The Escape, and Small Town USA.

The event was as dangerous as I thought it was going to be. I really expected nothing less. “Where are we going,” Windy had asked in her new found frantic voice. “We're still going to Salem, but we have to escape these monsters first.” She nodded at me and looked back out to the destruction that was befalling this small town of Bloomington Indiana. I feel wholly responsible for the chaos that has consumed this town. I looked ahead and focused all my concentration on not wrecking the car. One thing that Hell doesn't have is tracking. They have to find their information like every other Government or State; spies and general espionage. I have this sinking feeling that the old man I killed back in room 304 was an agent from the underworld. “How does he know all of this?” you may be asking yourself, well honestly I can't answer that. I start remembering things that I have no business remembering, like war meetings in little cave-like rooms. I even remember what they look like, and I really wish I didn't. Was I there when all of this happened? I don't know, but I do know the sooner I get this over with the sooner I can go back to having a somewhat normal life.

Windy was shuttering at the sight of all of this anarchy that has ensued. It's understandable why because we weren't staring at monsters; we were staring at 100s of possessed people rioting in the street. Windy told me she cast a small protective spell over the car and the smell of the incense she used still perforated the air. I can't really say I'm not thankful, but this smell is nauseating. From how she puts it, magic doesn't work with wands or staves; it works by the natural energy that surrounds the human body. Essentially what she was telling me was that the word magic is just a fancy word for advanced psychokinetic. We look at the world in our own fantasy way, and that's how we identify things we don't understand. “I don't think they can find us because of your chant,” I said to her. “You're welcome,” she said to me. I nodded my head as if to say thank you, and honestly that was the closest thing she was getting to gratitude. At that moment a seemingly homeless individual stopped in front of the car and looked at us. I honked the horn, and he proceeded to cut his neck and spray blood all over the car window. “OH MY GOD,” Windy screamed. I turned on the windshield wipers and just shook my head. “We need to get out of this town,” I muttered. I pressed the peddle down to the floor and went as fast as I possibly could, which wasn't very fast considering this was a beat up old car. It must have been Windy's birthday present when she turned 16.

We finally reached the end of the town and got onto the 45 interstate. The Denny's restaurant next to the four way was completely in flames, and the holiday inn that was across the street looked derelict and abandoned. I followed the interstate out of town and noticed a sign saying Ellettsville, which to my memory was more north of Bloomington. I was happy to leave that place behind me, and I think Windy is still suffering a bit of shell shock; she will survive, though. “Where are we headed now,” Windy said after we got to the outskirts of Ellettsville. I pondered this question for a moment, “this isn't a very big town, I think we can go right through it.” “But we haven't slept in over 20 hours,” Windy rebutted. I really didn't want to stay here, but honestly, if we were going to sleep somewhere, this would be the place. It's really small, and it reminded me of where I grew up. I feel sort of cathartic here, “okay, we can stay here for the night.” I went to find the closest hotel or motel. I knew I needed some place to work for now anyway. As long as the demons don't find us here, we can stay for a day and a half at most. I drove around until we finally came to an inn.