《The Death of 1977 (Book 3)》


 Chapter 1

    Chapter 1


    (This story is by no means an indictment against the country of Jamaica and its beautiful people.)


    ------


    The Asndview Psychiatric Center


    December 1976


    "Isaac, do you n on standing at that window all day long, or would you rather have a seat and have


    a civilized discussion?" Doctor Sanyupta, who was dressed perfectly in a brown suit, patiently implored


    seated behind his desk inside his warm and cozy office.


    With his arms folded in an irate manner inside his brown Izod sweater, Isaac remained obstinately at


    the window that overlooked a cold, frosty and cloudy morning.


    He pulled at the crotch of his faded blue jeans that managed to itch with every restless move that he


    made.


    "Man, I ain''t sayin'' anything until I see awyer or somebody." The young, bitter man mumbled against


    the sore jaw that he was nursing while leaning against the frigid window.


    "My friend, this is not prison. We are here to help you."


    Yanking himself away from the window, Isaac turned to Sanyupta and pointed, "Man, you ain''t my


    friend! And the only help I need can''t be found here!"


    "I take it you are referring to your so called disease?"


    "Hell yes that''s what I''m taking about!" Isaac snapped back. "My dad sent me here for some bullshit


    reasons! Motherfucker!" He tossed his arms in the air. "I''m not crazy; I know what happened to mest


    month! It was that bitch that did this to me!" He pointed at his auburn eyes. "And I''m warning you, it can


    happen again, in this ce!"


    Doctor Sanyupta sat back in his leather swivel chair and studied Isaac very precisely before saying,


    "Isaac, allow me to ask the question. Was it you that murdered those menst month?"


    For a second, Isaac caught himself before he stood absolutely still in the middle of the floor "Man...I


    don''t know for sure." His voice faltered. "It just happened, and then I just cked out." Isaac then


    happened to nce at the door and the mistletoe that was dangling from above.


    "Isaac, I see you as a rational human being; someone who is not taken easily to being overrun with


    delusions of shape-shifting."


    "But it''s not a delusion!" Isaac pleaded with outstretched arms. "I know what happened that night! Look


    at my eyes, man! How did they go from ck one day to this the next?"


    "There could be a reasonable exnation."


    "Like what? Someone broke into my room and slipped a couple of contacts into my eyes? That''s


    bullshit!"


    "Isaac, your father believed this facility to be the one ce in the world that could help you¡ª


    "My father," Isaac twisted his lips. "That overgrown nigga hit me because he said I tried to hit him. Man,


    the next time I see his ass I''m gonna take a baseball bat and crack him so hard in the face he won''t


    know what hit his ck ass!"


    "But he is your father." Sanyupta sounded amazed.


    "I don''t care if he''s my mother; no one hits me and gets away with it! That''s why he sent me here,


    because he knew I would get his ass back for that!"


    Isaac was sweating while pacing across the floor in an agitated, cagey manner, as though he could feel


    someone watching him all around.


    Meanwhile, Sanyupta, who was still seated quite securely in his chair, kept his eyes stationed only


    upon Isaac while quietly tapping his fingers on his desk.


    "Isaac, tell me something, wasn''t Lynn involved in your being here as well?"


    Right then, Isaac stopped just short of a bookshelf with his back turned to Sanyupta. The look he had


    on his face at that moment in time was that of a man who could burn holes into the carpet.


    "Oh...that bitch." He grunted.


    "And why do you refer to the mother of your son in such a manner as that?"


    "Because, man, she lied and said that I was¡ª


    Isaac paused for a reason at that second. Like the words that he wanted to say were slipping out of his


    hands and onto the floor.


    "What seems to be the problem, Isaac?"


    But Isaac would not speak; he just stood in the middle of the floor for a few moments more before


    slowly trotting back over to the window and leaning against its pane.


    "I asked you a question, young man." Sanyupta patiently reiterated. "Why did you suddenly stop


    speaking?"


    "Because...I don''t know for sure," Isaac murmured.


    Sanyupta reached for the pen and pad that were both ced just an inch away from him on his desk


    before he began writing.


    "I didn''t mean to call her that." Isaac turned around while still leaning against the window.


    "But there was some kind of emotion that brought such a hateful word out all of the sudden."


    Isaac folded his arms and dropped his head. Every time he tried to turn his attention away from


    Lyte that was all the more the woman''s image seemed to follow him.


    "What do you believe caused you to call her that?"


    Isaac heaved the breath out of his lungs before he said, "She''s not the mother of my child."


    Sanyupta stopped writing at that moment before sitting forward and folding his hands. "How do you


    mean?"


    Isaac couldn''t even look Sanyupta in the eye. He kept his face pointed to the carpet for as long as he


    could.


    "You heard me. I said she wasn''t the mother of my child." He shamefully muttered.


    "And how do you know this to be true?"


    "Because...I just do," he replied.


    "That is not a good enough answer, Isaac."


    Out of frustration, Isaac flung his head backwards and said, "There was this one cat that we both knew


    from high school. His name is William. I guess she was stuck on him at the same time she was on me.


    One thing led to another, and...and nine monthster she told me." Isaac wiped the mist away from his


    eyes.


    "Oh...I see." Sanyupta gently responded. "And yet, after all of that, you still raise Isaiah as your own?"


    Isaac only nodded his head yes. "My dad even told me that he wasn''t mine to begin with. He said that


    God told him. But I guess I wanted to believe otherwise. I really do love that kid, man."


    "How do you and Lynn cope with all of this?"


    Snickering, Isaac said, "We cope by not saying anything about it."


    "That is far from healthy."


    "What the hell else do you want me to do?" He ranted. "Keep on bringing up the past until we break up


    altogether?"


    "Where is Isaiah''s father then?"


    "He''s standing right here!" Isaac angrily stepped forward. "I''m his father!"


    Sanyupta relented before saying, "Very well, young man. While Imend you on yourmitment,


    that still does not give a reason as to why you called Lynn such a derogatory."


    Isaac stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Man, I don''t know." He whined. "All she and I ever do is fight


    and fight."


    "Do you love her?"


    "Yeah, I love her." He callously shrugged. "But rather than try and help me, she just called my dad to


    come and take me away! She just stood by and watched as he hit me! No one will ever listen to me!


    They just yell at me and send me to a fucking lunatic asylum!"


