Folks, the disclaimers are now gonna start turning up.  If you're wondering
why they didn't show up earlier, that's because earlier I was keeping to
original characters.  (That was done to prevent people from complaining
because I killed off or otherwise mutilated their favorite character(s)...)
	So, here's the disclaimer:
	Many characters in this fic do not belong to me, they belong to someone else.
Not doing this for money.  Companies please don't sure, not only am I broke
but you already have a good deal of what was my money for an incredibly short
period of time.

Merry Christmas
By Ryo Hoshi

Chapter 2: Nightmares


	He was floating in darkness, accompanied only by memories and nightmares.
	Or, to be more spesific, one nightmare of a memory that seemed to be stuck in
a loop.
	The sensations themselves were disjointed somehow.  A room full of white fog
that isn't fog, black things attacking him, the feeling that all of this was
happening to someone else, getting shot in the chest yet feeling no pain, the
smell of sulfer, his father standing there with glased eyes as he was
attacked, something or someone dragging his unprotesting mother off.
	In the real world, he was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to half a dozen
machines.  The room was cold, yet his skin was glistening with sweat and his
lavender hair was limp.

		*** *** ***

	She was running from something.	What it was kept changging, but it was always
black and it was always humaniod in form.  However, one thing about it was
consistant: it was getting closer.  Her mind, for some reason she did no know,
kept telling her to find a sword; not any sword, but one sword whose name she
could never remember from one second to the next but she could always remember
what it looked like.
	Suddenly, the thing was on her.  She sat up with a silent scream and with the
shattering of glass.
	She sat, not thinking, as she calmed down.  She then started asking herself
questions.
	Who am I?  I don't remember.
	What do I need to do?  Find the sword.
	Why?  I don't know, but it must be, it is, important.
	She shook her head, admiring her hair, yet something at the back of her mind
insisted that it was the wrong color.
	But that, she thought to herself, was silly.  It had always been this color,
hadn't it?

		*** *** ***
	First person to figure out whose nightmare was covered in the first half of
this wins...
	...nothing.
	Who's this girl?  What's the @@@ sword she has to find, and why?  Shouldn't
this be about the poor police who are having to find the person (or persons)
responsible for the massacre?  Are there other survivors?  Why didn't he (you
know who I mean, baka!) fight back?  Am I gonna name the girl anytime soon?
	For the answers to these questions and more, stay tuned for Chapter 3: Child
of Light!
	(No garantees are made, the author reserves the right to hold the answers for
later chapters.)

*** *** ***   *** *** ***   *** *** ***
	Part three will be out tonight if I'm lucky...
	Any (good) C&C is appreciated, offers of help are wanted, and flames shall be
deleted.


		--Ryo Hoshi