Exposition of the Undead, Part 4

Going back to modern day in my vampire story epic, I write the backstories to all of the vampire hunters on their journey and how they were introduced to this vampire plague.

Steve

            Money.  It is the centerpiece of the entire world.  Every once in a great while a man can come from humble modest beginnings, turn his life around and set course for a better future.  One can rise from the ashes and carve his own path in history.  This is what motivated Steve as he graduated.  Saying goodbye to old chums and the occasional adversary lay a burden on him but it only had been temporary.  The importance of it all was to harbor a name for himself.  His parents adored him and understood that their son was meant for great accomplishments.  Taking a bunch of extracurricular classes and prep courses, he primed himself even when he was younger for excellence.

            Well after graduation he said his goodbyes and all of them parted ways.  He envisioned somewhere down the line he would run into a random face, wave and say ‘hi,’ and that would be it.  Man, how times changed for him quickly like a drop of a dime.  He enrolled at Loyola University, the college where any father would be proud of his son’s accomplishments.  His mother and father were thrilled when the acceptance letter came in the mail early in the morning.  A couple of his friends congratulated him at the small graduation party that his parents threw for him.  They bought a few balloons, a small cake, his favorite pasta dish he loved to engorge, even his sister cried and gave him a big hug knowing that her much older brother had his eyes set on the prize of a lifetime.  Philip, the easy going but sometimes aloof friend, cracked a smile seeing his friend move onto too much grander things.  Hector shared a nice cold beer with him, tipping and bouncing tips as if he was setting sails for the high seas.  Even Brett showed up, all cynical but holding back a tear and shrugging it off when he grumbled ‘make sure you send those preppy girls my way.’

            It was all fun and games but he promised during Thanksgiving break and the Christmas season that they should all come together and catch up on old times.  Just as the party ended he asked his sister if she could take a picture of all four them and they all put their arms around each other when the flash went off.  A week later the photo was developed and stuffed inside his luggage a week afterwards when his parents drove him to the Loyola campus.  His mom kissed him goodbye, his dad shook his hand, and his sister never wanted their hug to end.  He was off on his own now starting the next chapter of his life.  When he unpacked all of his luggage, bought his books, set up his dormitory just the way he wanted it to look, he placed that high school picture of the best friends any 18 year old could ever dream of having on his dorm corner desk.  He stapled the picture on the corkboard planner upon his wall, the one that he used every day of his college career.  The last time Steve reminisced about that picture was ten years ago when he entered college as a freshman.  Man, how time flies by, Steve wondered.

            The four years of college flew by like a bird sailing in an open breeze.  From all the hard work and determination, his tenacity was paying off.  The wondrous adventure he partook landed him an esteemed college experience.  Creating a name for himself with credited professors and achieving astronomical grades landed him job opportunity after job opportunity.  Firstly, he started in the accounting undergrad program where his professors lauded his performance.  Amiss making new friendships, joining the Loyola hockey league, being accepted into a highly acclaimed fraternity, working to land a spot in the top 20 of the dean’s list, his parents were thrilled to witness their son excelling so well.  Steve truly painted a picture of the future he wanted, and he enjoyed every second of it.

            When he found his niche, he applied for an internship program his junior year.  Switching from accounting to economics to law proved to be quite a tiresome task.  But Steve was up for the challenge.  The internship allowed him to work underneath stockbrokers and investment bankers, and he learned at a rapid pace becoming friends with attorneys and lawyers.  His newfound friends overlooked his astounding performance, so they supported his decision to take the bar exam after he received his diploma.  When he called back home and told his parents the good news, his mom brightened up with joy and the only thing his father asked was “have you found a nice girl yet?”  Steve chuckled at his dad’s rugged and down-to-earth tone.

            A nice girl.  That was a different story.  Back when he got hazed and ridiculed by his future frat brothers, he passed all the ridiculousness that came with joining a brotherhood.  Of course, drinking undoubtedly became second nature.  By sophomore year, the stoic and barbaric structure of the frat house became his new home.  Oh, the drunken tirades and late-night parties, left little to the imagination and just like every other college-bound yuppie, he reveled in all of its bong-ripped stupor.  The countless number of friends he shared precious memories with would last a lifetime.  And that was how he met Angie.  Just another random Saturday night festivity and the beer ran cold and the smoke hung in the air, she stood out like a sore thumb.  A glimmer in his eye sparked when he caught her attention.

            They would spend hours being young and dumb, hooting and hollering from doing shots and playing strip poker.  His jock infested friends begged for Angie to take her shirt off, and she complied and played along.  Witnessing such a magnificent sight from her body down to her winning personality, he got hooked and hooked fast.  Frat brothers constantly berated him over and over, ‘Bro, she’s a keeper.  Never let her out of your sight.’  He thought maybe it was the booze talking cause they all at one time attempted to make a move on her, however, Steve had been the only one to catch her heart.  He heard his dad’s promising yell radiate in his mind like a record skipping on repeat, “That a’ boy…that a’ boy…that a’ boy.” 

            But not all was fun in games.  On their first date Steve took her to a miniature golf range and he let her win on purpose.  Her eyes squinted harrowingly at him piercing into his soul knowing full well he let her win.  Later she called him out on his bullshit and they laughed together.  Beautiful and smart, a deadly combination, but Steve could not care less.  He had been wrapped around her little finger from when he first laid eyes on her.  She was his and he was hers.  Add on the passing of the bar exam and being promoted to a law firm in the internship program, and her passionate drive to become a registered nurse practitioner, he truly had everything he wanted plus more.

            After his four-year stint at Loyola, he and Angie properly tied the knot and admonished each other in a grandiose wedding ceremony.  It occurred during the point in his life when he aced the bar exam and that was the first time he met the in-laws.  Out of all but the two years they dated, he did not recognize that Angie’s father was the executive director of PrimoTech, a highly respected medical company that specialized in the advancement of pharmaceuticals and nursing equipment.  He never even questioned his wife’s background or her home life, I think love struck him blind and none of that mattered to him.  Of course, his own dad embarrassed him at the wedding by getting hammered on expensive wine that only the very wealthy consumed.  He shook his head and shrugged it off as he always did.  His mother wept and cried when the pronouncement of husband and wife vibrated off the church’s walls.  Over four hundred people attended their wedding, and the reception exploded in vibrant occupancy.  His frat brothers kept nudging him and whispered in his ear, ‘Wait for the honeymoon…you’ll never make it out of the bedroom.’  So many people showed up, uncles, aunts, cousins, even one crazy guy who thought it would be funny to go streaking.  But amidst the dazzling ceremony that was their wedding, he never saw one of his high school friends…not one…and it made him think for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, what all his old friends were doing at that very moment.