    "Isaac, I want to ask you a very important question, and I want an honest answer in return. Is there


    anyone in your life that you feel you have disappointed?"


    Without warning, Isaac''s entire body just took a strong pause. The young man could have been


    knocked over so easily at that point. He was as stiff and solid as iron.


    "What...what do you mean by that?"


    Shrugging, Sanyupta said, "It means just how it sounds."


    Isaac blindly looked all over the office before his eyes connected with the floor all over again. "I''d have


    to say my father." His voice cracked.


    "Why your father," Sanyupta queried.


    Isaac shut his eyes for two seconds before saying, "Before my father came to Cypress, he was born


    and raised way out in the sticks. He grew up with this guy named Elmer Hob. They used to run


    moonshine together before they both got saved. About five years ago, though, Mr. Hob, his wife


    and granddaughter were all killed in a house fire. Every year since then, my dad and I would drive out


    there to the house and visit. But thisst summer...I couldn''t go."


    "And why is that?"


    "Because, man, it''s depressing," Isaac groaned. "They''re not there anymore anyways."


    "Do you believe that it disappointed your father?"


    Feeling cold, Isaac answered, "I know it disappointed me. You should''ve seen the look on his face


    when I told him that I didn''t want to go. Then again, you should''ve seen the look on Lynn''s face when


    she told me that Isaiah wasn''t mine." Isaac concealed his watery eyes. "It''s like all three of us are


    trapped inside this mad circle."


    "That is a very astute way of putting it, but I would like to refer to another exnation. As much as I


    detest using cinema references, I am forced to utilize one right now. Mr. Roger Moore made a picture


    some years ago titled ''The Man who Haunted Himself''. In this film, the title character had an alter ego


    that yed out his most wild and decadent fantasies that carried him away from his humdrum, almost


    depressing reality. While the film''s ending is preposterous, it justifies to a certain degree the way you


    are feeling, or the way you have been feeling for quite some time now."


    For the first time since being at Asndview Isaac was listening. He may not have fully understood


    what Sanyupta was saying, but something was funneling inside and connecting. The doctor had his full


    attention.


    "You were told that you were not the father of a child. You believe that your father betrayed you, but this


    came after you felt you disappointed him. You were trying to deflect how he felt by grabbing for the first


    thing that he supposedly did wrong to you. Now, you have created an illusion of shape-shifting in order


    to escape from a reality that you must face either sooner orter. Did something take ce inside that


    house? I believe so. People were killed. But, Isaac, you were not implicated in anyone''s demise. You


    were simply an innocent bystander."


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    "But what about my eyes," he stepped forward. "How do you exin this?"


    "Isaac, there have been cases of people having symptoms of hysterical blindness. While your change


    of eye color is striking, it is no cause for rm. I do believe that they shall return to normal eventually."


    "But I have these dreams." He urged. "Sometimes I see this naked dude standing at my bedroom door


    just staring at me. And then there''s the voices I hear. Just two nights ago, I couldn''t even remember


    putting on my pajamas. Are you actually gonna sit there and tell me that it''s all in my head?


    "That is exactly what I am saying." Sanyupta adamantly replied.


    Taken aback, Isaac''s stomach plunged. With his jaw hanging to the floor the man breathlessly asked,


    "How...how then do I stop feeling this way? Because, it all felt so damn real," he blinked.


    Sanyupta''s face took on a more satisfied, if not proud expression. "Young man, you have been here


    now for exactly seven days, and this is the first time you have actually asked for help. You cannot


    change into another person; you are a human being, a human being that can be reasoned with and


    aided. As time goes by, we will see what we can do as far as the nightmares are concerned. A


    nightmare can never kill you."


    Isaac took his hands out of his pockets right then before turning his head to see tiny snowkes fall


    outside the window. Suddenly, a thought of Christmas and Isaiah entered into his mind. It actually


    caused his once cold body to loosen up.


    "Now, if you wille and have a seat, we can begin, my friend." Sanyupta motioned with his right


    hand.


    Not so reluctantly, Isaac Mercer made his way over to the chair that was ced in front of the desk and


    sat down.


    "Just for the record, I never stopped loving Lynn." Isaac stared at Sanyupta.


    Sanyupta looked right back at Isaac and steadily remarked, "And if you continue to be the man that I


    know you can be, she will never stop loving you either."


    Isaac just rested his hands on his knees and shut his eyes. "I just hope you know what you''re doing."


    He spoke so gently. "I still feel like I don''t belong in a ce like this." He moaned.


    "That will be determined with the passage of time."


    Just as soon as he opened his eyes, the lights in the office began flickering off and on. Both Isaac and


    Sanyupta gawked around before the event finally ceased.


    Appearing somewhat annoyed by the disturbance, Sanyupta sighed and said, "You''ll have to forgive


    that. The lights in this building have been behaving this way for the past six or seven days. Hopefully


    our maintenance crew can have it fixed before we put up the tree in a few days. Now, shall we begin?"


    Isaac wiped his eyes some more before he looked straight ahead at Sanyupta and stated, "I...I wrote


    Lynn a letter some time ago."


    "Really," Sanyupta took off his sses.


    Isaac dropped his head. "Yeah, I just wanted her to know how I truly felt about her. But I left it


    underneath my bed. I just hope my father never finds it and reads it."


    Smiling from ear to ear, Sanyupta said, "I would not worry too much about that."


    Isaac raised his head and nced behind him at the window where he could see thicker kes of snow


    fall from the sky.


    "I sure can''t wait till Christmas." Isaac''s voice faded into a depressed oblivion while his auburn eyes


    melted away into the snowy backdrop.

 Chapter 2

    Chapter 2


    October 1977


    Cypress, Ohio


    Three ck boys, all three at the age of twelve, rode their bikes down the neighborhood on a brisk,


    forty-five degree morning. All three boys wore heavy jackets. They werefortable without having


    each of them break out into saturating sweats.


    Two of the three boys had Cincinnati Bengals'' thermal hats on their heads while the third wore only a


    ck ball cap. Lanced securely on one of the handlebar''s of Mike''s bike was a boom box that was


    ying Parliament''s, ''Bop Gun'' in the tape deck. Light puffs of smoke came from out of their mouths


    every time they exhaled,ughed and carried on with one another on their way to school that early


    morning, just as they did every other day.


    When they approached a certain neighborhood all three boys stopped just short of the corner and


    watched as two police cruisers pulled down the same street and stopped in front of a house.


