Yuku free message boards

Criss bounded into the production office with a calculating look on his face that could only mean trouble. JD looked up at his brother and stopped what he was doing as he saw this and thought, Oh great. What's going to happen this time?

Costa noticed too and asked, "Okay, what are you planning?" Please let it be something safe for once, something that involves puppies...

"I want to lay down on broken glass and get run over by a steamroller," replied Criss.

I thought too soon, he thought as JD cursed softly.

"Criss, do you seriously want to give us a heart attack?" asked JD. "Because if you do, just let me know right now instead of saying you want to do stuff like that."

"You're not the one that's doing it, though," Criss replied, "so I don't see why you're freaking out."

"I'm freaking out because it's my brother that wants to do it to himself."

Criss rolled his eyes. "You say that about all of my illusions."

"Because all of your illusions have to include self harm, Criss," Costa interrupted. "You've had everything else on the sun before, from drowning to being shot by different things, but a steamroller?"

"If you're not flattened like a pancake, you'll not be able to walk for a while, Criss. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" asked JD.

Criss' resolve was set. "Yes."

"And you're sure you've thought this through?" JD tried one last time to convince his brother to do otherwise. It didn't make him feel any better when Criss nodded.

"You know what you need, Criss?" asked Costa. "You need Cher to come into the room, smack you and say 'Snap out of it!'"

Criss laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure that's what I need right now. A woman to try and convince me to do otherwise."

"Well, you never know," replied JD. "That may be what you need. Don't knock it until you try it."

Criss rolled his eyes at his brother's antics. They must be crazy. A girlfriend is the last thing I need right now.

Criss entered his suite, feeling weary after a long day of filming, working up to his newest escape. He had gotten a lot of crazy looks today, not just from his brothers but from the rest of his staff. Then came the usual protests, almost like clockwork. But Criss didn't care, this was his life, his dream, the one thing he never ceased to find happiness in. He was disrupted from his thoughts by something rubbing up against his leg. He looked down, and his face softened when he saw Hammie.

"Hey, Hammie," he said, bending over to pick him up. "Have you been a good boy today?" He laughed when Hammie purred contentedly and bumped his chin with his head. "Alright, let's get you fed."

He refilled the food bowl and water bowl, then lay down on his couch as Hammie started eating. He wanted to get up, do something... but what? He looked around his suite, seeing the t.v., the pinball machine, the punching bag game, but nothing held his interest. I'm becoming... bored. The one man who had just about everything that he could possibly want in the world now had a craving for something else. He couldn't explain it. It was why he suggested something as outrageous as being run over by a steamroller. But then, something like that suddenly became another routine with the protests from his crew and family.

Maybe I do need a girl in my life, he thought, then quickly dismissed it. It seems that they had become somewhat of a routine to him too. They would make their advances, he would make his, then sooner or later along the line, he'd find that they only wanted him for the one thing that had nothing to do with him, and it would end just as quickly as it started when he pulled out the "money carpet" from underneath their feet. It had all become so predictable that he just stopped trying.

Hammie suddenly jumped on his owner's stomach and lay down facing him. He didn't understand why his owner was feeling as depressed as he is. Criss smiled and gently scratched him behind the ears. "You're not predictable, are you Hammie?" His response was to purr and start kneading his paws. Criss laughed gently, and continued to scratch him behind the ears. Criss was lost in his own world, not really thinking of anything when he drifted off to sleep...

Everything was almost hazy at first, he only saw two shapes... the haziness cleared little by little to find that it was two men fighting over something. One was trying to block the other from getting to him, the other was shouting at the both of them. Criss tried to make out what he was saying, but before he could, the second man overpowered the first one, knocking him backwards. He landed on the ground in front of Criss, on his stomach, and the man's head quickly snapped up, showing Criss his face...

...it was his own.

Costa entered Criss' room to find him asleep on his couch, Hammie curled up on his chest. He shook his head at his poor brother. Sometimes he thought that Criss was almost taking his overbearing schedule too far. Criss shifted and moaned in his sleep, and Costa was torn between waking him or letting him sleep.

In the dream, Criss stared at himself in shock, enough shock for him to realize he was dreaming. At that point, he could hear everything going on around him-- someone was yelling at them-- or was it him-- that they wouldn't be able to escape this time, he was going to make sure that he died, even if he had to cut off his head to do so. He saw himself wrap him up in a tight hug and whisper something in his ear... "Run. Just run anywhere, I'll find you. Go!"

In the real world, Costa had decided to just let him sleep. The poor guy needed all the strength he could get for his next stunt. He went to the coffee table next to the couch and set the folder with the production notes on it, when Criss moaned again.