            The honeymoon lasted over a month, or maybe that was what Steve envisioned.  Both he and Angie consummated their marriage down in Hawaii.  Part of him never dreamed of leaving, but Angie, being strong and independent, forced him to reconsider.  He guessed all the sexual incursions and kinky roleplaying screwed his head back on straight.  That was when the next miracle birthed itself into Steve’s life.  His daughter, Patty, came upon this earth with rosy cheeks and forested green eyes just like her dad.  A spotting image of both him and his father, and the more laid-back attitude came from him as well.  His whole life turned 180 degrees when the new addition unfolded into the picture.  Now it was all about her, and he would give her every opportunity he never had growing up.

            Being born into a middle-class blue-collar family had its advantages, and there was nothing wrong with a modest humble nine-to-five lifestyle.  But Steve yearned for more, but he never forgot let alone held a grudge on his own personal background.  His parents allowed him to live and work for his own life, and he took full advantage of his environment.  Patty had been the apple of his eye and the only reason why he became one of the top attorneys for PrimoTech was for her.  Over the years he took her to go see baseball games, taught her to play hockey at a young age, showed her how to win at blackjack when she was only three years old, allowed her stay up and watch Friday the 13^th even though her daddy covered her eyes during nude scenes.  Somehow his wife, Angie, did not share the same sediment. 

            No marriage is a walk in the park.  It takes time and patience, trials and effort, to transform the marriage into what each partner wants.  The wife throws her two cents in, the husband lobs in his five cents, and they should come to an agreement.  But down the road of raising only one child and working like a bulldog, being hounded by PrimoTech higher ups, his boss pulling back on his hours, Angie turned into someone who used to be fun and outgoing into cold, hard, and calculating.  She started to interfere with his work and a couple of trial cases he had been assigned to prosecute, that’s when he knew something was amiss.

            “Honey,” Angie sprouted her veracious tongue, “If I told you once, I told you thousand times.  I don’t want you speaking to those kinds of children.”

            Patty coiled in despair retreating to her oversized bedroom.  She had all the toys any child could possibly dream of having.  All the amenities that came from living with a renowned prosecuting lawyer and registered nurse, she was given the world with her father and mother’s income combined.  Their 3,000 square foot house left them greasing the top echelon of upper-class suburbia.  However, Steve’s humble background spoke volumes and Angie’s outspoken nature divided the father-daughter relationship.

            “But mommy they’re my friends and besides I want to play softball.  I really really like the sport.  Daddy played it too when he was my age,” Steve stood by the door frame, hands folded over his chest listening intently as his daughter said her piece.  Another common argument they casually initiated because his daughter was growing up.

            “But honey, those other kids do not have the same opportunities that you do.  You have chances that we…your dad never had growing up.  That is why I want to enroll you in computer camp because I want you to be smart when you grow up to be a big girl.  That’s what grandpa did with me when I was just a little older than you, and look how your mommy turned out,” Angie spoke more like a warden than a mother, Steve thought to himself.  But he just smiled and winked at his little angel and Patty noticed her dad and stared knowingly into his eyes.

            “Angie,” Steve stood up straightly and directed his speech toward his wife, “Let Patty join the junior softball league.  She loves to play and it’s not like she is going to get hurt or anything like that.  Besides a little competition and socializing might be good for her.  I know Patty is only seven years old but playing softball or any sport for that matter will give her life experience.  Besides…” Steve rubbed his right shoulder, “She has one hell of a curve ball.”  After the last comment Patty, the spec of his eye, giggled from the dad joke.

            “We’ll talk about this later,” Angie said harshly, and she marched down the spiraling staircase leading into the master kitchen to make dinner.  Steve sighed and picked up one of his daughter’s toys after his wife completely shut down the discussion.  Patty looked so cute wearing her Dodger’s ball cap that her dad bought her just a year prior when they saw beat Oakland 6-3.

            “Daddy, can I play softball?” Patty quietly uttered as she made across to her bed.

            “Of course you can,” Steve plopped down next to his daughter squishing her sheets underneath, “Mommy is just going through one of her moods again.”

            “Sometimes I hear you guys arguing at night, is everything okay, daddy?”

            “Your mom and I are going through a rough patch right now,” Steve took off his daughter’s baseball cap and brushed her curly blonde hair.  Funny, he thought, she has my hair and my eyes, and took no genetic marker from Angie, “But it’s nothing you should worry about.  I’m always here and you can talk to me about anything.  You know you are my special buddy, right?”

            Patty’s eyes lit up like the fourth of July.  She could always tell things to her dad than she would not even dream of saying to her mom.  Her eyes squinted and cheeks blushed, her little face scrunched up with delight, “Yeah, I know.  I just wish mommy would listen more.”

            “Me too, sport…me too,” Steve rose up vehemently and walked towards the door.  When he reached the hallway he turned around towards his daughter, “Well, dinner’s in about half an hour, don’t be late or I’ll ground you till your 20.”  Steve laughed as he pranced down the stairs and Patty giggled more.  Patty and her dad’s bond stood the test of time, and nothing ever came in the middle of it. 

            Dinner that evening was quite uneventful and most of it was spent in silence.  Few words were spoken between Steve and his wife, Angie.  Patty did most of the talking, about how she hated one of the classes she took, her friends wanted to throw a Halloween party come October, Angie butting in to what Patty stated clearly.  Steve sat quietly eating in mostly silent reverie.  That night a storm came brewing between him and Angie, his foresight allowed him to see it come from a mile away.  When all the lights dulled down for the night, Patty sound asleep in her bedroom, trash thrown into the waste baskets, the married couple remained awake in bed to talk about what happened earlier that day.

            “I do not appreciate you not having my back when we’re discussing something important,” Angie muttered as she dressed herself in a pair of tight yoga pants and a flowing black tee shirt.

            “I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Steve said while he muted the television set where the Chicago Blackhawks and Minnesota Wild played well into the last period of the close-scoring game.  The score flashed 3 to 2 in Chicago’s favor, “Our little girl is growing up and if she wants to play in her softball league at school, there is no harm in that.  Besides…I’d rather have her get out there on the field, making new friends, learning sportsmanship and how to be a part of a team, actually be out there in the world.  It’s healthy for kids that age.”

            “Well, I don’t want my daughter growing up acting like a tomboy for the rest of her life, Steve,” Angie’s voice rose gradually and methodically, “I want her to be able to stand on her own two feet.  So she can be strong as she gets older, to be able to get a high profile job when she graduates college like we did, to be independent in this competitive world we live in.”