    "Man, let''s go down the other way." Mike grudgingly suggested to hisrades.


    At once, all three boys turned their bikes around and proceeded to ride down an alley until they came


    to a busy intersection.


    "We can take Holmes Road all the way to school." Jerome said.


    "Man, Holmes Road is too long." Mike griped. "Let''s take 7th."


    Once more, the boys took off down another alley that eventually led to West 7th Blvd. Once their bikes


    touched the street''s pavement the boys immediately noticed a shift in focus as far as the quality of the


    neighborhood was concerned.


    Granted, their own neighborhood was far from ideal, but the fact that the scenery had transformed on


    them so rapidly seemed to slow their pace down the empty road all the more.


    They carried on and on until Mike came to a hard stop in front of one particr house to his right. Both


    Jerome and Brian stopped in behind their friend to see just what had caught his attention all of the


    sudden. The street was still asleep that morning. All that could be heard were the birds and a few


    vehicles from the road up ahead. Mike just sat on his bike with his feet firmly nted to the middle of


    the street.


    "What are you looking at?" Brian asked while gawking all around.


    Mike shut off his radio before pointing and asking, "Do ya''ll know what happened at that crib over


    there?"


    "Man, everybody knows what happened there." Jerome waved his hand.


    "But hold up," Mike urged. "Just a couple of weeks ago, my brother was out here gettin'' balled out by


    this one skeezer, and he saw this dude walk up in there and nevere out again."


    "Maybe he went out the backdoor." Brian said.


    "Nah, man, that dude never came out any door. He may still be up in there."


    "My aunt said that that ce is haunted." Jerome mentioned.


    Mike sat absolutely still on his bike while staring endlessly at the boarded up house. "C''mon, ya''ll, let''s


    go in." He suggested.


    "Man, we gotta get to school!" Brian insisted.


    "Man, shut up, you African Booty Scratcher. School is only ten minutes from here." Mike retaliated. "We


    won''t be in there long. I just wanna see what it looks like inside."


    Both Jerome and Brian reluctantly followed an overly-anxious Mike towards 909. The second they


    reached the porch, all three boys put their individual bikes on their stands. Mike peeked in through the


    tiny slits within the boards at the front window before approaching the front door.


    "Help me open this thing." Hemanded.


    "Man, we''d better get outta here before someone sees us." Brian shivered.


    "Man, ain''t nobody gonna see us, it''s too early. C''mon and push," Mike went on.


    All three boys pushed at the door until it cracked wide open. Before stepping inside, the boys used only


    their eyes to view the living room from left to right.


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    "Go on in, man." Mike shoved Jerome.


    "Man, forget you, this was your idea!" He pushed him back.


    Mike forged ahead of his friends inside. Before long, the other two joined in with Brian shutting the door


    behind them. The house was cold, smelly and dark, despite cracks of daylight that managed to seep its


    way inside from one corner to another. The boys cautiously plodded through the tiny living room before


    making their way down the hallway to examine the one bedroom. From the bedroom they ventured


    further down the hall that led to the bathroom.


    The door to the bathroom was wide open. "That''s where that dude was shot up." Brian nearly lost his


    breath.


    All three stepped inside to find only a mouse''s decayed corpse lying next to the toilet. "Man, that''s


    really messed up that that cop shot him." Mikemented.


    "Yeah, it''s real messed up. Now, let''s go to school." Jerome rushed to say.


    Mike twisted his lips before turning around and asking, "Did ya''ll know that this ce has a basement?"


    Mike shoved past hisrades on his way towards the kitchen. "I wonder where that dude that came


    in here is." He asked. "Do ya''ll think he''s downstairs?"


    "Who cares? Let''s just go!" Brian implored.


    "Man, don''t worry; we''ll only be here for a minute." Mike vowed.


    "If you want to leave then go ahead, I''ll wait here with Mike." Jerome shook his head.


    But Brian only looked around the kitchen and dropped his shoulders saying, "Nah, I''ll be cool."


    Beside the stove was a brown and white mat that was lying on the floor. Mike slid the mat away to


    reveal a trap door. He then pulled thetch on the door and opened it. All three boys hurried to see


    down inside the pit. With the exception of a little sunlight protruding down within it waspletely dark.


    "Man, what are you doin''?" Brian hollered as he watched Mike climb down the woodendder. But Mike


    never replied, he just kept on and on until he made it to the bottom.


    Soon and surprisingly, both Jerome and Brian followed in suit. The second their feet hit the gravel floor


    they shockingly found themselves inside the basement. At only five feet and twelve inches, head room


    was tedious. The boys had to hunch over while examining their surroundings.


    The basement itself was really no more than twelve feet long and wide. The only relic that seemed to


    remain was a Mr. Potato Head that was lying all by itself in a corner; beyond that the basement was


    empty.


    "Okay, we''ve seen it, now, let''s go." Brian hastily remarked while turning back towards thedder.


    "Man, my bedroom is bigger than this." Jerome observed.


    "I know," Mike marveled. "I always wanted to see inside this ce. Now I can go to school and tell


    everyone that I saw the murder house." He grinned.


    "You can say that." Brian spoke, but in a different voice.


    Both Mike and Jerome turned around to see Brian still standing at thedder with his back turned to


    them. He was standingpletely still, not even his hands were moving.


    "C''mon, man, let''s go before we''rete for school." Jerome patted Mike on the shoulder.


    Both Mike and Jerome proceeded to make their way to thedder only to have Brian continue to stand


    in their way.


    "Move, Brian, so we can get outta here like you want to so bad." Mikeined.


    But Brian still would not budge. Jerome and Mike nced at each other before turning back to Brian.


    Mike then nudged Brian on the back and yelled, "Man, c''mon, we gotta get outta here! If I''mte to


    school again my mom is gonna whoop me!"


    "Ask me who I was." The sinister voice that wasing from Brian said.


    At that instant both Jerome and Mike backed away. They then stared at each other for a few seconds


    before Jerome looked back at Brian.


    "Hey, Brian, are you okay, man?" His voice waned.


    Brian''s body then began to quiver before someone else''s unfamiliar voice began speaking. "Someone


    told me to stay away from people."


    "Nigga, what are you talking about?" Mike became agitated.


    Right then, Brian turned around. Jerome and Mike started to shake for the simple fact that they couldn''t


    see Brian''s face which was pointed to the floor.


