Collettore Di sogno
an excerpt

Collettore Di sogno
(Italian for Dream Catcher)
Prologue

All he saw was mist, shadows of people meant to be, and ones that were lost forever in an oblivion he wished never to see.

It was simple, really, in the beginning. All he had to do was clear her mind, retrieve the actions of her past, then leave. He shook his head silently, cursing that he was too much of a fool then, just to not realize that the world never worked that way.

With his fingertips pressed against her forehead, he tried to trudge on through the fog. He saw the divine attributes of what her life had been at a time. But now, all he found was the dark, deep depression clouding her vision.

He used to want power, he smiled grimly at the thought. At a time, he thought emotions held nothing over a person. But, alas, in the ill-fated end, it was all that help a person together. Just until the brink.

And once stripped of those sacred emotions, you broke, he realized. You broke as you fell over the cliff, only taking the numb feeling of loss within your mind. Connon blinked for a moment, trying to delve himself into her.
But Allison was too far passed the brink. Too far from help.

Connon took a deep breath, his fingers seeking to soothe the poor girl. Then, as the end neared, Connon dove, swimming against the heavy onslaught of darkness that ruled her mind.

Instead of nothing having its wondrous grip on her, it was fear.

And still Connon dove into the darkness.