[DRAFT. CURRENTLY UNEDITED]
Carlos is calm through it all. He is a trained extrospector, after all. He has seen the godworms’ tricks dozens of times before. Yet he spins towards the earth just as helplessly as Ben. It’s not his psyche that provides the medium for this dream. He steadies himself in the air, now on route to belly flop the ground. Ben is still spinning, flailing his limbs about like a drowning insect, a few yards away. Carlos reaches out to him. If he can just make contact, maybe there’s still a chance to pull up out of this nosedive. Not literally, the fall is only illusory. But the panic it draws out of Ben will be deadly very soon if not stopped.
The grassy field below constantly rushes up at them, threatening their always imminent splatter. Yet they continue to fall. Like an optical illusion the moment of impact is always approaching but never arrives. Carlos has seen this specific trick plenty of times before. Falls from a great height are an easy, primitive way to conjure fear. Somewhere above them, the mothman screeches. A monster like that is far much less common. Something so specific can’t be found in the basal layers of the human mind. The godworm had to go deeper for that form. This troubles Carlos. Between the strength of this specimen and the unsteadiness of its host, standard procedure extraction may not be enough.
His fingers snag the hem of Ben’s sock, he secures his grip to his ankle. As he pulls their bodies closer together, Ben continues to shriek. In his flailing panic his shoes slams into Carlos’s jaw. The pain is dull however, a flimsy dream sensation, vanished as soon as Carlos asserts his calm onto it.
“Ben!” He has to shout over the sound of the wind and screaming. Another cry from the mothman joins the din. It wants Ben’s mind all to itself. Carlos feels its attempts to force him out, fraying his psychic tether. He manages to place a hand on each cheek of Ben’s face. With as much gentleness as the current situation allows, he guides his line of sight towards his own. “Look at me! Don’t look down!” He says, exaggerating the mouthing so Ben might read his lips if he can’t hear him.
Unfortunately, Ben looks down.The godworm takes the opportunity to make a decisive gambit. Their bodies crash into the ground and in the very last moment before impact, Ben’s panic hits a crescendo that feeds the worm enough to snap Carlos’s tether.
He is in the hospital room. Crouching on solid tile. Staring into Ben’s spacey comatose gaze. He jolts upright. Grace looks at him like he’s got a bomb strapped to his chest. Her square jaw clenches itself squarer.
The unspoken tension is not undetected by the nurse. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, we’re fine. I apologize, we’re a little shocked by this.” Grace, flashing a practiced expression of professional concern. “Mr. Torres and I have some confidential matters to discuss.”
Carlos is hesitant to leave Ben’s bedside but his boss is insistent. He follows her to the corner of the large multi-bed room while the nurse looks on. “I have to get back in there.” He whispers as soon as they are out of earshot. His low voice is hard to keep private.
“It forced you out? What happened?” Grace hisses through clenched teeth.
“This is a strong one. It’s already at the memory stage. I need to get back in now.”
“If it's that far along, we call this one a loss. Distract the staff if you can, I’ll capture it. We can.” She has already withdrawn a mirror helm from her messenger bag.
“No, he’s not gone yet! I just need-”
“Carlos. Part of this job is knowing when to cut a loss. You were going to lose one eventually.”
“Not this one, not today.”
“Cover up will be my responsibility if this thing matures.”
“There’s going to be a cover up if we throw a mirror helm on a patient in the middle of a hospital too!”
“You are wasting time.”
“He’s young, Grace. I haven’t lost one yet. I’m the best extractor the agency’s got. Please.”
The nurse eyes their back and forth impatiently. “Fine.” Grace says. Maybe she has some respect for his yet unblemished record, maybe she’s got a soft spot for Ben, or maybe she just considers any chance at avoiding a mountain of cover up is worth taking. She produces a thick stack of fake documents from her bag to occupy the nurse with for another few moments, giving Carlos another chance. He finds the pinprick focus of Ben’s eyes, still present, thank god, but fading. It takes longer this time to get in. The nurse casts a few baffled glances his way, and is maybe about to say something. But then the connection clicks and she and the rest of the hospital are replaced by the seething dark in Ben’s head.