Later that night, the Monarossabergie House roommates are strolling down the players’ lot in the frigid January night. Well, more like Joseph is fuming ahead of Brandon and Nick by a few yards away.

Nick nudges his friend. “Hey, I’m gonna get something to eat. I’ll have Stefan drop me off at the house. You guys go without me.”

Brandon stops walking, having Nick stop as well. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’d get something to eat with you guys, but Crammer doesn’t seem to be in the mood to do so.” Nick’s eyes travel ahead, catching sight of Joseph’s storming.

Brandon nods his head. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” He smiles at him. “See you later!”

Nick then turns around and trudges away from him.

Brandon rushes over to Joseph, who is nearing his Jeep. He pulls out his keys and unlocks the vehicle. He then gets in as his roommate climbs into the passenger’s seat.

“Nicky ditched us to grab something to eat.” Brandon puts on his seatbelt. “We’ll just go home.”

“Hm,” is all Joseph says.

Brandon then turns on the Jeep and drives out of the lot.

---

The Jeep finally arrives at the front of the Monarossabergie House. It rolls into the driveway of the house and is turned off.

Brandon pulls the keys out of the ignition. He then eyes the passenger, who is mumbling in a sulking tone. “What?”

Joseph shoots a harsh glare at him. “Nothing.”

“You’re mumbling.”

He looks ahead with the same dark expression. “I know.” He then unbuckles his seatbelt, opens the door, and clamours out of the vehicle.

Brandon scrambles out of the car and follows his storming roommate through the front yard. “You know, you can talk to me…”

Joseph continues stalking ahead of him; Brandon finally catches up to him. Then he begins his rant: “Well, that stupid trade gave us the stupid lose to the stupid Checkers and if Maxi was still here, we would've won!”

“At least it wasn't four to one…”

Joseph stomps up the porch’s steps and continues on: “We lost our winning streak of the new year because of the stupid trade!” He halts in the porch and spins to face his roommate. “If Maxi wasn't traded, we would've been undefeated in the new year and been on a three-winning streak! But no, the stupid GM had to issue the stupid trade and trade Maxi!!!” He then swings his fist against the door.

BAM!

Brandon grimaces at the bruised fist that is against the door’s smooth surface.

Joseph pulls his fist back and cups it with his other hand. He shoots a deadly glare at the undented door as he clenches his teeth to suppress the rising pain.

Brandon glances at him. “There is a door knob, if you remember--”

Joseph throws the door open and storms inside. Brandon follows him into the house.

The inside is completely pitch black; the only light is from the streetlights that are outside. He senses Joseph standing next to him.

“Where is that stupid light switch?” Joseph mutters angrily. Brandon then hears his irked footsteps echoing away from the foyer.

“It's right over here.” Branon steps to the side of the door and runs his hands up and down the smooth wall in search of the light switch. “It's suppose to be here…” He now utilizes his two hands to paw for the light switch. “Where did it go?”

“Just what we need: a stupid power outage right after a stupid lose!” his roommate barks from the living room.

Brandon steps down to the living room warily. “A power outage is not going on--” He looks over his shoulder to get a glance of the window. “--the streetlights are working perfectly well--”

Suddenly, a force yanks Brandon backward, pulling him through the dark and planting his feet on the ground. Right on contact, a yellow-green, glowing circle forms around Brandon’s shoes. “Whoa!” He pushes his body forward to escape from the circle, but the same force tugs him back harshly.

Brandon begins wiggling in the clutches of the invisible restraint. “I can't move! I can't move!”

“GET ME OUT OF THIS STUPID CIRCLE!!!” Joseph bellows a few feet ahead of him.

Brandon halts his struggling and peers up, seeing Joseph in the same predicament as him. “Joey!” he cries out.

Joseph uses all strength to get out of his transparent restraints. He is vigorously thrusting his body from side to side, yet is staying in place. “GET! ME! OUT!”

“Shhhhhhh…,” a calming, yet sinistrous voice, is heard from the darkness. “No need to struggle and wiggle like helpless people... I'll let you guys go...soon.”

