BOUND

Three strangers must band together to survive the trappings of an intelligent mastermind

He sits in the shadows, staring. Nine screens glow before hm. He waits. His patience is eternal now as it was in the beginning. Now everything is in its place. He has missed nothing. Years and years and years of planning. Plans on top of plans. Finally now, that special day has at last come.

Written by :

Scott Matthew &

William MacDonald II

Part 1

CHAPTER 1

RAW MEAT

*

It was the pain  which woke Will. Awaking from one nightmare, entering another. Beads of sweat rolled across his back. He was hot and having difficulty controlling his breathing. He felt as though he were hovering in a gentle circular motion, which only exasperated the increasing pain in his legs. He arched his back tightly, trying to fight against the confinement, but there was no use. He could feel the moisture draining from his body. His hair was wet and there was a dank, nauseating stench of decay of which Will felt encased completely inside. He gagged and was frequently forced to spit. He screamed out. His cries reverberated back to him, rippling through his soaked pores sending his body into uncontrolled spasm. He yelled again and his time forced his groggy eye lids up with some great effort, finding himself facing a dirty, white, red stained tile floor from a vertical height of five feet. He was shirtless and barefoot with jeans and his hands were tightly bound behind him.

Forcing his neck upward, Will was able to look up and see the real trouble he was really in. Around his waist was securely fastened a thick, beige, leather band. Four taughtly braided ropes forced, forcing his balance, disappeared at angles into the inky blackness above. There were blood stains on his jeans at the knees. Several beads of blood mixed with sweat were creeping up his legs.

The strain on his neck was too much and Will rocked back in a defiant groan. He closed his eyes tightly, struggling to control his breathing and ignore the spinning in his head.

He was facing a long, sheet tiled walkway with several square support columns on either side. Dangling from sturdy rods were a variety of strong, single and multi-pronged butchers hooks. It hadn’t been just the wringing in his ears.

Will coughed. Keeping calm was buying him time, but precious little. He was hot and cold and felt as though he were drowning in in his own sweat. His wrists were tightly bound and his hands were taped tight. After a time, he relented to the pain and stress of struggle. His pain was slowly building into anger. “Help!”

“Help your f*****g self!”

The angry male voice banged through his core. Will stiffened. It was a pang of hope is a stew of wanton fear. He whipped his head back and forth, desperate to see the source, but could see only smoking, bending shadows in an inky blue haze. “Please!” He gasped for a fuller breath. “Please help me!”

“You’re moving around too much! If you start to hyperventilate you could lose consciousness in minuets. As much as I’d love to help you, my position is just about as bad as yours. I’m not wounded. I can see you are. Any idea-how that happened, or how long you’ve been here?”

“I’m not answering any of your damn questions! You tell me what the f**k is going on!”

Laughing echoed across the dingy, dirty, blood stained room. Will grimaced. “What is so " goddamn funny!”

Silence. Only the raging, hammering of his heart in his head. Sweat was in his eyes now and they were stinging badly. He whipped his head all around, mostly in vein.

“We are upside-f*****g down! It is all-the-world funny you think I can help you!”

“You-you’re trapped like me?”

“Yes.”

“What in the f**k is going on! How did we get here?”

“How the f**k should know. I came out of my coma five minuets ago, only I haven’t been wasting all of my energy acting like a caged animal.”

“Hey f**k you man my legs are bleeding and I can’t remember s**t!”

“Do you remember your name? Huh! Start there.”

“Yeah I know my damn name. It’s Will. I’m having a lot of trouble breathing and I can hardly-breath.”

“It’s your equilibrium. God only knows how long we’ve been like this. You have to control your breathing. Take deep regular breaths. Clear your mind. Think about, climbing a mountain.”

Will eyes had been closed for a while. It was little comfort from the cricking throes of his legs. His body was stiff and his head was full of marbles. What is your name?”

“Its Alan. My name is Alan.

“I think-we are going to die here Alan. I can think of better ways, but none more novel.”

“Well-we might die here, that is a possibility, but not like this! Not hanging upside-down like the mornings raw meat!”

“Yeah? What’s your plan?”

“I’m working on it. The rope around my wrists, I am nearly free.”

Soon enough, Alan had slipped his bond. Now the tape was nothing. He flung it away and craned his arms down and let them hang. It was an amazing sensation. Alan took a deep breath and tried to gather himself. He knew this was it. He had enough strength for one try. His joints were very stiff and his bones ached. He bent his arms back, gripped two of the ropes tightly and began the arduous process of pulling himself up.

Will could hear the man struggling. It was making him even more nervous. He was dizzy and wanted to be sick. “Whatever you are doing, you better make it quick. I’m about ready to throw-up.”

“That is-the last thing-you want to do. If you vomit in that position you’ll choke to death on your own s**t! It’s alright-I’m almost there!”

Upright, Alans senses began to improve. He took several deep breaths. He was shirtless and barefoot and groggy and sore. His light beige kakis were dirty and tattered. Perhaps an altercation he could not remember. He looked to his left, over a long, rectangular structure with a grated top a couple inches lower than the sorting pools edge. The grating was bent at odd angles, blood stained and rusted. There were bones scattered throughout it. Alan could tell they were not human. He could see his fellow captive clearly now through the chalky, pale blue fog. Dark brown hair, average build. Shirtless and barefoot as well and bleeding from around the knees. “I’m right-side-up now, but these ropes are securely fastened to our harnesses. There’s some kind of lever or switch on the back of my belt, but these things are really f*****g tight. I can’t get a good look at it like this. If I flip back around we probably will die right here.” Alan took an unsure look upward into inky oblivion. At lest now he could wipe the sweat from his face, even that was something. “I’m going to have to climb up and see if there is another way.”

“Just hurry f*****g up man, I’m dying here.”

The rope bands were braided, making it easier for Alan to maintain his grip whilst shifting his weight side to side. It was an arduous task, however the pendulum action was hastening his assent into the darkness.

Will hung in motionless silence. His thoughts wondered randomly. A myriad of images danced afore his minds eye. He saw his ex-wife. Even she was appealing to him now. Then he was with friends and there was laughing. Then suddenly there were hands around his neck and he was struggling for breath. Hot tight leather squeezing tighter and tighter. He tried to fight, but it was already too late. Now everything was dark.

Alan let go. Cold brittle tile cracked under his feet. The rope hooks clanked down around him, a decrepit Doctor O. He was finally free and able to remove his harness, which snapped open and fell fast to his feet. Even that hurt. “Damn.” After taking several moments to gather himself, Alan made his way over to the wounded man. He’d heard nothing from him. He touched the mans head. It was sopping wet. He flicked his right ear hard the and the man jolted awake with a groan. “F**k!”

“Oh good, you’re not dead.”

Wills throat was barren as a desert. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He loosened it with a pop. He could barely bring his head up to look at the man, his eyes were too blurry to see much of anything. He could smell the man standing next to him and feel his hot breath on his face. “You-you got out of it. Get-me-get me out of this s**t!”

Alan was tired. He took a deep breath, Still only partially believing he’d actually made it this far. He gripped the mans front two support ropes. Partially for support. He walked around the man to get a better look at his band. The mechanism was identical. He looked desperately up into the perpetual void. There was light from somewhere, far away it seemed. It came down in an inky haze .

“What the f**k are you waiting for?”

“There’s a release latch here on your harness, but it needs two hands. Let me get this f*****g tape and s**t off you.” It took some doing. Alans hands were wet and stiff. There, now I know that’s better.”

“Oh my god that is heaven! My f*****g legs hurt so bad.”

“Listen these harnesses are spring loaded. You’re going to fall right out of it when I do this. Do you think you can hold yourself up while I do this?”

“F**k. Sure.”

“Take a deep breath and hold it.” 1-2-3.” Alan squeezed the ends of the device together. There was a sharp click Wills harness widened instantly and he was really not ready. His hands slipped down and his lower body pitched forward. He writhed in agony as Alan struggled to pull him back before he let go and a moment longer he did. Alan had him, but he’d flipped completely over and was completely unconscious once Alan had gotten him turned around and slid out of the belt. He rested the man on his back, then he sat down and rested his head between his legs.

The blood stains on the mans legs were continuing to grow. Something would have to be done if he were not just to lye here and bleed to death.

“Listen man there’s something about myself I didn’t tell you. I’m a second year nurse. You’re no good to me if you die here and I don’t know of there’s even anything I can do for you unless I have a good look, so try not to take this personally.”

It was wrong and disturbing what had been done to the man. Alan had neither seen nor read about anything like this. Both of the mans femur bones had been splintered at the knee and not set and this was not the result of some struggle.

“What the f**k is going on here.” Alan redressed the man without disturbing him. He stood and stared blankly around in the inky haze. He set off down the main walkway, between rows of crumbling columns and long dried blood pools. The air was stale and his joints stiffened in cold shutters from the cracking, uneven floor. “Hello! Where the f**k are you, huh? Is this what you do!”

He made it to the other end of the room and looked back. He could not see the man. This was a large butchery, but he had never heard of this place, but who was he kidding. He could be anywhere! His heart was pounding as though he’s just run a marathon. Every swallow of saliva stuck throat. His breathing was very dry. Turing his attention back to the wall he saw that one solid length of some material, not tiled like the rest of the room and there were two round holes manufactured into it spaced ten feet or so apart. Alan went to one of them and examined it carefully. There were vertical creases at the mid point of the holes. He put his ear to the wall. It was the sound of the sea, an echo of an echo. He pounded on the door. “B*****d! You’re afraid to open the f*****g door because you know I want to break your face!”

He spun around in frustration and leaned heavily against the wall. That is when he saw it. The third column off to the right seemed to have something hanging off of it, bulky looking and darker in color. Alan went quickly over and found it to be an old army sack suspended by a thick nail. The bag was pulled tight and he resisted the urge to stick an arm in. “Remember how you woke up.” The head of the nail would not pass the nots in the rope, but he was able to work the nail out, but the bag had some weight to it and he had to lift it to his knee. “This is all about wasting my time.” The nail finally gave. He rested the bag on the floor, removed the nail and spread open the bag.

The cloth sack contained a variety of items. Just the bare essentials. Everything a person needed to survive the trappings of a crazed, lunatic, mad man. Three large bottles of water, one of which he attacked and nearly completely downed in that instant. The lukewarm liquid was sweet daggers of pain down his ruff exasperated throat. He coughed and convulsed. It was the best water he’d ever tasted. He forced himself to pull the bottle away and sat against the column, just in the enjoyment of that. Next he produced several rolls of bandages, adhesive tape and a bind of wooden sticks. Next came a medium size first aid kit. He popped it open and was moderately impressed. It wasn’t empty, or a bomb, or a body part, or a cell phone. He set everything between his legs. At the bottom of the sack Alan retrieved two cylindrical, bronze colored bolts with handles. Each had similar marks and indentations. He snapped up, slightly energized by the water and his anger was steadily increasing. He clanked the bolts together as he walked back to the door. “So this is what the f**k we do huh?” Play games! Open doors, walk through walls! Bullshit! You know, you really fucked up this mans legs. Maybe you don’t give a s**t about that, but we’re going to come back over here, open this door and kick your chicken s**t a*s!”

Having regained continuousness, Will had managed to scoot himself over to one of the pools. He rested himself against it. The tile felt good against his hot back. His system was drained, however he was continuing to regulate. He was seeing better and his thinking bad begun to clear, but he was still groggy and there were painful gaps in his memory.

His legs were fast become a major problem. They hurt even to touch. The pain drilled through him. He was weak, hot and going nowhere in this condition. It winced and growled loudly. It was the most alone he’d ever felt. “Alan! You b*****d, where did you go!”

“I’m right here man, don’t worry and stop yelling, I’m pretty sure we’re being watched.” Alan sat next to the man and set the sack to his free side. He pulled a full bottle out and handed it to Will. “ Here, suck on this, but take it easy it’s all there f*****g is.”

“Oh Jesus Christ!” Will swallowed hard, gasping for breath. He squeezed every last drop into his mouth, squeezed the plastic into a ball and threw it into the dark. “What are you talking about?”

“Survival.”

“You think we are going to survive this s**t? I can’t even f*****g walk man! I think I left my survival instinct at home.”

“Listen man, I’m a second year nurse. I told you after I got you down, but you went to sleep on me. I checked out your legs and it’s pretty fucked up, but it would seem that our captor did intend for us to walk out of here after all, or at lest out of this blood bath.”

Will summoned a laugh. Even gallows humor was appealing to him now. “You’re a f*****g nurse. Well that’s just perfect then isn’t it? Well doc seeing how the prognosis is a bunch of f**k, I don’t see how we are going to be walking out of anywhere. Looks like you’ll have to carry me.” He laughed again through a sputtering, spitting cough he’d been fighting.

“Yeah, no such luck.” Alan produced the bandages, tape and sticks, then the kit which he opened. He moved in front of the man. “Listen to me Will, this is very serious. Some f*****g animal has split your bones below the knee, badly. You cannot walk In this condition and you are losing blood.”

“You found all that s**t in that bag? Bullshit. I passed out. That’s what you were waiting for.” Will was breathing more heavily again. “I don’t trust you.”

“Listen to yourself, and I don’t care weather you trust me or not. I am stuck in this f*****g room with you because some f**k has decided to play this stupid game! Now there is a door at the other end of this damn room with two holes in it.” Alan grabbed the bolts and clanked them together in front of Will, close enough to make his point, then he dropped them back in. The holes are too far apart. I’ll bet you $100 that these keys need to be turned at the same.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Yeah that part. Here’s the part that isn’t. The only way we are getting out of here is if I properly set and wrap your legs. I know how to do it, but even then walking will be difficult and painful. You will need to take it slow and bend your knees as little as you can. Do you want to die here surrounded by all of this-this s**t? Huh! I don’t, but I need your help. Will you let me help you?”

Will relented. He pushed hard against the tile. “I’m pretty well adjusted. How bad is this going to be?”

“Just the worst pain you have ever experienced in your life, twice. But, after a while, it won’t feel as bad. You just have to take it slow. Now, I have to cut your jeans some. This is easier than you having to take your pants off if I have to take another look.”

“Super.”

From the kit, Alan acquired a scissors and proceeded to slit the wounded mans jeans.

Will breathed hard through clenched teeth. “Know what the f**k you are doing.”

“Just relax. Be still.”

“Ahhhhhh!”

“S**t man, sorry. But that was good, you too that like a champ. I’m almost finished with this one. I think you can take the rest.”

“Come on! Come with it!”

There was a second grinding, cracking, crunch. Wills eyes rolled back as the numbing jolt smashed across his nerves, but then it was gone. He opened his eyes again, seeing Alan continuing to expertly wrap his wounds in some tight weave. He would kill for more water. Walk a thousand miles, or crawl.

“There.” Alan fell back on his hands. “That’s the best I can do. He rested for a moment, another two or three would make little difference. He just wanted to sleep and go away. He stood and returned the items to the sack, closed it and slung it over his left shoulder. He held out his hand for Will.

“Are you sure we’re ready for this?”

“Help me.”

Slowly, one step at a time, they made it to the door. Alan helped Will over to the right side hole. He set the bag between them, fished the keys and gave one to him. Alan went over to the other hole. They stuck them in the slots and turned them together.

A dull thud trembled the frigid, fragile beneath their bare feet, then a loud clanking, wrenching sound reverberated from the wall and the creased portion began to rise slowly. It squeaked to a halt near the top. On the other side was a short, wide fairly well lit hallway with gray walls and a sharp bend to the left. The air was dank and stiff and hotter.

Alan grinned wryly as he stepped through. “See, I told you.”

“Yeah. Out of this f*****g frying pan!”

LADY IN WAITING

**

The door slammed forever closed strait across Wills back, its force pushing him forward. He spun around and pounded at, cursing the invisible force that had so expertly trapped them here. “F**k!” He looked back at Alan who’s eyes were just as wide. Will stepped cautiously forward. “Look. See that?”

Alan turned, following the mans outstretched finger to right end corner of the hall. He went on to investigate, passing another longer corridor on his left. “It’s a camera. Wireless. Looks brand new.”

Will shimmied over to the intersection, just behind the man. “Well, we’re pretty much fucked.” He went closer to the cam. He branded a fist and shook it wildly. “I hope there is some goddamned point to all of this!” He gasped on the last words and went to the wall for a break.

“You get your breath. I’m going to continue on. Hurry up!”

Will gave a weak wave. “Just go.” He pealed another layer of sweat from his face with an arm. “F**k.”

The adjoining hall was aprox. 50 feet in length and lit by a hazy glow from somewhere high above, at the end of which to Alans right was a wide lift door with metal handles. Coming out from the bottom was a tightly packed trail of some greyish-black powder, at the end of which sat a shiny silver zippo lighter. It was opened.

Alan took a knee. He poked the lighter. He took a bit of the substance between his thumb and middle finger and gave it a wif. Bitter and old.

“What the f**k is it?” Will was making his way down the hall, using the wall for support. He’d nearly made it to the door. He was sweating badly and tiring.

Alan looked up. “Something that burns.”

“Well, fire it up!”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should try and get this door open first.”

“Are you sure this door isn’t supposed to blow up?”

Alan sighed loudly. “Fairly certain. Look at the handles. Brand new, and look at these walls how smooth they are. It’s too perfect.” He set the bag aside and the men took their positions. The handles were thin and flat. They dug into their palms. It was a stupid heavy door which neither of them could have managed alone. It creaked and groaned the whole way. At eye level it caught on some mechanism and retracted out of sight. The modest light in the hall supplied no illumination into the adjoining, vacant void.

Will fell back against the wall. “Maye this a*****e is some crazy endurance trainer. All of this lifting and walking and flipping around.” He drew haphazard circles in the air.

Alan pressed his fists into the sides of his back and rolled his head side to side. He was sore and disgusted. Everything hurt. It hurt to think. “Yeah maybe. Maybe he’s "

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Alans blood turned to ice. He was frozen. Unable to move, even blink, even to release breath into the darkness ahead. The piercing scream reverberated within him, a dozen chains clanging against his head. He managed to turn his head at Will who was just as shocked and pale.

“Please! I can see you! Why are you doing this! Ahhhhh!”

Alan was aghast. His mouth opened slowly, but no words formed. Will kept on eye on the nurse as he leaned into the dark. “Who the f**k are you!”

Alan gritted his teeth ad exhaled loudly. “Jesus man there isn’t one drop of couth in you is there.”

“Brenda! My name is goddamn Brenda!”

The wounded man labored closer to Alan, his eyes sunken and narrowing. “What the f**k did you just say?”

“Man come on.”

Will stepped to within inches of the man. “No, I want you to say that s**t again. Couth! Is that what this is about now huh!?

“Man-

“You want to f**k Brenda!” Will pointed wildly at the dark. “Who in the f**k do you think that b***h is!”

Their noses were nearly touching.

“Get the f**k over there.”

“What if I don’t?”

I will kick you in the knees and drag your crippled, bleeding a*s over to the wall and slam you against it!

The woman wailed franticly again. “Please! God it hurts! I can’t move!”

Will relented, he was in neither the position nor physical condition for a fight. His blood was hot and a rage was swelling, but he held back. He stepped back, looking at the disappearing trail. “I suppose we’ll know pretty quick if we set her on fire huh.”

Keeping his eyes narrowly fixed on the man, Alan knelt and took the lighter. “Don’t worry, I’ll use the rest of the water to put her out.” He laughed. It felt good.

“The hell you will!”

She screamed again.

“Shut up!” Will yelled back.

“F**k both of you! Why are you doing this!”

“Well here goes nothing.” Alan snapped the wheel sparking a low pale flame. He touched it to the end of the trail which caught immediately in a hot white flash. The line of fire rushed the darkness. Unfurling shades of eerie green and blue, the torch cut in two opposing directions then cut again and again. The fire was alive, climbing the walls and burning brighter and hotter and producing a stiff pungent odor.

“Please! No! It’s so hot!”

Alan stood slowly, speechless, lost in stunned bewilderment. A tinge of terror creped along his spine. This was worse than any nightmare. This was somones sick twisted game. “You’ve got to be fickin’ kidding.”

They could see the woman clearly now. She was quite beautiful, even in her present condition. She had long, dark red hair, pale green eyes and was wearing a mid-length red dress. She was strapped tightly into a black leather chest harness which was suspended between two crescent shaped steel beams with several thin rods. Her arms and legs were splayed in clearly uncomfortable position. The support rods suspended her above a two tiered platform with a deep grove running length wise. The fire had circled and crossed over it.

Alan was in frozen panic. He needed to do something, but exactly what? “The whole f*****g room Is burning!”

“What the f**k are we supposed to do?”

“S**t.”

The men entered slowly, unwillingly. What else could they do? They approached the raiser, but the fire kept them back, as well as the smoke which was causing them all to cough and squint, but they were able to get a better look at the specific nature of her entrapment. It was clearly intended she remain as motionless as possible. Evenly spaced, thin, shiny, silver rods penetrated the sided of her body from head to toe. These rode were held taught by dark wires which connected also to the crescents.

“Please! Please, you’ve gotta’ f*****g help me!”

Will threw up his hands. Yeah, just as soon as we figure out how to do that. Trust me, my friend here really wants to save you!”

“F**k off. Will you please just stop talking and let me think for two damn seconds.”

Now the room was just hot and getting hotter. It was worse for Brenda. The flames across the top of the platform were fraying the bottom edge of her dress and it was beginning to smoke. She was sweating profusely and her breathing had become increasingly erratic. She could see the men below staring at her, but between the whipping of the flames, smoke and thumping of her heart in her head she could not hear what they were saying. She saw them separate and disappear from her limited, unmovable view. “Nooooo! You b******s!”

It was a large room with solid concrete walls. On the far wall, behind the girl was a door with a huge locking mechanism across its center lengthwise. Even the mens combined efforts could not budge it.

Will let go of the handle and wiped his forehead. “ Well at lest we know there is some way out of this hot box.”

Alan was looking back at the girl and at the circular look of tightly braided steel which hung dead center of her lengthwise. She hovered inside of it like a crucified fallen angel. The loop was held in place by a additional steel wires which disappeared into smoky blackness. “Something is seriously wrong here. That loop. What the hell do you suppose it’s for.”

“No clue. Why don’t you climb up there and pull on it. See what happens.”

“Be friggin’ serious.”

“You want me to get serious! Huh! We’re burning enough calories just f*****g standing here to feed the three of us and of the fire doesn’t kill us this smoke will. We’ve looked around and there’s nothing! I mean, what the f**k is she doing here? Who could even do something like this to a person? I bet she knows something. I’m going to stay right here and drink this little bit of water. You do what the f**k you want. My legs are killing me.”

Alans wrap was still holding, however he could see blood. He would have to redress the mans wounds sooner than later, but he kept this to himself. He was confident his work would hold, provided Will did not overly exert himself. He could see the gnawing agony in his face and the primal rage which was probably the only thing keeping him going at this point.

Alan was afraid. Afraid of what was behind that next door. Afraid they still had a long way to go. Maybe Brenda was the key, or maybe another test, or just a distraction. In any event he wanted answers and unfortunately Will was right. He would have to go up there to any. He drew a long breath and coughed part of it out. “Alright. Look. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Will gave a casual nod. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Alan made his way back around the raised, square platform, jumping over the line of fire time as apposed to having to half carry Will. The ledge separating the smaller platform from the larger was thin, but with some effort he was able to pull himself up and get hold of the upper edge and find support enough for his feet. He had enough strength for one good pull. He shot up and landed firmly on the top platform on his knees. “Damn!” He steadied himself and stood slowly. The streaks of fire were hot against his bare skin and the platform was nearly intolerable warm. He startled Brenda and she gave a shriek which jolted Alan and he nearly toppled over. “Jesus woman, you need to try to relax. I know this is s****y, but we didn’t do this to you I promise. Okay? He ran his hand along the curve of the left beam and along the tense wires leading to the rods set into Brendas soft, delicate body. She was beautiful, even like this. Alan vowed he’d not let her die here. Somehow, he would get her out of this. He would do whatever it took.

They were making eye contact now. Neither could say a word. Flames crackled around them, playing maddening shadows across their wet faces. A diabolical, impossible mad house.

Brenda couldn’t stand it any longer. She pleaded for his help. He could be the enemy for all she knew, but it was all she could do.

Alan put up a hand, trying to reassure her. It wasn’t much good. She was very shaken and tightly secured in a most insanely delicate rig. She was not going anywhere. It would be impossible for him to remove the rods from her body and even if he somehow could, the more difficult ones, particularly the ones on her head, he could not reach. Her harness was smooth and firm. He wanted to maneuver behind her to get a better look at the locking mechanism he’d seen from below. He crouched and slid between her legs. He stood again behind her and turned. Looking up he could see that the harness would probably be easy enough to release her, but again he could barely reach the lowest fasten. As he pondered his next move he noticed that the fire in the room had begun to subside. The darkness was beginning to creep back.

Brenda cried out. “Please! Where did you go! Who are you?”

“It’s alright. I’m behind you. You’re strapped in here pretty tight. I can’t reach the belts. My name is Alan. I’m sorry. I know you are in pain and want answers. Trust me, we all do. His name is Will. We woke up here just as fucked as you, well, maybe not quite line this. It doesn’t matter. What’s important is we found you, right?”

“I can’t f*****g move! It hurts really bad! What is f*****g going on?”

“I wish I knew Brenda. I really do. Look, this fire is burning its self out. If I can’t see, I can’t do anything. Just try and relax. I’m taking a closer look at this-this contraption you’re in.”

“But how did I get here? God my head hurts. Why can’t I move my head?”

Alan was hesitant to explain the dire extent of her predicament. Mostly it was bad news. The structure was solid and the wires were taught. As long as she was up in the air there was no way he could get her and there was no chance of getting Will up here and especially in the time left before they were again incased in blackness. He resolved to climb down. It was now or never. As careful as he was trying to be he feet were wet and he slipped. The only thing that may have saved him would have been to grab one of the wires, but doing so would have caused Brenda serious injury and perhaps kill her, so he resisted. He spun twice quickly on his left heel and pitched forward over the edge. In one last desperate act Alan stretched out his hands. He caught the loop with both, but his momentum made it impossible to maintain balance and his hands were slick with perspiration. They slid down the loops ridged, prickly curve. His skin was no match for the steel.’Fuuuuuk! Ahhhhhh!”

“No!” Brenda screamed in reaction to his struggle.

The loop gave almost nothing under his weight. It cut through his hands like a knife through butter and he drank his own blood. It was in his eyes and across his face. He struggled to hold on, but it was impossible. At the lower point he let go and vanished into the smoke and fading flames. His heels smacked the floor and he pitched immediately backward, streaking along his back. His head clanked the concrete. “Ahhhh. He spit blood. “F**k!” The cold of the floor coursed through his veins. He managed to get to his knees. His palms were sliced in jagged patterns and were bleeding quite badly. He winced and looked away. The pain and horror were too much. He cried out.

