still. The possessed were trying in vain to break my barrier and wreck havoc into the world. I knew that it was in vain for them but the distressed look on their faces made me wonder what tortures they were going through.

Sherlock had managed to stagger to his feet and faced The Woman.

"You are not real. Get out of here." He snapped and willed her to disappear. This was the Dream Dimension and the only rule there was that there were no rules. Which essentially meant that he could,in theory do everything. This was not a case that required a lot of brain work. This was a fight that required your instincts and your common sense.

Stephen whirled around to face the laughing Dormammu. He gritted his teeth,"You do not belong here and neither are you here. Get out."

Dormammu looked startled for a second before he laughed again,"Of course not. But you are going to see me again. No bargains this time." Those words alone was enough to send chills down his spine,although he was pretty sure that this was an illusion. But something told him that this was true and that he was going to meet him again. Which he was not interested to,unless he had a time stone.

The symbol of Dormammu hovered above them trying to ensnare them but failing.

Thankfully Dormammu finally dissipated leaving Stephen alone for a moment before a black blur knocked him down.

"For the love of Hippocrates,Sherlock!"

Sherlock was already back on his feet though he looked deathly pale.

"I am sorry but I believe that the others have not quite been able to break their illusions." Sherlock intoned,tonelessly.

Stephen felt dread curling up in his stomach even as he followed Sherlock where they assumed Hamlet was. But it did not really prove to be that fruitful because the dreamscape was changing ever so sudden which made it impossible to follow any fixed path.

Sherlock smacked his own head,"I have been an idiot."

Stephen raised an eyebrow.

"We can just will it to take us to the others."

Stephen sighed,"We have to defeat Nightmare first otherwise its not really much of use trying to make it warp to our own will."

Sherlock pursued his lips but didn't say anything. Probably because he trusted Stephen in the matters of magic. Or perhaps because he was too sick of finding his own way around.

"So how do we we call him?" He asked Stephen,"Do we like shout,Hiya Nightmare,wanna have tea?" Stephen snorted.

Ophelia walked a lonely road with thorns. She couldn't seem to stop or to avoid the thorns that pricked her feet. She felt detached like she was watching this from another person's eyes. She felt her skin break and her blood start dripping but she could care less about her physical self.

Laertes walked with her but he was on a lush green field. He was passing some cruel remarks with Hamlet and Horatio behind her. Polonius constantly reminded her what a failure she was. Tears fell freely from her eyes but she did not care. What was there to care about,anymore? No one loved her. Hamlet sneered at her and said,"Pathetic." The others laughed like it was the best joke of the century. Which probably it was. She was a joke. Her life was pointless. Useless.

Suddenly the scene around her morphed yet again as the ground under her gave away and she started to fall. Flames awaited below her but she never reached them. She stared up at the closing sky. Then something seemed to register when the distracting voices of the others were not there. She dimly remembered Stephen telling that whatever horrors she would face would be fake. Even as she thought so,the area around her shimmered. She screamed at the flames,"This is not true. This is not real." The flames seem to frown as they suddenly escalate making Ophelia regret her words.

Just as the flames close around her,the world morphed into the corridor that had been there when they had entered.

She ran headlong into Sherlock who fell down. She quickly jumped up and he got up as well when she heard Stephen's voice,"Good thing that you made your way here." She chuckled weakly just as a black horse swooped around her and comes to a stand in front of them.

On it sat the figure that immediately summons terror and repulsion at once with it's stringy greasy dead black hair and un healthily shrunken deathly pale face and burning soulless eyes.

Nightmare had decided to confront them.

Dormammu's sign quivered above the possessed as I put all my effort into that barrier.