    "What''s wrong with you, Brian?" Jerome stammered.


    The hatch door above mmed shut before Brian lifted his head to reveal a mouth full of fangs at his


    friends. He hissed and snarled at them both like a famished animal.


    Mike and Jerome screamed out in horror before Brian lunged at them both and proceeded to destroy


    them.


    The boys'' shrieks and cries for help were both loud and heartbreaking.


    The front door that led to the porch squeaked wide open. It remained open for at least three whole


    minutes before an explosion of blood and torn clothes came rushing out the door and onto the porch


    where the three bikes were still resting.


    The blood dripped and soaked all over the bikes and porch steps making it appear as if someone had


    sprayed the porch with dark red paint.


    Then, just as ominously as it opened, the front door that led into 909 shut all over again.


    One of the bikes managed to topple over onto its side.

 Chapter 3

    Chapter 3


    Negril, Jamaica


    The Rainy Season


    "Walk with me, if you will. Here, beyond this beach aptly named Bloody Bay, lies an uncanny, if not


    deadly revtion that has rocked the people of Negril.


    What lies behind me, deep within this bamboo forest is a horror the likes you have never witnessed


    before.


    As we venture deep into the crevices of the quiet de we can hear almost nothing. No kinds of wildlife


    to be seen or heard. Only quiet...eerie, deep quiet.


    The deeper we delve, the more the human imagination begins to develop a sense of fear and


    trepidation, until...we find the unthinkable.


    Right here, in this massive ditch, once was the resting ce of exactly eighty-six men, women, boys


    and girls. All of which were torn to pieces by some wild animal just three months earlier.


    Who discovered and buried the people is still a mystery. What kind of vicious beast could have wrought


    so much havoc is still baffling.


    Local authorities are hesitant to say just what kind of animal could have murdered all of those people,


    but vigers in and around here say that this entire area was at one time, and still is cursed. Some


    even call this area ''The curse of Satan.''


    The soil that I have in my hands is all but infertile. As I mentioned earlier, the sounds of animals is all


    but non-existent. It''s as though they are aware that this entire forest is a nightmare.


    I, your host, Ss MacDougal, even have reservations on remaining here. Even as I stand here I feel a


    deep presence lurking about; something sinister following me.


    It''s said by some of the neighboring vigers that voices can be hearding from this very forest both


    night and day. There have been stories of giant animals once stalking people in this very vige over


    fifty years ago. Creatures that have gued this once peaceful Oceanside crest that was at one time


    called home, have now turned it into a wastnd, with nothing to show for it but memories.


    What sort of animal could have wiped out an entire vige? Who was it that buried all the bodies? How


    could such evil have been overlooked for so long? What the hell are the kids doing running around our


    set?" Ss angrily shouted in his Scottish vernacr. "Cut, cut, cut!"


    All around Ss, his young camera operator Reba and her younger brother and microphone man


    William were little Jamaican children running, frolicking and acting as if the entire forest were their


    private yground.


    All Ss could do was take off his ball cap, toss it to the ground and look on in utter disbelief. "Where


    the hell did theye from all of the sudden?" He fussed.


    "They''re from the other vige," Reba, who also spoke in a Scottish dialect, said as she turned her


    camera off.


    Spinning around and around, trying to catch all of the racing children in a single eyeshot, Ss


    remarked, "This is crazy! I''m filming a documentary here, not an episode of Sesame Street!"


    Impishly grinning, Reba said, "They''re just kids ying."


    "Let them y somewhere else!" Ss ranted as he began for the foot of the forest. "I wanna at least


    get the introductionplete before it rains again for the tenth time today, for God''s sake!"


    No sooner had Ss and his assistants exited the forest, a short, bald, old Jamaican man dressed in a


    white buttoned down shirt and cks began approaching him.


    "Now what," Ss rolled his eyes.


    "You know what he wants." William moaned.


    Wiping his sweaty face with his dingy undershirt, Ss promptly pasted on the shiniest, phony smile he


    could assemble.


    "Good afternoon, Pastor Bena!" Ss warmly greeted with open arms.


    "Hello, my friend!" Bena responded in kind, kissing Ss on both cheeks. "How are you?"


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    "Still out here doing my job," Ss gritted his teeth behind his cheesy smile. "What brings you all the


    way out here, might I ask?"


    "You will have to forgive de little ones, dey just got out of school." Bena pointed all around at the


    children.


    "Oh, is that it?" Ss strained to say.


    "I and de congregation were just wondering when you and your film crew wille and visit de church.


    We have a very special service just in store for de three of you."


    "We would be very d to show up this Sunday, Pastor." Reba cut in with her own smile.


    "Yes, between doing our documentary and all the rain, we''ve just been so busy." Ss added.


    "Den Sunday it is!" Bena happily tossed up his hands. "God be with you all! Come now, children, we


    must go!"


    Ss and his crew waited until Bena was out of earshot before Ss dropped his fake smile and said,


    "Those Protestants never give up. Hopefully we''ll be done with this shoot before Sunday, and then we


    can¡ª


    But before Ss could speak another word, the clouds in the sky darkened within a matter of seconds


    before the rain came pouring down upon everyone on the beach.


    "You can''t be serious!" Ss shouted at the sky. "You''re supposed to be an almighty being! Don''t you


    have a sense of humor?"


    The crew, children and pastor all mored along their way off the beach while just a few yards back,


    seatedfortably inside a dusty brown pickup truck was Livingston.


    Livingston was a rugged looking, thin, white Englishman with the looks of a mid-forty year old. He wore


    azy, five o'' clock shadow, as well as a dirty white ball cap. His khaki pants and muddy boots would


    have suggested that he had been working all day long non-stop, while his unspoiled white t-shirt looked


    as if he had just pulled it straight out of a washing machine mere seconds earlier.


    He sucked on his newly lit Cuban cigar all the while ring an amused smirk at the unfortunate


    documentary crew that was scrambling like frightened mice to get both themselves and their beloved


    equipment out of the rain.


    Livingston turned on the truck before pulling off of the embankment he was parked. He drove down the


    muddy, rural road, past numerous fleeing vigers who were trying to escape the weather''s conditions.


    There were men, women and children, some of which were either running, riding bikes or even


    donkeys.


    Livingston carried on past all of them until he made it to a main road that led down a rain-slicked


    highway in the afternoon, after work rush.