Will had slumped down against the door. He’d almost passed out, but Alans agonizing cries jolted him back to life. He saw the man several feet in front of him now on his knees. Blood was everywhere. He glanced up. “Holy s**t!” He shimmied up the door and went to Alan who was crying and trying to wipe the blood from his eyes. “Jesus Christ man what happened? What can I do?”

“Get the f*****g bag! The kit!”

“F**k!”

Alan pressed his palms together tightly and squeezed them between his thighs. His beige kakis were now nearly completely stained. Will returned momentarily and quickly removed the bandages, tape and aid kit which did contain a small bottle of alcohol. He’d used some on Wills legs. The rest would have to be used now. He gritted his teeth.

“What the f**k do I do man?”

“Open the kit. Open that bottle.” He opened his palms before Will. “Do it fast! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Sorry man.”

“F**k! God! Just use the wrap. Make it tight!”

As Will finished the operation the floor began to tremble beneath them. A dreadful, wicked, groaning howl echoed from the walls. It was a chilling sound which vibrated through their cores. “Great! Now the whole f*****g room is going to explode.

Now the men had to help each other stand. It was the first time the really trusted each other.

A rectangular portion of the floor to Brendas left and right slid away and stiff, curved wooden chairs rose up with wooden handles at their sided. They clanked quickly into place. On the wall behind her, higher up above the door, two rectangle sections lowered to revel metal poles set inside lit partitions. Between them, another panel dropped to reveal a large digital timer with thick crimson digits. It was set for 10 minuets.

“You b******s! You m***********s!”

Alan walked over to the right side chair. The wood was smooth and dark. The chairs faced the timer. “What the hell.”

Will brushed another line of sweat form his brow. “If this f****r thinks I’m going to sit in one of these things I’m calling him out on his bullshit. I’ll stand. I don’t care how much pain I’m in.

Alan looked back. “Shut up. Wait just a minuet. Do you hear that?”

“What are you fuckers doing. Comeon! Hurry up it’s getting dark!

Will grinned wryly. “Yeah I hear that s**t.”

“No. It-it sounds like-bees.” It was the strangest sound Alan had ever heard and it continued to grow from a low hum to an ear piercing, groaning cry. The look of steel began to turn.

Will stepped back, his eyes wide as saucers. “Oh my f*****g god.”

The loop continued to accelerate. Brenda could feel the whipping air on her face as it whirled to life before her eyes which were frozen in panic. “What the f**k! Nooooooooooooo!!”

THE SEVENTH CIRCLE OF HELL

***

The wheel was spinning incredibly fast now, its rotation was strong and steady. Brenda cried between exasperated breaths. She was desperate to move. The men were completely mesmerized by the loops wild, perfect oscillating. It spun yet faster just as they stared. It seemed to take on a crazed life of its own. Suddenly, it began to move. Upward. She cried out again.

Will blinked finally. It felt like an eternity. His face was red and dry and hot. “What in the f**k do we do? Huh! What do we do!”

Alan looked from the woman, to the chair, to Will. “The only thing we can-“

“I said no f*****g way man I am not sitting that chair!”

“Look!”

“I don’t care!”

“Look! It’s getting closer. I don’t think its going to stop. You really want to stand here and watch this thing cut her in half. Really! You can live with that? You do what the f**k you want. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the fire will completely burn its self out and we won’t have to see what a mess you’ve made and then I might just kill you. Save Satan a pitch fork. Alan turned and ran across the room and disappeared behind the platform. He sat and took a long deep breath. He grimaced at the handles, his hands were just in incredible pain. The timer concerned him greatly. The lever to his right was angled closest too him, so he gripped onto that one first. Then he leaned forward and grabbed onto the other. He completed the first motion and on that first click the timer started. He pushed and pulled again and again, it wasn’t even that bad. His eyes were wide and he was feeling completely stir crazy.

The loop was moving.

“Will. Get the f**k in that chair!” Alan pumped on.

“This is f*****g bullshit.” Will literally had no desire to sit in some mad mans wooden electric chair. Alan the Super Nurse. What is the better part of valor? Brenda was in just hysterics. But she forced his hand. He lumbered over to the closer seat an took position. “Okay! Great! You want a little back and forth, get our blood pumping really good so when we find you we can kick your f*****g, goddamn a*s. Who ever you are.”

------- 9:10

Alan was already beginning to feel the burn. “F*****g Pull!” Alan continued to yank the levers back and forth, eyeballing the timer and rapidly spinning wheel of death, which continued to rise despite his desperate toil.

Will was breathing more heavily now. The numbing, shooting pain in legs gripped him in pain and fear, wound him in nots. He gritted his teeth. He pulled. Then harder. He pulled.

At the nine minute mark a dark, solid mass fell down into each of the compartments aside the timer. They both saw this. Suddenly, the levers were a little bit more difficult to operate. They were sweating badly. The panic was welling up inside. Together, they were managing to slowly move the wheel back.

------- 8:00

Will had had enough. He simply could not continue. He let go and slumped back in the stiff chair, ragged and out of breath. The wheel hissed in ear. It shilled his soul. It taunted his mind. It started to rise again. It whirled and snarled, ever increasing its feverish speed. It was rising, faster than before.

Alan began to really panic. “Will!” There was nothing. “Man! F**k. The wheel man!” His teeth grinded between large breaths.

“ F**k.” Will leaned begrudgingly forward. If not for her cries attacking his brain. “Kill myself for some f*****g total stranger.”

“Do it!”

“I’m doing it goddamn it!”

“Do it faster!” As Alan spoke, a second dark mass dropped into the partitions with a deep, resonating clank. The handles lurched and rattled in place momentarily and the men were jolted. Alans hands were a mess of blood and sweat and he slipped and fell back. And back again. His hands were shaking. His arms were tense and sore. Now the levers were even heavier. Yelling at Will was tiring. He pulled and pushed and pulled and slipped, trying to resist the urge to let go and take a nap. But for their effort, the wheel was again brought under control. Despite his effort, the wheel continued its downward decent, past its starting point. Down and terribly down it crept.

Pain is the ultimate equalizer. How much u can endure or will tolerate is, in the end, what defines you. No one really wants to die and we all look for the easiest way out. What will you take in the place of another? That is an important question. You will kill for someone you love. In the moment, would you be willing to die to save a total stranger?

The men were straining to their wits end. Each pull was met with a groan and the push exasperation. Their eyes were mostly closed. Primitive base level instincts had kicked in. They survived on adrenalin alone, but it was not enough to keep the circle of death in check. It continued its downward track.

“Stop this!” Brenda screamed. Strands of hair atop her head had begun to whip up in the vortex being created around her as the wheel came closer. It would not stop.

Alan forced his eyes open. He saw he was losing his battle. Harder! Pull harder! Save the girl! Working with all his might, he was managing to slow the wheels progress. He had to keep focus. He had to keep fighting. It was fast becoming the battle of his existence not to just let go and she would surely die. His hands were raw and were bleeding all over the handles. He was fighting the pain.

--- 7:00

Another black mass crashed into the partitions with a clanging echo. A phantom bell to remind the men that they were on the clock and a life rested in their balance. A balance which was already on the verge of breaking. The handles had really stiffened up, being drug through quicksand,

“F**k this. I’m done!” Will dropped into his chair, pained for breath and too pissed to yell most things he wanted to.

Brenda, who’d been calmer, was disappointed with the pronouncement. She screamed at him. She was petrified, furiously angry. Blood was dripping down her sides. She was trying not to shake. It collected in small pools at the entry points of the cold rods. She could not see the men. She was trying not to shake. The loop was hurtling by now at a furious, blistering pace. It was close. She could feel it, its power. It split the lines of beading sweat across her forehead. Suddenly though, it started to lift away. “Yes! F*****g god!”

Alan puled double hard. The spinner would not obey. “Will! Come on! He grunted loudly. “I can’t do it!”

Will was bet forward. His hands were back on the handles, but he was not pulling. His legs were writhing and bleeding. “F**k both of you! Grraaaaaaaa! He wanted to rip the bars up and tare them in to whoever had placed him here. He made himself look up at the woman. The trails of blood mixing with the red of her dress. He took several more gaping breath. His focus was wavering. “Come f*****g on!” He summoned strength. He started again.

----- 6:00

The whisping blade continued up. Now it was nearly to the fringe of Brenda’s mid-length dress. It was a rather nice piece of clothing. There was not the time for her to think of a time she’d worn it before. It was strange but so was everything. Flakes of crimson fabric started to kick up in the approaching vortex. One or two landed on her face. Then there were more. She was frozen and unblinking, writhed in terror and anger. “ F**k! Comeon!”

Alan tried again. “Will! Listen to me. I need you to focus man. I need you to stay with me! Push man!”

It was close now. It snapped at the insides of her thighs A rabid beast on the verge of its strike. Her dress was splitting. She closed her eyes and sobbed again. It would be slow and painfully slow.

---- 5:30

Another set of markers smacked down into the partitions, just as Will had managed to turn the wheel of death around. His hands were numb and raw. Every muscle in his body tensed to its limit. He spit and cursed. “Come on!” Grrrrrr! You put me in a chair! I am going-to get my hands on you-and never let go!”

Alan was completely disgusted. It was the worst that the handles needed to be operated in unison. One helped the other establish a rhythm. It was the weight. It was becoming more than either of them could bare. Alan could feel it in his shoulders. The bones beginning to grind together. He refused to give up. His motions were slowing. Too much time. Just too much time. His hands had splintered badly through the now blood soaked bandages. All of his effort had wrung his hands of fluid. It covered everything. Each move was a battle. A decision. He saw what the wounded man had done. He’d bought her time, but he was about to lose it again

---- 5:00

Still more dark blocks fell in line. The whole floor gave a lurch. The handles vibrated and ground in place, unmovable for a brief moment. The blade seemed to be spinning faster. Neither man could stop it. They were doing a good job of slowing it down. Keeping it from cutting her in half. Unfortunately it was trending down. Already, a couple longer strands of her hair crept up.

Alan was literally sweating the life out of himself. He was fighting for her. She could see none of this. She was in her own hell and it was closing back in. It whipped at her face. It was loud now, producing a piercing, menacing echo. It was closer. Were they really going to let it cut her? Was he? She could scarcely look up and down.

Somewhere off in the distance, a song began to play. Soft at first but then louder and louder. It was The Carpenters, We’ve only just begun. It took a while to sink in too Brenda’s frayed and frightened mind, while she wrestled with weather or not the blade cut her. She could feel its vibrating in her head. The song was a new distraction. Now it was much more than distracting. “This goddamn song! F*****g really! Jason!” God it felt like an eternity since she’d said his name, or even thought about him. She swallowed again, dryly. Now new fears crept into her head. It was the first song they danced to five years ago. “Jason” God! He could be here too! Locked up somewhere like her. Could it be something worse? Worse than this? Could he even move an inch? Only a handful of people knew about that song. The ceremony had been a small event, then there was the after party later. It had been at their home. Names and faces flashed together. There were no surprises. These were wasted thoughts. She’d known everyone there. No one she knew could be responsible for this. There were no “crazy ex’s.” Anyways, this was too elaborate. Too ingloriously sinister and bad. A truly evil mind was at work here. She could feel it. She could feel that Jason was trying to save her. It hadn’t really occurred to her before. But of course! No, she would be saved. He would come! She could hear struggle below. They could be fighting. They might just as easily not want to save her. The wheel was closer, ever closer than before. It hissed in her face. She closed her eyes hard.

Brenda heard another loud clanking noise behind her. Something was closing in on her from behind as well. Would this madness ever ever ever end? There was more cursing and yelling below. “Damnit! What the f**k is going on!”

“We are trying---to save your"life!” For Alan, the point of no return had come. Logic and reason and clear thinking were rapidly becoming a concern. His mind and body were numb. How was he able to carry on? The weight was unbearable now, it was not fare. All felt lost. He was giving up, losing his strength. Maybe there was a higher power keeping him alive. Maybe when the timer reached zero he would be at long last be allowed to die. He welcomed it, longed for any release. He wanted to strangle her, wanted to shut her up from the yelling and the crying. God! But he knew that mostly it was his fault. “You really want----to know what the f**k---is going on!”

“Yes!”

“We’ll you’re not going to like it.” Alan crumpled backward. His bloodied, raw right hand remained stuck to the closer handle. He just couldn’t do it anymore. He started drifting away. He was someplace. Someplace cool and dry. All was dark around him and he could feel a peaceful breeze.

“Alan!” Will yelled, at his own wits end. He continued to fight through the pain and fatigue. He watched the wheel. It was sinking further into the grove in the platform. “Alan! You have to fight it! Snap the f**k out of it!

“Alan! Alan please!”

He was standing at the edge of a bright white painted pier, overlooking a wide, sparkling lake. The sun was hot in his face and the sky was the darkest blue. This was his summer home. No one knew about this place. He was looking off into the lazy waves.

Something was wrong. His hands were wet. He held them up. They were drenched in blood.

“NoooOOOOO!!!”

Then came footfalls. Someone was running behind him. He could feel the creaking of the deck beneath his bare feet. He whipped around and was immediately enveloped by a darkly cloaked figure. At once, the grim reaper was upon him. They launched into the air and crashed into the shimmering water.

His heart smashed wildly in his chest. His mind was a spinning blur. Alan was wrestling with his demons and losing the battle. All was dark. From somewhere, invisible yet all around came the gears, booing and laughter of a cruel, maddening crowd. They mocked him, yelled at him. They were watching him. They wanted him to die.

“No!!!” Alan refused to give in. He fought the dark man. They twisted and toiled in the darkness. At last he was free!” Somehow, some way, he was able to make those levers move again.

The blade continued its downward course. Blood was draining from Brenda’s face as she was faced with the most horrible reality. The vortex was all around her, its deafening roar was all she could hear. It was no longer a question of weather or not she would be cut. Whatever the men were doing or trying to do it simply wasn’t working. Maybe they had just given up. Maybe, whatever the struggle, it was just too much weight to bare. “Please no! God no!”

“God---doesn’t----give one f**k!” Alan yelled out. His gut wrenched with each motion. One way, then back the other. He pulled and pushed to the brink of tears. She would be cut. He glared at the clock. Too much time. Just too much damn time.

----- 3:00

Another set of blocks smacked down into place, no only a sliver of the lit partition. No telling what weight had built up. Whatever it was, it was too much. An impossible amount. Wills arms were completely shot. He’d stopped looking up. Fresh screams from the woman told him all he needed to know. This is now it was going to end. Her cries had become more persistent. It was close now. When it started, it would be bad. The numbers on the clock were meaningless. Ten eternities had past. He was convinced this was his hell.

Alan yelled out again and again, not words. There were no words for how he felt right now. All the crazy thoughts crashing through his whipped mind. His head was pounding and he was having many difficulties. A massive rage was swelling within him. There was a fury in his strained, bloodshot eyes. He could almost rip the handles right out of place, then he would have the weapons he needed to kill the responsible party for this madness. He was trying, desperately now, to keep the wheel at bay. He was making a difference, but it just wasn’t enough. The blade was inches from her now. It was pulling her hair out and she screamed again. “What was it with this goddamn song!”

“Noooooo!”

------ 2:00

The blade was right at her head now. It was a stalemate. Alan recognized it. Here, in the final moments before her doom, he knew he’d let her down. He was angry with himself for his weakness. He was supposed to saver her. He was good enough to do it! He was beyond his limits. In a place in his mind he’d never explore before. A place you go, before you die.

The blade snapped at her scalp, spinning more strands of Brenda’s hair into it. It was touching her now, the soft tickle. Its twisted, prickling twingle scored a sharp chill through her body and she was sweating profusely now. The song. The blasted song was driving her screaming mad! She almost longed to be cut, the sooner to not her it. She trembled limb from limb as the beast drew its first blood She tasted to drops, warm and frightening. She spit and tried again, impossibly, to move.

----- 1:30

Now the partitions were full. The men was battling valiantly, but the circle would not hold and it refused to rise again. It continued to penetrate. The blood began to flow more freely. Her skin wisped away and blood ran down her back and over her ears and into her eyes. Too much time. Still too much time. They pushed and pulled, each impossible motion more difficult than the last.

Alan knew if let go Brenda would die. He could see the blood on her face and she screamed and screamed again in petrified fear. Her pleas kept his shattered hands gripped to the cursed handles of doom. They hardly wanted to move at all. It was too much weight even for the mechanism to handle, or perhaps he simply had lost it all.

Will could feel nothing. The woman was bleeding and screaming and spitting. He just felt horrible and knew he would throw up after it was over and it was about to be. The blade cut deeper into Brenda’s head. Slowly, methodically, it would kill her. It squealed and writhed, flecking away her life in vaporous, gyrating wisps. The wheel hissed in her face. It taunted her. Cursed her.

Now, it was growing dark. The flames were mostly gone and the song had tapered off. Now it was just the evil glare of the clock. They were nearly down to the last minute. One too many. Brenda continued to scream in the darkness. Her cries echoed all around.

At last, the timer came to zero. The room exploded in milky, hazy green-brown light. A sudden blinding shot, seemingly from all around. It was a warm, foreboding blast. The wheel jerked and jolted. It was spinning quickly in her, but seemed to have stopped its downward approach.

Will collapsed back. He crawled out of the chair and smacked against the cold floor. He shook uncontrollably and could not find breath. He beat the floor with his fists. The strength was not in him, but his anger was way past crazy. He knew he was going to kill someone. Someone was going to die. He propped himself up on his arms, inhaling wildly, wanting and not wanting to look up. She was still crying and yelling, that was good.

Alan’s palms were wrung sponges. All the blood had been squeezed and pushed away. It was almost impossible for him to make fists, agony and effort. His sweat covered back slid down continuously making even a moments stillness impossible. Even the slightest twinge of a finger or turn of the neck sent blinding shards of pain through al his body. He choked on breath and gasped and coughed and spit. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! He looked from his hands to Brenda. Oh god, the blood. It was all in her hair and in jagged crisscrosses across her face. She was alive! She was not happy, but they had done it. Somehow. Someway, they beat the evil wheel. It slowed and continued to slow. Below her, the smaller platform began to rise up and it rested firmly under her feet. He thought that now he would be able to do something with that harness, if he could ever get his arms to respond. Now they just quivered and ached He glared upward into the blinding oblivion, the light seemed to ring in his ears. He looked at the door. Still closed. He was so hot. He just wanted to pass out. She pleaded loudly. “Have to stay focused! Die later!” He closed his eyes. It all went away…

Will finally opened hi eyes. He was on his back. He was tired and hot. “Oh f**k me it wasn’t a dream!” He sat up. His back cracked. His bandages were loosening. Bone slid against bone. He groaned. “Alan!” He took in another ravenous gasp of smoky air. “F**k!” He groaned again and went back down.

Some time had passed. Alan was unsure how much. It felt like he’d slept for days and could have many later. But something jolted him from his slumber. Loud screaming and something else. Some new sound dripped a ripple through his subconscious. The mechanism on the door was clacking. It rattled loudly from one side to the other then stopped and the door popped open slightly.

Using the chair for support, Alan stood. He couldn’t stand to look at her. She was just a mess an crying. The wheel had separated from her enough and now standing on a level surface, removing the rods could be done, assuming he could figure the contraption out. It was designed to look simple, but it gave him unease. He was waiting for the whole thing just to blow up. No, that would probably be too simple for this person. Too crazy just to blow them all to pieces. This was better and it took longer too. “Brenda, its’s Alan. I think the worst is over. We stopped it!

“You didn’t stop it! It’s all over me! Gooood! Help me!”

“Yeah. I’m going to give it a try, if I can get back up there. My hands aren’t what they used to be.

It took time, but finally Brenda was free. He helped her down and they both collapsed.

…sometime later

The water was warm, however it cooled her face ever so slightly. Her eyes burned. Her lids stuck together. She held her face in her hands.

“It’s not that bad.” Alan offered. He let her use the rest of the water, the little good it did. He offered to apply the alcohol in the kit, but she flatly refused. While she sobbed, tended again to the wounded mans legs. This wrap was double tight. The man complained and thanked him. “The door opened.”

Will whipped his hand down hard. “So f*****g what! I’m not going any farther. He glared at Brenda. “So, what’s your story sweet heart. What makes you so important, we have to bust our f*****g asses to keep you from getting cut in two. Come on! Spill it!”

Brenda scowled indignantly back at him. “ I’m nobody. So f**k yourself. I’m a house wife. I don’t have any enemies. This is happening because of one of you two a******s.!”

Will hissed. “Hear that dock? Your precious damsels’ turned out to be one hell of a b***h. Ha ha! We didn’t hang you up in that thing lady. We were tied up just like you. Well, not exactly like that, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t remember anything? How you got here?”

“No. My head hearts like s**t!

“Well try not to touch it” Alan cautioned. “ So come on, there has to be something. What’s the last thing you can remember?”

Brenda gathered herself. “I remember kissing my husband goodbye, this morning. Everything else is just a jumble.

“Jason. That’s the name you yelled.”

“Yeah. I think he might be here.”

Wills eyes popped open. He was sitting against the raised platforms cold face. It was everything to him just to not move. If not for the woman he might be fast asleep already. “What!”

“That song.”

Alan nodded. “ The Carpenters. What about it?”

“I danced to it on my wedding day.”

Will mouthed the words he was thinking. He scooted away from Brenda in protest to this revelation. He was glaring at her, he had been.

Alan decided to keep the empty bottles. He was right next to her dropping them into the sack with the kit and bandages. He stopped in mid motion. “Seriously?”

Brenda turned away from her staring match with Will. She looked at Alan. “ Look at me. I am scared for the rest of my f*****g life. I’ve been part of some sickos twisted science project and I am just mad as hell! But you know something, I would trade my anger. I would look the other way just to get out of here. But no, we have to go through that door over there. We’ve only just begun.”

Alan grinned. He got. “It doesn’t mean whoever is doing this was there.”

“Bullshit!” Will interjected. “How else would anyone know about that, huh?”

“Look. The way I see it we have two choices. We can sit here and bullshit, or we can go through that door. Obviously there is someone else here and they know whatever they know about us, but we can’t think about that now. So this joker knows a song you like. So f*****g what. At lest it wasn’t Celine Deion.”

Brenda returned Alan’s smile. It was nice she could still be cheered up even despite all that was happening. There was still a fighting spirit within her, but she really was not ready for a fight. “I like you Alan. I like you better than your friend here.”

“I bet your husband is behind this whole thing.” Will said it more as a joke, but he was also quite serious. He was more convinced than ever Brenda was behind this, or responsible in some way for his situation.”

She snapped back at him. “So everything is just a big f*****g joke to you isn’t it. My husband loves me.”

Alan rested back on his knees. His strength of breath was stubborn to return and there was no water and it was still just so hot. Now with all of this blurry glowing light above there was no refuge from the scourge. His attention remained on the door. There was no fancy key system this time. Now, they were being teased. Taunted. Dared. “I vote less bickering and we at least open the stupid door. We did save your life lady. I realize, maybe we could have done better.”

Brenda exhaled loudly. She’d already been through much more than she’d ever expected. She was at the doorstep of certain death. Everything was bad, but she was alive! “No no. Sorry, I’m just a little out of it-still. Thank you, well both of you. F**k. It would really have cut right through me!” It was again too much for her and she buried her head down between her legs.

Alan was determined to get to his feet, but it took him a great long while, but standing finally made him feel good and that gave him a sliver of confidence.

Soon enough, Brenda was on her feet as well and they Helped Will to the door.

FISH IN A BOWL

****

The door was heavy and stiff. Alan was able to move it aside, there revealing a long, flat, square hall. All was gray. At the end was what looked like another door, however there was no obvious means for its opening. Just above it, he could make out another camera. His attention was drawn to the floor just past the opening. There were three medium sized, clear plastic bottles of water set in a triangle. He wondered, “Did whoever is behind this really have THAT much faith they would save the girl? I didn’t. She could just have easily died.”

“Well?” Brenda looked at Alan. She helped Will to one side of the hall. “It could be poison.”

“If it is then we’re already fucked, but I don’t think so.” Alan knelt and snatched one of the bottles. The cap was secure. He ripped it off and squeezed every last drop down. He dropped back against the opposite wall, squeezed the empty plastic and threw it angrily down the hall. He was very hot. His arms and chest were sore, but he had found his breath. “What the hell is that?”

A bit farther down, there was something on the floor. Brenda was already unscrewing a bottle and handed it to Will. She then opened the last one and drank close to half. She then stood and went forward. What she found, perplexed her. She took it and went to Alan. “I don’t get it.” She handed it to him. Two, blue baby rattles linked together at their handles.

Alan was not the lest bit amused. There was a second camera. It was over the door they’d come through. It looked down at them. The all seeing eye. He looked from the rattles to the camera, then back. He then chucked them at the camera. Direct hit, but no damage. He emptied the sack. This camera looked lower than the other one. With one good jump he was able to get the sack over it. He pulled hard. There was a loud crack. “Come on you son-of-a-b***h!” He pulled again. This time it came down and he swung the bag around a couple of times and bashed it against the wall.

“Are you done? You are wasting what little energy that water might have given you,” Brenda said.

“No! Actually, I’m not done.” Alan skulked off down the hall, swinging the bag at his side as he went. “You want me! You’re going to have to come get me!” He swung the bag harder and harder, then flung it upward at the camera. It was a direct hit. The device exploded, but Alan felt no relief and the rage within him festered.

The frame of the door was rectangle shaped, however its impediment was not of the same material as the rest of the corridor. It was brown and had the texture of carved stone, pitted and uneven. It appeared to be separate from the wall itself. There was no obvious means of ingress.

Alan dropped the bag. He was breathing heavily again. He stepped closer to the door. He touched it, ran his hand across its uneven surface. “This is a bunch of f**k.” He pounded his fist against it. “Are you in there you f**k! Huh! You know what’s going to happen when I get this door open! You’re going to f*****g die!”

The others were behind Alan now. Will stayed against the wall. Brenda held the bandages and kit. She grabbed the bag, shook it empty and dropped the items into it. Alan turned around and leaned against the cold stone. He looked at them both, crossing his arms. He shrugged his shoulders. “Now what?”

Will was continuing to glare at Brenda, but he was trying not to be obvious. He didn’t’ want to piss her off. In his present condition she could probably kick his a*s. There was something about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it just now and his mind was a whipping blur, residuals of whatever drug he was given. He couldn’t even remember that. But when he looked at her, there was something. A tinge of recognition. He was sure they had never met. He was holding the last of the water. Alan was sucking his bottle down. “F**k it.” He drank, swallowing hard. He gasped and threw the plastic to the floor. “Well that’s that.”

Suddenly, the wall behind Alan began to move. It pulled him with it to the left until he spun around. It moved with a slow grinding growl. It sounded hungry. So was he. It felt like he hadn’t eaten in days.