            Steve rested on the bed looking to and from the tv then back to his wife, “I agree with everything you say,” he explained as he turned off the hockey game that went into overtime, but he knew his wife would never let him hear the end of the argument, “But you have to remember, she’s only seven years old.  She’s practically still a child and not even in high school yet.  And wait until she becomes a teenager…now that right there is a scary sight to imagine.”  Steve managed to make light of their situation but the look Angie gave him as she crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest told a different story.

            “Listen, honey,” Angie’s voice heightened in tone and intensity, “I understand that a father and daughter’s relationship is a precious one.  However, I want all the great opportunities that I grew up with.  I want Patty to become successful in life, to have a prestigious career when she hits our age.  Why else do you think I enrolled her in after-school courses and that computer camp I showed you from the brochure?  Why I placed her in the excelled program for highly exceptional children?  We should be looking at the big picture here.  I want to send her to St. Catherine’s Academy for young intelligent woman like her for high school.”

            Steve’s jaw dropped and his eyes peered into hers as a deer in headlights, “I understand you want all of that for Patty.  But as of right now, she is still only a child.  Besides…there is nothing wrong with being a normal kid,” Steve barely moved as he leaned against the elongated headboard, “She wants to go out, hang out with kids her age at the movies, ride bikes, have slumber parties, talk about boys they like in their grade, and all that fun stuff.  I mean look at me…”  Steve finally spoke up for himself and the second love of his life, the apple of his eye who fell from the same genetic tree as him.

            “I attended public schools my entire life.  I never grew up with the same privileges as you did.  You met my parents hundreds of times.  My dad worked for thirty-five years as a union contractor and my mom stayed at home to raise me and my sister.  Of course, times were tough and money became tight as we got older, but my father made sure to have a roof over our head.  My parents tried to give me the best life they never had and they harbored down and saved all the money they could.  My sister and I led pretty much normal lives.  Lots of friends, playing baseball, getting into trouble, meeting my first girlfriend as I got older, took camping trips in Michigan, went fishing with my dad when I was ten years old…” Steve droned out in his little rant as he paced back and forth inside the enlarged master bedroom, “…and look how I turned out.  I think Patty deep down wants to be a normal girl and do all the things those public-school children do all the time.  So, if she wants to join the intermediary softball league, I think we should let her.  Let her socialize with normal kids and see how the other half lives.  The way I see it, no harm, no foul.”

            “Well, you had your five minutes of personal perspective,” Angie’s tone changed from subtle to demanding.  Her eyes glinted with frustration, “Now I get my five minutes.  Here is what is going to happen around here.  I am going to get Patty a private tutor to increase her studies and learn a more extensive vocabulary,” Angie paused, “No more of this buddy-buddy back talk between you two.  You two sound like inner city hoodies,” Angie’s footsteps marched towards her hope chest on top of their most expensive dresser in the entire house, “I have already been talking to a nanny service.  There is so much extra work that needs to be done.  With my schedule down at the hospital, and the two new cases you picked up at the firm, time around here has been stagnating.  And the best part…Patty will be supervised when we’re not at home.  No more of this going over across the street and spend the afternoon with that low-life family that lives down the block.  I still think their daughter is a bad influence on Patty.  Everything will work out the way it should because one of the volunteers at the nanny service just so happens to be an old friend of mine.”

            Steve stood there unmoving with his jaw agape.  His eyes held a somber note as he nodded in agreement.  Apparently over the course of the last couple of years, Angie planted her foot down more than once.  Angie, the love of his life, always got her way and then some.  Even though Steve and his wife worked together as a team most of the time, every once and a while, Angie sparked herself into the forefront and Steve wallowed on the backburner.  Their marriage started like that of a perfect union, a well-adjusted team.  But slowly his wife grew a pair of horns, the battle axe emerged, and Steve zipped his lips on a lot of issues that came between them.

            What was even more disturbing, Angie lain awake in her bed with tears streaming down her face.  She remembered a time when her parents did not argue or fight or debate.  Oh, how she wished her own mother would calm down and let her be a kid.  At least her own dad agreed with her.  He showed her how to swing her first bat at softball practice, how to swim in their cemented built-in pool in the backyard, how to ride her first bike until the day came when Steve unscrewed the training wheels off.  All those engrained memories made her cry because her mommy refused to allow her to just have fun.  She heard every word her parents debated about, and she placed the ballcap on her head.  An hour later she fell deeply asleep dreaming about a monster that lurked inside of her closet and when the door creaked open, she only saw her mommy’s eyes glaring back at her.

            The next three years of Steve and Angie’s marriage blurred before his eyes like a broken picture that curled at its sides and mold covered the brittle edges.  Time flew as Patty went from being a normal seven-year-old to a splitting image of her mother by the age of ten.  In that amount of time Steve worked endlessly making sure every facet of his law firm managed to perfection.  Meanwhile, he neglected his home life with precarious precision.  He focused entirely on one prosecuting case after another.  Angie on the other hand spent countless hours treating Patty no longer like a child growing up but a teenager on her way to college in the Fall. 

            Steve never got his way after that argument where his wife stomped her foot down and put an end to her daughter’s softball league.  Angie walled herself in her private cocoon where only she and her daughter existed.  Steve was still the father and remained Angie’s husband, but his suggestions and advice fell on deaf ears when it came to rearing their child.  So Steve did what came naturally to him, indulge himself in a bunch of court cases, law disputes, board annual transgressions, large corporate loan hearings, etc.  His work load was astounding and every time he won a case, the firm lauded him with praise and an increase in his yearly salary. 

            “Another one in proverbial basketball net,” his partner at the firm who had been a district attorney and personal correspondent spoke to Steve, “They call you a maverick in the courtroom, Steve.  Keep on doing what you do best, and you might get my job one day, working down at DC, drinking the most expensive scotch you ever tasted, and any woman you could possibly dream of.”

            Steve cocked his head up to his friend of the past five years.  Sternness and a perturbed look plastered on his face.  They walked down the elaborate corridor emptying into a lofty million-dollar lobby, rode the elevator up to the thirteenth floor, dumped their suitcases on each of their perspective desks, and now they cordially chit-chatted in the conference room, “You know I’m happily married, right?”

            “Keep on telling yourself that, buddy,” his partner croaked at him, “Listen Angie is a great woman and a wonderful mother.  But you even said it yourself, ‘she isn’t the same person compared to when you two got married.’  I understand you two are going through a rough patch in your marriage right now, and she is fiercely competitive and undeniably driven but things eventually will get better.”

            “No, none of those aspects of her ever bothered me personally,” Steve rocked back and forth in one of the conference room chairs, “That’s what I loved about her from the very beginning.  All of the other woman back in the college were either loose or wanted to get with every able man they would dig their claws into.  Or they were the closeted nerdy type who would never even talk to a frat boy like me.  Angie did not care about any of that.  She knew I wanted to be lawyer and always supported me in my decisions.”