"No.... noooooo, God no...." Criss also shifted, his arms jerking, startling Hammie. Hammie hissed in surprise and leapt off of his chest.

"Okay, time to wake him up," Costa said softly, and started shaking his shoulder.

The dream shifted as Criss let go to see a small figure scramble up and start running in the other direction... he realized it was a woman. Why would this guy want to harm someone as small and defenseless as her? A wave of protectiveness and anger rolled through him, and Criss jumped back up and tackled the strange man. They both fell to the ground, Criss on top, and he started hitting him. He saw a flash of silver in his right hand-- a gun-- and Criss grabbed his hand and started slamming it on the ground. He was punched in the face, Criss returned the favor, and the man's hand suddenly closed on his throat and squeezed. He gasped for air and clawed at his hand, and he was punched in the stomach three times, forcing the remaining air out of his lungs. He threw Criss to the side, and he stood and aimed the gun at her retreating back. Gasping for air, he scrambled to his feet... he pulled the trigger, and a single cry was torn from him as he woke...

Costa now noticed that Criss was becoming more desperate with whatever he was dreaming about...his breathing becoming faster, and he kept on knocking Costa's hands away from him. "Criss... Criss, WAKE UP!" he told his brother, feeling desperate for him... "CRISS!!"

"NOOOOOOO!!!" Criss sat up, panting heavily. He saw that he was on a couch... how did he get there? He was trying to stop that one guy from killing her... wasn't he? Someone grabbed his shoulder, and Criss jumped and shouted in alarm, turning to the person. He saw it was Costa and relaxed, fractionally...

"Criss, relax... it was just a nightmare. It's alright," Costa comforted. He pulled his brother into a hug, and Criss hugged him back tightly, trying to slow his racing heart and his breathing.

I was dreaming... oh, my God, it felt so real... It seemed like Criss couldn't stop shaking over this dream. He wanted to go back to sleep to try and save her, but the fear he felt was so real, he wasn't sure he'd be able to fall asleep ever again.

"Are you okay?" Costa asked him, concerned, and wondering what he dreamt of that made him act this way. It took awhile for the question to register in Criss' mind, and he just looked at his brother, unable to say anything.

~~

Isabella was lost in a nightmare when Mike went outside to wake her and bring her inside. He quickly rushed to her side and restrained her arms to keep from injuring herself and him. Her head was rolling from side to side and she was gasping for air, kicking her legs... as if she was running...

She woke with a sharp cry and struggled to get out of Mike's grasp. "Isabella... Isabella! Calm down, it's just me!" Mike said, grabbing her face, forcing her to look at him. She blinked in surprise, then threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. He hugged back, comforting her anyway he could.

Isabella was shaking and sobbing into Mike's shoulder. The dream she had was so real, so frightening... she didn't recognize the man who tried to save her, but the first man she knew well... it couldn't be possible...

She sobbed something into Mike's shoulder, and he pulled back. "What did you say, hun?"

"He is back... he is back... how is he back?" She pulled herself to him as she sobbed harder. Mike held her back, slowly rocking back and forth. He felt so sorry for his friend and wanted to help her, but felt helpless because he didn't know how...

Isabella's sleep was filled with broken fragments of the dream, mixed in with memories of her past. When she woke up the next morning, she felt so disoriented that it took her a few minutes to remember where she was. She turned over onto her side, not wanting to get out of bed. What am I going to do? I should leave... but what if he starts killing people again? I would have to stay and protect them, somehow. But Las Vegas is a big city, I do not know if I can protect them all.

A chilling thought entered her mind, making her sit up in bed. What if he wants to look for me next? What she had dreamed snapped into perspective, and it was exactly what she needed to drive her into action... she had to leave.

At that exact moment, however, Mike walked into the room. Isabella gasped and pulled her covers up around her. "Micheal! Have you no decency?"

Mike stopped. "I'm sorry, I just thought you'd want to see this." He held up a few papers.

"What is that?"

"Details from Joel's parole hearing," Mike stated, holding them out for her to take.

Isabella cautiously reached out from underneath the covers and took them from him. She quickly read through the first few paragraphs, then threw them down on her bed in disgust. They were detailing how Joel seemed like a changed man, always smiling, looking like he had truly changed his ways. Isabella knew that to be a complete lie. No one changes like that, ever.

She looked up when Mike gasped in shock. He was reading another small packet of papers, standing where he was when he gave her the first pack. "What are you reading?"

"I'm reading his first confession," he answered numbly.

Isabella pulled the top blanket around her, and stood from the bed. She walked over to him and started to pull the papers from his hand, so see if she was mentioned in detail in the confession. If any mention of her name was in there, she wouldn't be able to know how to explain her resemblance to Mike. When he realized what she was doing, however, he tightened his grip on the papers and pulled away slightly. He was thinking that she wanted to read it, which was fine with him, but after remembering that she knew one of the victims, he didn't want her to. Especially the shocking part he just read...