Instantaneously, four more luminous circles with the same colour pop up around from the darkness, connection Brandon’s and Joseph’s circles to make one massive circle. In the new, four circles are Matt, Ryan, Stu, and Bryan, all in the same predicament.

Brandon’s eyes fly open at the sight. “You guys!”

“Monty!” Matt cries out in panic.

“What is going on?” Joseph growls ahead of him.

“I decided to gather you all together for a festive gathering…,” the same ominous voice replies.

Then the owner of the voice strolls into view: A man draped with a black cape and dressed in navy blue behind it. His face is concealed by navy blue, red, and white goalie mask with a tinted visor in place of the mask.

Once he makes it to the centre of the circle, he spins around to face Ryan and Bryan. “Like it?”

Ryan makes an odd look at him. “Who are you?”

On the other hand, Bryan has a stoked expression. “Whoa! Sick mask! Where'd you get it?”

“I made it myself.” The masked stranger brushes his shirt elegantly. “Thank you for asking so enthusiastically, Mr. Moore.”

Bryan to turns to his right, where Stu is being held. “I want that for my birthday.” He then looks down at himself and mutters excitedly to himself. “Note to self: number twenty-two on my birthday list: epic helmet.”

Stu eyes his friend with pressed lips. “You know, your birthday is more than four months away...”

“If you fail to plan, you plan to fail! Gotta be prepared!” Bryan flashes him a massive grin.

Stu gives him an unamused expression.

“But who are you?” Ryan asks the strangely dressed man again.

The man twirls around to face him, his cape sweeping to his motion majestically. “Ah, yes! Where are my manners?” He places a gloved-hand over his chest. “You can call me Icemare.”

Bryan stares at him in a daze. “Nightmare…,” he says mindlessly.

“Ice...mare…,” Icemare corrects him slowly.

“Night...mare…,” Bryan says in the same tone as him.

“ICEmare!” everyone else shouts at him in unison.

Bryan blinks in realization. “Oh.”

Icemare whirls around to face the others. “Thank you for backing me up on that.” He extends his index finger at Bryan, who is now behind him to his right. “Your friend here's a little something else, eh?”

Joseph, who is directly facing the masked man, scrunches his face in disgust. “What friend? He's not my friend.”

Bryan gapes at him with sadden, wide eyes.

“He's my teammate,” Joseph finishes off.

“Bryan Moore, number twenty-three of the San Diego Gulls.” Bryan pulls a massive smile on his face. “Want my autograph, Mr. Nightmare?”

“Bryan!” Stu hisses at him.

Bryan turns his head up to him. “What? I think there's something going on between us.” He nods toward Icemare.

“I did not bring you guys to chitchat and exchange remarks and autographs,” Icemare informs them sophisticatedly, yet harshly. “I come here to inform you guys of your future.

Bryan’s eyes light up with interest. “Ooo, fortune telling time! Tell me, am I gonna be in the NHL?”

Icemare lowers his masked head. “Do I look like a fortune teller to you?”

Bryan rolls his eyes to aside. “Who knows, fortune tellers look funky.” He then lands his eyes back at him. “Like you.”

“I thought you said my mask was sick.” He brushes his fingers down the smooth side of his mask.

“Yeah, out-of-the-ordinary sick! It's cool! I really like the--”

“Ugh, I'm going nowhere with you!” With a flick of his cape, Icemare whirls to his right and forcefully strides off of the inside of the circle, disappearing in the outer darkness. He then quickly returns in the same matter. “There.” He halts back in his position right on the centre and clasps his hands behind his back. “Now I can speak.”

Bryan begins to move his mouth, but no sound is coming out from it. He looks down at his mouth as best as possible; a bewildered look crosses his face.

Icemare then plunges into his speech: “I brought you all here today to inform you of your future. Your beloved Maxi Friberg is gone...who is going to protect you now from me?” He places his hands on his chest. “Recently, I've wanted to have you guys in the palm of my hand…” He extends his hand out in front of him with his eyes on it. “...and now I have.” He closes his extended hand into a fist. “You guys are under my control, none of you guys can move, eh?” He peers around his hostages, dropping his hand. “Mm-hm, what I thought.” He nods his head sternly.

