The Séance, Klaus Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy)

"RUN! They're coming!"

Pain. Your whole head tries to hide in your neck, withdrawing from being awake. Tattooed palms press into your eyes trying to banish the harsh light of day all around you. Even curling into the fetal position in the dirt does little to comfort you. Wait, dirt?

"Oh god, why does the sun have to shine so? Let me alone," you groan and flinch at the brightness around you. Slowly unfurling yourself and coming to terms with being awake and distressingly sober you squint at your surroundings.

Lush fronds of tropical plants are everywhere. Trees you've never seen before except maybe on those beer adverts on the beach somewhere. "Well, beats waking up in a tomb I suppose. Ben, what's going on man? Did a travel agent abduct me or something?"

A warm relaxing breeze blows as icy panic rises inside you. "Ben? Where are ya bud? Not the best time to mess with your bestie."

Your eyes dart around the small clearing. Only leaves, trees, and horrible clean air everywhere.

He's not here. He's always here! Oh painful reality why must you mock me so?! What happened? The last thing you remember is the paper proclaiming Nobel Prize recipient Reginald Hargreeves had died wrapped around some of the best weed you could find. Newspaper tasted horrible going down, but the pills you took drowned that right out.

"God, why am I so dreadfully sober? Is this Heaven, Hell would have more Priests I'd think."

Your hands go to your pant pockets seeking wonderful pill-shaped escape only to find you have none. A lovely poodle skirt in pink and black encases your legs. A torn fishnet body stocking, black combat boots, army surplus looking vest, and one opera glove complete whatever look you ended up with during your most recent bender.

"Priests no, Hunters yes! Get up you fool!"

Tilting your head back you see up a monkey man's nose, or what's left of it anyway. He looks like a hundred rats tried to use him as a hotel. His torn uniform was once regal indeed, boots a brilliant shine. "I didn't know Pogo had a cousin in the military."

"I have never known a Pogo, but I know a dead man when I see him. Now, you must GO!" The monkey officerman points into the bushes. "A half mile that way is an old camp. Come!" He reaches down and grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet.

You wobble to your feet and stare at the walking dead monkeyman, "How, how did you, what are...., you pulled my hand and I felt it! Wasn't all clammy or anything either. Suprising really, whoa!" Monkeyman roughly spins you around and shoves you in the direction of the camp he mentioned. "Rude much? Do all Spirit Officer Monkeys go around shoving **** addicts all willynilly?

_"Are you always so vocal dullard? You could be heard by any number of beasts! Now HUSH!" _The Chimp General forcibly yanks you along to the safety he swears is nearby. Your feet clumsily traipse over the rough ground as the world speeds past. After running down a slope clumsily Private Bananas shoves you roughly into a rocky wall, banging your head in the process.

"Follow the wall to your left between the tree and the stone wall. There's an enclosure you will find refuge in." He points along the wall, guiding your stunned gaze to a small gap between a rather large trunk of a tree and the sharp stony wall.

Still a little dazed from your head hitting rock you numbly follow Major Flingpoo's direction. Its a rather tight fit, but you manage to contort yourself through the gap and into a surprisingly large chamber. You collapse and spread out on the hard floor of the cave.

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(will add more later, need to look up some resource material! :D)