    From left to right there were people on both sides of the road walking or remaining underneath their


    tents selling food or whatever else they saw fit to peddle. But by then, running from one ce to


    another was all but useless, it was going to rain and everyone beneath its path was going to get wet.


    By that point in the dreary season, if a person wasn''t ustomed to the conditions, then they were just


    as well to up and leave the country altogether.


    Livingston tooled along the road until he caught sight of a rundown hardware store. Without slowing


    down for a yellow light, the man took his truck off the main road and down an alley before stopping


    behind the store. He then honked the horn and waited for at least ten seconds before a young, scraggly


    looking ck man came bolting out the backdoor with a brown satchel in hand.


    The young man approached Livingston''s side and knocked on the ss. Appearing annoyed,


    Livingston rolled down the window and growled in a cockney British ent, "Get in!"


    At once, the young man ran around to the other side of the truck and climbed inside. Gawking and


    gazing all around, Livingston said, "Hold on."


    The man drove down the alleyway and through a block before careening down yet another alley and


    parking. The rain pelted the truck so hard that it felt as if the old vehicle would shatter to pieces at any


    moment.


    Putting the truck in park, Livingston dashed out his cigar before turning to the man beside him. "Okay,


    whaddya got?"


    Reaching into his satchel and ncing behind him as though he were being watched, the man asked,


    "Where have you been all dis time?" He spoke in a Jamaican tone.


    "I just got back from Lincolnshire two days ago." Livingston replied. "But don''t worry about that. What


    do you have for me?"


    Taking out a collection of photos, the man said, "I took dese about six days ago." He presented his


    Proid''s. "Dis one was taken down at the Bay."


    Livingston only twisted his lips and rolled his eyes. "Forget him."


    "But he and de other two have been taking pictures and filming." The young man insisted.


    "I''ve seen him before. He''s filming some kind of movie out in the woods. He''s a Scottish twit. Forget


    him."


    Brushing aside his photo, the man pulled out another. "Dis one is part of the JLP, but he and his


    followers have also been roaming around de outskirts near de Palm Forest."


    Livingston sat and thought for a moment or two while ring hard at the photos. "How many followers


    does he have?"


    "About ten or so," he skittishly replied.


    "Or so," Livingston turned up his nose. "You bloody fool, I need an exact number."


    "It''s hard to tell. Dey are young; deye and dey go at will."


    Appearing disappointed, Livingston said, "Keep an eye on them. I thought all that political rubbish


    would have been over by now."


    The man then handed Livingston another photo. "Who is she?" He queried.


    "De workers down at The Kabal say dat she is a server dere. She also works down at de hatchery."


    "So, what does she have to do with anything?" Livingston shrugged.


    "She''s an American."


    Looking perturbed, Livingston ranted, "Why are you taking pictures of tourists?"


    "She''s a tourist who''s been here since August."


    At that very moment Livingston paused. He allowed the sound of the battering rain to take control of his


    senses, but only momentarily before he returned his attention back to the photo of the young woman.


    "An American, huh," he grunted.


    "Yes. Apparently she''s been going around and asking questions."


    "What kind of questions?"


    "Questions about... Arthur," the young man seemed hesitant to reply.


    "Oh really," Livingston lit up. "She''s probably FBI or CIA. I know that the Americans have been using


    females for quite some time in their surveince, but I didn''t know they were using cks. This could


    be an issue. But I''m quite sure our friends will have something to say about it all the deeper she digs."


    "They''re not here," the young man stammered.


    Livingston spun his head around like a top at that second and stared hard at the man. "What are talking


    about?"


    Looking absolutely terrified, he replied, "No one has seen any of dem since dey all left back in July."


    Livingston''s face turned a shade whiter at that instant. "You''re off, they have to be here!" He said out


    loud.


    "All three of dem haven''t been seen in months." The young man sat back and away from Livingston.


    Livingston sat and looked out the window as a ck woman came out the backdoor of her shop to


    empty some trash.


    He had to think, if not for the situation at hand then for himself. Something was out of ce; the pieces


    of the puzzle were nowhere to be found. Any logic he could grasp just to stall for more time in between


    thoughts would have been weed.


    "You say this girl works at The Kabal?"


    "Dat''s right."


    Livingston took both her photo and the one before it before reaching into his pants pocket. "What about


    the workers? How have they been holding up?"


    "Without Arthur and de others dey are bing more...bold."


    ring at the man with a slight grin, Livingston snickered, "Bold, you say? My bleeding father was


    bold. That never stopped me from...Never mind." From out of his pocket he pulled a wad of dor bills


    and handed the man three of them.


    The man took the money andined, "Dis is all?"


    "You''ll get more when I get more info on these two." Livingston held up the photos. "Now, off with you."


    "Should I tell de workers that you''re back?"


    Livingston shoved the pictures inside the glovepartment before saying, "No...I''ll see to that."


    Appearing disheveled, the man got out of the truck and began walking in the rain. Before he pulled off,


    however, Livingston rolled down his window and yelled, "Philippe, keep an extra eye on the woman!


    Even if you have to fuck her, make sure she doesn''t leave your sight!"


    Livingston then drove down the alley and back onto the main highway. For a brief moment, the man


    actually had to rethink his journey from his homnd to anothernd. That is, however, until the


    Bushards managed to capture his imagination all over again.


    The man''s stomach began to twist into all kinds knots.

 Chapter 4

    Chapter 4


    Through the Downtown district, past the beach and up and into the misty mountains Livingston


    traveled. The further up he ascended the thinner the air seemed to be. The rain was ever


    persistent to the point where seeing straight was a task, but Livingston made short work of it due to his


    familiarity with the location.


    It took nearly an hour for the man''s truck to escape the main road and venture off into a forest that was


    clustered with fleeing bats and parrots. Once he approached a bushel of trees that was entirely too


    thick for a vehicle to pass, Livingston stopped the truck and got out.


    He reached into his back pocket to pull out his pistol before trudging through the trees and past a timid


    waterfall to find three barking German Shepherds who were being restrained by three, young, ck


    men standing behind the falls with green parkas on and AK-47''s all pointed directly at him.


    Livingston brushed aside the mist before shining his pistol at the men. All three men nced at each


    other before one of them turned back to Livingston.


    "Where have you been?" One of the men shouted.


    "Away on business," Livingston said aloud.


    Once more, the men turned to each other before parting and allowing Livingston to pass through.