A gap appeared in the rotating wall. The crunching was replaced by a hollow, wailing echo like a chorus of distant trumpets. Brenda gasped, her eyes widened. She was looking into a large room with a smooth, curved, concrete wall and floor. She pointed over Alan’s left shoulder. “Look!”

Even as Alan turned, the opening rolled away. He faced Brenda. “What was it? What did you see?”

“I-I’m not really sure. It went by so fast. It was a room. It looked pretty big. I didn’t see anything in there.”

Leaning against the wall, Will had had a different angle. “There was a box of some kind. It was white and there was something hanging from one side of it. It looked like a chain, maybe. Hey, maybe your husband’s inside it.”

Brenda eyed him narrowly. “You just shut the hell up. I’ve already had enough of your bullshit.”

Will stiffened. “You know what woman we just busted our f*****g asses trying to save your life. As far as I’m concerned I’m allowed to talk a little s**t. Look at us. We’re all fucked up. But you know what, it’s all good. Alan has been enjoying playing leader. I vote we let the woman make the decisions for a while.”

Alan laughed crassly. It was fleeing, but helped. “Alright alright, come on. It doesn’t matter who makes the decisions. We do everything together or we do nothing, it’s the only way we’re getting out of this s**t.”

The rolling wall opened again. A figure, cloaked in black, stood directly behind Alan. It grabbed his left wrist and rose it through the opening. The grip was firm, but it did not pull. Alan jerked around. His wrist cracked loudly in its dark gloved grip. Alan grabbed the dark man’s arm, tried to pull back but to no avail. His head was through the door. He cursed the figure, glaring into its shadowy blackness. He threw a punch, but it was parried. Brenda, momentarily stunned, grabbed Alan by the waist and right shoulder and pulled back with all of her might. Even still, the dark man maintained a slight advantage. The wall began to close. As they struggled it continued to slide shut. At the last possible moment the dark man relented. He released his grip, but not soon enough. The tip of Alan’s middle finger clipped off in a smack of blood which trailed through the air, dusting Will’s stunned face as the two fell to the floor.

“F**k!” Alan screamed and screamed again. He was making a tight fist and squeezing it with his other hand. Brenda helped him to sit against the wall. She went immediately to the bag and grabbed a roll of bandage and some of the medical tape. He growled and festered. A ball of rage with nowhere to roll. “That m**********r!” He winced, pounding the back of his head against the wall. “How bad is it? Just wrap it. I don’t want to look.”

Will slid down next to him. “Some doctor.”

“I’m a nurse, you stupid moron. Just shut the f**k up.”

Brenda pried his fingers apart. His palm was ragged and covered in blood. It was not good. Most of the tip of his finger was gone. It was a clean slice. Blood oozed from the wound. “Alan this is bad. You have to make a fist, as tight as you can.” She cupped her hands around his and they squeezed. “Good.” She exhaled sharply. “Lets just hold it for a while. Just relax.”

The door sluiced open. Will tensed against the wall. His first instinct was to was to jump to his feet, but the assailant would be easily upon him. The space was empty. Will could feel a stiff cool breeze emanating from the room, He could see the white box again. It was set in a smoothed track which stretched to the other end of the room, between 30 & 40 feet. There was indeed a length of thick metal chain connected to the box in some way he could not see. “Guys!”

Even as they looked, the door rumbled closed. Alan cursed again. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and gritted his teeth. The pain in his hand coursed through his body, rattling his brain. He struggled to maintain composure. The warmth of Brenda’s hands helped. It gave him something of a distraction. They felt good. Without her he would probably just have gone mad, maybe strangled Will. The thought had crossed his mind.

A short time later Brenda loosened her grip. She pealed Alan’s fingers back. The bleeding had subsided and she could now wrap it. “There, how does that feel.”

Alan groaned. He held his hand up. “What a f*****g mess. I am really going to kill this son-of-a-b***h. I had my hands on him!”

While the woman had been helping Alan, Wills attention had been focused on the rotating door. He’d managed to get to his feet. He’d moved closer to it in an attempt to glean more details from the adjoining room. The door wooshed open with another burst of cold air. This cycle, he noticed, was more aggressive. Faster. The door slammed closed in his face. It was grinding louder, more violently. He found himself becoming mesmerized by its movement. The door exploded open again. It was a loud, sudden bang and the gust of air pushed him back. It closed quickly with another throng. Will took another couple stutter steps backward. He could feel the blood draining from his face. “Um-guys, I think we have a new problem.”

Alan had found some measure of focus. He allowed Brenda to help him as they stood. “What is it?”

Will pointed. “The door. It’s moving a lot f*****g faster now. Can’t you feel it? You certainly can hear it.”

He was right. They could all feel it beneath their bare feet. A slow methodical vibration continuing to grow. They stared at the rotating door. There was really only one choice.

Brenda could stand it no longer. She stepped close to the door. It’s cold wind blasted into her, blowing her hair in myriad directions. The door flashed open and in a blink it was closed. Its force pushed her back. “Jesus. She looked back at he men. “We really have to do this now!”

Will frowned and folded his arms across his chest. “Why? What happens if we just stay right here? You really think this sick f****r is just going to accept us dying right here? He’s gone to a lot of trouble here. I vote we stick it out. See what he does.”

“And what if he does nothing? He could just as easily leave us here to starve. I’m hungry right now, aren’t you?” Alan asked.

Will shrugged. He was and thirsty and tired and in a good deal of pain. Even just standing here was appealing to him, but he didn’t want do die in this hallway. “This is such bullshit.”

“Guys. This door, it’s not slowing down. I’m going for it, on the next one.” Brenda took a deep breath, trying to steel herself. The opening had whipped by her three more times. It would come again and again. The opening stormed past her again, the tempest stunned her frozen. “S**t!” It’s too fast!”

“You know what, f**k this guy!” Alan stepped next to her. “Move back.” He got as close to the door as he could. The whirling air rushed up his nose. He refused to blink, determined to go through on the next pass. The door appeared, but it was such a shock that even his moments hesitation was too much. It was gone. He clenched his fists. He would go on the next one. In another instant the door was open, but he did not step through he was pushed hard. He fell forward to a sliding halt. The door slapped shut

Brenda looked defiantly at Will. “It’s your turn tuff guy!” She reached out her hand and he reluctantly took it. Listen. I’m going to do the same thing okay? One good push. It’s the only way you’re going to make it. Alan will catch you. Get up close to it.”

The door streaked by again. Will saw the man for just a moment. He wasn’t very close. “He’s not going to catch me!”

“Yes he will. On the next one okay?”

“F**k!”

The door came and went. Brenda was not ready. It was too fast, now horribly loud like an approaching massive tornado. The hall was beginning to shake. “Okay! Ready!” The opening appeared. She heaved as hard as she could and pulled herself back so abruptly that she tripped and fell on her a*s.

Alan had come closer to the door, just in time to receive the wounded man. Wills head slammed into his chest and they fell back, both cursing and struggling to untangle from each other. Will screamed in pain as he rolled away.

The room was a large sphere. They were between two white blocks each a chain extending from its center. One end was firmly imbedded, the other lay in a short coil inside the track. There was something on the free end. The rotating wall segment had elevated to fiendish roar, its taunting reverberated across the curved walls and through them. Faster, terribly faster it spun. Alan crept tentatively towards the door. He saw that the gap in the segment was only slightly larger than the door its self. It wisped open. Their eyes met for one terrifying instant, then she was gone. The segment charged around again, impossibly faster. “Brenda!” She was already screaming but was immediately cut off. “S**t! Woman you have to come now!”

“F*****g grab her man!

Alan looked quickly back. “Right. We’re both going to die.” But it was the only thing. Maybe she would jump, maybe she wouldn’t. If she did and he was too far forward when he had her, one or both of them would be crushed. It would be fast, but probably not fast enough. He was less than an inch from the beast. It hissed at him and rattled his core. He stared dead ahead. In another moment the opening was in his left peripheral. It came a mighty juggernaut. He held his breath and lifted his hands. They shook. She was right there! Her hands were not at his level. He lunged forward for the closest thing, her neck. He gripped and jerked back in one charged motion. Their heads clanked woodenly together and she fell over him sending them down. The door crashed closed.

….a short time later

Alan was sore and beat the hell up. He rested against one of the blocks. His eyes wondered around the curved room. The wall was smooth and gray, while the rotating section was more brown and pitted. It’d been slowing down and now come to a near stop. It was quiet now save the rapid beating of three hearts. He watched Brenda. She had walked around the room a couple times, now she was focused on the box opposite him and the chain extruding from it. She pulled it strait. There was a thick, shiny brass key shaped object at the end. He shook his head. “More bullshit.”

Brenda set the key atop the box. “I don’t get it. Keys, but for what?”

“Hey doc. Could you have another look at my legs, they hurt like s**t.”

Alan hadn’t been thinking. He was tired and angry and in pain of his own. His hands were shot and now his finger was throbbing pulsating mess relentlessly pounding his brain. But Will was way worse off. “S**t, sorry man.” Luckily, Brenda had taken the sack before she’d come through. The wall had completely stopped. He opened it. There was a small, silver scissors in the first aid kit. He went to the man. “It will be less painful and easier if I cut your jeans some. What do you think.”

“F**k it. These are done. So am I, I think. What is the point of this anyway? Why doesn’t this f****r just come out and kill us.”

“Maybe he has a conscience, on some level. He’s a sick twisted f****r, but murder is a different thing. Not everyone can just kill. Maybe this is how he gets off. Who knows.” Alan produced the scissors. With some effort he was able to slit Wills jeans to the knees. The bandages had lost their grip and were fairly soaked with blood and sweat. “Alright just relax, I’m going to takes these off. We still have some, so I’m going to use the fresh ones and put these on top. That should be better.” The cuts to his skin and bone were swollen, black and blue and coagulated. Alan grimaced.

“Still bad huh, yeah I feel as good as you look.”

Alan exhaled sharply. “It could be a lot worse. He could have broken your legs or something else fucked up. He did this just to slow you down, make you less of a threat and keep us here longer. If he wanted us dead, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah well I’ve definitely slowed down.” Will laughed dryly. “But I can still kick the s**t out of him if he shows his face again.”

“Hey guys, I see what we have to do.”

Alan wrapped the mans legs tight. He placed the kit and remaining bandages and tape in the sack. “Just wait here. I’ll go see what we’ve got.” He went over to Brenda. She was leaning with her back against the box. “Alright genius what’s the deal.”

“Look.” She pointed directly across the room. The opening in the rotating wall had stopped afore another door, closed of course. There were two rectangle notches in the wall, one on either side of if. It was fairly strait forward, Brenda thought. “We have to get these keys into those two holes. See, these spaces go all the way. We have to pull them, or push.”

Alan’s eyes narrowed. He walked around the block. It’s surface was course. “Well I don’t know how the hell I’m going to do this. My hands are fucked. Will can hardly walk, he’s not going to do this.”

“I don’t see any timer in here, maybe we can take our time.”

“Yeah. Maybe. You should go first. See how heavy these blocks are.”

Brenda sighed. Sure. My head was almost cut in half and have holes in my body. Other than that I’m right as rain!” But Alan was right. She was going to have to try, so she grabbed the chain and gripped it tightly in both hands. She took a few deep breaths and started pulling. Her tiny amount of progress was met with an astounding occurrence. A jet of water sprayed up from behind the block, lifting high into the air. Startled, She loosened her grip and stepped back. “Well! Now we have water.”

Alan’s eyes were wide as saucers. He stepped around the block and dipped his head into the streaming liquid. It was cold and refreshing. He repeated the motion again and again. He drank from it. It chilled his body. He could feel the life returning. It was the best water he’d ever tasted. He wiped his face with his hands as he stepped back. “Go ahead. It’s fine.” He went to the sack and retrieved the two bottles. He drank more and filled them.

Will got to his feet. He went to the block. Brenda helped him and they all drank and drank.

Alan had a bad feeling about this. As good as this water was, something was wrong, maybe not with the water. “How difficult was it to pull the block that far?”

Brenda parsed her lips. “They’re f*****g heavy. I was about out of breath when that happened. What are you thinking?”

“Lets give it another try. I’ll help.”

They went back around to the chain and stepped into the track. Alan stood in front of her. They grabbed a link and pulled with all their might. The block gave a bit more ground. With their combined effort it would be possible to get the block to the other end. The increased water flow seemed to push it along. The water continued to flow. Fast enough, it had covered the floor of the cage and filled the track . The cold rushed over their feet, frothy and foreboding. Alan slipped. He splashed sharply to one knee, still he pulled but then it was too much. He stomped forward yelling. Brenda had had it too she slammed the chain down. They hadn’t gotten the block very far. This was a pretty large looking room. Brenda pondered into the ripples left from the chain. “could the whole room fill up with water?” Alan was continuing his trek to the opposite door. He kicked hurriedly into the water. He was most of the way before Brenda grabbed him by the shoulder, whipping him around. “No! We have to keep pulling!”

Alan pulled her away and righted himself towards the door. “ I’m done pulling anything, I’m going to go-over here-to this space and pound the s**t out of it until this m**********r"“

Brenda was on him again. She pulled him around the opposite way and this time she punched him in the head, hard.

Alan went down, but was up fast “Woman!”

“Look around you! There’s no time.!”

He stared emphatically at the blocks and the water. Damn it was not stopping. “You know what, it’s fine. Well get them as far as we can,” Alan hastened back to what now was beginning to resemble a park fountain. “Will!” He pointed at the man. “Go down there and wait. We’re going to need you at some point buddy. Go!” He retrieved the chain and ripped close to the block. If he blocked just everything out, if he made his mind blank, it seemed he could move it, if only slightly.

Brenda was fast behind him.

WATER ESCAPE SEQUENCE TO BE STORY BOrded

The stars were pounding through Brenda’s mind. Vacant spiraling pools danced across her wavering, sinking view. She’d made it down and knew that this would be her last time. She could see one of the men on his knees, gripping the adjacent key, having somehow found its mark. She could not tell which of them it was. The other was lying face down against the wall. Brenda needed only a few inches more. She only had a few moments more and then there would be nothing left. Live was leaving her. She began to feel very cold and suddenly smaller. Her mind flashed white hot. As she furiously jammed the shaped key into its slot. She closed her eyes and pushed the last thoughts out of her mind. “Turn!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

There came a massive whirling the powerful churning of vacuums. The water was crisp and still for but a moment then suddenly all was bubbles and froth and hollow sucking. The water left Brenda. She collapsed, unable to cough. She fought for her life. Free from the suffocating grip of death, but not her loss of mind. She fought for her peace of mind. Someone had taken most everything else. She knew if she slipped away now they would all die here. One or both of them could be dead already. She would have to fight and fight hard. She did and not a moment too soon. She made the triple vision come together enough. Everything was pain. Every thought wrought cascades of agony on her, but she refused to succumb to the darkness. It was all around her now. Everywhere. Her head darted around frantically. For a moment she forgot who she was and there was more panic. She saw the man. He was on his stomach. “He dies you die.” He dies you die!”

Brenda was freezing and frantic. She grabbed Alan’s left shoulder and rolled him over. “Alan!” She smacked him twice and shook him hard. “Oh my f*****g god! You’re not breathing!” She franticly began cpr.

Will was still gasping for breath. Forever frozen in his kneel. Hands eternally clutched to the key. A key turned maybe just too late. His eyes would not un-squeeze. The oxygen entering his body seized him and his coughing was uncontrollable. He was in a world of his own and his mind was chaos. His eyes were bloodshot and completely dried. Any blink took amazing effort. Somehow he was not dead, dying maybe, but not yet dead. Someone still had to finish the job. They would have to get him from behind. Now would be a good time. Out of the corner of Will’s left eye and through his tattered hair he could see Brenda. Her desperate pleas wretched through him with a perfect, poignant agony that he had all but succumb to and he began to weep. But not with tears of sadness or fear. “Is he dead!”

Brenda did everything she could and everything she’d ever seen in a movie, but there was only so much to be done. She pushed and pushed and blew and blew and blew until she had truly nothing left.

“Is he dead!”

“Damn it I don’t know!” “Alan!” She smacked him again, harder this time. Maybe that’s what did the trick. He jerked convulsively up and they smacked heads a second time, hard. Now they were both on the ground, coughing and crying. It was too much. It was all too much…

Hours, days even may have passed. Brenda could not be sure. She was only consciously aware of opening her eyes and looking up at the wired opening. There still was light, but she would never reach it. All around her was quiet. She felt tired and hot and drained and beat to s**t, but some bit of rest had given her perhaps a second wind. She sat up. She looked closely at Alan. She ran a hand through his hair. Still asleep. Her back was very stiff. She turned to look at Will. He’d released his grip and was seated against the wall. He was out.

This was a very strange room. The water had completely receded, now two long pools separated the floor. They were crisp and clear and shinny. Brenda was far, far beyond thirsty. “What is thirsty?” The pool was very inviting and she crawled to it. The water was cold and refreshing.

“That is a really bad idea.” Alan’s voice was dull, low and raspy. He knew it was bad. He was rubbing his throat. It was tight and stiff. He coughed again and again and held his stomach. It felt like someone had just kicked him chest. Hard.

“Jesus, you scaired me.” Brenda said. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I must of blacked out or something. I don’t remember much.”

Brenda glared down into the rippling stream. “It’s okay. She looked back at him. She tried to smile. “We made it!” She sat back, dizzy with excess. “I don’t care how bad it is for me, it’s f*****g water.” She took a few deep breaths, looked around the room. “At lest we still have the bottles. We can take some with us. Not much, but it’s something. Maybe there are still bandages in the bag as well. It’s over there. One of the bottles is over there.”

Alan was refusing to share her optimistic appraisal of the situation. “Made it. Made it where! Ha. Yeah, we really made it lady. S**t. F****r, tried to drown us. I have had enough of this.”

“You think I haven’t. You should drink some of this. It will make you feel better. It has to be over ninety degrees in here. What about Will, he isn’t moving.”

Alan looked over at the man, still slouched against the wall below the key hole. He was closer, so he went to him. Will was alive, but in a deep sleep. That was better for him. Alan pulled up his right pant leg, revealing the badly bruised wound. Mostly the bleeding had stopped. That might change when he got back to his feet, assuming that was going to happen at all. The bandages were gone. He would need to redress. The bag was on the other end of the room. “Well we’re all fucked up pretty good now buddy. You cant walk, I can’t talk and the girl is going to die from whatever poison is in this s**t water!” Alan stood. He winced as his back popped. His knees felt weak. He looked at the space between the keys. There was no door. The wall had not begun to revolve. He threw his hands up and turned to Brenda, who was in the process of retrieving the bag and bottle. “So. We made it, but there’s no way out.” Maybe now we’re supposed to climb, Or dig.”

Brenda filled the three bottled and dropped them into the sack. She then went to the men and handed Alan the wraps and kit.

“Hopefully I can do this before he wakes up.”

While Alan worked, Brenda wondered around the room. She ran her hand across the curve of the wall. She made the circuit, stopping between the keys. “Well I only see one way out of here, but it’s not my turn to be the guinea pig.”

“What is she saying now?” Will whispered.

“Who knows. I can hardly hear anything. I feel like I am under water still. My joints are stiff. My ears wont pop. I don’t know how long these bandages will last.”

Will bobbled his head against the wall. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. His body was completely numb. He was feeling disconnected. His mind was racing.

“I’m not going under the god damn water. Do you idiots hear me!”

Alan begrudgingly forced himself to turn. “What in the hell are you talking about.”

“I am talking about how we are getting out of this f*****g room! See any doors?”

“Great. Now the woman’s starting to come unglued. Just breath. F**k all of this s**t! The door is right in front of you.” He had no energy even for the conversation. “Well look, there’s no way in hell I’m diving down there. Not even to look around. There has to be another way.” Alan turned back to the man. He finished his work. “There you go. Good as new.”

“Right, and guys, I think I figured out how to open the door.” Will pointed up at his key.

Alan glanced left to right. “Holy s**t.”

Nothing is ever that easy.

Will had had the strength to give his key at lest one half turn. Brenda had not. Hers only turned half. Alan stood and approached the key.

“Wait!” She stepped beside him. “I’ll do it.”

Alan rose his hands in mock surrender. “Whew. He gave us half a chance.”

She gave him a stern look. “Who’s he?”

“Don’t look at me like that. What, you think some crazy b***h did all this? I mean I know some crazy ones. But not like this. No, I feel it. Somewhere around here there is some crazy f*****g guy and he is trying to either kill us or get us to kill each other. Maybe he thinks he has something on us. I don’t know. I don’t know. I keep trying to remember what the last thing is I DO remember, but I’m so tired and beat to s**t feeling and f*****g thirsty-“

“Then drink some water it’s fine.”

“-I don’t want any of that water what I want is to f*****g, god damn remember!” Alan was starting to shake. He brushed his hair back from his face and leaned against the wall.

“I just think it would make you feel a little better. Now I’m going to turn this key. So maybe you want to hold up another part of the wall.”

Alan rolled his eyes and scowled. He helped Will back to his feet. As Brenda completed the turn. There was a loud click and a distant echo of some infernal mechanism. The wall lurched back to life. This time it traveled the opposite way. In short time there was revealed an exit, however the wall did not stop. The game would begin again, but this time experience was on their side. Ahead looked very dark. There was some dim light farther on. “Well I’m done playing chicken. At the next opening Alan stepped through onto a grated metal catwalk surrounded in piercing darkness. He wanted to remain petrified. He could feel the wind of the door, its shrill tingling terror. It had a piece of him. It wanted more. He forced himself several steps forward. One rotation went by in order to better insure Will made it through. Alan got a good hold of him and he was able to step through. Brenda came last with the water.

There were two points of light amidst the abject darkness the trio now faced. Falling was a one way ticket to oblivion. Strait ahead there shown a dim orange-ish yellow glow. The other, a softer blue, seemed somewhat lower and to the left.

No one really wanted to lead and the relentless wooshing of the door was only adding to an already unreasonably tense situation. They were surrounded by fear. Forever lost in the trappings of a devil. Alan was slightly more motivated. It was his turn to be pissed off, but stomping off into the void did not set well. Steps were cautious. The light became somewhat brighter though as they approached and the catwalk was plenty wide. The source was a simple bulb attached to a cord which vanished above. Tied to the cord was a string, at the end of which was a small fish hook. Its curve pierced the page of newspaper. Alan’s first instinct was to grab it, but he’d seen just one too many movies. He looked very closely at the bulb. It was simple. He slowly lifted the string and removed the hook.

It took some time for it sink in. It wasn’t ever going to fully, not now anyways. Alan was dumb-struck. He could feel the blood draining from his face and the sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach, the one you get when you know something bad is about to happen. Bad things had already happened. But this, this was something else. This was different. Old ghosts from a past long forgotten were beginning to resurface. Old nightmares. He couldn’t even speak. He gripped the page tighter. Maybe it just will go away!

Nothing ever really goes away.

Alan moved to the rail. The page was in his left hand. He gripped the smooth cold metal. He squeezed his eyes tightly, forcing the vomit from his throat. It passed and he let out several deep breaths. “No. Can’t be.”

“What is it Alan?” Brenda asked. She set the bag down and stepped more into the light. He flashed the page out to her and she snatched it. The main article was that of the remarkable story of a nine year old boy. A boy whom had gone missing for a period of close to two years. One day, he escaped. It made national news. “Hey wait a minute. I remember this! I remember my parents wouldn’t let me play outside for forever. Wait. Where do you guys live?”

Will shook his head. “I’m not telling you s**t. I live in the state.”

“You’re right that tells me s**t. Look, we can hate each other and suspect each or we can work together. Now here. Do you remember where you were when this happened?”

Will took the paper. “Sure. Yeah, I remember so what?”

“I lived it.”

A stupefied grin escaped from Wills mouth. “What in the f**k are you talking about.”

“That’s me.”

“You son of a-“

“Now wait!” Brenda could see the fire returning to Wills eyes, but this was not going to be another five minuets of yelling. Maybe later. She held the rail. Sort of an artificial barrier keeping the two of them from trying to kill each other. She looked up into his eyes. They were black mixed with red. Ominous and dark. Inhuman. “Are you saying to us that you were this kid? Oh f**k.”

“Great. This is great. I mean this just keeps getting f*****g better and better! Next you’re going to tell me they never caught the guy. Am I right!”

Brenda Pleaded. “Alan. Tell me you know who did that to you.”

Alan closed his eyes again. Lowed his head. “No. No they never arrested anyone. That was-starting to fade away. It feels like it happened to some else, but now-now I don’t know what to think.”

“This is f*****g great. No, I see exactly what is going on here. This psychopath that napped you has decided to play a funny joke. Well it’s not funny! In fact I can’t think of a time when I’ve had less fun! The real question is what does any of this have to do with me and the woman. I knew this whole thing stunk from the beginning. He cuts me up so you have to help me along. Maybe he didn’t expect us to save you. But it doesn’t make any difference. Alans’ the target of this maniac we’re just, more fun maybe. I will say one thing for him he is resourceful. Where the f**k even are we? Huh Alan! Does any of this s**t look familiar.”

“F**k off.”

“Will just stop it! Alright, both of u. This was a long a*s time ago. Even if it is the same person, like you said Will, what is up with us? Huh? Cause that’s what I’d like to know to. You cant honestly think that either of us is in on this or caused it to happen.” She grabbed the page from Will and stuck it in the light. “This person knows us. Maybe they know everything about us. They know you were kidnapped as a boy. What’s the point? Why bring it up here? What the f**k is really going on here?”

“That’s another great question.” Will skulked. I got another one. What’s down there?”

Alan had been looking strait down. He hadn’t noticed the other light. It was over a door resembling that in a submarine, at one end of another catwalk some twenty or thirty feet down. Not a great fall. The ladder down was small and completely strait with the rail making it difficult to see, let alone get a hold of. In addition there was no open space in the railing, making things even more challenging.”

Will was not liking this. “You know what guys, I think I’m going to sit this one out. Drink some water.” He eased himself down and grabbed the bag. “You two want to go down there and open that door be my guest. Tell me what you find.”

Brenda had become thoroughly frustrated. She was feeling agitated and paranoid. She walked abruptly past Alan, soon disappearing into the black. Her steps continued to echo through the metal. She was back in a few moments. “It seems to just go on and on. I can’t see anything. I don’t know if going down is such a good idea, but we don’t have very many other options. Now the wack job is giving us a clue. Maybe we can use that somehow.”

“Clues.” Will said. “Don’t forget about the rattles. I don’t know, maybe we should have kept them. There might be a door somewhere around here that they open. Who the f**k knows!”

Brenda nodded. Yeah, there is that. Rattles. I don’t get it.”

“I get it.” Alan was beyond rage now. He was someplace else. Somewhere fresh and new. He wasn’t here, in the dark, fighting to stay awake and alive. Someone was sending him a message here. A very loud and clear one. Now he could kill. Now there was enough and he knew he could do it and still be a doctor. “You twisted f**k!” He whipped around. “F**k you! Why don’t you come out here so we can just end this! Huh? What is the big f*****g deal!”