            “Well then what seems to be the problem?” his partner sounded concerned as he sat adjacent to his friend at the empty committee table.

            “It’s other things, weird instances I cannot explain,” Steve sighed and his hand began to shake, “You remember how I told you Angie paid for a private tutor for Patty about a year ago?  Well, a couple of months ago I noticed something strange.  I left for work early one day to go pick up Patty for her one-hour meeting with the tutor.  This new private school that Patty attends is all posh and debonair and all that jazz.  I go inside, walk down these long brooding hallways…barely any artwork drawn by any students, no fliers or brochures or decorations for the spring dance coming up in a week…absolutely nothing.  It felt like I was walking through a mortuary.  I finally showed up to the classroom where Patty has her one-one-one sessions with the tutor three days out of the week.  I said my ‘hellos’ and asked her ‘how is my daughter doing’, blah blah blah.  There was an instant when she turned to grab a piece of paper, and her eyes flashed a different color.  Her eyes are a nice shade of blue but for one split second, I saw them flash to solid black as two rocks of coal and then back again.  It freaked me out so much I hardly said a word back to the car.  Patty looked depressed and I tried to talk to her about her homework, how school was doing, I even mentioned the two of us should go grab an ice cream cone and Patty’s voice came out monotone, only saying one word answers the entire ride home.

            “And that is only the tip of the iceberg.  Our nanny that Angie hired two years ago started off being so sweet, energetic, and encouraging.  I was so glad that the nanny had a down-to-earth attitude, treated Patty more like a friend, took her on hikes through the woods and rode bikes with her.  Things began to change six months ago with the nanny and her behavior switched gears.  The look on Patty’s face seems so distant when the nanny goes around our house cleaning, doing laundry, cooking, and other things.  A week ago, I saw the nanny out in our backyard just staring out into the woods behind our house almost like she saw a ghost or something.  I guess she had been drinking because a glass of wine sat on our kitchen table.  I thought to myself, when did she start drinking?  Did she buy a bottle and store it in our fridge?  Maybe Angie allowed her to grab a drink from our basement bar?  The glass of wine did not look like normal red wine…the liquid appeared thicker and smudged on the sides of the rim.  I reached over and took a whiff of it, the aroma smelled horrible.  I dipped my pinky into the glass and dabbed it on my tongue.  It tasted not like wine…it was blood.  Salty, coarse, rancid blood.”

            His partner smirked and then busted into laughter.  His hands pounded on his own chest and shook his head looking like an umpire calling the big game.  Steve straightened his posture in the chair, but his partner howled in impervious laughter.  His partner’s head cocked back as the laughter died down to a whimper.  Walking over to Steve he patted his friend’s shoulder, “You know how to make an old college buddy laugh.  Dude…bro…you always told the best stories.  If what you say is true, which, personally, I think you might be pulling my chain, I would tell you to lighten up and get some rest.  You have been working long hours and I caught you once or twice sleeping in the office.  Maybe everything you just told me are figments of your imagination or you fantasized these instances in a dream.  Because I can say honestly, as a dear friend who has known you since grad school, you need to have a regular night’s sleep.  You should go home tonight, kick off your shoes, turn on the ball game, and crash on the couch.  Hell…take the weekend off.  Spend quality time with Patty and relax,” his partner made a lot of sense because Steve doubted his rambling, “Seriously though, you need at least seven hours of sleeping like the living dead.”  By this time his partner started walking out of the conference room, a solitary chuckle rumbled as his friend walked away. 

            Maybe his friend had been correct.  Maybe what he witnessed was due to lack of sleep.  Maybe everything that transpired he imagined to himself when in reality it could have been actual wine, a flavor he never tasted before, and the tutor’s eyes most likely changed seasonally.  It does occur to a small percentage of people in the world.  He read it in a magazine once.  One of those pulp comics written in a column from a copy of Vogue or Rolling Stone.  This made Steve thirsty for a cup of coffee so he took off his suit jacket and placed it over his desk chair.  Taking the elevator down to the firm’s lobby, he glanced upward at the descending numbers which became unfocused.  His contacts bothered him today for unknown reasons.  When he returned up to the central offices, he would have to jot down a date to make an appointment to go see an optometrist.

            He briskly walked into the main lobby and entered the small coffee shop.  Working at a predominantly corporate law firm they could afford all the amenities that came with such a lavish position.  He ordered a small cup of joe, two sugars, one cream, the only way he drank his coffee ever since high school.  He surveyed the small rack of magazines, newspapers, pamphlets and columns.  One such magazine caught his obtuse gaze, and he whispered to himself, “Holy s**t.”

            His hand shook as he pulled the magazine off the rack.  A person whom he had not seen in over ten long pretentious years, Philip O’Rourke’s face plastered on the front cover of a copy of Spinster magazine.  A sentence underneath stated ‘Underground freelance writer captivates horror community with brand new excerpt.’  Steve cracked a wry smile as his friend stared back at him with those same glazed over eyes.

            Up back in the offices of the thirteenth floor, he read about his old high school buddy.  A short little exposition introduced the reader to a small backstory of the up-and-coming writer.  Most of what it read was true with a couple of sentences of nonsense mixed in.  The article his friend wrote contained mostly fantastical creatures, deep compelling heroes, and a quirky and zany adventure.  Steve grew astonished at the story he read.  Losing himself in the words of a friend whom he lost contact with years ago, he was thrilled that his friend achieved success.  It had been a long time since he dreamed about high school days.  Old friends lost in time as he sprouted up the ladder of success.  The last time he ever talked to or called the old gang he bummed around with during his days in the public school system was briefly before graduation.  The last time a thought came into fruition about Hector or Brett or Philip or Robert drifted into time and space acting like a bird disappearing behind a series of clouds.  At that very moment he thought of making a phone call to his hometown, but reality set in cue and his daughter’s wellbeing plagued his mind.

            Taking his friend’s advice, he decided to pack up his belongings and head home for the evening.  The sun dipped down into the high-rise of the downtown metropolis.  Corporate headquarters and state buildings aligned the scenery as Steve blankly gazed out of the office window.  He always felt so comfortable and at ease within the bustling commotion of this concrete jungle.  A chill rang down his forearm sending a shiver, and he squeezed his elbow.  A memory of pounding lockers, the ringing of next period’s bell, his friends swapping eerie spooky stories of the old janitor that haunted his old middle school hallways rushed into the back of his head.  Brett, the know-it-all cynic, Hector, the cool headed and smooth talker, Philip, the strong silent nerd, and Robert, the levelheaded athlete caught Steve by surprise.  A single tear formed on the crest of his right eyelid as he pondered where he stood amongst his old peers.  He sure hoped they all found a sense of happiness.  Because the flailing relationship with his wife, Angie, and the dwindling friendship with his daughter melted away like tainted glass. 