"You don't need to read this," he said.

"Give it to me," she ordered softly.

"Isabella... if you do read it, which I won't let you, you're not going to like it. At all."

That made her concerned about what he read, and if anything more determined to read it. She held her arm out to him, and he shook his head. "Micheal... do not make me take it from you."

"Isabella, please--"

"I want to know."

Mike gave in after a few minutes, and slowly handed it over to her. Isabella took it, and since she already knew what happened in the previous pages, having lived it, decided to start where Mike was. Joel was finishing discussing the details of the last murder, how he didn't know who she was, but she was still alive he was sure of it.

He continued on to say in detail what he did with her body after he killed her... which was apparently what he did with all of his victims after he killed them, before he buried them...

She was violated, and she didn't even know until just now.

Isabella dropped the papers as a wave of sickness rolled over her. She could hear her racing heartbeat in her head, and the world grew dark...

Mike caught her as he saw her start to faint. He instantly scolded himself for giving in to her, and set her gently down on her bed. He picked up all the papers, and left her in her room to throw them away. He wasn't sure if he could read that anymore. After calling Josh to tell him that Isabella wasn't going to be at work, he sat on the couch in silence, close enough to come quickly if she needed him, but far enough away to give her some time if she needed it. He couldn't think about anything else other than what he just read, he was so in shock.

How are they letting someone like him out? He's a complete monster! No wonder Isabella seemed so upset. He looked in the direction of her room, and prayed that she would be okay.

Criss woke up early the next morning, a dull headache pounding behind his eyes. He sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, wanting the pounding to stop...

He couldn't stop thinking about the dreams that he had. He didn't know if it was trying to tell him something, or what. "Maybe Costa was right. Maybe it is just some random dream," he told himself.

Okay then self, explain how you could see that murderer's face in your dream before you saw it on the television?

"Maybe I'm succumbing to my own little 'mindfreak'."

Yeah, right self. You may be good, but you're not that good. Admit it, you had that dream for a reason.

Criss' head started pounding harder. "Ugh, shut up mind. I'm getting a headache." He went into the bathroom, pulled out some aspirin and took a couple. He splashed his face with cold water to help wake him up, then trudged to his living room and sat on the couch.

JD chose that specific time to walk in to wake up his usually still sleeping brother. He paused in confusion to see him on the couch instead... wearing yesterday's clothes.

"Wow, someone looks like they had a rough night." He sat down next to Criss on the couch and peered closely at him. "Are you okay?"

Criss dragged a tired hand across his face before answering. "No, not really."

"Are you just now regretting the 'steamroller stunt'?"

Criss looked at JD in confusion before sitting up with a gasp. "Oh! The stunt! I almost forgot about that!" Criss had seized on that excuse to momentarily distract him from the huge problem that landed on his lap with the seemingly still growing list of questions that went along with it. "When is it, tomorrow? Oh, man, I need to prepare myself for it. Thanks for reminding me, JD," he said, hugging his brother, then going back into his room and shutting the door behind him.

JD just sat there in shock. He had wanted to try one last time to convince his brother not to do the stunt, but maybe if he kept his mouth shut that would've happened. He put his head in one hand and muttered, "I can't win. Never!" He was still grumbling to himself as he left the suite.

~~

Isabella came to in her bed. She wondered what she was doing in there still, she had woken up already... then what she had discovered slammed back into her mind, making her gasp. She started to cry as she rolled over onto her side, burrowing deeper into the comforter she had wrapped herself up in. If she never got out of her bed ever again, it would be too soon.

She didn't say anything when Mike walked in, then when he saw her distressed state lay on the bed next to her and hugged her. She needed his comfort yet wanted to be left alone. Out of all the lows she experienced in her life, this had to be the lowest she had ever felt.

"Why.......why this......?" she asked herself, sobbing harder.

Mike hugged her closer, feeling as bad as she felt. "Shhh, it's okay," he whispered, comforting her.

In reality, it wouldn't be okay. He was back to do the same thing to other innocent women. That cold thought made her sit up and turn to Mike. "I am going to stop him."

Mike sat up as well. "Who? Joel?"

Isabella nodded solemnly, wiping the tears from her face. "I am not going to allow him to do anything like that ever again."

"Wait, by the sounds of things, this guy could easily hurt you. You can't go and try to stop him, it's too dangerous."

"I will not try to stop him... I will succeed in stopping him." She was determined to put an end to her fear once and for all, no matter what it took... she couldn't leave Las Vegas, she had innocent lives to save... even if it killed her to stop him.