“Alan.”

“No Brenda I do not think that that is too much to ask. None of us really can fight. Will. You know what I think?” He pointed into the darkness. “I think you are nothing but a chicken s**t!” He yelled, spitting, as if there were any moister left in his body to waste.”

“Feel better?”

Alan rested his shoulders against the rail. “Yes, actually. I know he heard me too wherever the son of a b***h is. He heard me. You know, physiological warfare can work both ways. Maybe you’re right Brenda. Maybe if we knew each other better we might be able to figure this out. Obviously someone knows s**t about us, but what do we know that he doesn’t” Maybe we’re here for information. Something he needs to know and he thinks one of us has the answer and you know what maybe it is the same b*****d. You can only kill someone once. That’s it. He knew how to get us all here and none of us can even remember that. I say we take our chances and go down the stairs. After we get down, I need a rest. Maybe I’ll drink a little water if Will doesn’t drain it all.”

Brenda nodded. She looked at Will. Come on dude, we can rest at the bottom, but we gotta get there. He put the bottle back in the bag and she helped him up.”

“Alright Brenda you go first so I can help you over. Looking strait down you could not see the ladder. She had to find it with her feet and go from there. Slow and dedicated steps. One f**k up and she knew it was over. The ladder was thin and creaky. It did not feel the lest bit secure.

“How are you doing?” Alan called. Even just a few steps down he could scarcely see her.

“I’m fine. I can’t see the bottom. Man is it dark. Send Will.”

“Ready partner?”

“Oh now we’re partners huh. Everything 50/50.” Will turned over a wildly fack Jack Nicolson smile.”

Alan was more in a Clint Eastwood type of mood. “That’s right. Or, I bash your head into this rail, kick you in the balls and throw you over! But not really. Now come on, see if you can get over. You’ll need to use your upper body more when you step down, but Brenda is right there. She will help you.”

“F**k, I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t think about it and don’t look strait down. Look at the ladder. Listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“Look at the ladder. I got you.”

Will swung around into position. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I guess, without you, I wouldn’t be.”

“Look man I don’t give a damn weather you trust me or not. Trust that I want to get the hell out of here just as bad as you do and I want to kill the son of a b***h that put us in here. I shouldn’t even talk like that.”

“You’re human doc. No shame in it. Watch, make sure I don’t let go.”

As the pair made their decent, Alan readied himself. He took a deep breath and stepped over the tri-rail. He looked down. Strait into the valley of death. There was nothing. Nothing till the ends of the earth. Now he was scaird. Just as he was about to step down he heard a noise. A clang, or something. A footfall? He froze, eyes darting wildly. There was nothing. He exhaled feverishly. He tried to compose himself and just carry on. Now both hands were clutching the second rail. One more and he was on the ladder. As he reached down with his right hand a shadow appeared, blocking a portion of the light. A sudden searing pain developed in Alan’s left hand and he screamed. His agony reverberated all around. Echoes from some abandoned hell. He was able just to get a handle with the right, but it was not good. Then came a hard smash to the left side of Alan’s face. His head went instantly white hot and pulses of light flashed across his vision. He groaned loudly, his body began to flayal back and as he struggled to regain blance a second blinding blow found its mark and he was crippled back. He was in a dive, head first.

Will watched him come in horror. There was nothing he was going to be able to do. “Alan!”

By sheer luck, Alan’s bashed left hand found the edge of the slim stairwell. He was, barely, still conscious and gave one last hard squeeze. There was no pain left in his body to feel. His grip was firm enough to slow his decent, but came a violent twisting of his body producing a series of grinding cracks, which he reacted to most unpleasantly. Now, he was done. He could feel the numbness tingling throughout his body. He was dying. He wanted to let go. “I can’t” He did.

Will grabbed Alan’s right hand as he released his grip. Alan swung out over the abyss. His right eye was open, however his left was bruised and bleeding. “Well, now you look worse than I do.” He was able to pull Alan back and shake him back at lest semi-conscious. “Hey, I can’t carry you down! We’ll both fall. Can you get below me?”

Alan was dizzy and experiencing vertigo. He vomited.”

“Oh for the love of Christ.”

Alan spit blood. His face felt numb and like there were some great pressure being applied to his left eye. How could he continue? He spit blood. “That-mother f****r. He tried to take my f*****g eye out! F**k!” His face was wet with blood and sweat, as were his hands. He continuously slipped. Death was always imminent.

Brenda, aware of the commotion, had hastened her decent. She was nearly at the bottom. The ladder ended in a pool of darkness, but the door was right there. There could be a hole in the floor. She stepped off the last rung and found solid metal. Looking up she could just make Alan out. He was climbing very slowly. Flecks of blood hit the rungs in front of her. Her eyes widened. More blood came. Jesus, he is hurt bad. How can this happen? By some miracle, Alan made it down, although he could no longer see. He collapsed into Brenda and they almost both fell. She held him. He cried. She glared upward into the darkness. The dark glared right back into her very soul. There were eyes everywhere, she knew. Unseen. Watching. She would her time have with this person. This shadow!”

“Hey!” I can’t see the bottom!”

Alan just wanted to collapse, so Brenda helped him. It was as far as he could go. She could see Will more clearly now. He was close. In no time he was down. And fairing quite better than one might imagine, given his condition. However, Alan was in a ball, so all things were defenetly not equal. But they were alive! Barely. She helped him into the light and against the wall.

“Thanks. You know, maybe you’re not-“

“Don’t even start.” Brenda was long past done with him.

There was pain, but he tried to smile and she was quickly gone. He still had the bag, but his bottle was nearly empty anyways.

“Hey. Alan.” She was afraid even to touch him and in the dark was so much worse. “Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts.” For a time, there was nothing. She feared he’d lost consciousness again. She checked his arm lightly. Still good. She gripped his shoulder. “Listen to me. You can’t die on me! You hear me!” She yelled at him in teary whisper. She hadn’t cried. Not even the one Alan had promised her. Not that he would remember that. He didn’t know she saved his life. He was completely tense. His body shook.

“A*s hole fucked me pretty good. I know. But I’m going to get him back. One you, two, it doesn’t make a difference. I’ll get him.”

Brenda half smiled. “I know you will. She was close to him now. She could feel his heat beat through her hands. It was a great comfort. You die, I die! “What do you want to do?” Just tell me.”

“I just want to stay here, for a while. I can see the light. It’s okay.”

“No. No I’ll stay right here. I’ll stay until you are ready.”

Part 2

CHAPTER 5

HORROR & THE BUTTERFLY

*****

All was quiet at the Charity farm. The stillness of night had yet to be broken by natures first tantalizing glimpses of life. The air was calm across fields of corn and barely. Even the dogs weren’t barking. The towering old metal wind mill had scarcely a breath to breath. There was peace.

The sun pierced the horizon. A rooster crows.

It was Sunday. Denver got to sleep an extra hour on Sundays. She cherished it. It kept her going. In all her years in law enforcement she’d learned to grip on to the little things. The things no one thinks about. The things most people take for granted. A kiss. A kind gesture, or a nice surprise. There were a lot of things she’d never shared. Not even with her husband of going 15 yrs. It was the life she chose. But its how you survive it at the end of the day. At the end of any day. It’s what you leave behind when you walk through the door to the people you love and who love you. Ten years as sheriff. She could run the entire state of Tennessee, but they never asked. She loved her job. It was the only one she’d ever had.

The mechanical clock reluctantly, begrudgingly clicked over and fell on 7:30. It was always an annoying sound. But Dale had learned to live with it. He lived with her. It was all he needed. But in another 20 or 30 years she could retire and he could finally get a good nights sleep. The klaxon never woke her, but she never knew it was him. At once she was awake. Wide eyed and prepared.

Before long, she was in the bathroom. While she readied, Dale laid out her uniform. It was just something he always did before he crawled back under the covers. He would always pretend to be asleep and she would almost always kiss him. Sometimes they would share a quick coffee before her ride into the city. She was the love of her life. They had a new born grandson of which they were most proud.

It was a quiet morning. They sat across from each other, sipping coffee and eating toast. A ritual they’d preformed for going on twenty years, almost as long as they’d been married. Denver was on her pad checking traffic updates. She finished her second cup steamy java. “Well hun, it looks like smooth sailing today. Suns going to be hot. Hotter than yesterday even. That’s hard to believe.”

“I need to go see Pete at some point. Washers are wearing out in a couple of the sprinkler heads.”

“Are you sure? I could pick them up.”

“No no, it’s fine. I haven’t been in the city in a while. Tired of being cooped up in this air conditioned bubble.”

“I like being in a bubble with you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

They kissed at the door, then Denver was through the screen and down the large, white, wrap around porch steps. Her white Jeep was parked in front. It said &*^&%^%^ County Sheriff in bold black letters on the side. She got in and closed the door. It was already to hot. She fastened her belt and immediately cranked the a/c on full. She waved to Dale as she pulled away. He blew her a kiss.

The drive to the city took her under ten minutes, but it always felt longer on the long lonely stretch of road. She passed nary a car at this hour. Most reasonable people were still in bed. There were still some dedicated farmers around, but it wasn’t like is used to be. Government regulations were crippling the industry more and more these days. She passed countless acres of flat, unused earth. How the times change. It was depressing. On the plus side, she could watch the sun rise. That made her smile. It gave her hope.

Ever since she was a little girl, Denver wanted to be a sheriff. She came from a long line of law enforcement. Her father, his and so on. It was really all she knew. She’d traveled this road on countless occasions with her father. She loved going to work with him. There was always something to do. Mostly, she stayed in the office. He said it was the safest place in the world. As Denver got older, he would take her with him on calls, or just patrol duty. It was all fun. She loved and cherished every second of that time. She remembered a few times when they had to chase the bad guys. One time he had to shoot a man. Years later, he told her that was the worst day of his life and he always regretted having to do that in front of her, but that day continued to resonate with her. It taught her her first serious lesson. Always be prepared to do what is necessary, even if it’s the last thing you want. Sometimes you simply have no choice. But that was a long time ago. Now, the power was hers. She had always been strong. Nearly twenty years of service had made her even more so and tuff as nails to boot. No one messed with Denver Charity.

Lazy rays of early sunlight danced shimmering angels across the landscape. They refracted against the jeeps windshield in sparkling flashes. Denver retrieved her dark, chrome tinted aviator sunglasses from a pocket in the visor and slipped them on. Like most everything else, they’d belonged to him . He’d driven this jeep for a long time. Kept it really nice. It was his own double barrel which rested upright in a locked shaft between the front seats. Pity on the fool who made her pull it out.

Now Entering

----------------- County

Pop. -----------

The Sheriffs station was a large, non descript, red brick building with a wide window facing the main road.

----------- County had always been Denver’s home. She knew virtually everyone and everyone knew her. It was a peaceful, family centered, god fearing place where nothing bad ever seemed to happen and most people had a smile on their face.

The security gate was in the back. Denver pulled up to the guard box and rolled down the window. “Morning Charlie? How’s the coffee?”

Charlie Dudson was a rosy cheeked, pudgy man. He’d been on the force for a number of years. They’d become good friends. He stepped out with a wide grin and his trusty clipboard which he promptly handed to her. “Chewable, but doable. No trouble on the way in I trust.”

“Not a soul in sight.” She smiled back. “How was the party? I know Tracy was really excited about graduating. Sorry I had to miss.”

“Oh you know, that’s all fine. Everything is fine. Duty calls!”

“Always.”

Charlie nodded and stepped back into his booth. Moments later the gate retracted and the jeep passed through. There were three garages. She pulled up to the first and pressed a button on her key chain. The door proceeded to clankiley retract. This was the largest of the three and closest to the front. There was plenty of space for the jeep and her partners faster Charger. The ramp to the entrance was nearly at her feet as she exited. Up the ramp, through double security doors. Put the guns in the thing. Go through the door. Take them out. Whatever the point was.

At once she was in the main hallway. It was very well lit. The light reminded her just how not awake she really was. Two cups of coffee were defienatly not kicking in nearly fast enough. She resisted the urge to yawn.

Denver headed right. She could smell it. That sweet aroma of fresh brew. It called to her. “Oh. Thank-you Sara.”

As if on que, Deputy Sheriff Sara Rand whisked out into the hall, hands full of coffee and manila folders. Her hair was dark and she had dark, mysterious eyes. The pair nearly collided in the cafeteria doorway.

“Jeeze Sara. It’s too early for surprises Looks like it was a busy weekend. You could have called.”

“Oh no we were fine. This is mostly updates from State and a handful of missing persons. Alex probably wants most of this. I’ll drop it all on your desk. You have like twenty messages. Half are from the fire department. Damn kids. Ruined everyone’s weekend now didn’t they.”

“They sure did get themselves all the attention they were after. More than that.”

“Yep and I don’t know how you drink this crap. One sip and I already want to just tare these walls down.”

They shared a laugh.

Denver made her way up the short flight of stairs to the main floor. It was early and quiet. The morning crew were already out and bout. Her secretary and other staff wouldn’t be in for a while yet. Only lead detective Alex Briss was at his desk, back in the far corner. Or perhaps, he’d never left. She caught his attention and they exchanged gestures. She walked left, past the long window and through the waist high, wooden swing door separating her area from the rest of the office.

The wall behind her rugged, mahogany desk was lined with book shelves containing a variety of law and law enforcement books, as well as various awards and family photos. Denver’s father had been a judge for ten years before becoming a sheriff. Most of what was here belonged to him. She’d left everything, for the most part, just as it’d been. A picture of the two of them in the yard when she was very young sat at the far left corner of the desk. It always mater her smile, but in a quirky, almost non snonenesceicle kind of way. There were lots of pictures of them, but for some reason this was the on he’d always kept here.

She leaned back a stitch in the large, curved wooden chair. It was older than she and creaked at every joint. She sipped coffee and watched as the first lazy signs of life began to appear. The first non-surprise was Larry Drumand pulling into the first spot at the front of his hardware store a block and a half down the road. Did he know she could see him? Did he know she could take him out? Nooo, that’s not nice. Next came two failure to signals. She was losing interest. She drank some more and let the day go. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty.

Envelops.

“Joy.” She reached over and reluctantly grabbed the stack. The pile was divided in three. The first two were for Tammy, her secretary/lead dispatcher. She would be here in an hour. She dropped those back where they were and tuned her attention to the remaining seven files. Missing Persons.

------- million people were reported missing in the U.S. and Canada last year. 85% were found dead, or never. Where do all the people go? It seemed as connected and interconnected as the world was today there were still wide gaps. There would always be mysteries never to be solved. This wasn’t even for her either. Alex would process all of this.

She opened the first dossier. It belonged to an attractive woman in her late thirties. Brenda Shanks. Fairly local. No record. Reported missing by her distraught husband. Three days.

“Damn.”

The next three were young children. More heart break. File five was that of a middle-aged black man with a healthy criminal record. She’d never heard of him. The remaining files belonged to two adult, caucasian males, both well outside the county line.

Denver frowned. No good news yet this morning. Outside, the sun was increasing its glow across the sharp, dark pavement. Her coffee was almost gone. “Well, time for a refill girl.”

The pot handle was nice and warm. It felt like home. She smiled. She knew what Dale was doing right now. Snoring. Something made her stop in the midst of pouring. It caught her cold. She froze, her eyes narrowing as thoughts raced. Something. A memory long buried. A memory of some half remembered dream. A name flashed across her minds eye. Alan Blakestone. Now the name stuck with her. She’d just read it. Her brow continued to furrel. So many names. Damn. It was already making her crazy.

She sat her mug down in a hurry and quickly exited the cafeteria. She was in the lobby in an instant. Alex was still at his desk in the back. He was a brilliant man with a close crop of dark brown hair and a strong build. He was ex-military and had worked as a bouncer for a number of years. As she approached, Alex looked up from his pad. “So, how are you this morning Alex? Did you go home last night?”

Alex sank back a little in his plush, back chair. He stretched and gave an exaggerated yawn.

“Yeah, me too. Hey, I have a name for you. Maybe you can help me with it.”

Alex interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Sure boss. Shoot!”

“Alan Blakestone.”

Alex cocked his from one side to the other. The name rolled around in his brain. “The boy?”

A sudden, panicked cry echoed in her ear. The shrill beam of a desperate, terrified mother. There was a flash of lightning. Tears in the rain. A slow but steady chill began to make its way up across the base of Denver’s spine. “I have his name on a missing persons file.”

“But that was-.” Alex paused. Her eyes were widening. “No. There’s no f*****g way. It’s just a coincidence, or it’s not the same guy.”

Denver exhaled heavily. “You know what, you’re probably right. Alex is a pretty common name. I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up.”

“Common as a cow bell. I have a cousin Alex. One of my wife’s brothers named his kid Alex.”

“Got it.”

“Do you want me to run it?”

“No-no. I can see you’re busy. I can do that. Thanks though. There are some other files you need to have a look at. Come get them, whenever.”

“Will do boss. Hey, you okay? You look like you just,-“

“I just saw a ghost. Yeah, I know.” She pressed her lips together harder. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t forget the files.” She turned ant walked quickly away.

The quarter door had yet to end its sway before she’d sat and pulled her sleek lap top out from a desk drawer. It did not take her long to learn the nauseating. She fell back in her chair, flabbergasted. She closed her eyes, but the images would not shake. “They took my boy!” They took my boy!” The frightening words crept back to her. Words that kept her up at night after that one stormy, pain soaked afternoon those many years ago, but not yet too many. It was always there, on the fringes of her memory. Now thrust to the surface. She could feel the look on her fathers face that day. It was much more than just that day though. Alan had been missing for the better part of two years. It was as though it would never end. The same question was on everyone’s mind. “Where did Alex go?” Then, one day BOOM! He comes running through the woods, literally from nowhere.

“It’s him isn’t it?”

Denver felt as though she might tip completely over. It was just too much. He opened her eyes. She glared past Alex into some deep distant place, dark and mostly forgotten. “This case-haunted my father. It bugged everyone around here I think for a while. Boy’s don’t just vanish into damn thin air.”

Alex crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Sometimes Denver, they do. That’s the hard end and the hard part, but its real.” He shrugged. “It’s the same guy, so what. Who knows what all he’s gotten himself into since then. Enemies he’s made. Mistakes he’s made, who knows.” He pointed a finger out towards her. “You know what, maybe he’s just�"“

“Super-duper unlucky?”

“Well I was going to say cursed, but yup, unlucky works pretty well. Pretty damn unlucky.”

“Unlucky? No. That was bullshit. Denver knew it in her gut. Something, was seriously wrong. She felt behind, as though a race had begun and she were still running to the line. Her mind began to race. She looked more directly at Alex, motioning for him to come through. He sat in front of her. “Name for me one case in this entire state of Tennessee involving an individual being kidnapped twice or more in their life. Don’t tell me you’re sure it happens all the time. I don’t give a damn about your statistical mumbo jumbo. I also don’t think luck has much to do with it one way or the other.”

Alex threw his hands up. “Look, I’m not saying it’s not a little bit bizarre, I’m just saying it probably happens more often than you might think. There’s a ton of people on the planet now. We’re breeding like locusts. It’s impossible to keep track of everyone, even for governments.”

Denver darted two fingers at him. “Too much science fiction channel for you.”

“Maybe all the missing people are really abductees.” He raised his pad. “It says it right here. Boy amazingly appears out of thin air. I didn’t write that. I kind of wish I had.”

“Yeah. Hunters picked him up. He’s been sleeping, or hiding. He saw their vests. It was weeks before the parents would let anyone in. Dad got to talk to him eventually, but no interview was ever recorded. Maybe someone talked to him later on, I don’t know, but they never made an arrest. I remember he wouldn’t let me even go outside for weeks, to say nothing of going in to work with him. He said there was something he was trying to find, but I always thought he was talking about something besides the boy. Mom told me he was cracking up.”

Well, what would you expect? Every time he looked at a picture of that kid he saw you. If my little girl was suddenly gone I’d probably cause an accident or two trying to find her. You were everything to him. Women, statistically speaking, can handle their emotions better. You cry and yell and get it all out, especially when facing the loss of a child. Men are more private. Domestic abuse in kidnapping cases is fairly common. Do you mind if I-“

“No please, he’s on top. Pretty strait card. No major offences. No offences at all really. He’s a doctor.”

“Yuck. OrangeBlume. That’s way out of my way. Works out of Franklin Pierce General. It’s a big place. Guy’s a boy scout. Any of these other names ring a bell?”

“Nope. Denver sighed. “You know what I want you to do Alex, since I have you here?”

“Something that’s going to make me late for the famous fried chicken Lana promised me this evening.”

Denver leaned forward. She spoke in almost a whisper. Her tone was serious and direct. “Go to OrangeBlume. Poke around. Stop in the main State station and see Sherriff Lawrence Briss. He probably hasn’t made the connection yet. Refresh his memory. Tell him your on a fact finding mission. Get me a copy of the report. Talk to everyone they talked to.” She relaxed a little. “Take Sams with you. You think you can get out there this afternoon?”

“More than likely.”

“I’m messaging his secretary, so hopefully he’ll be there, or nearby.”

“Alex stood. He tapped the files on the desk as he did. “It’s a coincidence. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Well that’s just what you get paid to find out today. Find out why Alan Blakestone Dr. hasn’t been showing up for his morning rounds. Find him and I’ll cook you the best damn fried chicken you’ve ever had in your entire life.”

Alex’s eyes went wide as saucers, but it was just for her. Lana’s was the best. “Really!”

“But you have to find him and on second thought, go alone. I want you to keep a low profile. I’m not sure about the media yet. I could do without the circus just yet. Lets try and wait until we know something.”

“Yeah. A lot of the beat guys, they know me. They see me walking around with one of your men…” “You know in one of my other jobs I’m a professional bullshit artist. Maybe you didn’t know that.”

“I don’t think you included it on your resume.”

“Oh its there, I’m sure. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Do. Alex, do be careful.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Denver rapped her fingers impatiently on the desks glossy surface. It’s funny what you remember.

Alex was turning to go, but then he stopped. “You said you heard his mother screaming, they took my boy.”

“That’s right. She was in the street. She said it, I don’t know, half a dozen times before they got her to go inside.”

“They? How do you suppose she knew there was more than one person involved?”

“I suppose nothing Alex. I know she was distraught and emotionally unhinged. Maybe she saw something that made her say that. I’ve never looked at the file myself. Now I kind of want to, but I’m not going down there right now. You’re welcome to. It’s in the dungeon, where we keep bigfoot and the u.f.o.s.”

“Funny boss.” Alex turned again to leave and as he did Sara was so abruptly behind him they nearly smacked into each other. “S**t Sara! I do have a gun you know.”

“You don’t know how to use that tiny thing you keep hidden. I got ya!”

Alex forced her a disapproving grin. She really thought she was something.

“Alex, we’re wasting time. These people don’t have it.”

He nodded and was gone.

“Please Sara.”

She sat down. Denver was, generally speaking, a serious minded person, but Sara saw something different in the woman’s light, frosty blue eyes this morning. Something cold, troubling. Something really bad must have happened. Did she want to know? She sat hesitantly, glancing back to where Alex had been. “He’s always in such a hurry. So. What’s up?”

Denver leaned back some. Enough for two loud, grainy creeks. One of them caused Sara a slight jump. Her eyes widened to meet Denver’s narrow, sun hardened stare. “See. I got you!” “What are you really afraid of Sara? Huh? What scares you? You have your revolver, but two tiny squeaks got your attention.”

“Cheap shot. Trick-or-treat isn’t for another month. Besides, I love scary movies. Zombies, not so much, but that’s all bullshit.”

“What if it wasn’t”

“Seriously?”

“No, of course I’m kidding. I do have a little something distracting me though. Something that happened a long time ago. When I was seven, an older boy was kidnapped here. You were living in Main at that time.”

“Yeah. I do remember something about that, but its pretty far back.”

“I was there that morning. I was sitting right where you are, reading the Sunday comics when the call came it. I could hear yelling over the phone, different voices. It was a complete surprise to me he even took me with him on the call, it sounded so serious, but I remember he insisted. It stormed the whole day. Just rain and more rain. They were in the middle of the street. Dad could easily have hit them. He went buy them some and stopped hanging half off the side of the road. I’d jumped in the way back like I liked to do. That stop bounced me around a little. It was hard to see through the window, but I could see a woman and a man crouched over her. She was just yelling and fighting with him and with dad. She yelled and screamed I’ve-I’ve never seen anything like it since really. Not like that. Something seriously wrong had happened. Something that never should.”

“Vanished.”

“Zero traces. No witnesses. Well Cassandra, the mother, we can’t count. Any evidence there might have been was washed away in the storm and most of the families hopes.”

“But they found him right?”

“No. He escaped.”

“Jesus. He was lucky.”

“Yes, but it looks like luck runs out, at lest for some people. Like Alan Blakestone, or us. You know what they say about lightning.

“It never strikes-in the-same…no way. Again! That’s too much.”

“He’s a doctor now. Been gone closer to three days now and not a single word. Alex thinks I’m reading too much into things. He’s right, people go missing all the damn time.”

“It is strange though and even stranger for this area. How many unexplained disappearances have we had? Two?”

“Not very many. Alex is on his way, begrudgingly, to OrangeBlume.”

“Oh, I like the NewYork style shows they do there.”

“Yeah, well that’s in the present. That’s not where I want to go.”

“His parents.”

“Well, the mother specifically. Father left the state years ago. The event, broke Cassandra, literally. She devolved into a recluse. She relied heavily on drugs, alcohol and whatever the doctor was giving her I can only imagine. Even Alan’s miraculous return didn’t shake her out of it.”

“I’m sure a lot of people were scaired.

“Yeah. They were. When I look into the eyes of that adult man I hear that woman screaming. It scaires me, to death really. I don’t like it.”

“Did you ever talk to anyone about it?”

Denver cracked a broken smile. “I am now. Honestly, it didn’t bother me that much at the time. Maybe a little more as time went on, but I always trusted my father to take care of everything. Alex has a point too. It’s time for a field trip Sara, but we can wait a little while, I have a few calls to make.”

The town of ShallowHills was a wooded cluster of large, older homes gently dipping and rising through pockets of lush trees and open spaces. The winds of change had begun to blow and the area would soon be revealing it’s true visual splendor. Many years ago, ShallowHills merged with an adjoining town and was formed Gale’s ShallowHills. The area boned into a secret hideaway for rich bankers, moguls and other socialites. Business in fact because so good that many of the residents began renting out their whole entire properties to individuals and groups. There was money all over the place. Three casinos had been built. There were bars, private clubs and double private clubs.