            As he made his ride home in his expensive Audi, he thought back upon more modest times when high school carefree attitudes danced like halos over their heads.  But this life is the one he worked for ever since college.  Of all the friendships made along the way from his fraternal days to a happy marriage to promotions of increased vernacular, life treated him pretty damn well.  However, old demons come into play and these memories had to be put to bed.  The entire ride to the estates in the richest part of the neighborhood breezed by as if Steve was in a haze.  He dreaded his house now, the immaculate domed entrance looked like something out of a Victorian castle and his three-car garage stood out like a sore thumb from the rest of the block.  Everything he always dreamed of yet Angie grew cold when he offered to install a basketball hoop for his daughter, she said it would attract too much attention.

            Angie slept soundly in her bed, and he barely disturbed his Sleeping Beauty.  His footsteps graced the carpet as he shuffled to grab his pajamas, the itinerary, and a crumbled newspaper.  He decided to sleep on the couch tonight due to the fact he had to leave first thing in the morning for the seminar.  An entire array of business owners, from law firms and financial institutions down to editorials and smaller venues, all held an exposition where they talked and interviewed perspective buyers and sellers.  He jotted some notes in his itinerary as he reviewed the companies that his firm conglomerated with.  The TV muted in the background displayed the latest Chicago Cubs score and he swore under his breath as the batter hit his second foul.  A purported thump came from upstairs as he heard his wife use the master bathroom.  Steve rolled his eyes as he finally unmuted the television set and passed out sprawled face first on the couch.

            The seminar had been in Michigan where he attended the state university many years back in his college days.  His alumni privileges along with his law firm status as an executive lawyer allowed him to fly first class.  It wasn’t as if he never used his frequent flier miles on several occasions.  From New York to California to Houston and Miami, his law firm obtained mergers nationwide and established headquarters in every major city from one coast to the other.  His executive position within the company made him viable for corporate flights all the time.  He would meet with other firms from other major cities, hold important legislative meetings aboard private jets that were bought and paid for by competitors.  This seminar was organized with other outlying firms as well as businesses.  Editorial newspapers, hotel mergers, textile conglomerates along with Rolling Stone, Time magazine, National Geographic and emerging start up companies all came together under one roof.

            The gigantic 747 landed in Detroit and an extravagant limousine waited outside for Steve the following day.  The three-hour flight only lasted a half hour, or so Steve imagined.  Being on his laptop and filling out reports and reviewing letters from special interest groups, the flight zoomed in time like a forceful gust carried him from Chicago to Detroit in a millisecond.  His job gave Steve no downtime, and time needed no measure to calculate.  Everything happens so fast as it always did.  Hop on a plane, land within a couple of hours, gather luggage, tip the limousine driver, check into the hotel (which was bought and paid for), then off to another corporate meeting but in this case the seminar dialed in.  The expo was always the event of the year but Steve treated this no differently than a regular business trip.  He was more worried about his daughter, Patty, where her mother pretty much planned out the rest of her life and Steve had no say in the matter.

            The seminar loomed in the distant as outlying companies paid a bucketload of prospectors off and hired a bunch of lower-level interns to handle the affairs of setting up the stage and organizing smaller venues.  It was never the big shots or high-up executive prospectors like Steve that had to endure the menial task.  He remembered when he first started in the firm, he had been one of the insignificant gophers.  But today he wore a nice black suit with an auburn tie to finish his garments.  He shook hands with all the proper presidents and VPs, mingled with CEOs from another law firm located in Seattle where they talked about another buyout in the city.  But Steve could go for a beer, a nice cold Coors Light.  Of course, open bars as far as the eye could see aligned the back wall of one of the lecture halls that resembled that of the pantheon.  Wines, chasers, top shelf whiskey and vodka all were offered to those who attended.  The gophers in any company had been charged an arm and a leg with the top executives being able to drink for no cost.

            Even as he drank the Coors he could not help but glance at many of the big screens adorning the lecture hall.  Yankees facing off against the White Sox, should be a good game he thought to himself.  He was quickly reminded of his old college days when he would not come to the frat house till about 3am in the morning drunk and blasted off of doing shots of tequila for an hour.  Other business owners and corporate financiers drank at the bar as well but most of them talked about how their business was either profitable or in debt.  They mostly bickered about payroll cost and bailouts but Steve concentrated on the 4 to 2 lead the Sox had on the big screen.  That was he noticed one of the people browsing two out of three venues in the corner of the oversized assembly hall.  Someone perusing the smaller independent expositions stood out like a sore thumb.  He briskly walked toward the man bypassing the main auditorium where one of the largest companies of the world was readying for their demonstration and smaller businesses sporadically lined up such as restaurants, coffee baristas, book and sell-thru merchandise markets that were up-and-coming ventures.

            The man looked older compared to the last time they met.  His hair combed back and started to gray on the sides.  He wore a beige sports coat and corduroy pants to match.  So informal of an outfit without even a tie to match, just a white linen button shirt.  Not even an expensive pair of business shoes let alone penny loafers, simple sneakers fastened on the man’s feet.  He stood merely ten feet away in awe.  He waited eagerly for the man to turn around and notice him, and occasionally, he saw the man snap his eyes in his direction where Steve stood.  Another couple of looks made the man finally c**k his head towards him.  The two men well into their late 20s blindly made eye contact.  Steve dressed in formal attire, his hair short and spiked on top due to copious amounts of hair gel, along with a black polyester vest underneath his proper suit that he just put on this morning after he left the hotel.

            At first the two men said nothing.  Even their eyes held big mysteries behind them.  Both were in shock as if they saw a ghost from their past come back to haunt them.  Then after about two minutes Steve’s face broke into a reminiscent smile.  The other man curled his lips into a dubious snarky attitude, the same they always did.

            “Philip…” Steve finally approached his old friend.

            “No s**t, Steve,” Philip addressed him forthright sizing him up and down to see how much weight he lost over the years and his aura seemed to glow with industry painted all around him, “Seemed like you moved up in the world.”

            “Oh this,” Steve lazily looked down at his suit, “This is just for show, I got my Blackhawks jersey out in the car,” Both friends laughed and finally shook hands, Steve’s grip still tight and Philip’s still relaxed as always.  Even after all these years, the humor had not dissipated, and it reminded them as if they were back in high school all over again.

            “It has been a long time,” Philip stood up proudly as if he is enduring a journey, “I think the last time I saw you was graduation, maybe a couple times after that.  What have you been up to?”

            Steve harrowingly looked at all the venues beginning to double in size and witnessed his own firm’s bosses talk to New York executives up on the stage, “Well, you see those big wigs up the stage all talking about company finances and court cases.  It just so happens I’m one of them.”