    "The Bushards are not here!" One of the men called out.


    Livingston ignored thement while sifting through the wet forest until he came to a b of wood that


    was attached to the side of a cave entrance. The carved wood bore the image of a person''s sad face.


    Livingston examined the face with both his eyes and right hand, curiously caressing the soggy wood


    before he skittishly entered into the dark cavern.


    The stifling heat and humidity, along with various toxic fumes caused Livingston to recall why he had


    stayed away for so long to begin with.


    There was a bludgeoning stench attached to the cave, like that of human waste. The man took off his


    ball cap and covered his mouth with it before taking out his lighter and igniting it to brighten his way


    deeper into the cave.


    "Who is dere?" A man''s voice shrieked.


    Startled, Livingston angrily groaned, "Put your bloody gun away, you fool!"


    At once the ck man who was holding a rifle backed down. "Thank goodness, you''re here." He


    exhaled.


    Lookingpletely unimpressed as he carried on further into the cave, Livingston asked, "What''s with


    the face outside? Who changed it?"


    The man walked alongside Livingston saying, "We don''t know how dat happened. It''s been dat way


    since July."


    Livingston just nced at the man oddly as he came to a shabby steel gate. He pushed open the gate


    to find three more men who were all holding rifles of their own at four ck men and three ck


    women who were all just lying around on the ground as though they were resting.


    The sound of reggae music ying in a distance caused Livingston to not only wince but also stomp a


    bit harder onto the muddy ground towards one of the men holding a rifle.


    "Turn that God awful racket off!" he growled.


    "But it keeps dem motivated." The man contended.


    Without hesitation, Livingston picked up the tiny radio from off the ground and smashed it against the


    wall. Themotion caused all the people that were lying on the ground to subtly awaken from their


    leisurely siesta.


    Pointing at them all, Livingston raged, "Does this look like motivation to you?"


    Angrily, the man went over and yanked one person after another up from off the ground like unruly


    animals.


    "How much have they gathered since we''ve been gone?" Livingston asked.


    Appearing frightened, one of the men answered, "Uh...no more dan seven grams."


    It took at least three seconds before Livingston hauled off and pped the man across the face so hard


    that blood spewed out of his mouth.


    "Since July, these fuckers have managed to only gather seven grams?" He screamed. "They got more


    than that back in January!"


    "But dey are tired." The man whimpered.


    "They''re not tired, they''rezy!''


    "We want to leave." One of the male workers suddenly spoke up.


    Livingston gradually turned around to face the man who was a sweaty mess from his head all the way


    to his sandaled feet. His overgrown beard looked as if it hadn''t been groomed in months, and his eyes


    were flushed with red, making him appear as though he hadn''t slept in days.


    From N?velDrama.Org.


    With a haughty expression on his own soaked face, Livingston asked," I beg your pardon, govenah?"


    Stepping closer to Livingston, the man proimed, "I said, we want to leave. We have been in here for


    God knows how long, and we are tired."


    "Wait a bloody minute, this isn''t very. You all signed up for this."


    "Yes, but we were told dis would be only for a month." One of the female workers stood up. "We want


    to go home to our families!"


    Livingston looked all around at the people who all appeared as if they were readying themselves for a


    revolt of sorts. But Livingston didn''t even flinch. He just put his hands on his hips and dropped his head


    before pacing back and forth across the ground.


    "Philippe told me that you all were getting bold." Livingston stated as he took his pistol and studied its


    frame from side to side inside his hands. "My father was a very...vicious man. He was a bully to my


    mum and me, and my three brothersing up. When I was seven, I tried to punch the man in his


    face, but he managed to stop me before pping me down. When I was thirteen, I attempted to attack


    my father from behind, but he caught me and beat me so bad that I had to lie in the hospital for two


    weeks. Then, when I turned seventeen, I took this gun here and I pointed it at his face. The man told


    me that I didn''t have the guts to pull the trigger."


    At that point, Livingston pointed the gun directly at the male worker in front of him while still speaking.


    "It took me exactly four seconds to prove him wrong. I pulled the trigger of this gun and shot him once


    in the head and three times in the stomach."


    The worker stiffened his upper lip and stoodpletely inflexible in front of the weapon that was


    pointed so daringly at his face.


    "One...two...three...four," Livingston slowly counted before pulling the trigger and nting a single bullet


    into the head of the man, sending him hurtling backwards onto the ground.


    From there, he pulled the trigger three more times to where the bullets made contact with the man''s


    stomach. The remaining workers either screamed out in terror or vomited all over the ground before


    backing away.


    Once Livingston was through, he turned around to one of the guards and said, "If they are bold enough


    to revolt, then they are bold enough to work." He then turned back to the frightened workers. "I don''t


    care if the Bushards aren''t here! We all have a task toplete! I want to see diamonds! Not seven


    grams, but pounds and pounds of the fucking things! Back in ''69, they found at least twenty-two


    pounds in this very area! Believe me when I say, it can be done again! You want to go home? Complete


    your task!"


    All of the workers immediately gathered themselves from their positions before picking up their axe


    picks and diligently digging into the walls.


    Livingston then approached the guards and said, "I don''t care if you all are the same color, they are


    workers, not your brethren. You want to keep them motivated? Have them look at that dead man on the


    ground. And keep that damn music off."


    "Yes...yes, sir." One of the guards stuttered.


    With that, Livingston slid his gun back into his rear pocket before turning and exiting the work area.


    "Keep up the good work, everyone!"


    He kept on and on until he cleared the cave and came face to face with the guards that were waiting


    outside in the rain.


    He then gathered all three of them together in a huddle and presented to them one of the Proid''s.


    "You see this girl? She''s been asking questions about the Bushards. She''s an American."


    "I''ve heard of her." One of the guards spoke up. "My brother sees her in town sometimes."


    Nodding his head, Livingston said, "Yes, she is an American, which means she probably knows what''s


    happening here."


    "Can we have her picture?"


    Slipping the photo back into his pocket, Livingston replied, "There''s a good chance that I''ll run into her


    before you chaps do. y like you''re bloodhounds. You have her scent; use your teeth if she happens


    to run across this area." He pointed at their weapons."


    Livingston then turned away from the three men before carrying on towards and into a mist bank where


    he eventually vanished out of sight.

 Chapter 5

    Chapter 5


    The rain is a delight. It races down from Heaven above like shimmering crystals. Its re blinds my


    eyes as the flourishing, green pastures cascade over one another in a...