The Great Depression changed a lot of things. Suddenly, the people stopped. A lot, never came back. By the time it hit, many residents had permanently vacated. The banks were in chaos. The houses sat. People who did return did what they realistically could to maintain the vacant properties, but they suffered the ravages of time. Later on, more people returned and the town got a second life.

Cassandra Elizabeth Blakestone’s family still owned a home in ShallowHills. Lost somewhere in the mire and dust of time.

Finding the house was proving more difficult than Denver had thought. Now the gps was malfunctioning. Recalculating. Recalculating. It had no idea where they were. After a while on a long four lane road the sigh emerged. Shallow Hills. 5 miles.

Sara sighed heavily. She adjusted her curved sunglasses. “Thank god. All this strait road is starting to put me back to sleep.”

“Tell me about it. Most of my coffee hasn’t even kicked in yet.”

“Lucky for us she happened to be home.”

No, it’s not luck. I pulled her file. She hasn’t worked, ever really. She’s on state aid. She has, I think, two physiologists or what not. They probably stop in here and there, give her whatever she needs, or thinks she needs. I looked at a picture of the house. I mean it’s a big house. I’m sure its her world and way more than she needs.”

“She lives alone? Really? What is she, manic, shitzoo? Does she hear voices? I worked in a phyc. ward. Sometimes you start to think you can hear the voices.”

Denver grunted laughter. “ I really have no idea. Her medical file is sealed. We’ll have to get that. It’s after ten, I’m assuming by now she’s up, hopefully. Maybe she’ll be in the mood to talk.”

“Really going for the element of surprise we are. Do you think maybe he went home? But this really wouldn’t be his home.”

“Without calling his office? I doubt it. There it is.”

Finally, they approached the main road into the Hills. The jeep turned right and was immediately incased in the flickering shadow of thick maples. It was a long foreboding stretch, daring one not to be scaired. It was a visually entrancing scene. “I didn’t even know this place existed.” Sara said.

“Most people don’t anymore. Some of the most expensive properties in the country are hiding down here, in this tunnel of death. It’s always been quiet. There’s never been a crime in ShallowHills. Back in the day this road was probably packed with cars. All the well to do’s and want’s to get away from it all. What do those numbers say?”

Sara had a better look on the right side. “Ten-twenty through ten twenty-five.”

“Okay that’s the one we want.” Another right and they were on another, smaller shrouded road which opened up into a sloping meadow.

The sunlight blasted Sara. She shook her head.

None of the homes were visible from the two lane road. The first property they approached was on the left. It was marked with a tall wall of white rectangular stones, or giant painted bricks for the surface was not completely smooth. The barrier for some massive fortress. They passed the main gate, it’s imposing black arch and solid gate. The road behind it disappeared into the hills.

Denver was already impressed. “Wow. No one’s getting out of there alive.”

“Yeah, I’m glad that’s not the one.”

“Hell, both our cars could fit through there. What even need’s to go through there? I bet this all looks really nice in the fall. I can see why they picked this place.”

“You’re already thinking about relocating.”

“Hey we’re still inside the county line, but god no. What would I do with all that? Nothing. I bet some of these people don’t either.

They passed a couple marked open roads which disappeared into the brightening haze of day. Soon, it was upon them. They were again surrounded by trees and then they quickly released their grip to reveal a wide tall hill. Above and to the right of the sloping sentinel stood a long gray, black and brown colored wall. It’s base heavily vined and seeming to rise from the surface its self. The wall was high and menacing, but was at long last returning to the earth, having being over run by moss and vine in amazing strangling patterns. They twisted wildly in all directions. Directly behind the wall stood three angled roofs, each with a spire at its highest point. Only the window of the center room was even half visible. The road curved around and more steeply upward in its long path “Seriously? Creepiest house ever.” Sara said.

The road curved right, around the wall and a giant, elegant, weeping willow which stood just in front of it, next to the house. The house rested on a plateau overlooking a river with a waterfall and endless woods beyond it. It was a perfect and peaceful scene. The exterior of the house looked rather badly weathered, tired and old. A lot of paint was chipping and completely gone in places. The impressive two story structure loomed large dark, stripped of the colors it wore in brighter days. The front porch ran the length of the house. It had once been painted a deep crimson, but its color too had fallen away reveal a stark white on the rails and deck.

The concrete ended at the tree. Denver felt suddenly as though she were in another world, thousands of miles from home. She felt isolated and perhaps just a stitch smaller in the shadow of the houses long, sorrowful lines. There was something humbling and intimidating about it, more than brick and wood.

Denver stopped her jeep in the middle of the spacious, yet unkempt yard, several feet from the porch stairs. It was strange what years of neglect could to. The grass was short and dead looking, brown mixed with some green. It looked trodden and was awash with twigs and pieces of vine. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

“Creepiest, most abandoned looking house ever. It even looks haunted.”

The jeep came to a crunching halt. Denver removed her belt. She looked at Sara. “Now listen, I don’t know what kind of mood Cassandra might be in. Maybe if we try and keep things she will let us have a look around.”

“Sure. You go ahead. Knock yourself out. I’m not going in there.” As Sara carried on, she noticed someone coming through the screen door . She saw the outline of a thin pale woman in a light brown dress. Her hair was long and brown, somewhat curly and wind tattered. She made her way cautiously down the stairs to the ground, holding a small plastic tray with a glass pitcher of some dark liquid and two glasses. She completely ignored the jeep and went off to the right, toward a simple bench swing hanging just under the willow. “Sara followed her movement closely. “Wow. Well maybe we’re not really here. That makes sense. It’s already been one of those days.”

Denver was trying to get a better view through the rear window. She saw the woman walk up into the shadows. She sat and remained motionless. “What is she doing?”

“Nothing. Sitting there. Are you sure she didn’t know we were coming? She made tea and everything.”

“Sara knock it off. Come on. Let’s go.”

Denver exited the jeep. Sara came around. She leaned against the hood. They stared at the woman and the house. The wind had begun to pick up. “Just stay here.” She motioned at Sara and she was perfectly willing to ablidge. Denver headed across the lawn. Pushed along by a stiffening breeze. She reached Cassandra. She’d taken the glass, but not pourn. She just sat there, clutching the glass, staring down at the ground, past the ground. The wind wiped hair in her face, but she seemed unfazed. She wore a fading orange and brown sundress and was barefoot. She looked very much a child to Denver, frozen forever in a time before when things were right. Denver removed her glasses. She looked around and back at the woman. She was unmoving, hardly blinking. “Cassandra it’s Sherriff Charity. Do you remember me? I know it’s been a while since I’ve been around. God, I can’t even remember when the last time was.”

More silence passed between them.

She stepped closer. “Cassandra, do you mind if I sit down?” She Sat. Alright, we’re movin’ right along. She looked at the tray and back at the woman. Here, let me pour you some okay?” She took the pitcher and filled her glass some ways full. The gesture produced no response. “Cassandra listen, I know you’re been through a lot. I just have a couple questions for you and them we will go. How does that sound?” Cassandra?”

Finally, the woman spoke. But an echo of a whisper. “You missed it.”

Her words escaped Denver and carried off into the wind. “What was that Cassandra?”

Another long pause. “You missed it.”

“I missed it. What Cassandra. What did I miss?”

“We had a party. Everyone was here I-I don’t know how you missed it.”

Denver looked around a little again. She eyed Sara. “You had a party? Here” When was this? I certainly never heard anything about that. I’m a little disappointed Cassandra.”

The woman would not look up. She sipped slowly from the glass. Once and then again. Denver sighed. There just wasn’t going to be a fast way of doing this. She looked up at the sad, old beautiful house. She pulled her cell out slowly, careful not to startle the woman. She shot Sara a text. LOOK AROUND. Sara rolled her eyes.

Denver turned her attention back to the woman. “Cassandra, can you hear me.”

“Sometimes.” The woman said, after another extended pause.

“Well sometimes is better than never, right? Cassandra can you look up at me? She reached over and placed a comforting hand on her right shoulder. Even through her black leather driving gloves, Denver could feel the woman’s cold. The day was rather nice and plenty warm. Perhaps she just needed to get out a little more.

“Why?”

The question came first as another dull whisper Denver could scarcely make out. As she was formulating her reply Cassandra blurted the question louder and more aggressively.”

“Why!”

Denver leaned in closer, endeavoring to make some sense of what the woman was saying. “Why what?”

The woman snapped to her feet. Faster than Denver could possibly have imagined. In a blink she was up and raised the glass, expelling the tea. This caused Denver to reach instinctively for her collapsible prod. Was she really going to have to beat the crazy lady down?

“You let them die! I know!” Cassandra smashed the glass down between them. She burned a glare into Denver. Her eyes, narrow and bloodshot. There was a rage there, something keeping her going.

Charity slipped the weapon back into its pouch. She extended her right hand, slowly. She needed to reestablish some boundaries. Now there was glass all over the place and Cassandra was barefoot. Perfect. Now everything is great. “Cassandra it is okay. Just relax. Everything is fine. Can you come back here and sit down? Can you do that? Look. See the glass? That’s it. Come around. That’s better. Just sit there.”

The woman fumbled for words. They came and went. She spoke what she could hold onto. “I’m sorry. They’re all gone now. I mean, no one comes here. I like it. Sometimes, they bring me things. Things I like.” She looked away, then down again.

“Cassandra, I need to ask you about your son.” Denver paused. Did that even sink in? The woman did not respond. “Can you tell me your sons name? You remember your son.”

“My son. Alan. I know him. You think I am completely a stupid.”

“No I-“

“Well I’m not! I am not and I do have a son!”

“When was the last time you saw him? Has he been here at all recently? Has he called?”

Another long, thought provoking pause. “No one calls. Hey, you know, they found my boy? They did you know. I was something.”

“Yes, I know that. I remember.

“�"because, they took him. But he came back, right?”

“Yes he did. That’s exactly right. The thing is Cassandra, Alan, your son, he’s come up missing again.”

“No.”

“Well he is. He’s been out of touch for close to three days now. Are you sure you have no idea where your son is? He isn’t here somewhere in this huge house of yours? Good lord.” She saw Sara emerge from the far end of the house. Obviously there was nothing going on. She made her way back to the jeep. A slow weight of silence crept across the property. The crisp, steady breeze carried a faint sound of splashing water. Denver turned her attention back to the woman. “Cassandra I need you to be as clear with me as you can. Have you seen your son?” Was she thinking hard? Was she trying? Did she care at all on way or the other?

“No.”

“Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Alan? Maybe an angry patient or something?”

“No one comes here. Sometimes people do. This is a big job. I really don’t want it, but I do like it here. I know you do too.”

The view was nice, but the house was in total disarray. “You do have a very nice house Cassandra and I would just love to-“

The shattering of glass stopped Denver cold. It had come from inside. She bolted up, one eye on the woman, the other on the house. All the windows were draped with solid white cloth. She touched her c.b. “You hear that?”

“Yup. Unfortunately.”

She looked down at the ghost of Cassandra Blakestone. “I thought you said you were alone. Isn’t that what you told me?”

The woman remained motionless. She stared blankly at the shards of glass. “Sometimes they come.”

“Sometimes they come, right. Are they here now Cassandra?” She spoke again to Sara. “open your holster.”

“Gee-wizz.”

Denver sat back down, slowly. She stared intently at the woman. “It’s not a very good idea to lie to the police Mrs. Blakestone. I don’t very much like it myself, but I want to be your friend. You know that, right? You know I am your friend.”

“I guess so.”

“Where is Alan?”

“I don’t know!” Now Cassandra was highly agitated.

Maybe, Denver thought, it was time for a break.

Sara stood frozen in place back near the jeep. She was looking through the screen door. Past the darkness she could make out a dimly lit dining table. She was nervous, trying not to be. Please don’t make me do this. Please don’t make me do this! “You know what I want you to do right?” came Denver’s voice over her radio. “Yes, but not really.”

“Just get.”

“He’s not even here.”

“Cassandra, is it okay if my deputy has a quick look inside? We’ve come all this way. I’d just like to be really sure no one is here.”

“I already told you, no one is here now, but I guess you can if you want. I remember that jeep.”

They took my baby!

Sara paused at the screen. She removed her sunglasses. Now there was no hiding. She turned the handle down. It creaked incessantly. Cold mechanism clanked as she pulled the door open and peered inside. The foyer area was a large open space with a second floor balcony over the main hall ahead. To the right, a wide staircase and a doorway to its right. Off to the left, another shadowy enterence. Four directions for her to go.

“See anything?”

“No. Man, this place is huge. There’s dust everywhere, and webs. It smells bad. It looks abandoned.”

“I know what I heard. Just have a looksie’.”

“Yeah. No problem.”

Even Sara’s tentative steps across the long, wide floor boards of the antique house produced echoing creaks which reverberated throughout and through her. She felt suddenly heavy. She started to imagine things in the shadows and they were trying to come to life, things even a revolver couldn’t take down. She crept forward, each boot step dividing and dividing. She stopped again, closer to the balcony. Everything was gray. The air tasted like paper. The drapes were heavy. What rays of sunlight penetrated were displaced and woefully insufficient to and the house was bathed in pale, hazy green glow.

Sara produced her flashlight, a medium size black Mag. The strong bluish beam sparkled in the sea of dust. The shadows seemed only to grow, attacking the spotlight. She moved it around. Nothing. She continued on, under the overlook and down the long hall lined with many photos. Even the walls groaned as she passed. She slowed her pace, whipping the light back and forth. Now the paranoia was setting it. The harder she fought the more she succumbed to its feverish, icy grip. She reached the dining table. It was lit from above by an old flameless candle chandelier. It was covered in dusty web. “First floor seems quiet. It’s really dark.”

“Any glass?”

“None that I see.”

A sound over the speaker startled Denver. “Sara?”

Nothing

Denver abruptly stood. She gritted her teeth, smiling through her displeasure. She unbuttoned her right holster and removed the six shooter in one quick move. “Cassandra I need you to stay here. Can you do that for me?” As she approached the porch steps, Sara blared back to her.

“It’s nothing. I’m alright. This place seems almost alive. Sounds come from nowhere. Wait a minute.” Sara was staring up at the ceiling, her right hand resting on her glock. She tried to stand just perfectly still.

“Sara.”

“Shhhh.” Sara whispered into the mic. “I think there’s someone upstairs.” She looked around. Aside from the hall there were two exits from the dining room. She could see the beginnings of a kitchen through the doorway to the right and another and more dark to the left. She glanced back up. “Hello!”

Denver called to the woman. “Cassandra who is up stairs? We’re not here to cause you any trouble. I just want to talk to your son.” She stepped closer to the stairs.

The woman finally looked up. “I think it’s time I should be getting in.”

“No Cassandra!” The woman stood anyways. Now Denver was becoming agitated. She wanted to cuff her, but resisted. She called out. “Alan Blakestone this is the -------- County Sheriffs Department! We just want to ask you a couple of questions!”

A sharp weezing of wood shattered the silence and what remained of Sara’s nerves. Her glock flipped up. She spoke in a gasp. “Definitely, someone upstairs.”

“I’m at the door. Relax. See me here?”

Sara cast an eye down the hall. She could see Denver, but only in silhouette. She replied, but in a whisper. “Yeah. I see you.”

“Good. Keep your eyes on me. Denver slipped inside, endeavoring to keep the frail door as quiet as possible. She pointed her light in all directions. “Just stay there. I’m going to have a look around.”

“Copy that.”

The walkway to the left revealed a large, ornately carpeted living room featuring a long unused fireplace made of heavy-looking gray stones. It perhaps explained some of the odor of the place. Dank and unmoving. Stuffy and burnt. Flue probably hadn’t been cleaned properly in years. The room was sparsely furnished. Through shards of light, Denver could see the dust covering books on shelves. An old, non working grandfather clock stood in its forgotten guard, locked in eternity, face pale and speckled. She spotlighted two inky black spiders as they raced buy across the ceiling. Denver creaked her way back into the foyer. She gave Sara a thumbs up and pointed forward toward the room to the left of the main door. She continued on into the adjoining room, wrists locked, gun pointed ready. It was an office, or what looked like it could have once been one. There was an old fashioned looking desk with a curved, fold down cover along the wall to the far right and numerous metal file cabinets lined the room. There were a number of cardboard boxes on the floor, some strun about and there were papers and folders lying about. She found a light switch, but it did nothing. “There’s nothing here. Lets check up stairs. I want to get this done before Cassandra decides to come in. We’re making enough noise as at is.”

They met at the foot of the two-set staircase. Denver went first, with Sara close behind. Disembodied footfalls pinpricked at them as they ascended. At the top of the first flight stood an immaculate sculpture of the Arc Angle Gabriel, poised in the midst of his greatest battle, his face haunting and void. His wings were wide and long. They curved downward sharply over his broad shoulders. He was dressed in a thin flowing gown and yielded a long spear with a shiny gold tip. His endless stare burned into Denver. She felt his rage. She became transfixed by the vision of his greatness.

Sara was at her side. Denver motioned she wanted to stay just right here for a moment. Keep things absolutely still. Quiet. They listened to the house. There were sounds, but they could be coming from anywhere. Farther up and across it was darker. Denver didn’t like it and she liked less this hollow woman tending to herself in the shadows. Does she think she’s a vampire. Hate the light!

Denver rested a boot on the first step of the second flight. “Doctor Alan Blakestone! Sheriffs department!”

“There’s no one here.” Sara whispered.

A groaning crack chilled them.

Denver whipped her revolver back up and beamed her light toward the head of the stairs. There was nothing, but even with their combined beams it was difficult to see. She switched the frequency on her radio. “Control, its Charity, how do you read?”

“Loud and clear. Go ahead, over.”

“Start me a unit. Thirty miles east off Procter. We’re in ShallowHills. Last house. Over.”

“Copy that. I have your coordinates. Studs in route. Over.”

“Over and out.

For a moment, finally, Sara could feel a measure of relief, little as it was. Maybe now she could get out of this dusty spook house. She was afraid to do anything but whisper. “Great. Can we get out of here now?”

Denver shook her head. She nodded toward the stairs. They ascended together. The second floor balcony area and hall beyond were carpeted a thick, rich red, which had faded but still held a strong contrast to the palee forgotten walls of the house. Even the ghosts had long gone.

“Sometimes they come.”

Their beams penetrated the shadows in the hall revealing five doors, three on the right and two on the left. They were all closed. There was no light, save that which emanated from sun windows above on the wall behind the balcony.

Denver glanced over her shoulder. “We’ll just-do one at a time.”

“Right.”

The first door on the right opened silently, remarkably. The only piece of wood in the house that didn’t make a sound. The room was spacious and completely empty There were no curtains and light shone brightly over the wall. The walls and ceiling were finished and painted bright yellow, but the floorboards were visible. Denver left the door open. She motioned to the first door on the left.

A course scratching sound grabbed at them. Denver exhaled sharply. She extended her revolver toward the door. Boards creaked, followed by scuffling sound. “Alan!” Denver called.

Sara jumped again. Now she was afraid of everything. Gun, no gun, it didn’t matter. What the hell is wrong with you? Get a grip! She stepped slightly ahead of Denver. She spied farther down the hall. There was nothing.

Denver eyed her deputy. She mouthed a single word. She positioned herself against the wall to the left of the door and turned the know with her left hand. It turned freely. She let go and simultaneously kicked the door with her left heel.

Sara resisted the urge to immediately start shooting.

“Well?”

“I see a book shelf and a bed. More dust. No movement.” Sara lowered her weapon as Denver stepped stepped into the doorway. She eyeballed the bedroom. It was a full-size room with a large closet on the far wall with a silted, wood panel sliding door. There was door to the far right, probably a bathroom. She glanced back at Sara. “Watch those doors.”

Denver vanished into the darkened windowless room. The floor creaked with her. Sara decided enough was enough. She spun around and went to the second right side door. What are you thinking!”

The closet was full of men’s cloths. Jeans, overalls, black shirts. They looked new, not part of the houses frozen in time collection. The shelf above held several unmarked cardboard boxes. “Cassandra you never mentioned you had a boyfriend. Is he a vampire too?” Two steps toward the inner door there was a scream. It nearly knocked Denver off her feet. She heard Sara curse. She ran back into the hall. Sara was leaning sheepishly against the door frame trying to control her breathing. “What is it!”

“Damn mice!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m actually not. There’s two of them. They went that way. B******s ran right over me. Lucky I didn’t splatter em’. Scaired me half to-“

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“It’s really not a secret.”

What’s going on in there?”

“It’s a library. A pretty big one. Dusty. Really dusty. Who reads this many books?”

“Some people like to read.”

“I own ten books.”

“Uh hu. See what some are about. See what some are about. I’m going back in here to check this other door.”

“You want me to start educating myself in some ladies creepy old house.”

The bathroom was unoccupied and soon Denver was back in the hall. She shined her light into the library as she walked by. “Come-on, let’s finish this. Backup will be here soon.”

At the second door on the left, Denver gave a knock. She hadn’t heard any noises, but she was getting used to the moaning and groaning of the house and wasn’t sure what she was hearing or not anymore. There was no response. She tried the knob. Locked. No warrant, no kicking. “Sara, pick this lock. I’ll try the last door.”

“Heard that.”

The remaining door was heavy and stiff and creaked unyieldingly through the dust it pushed aside. More darkness. The window must be completely covered. The floor of the room was strait finished wood, its dark varnish was faded and chipped. She could feel, even in the doorway, a cold. It taunted at the edges of her strait blond hair. She forced herself to take two steps forward. She could see the window. It was draped tightly. It was another large room with a fireplace on the far left wall Against the wall just to the left of the doorway was a large, ornately carved wood vanity with an intimidating, wide swinging oval. Items on the desk were what one would expect, but it was still strange to Denver. She tried to straiten the mirror, but it would not stay.

“Boss.” Sara’s voice crackled over the mic.

“Yeah.”

“It’s open. You need to have a look at this.”

Denver approached the entrance. Her beam met Sara’s inside the room. She peered farther inside. The walls were lined with wooden shelves containing one liter corked glass jugs, three rows deep. They contained a dark red liquid. “What the hell is this? You know what, I’ve seen enough. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah. I like that idea.”

At once, they were down the stairs. Denver was out the door first. The wind hit her hard. She took a deep refreshing breath and it felt amazing to clear her system of dust. Now the sun was very bright and her eyes were stubborn to adjust.

“Oh no,” Sara groaned. “crazy lady’s gone.”

Denver whipped her head to the left. Now she was developing a splitting headache. The tree, the swing, the tray, no Cassandra. She ran down the stairs, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She glared around, looking past the jeep.

Sara glanced back. “Maybe she’s inside.”

“I told her specifically to stay put. Denver walked a few feet past the front of the jeep. She put her hands on her hips. She looked out at the beautiful landscape. The waterfall. The trees farther out. The river. The river! Denver would never fully understand what pushed her and made her run down there that morning. What put her into that gear with such a fervor. The responding officers who arrived just as she ran down the hill would say she ran like lighting. She ran so fast they were scaird.

Denver was down the hill and into the reeds and weeds of the plain. She ran with abandon. “Nooooooo!”

The current had Cassandra and she was floating face down, locked in the rivers icy grip. The ground along its edge was marshy and the reeds grew thicker, negating Denver’s desire to jump even though she’d caught up to the woman. Finally she splashed into water. She power stroked into the current. It helped her, pushing her along uncontrollably. She crashed into Cassandra. She gasped for air as she grabbed her waist and tried to turn her over. The river pulled them on. Denver gripped her tightly, unable to stop the progress. She drifted. She tried cpr, but it was difficult and she fought to stay afloat herself. She was tired, but refused to go down.

“Denver!”

All was dark………………..

CHAPTER 6

DOCTOR TARR AND PROFESSOR FEATHER

******

Somewhere, a phone rang. There was talking and yelling. A door closed and again and again. Music and more ringing. There came a sound of rushing wind. It covered over the darkness and turned it bright white. The white became hot. Flame burned through the white, revealing a rushing, wilding churning river. It was never ending. It ran forever and ever. There came a glint of hot light, deep into the horizon. It cut the river in half. It grew and grew. It enveloped the river and it was no more. Nothing but a hazy orange glow.

Denver opened her eyes. Raising her eyelids took effort. She found herself in a seated position in a bed she did not recognize. “I’m in a hospital. Well that’s a bonus.” She closed her eyes, beginning the mental checklist. Everything seemed to work, however she was stiff and felt weak and drained. Her throat was terribly sore. Her head felt as though it were floating in place and would stay even if she laid down. Her mind was a wondering mishmash. They’d give her something. There was a soft strap across her waist, but it was not tight. She’d been dressed in a loose fitting, blue and white gown. Her long hair hung loosely over her shoulders. “How long have I been here?” She spoke the words aloud to test her speech. Raspy and broken. She opened and closed her eyes again and again, trying to shake the fog. She took a deep breath. Even that hurt. “Damn girl.”

After a short time, Dale came in. He at the corner of the bed and rested his left hand gently on her knee which was bent up under the sheet. “Two damn days! That’s how long and how worried just sick I’ve been.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. Jesus. What the hell were you thinking.

“I was thinking I could save her. That’s my job.”

“Well you could both have drowned.”

“Cassandra?”

“Nope.”

Denver gritted her teeth and blinked hard. The cold, relentless churning refused to leave her. She wanted to cry. She could see her now, pale eyes, letting go. “Damn.”

“Any chance you wanna’ tell me what in the hell you were doing over there in the Hills? Don’t say fishing.”

“Missing persons.”

“Ah. Well, was it her?”

Denver rolled her eyes and nearly closed them. “No. It’s her son, but he wasn’t there, at lest-“ Her words trailed off. She stared out the window to her right.

“Den, what is it?”

She turned her head slowly back to him. “I don’t know about this one Dale. Something is wrong now Cassandra is dead. I can’t help but think she might still be alive if I’d just stayed put. She was most even headed person in the world. She might have known something. I don’t know. It’s not important anymore I guess.”

“She was suicidal and jumped in the river, probably couldn’t swim. She didn’t suffer, not much anyway and none of it is your fault. Jesus you can’t even swim and you dove right in there after her. Unbelievable!”

Denver hazarded a smile. “I can swim now thank-you.”

Dale gave her knee a quick firm squeeze. “No, you can’t”

“Look, this is a touching lecture, but I have a job to do. Are you going to get me out of this mess or do I have to do it myself?”

Dale exhaled loudly. He shook his head. “You’re staying right here till I get the doctor.” He rose and stepped toward the door. “He says there’s nothing wrong with head, but I don’t know.” He disappeared into the hall.

Denver managed to remove the bed strap. “Free at last!” She pulled the sheets away and slid her socked feet down to the chilly, tiled floor. Her back was dreadfully stiff, adding to her list of complaints for the doctor. She found her uniform in the closet. Her badge and guns were on the shelf above. She took it al into the bathroom. She closed the door hard and locked it. There was a small shower. Hot water. Far from home.

Cassandra’s house was less than five miles from the hospital. She sped. She’d asked Sara to meet her there. She could tell Sara was less than enthused, as she’d been organizing the further investigation from the station. Denver needed to go back. She couldn’t get the woman’s face out of her head.”