            Philip set his eyes upon the PrimoTech expo setting up their corporate tables, chairs, and podium at the main auditorium venue, “Wow.  I’m guessing…lawyer?”

            “Been with the company for close to eight years now,” Steve muttered under his breath than talked normally, “We mostly deal with corporate buyouts, mergers, company claims and disputes.  I guess I’m one the ten prosecuting attorneys they have under their belt.”

            “Well you were always the most driven one out of all of us,” Philip smiled at patted his friend on the back.  Steve began to laugh but choked back a bit.  Those remaining thoughts of high school rushed back into the manifold of his mind, and he asked one of purveyors that acted like waiters for another Coors.  Philip peeked out of the corner of his eye at his friend as he ordered a beer, and Philip interjected.

            “Excuse me ma’am, think I can order a whiskey sour?”  Philip languidly spoke and his stance straightened, “How about you buddy?”

            Steve eyed his old friend as if their senior year was short of yesterday.  He smirked and loosened up his posture as he unbuttoned his vest, “Make that four.  Two for me and two for my drinking partner,” He brought an arm around his old friend’s shoulder and Philip did not think twice as they both waltzed towards the bar, “Last time we drank we were blitzed on Jägermeister if I recall.”

            “I thought it was Jameson and bottom shelf Boone’s Farm,” Philip joined his friend as if they barely skipped a day for the past nine years and laughed in unison.

            They remained at the bar drinking and talked about the old days.  Classic memories, high school shenanigans, countless parties and sleepovers, video game binges and the like.  Steve ordered not just another round but three more rounds after that.  They commented on how old they looked, how Philip started to gray around the edges of his hair, and Steve cut off his goatee once he got accepted into law school.  Steve mentioned he got married towards the end of his college career and had a daughter conceived on their honeymoon.  Philip told his friend how he attended college but took a year off after high school to apply to community college instead.  They both made something of themselves when Steve told his old friend he became one of the most respected lawyers in the Midwest.  Philip explained to his old drinking partner that he enrolled in journalism and creative writing courses and sold some of his material he worked on over the years to independent magazines and publishers, that he hoped would be bestsellers but never gained renown until two years ago. 

            “So, everything seems to be going well for you,” Philip stuttered half drunkenly, his eyes starting to glaze over so he went from whiskey to beer to water.

            Even though they talked for over two hours, Steve kept eyeing his watch ever twenty minutes.  PrimoTech’s exposition and performance was not scheduled well into the evening hours so he could catch up with old friend for as long as he wanted, “Yeah…pretty much,” Steve burped loudly and they both laughed like hyenas with Steve rubbing his eyes like he did when he recovered from a hangover their junior year, “Some years are better than others, some…not so great.  But you’re in a similar business…” He belched again, “You know how it goes.”

            Philip nodded in agreement tipping his water to his friend and Steve hit the top of his beer against the luminescent plastic, “Oh trust me I know,” Philip realized how drunk he must be and looked over to Steve to see his eyes bloodshot, “It’s not just writing though,” Philip burped secondly, “I’ve done some freelance work in between.  A couple of research pieces and analysis articles that I submitted over the years.  Nothing that ever really hit…but one of them landed in National Geographic but was short lived.  The other landed into the National Inquirer, in which I made more money from than the legitimate one,” They both laughed and realized how drunk they actually were.

            “You were always the most creative person I knew, an out of the box thinker.  Not afraid to challenge the status quo.  Yeah…you were a little weird in high school.  But I love you nonetheless, nerd.”

            “You should be the one to talk.  We’ve been drinking close to…” Philip flipped open his cell phone and Steve laughed as he saw friend squint his eyes, “…well close to the point where we should slow down.  You…my friend, were always the most level headed out of our group, bound to do great things out of any one of us…and from the sounds of it,” Philip burped again and Steve chuckled, “You got a beautiful daughter whom you love and a loving wife that cares for you.  I cannot say that much of myself,” Philip raised his left hand and Steve caught wind of what he hinted at, “Never married.  Couple of girlfriends here and there but most of them were either one-night stands or too posh to put up with my ‘nerdy’ antics.”

            Steve wizened up a little even through the inebriation, “Yeah…well things may not be so great between me and the battleaxe,” Steve rotated on the barstool and Philip rolled around on his to catch his somber eyes, “There have been some ups and down in our marriage.  At first it was fantastic.  When my daughter, Patty, came along things couldn’t have been better.  But there are some weird things going on, Philip.”

            “Every marriage isn’t perfect,” Philip stated as he gulped down his water and asked for another one, “I think this world places such a high standard on what the perfect marriage or family should look like.  But behind closed doors and with numerous skeletons in the closet, every marriage is short of being perfect.  We all have demons to face, some people hide them better than others.  You know I write about that kind of spooky stuff…”

            “No, it’s nothing really like that.  Things have been happening in my life that I cannot explain.  I have seen things that I am not sure are true or not.  I tried telling one of my friends in the firm but he did not believe me.  Phil, you’re a good listener, you’ve always been one.  You were always willing to lend an ear and always gave the best advice,” Steve’s face changed from jovial to concern in less than a minute and Philip worried for his friend.

            “I’m here now.  Lay it on me.  See if I can make sense out of it.”

            And that’s how it all started.  Steve performed the same rant of horror that his partner at the firm heard.  Steve went into all the different details of what transpired.  He talked about his wife Angie, the private tutor, and the nanny they hired a while back.  Steve even added two other stories that made absolutely no sense to him.  One contained an event where he thought he saw his wife sleepwalking out to the middle of the woods behind their house in the middle of the night.  When he noticed that she had not been in bed, he ran outside to see what the matter and Angie dug a hole somewhere deep in the woods with her bare hands.  The second instance centered on his daughter.  She was casually hanging out with a handful of socialite friends, the yuppie and high-class type that turned off Steve’s modesty upbringing, at a sleepover.  When Steve offered to drive his daughter and friends to school the following day, he overheard them whispering among each other about the séance they did the previous night and how they talked to a mysterious entity they thought was residing in her best friend’s closest that night.  Steve added two more stories on top of the two but stumbled through them and Philip’s mouth dropped when he heard them.  Steve concluded the last two were so damn horrifying he cared not to remember which made Philip shutter.  Steve displayed goosebumps up his arm but Philip sat there still as if a small child heard the scariest story ever told.