    Out of frustration, Lyte scribbled over her writings before attempting to retry her hand at her craft,


    only, her hand all of the sudden saw fit to remain stationary.


    She looked up and around at her environment, from the withering branches on an old bamboo tree that


    she was seated underneath, to the oversaturating rain that was causing her already deep depression to


    worsen by the day. By that point, writing something as simple and in as the word "The" was about as


    prolific as jumping into ake.


    She watched lethargically as various people went in and out of The Kabal restaurant; a nice little dive


    located just a hundred yards from the shoreline.


    Clothed in an orange and ck, tie-dyed mini-skirt, matching blouse and headscarf, Lyte listened


    to the thumping of music that wasing from the reggae-themed establishment. By then, however,


    the brand of music had all but worn thin on her. It wasn''t that she didn''t enjoy or like reggae, but so


    much of it back to back was starting to cause her to lose her own natural rhythm.


    "Lynn!" A young, ck woman from the backdoor of The Kabal called out waving.


    Rolling her eyes, Lyte took her notepad and pen, stuffed them into the backside of her skirt and


    proceeded to climb down from off the wooden fence she was sitting upon.


    With only a newspaper covering her head, the youngdy ran back across the sand and towards the


    restaurant until she approached the backdoor.


    "You almostte, little girl," the woman scolded Lyte as she held the door open for her.


    Cleaning off the wetness, Lyte dropped her newspaper onto the floor before saying, "Clea, I still


    had three minutes left on my break."


    Making her way back over to a simmering stove where three other ck men were steadily cooking,


    Clea responded, "It no matter, child, we just got de afternoon rush in. You should be used to dis by


    now."


    The kitchen possessed the aromatic smells of both seafood and fruit. There was a tiny, steamed up


    cracked mirror that was perched upon the wall next to the backdoor. Lyte checked her facial


    features and straitened her scarf before rushing by Clea on her way out into the dining area.


    Bob Marley''s, ''Three Little Birds'' was ying on the stereo system as people either sat and waited to


    be served or were exiting the building. Lyte whipped out her notepad and pen and approached the


    first table sheid eyes on where a white couple was already seated.


    From one table to another the woman took orders, chatted with and at timesughed with patrons.


    tes were brought in and out, tips were taken, and at most times, flirtatious actions from men were


    politely ignored until six p.m. crawled around. The restaurant remained open until 2 a.m., but Lyte


    and a few others'' shifts wereplete for the day. She, along with Clea and the three cooks all began


    their nightly trek to their various homes. With umbres being their only shield against the rain,


    Lyte and Clea carried on towards a nearby shantytown where cars, trucks and mopeds were


    careening through the streets, carelessly sshing water to and fro without a second thought to who


    they could have been offending.


    "Did ya ever manage to get de pads dat ya needed, girl?" Clea asked.


    Blushing, Lyte whispered, "You don''t ask that out in the open public, girl."


    "And why not," Clea shrugged. "We all women need dem!"Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    "I know, but¡ª


    "Hail up!" A young, ck man with a multi-colored beanie cap approached Lyte to her side.


    Startled, Lyte inadvertently bumped against Clea. "Oh, where did youe from, Jose?" She


    laughed.


    "I be around, here and dere." He smiled from ear to ear.


    Clea yfully nudged Lyte''s shoulder in the attempt to get her to walk closer to Jose. Lyte only


    grabbed the woman by the hand and squeezed as tight as she could.


    "Weh yud deh pan?" Jose asked.


    Appearing confused, Lyte turned up her nose, "I didn''t quite understand."


    "I asked, what are you up to?"


    "Ohh, why can''t you just say that then," she giggled.


    "I try to get you used to ournguage, since you be here for a while." Jose glowed.


    Lyte just pressed her lips together before releasing Clea''s hand. "How are things down at the


    bay?"


    "Ahh, quite well, quite well indeed." Jose remarked. "When will you be back again?"


    "Probably the day after tomorrow," Lyte said. "I gotta see how much money I can make due with


    until the end of the week."


    "Ohh, look at de time!" Clea nced at her watch. "I gotta get home to me kids and feed dem!" She


    whimsically parted ways with the two. "I see you tomorrow at work, little girl!"


    Lyte watched with hesitant eyes as the woman cut down an alley and out of sight. That in turn left


    both her and Jose all alone. It wasn''t what she desired, but at least she could divert her attention to


    something else...for the time being.


    "To be truthful, I am learning a few new words here and there." Lyte said.


    "Oh really," Jose perked up. "And what words dose be?"


    "Well, I know that Irie means happy."


    "Very good," Jose pped his hands.


    "Thank you, thank you." Lyte proudly smiled.


    "So tell me, how long ya n on staying here?"


    Twisting her lips in a yful fashion, Lyte stated, "You always ask me that, and I always say the


    same thing. I...don''t...know."


    "But I have to know, Lynn!" Jose pleaded.


    "Why is that?"


    Jose then stood in front of Lyte and stared her straight in her eyes. The woman stared right back at


    his brown eyes and partially bearded face with a sense of anxiety attached to her.


    Jose then took Lyte''s free hand and held it within his own warm hands. "I really have been wanting


    to take you to de end of de mountains, where de waterfalls lie. And den after dat, I wanted to show you


    where dey shot de James Bond film back in ''62." Jose said with such fervent zeal.


    "James Bond?" Lyte winced with a giggle. "To tell you the God''s honest truth, I think I''ve only seen


    one 007 movie in my life. I never really was into those flicks."


    "Dat''s okay; no one down here cares for him either." Jose snickered back. "It''s still a beautiful ce,


    Lynn."


    Lyte just stood in the rain while her t shoes grew increasingly wet by the second. She could


    sense the man''s good intentions, and yet, it was the intention that caused her heart to race right then.


    Nodding her head, Lyte replied, "I''ll think about it. As long as it''s not raining when we end up going.


    It was raining when I left home."


    "You shall be irie!" Jose skipped a beat before kissing Lyte''s hand. "I shall see you tomorrow den!"


    "I thought you told Cusha that you would stop by for supper!"


    Racing away in the rain, Jose yelled, "I must go and tell my mother! Besides, dis isn''t even my


    garrison!"