The end of September was windy and the leaves had added a bit of color. Gusts of wild wind folded the northern plains in upon its self over and over again. They grabbed at the jeep, giving it a shake from time to time. The four lane road was largely empty. She continued to push on the accelerator. At the wooded entrance sat a state trooper car facing her. Its lights were going and it was unoccupied. She remembered how much she’d enjoyed driving through here, the sparkling beauty. Now she was at the end of a long, lonely funeral line. She felt small. Farther down the road, out of the tunnel of death sat another state vehicle in front of one of the later property entrances. A comforting sign yes, but maybe a measure of overkill on Sara’s part. What was she guarding?

Again there was the wall. Did she want to know what was behind it? Around the corner and past the tree, Denver came up on two more officers cars. They were parked side by side. Sara’s cruiser was behind the one on the right. “That’s good. Sara’s handling it. Thank god for her.” But something was off. Why so much traffic? Sara wouldn’t have brought all this with her just today. She parked off to the left of the group, closer to the tree. She looked out into the shadows, at the swing. It rocked lightly in the stiff breeze. One glass and the tray were still there. She noticed the pitcher as not. Looking to the deck, she noticed two troopers in oversized, green coats. One was pacing, while the other extended a rectangle shaped, overhead lamp.

Denver exited the jeep. She went to the swing. She saw a few pieces of glass, small.

“Hey boss!” The nearer trooper called down.

Denver lifted her right arm. She couldn’t get it quite all the way up under her thick, black leather jacket, but she cleared the rail. She made her way to the steps. And met the gentlemen at the door. “Dale. Jeff. How’s it goin’? What’s with the light?”

They both just stared at her, hung for words. They were tense and guarded. Jeff’s eyes were especially wide, he seemed to be forcing himself to blink.

“Guys, what’s going on? Jeff you look like you saw a ghost, or got caught cheating on your wife in the bar again. It’s one or the damn other.”

“No-no boss. It’s nothing like that its-something else. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“How do I look?”

“Great!”

“Terrific. Now spill it.”

Jeff, riot gun in a sheath on his back, stepped past Denver to the rail.

Denver eyed him narrowly.

“It’s the jugs.” Dale blurted all at once.

She nodded. “Yeah. Tomato sause.”

“Nope. Blood.”

“She has a recluse boyfriend. He’s a hunter. Stockpiles blood for bait.”

“No it’s human.”

“S**t.” Denver sighed heavily and scratched her head. “S**t.”

Dale nodded. “Yeah, that’s about what we’ve been saying. Get’s weirder than that. Ready for this? Cassandra Blakestone hasn’t lived here in close to three damn years. No one’s been here, not even god. The electricity was left on somehow. I’m amazed the place hasn’t blown up. That’s all it has going for it. It’s got a lot of potential but-“

“Right-right, real fixer-upper. Just to make sure I’m not completely crazy, the woman actually was here. Right?”

Yes. We just don’t have any idea how she got here.

“Where has she been all this time?”

“Turtledove. It’s a medium security institution there in Orange. Believe me, they’re as confused as we are, probably more so.”

“OrangeBlume, yeah. Clear across the state practically. There’s no way she got here alone. She certainly didn’t walk and I don’t see someone on her condition hitchhiking this far. You’ve got to be kidding me. I almost rather u tell me I made the whole thing up.”

“Don’t worry. We have people there. We’ll find Alan, sooner or later.” Sara said, as she stepped out the screen door. She smiled at Denver. “How are you doing?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that, I’m starting to feel like somethin’s wrong. I’m good.

“Really?”

More standing lights had been brought inside. Now the true age and breath of the houses neglect could be seen. There were lamps and wall lights around, but most of them did not work. Some were on now. The pair ascended to the second floor. A swath of greenish white light emanated from the middle room, eerie and mysterious. Sara stopped at the door. “Watch your step. There’s a trap door in the floor. It’s open. We’ve been down. I didn’t put any light down there.

Denver stepped cautiously inside, flashlight in hand. Three deep all the way around. “Jesus.” The floor was unfinished and the door was indeed open at her feet. A rickety staircase descended into the void. “What’s down there?”

“More of the same. Lots more. Close to four hundred in all. There’s some larger ones down there as well. All full. It’s blood and it’s human. Makes me sick. What the hell was going on here? Why would Cassandra be here?”

“This is too much.” Denver went back into the hall. “Give me cause of death.”

“Cassandra? She drown. There was enough water in her lungs to fill your cup a few times. Sorry boss.”

Denver sighed hard. She felt tired and she was frustrated. “It’s fine. Do you have the report? Yeah, it’s in my car. We noticed the cloths and things in the other room. Everything’s being tested and cross referenced. Another day or two on that. We’re working on interviewing the sanitarium staff and whatever we can get out of its tenants, but it’s a fairly large facility. It’s just going to take time. The manager is cooperating.”

“What about the blood. It tested human, but this is-“

“Too much. Yeah, I know. The five samples we took came back five different ways. What is this Denver?”

“Somebody’s sick collection. Have you spoken to Alex. He needs to know about this.”

“He knows. The hospital supplied him with samples of Alan’s dna for comparison, but honestly Denver testing all of this is going to take weeks.

“Time Alan might not have. Damn-it! S**t! I knew something was wrong. Cassandra.”

“But why-I mean-if she really was here against her will, or wasn’t comfortable here why wouldn’t she tell you? No one had a gun to her head. There was no one even here! I mean, she looked perfectly comfortable, like she’d always been here. It doesn’t make any sense and Turtledove is far away. I’ve never even been to Deckers, or heard of it for that matter. I guess she could have gotten a ride, or something.”

Denver was frowning. She didn’t like being messed with and she felt like that was exactly what was going on. “The database has her still here, in this house.”

“Obviously it’s wrong.”

“Obviously.” Denver’s eyes widened slightly. “Someone else has been here and they’ve been busy. Four-hundred people. Damn.”

“Now wait, we don’t know-“

“I want a warrant out on Alan. Make it state wide.”

“Already done. You want the F.B.I.?”

“Yes. I’ll handle that. That’s something can do. It look’s like you’ve taken care of everything else. Sara, thank-you.”

“No worried boss. I’m just glad you’re back on your feet.”

“I need to work on my back stroke a little, I guess.” Denver managed a smile. It was reluctant, but it helped. I have to give Alex a call at some point. He knows to be careful. Alan is a doctor. Maybe this is some bizarre hobby of his. He knows all about-blood. You checked the whole house? Is there anything else?”

“We walked every creaky, creepy inch of it. The down stairs is mostly a cluttered mess of old furniture and boxes . There’s papers and documents in some of them, but again that’s more time. But nothing any stranger than all this, thank god.

Denver nodded. “Alright.”

“Can we go now?” Sara asked through a cough. “This is seriously starting to creep me out. Ben’s been accusing me of smoking again. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about a semi-stiff drink myself, but I don’t think my throat could take it right now. I know I look better than I sound.”

“Yeah and don’t worry, I’m buying.”

As they stepped back out onto the deck, Sara’s phone rang. She handed it to Denver. “It’s Donald. He said he’d have some follow up.”

Denver took the phone. “Yes Don, this is Sheriff Charity. How are you?

“Pretty well. Yourself?”

“Oh you know, I’ll survive. What do you have?”

“Well Cassandra’s tox just came in and it’s all over the place. It’s almost unreadable. A mishmash of uppers and downers. It’s amazing she was even conscious.”

“Cause of death?”

“Cause of death is drowning, per my preliminary report, however I’m not 100% sure that’s what killed her. There are a number of cuts on the left side of her face, but the wounds are washed out. It could have been from something in the water, branches or whatever else. No one has come to claim her yet. I keep trying this Turtledove place, but no one can give me a strait answer.”

“I know Don, we’re trying to get it worked out. Worse comes to worse I’ll come down and do it myself. Let me get back to you. Thanks Don.” Denver ended the call. Now she was standing again at the edge of the hill. She stared down past the waterfall. “Damn!”

ORANGEBLUME

Alex finished reading Denver’s email. He couldn’t believe it. Suspicion of foul play. Not matters were more serious. He’d spoken to most of the hospital staff, just a few loose ends to tie up. No one stood out really and there were no answers. How does someone everybody knows just vanish of the face of the earth? But again it happens all the time. Everyday. His visit to Alan’s girlfriends had revealed little. She was upset and angry. He was completely convinced she didn’t have him stuffed in a closet somewhere, or tied down in the basement, but he looked because you just never know. Friends, neighbors, ex’s, nothing.

He found Alan’s car right where he’d parked it in the nearby structure. First floor. The F.B.I. were all over that. By all accounts, Alan Blakestone was a fairly popular, stand up guy. No felonies, no drugs, no enemies. Well maybe almost. There was the lingering issue of Alan’s previous disappearance and all the uncertainty and mystery surrounding that case. How could they be connected? Could they be? Alex had been confident the occurrences were unrelated when he’d left, but now he was beginning to feel some of Denver’s unease. “All the blood. Human blood! Who does that? It’s just bad, worse that the best potential witness is dead.

Alex set his lap top to the side on the comfortable motel bed, his thighs were warm even through the beige kakis he wore. Around him on both sides were his notes, photos he’d taken, photos of the scene in ShallowHills. His cell was somewhere, in a pile, under something. He rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. He was tired of running around in circles, but the trail was pretty cold. The longer he sat here and pouted the worse it might be getting for Alan. There was no place even to start. No one saw this guy.

Alex finished a can of beer and slid over his work and off the bed. The room featured a full kitchen. He went to the fridge and pulled a can from the box. He was tired. This was day three. The main window of opportunity had passed. He was tired of driving and walking and talking. He popped the tab and took a long swallow. He started to meditate frig’s cool glow.

There was a hard knock at the door.

“F**k!”

It was getting close to eight o clock and the sun was fading fast. Bending rays of light and shadow stretched long and hard across the room, up to him. First the sun would blind him then all would seem dark in shadow. There was dead quiet. Alex stiffened, slowly, tense beyond all imagine. He could see the door past the bed. He blinked hard again, the sun catching his eye. He really couldn’t see s**t. He looked again. Now the silhouette of a person stood outside the thinly draped window. Beads of sweat crept across his forehead and several drops fell against his cheek. Fear raced across his spin, but he remained perfectly still. He was almost certain the figure couldn’t see him, or at lest not very clearly. A faceless shadow come to greet him.

Eyes trained on the door, Alex slowly upended the can into the sink and set it down. He bent low and made his way to the nightstand where his gun was in the drawer behind a bible. He fished it out, removed it from its holster and pointed it out at the window almost in one continuous motion, almost daring the shadow to shot before he could do it, but when Alex looked back up the shadow was gone. He went immediately behind the thicker, outer drape, raising his weapon close to his face as he peaked around. He saw no one standing around. He stared at the door locks. Looked secure. When he looked down he noticed a small portion of he assumed was en envelop of some kind, stuffed under the door. “That’s great. We are playing games.” With the barrel edge of his 9mm Alex slid the chain lock away from him. He poked at it and it dropped free with a slight ping. Then the lock. He turned it calmly and slow. He poked the gun out. He peaked out. Seeing no one he opened the door wider. The manila envelop was thicker than he’d even thought it could be. He looked hard all around and could see he was alone.

The motel was a long l not far from the expressway and just a few miles from the city. There was a pool and a tennis court and another yard game, but the weather was turning colder and all the fun was sucking out of things. Alex was afraid to pick up the envelop, but he knew he had to. Now he felt trapped. He wanted to kick it over the fence into the pool. He was being watched. Probably had been the whole time. “But there was no one! You’ve done everything by the book. Don’t worry about it. If someone was here to kill you you’d know it by now.”

The envelop was crinkled and looked and felt old. Alex took it in, closed the door hard and double locked it. He shut the blinds. The lights in the room were grossly insufficient. Everything was bathed in a clammy orange glow. He dropped the envelop on the bed on top of a pile of papers. It was unmarked. “Damn-it Denver what did you get me into now?” He used a small knife to unseal the parcel. He collapsed it and tucked it away. He looked inside. He pulled out a small pile of glossy 8 by 10 photos. All the highlights of his visit thus far to OrangeBlume. The last photo was of his black Lincoln parked outside. He tossed the images on the bed.

The second item was a regular file folder held closed with a rubber band. Alex pulled the loop off and flipped it open. “Holy f*****g s**t. Cassandra. “ It was her complete medical file. Copied mostly, with some other papers and writings. He read several pages and then a few more. There was a history of mental illness. Paranoia, schizophrenia, bi-polar. There were lots of doctors. Transcripts of several interviews of her at different times during her stay at Turtledove. He found one of Alan. Then Alan became a doctor. He was expressing a deeper interest in his mothers mental care. There was conflict. Notes about disagreements between Alan and the sanitarium. “The good doctor was making ripples in the water and trying to help his detached mother, but you couldn’t be there for her like you needed to. You didn’t trust them. I’m beginning to see why. Only so many people could have access to this information.” This was no game. The next item he retrieved from the envelop was an sd card which was inserted into a mini usb hub. “You know I have a computer. Have you been here?”

Reluctantly, Alex sat down and retrieved his laptop. He slipped the plug into its side. It was an audio file. He clicked play. Lots of static, then a long slow groaning voice.

“Go away, now!”

“Go away, now!”

“Go away, now!”

Go away, now!”

On and on it repeated, trailing off into phantom echoes.

Alex slept with his gun under his pillow. He knew it was unsafe. He didn’t care.

A shuttle buss stopped at the motel several times a day. Alex caught the noon run. He would spend one more day in the city, then return. He missed his wife and children badly. He was being warned and delved deeper into the moment at the same time. What was the purpose of giving him Cassandra’s file, Aside from the connection to her again missing son. Someone inside the institution. Someone with access. The manager? Devlin Strawver. Stiff, hard nosed, dagger eyed, but he could be hiding something. Alex has encountered many characters in his many years of investigative work. Many faces. Many stories. Many liars. Lying is in our dna. It’s one of the things human beings do best. Alex got off two stops short. He’d discovered a quaint ramen noodle stand that was attracting lots of business and he made another stop.

TURTLEDOVE

“Ah, Detective _______. I thought our business was mostly settled, but again I am obliged to assuage you of any lingering concerns.”Devlin’s s’s hung in the air, the words of a long seasoned viper. Ready. Ready for anything. He just finished his decent from the wide, winding main stairway and immediately eyed Alex through deep, thick, rimmed spectacles.

“Yes doctor, there are some lingering concerns. I have some new information and I’m starting to get the feeling that you might not be telling me everything. How often do patience of yours have access to the outside? I have your visitor records, but who gets to leave?”

Devlin stiffened ever farther. Now he was almost as tall as Alex. “No one leaves this place detective _______. As I have already said we are a medium security facility, you see the bars on those doors and all the thick glass. I feel very very safe here-and I trust my people. You look like a man who lacks trust, but I suppose it’s the work. What is it I can do for you.”

“Surveillance tapes and all logs. I want everything.”

“That will, take time. You see how busy I am. This is a very sensitive facility.”

“You didn’t tell me about your dealings with Alan Blakestone. Cassandra’s son? He didn’t trust you. Any reason not to?”

“None I can think of. I have nothing but the deepest of sympathies for the Blakestone family. This is, a most tragic turn of events. Believe it or not detective Cassandra was more than happy here and with respect, Alan Blakestone is a physician of the physical not the mental.

Devlin cracked an unenthused smile. “Is, was, who really knows? I have no idea what has become of your precious missing doctor and to the best of my knowledge Cassandra Blakestone has never left this facility since being admitted nearly three years ago now. Do you think I have not spoken to my own people on this matter mister? Well I have.”

“The tapes, Mr. Strawver. Please.”

“Tapes and files, yes. I’ve come all the way down here to start my morning walkthrough, now I must go all the way back up to my office and service you. Of course I am more than happy to oblige.”

“Yeah bullshit.” Alex thought. “Thank-you. I have a few names left on my list, maybe someone around here can give me a hand.”

“Of course. Just wait here.”

This place was nothing like Alan’s hospital, fifteen miles north, modern and functional. Here was a place where it seemed caged animals lived. Bars all around. Bars on the doors and windows. Bars on top of bars. They split the light in all directions, casting pale diffused glow down the not so shinny tiled floor and largely bare walls. Alex was surprised at how many obvious patience were allowed to just walk around. He felt as though he were being watched. Yes there were security cameras, but this was deeper, more unsettling. They were all looking at him. He felt they were all part of some great secret that no one was going to tell. He recognized one or two faces, people he’d spoken to earlier, but most of them all blended together. At lest all these people were trapped in here and not out on the street. Alex couldn’t say much for being locked up in here with them, but he did have his gun.

Soon enough, the warden returned. In his right hand were three cds separated be an orange folder. “Here you go. As you know, I am a very busy man. I have cooperated with your investigation to the very best of my abilities. You say you have more business here? Who have you need to speak too?”

Alex handed him a piece of paper with a short list. The warden eyed it narrowly. “Ah, I see. Well let’s get this over with. All of these people have been here for quite some time. I fail to see what use they might be to you, but my house is your house. Right this way.

Later, after the bar, Alex began looking at the security recordings. He watched Cassandra. Her pattern was as consistent as the patient in the next room. Too. There were two sets of recordings. It was a very large facility. There were cameras all over the place.

“How did you get out of this place?”

Early into the next day, Alex found his answers. Alan was brutally attacked right as he was entering the parking structure. He never got close to his car. It was a bold move. The wraith wore an all black cloak. There was not enough to make an id. It was very fast.

In the case of Cassandra, it took Alex a good long while to piece together her movements and construct a time line that led to the point when she was no longer there. One night she is recorded walking down the hall to her room, holding the hand of a man. He is dressed in jeans and a dark shirt, His hair is fairly long and brown. Cassandra does not seem in any sort of distress in fact she takes him into her room. She does this on two other occasions just in the 3 days of worth of recordings. Strangely, her door remains closed in the weaning hours of video. If she got out, she did so when the camera wasn’t looking. Gone, literally without a trace. But there was the man. His face becomes clearly visible one time when he turns to walk in behind Cassandra.

“Do I have you? Huh? We need to find out who in the f**k you are.”

Alex busied himself about capturing screen shots and he prepared a status update for Denver because she told him to keep him continuously updated.

Denver,

Alex. The good doctors hospital hasn’t turned up any leads. No one seems to know anything. I spoke to all his buddies. Pretty much everyone there knows the man, but he seemed to have no specific plans the night he was taken and I do mean taken. I’ve attached several still images of video I got from both locations. Unfortunately, Alan’s attacker is unidentifiable from the video although the event is fully recorded. I’m sure the f.b.i. will want to see it.

Cassandra on the other hand is another story and we already know this one doesn’t have a happy ending, but I think we can kill two birds with one stone on this. I know you think these two event are related. I’ll admit, something is starting to smell. It looks like she might have had secret friend, or something. It’s hard to tell what exactly is going on here. A “gentlemen caller”? That I guess would be a little less odd. Way better luck with possible id. I attached a few stills. Do you know how to look at the pictures? Sara can help u. I just don’t understand how this mystery man got in and got out with her and got her into that old house as if everything was right as rain. It’s just as you explained it. Her at ease, her perfect comfort there. As if she’s always been there. At any rate, she seems very comfortable with this guy. I’m going to take a closer look at the situation, but I need to catch a few hours rest before going back into the koo koos nest. Will advice. Requesting any new information you might have come across.

Best

Alex.

((morning))

Denver was up quite a while before the sun. The air was cool and carried with it the weighing whispers of night. She rocked slowly in her deck chair over looking the front property. She could not see the road. She stared into the darkness. It penetrated her unsure soul. Occasionally she shivered under her plush red comforter. She rocked deliberately. Carefully measured strokes. Someone was messing with her. Someone caused Cassandra’s death. When Denver closed her eyes she still could not free the woman’s face from her mind. She felt almost haunted. But she was. Haunted by her own inactions. Her inability to see impossibility of that situation. Someone knew she would be coming to that house. She was herself convinced, however this was something she would keep to herself. Someone who wanted her to find all that blood. Blood which would take forever and again to test. In the mean time Mr. Blakestone could be approaching the end of a certain rope. There were too many unknowns. Her phone told her Alex had sent an update. That at lest was something. She was very tired but the darkness of the night was every bit as unsettling as the darkness in her mind.

The first thing Alex did was copy the images onto a memory stick. He went to a store with image printing and wheeled off a few. One he would give to Dr. Zivago. He was willing to bet money the man will say he doesn’t recognize him. It will be a lie, but one he will be forced to accept. Another he would circulate. Someone else had to have seen that guy. Cassandra was taking him into her room for christ’s sake! Did she know about the blood? About that situation? What else did she know? She was a beautiful woman. Frail and week from drugs, but under all of that Alex saw her. He felt for her. He wanted to stop at nothing to find out what exactly had happened to her. There was no reason to assume the man was any where near this place now. Unless of course he wasn’t afraid. There was always his unknown visitor. But Alex was fully prepared. He carried two 9mm, a knife, an extendable, electroshock, pain rod, brass knuckles and a twine of fiber wire in case he ever needed to suddenly strangle someone from behind. It hadn’t yet come up. He was also now wearing an experimental bullet proof vest upgrade called the Day Vest. It was designed to fit more naturally to the body while still offering maximum protection. In one of his jacket pockets he had several exploding smoke balls. Military issue. Used in urban raids. Better than Batman. Way better than James Bond.

Someone was watching him as he left the store. Alex was not taking the bait. Another unfortunate turn, but nothing that could not be dealt with.

“I know how to do it! Now they will begin to see. Now they will all suffer!

INTERLUDE

THE SUFFERING

*******

EXCERPTS FROM “THE MIND OF DARIUS TREN”.

----- Karen Elisabeth - Special Investigations - F.B.I.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

When I was nine my mother took me to the big show, a large, in door carnival attraction. The sights, the sounds, the smells, intoxicating. It was the first time I was really allowed to be around anything close to that many people. I remember being so amazed my how many people were there. This particular day held a special event. The day would be divided in two. The first half would be the grand show, you know, animals, clowns, harrowing stunts and the like. The rest of the day the whole of the center stage was quickly transformed into a quaint, inviting, gypsy village. I was very well done. I lost myself in it. Everything about it was so real.

Everything fascinated me, but what attracted me most was the fire.

“Why fire?”

I don’t know. The color maybe. They’re fire was a lot different from that I’d seen in the fireplace. This was wild! Alive! It warmed my soul. Everything they could do with it’s power. Swing it around in twine balls, swallow it on swords, even make it dance on their hands. Amazing things most people will never see, at lest not the way I have. Everything was as perfect as it possibly could be. Then I felt this vibration in the hay strewn ground of the shanty hut we were visiting. It was a black smiths shop. The man had been stoking a raised fire pit constructed with gray stones with a length of unfinished metal, but he suddenly stopped as another tremor and then another more pronounced rumble occurred.

“It happened very fast.”

In the blink of your eye my life was forever changed. I remember everything still, to a certain point. I must have been is some state of shock, but I can’t remember any pain. That is the part that troubles me still today. Was I really that shut off even then. Did I always have all my powers? What if I had used them without want? What then would have become of me? We certainly would not be having this conversation, at lest not quite in this way. ((laughing))

“So you are afraid of something. Yourself?”

I look myself in the mirror everyday just like you! The reflections are different. I’m not afraid of myself. I’m afraid for people like you, the ones who dare to try to understand. We have these intimate conversations because I wish it and I pay you for your confidence. Make no mistake. I slit you ear to ear a thousand times in my dreams. Now my personal needs need not press upon me as much as they always have and I can take a good long hard look in the mirror again and say to myself finally that I have done it. I have done the thing they will remember me by and I never have to do it again.

“Do what exactly?”

“Kill, my love, kill. Is it not that which we are always talking about? I think you like it almost as much as I do, did.”

“So you view it as a job, or a mission you set out to accomplish? I don’t buy that. You can’t just walk away from your life! You mean to tell me you will never kill again? Should I be afraid of you Mr. Tren?”

No. Of course not, Karen. I have grown ever so fond of our talks. I need them to continue just a little longer, then you will have everything you need. They will say my name for a hundred years! Two hundred! Jack the ripper was a chicken s**t b*****d. He attacked women in the dark with a cape and a hand saw. Brutal, yes, but sloppy and unimaginative. But you can feel the rage in his work. What release it must have been for him that first time. Have you ever felt the soul of another pass through you? When you kill. When you take a life, many times the essence of your victim will penetrate you as it leaves the body. They do it so you know they know what you did, but that’s as far as it goes. The rest is science fiction. You always keep a small piece of the person you kill with you, it’s unavoidable. Nothing helps. Hard drugs, drinking. Now we are way off the topic.

“No, it’s fine. You know we can talk about whatever you want. You never talk much about your scar.”

My scar. A scar is something you cover with a band aid, or a dab of makeup. No one ever covers this. Many times I have wanted to cut it off, knowing full well it would mean my death, but I am already dead. Only the fire now keeps me alive. Soon it will burn itself out. Soon, I will be free.

“What was it? An earthquake?”

An elephant. Something had spooked one and it charged. When I close my eyes I can still see its silhouette, hovering, menacing as it crashes through the loosely constructed store. I can see the wave of hot, molten death spilling through the air as the pit is destroyed. Rocks and wood and dust everywhere. Cries and yelling from all directions. Everything is goes dark after that. A cold darkness flooded over me. I was kept in a come for a great long while. In this time of perpetual solitude I remember nothing. I don’t think I dreamed at all. Rarely do I dream even today. The doctors said it was due to the shock and that one day my brain would relax and I would dream like everyone else, but it never happened. I go to that empty dark place most every night. Many times I have prayed never to come back, but it always seems to happen.

“Do you remember the name of the first person you killed?”

No.

“Is that something you would rather not talk about?”

No it’s fine. She was young. I knew soon after I returned home that things were different. There was something inside of me that hadn’t been there before. Something bad. Something very powerful. It took me a while to understand what exactly it was and what I was going to have to do about it. I was very scaired and so was she. I strangled her with her own scarf. Then I made love to her as she died. She breathed her last breath into me. It was in that moment, that first release that I found the only peace I have ever know. For a while after that, I was pretty good. I was very proud of myself for not getting caught and it never occurred to me that I would do it again. But I f*****g did. Then I knew I was fucked. I could not silence the voices in my head, but I could keep them at bay if I did things they wanted. They gave me creative ideas and ways to avoid being caught. I started to like it, but I was not happy. I was very depressed and had started drinking. I think I was thirteen, maybe a little older. I killed and killed again. I hid behind my age as well as my physical disposition. No one in a million years would ever think a severely scared boy was a serial killer. It was rationalized to me as a perfect cover. It became a free pass to exert my rage over the realities of my misfortune. Who would ever want the town freak.