            “You okay their buddy?” Steve hesitantly placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

            Philip’s eyes moved side to side when he voiced the last story.  The terror in his eyes when he mentioned only one word, vampire.  Of course his friend brushed it off as nothing more than an old folk tale but Philip’s hand went for his jacket pocket only to pull it back due to some overwhelming terror settling in his stomach, “Steve.  It’s been good seeing you, buddy.  It really has but I think I must go.  I need to get back home tonight.  I had a good time catching up but you should have never told me those things.  Besides I only came here to submit two articles I’ve been working on,” And just like that Philip slid off the bar stool and stumbled towards the bathrooms.

            Steve might have been drunk but he followed his friend.  The last story spooked his estranged friend who he had not seen in close to ten years.  Why did that last story shake Philip to his core?  He appeared to lose his focus like a weight slamming down on his shoulders, “Hold on there, man.  I thought you would understand and try to make sense out of things.  What do you know, Phil?  You always do this…I mean, you always used to do this.  Right when things get weird or out-of-sorts, you run away like you know something that most of us don’t.  You are honestly going to walk out on your drinking buddy?”

            Philip turned around and practically dragged him over the corner by the helm of his suit jacket.  His eyes darted from crowd to crowd of people, his speech was incoherent and unorthodox in nature, “Listen.  You walk down this path now, you are going to regret it.  Either you or someone you love is going to get hurt.  Stay here, enjoy the expo, give your speeches then go back home to your wife and kid and forget every story you just told me, you understand?  You put those memories to bed.  Those instances you witnessed and observed, all of it is trouble waiting to expose itself into something horrible.  I do not know who or what they are but stay away.  I need to go back home and do my research.  It was good to see you, buddy, it really was but I need to go back home.  Continue with your life and stay far away from people you don’t trust,” Philip almost ran out of the seminar acting like a madman who kept looking around him as if someone or something was after him.  Whatever scared the living daylights out of his friend, scared Steve too and for the remainder of the three-day seminar, Steve barely merely uttered a word and drank the entire time before heading back to his privileged life. 

            The flight back home was burdensome to say the least, and he slept most of the time.  Dreams of old high school days permeated his mind like clockwork.  He dreamt of the story he overheard his daughter and her friends tell each other.  He could have swore the monster hiding behind the closet growled with hungry contempt.  Sweat beaded down his face in the form of a night terror as the pounding of the door echoed in his dream.  Then he heard his wife, Angie’s voice rumble from the other side, “Steve!  That is my daughter, not yours!”  When he awoke, he almost shouted but came out as a yelp.  The flight descended from the nightly clouds and within a half hour the airplane landed.  Ever since he told his old chum that he knew and trusted so well, he behaved like a scared black cat who was afraid of its own shadow.  Thoughts plagued his mind like shards of glass breaking.  Maybe Philip and his partner friend were right, ‘get a good night sleep’ and ‘put those memories to bed.’  Perhaps the two sentences were linked together but by the time he collected his luggage and flagged down a taxi, the thought erased from the prefrontal cortex.

            He dare not go back to his esteemed home in suburban heaven instead the office seemed like a more viable option.  Through traffic lights and mild downtown ruckus, the streets hummed with night life activity.  College grads and young people adorned the streets hopping from bar to club to party and back again.  Those days of living young loosened its hold on Steve while he concentrated on building up his career, family and fortune.  He thought he might sleep at the office yet again since Angie refused to wait up for him anymore.  They became so detached from each other, she never even wondered if her husband was cheating on her.  It had become primarily expected of him to come back home either after a case won in court or the firm having Steve file semi-annual reports every six months.  Angie did not have to imagine if her husband would leave, he loved his daughter so much, it was more so out of obligation than necessity.

            The taxi came to a grinding halt down the street.  His luggage, briefcase, and two other pressed suits in rippled plastic were carried in both hands.  Tipping the cab driver extra dollars for the long drive into the city was a luxury that the driver accepted wholeheartedly.  Lugging all his belongings, he opened up the parking garage with his executive key card.  Five stretch limousines parked toward the front in a meticulous fashion.  In the wee hours of the morning, no living soul worked at the firm except for the midnight janitorial crew on cleanup duty.  He waved his hand at one of them who emptied the dustbins and waste baskets, and the custodian nodded in return.  No one would dare question Steve; he had been one of the firm’s best lawyers.  Almost every case he prosecuted he won except for the random occurrence if the defense had numerous evidence.  As he entered the elevator, his eyes shut momentarily due to the monotone hum of the cables.  His friend was probably right, he needed rest and sleep.  But he refused to do so at home.

            When the elevator chimed 13, the doors opened to the grand offices of the floor.  Cubicles in the internship wing stood out like white cinderblocks, and the executive suites all were locked.  He had the keys to his own and he yawned in the process.  Outside in the executive lobby, he threw his suitcase and luggage on the immaculate curved couch.  He splayed out his two luscious suits upon one of the adjoining chairs.  Still exhausted from the flight and waking up from every speed bump the taxi driver ignored, he went to his office, put the key into the keyhole, and opened the door.

            There amid the room stood five people.  Five unexpected people which made him almost piss in his pants.  They all stood in a semi-circle around one person in the middle.  His eyes widened in horror.  Terror filled his very lungs as if he could not breathe.  Out of all the stories he told Philip and his friend, he undoubtedly wreaked in astonishment.  The two people standing on the left of the circle was his daughter’s nanny and the private tutor.  The other two people standing on the right of the circle was his wife and his best friend who became his partner in the firm.  Their arms tucked behind them; soulless black eyes bore down at Steve.  The final fifth person sat in a chair between all four people he came to knew and just so happened to be his daughter, Patty, the apple of his eye.  Tears streamed down her face and she spoke hesitantly, “Daddy?”

            “It has been a long time coming,” Angie stated promptly showing no remorse behind her words, “I thought you would expect something a lot earlier.”

            “Well, he was always slow on the uptake,” his partner friend smiled wickedly, “Even back in college, buddy, procrastination was one of your weaker attributes.”

            “It’s too bad,” the nanny said provocatively, “I always thought you were cute.  But you never made a move,” she winked courting herself, “Such a devoted husband.  Modest and humble.”

            “Such a shame,” the tutor spoke the loudest, “You seemed so disciplined and determined.  A valiant workhouse that prides himself in his accomplishments.  All astounding traits to ignore what was undeniable right in front of him.” She moved towards Steve and he backed up, his back hitting the door to his office, “You saw my eyes that day, didn’t you?  Thought I was too stupid to realize how silent you became afterwards.”

            “What the hell is all this?” Steve questioned but immediately was silenced.

            His wife circled around his tied-up daughter.  Her hands bound in thick rope; her feet cuffed to the soles of the chair.  She cried and panted as she stared at her daddy, the one person who always stood by her side, the one who taught her all human traits and what it was like to be a kid.  Angie approached him with black haunting eyes that returned to her normal beige shade, “This has been a long time coming, honey.  A process that has been in the making ever since my daughter was born.”

