I'm sorry this took so long, I've been really busy with work. But I hope you enjoy the first oneshot of my Ghostbusters AU :).
After the incidents of June 1984, and 1989, the US government agreed to sponsor a project in 2003 to keep all of the country safe. It was formed to protect the country from the Animators and horrors of the Fifth Dimension.
After the retirement of Dr. Venkman and Winston Zeddemore, Dr. Spengler and Dr. Stantz prepared a project to train and put recruits into the field with functioning Proton packs all across America.
They called this group the GhostCorps.
Ulysses always had these nightmares. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure what they were. They were a strange amalgamation of a nightmare and lucid dreaming. In these “lucid nightmares”, Ulysses was able to walk around a strange environment that he could only guess was how he imagined the Spirit World. The Fifth Dimension.
It always reminded him of the movie Inception. He still didn’t understand the movie, but all he knew was that the people in the movie created the environments they were dreaming about from their imagination. He must have had a big imagination for something like this.
The most he was able to do was walk around, move things, and that was all. For some reason in these dreams, he was never able to speak. But he assumed it was just part of the nightmare.
The world looked similar to the one he lived in now. He was in his apartment in New York. Utica, New York that is. More like, the apartment he lived in outside of his dreams. In his dreams, it was empty, which he never understood. But it was a dream, what was there to understand?
He was standing where his bed was, and he sighed to himself. He had normal dreams sometimes, but rarely.
He looked out the window into the foggy, orange tinted sky. The detail that always filled him with dread. He couldn’t get used to it.
I don’t want to go out there, he thought to himself.
Normally, he would go out and wander. There was nothing better to do with the amount of time he spent there. If he stayed, usually something would… find him. And he would wake up.
Ulysses sat on the floor roughly, silence ringing in his ears.
He always thought there was a reason for all of this, but he could never figure out what. There was nothing here except the ghosts and specters that always plagued his dreams.
He flinched when the silence was broken by soft thuds under him. Large, but meaningful steps that were coming closer.
Ulysses just wanted a normal dream, or even not one at all. He was tired of waking up in a panic after what he had just seen, sweat sliding down his temple. As if all of the chasing and running had been real.
He stood up and quickly pressed his ear to the door.
The footsteps seemed to keep their pace, but that didn’t comfort him. He could run for the roof, he knew that that was really the only way out. And then he could go down through the fire escape.
One thing that was strange is that, in these dreams, every room, every building, and every landmark was the same. Always. He could go into parts of this apartment complex that he had never been before, and they would be the same in real life.
Ulysse tried not to think about it too hard, it wasn’t like he’d ever get a straightforward answer to all of this.
He slowly creaked his door open to peer through the hallway, the steps were louder now. He needed to move fast.
Ulysses quickly ran towards the stairs, where he could hear the steps clearly now. Whatever it was, it was big. And fast.
He made sure to take careful, but fast steps through the stairs. Hopefully he could get to the roof.
Even if he was dreaming, and he was aware of it. He was still scared to jump. In these dreams, running or anything never affected his stamina, so his pace never wavered.
Once he finally got to the roof, he ran to the edge where there was a large ledge that was waist high. Like a wall.
He stared at the door, gripping the ledge tightly.
I need to talk to a doctor or something. I can’t do this anymore, he thought to himself.
He turned and looked down to the ground. He didn’t do well with heights…
Ulysses whipped around when the door flung open, making a loud bang as it slammed into the wall it was mounted on.
In the doorway was a large… thing.
It looked like a gargoyle that had come to life, something he had never seen before in his dreams. But it was on fire. It was made of stone, and it was on fire.
Ulysses wanted to scream, but nothing ever came out.
He had heard of these before, they were around when there was a small situation in 1991. It was a smaller paranormal event than the ones in 1984 and 1989, but it still caused significant damage.
It stomped towards him faster than he could think of what to do and grabbed his neck with its strong, stone claw.
Oddly, he could not feel the heat of the fire or any burning, but the straining on his neck was unnoticeable.
He gasped for air, kicking at the thing's arms. But it never reacted.
Sounds that sounded inhuman began to come from its mouth, like it was trying to tell him something. But what was it?
He stopped thinking about it when he was lifted off his feet, and slowly pulled over the edge of the building. There was nothing under him now.
He didn't move now, out of fear he might be dropped.
He felt a ping of shock the moment he was dropped, because he knew it was over.
He knew he woke up screaming, but he couldn't hear it in his own ears.
He threw himself up, as if the gargoyle would be there again in his room. In the dark, empty apartment.
But after thoroughly checking the shadows on the walls and ceiling, he realized he was alone again. And alive.
Ulysses began to let his breathing slow down, digging his hands into his mop of curly brown hair.
He was sweating profusely, he quietly stared at the floor.
"I'm fine… M'fine…" He murmured to himself, and to reassure himself that he had a voice in this world.
He looked over at his alarm clock that had survived throughout his whole childhood, it read: 2:42.
Ulysses sighed, he couldn't ever go back to sleep when he had those dreams. And he wasn't going to try either.
He laid back down in his bed and stared at the ceiling. The streetlights shined in dimly through the windows above the head of his bed. There was something nice about it that he liked. The way it casted light onto his ceiling. It was calming.
Usually his mother wanted him to call her after these dreams happened, no matter what time. But he wasn't going to do that. He didn't want to wake her at the time.
He stayed quiet the rest of the night, and never noticed the marks of struggle that littered his neck.