“You must have had friends. Was there anyone you could talk to? Did you ever share your secret with anyone?”

I have shared many things with you. I will give you the name of my first real friend. His name was Dillian. Damn, I can’t remember his last name. Mostly I remember his eyes. The shiniest blue you will ever see.

“What made Dillian so special that you would risk being exposed?”

Dillian would never expose me. I did everything for him. I gave him life!

“How do you mean?”

When I met him he was an empty shell. Home schooled, isolated, ignorant. I �" took it upon myself to “learn him up” in some areas, shall we say. The first thing I did, simply really, was introduce him to liquor, then weed and E. I kept him under control. For the longest time his folks had no idea the trouble I was getting their precious virgin angel into. One night, we were at a bar. Some bar I can’t remember. I remember it was late, just awful late and we were very fucked up. I slipped, I said something I should not have and suddenly I had nowhere to hide.

“You started talking about something you had done?”

More or less. You see, my “compulsion” , was never on a dial. I was always operating at full blast.

“ What do you mean?”

I wanted to kill all the time! Every second. Only the fear of being caught kept me in check. Kept me from going off the deep end. I didn’t see Dillian for a while after that. My hope was that with everything else going on he would just forget I’d said anything. I even killed several times after that. It became easier as I refined my methods. I did have a car, although I never went anywhere. No one wanted to see what I’d become anymore than me. Why put anyone through that.

One day he did bring it up. I remember my blood turning to ice water. He must have seen the blood leave my face. I stuttered. Tried to laugh, but he saw through that even in his stoned state. He knew. Right then and there I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. I began to tell him the story. He didn’t believe me. I was insulted, angry even. The fool made me prove it. He asked me to kill his father.

“Jesus. You did it.”

Yes. Yes I did and I got away with it.

After that, the news media was all over the place and it seemed there was a cop at every corner. My secret had begun to attract extra attention. So I stopped for a while, at lest here in the city. Unfortunately I could not stop completely, I had to be more careful. Travel greater distances at one time. Plan routes ahead of time. Keep track of where I’d been, different cities, towns. Soon killing just became second nature.

“How were you selecting your victims? I’m assuming it wasn’t completely random.”

Most times it was just that. Completely f*****g random. I did not discriminate. I killed men and woman. Children. Seniors. Handicapped people. They are the weakest and the easiest to deal with as they hardly fight.

“Did you ever take Dillian or anyone else with you”

Once in a while he would come, but he never wanted to be involved in the act, but he made me tell him everything. He always insisted on every detail, even encouraging me sometimes to embellish my deeds. The last time he went he brought a woman friend of his along. I allowed it. We lied of course about the reason for the trip. I knew even before I turned the key in the ignition what he was planning. I could see it in his eyes. The woman meant absolutely f*****g nothing to him. Be was bullshitting her. He wanted to kill her. Himself. We argued in my hotel room one night during one of our stops. It went on for a good long while. He asked me if I wanted to watch. Then I knew he was serious. Then I knew what a dangerous monster I had created. A creature who’s beautiful, shinny blue eyes had faded more than a little. One morning He came to my door, We were someplace else. His eyes were hopelessly bloodshot. He was ghastly pale and sweating. I knew what he’d done, but he had been sloppy. She was all over him. Under his nails. In his hair. He was a real f*****g mess. He’d been drinking. I was amazed he’d made it back. He was a careless amateur. My reluctant prodaghea.

“You never told me you had a partner. Why not? You’re protecting him, aren’t you? Is he still doing it?

You might say he is fulfilling his destiny, one piece at a time. You might say.

Alex had seen enough. No one was talking and aside from an assault video and a grainy image of a face, he’d come up with nothing. He was being followed. It was a good thing he’d packed from the room. He drove his black escalade sedan around town for several hours. He went in and out of parking areas and around in circles. After a while, he was confident no one was on his tail. Be made a b line for the express way. Time to get the hell out of dodge.

Soon enough, he was well on his way and traffic was light. He phoned home to let his wife know he would be back soon and he called Denver to deliver the final verdict. She thanked him for his time. The F.B.I. was involved now. He drifted into the far right lane. The road home. Half way around the bend an explosion under the hood bent it upward and rocked Alex in all directions. He had the window open so his head was saved, but the out of control vehicle crashed head long into steal barrier, deploying his airbag. He was rocked again and again. The car flipped completely vertically and spun for a moment on the rail before crashing aimlessly down a mild slope.

A thin beam of light pierced Alex’s vision of abject darkness. He was deathly cold and was unable to move. Breathing caused immense pain throughout his frozen body. What the f**k is happening! He tried desperately to move in some way, any way, but nothing would respond. Something was wrong with his mind. He couldn’t remember anything. There was a ringing, light but persistent. It was the only thing he was sure of. The ringing started to get louder and more light could be seen. There was a sudden flash of hot white and the shadow of dark hands coming upon him. White light faded into darkness.

Denver grabbed her over coat off the tall, vertical wood rack and opened the front door. Even before she got her hand on the screen door handle, she saw it. A medium size cardboard box sat at the top step. Plenty of space for her to step out, which she did. There was a chill in the air. The wind rustled at her hair. “You know what’s a bad idea.” The box was folded on top and taped with duck tape. She opened her blade and knelt down. She hovered over the box. She tried to stop her heart from racing. Carefully, she cut along the crease, pulling it out quickly. “Son-of-a-b***h.” With the blade, she lifted an end and pushed it back. A waft of soiled air permeated her nostrils. She choked back. “God!”

“Denver? That you?”

“_________ stay right where you are! I mean it!”

“Alright, damn �"it!”

It was a struggle removing her leather gloved hand from her mouth. But she had to. She had to see what it was, knowing full well she was going to scream. It was Alex’s right hand, delivered at the wrist. His gold wedding band glistened through the blood.

CHAPTER 7

BLOOD and BONE

When Will awoke, he knew where he had seen Brenda before. He was angry at her for looking him strait in the eye and bull shiting him.

How much time had passed? Will could not know. His eyes were completely dry and they hurt. He found himself seated up against the wall under the dusty light. He looked downward at his legs. They’d been redressed. The wrap was very tight this time and for a moment at lest the pulsing, throbbing pain coursing throughout his body abated. He tried not to move, which wasn’t very hard. He knew he had been out, but he did not feel rested or recharged. Empty and hot. He tried to swallow, but there was not even a single drop of moisture in his mouth. His tongue stuck to the roof. His mind was completely blank. He could not even see the faces of his friends. His mind was shutting down. What the f**k difference does it make. We’re going to die here. Right here. This is as far as I can go. You win a*****e!!!

“How much f*****g money do you suppose is in that pile?”

Brenda closed her mouth which had been hanging wide for several minuets. “More than I will ever see again I know. Some of those bills I don’t recognize.”

“Those are 100k bills. Not something everyone just carries around in their wallet. Damn!”

“What.”

“We are totally fucked.” He looked right at her. “You know that right. Completely and totally fucked.”

She steeped closer to him, a cage containing a dark slab table and a neatly stacked pile of cold hard cash stood before them The cage and immediate area was lit, but shadows prevailed elsewhere. It was difficult tell the size of the room or if there were any other passages. The floor beneath her seemed black. Toomuchmoney. “What makes you think this money has anything to do with us?”

Alan glared at her. “Listen Nancy Drew I don’t give a f**k who this money belongs to.” His eyes were wide as saucers. He stared franticly about. There’s gotta be some way f*****g out of here. What if-what if we could get some of that money out?”

“Yeah, the what?”

He took a long breath. The heat was endless. It was no less oppressive here. They were both pretty whipped, but he could tell her spirit was high. Maybe it was time to let the woman be the boss for a while. “If I had that much money I sure wouldn’t have ended up in this f*****g dungeon.”

“And just what in the hell do you mean?”

“You know what, will you just stop.”

“F**k you.”

“Will you shut up for one f*****g second and just let me think! Go check on Will. He needs to be up now. You don’t even know how long you were out for do you? He left us there. Nothing was stopping him from coming down those stairs and carving us up but he didn’t. Look at us Brenda, we’re dying. I really don’t want to argue with you. Go get him. I’ll have a look around.”

“Fine. You’re still an a*****e.”

“That’s no problem.”

The cage was dark metal with thick, cylindrical, vertical bars. It was square and about 9 feet around. Alan was afraid to touch it, his eyes were tightly fixed on the money. All the money in the world. He turned a corner, hesitant to even stop out of the circle of light. A folded piece of paper was taped to one of the bars half way down at about waist level. Alan approached it. He snatched at it quickly and missed. His eyes shook. Was he that bad off. “F**k!” He took the paper and opened it. 600 million. “Oh we are so fucked.”

Brenda knelt next to Wll. Her hair was wet and matted. She was very tired and her head was hurting more now. She knew the wound would scar. It angered her, but she was angry about a lot of things now. She couldn’t really hold it together, but for Will’s sake she was trying. He was way worse off. They all should be dead. She rested her hand on his shoulder and he jumped as he turned. She smiled, squeezed him gently. “It’s okay. You were out for a long time. We don’t know how long. I know I passed out at some point. I was really shocked when I woke up still down here. It’s torture, but it’s life. Right?”

Will forced a smile. “Not really.” He grimaced and swallowed hard. “I feel like a*s. I need water.”

“I know. Me too. I noticed the door up there isn’t moving. I’m thinking about going up there. I don’t like it, but if I don’t-“

“We’re going to die down here. It’s already happening.”

Alan stepped through the door. “I can’t see anything in there. It’s a lot of f*****g money though.”

Will jerked up. He pushed himself against the wall. Brenda helped. “What f*****g money.”

“In the room. In a cage.”

“Show me.”

Brenda helped him to Will. “Listen Alan, I’m going to go up and see if any water is still there. We need. Badly. Wish me luck?”

“I probably should go, but I’m not going to argue with you.”

“I got it.”

The men made their way into the money room.

A sick, unsettling sensation permeated Will’s body. He glared intensely at the loot. His blood began to boil. He started to tremble. Alan had let him stand and was beginning the task of feeling the wall. He noticed will and went to him. “What is it man?”

Will was pale as a ghost and hot white with anger, like a man possessed. “How much damn money is in that pile?”

Alan produced the slip of paper. He gave it to him.

He scowled under his breath. “My f*****g money! All of it! You mother f*****g-“

“Wait wait shut the f**k up. That’s not your money. Bullshit. That’s our damn money when we get the f**k out of here!”

Will looked at him, stone faced. “No man. That’s my money. That was all of it. Jesus christ!” He began to weep angry tears.

“Jesus man. Really? No f*****g way. What, did you win the lottery?”

“No. Stocks. I was sitting at the very top of the world looking down at everything before me. I was making decisions, plans, promises. After the crash my wife made me cash out. Invest later. We put it all in the bank. Seemed like the best thing to do. But it wasn’t. Someone stole our money. Then bank refused to reimburse us while the investigation was ongoing, but never ended! We were left with nothing and no one had any answers. “You mother f****r! Where are you! I’ll kick your s**t a*s right now!”

Alan tried to calm him, but Will was becoming incensed. “Man calm down. It’s only going to make your worse.” Will had ……….. looked better.

“I know I’m dyin’ doc. You don’t need to remind me. I’m telling you that is my f*****g money. That b*****d-stole my money! My life! F**k! I need to sit. My legs are f****n’ killing me. What’s taking her so long.”

“Well, you know, she’s a �"

“A what.”

Alan grinned and shook his head quickly. He turned to Brenda. “A very brave woman.” He grinned again, but it wasn’t helping.

“Yeah bullshit. I got water. The pools are full, but we can only drink so much water. It’s cold. Thought about going for a dip but no.”

“I wonder what’s down there.” Alan said.

“Yeah you just keep wondering.” Will replied.

“Anyways, here’s water.” She handed the men bottles. They drank them down quickly. It was not enough. Alan went and got more, then it was better.

“Brenda will you help me up.”

She stepped back from the cage and went to him. She steadied him. “Alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He smacked her hard across the face and she went down, but got right up and charged. Alan jumped from the darkness and grabbed her around the waist and they went down hard. She yelled and kicked at him. Will laughed. “Yeah kick, you lying b***h!”

“Shut the f**k up man! If I let her go she’ll kill you is that what you want! Huh!”

“F**k you both! Let me go!”

“No! Not until u promise me you won’t do anything.”

“F**k you.”

“Promise! We can die right here if you want, but I’m not going to stand here and watch the two of you tare each other to pieces. I wont! So make a decision.”

After a while, Brenda relented. She pushed off of him and jumped up. The left side of her face was already reddining and her lip was bleeding. She touched it. “You son-of-a-b***h. What the f**k was that for.”

“You were there! I had to almost die to remember, but I do now. I know where I’ve seen you before. You do remember me!”

Brenda’s eyes were watering and her whole face burned and her jaw was sore. She could barely even see him. I have never seen you before in my entire life Will, I swear. You think you can beat truth out of me? Well bring it. I don’t know what the f**k you are talking about.”

“I’m talking about my early retirement party. I’m talking about WestCorp. You were there! Weren’t you?”

“Oh my god. Oh f*****g god!”Brenda could feel Will’s cold dark eyes as he glared at her. She stepped back, hands cupped over her mouth. She shook her head in disbelief. She rested her arms at their sides. She was pale as a ghost. Not quite yet. “I give you my word I have nothing to do with your money. I was just there, serving drinks. It was a job! For christ sake, I didn’t even recognize you.”

“Yeah! I look a lot different now that I’m bleeding and dying. But I’m not dead yet! And I sure as hell remember you. I knew it!”

Will was very impressed with himself and seemed determined to blame Brenda for all of his troubles. It was too much for Alan to believe. “So what. So she served you a martini at your big party, so what. That doesn’t mean she set this whole thing up. I mean come on, what are the odds we make it out of that damn fish bowl huh? Zero. Cut the woman some slack. She had metal rods in her body remember?”

Will sighed heavily. He just had had enough of everything. He was tired and felt nauseous, but kept it to himself. He just wanted to go home. “Yeah I remember.”

“It does prove one thing.” Brenda said. “It proves we were not chosen completely at random. Yes, I was there at the party, but I had no damn clue about all-this money. You really think if I could have gotten my hands on all this, I would really bother doing all this? Well you give me an ounce of credit Will, I’ll give you that. But your f****n crazy!”

“Yeah? I’m crazy? Just where the hell were you going In that red dress of yours? Huh!”

“Will.”

“Huh! Lying little-“

“Will enough!” Alan pressed his left hand against Wills shoulder. He shook it immediately off. “Will you calm down for twenty f*****g seconds! All the money in the damn world doesn’t do us one damn bit of good down here! Wherever here even is. We don’t even know that. Lets just try and hold it together. Yelling wastes energy and time. Look at us. We don’t have a lot of either. Now, I haven’t been able to check this room because I have to keep the two of you from trying to kill each other. Now, do you mind?”

“You go ahead. Walk in circles in the dark. I’m going to sit with my money.”

“Want some help?” Brenda offered.

“No. Don’t you touch me.”

(time passes)

Alan emerged from the shadows. He wiped another layer of sweat from his brow. “There’s nothing. I don’t get it.”

Strength had begun to return to Brenda. She hurt, but anger was once again a firm weapon in her hand. Her eyes narrowed. She looked around the room. Up at the hazy light. She turned to the door and stepped off toward it. Will had made himself slightly comfortable between two bars and was nodding off. A close inspection of the door gave her cause to grimmus. “I might have something here.”

Alan went to her. She was looking at the joints. “What is it?”

“There. See those wires. They’re on the bottom too.”

“It’s rigged. Why hasn’t it closed? Oh. S**t.”

“They want us to do it. Makes it a little easier when you make people help you kill them.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Alan said. There was another long pause between them. The pauses were getting longer as time and life slipped away. For his own part, Alan was feeling the full effects of the dank, depressive heat and the taste of dried blood on his lips. His arm was not dislocated, but it did hurt like hell. He was tired and tired of all the f*****g games. “Well whatever, f**k it. Close the door. See what happens.”

Brenda tipped an eye in Will’s direction. “Maybe we should ask him what thinks.”

“He’s out. I’m afraid we might all be out pretty soon. Never thought I’d die looking 600 million dead in the eye. No way to get it. No way to spend it.”

“Do you believe his story? Is that really his money?”

“Woman I don’t believe you were at that party with his a*s! Yes, I believe that’s his money someone stole. It’s fucked up, but then again, it’s been a ruff few days now I think. Days right? Not hours.”

Brenda leaned against the curved, steel door frame. “God the thirst never goes away!” She eyed him narrowly. Sure, but not sure she could trust him.

“What?”

She sighed. “Nothing. It’s nothing, I’ve just been thinking.”

“Yeah, what about?”

“All the information our crazy landlord has been giving us.

“Such as?”

“Well let’s think about it. Go back to the beginning. What was the first piece of info? What told us he knows way more about us than he even should?”

“The f****n-f****n whatch-a-ma-call-it. Shaky things.”

“Rattles!”

“Yeah right! Rattles. Yeah so what the freak glued a couple baby toys together, big deal. He’s a nut bag! You hear me you mother f****r! Huh!”

“Okay can we be done screaming. I know you’re pissed and you’re also mistaken. My wedding song. The damn Carpenters!”

“Oh that’s right. The song u hated. Yeah sweated all those memories out of me thanks. It’s really not that bad of a tune. If you hated it so much why did you end up dancing to it?”

“He played it, every time. At first I didn’t mind it so much, but eventually it turned into a bit of a private torture. The trouble really started once he caught on to how irritated I really was with the whole thing. I guess I just forgot to fake it after a while. I mean�"s**t�"that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t faking it, I just had given up trying to shake him out of his ifinity.”

“You are a strong woman Brenda. It doesn’t seem to me like you would have trouble telling your husband to play a different damn song. So, what are you saying? We were kidnapped by someone who knows just how crazy your husband made you with a silly love song? I’ll grant you, the song is telling us something, but how hard would it really have been to find out what songs were played. Did you hire a dj?”

“He did, I think. F**k! Well that’s it. He knows everything about us. We’re just screwed. The money is here at the end so he can record it laughing at us. You’re sure there’s not another door around somewhere.”

“The room’s not as big as it might look. Really, there’s nothing. I know what else is on your mind.”

“He made you a two time kidnapping victim. Just like that and he knew you were a doctor that’s part of the reason he-hurt Will. Obviously it makes him less of a threat, but it also distracts us and slows us down. We’ve been really lucky Alan. But look. He has Will’s life locked in a cage man. It doesn’t get any more fucked up than that. We have all the water we can carry. Lets close this thing and see what happens.” Brenda stepped forward a little and turned. Alan helped and they slowly creaked the door into place. It settled with a dull thud. Nothing. They stared at each other unblinking moments. “Turn the wheel.” He gave her a hand. It turned easily. Alan gave it a final pull. He exhaled hard. Only disgusted. “ He looked back at the cage. “Well I guess we’ll just have to-“

A sound reverberated from below. A tremor, like two pieces of rigid granate grinding together. It got louder and louder. Alan looked back at Brenda. “I told you this was a bad f*****g idea!”

She cursed back at him half under her breath. “You’re the one who-!”

“Shhhh! Look. The cage. It’s sinking into the floor.”

The coolness of the bars rolled slowly down Wills back. Somewhere in his mind it was bright and quiet. He could be lazy. There was no rush to do anything. His vision was at once ripped from him for the others were suddenly upon him. They rose him up and lifted him away from the cage which clicked to a stop several inches below.

Will was furious. He was at his wits end now. “All my f*****g money!” “I am going to find out who in the f**k you are and I’m gonna kill you! Man! Now what in the f**k is this huh! Now we’re moving money up and down? Are you doing this just to make yourself feel clever! You’re not! I don’t care weather I ever get this money back or not, I’ll still kill you!”

“You can afford one hell of a lawyer, that’s for sure.” Brenda said.

Alan waved a quick hand at her. “Stop it. Lets have a look at what it did. He got down on his knees and peered down into the shadows surrounding the cage. He slid forward a little more. “Hey! I think I see something. I think it’s a light. It’s down there somewhere, but it looks kind of far, I can’t tell. Brenda urged him to get up, but something caught Alan’s eye as he was. The floor side of the space was lined with a series of circular pipe looking objects big enough to stick an adult fist in comfortably. He could see they went all around.”

Brenda was getting antsy. She helped Will to sit. “Alan what is it?”

His voice echoed back to her. “I’m-not exactly sure. It’s probably nothing.”

There was a loud bursting sound. A sizeable ignition and a low continuous hissing sound associated with it. Then suddenly came another and another. Each pop sounding louder than the last. A build up. Pop! Pop! Pop! Out of the corner of Alan’s left eye he saw a flash. The next one was closer. The pipes were turning on. They flashed bright, then faded slightly. The flashes approached.”

Brenda hesitated moving closer. “What is it? Lights? What can you see?”

In his haste to see past the darkness, Alan reach had just about exceeded his grasp. He was starting to slip and the flashes were getting closer. Three away. Two. One. He jerked back and caught his head on the edge. He cursed loudly. In desperation he gripped onto the tube in front of him for even a monocrum of support. He looked up, directly in the fiery gates of hell. The metal immediately burned in his grip. A white hot flash exploded outward. He pushed against the ledge with his free hand and flipped himself up and over the ledge. His face was red and there was smoke in his hair. He was coughing. Brenda went to him as he crawled away from the hole. “F*****g b***h!”

“Jesus Alan!” Brenda rubbed his back. He continued to gag. Now the room echoed all around a metallic hissing. It penetrated them and rattled their bones. It was in the floor, the walls. A forbodeing cloud of smoke was forming around the cage. It engulfed the money and choked the light. Brenda found herself wanting to cough again too. Her throat was sore as well from earlier efforts. She glanced up at the door. She went to it. With all her might she could not turn it. “Alan get up.”

“F**k you.”

“Yeah f**k yourself. The room is filling with smoke! How much more of this s**t do you want to breath?”

It hurt even too breath. Alan rocked back on his shins. He held his face in his hands for a short while.

“Alan please.”

He stood, begrudgingly and went to her side. “One time. Ready! Go!”

Nothing.

“Happy now. We fucked ourselves.” Alan through his hands up in the air. He saw Will sucking water down and decided to join him. “That looks like a much better idea.” He plopped down on the other side of the sack and retrieved a bottle.”

“Really man? You’re just done.”

“That’s right sweetheart. I’m sitting this one out. It’s a little smoky, so what. I’ve been through worse.”

Will looked at him. “Speak for yourself.”

“Will I think you both can kiss my a*s.” Brenda gave her all on the wheel, but it refused to budge. “Dammnit!”

“It’s about time you got pissed off! Join the f*****g club.” Will said. He bitched on for a short time.

While he carried on, Brenda was taking a cautious look into the smoky darkness. As she leaned in she could see the pipes. The ends were glowing a haunting bluish-violet. The smell of gas was overpowering. She covered her mouth and got down lower. It was too hot. She could see space, but nothing clear beyond the dark and smoke. She winced and coughed again and again. She rose and staggered back. “Son-of-a-b***h!”

“What did you see?” Will asked

“S**t!”

“Well that figures.”

Alan chuckled inwardly. He glared at Will. “You really are something, you know that.”

“Can you give the woman a f*****g break? She’s not the person who ruined your pathetic life! If I had a lighter I’d burn it all right in front of you. How would you like that?”

“F**k off.”

“Believe me. I want to.” He coughed. “It smells like gas.”

Brenda’s eyes widened. “Oh my f*****g god!”

At once the gap exploded in shooting flame. The roar was deafening. The force of the blow scattered the smoke and the cage money was again visible. The room was alive in flickering glow.

The heat was intense. Alan could feel it from where he stood. Now the room was really smoking. The torching flames snapped at the bars of the cage sending crackling embers off in all directions. Just when he thought he’d seen everything. Now the money began to smoke. Stray bills flapped in the striking heat. It began to burn. Alan ran to the door. He pulled and pulled at the wheel. “Come on!” He wiped around as the pile became fully engulfed. It was an amazing, blinding sight. Even as the pile burned out of control the flames did not relent. They continued to bellow as one.

Will was coming unhinged. He ground his clenched fists into the floor. “Noooo!” There was a fire within him now. It was hotter than the one now engulfing the room. It forced him, bloodied and sweat covered, to his feet. Now they were all coughing again. “Well!” He looked back and forth at the others.

Brenda called to Alan. “You think there’s something down there!”

“I don’t know. I said I saw something. It could be nothing!”

“Yeah well pretty soon we’re either going to suffocate or, my favorite, cook to death.”She pointed. “The torches. They’re not stopping! Can’t you feel it. My heart its �" in stress. We have to do something, now!”

Will’s skin dropped another shade whiter. Horrors were now stacking upon themselves. He found himself becoming mesmerized by the corse whipping of the torches. The heat. The death. It beckoned him. Fresh drops from his forehead. The last drops of a man who knows he is dying, but for some reason time and fate keep him alive. Maybe to fight. Maybe to die. “I say we wait right here. Take our chances. The fire has to go out at some point. It’s bad I know, but we’ve been through worse right.”

Brenda was shaking her head. “No �" no that’s bullshit! I say we jump down there into that hole. What ever is down there can’t be much worse than anything up here. I’ve been burned, cut, drown, smacked and punched. Drilled f*****g �" god damned into!. For what? Some sickos pleasure. No. It’s not that. There’s something else going on. He is trying to kill us. Alan if you had taken that fall from the ladder do you think you would be standing here, about to jump in to the pit of hell?”

Alan stiffened. His eyes widened. “No one said anything about jumping into anything. What, are you nuts?”

“I might just be. Yep.” She nodded quickly. A million thoughts flashed across her mind. Just for a moment, she was prepared. She stepped to the white, hot edge. She tipped to her side and fell, fetilly through the flame. She began a scream, which was abruptly cut as she melted away. There was nothing. Just the thronging of the torches and the red hot metal which its self was at toms points on fire and continued to creak and spark.”

Will stood aghast. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “Jesus. She-she just killed herself. Ha! Bloody mad woman. I really cant believe-“

“Will you shut the f**k up for just one moment!”

“What!”

“Listen!”

Will halted his new rant, but could hear nothing outside of the rush of flame bending metal. Now it was starting to feel like the inside of a volcano.

“ It sounds like-crying.” Alan tried to get a little closer. He got down low. The floor was hot under his bare feet. “Brenda! Brenda! Can you hear me?” He strained to hear, but now there seemed to be nothing. “F**k!”

“Yeah. That about says it. Jesus! I heard that!”

A second barrage of desperate, high pitched screams penetrated the heated barrage. It startled Alan. Now, he was going to have to do the impossible. He was going to have to do something he did not know if he could do. “Fall into the fire? She survived! Maybe.”

“Well what do you think?

“I think she’s alive!”

“Yeah! You don’t have any idea what’s down there. What if he’s down there? This is f*****g insane. I’m not doing it.”