            “Our daughter,” Steve’s voice finally rose as the fear left, “She is still mine and I love her with all my heart.  I have no idea what your intentions are, and what kind of sick twisted game you four are pulling here.  So, anyone care to explain to me what the hell is going on here?”

            The private tutor’s eyes glowed blacker than obsidian then they shifted to bright red oculars, “She might be your daughter by blood.  And you have raised her to be a special young woman.  Bright and intelligent as her mother, warm and caring as you.  Your job is finished, you played your part the way we wanted you to.  But in order for our vision to unfold, your services are no longer required.”

            Steve’s face held confusion as a gut wrenched feeling washed over him.  His wife turned around and came behind her daughter, she spoke languidly, “You see husband of mine, this has been planned out for many years.  Don’t get me wrong…I still love you; I will always love you.  There will always be a place in my heart for you.  This was not the original plan…it would have gone so much smoother if you kept your head buried in your work.  I thought maybe you would eventually file for a trial separation or divorce.  However, you noticed things that you were not meant to see.”

            “Those stories you told me pal,” his friend approached him as a normal guy nothing ghostly about his walk, his eyes the same hue unlike the rest of them, “I told you they were all in your head.  You should have gone home and got plenty of rest and you chose not to,” his friend brought out a little book from the confines of his suit jacket, the journal Steve used to write down his most personal thoughts and stories, “You should have kept a lot of it to yourself over these last couple of years, and you chose not to.  You slipped up…that’s why our plans changed.  I thought by going home you and Angie would talk things through, but you never listened.  Even to your college roommate whose had your back for all these years.”

            “Wait a minute, this was all a plan.  How long have you known Angie?”  Steve’s eyes darted from person to person, “How long have you all been on this together?"

            Angie’s lips contorted and curled up wickedly.  The nanny and private tutor also smiled revealing two sets of sharp canine teeth.  His longtime friend backed up slowly towards his daughter, his quirky sly grin licked at pointed teeth barely seen.  Angie’s eyes glowed a dull violet hue as she spoke again, “Oh honey.  This has been in the making since the day you met me.  Our wedding, our honeymoon, our beloved marriage.  All of your newfound friends and relatives.  Your partners and cohorts.  I always loved…your money.  Your job is now complete.  This would have been so much better if you ignored everything, came home to your loving wife, busied yourself with court cases and lawsuits, and just let me raise our daughter to the woman she was destined to be.  However…you just had to spill all of our secrets to your friend at the seminar.  Eventually you would have been promoted to vice president and your transformation could have been ten times easier.  But now you know too much.  And we must take away something you love so dearly.  Over the ten years I’ve known you, it used to be me…blind and conditional love.  But you have grown to love someone else more than me, haven’t you?  So sweet and honest and pure and completely unconditional…”

            With the last words shouted the four of them lunged at his daughter.  Their mouths capsized on her ten-year-old flesh in all different areas.  Her arms and her throat pierced with their devilish torment.  Steve blankly stared in shock, his jaw dropping, and the tears rolled down his face in droves.  His daughter Patty panted and gurgled in despair; her eyes hollowed out pupils with a tad of sadness rolling down just like her daddy’s.  With a tad bit of hope and humanity remaining in his daughter’s eyes as her mouth gasped out in unrelenting agony she shouted to her father, “Daddy…don’t…help…run…daddy…just run!”

            “I love you, my special buddy…”  Steve always listened to his daughter no matter what she wanted.  The spec of his eye screamed in horror before him giving him a command.  Run, daddy.  And that’s what Steve did.  Just like a little leaguer playing softball he bolted out of the office leaving his daughter there to die.  He had no idea if any of them would follow but he did not care, he ran like there was no tomorrow.  He managed to listen to his daughter’s input, all the times they went to baseball games, teaching her how to play catch, how to strike a ball into left field, all those great memories remained in place and did not drift away this time.  This time those memories locked themselves behind the closet door, and the door closed forever.  Saving her was not an option.  If he did so he would be dead too.  He had to remain alive.  He had to survive for his daughter.  Because if he looked back now his daughter and him would share the same fate.   Ignoring the elevator, he ran down the stairs of all thirteen floors.  His heart pumped ferociously and his feet missed two or three steps per vault.  Run, daddy. 

            Her last words plagued his mind, but he took it as a command not a suggestion.  The last few floors he hopped over the guard rail and landed on concrete steps.  His feet moved like a rabbit pedaling downward fast.  His sight never wavered as he concentrated on running towards the basement floor where the parking garage was located.  Pure athleticism coursed through his veins.  He never thought he would have to use such abilities as he grew older.  This all came as second nature.  Playing junior softball in elementary school, field hockey in middle school, and basketball in high school, he remembered all those drills every coach taught him.  Run, daddy.

            Bursting through the door marked PARKING GARAGE, he sprinted ahead towards one of the corporate limousines parked at the front of the lot.  In the wee hours of the morning, the moonlight poured down at the second hour of the morning.  Fumbling through his pockets, he reached for the set of keys.  The ring of silver-plated keys was inherited to him by his boss and the CEO.  He wondered, could they be involved with this?  With no time to think he unlocked the blackened front door and scooted his way inside.  He was not sure if one of them would come running from any direction but at that very moment he could care less.  Forgetting to unlock the parking garage’s main gate, he reversed the thirty-five-foot vehicle and pressed his foot on the gas pedal.  Using the limo as a battering ram, he crashed through the gate at roughneck speed and the car raced down the dimly lit city streets.  Run, daddy.

            How could he let his sweetheart die like that?  His wife, the nanny, the private tutor all wore masks covering up something far more sinister.  All the people he trusted in the firm had been liars the entire time.  All the friends he made in college, maybe some of them held genuine personalities but now he doubted.  All the executives he went to meetings with, all the business owners and financiers he befriended, all the teachers he questioned at Patty’s private school, were they all in on it too?  There was only one man who he could trust, even his wife hesitated when she mentioned him.  Philip said ‘trust no one’ which meant his old high school friend researched these people beforehand.  He was the only true friend he needed to talk to at that very moment.  Run, daddy.

            It would take him a couple of hours to drive the trip out of Chicago and his daughter’s last words forced him to go all the way.  Speeding up onto the highway, he wondered where his friend could be.  The only thing he remembered from the two hour long inebriated conversation was that he attended the local community college from back home.  The limousine clocked in above 70 miles per hour but the more he sped the more he wondered why Philip left in such a rush.  Hopefully once he tracked down Philip’s whereabouts, he could disclose all the information he obtained on this mysterious research.  As the limousine screeched down the highway, his daughter’s last words no longer haunted him but played like a record skipping.  Run, daddy, run.  Run, daddy run.