“I have a plan, a great plan I would so dearly love to succeed. But someone, or should I say some people, are blocking my way. And those people turn out to be you guys and your team.” He spins around his heels with his pointer finger out all of them “So with that--” He stiffens up with authority. “--I am going to swipe you over to the sidelines--bench you guys from the game of, eh, the life as you know it.” He swipes his hand across his body. “No worries, hopefully no serious harm will be done.

He holds up his index finger. “Watch out for the Midas touch syndrome: You guys won't have it, but some of your household objects will.” Then with a floating gesture of both of his hands, everyday household objects trapped in mystical energy with the same yellow-green colour as the circles drift into view, rounding him.

“Whichever of you touch these objects will be cursed until another object with a cure is touched.” He then waves his hand smoothly in the air. The objects fly off and in return, a new set of objects come into view in the same fashion.

Then Icemare thrusts his hands over his shoulders; the objects dart off in different directions, disappearing into the darkness.

“Hopefully you guys will memorize all those objects because it will save you lots of time and humiliation.” He folds his hands in front of him. “But most likely that won't happen and--” He gives an one-shoulder shrug. “--hm, I'll have the upper advantage. I mean, I've always had the upper advantage… And now you'll feel that advantage...GREATLY.”

And with a burst of evil laughter, not only the circles disappear, but also the floor beneath their feet do as well, casting all six Gulls down into a never ending fall in thick darkness through delirious patterns of the same yellow-green glow.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH--!”

Brandon bolts straight up from his bed. His breathing has become laborious; his face is covered with sweat; his hair is matted and wet as well; his eyes are as wide as pucks.

He flicks his eyes all over the sight of his dusky room, making sure if what he just experienced was really just a dream.

“It was just a dream,” he mumbles shaikly, “it was just a dream, it was just a dream…” His eyes drift up to what is hanging right above him: an authentic Native American dreamcatcher.

He knits his eyebrows together with worry. “Why did I have a nightmare? That's suppose to keep me from having nightmares…” He lowers his eyes as he makes one more scan around his darken surroundings.

Everything seems fine.

With a long sigh, Brandon lowers himself back into a lying position on his mattress. He pulls his blanket up to his chin, attempting to get cozy and drift off to sleep. Yet as each minute passed by, his hectic mind stays the same, not able to shake off the nightmare.

Ten minutes have passed…

Then fifteen minutes...

Twenty minutes…

Twenty five minutes…

Thirty minutes…

Forty-five minutes…

Then an hour.

“That’s it.” Brandon tosses his blanket to aside and crawls to the entrance of his upper room. He climbs down the ladder, hops down, and pads out of the bedroom and down the dark hallway. He goes through the foyer, then makes the bend over to the moonlit living room.

There in the shadows, he spots Joseph standing alone with his back facing him. He is staring ahead at where the television is situated.

“You're awake too,” Brandon states as he warily steps up to him.

“It seemed so real,” Joseph mutters huskily.

Brandon halts next to him; he peers up at his face, spotting a hint of fear across his face. “What did?”

A beat passes by them before Joseph replies, “That nightmare.”

Brandon’s eyes widen. “You had a nightmare too?”

“Yeah.” Joseph peers at him with his arms crossed. “Some dude named Icemare told us many objects were cursed and if we touched the cursed objects, we'd be cursed.”

“Oh my goodness,” he breathes out. “Th-that's exactly like my dream!” He extends his arms out from his sides. “And-and there were green circles…”

“...and we couldn't escape from them…”

“And Bryan was himself,” they finish off in unison.

They quickly turn to gaze at each other in different degrees of shock.

“We dreamed of the same thing…,” Joseph concludes.

Brandon eyes him with uncertainty. “...or did we?”


The End.

Notes

E.2 "Here Comes Trouble...!"
Part 7/7
Episode 2/20