“Well I am!” The heat was beating in his face now. How long can you look the devil in the eye? Who blinks? “Brenda!” The metal sparked wildly. Alan crouched. He gathered his strength, what there was left. He closed his eyes tightly and pitched over at a sideways angle. He collided immediately into Brenda, who had somehow managed to get back up to the torches and was bracing against dark, warm walls. She halted his progress, but only for a moment. The impact sent her back down into the perpetual darkness with a sharp echoing scream. The delay was enough. His left leg became lodged between two of the pipes. His head smacked against an invisible surface. He cursed loudly and thrashed about. Then the real pain began to take hold. An icey chill raged through him. For a moment, his body fell completely numb. His brain fired wildly. His kakis caught fire almost immediately and his shoe laces dissolved. He screamed and cursed to god.

Brenda hit the cold floor with a dull thud. Her feet absorbed most of the impact, but she still went down on her butt. She was pissed, but looking up there was no time. Alan was on fire. “Alan!”

Above, Will saw what had happened. He could see the bottom of Alan’s shoe between the flames. He could his pain through the force of the torches and the spazzing metal cage. The money was no more. Now the table was black and smoked impossibly. Was Brenda down there? Was she alive? “F**k! F**k me. He got down. He inched closer to the fire. His ankle was jammed in good, but it was close. He could get a grip on the shoe, but I was would come at a price. How long was he willing to pay that price?

Brenda was back up the short vertical maze. She grabbed his shirt, pulled herself up a little farther. He smacked at his pants, trying to get some hold, but her feet slipped continually and the extra pulling on his leg caused him to scream all the more. She couldn’t reach his shoe. She pulled strait down as hard as she could. She pulled even as he cured her to stop. “Come on b***h! Come out!” Then she saw the burning edge of his show scoot forward. Not a lot, but a little. She pulled more. The shoe slipped again and at once Alan was free, but Brenda had not the strength to keep hold of him. She held onto him as long as she could as they fell together. They banged side to side, smacking the bottom at about the same time.

Will jerked back. He looked at his hands. They were a little red and smoked some, but he was relieved at lest to see it was not bad and Alan was free. He turned around, back toward the fire. Now he was more frightened than ever. The room was intolerably hot and filling with smoke. He coughed more. The cage was continuing to glow and disintegrate. He edged closer. Now was the time. He took a deep breath and rolled himself over the edge. He caught a piece of something just into the darkness, hard on the hip. It thrust him in another direction and then another.

INTERLUDE

THE SUFFERING

EXCERPTS FROM “THE MIND OF DARIUS TREN.”

----- Karen Elisabeth - Special Investigations - F.B.I.

“He’s smoking a lot now, that’s good. I like the way it curls under the light.”

“I want to go back to your early days, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Good. How would you describe your home life growing up?

“We’ve been through all of this Karen. Must we cover the same ground again? There are so many more interesting topics.”

“I’m sorry Mr.Tren.”

“And stop calling me that. You know my name.”

“It’s-it’s just for the recording. Darius. I just want to make sure-I have everything.”

“Everything you shall have. Lets continue.”

“Tell me about your parents.”

“My father grew up in logging. It’s really the only thing he knew. After the industry dried up, I think a part of him died. He worked, but mostly he drank. Worked and drank and made my mother crazy.”

“Why did he drink so much? Was he depressed? Maybe, didn’t know how to deal with things?”

“Everyone deals with things in his or her own way. As an inherently selfish species, we tend to begrudge people their own vices and pretend ours do not exist. But eventually all the lying and denial comes back to haunt you. Everyone has voices inside their head Karen. Even someone as young and �"“

“Darius.”

“-enigmatic, as you.”

“Right. So first he drank because he lost his career, then he drank because of you. I want to ask you about your time in the hospital Darius. Can you remember that time? I know it must just have been awful. Please try.”

“If you are asking about the time immediately following the accident, no, I do not. They kept me sedated or in a coma for a very long time. They certainly caused damage to my brain that probably could have been prevented, but this is a different time. I emaine they were shocked I was even alive. Slowly, I stared to come around, but those days are much a blur now. Images. Little things. Feelings mostly. Pain. Sadness.”

“Who visited you the most while you were there?”

“Mother of course. She rarely left my side. That’s probably what I remember most. That, and the look on my fathers face once the bandages finally came off. I never saw him much after that. I know it was tuff on him. No one wants a freak for a son.”

“Is that how you view yourself? As a feak?”

“Do you mean, did I consider joining the circus? Now that really would have been something. No. I looked myself in the mirror every f*****g day. I just wasn’t looking at the same person anymore. There was a constant warm pressure on my face. I never took the pills they gave me. I was afraid my parents might try and kill me. I know that sounds crazy, but I was thinking a lot of crazy s**t back then. I was-seeing things. Things I could never really explain. Some things-never change.”

“You were having hallucinations?”

“At first I thought they were just bad dreams. Thematic imagery from my accident, but after a short time I realized it was something much worse than that. I was dreaming while I was still awake. You see doctor, there is a very fine line between awake and asleep. Most people never experience what it is like to walk that very line. It is a path I know very well.”

“Waking dreams. I know something about dreams and trauma.”

“We know each other very well doctor. You see, while you have been doing hour homework on me, I have been doing my homework on you. You’re resume is almost as impressive as mine. Almost.”

“So we can talk about your dreams. These waking night mares. Can you remember how they started?”

“They started shortly after I returned home. The shrinks talked to me a lot about adjustment and being in new environments. I’d long gotten over the indignities of being treated like a wounded animal in a cage and the face in the mirror would grow only more ghastly by the day. My parents were not rich people to begin and no amount of plastic surgery was going to un do-this.

The first few nights were fine. There were many differences. One thing I really remember is the way the fresh air tasted and felt in my body. Everything around me looked different. It was as if the whole world had changed and it had. Cars were faster. There was internet and endless games. Some of my friends were still around, but I never left the house. It was a long time before I even went into the backyard. There were only a couple of people I would see, but most visits didn’t last long. I didn’t go to school. They found me a decent tutor and my education did progress, but soon I felt as though I was still strapped to a hospital bed. The walls of my room began to look very much the same as those I’d stared blankly at all those years. It really started the night of my sixteenth birthday.

I woke up in the middle of the night. There was a storm. The hall light was flickering. I went down stairs into the kitchen. I got a knife. It was a big one. Then I went back upstairs and into my parents bedroom. I stood at the foot of the bed. I can’t say how long. I watched them sleep. After a time, I went over to my father’s side. I drove the chef’s knife hard into the side of his neck. I pulled it out quickly. The wound expelled an explosion of red. I can still see the twinkling of the moon light in it as it spread through the air and all over. I could feel it on my face. Warm and wet. He didn’t scream. His face was froze. Petrified in shock. I don’t even think mother woke then. He shook for a few moments, then it was over.

Then the most bizarre thing. I suddenly felt as though I were being shaken. Then everything was a blur. I don’t remember exactly what happened after that. It wasn’t really father I had killed. It was the dog, but that’s not how I remember it. I never told anyone about what really happened that night. Not my parents. Not the doctors. Nothing happened for a few days, but then I had another bad dream. Then another. I started waking suddenly in the night, hot and soaking wet. My head burned. I felt encased in some phantom mask. I became angry and increasingly isolated. I couldn’t stand the sight of myself.

“You were depressed. That’s understandable.”

“You don’t know a f*****g god damned thing about depressed! You go home to your perfect family. Your perfect house. You make love to a man you make entirely more money than. Your parents sent you to private school and your brother to military school. It worked out just about brilliantly, accept that is for your brother. (uncontrolled laughing)”

“Alright Darius that’s enough. Talking about my life never get’s us anywhere. You don’t know anything about me you haven’t read on line or heard in the news. You wanted to talk, so I am here, but not to play stupid games with you. Are we clear?”

“Crystal. Clearly, admittedly, I was suffering some kind of psychosis. I started having dreams about the dog. They were horrible. The images would lash back and forth. First the dog, then my parents. The blood. I was standing in pools of blood. “God help me!” I would say, but he never did. The dreams would not relent. I killed them over and over. Then I would see other people as well. Friends of mine, teachers.

“You told no one of this? Not even your shrink? Dr. Patterson. Did you think you couldn’t trust him?”

“Look at me! You tell me who I can trust. Of course I didn’t trust him I knew he was talking to my parents. They didn’t know I knew, but I did. He sent them e mails. I knew the passwords. But I didn’t hide everything from him. I was genuinely concerned for my own wellbeing. I wasn’t sleeping very well and I was tired all the time. I gave him little things. Enough to get pills, I liked the way they made me feel, but they did nothing for me at night. I would take them during the day just for fun. Sometimes I’d sneak a shot of liquor for added effect. That was not very good.”

“Then I had a really bad night. My dreams had gotten still worse. I was dreading sleep. Coffee kept me going for a while, but eventually the body just shuts down. It was in those dark places, those netherworlds, where I met him. It. I knew in that one curdling moment, the person I had seen in the mirror a lifetime ago was far far gone. He wasn’t coming back. I knew it and the easiest thing I saw to do was to accept it, or kill myself. That has always been an option and I know I could do it, its just I never have.”

“We’ve talked about god before. You said that the only time you ever prayed was in the time soon after you returned home. What were you afraid of Darius?”

“I was always afraid they would come for me. One day mother or father would just flip out and that would be the end, but eventually things settled down. I got over that, however there was something within myself that started to scare me much worse even than my reflection in the mirror.

Finally, I guess I just couldn’t take it anymore. It’s been so long now, I honestly couldn’t tell you what set me off like that. It was such a random thing to do, but I did it. I had already achieved my first kill, however I had aroused my parents in my sleep walk. They knew what I had done, but nothing ever would come of that event. Maybe it was just another headache they didn’t want. Maybe they viewed it as a bad accident. Long conversations about my parents feelings never happened. I knew they were sad. Disappointed.”

“You think they were disappointed in you?”

“Yes. I mean, it’s not like it was my fault. I didn’t spook that elephant. They just were never quite sure what to do with me. But soon I started to care less and less what my parents thought. I became increasingly bored and uneasy. Most things I kept from people. The anger inside me, the frustration of being locked in an invisible cage. Being treated like a man who knows he is going to die. I wanted someone to feel what I was feeling. No one could. I needed something. A release of some kind. Then it happened, but this time I wasn’t asleep. Sleep walkers are sloppy. They bump into things. My subconscious mind was not strong enough to quiet the maelstrom forming in my head. I needed something I could better control.

This one particular night I snuck out. Blood was on my mind. It was all I could dream about then. Blood and bone. I would see visions in my mind. Waves of red crashing across ominous skulls and rib cages. Never the thoughts of what I thought a normal boy of my age should be having. No dreams of space hero’s and courageous soldiers. No, I got the good stuff. They came in waves. Different images. Frightening things. I had to do something to stop the voice In my head. His echo’s pounded in my ears like so many trumpets. Even as I walked down the street I remember stopping and holding my head. He was going to make me do it. He laughed at me when I said what about our dog. He said that was just a test, just to make sure I could do what needed to be done. I can remember being petrified in my own skin. It’s a feeling, come to think of it, that never goes away really, at lest not right away.”

“What feeling is that?”

“Oh it’s guilt. It’s the warm blanket us addicts wrap ourselves in to protect ourselves from imminent destruction. Everyone feels pain. It’s just a question of how you deal with it.”

“Lets talk a little more about your thoughts of suicide. You’ve mentioned before your desire to stop. Stop killing. Where there times when you were able to control it? Control “him”.”

“Not really. He was always there. Even in the beginning. I could see him standing there in the shadows, in the crusty corners of my minds eye. At first he was far away, but I could see him still. Then I would see him closer, standing in the mirror. I would whip around quickly to try and catch him, but he was never there. At first I thought someone was playing a cruel joke on me. Someone was, but it as no one I was going to be able to beat. I was forced to play the evil game.

F*****g yes I wanted the whole bloody thing to stop! To come to an end and I wanted to die! What I was doing! Jesus. I should have been caught a thousand times. You know that? How many times I’ve been this close to punching my ticket to the electric chair? It makes my sick. But it never f*****g happened. Not once. We were smart. He helped me. He showed me ways of doing things and how not to get caught. At first I thought I could control it. Stop whenever, but no. No, it doesn’t work like that.

I had conversations with my friend about the feasibility of my disposition and how long realistically things could continue. We always arrived at about the same conclusion. Neither if us wanted to die. Neither of us wanted to go to hell either, that was a real argument, and it kept me going. Bought me more time to figure out how I was going to cope with the insatiable, violent tendencies coursing through my psyche. It could feel m blood pumping in my veins. My heartbeat resonated throughout my body and mind. I went crazy that night. That’s the best way to describe what I did. I went crazy. It wasn’t the last time, just the first. It was bad. Messy. I was sure I’d get nailed. Someone did end up coming to the door, but that was about it. Enough animals wind up dead, people start to pay attention. Yep.

I was at a very low point after that. I tried to force the images from my mind. The pain. The ripping of flesh. The spatter of warm blood on my face and a taste. After that I was fucked. I looked long and hard into the mirror. I tried again and again to block him out. I just wanted him to go away, but he stayed. He taunted me. He refused to allow me to sleep. By this time my parents had begun to suspect something was wrong. I was just being quiet and I was suffering sleep apnea. My mother urged me to talk more with the shrink, but I told her I did not trust him. It was easier not to say anything to anyone. I did tell the doctor enough to get me more pills and sleeping pills. I would take extra. If I could get myself down enough I could block him out, or at lest tone him down enough to allow me the rest. But, long term, chemically induced deep sleeps can lead to bouts of increased sleep apnea and increased irritably. It was a constant battle. I felt as though was continuously fighting for my life, or what was left of it. I felt like I was fighting some one else’s battle. I had been transformed. My parents mostly thought I was, but I was far from that boy that went to the carnival that day. I always remember him, but he died a long long ago. I wanted to tell them, my folks. I wanted to tell them it was me that went into all those backyards and did that. It wasn’t wolves, as they were saying.”

“Wolves! (lauging)”

((Tren laughing)) “I know. He really got a kick out of that. I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand how they could think animal did all that, but he explained to me that that was how they keep from casing a panic. If it’s wolves everyone goes back to bed. If it’s a crazy person everyone loads their shot guns. But I had the perfect cover. No one would ever in a million years suspect the poor scared boy of the most heinous and bloody crimes. He showed me my protection was built in. It was. He showed me I could do anything. He gave me something I had lost. Purpose! But more than that, he gave me my life back! He gave me confidence.

“So what changed after that night? What was so special about it? You had some grand revelation? What.”

“Yes, my future was revealed to me, in a sense. I needed to get out from the confines of my meager existence. He stressed to me that the trail of blood would at some point lead back to me if I continued to expel only area of immediate living, but in those early days I had a lot more anger and fear. I took more chances. I was bad and messy. I worked in the shadows. Occasionally I would surprise a rabbit or other runt. There were lots of things I could get away with. Voyeurism became an option. It helped to fill the need, but in a different sort of way and it was an easy way to get caught. I was a lot braver as a kid, but I was curious about what other people were doing. I was very interested in women. It was just more fuel on the fire. Another need to satisfy. It should come as no surprise my first was a woman. Well, close enough. I knew I was going to do it. I knew I was going to do it even before he told me it was the only way to shut him up! But he lied to me. I knew it was a lie. I begged him. I begged him not to make me do it. But I couldn’t stop. I was taking more pills by then and drinking. I didn’t have money of my own, but family and some friends would send me money. I did things around the house. Everyone was trying so hard to make me feel at home. I knew my happy face was not convincing. Hell, it’s no face at all. Mostly I felt disgraced and used.

After that initial blood letting I tried to cool things off. Hold back the mad man stiring in my minds eye. I tried to focus on the positives in life and there certainly were bright spots. I wouldn’t say I had crossed the point of no return just yet, although I did feel myself a little closer, to something. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it then, but the rush in the aftermath of what I had done was amazing. I flashed the images over in my mind. I was turning 17, starting my last year of the private schooling. I at lest did that part. My instructor had been suggesting to me I seek work whilst considering continuing education options. By then I had a drivers license. It was restricted of course, but they allowed me to. Both my parents had a vehicle, but I never went anywhere. Where would I go? I had no social life. Very few friends. I wouldn’t meet Dillian for a few years. I wasn’t really talking to anyone in those days. Shrinks mostly. Words of reassurance to my mother I wasn’t going crazy. She helped me with whatever I wanted. Pills. Booz. One or both of them smoked weed, so at some point I just decided to come a little more clean and just admit I was having a problem, but I told them almost nothing. Just enough to get them on my side. Crazy, wild nightmares I couldn’t deal with. Yeah. Something like that. It’s amazing what a parents love will get you.

He was especially impressed with the way I had handled things. Now I had the keys to the kingdom. I could find a job. Something good. Then the real work could begin. If only I’d know what he meant by that. I remember I didn’t like the word work. Maybe it was the way he said it. Like it was something I was never going to get out of. I gave him long looks in the mirror while he ranted on about destiny and purpose. He said the blood was key. It was the way! The way out! All I had to do was take it. Take what was mine but take a life! Feel the power of that! Then you will know what it means to be alive!”

“So you chose your mystery woman. But you were smart. You strangled her as apposed to, other methods. Was it a conscious decision, or was that just the way you ended up being able to do it?”

“I was riding my bike. It was late. I saw her walking near a park not far from my house. I tracked her from the shadows. She was young and interesting. I wanted to touch her. He said all I had to do was push her down. He said punch her in the head so she won’t make noise. If she won’t shut up, do it again. So I did that and by god it worked. She hit her head good just going down. Already there was blood. The blow stunned her. She hadn’t made much of a sound. I shook her head up and down against the concrete path a few times. More times than I should have probably. She was in a bad way, but still alive. She spit blood in my face, it was effective weather in disgrace or involuntary. It sent me into a blinding, hysterical, hormone infused rage. As I said, I strangled her. Some item of clothing she had, whatever it was. It was nothing I’d had on me. She was just in the right place. It was my time. My beginning. He made me do things to her. I tortured that young soul. I took her to the edge and brought her back several times. I held her very life in the palm of my hand. Her begging eyes are forever burned into my brain. It’s funny, she’s really one of the few I think about at all, there’s just been so many now it’s pointless talking about it. I’m mad! But I do always remember the first. I tied that fabric around her neck and just kept squeezing. She bled and gasped. She tried to fight, but the injury to her head had kept her from getting out of control. I kept her just alive enough to f**k her. That was good. I did it, all the way deep inside her. I came as she died. It was the most amazing moment in my life. For an instant, one moment, The darkness was gone and I was in peace.

In the next instant, it was poring rain and I was kneeling over the body of a dead woman. I remember how shocked and surprised and confused I was. I couldn’t remember doing it, but I knew I had done something bad. I didn’t see him anywhere. I felt alone, scaired. I began to cry. I lifted her slightly and tried to wake her. I touched her head. She was cold. I loosened the fabric. I even gave her cpr, but it was no use. I’d weakened her too much. Now my game was over. I won and I’d received my reward, fleeting as it was. I felt isolated and betrayed. He said things would get better. Some things did, as time went on but others got much much worse. Magic, is a curse.”

“You cried. That’s a little difficult to imagine, coming from someone who collects his victims blood. They’ve been close to you on a number of occasions, I know. But you always flee. You are never where they look, but sometimes you leave things behind. You can’t always take everything with you. A jar for every soul. Well, you’d need a fifty foot trailer. Here’s some pictures. Places you might remember. This one I think is my favorite. Beach house, with a deep dark secret. How many jars did they pull out of that hole? Was it 200?” “Two-hundred eight. I didn’t know anyone was counting. That’s not what people think. No one kills to get the high score. It’s not a game. But all killing is not the same. I never killed thinking things would spiral out of control how they did. I was unprepared for Dillan’s strength. His willingness to see things through. I might have taken things, just a little too far. The boy, damn. But he was sloppy. His lust for it found form and even early on I was concerned, maybe I’d pushed him too far. It’s funny, he used to make that joke. Said he could easily kill more people than me. I would just frown at him and shake my head. Dillan was the type of person that was always letting you know what was on your mind. He put everything out front. I’m a lot different from him, but I saw something in him. I felt a little stronger when we were together. He helped me, maybe, come out of my shell a little, but at the same time I was corrupting his mind and body with worldly pleasures.

The jars. (laughing) I couldn’t tell you exactly when I started doing that. I started doing it, I think, because I wanted to take something from them no one would miss. If I took a ring or something there’s always a chance it might come back to haunt me, but not blood. But, as you’ve seen, sometimes I got a little out of control.”

“The larger jars. You literally let them drip to death.”

“Patience, Dr. Elizabeth. Patience is the only thing that has gotten me this far. I should be dead a thousand times, yet here I am. With any luck this will be our last conversation. It’s not even really me you want to talk to. Dillan. Now, there’s a story. I can’t do anything more. I tried. I really did. I tried with him. I-tried to get him to fight.

“Fight what?”

“The same thing I was. Dillian was normal. I was not, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous. My scars were obvious. His were on the inside. We were looking for the same things I guess, but for a long time we were just regular friends.

“You mentioned you told him your secret. Was that when things changed?”

“No. Thing’s started to escalate after I turned 18. My parents got me a car. It was something they came up with, I guess to make me feel like an adult but I never went anywhere. Not for lack of money, I just had very few friends and no real social life. Having a vehicle did provide me one opportunity, It allowed me to expand my circle of death. I was very cognoscente of the reality of what I was doing. Killing animals was one thing and even that was bad and could have landed me in jail, but killing a person is very different. It has a different feel to it. Almost as if you can feel the spirit of the person clawing uselessly through you from the other side. I did nothing for a while after that. The police came to all the houses, but there were never any suspects. They even interviewed me, but they were more than happy the leave my presence after a short time. I could not blame them, but in that moment I saw what he was talking about. They would never suspect the burn victim. They never did. It was suggested to me I try it again. After some debate, I decided to.

The second time I killed went much like the first. It was at night. I was on my bike. I had nothing save the swiss army knife my father gave me. The knife on those are very very sharp. So I did it. It happened fast and it was easy. Just another night walker. I passed him, then circled back. He passed by an ally between blocks. That’s where I got him. I just left him there. I remember it made the news, but that was a ways away from home and no one ever came to the house. I was scaired. There has always been a part of me that wants to get caught. I guess that never goes away.”

“Why didn’t you just turn yourself in? Get help? You obviously weren’t working on a defense.”

“No you’re right about that. I knew what I was, but as time went on it became increasingly more difficult to control. The more I succeeded, the more I wanted to try. I was risking everything, but he just kept pushing me. He wouldn’t stop. I even knew I was talking to myself, but that didn’t stop me. The only way to shut him up at all was to spill blood. So I did. Turning myself in was too big a risk. At the very lest I would lose my freedom and maybe my life. I never took the notion seriously.

“So, at some point, you let Dillan in on your secret.”

“I made Dillan the person I wanted to be. We got women together. He really helped me a lot. I can’t remember exactly when and where I explained things to him, but I do remember the first time he saw me kill. I’ll never forget the pale look of shock on his face. His vibrating, unblinking eyes. He wasn’t taking me seriously but all that changed. I had explained to him earlier that if he came with me and I killed in front of him that he would be in trouble too if he said anything. He never did, god bless him. Instead, he helped me. He helped me begin! After a while though, it was not enough for him just to stand guard, or act as distraction whilst I went in for the kill. He wanted a piece of the action. He wanted to feel what he saw in my eyes when I did it. I tried to dissuade him, but I was very unconvincing. So we-started taking turns. It got ugly.

“Ugly how?”

“I tried to keep things fast and neat. Dillian on the other hand, his pent up aggressive nature found an endless fuel in the spraying of human blood. He tended to go for the gut. Sometimes he would just get way out of control. News media in different states were reporting on our exploits. Once in a while we would even make cable news, mostly in times when Dillian was doing it. We drove farther and farther away.

“No! How can any of them still be alive! Crazy! The whole thing is just-just fine. Remember this is what we want! You say we just should continue on. Well we’re well past that now. Killing isn’t enough now! Huh! Now we take extra risks! I’m just so tired of having these one sided conversations. Would it be too much to ask just to put a bullet in my mouth.”

“We both know how unsatisfying that would be-and messy. Let them come. Let them come get you! Get you! No. No one gets you. Look at everything you have accomplished. All the warm souls you’ve carried in your grasp. We have been through so much together. There is so much more we can accomplish Darius. Son! Just give things a little more time.”

“But that’s all I do!”

“Silence!”

“No.”

“Do. As I say. Let them think they stand a chance. Let them die. Slowly. Then you can do it again. It’s the perfect way. The only way. You can have your life. This illusory thing you feel you’ve never had, or was cheated out of. You are not the monster you show yourself to be.”

“I am a monster. So are you. Don’t try and mess with me. I know exactly what we are.”

“I know you believe you can get rid of me for good. Is the only real solution for you the blowing out of your precious brains. That will shut me up but will it really cleans you? Will it save your soul from it’s inexorable, firy doom. It’s coming you know. Doom. You want to die Darius. You’ve wanted to for a long time now I know. But fortunately we both get a say in what happens. Sometimes I feel like I’m the one holding everything together.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Well! F**k! Where’s your balls! This was supposed to be fun. Give him something new to do. You did all the f*****g research!”

“I know! Dammnit! Ahhhhhhhhh! I want you out!-of my head!”

“They will die! Don’t worry. There’s still time. Our dear friend is just full of ideas. How would you stop him? Shoot him? Could you kill your only friend? After this long. Everything we’ve been through together? The legacy! The time! The energy! The freedom! They will be talking about us for decades. We should draw them a f*****g map, but it would take forever and how would we even remember. All the places we have been. All the rest stops. All the hookers. All the f***s we never paid for. Those were the days! We can have them again you know. We just have to give the man something of his own. Make him see he doesn’t need us anymore. He likes this game. Something like this is better, more structured. They die. He just has to find the bodies. Clean and simple. We should have thought of this s**t. You insist on carving everything to s**t. You know I hate when you can’t control yourself.”

“You just never mind what I do. You watch what you do. I’m the one keeping us alive. You’d have slit our throats years ago I know that. F*****g animal. Wolf! Wooo Hooo Hoooo! Ha ha ha! It’s funny, how many times they’ve said that. They’ve even said it when we’ve been fucked up and left things. Left the knife! They almost never say it. It’s like they’re afraid to admit their own reality. A reality in which there is a person in their midst who wants to literally cut you to shreds. It frightens people. It should. A man passes through. A few people die. Things return to normal. It’s very difficult to hide a body that stays hidden. The pros don’t even bother. Why take the time. We’ve been very good and very good at what we do.”

“I’m too old now. So are you. I just want it to be over. You promised. You said if I helped him do this you would give it to me. You would give me the key. You would let me have my salvation. Please! Please I beg you!

Author's Note

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