    Lyte just shook her head in quirky disbelief before turning and realizing that she had been standing


    at her shelter all along. Passing by two old men ying dominoes underneath an umbre at a small


    table, she ran up the corroded, metal steps until she made it to a rusted steel door. But before she


    opened the door, the young woman shook the rain from off her umbre and took a long gander of her


    shantytown environment.


    From the shacks that were seemingly piled on top of one another, to theundry that was perched


    outside on various strings. The smell of marijuana hanging deftly in the warm, rainy airbined with


    cooking food and the raw stench of urine always seemed to cause Lyte to remind herself just


    where she was; it wasn''t home, but then again, home was never home either.


    Lyte turned back around and twisted the doorknob. Almost immediately she was bombarded by the


    aromas of jerk chicken boiling in a pot that was dangling over an open fire. On a mat that was lying


    next to the pot were cut up avocadoes and what looked like pigs feet right next to them.


    The humidity inside the tiny shack was overbearing, as usual, but at least Lyte was out of the


    soaking rain. Getting dry quickly never seemed to be too much of a chore. Lyte ced her


    umbre down next to the door before sneaking over to the stewing pot to grab a whiff.


    "How ya stay, girl?" Arge, older ckdy, clothed in a brown cloth skirt came in through a nket


    that was blocking one part of the shack off to the other.


    Lyte had to pause for a second or two while trying toprehend what Cusha had just uttered.


    "I...I''m fine today." She grinned.


    "Good, good." Cusha breathed heavily while carrying a basket full of avocadoes into the room, only for


    her to drop them on the floor. "Why ya be sote today, child?" She asked while brushing aside her


    long, grey hair.


    "I was talking with Jose outside." Lyte answered before rushing over to aid Cusha. "What are all


    these for?" She began picking up the avocadoes from off the floor.


    Huffing and puffing, Cusha wiped sweat from her face and said, "Dere be a big party for dear old


    Master Goodun. A big birthday bash, ya know!"


    Rolling her eyes, Lyte griped, "I hate it when you call that man master. He may be your employer,


    but he''s not your master."


    "De man pays me well, girl. Well enough not to need two jobs."


    "Yeah, well you know why I need two jobs to begin with,dy." Lyte snidely remarked before going


    back over to the boiling pot.


    "Don''t be crayven!" Cusha smacked her hand away. "Dere be more dan enough for you and I."


    Lyte just sat herself down at the little table for two and watched as Cusha sat Indian-style down on


    the floor and started cutting up avocadoes.


    The youngdy was beaten for the day, but not so much to the point where she wanted to go and lie


    down. There was something always startling to her about Cusha''sborious detail that seemed to seize


    Lyte''s attention to no end.


    "So, how be work today?" Cusha asked without taking her eyes away from her duty.


    "It was okay." Lyte sighed. "This rain is really getting me down though."


    "Oh, girl, dis rain is nutingpared to what we had to see way back in ''51."


    "You always bring that up,dy." She smirked.


    "Because I know dey not have hurricanes where you from," Cusha remarked with a smirk of her own.


    "That''s true, but then again, you all never had to deal with blizzards either."


    "Here, take de pot away from de fire, child."


    At once, Lyte got up, and with a towel that sat beside the sink, she lifted the searing hot pot from


    off the fire before cing it down onto the floor.


    "Tomorrow before yae home from work, get some sweet potatoes from de patch, please."


    "But that''s all the way down at the hatchery." Lyteined. "I don''t n on going down there


    again until the end of the week."


    "But ya go to see Jose, no?"


    Lyte just blushed at that instant before carrying herself over to the nket and pulling it back to


    look out at the miniature, metal balcony and the numerous shacks that surrounded.


    "I don''t know for sure!" She said out loud in a sort of mncholy way. "He''s sweet, but he''s just too


    persistent for my taste."


    "A persistent man in dese parts is a man to keep, girl."


    "It depends, I guess."


    "Depends on what?"


    "On...on whether I need it that bad or not," Lyte vacited to say.


    "Need a man dat bad?" Cusha asked with an entric tone in her voice.


    Lyte''s head spun around so quickly at that moment in utter amazement. She could hardly believe


    that such words hade out of the woman''s mouth at all.


    With her eyes still on her peeling, Cusha asked, "Ya tink mi born big?"


    Lyte thought and rummaged through her brain before she finally got it. "No, Cusha, I know you''re


    not a fool." She twisted her lips.


    "Jose good man," Cusha turned her head slightly. "I know him long since he was but an imp. Hee


    from good family. He do ya good, child."


    Lyte just stood against the threshold while her eyes nced from Cusha to back outside. Every so


    often she could hear children crying or ying out in the rain.


    "Do you wanna y dominoester on?" Lyte''s tongue dragged.


    "No, no, girl, I got much cooking and stewing to do. Perhaps tomorrow after de party."


    Coming back inside, Lyte began to wander towards her so called room, but not before taking one


    last nce at Cusha and asking, "Have you heard anything more from¡ª


    "No, child, I hear nuting from de mountain boys." Cusha moaned.


    Turning in abject defeat, Lyte pushed open the curtain that led to her mattress on the floor. She


    then pulled off her skirt and panties before dropping her naked body down onto the mat.


    "If ya go out again tonight, make sure ya stay away from de Lower End!" Cusha called out. "I hear dey


    do a lot of shootin'' all day!"


    Lyte heard her, but her body and spirit was entirely too weary to conjure a response. To her right


    was her little ck bible. She picked it up before aimlessly flicking through its ruffled pages.


    Soon, however, her arms were beginning to grow increasingly tired. She dropped the bible to the floor


    while a tear began to fall down from her left eye.


    Right then, Cusha began humming a tune. Ever since Lyte began staying with the woman she


    heard her hum it all the time. It was the same tune always, and every time Lyte could never get just


    what song it was, and she never bothered to ask. It just always seemed to grant her the serenity she so


    desired in an otherwise unwholesome situation. Nighttime was on its way. Lyte clinched her body


    as tight as she possibly could in stifling anticipation for what it yielded.


    Nighttime in Negril usually came quite quickly, and depending upon where in the city one resided, it


    arrived without much delight or mercy.

 Chapter 6

    Chapter 6


    "No, Dougie!" Lyte screamed herself awake.


    Breathing so heavy that she had to sit up on her mattress and catch her breath, the woman clutched


    her heaving chest and waited. The image of the little boy in her nightmare still remained, so much so


    that her own stomach began gurgling. Lyte looked all over the tiny, dark space in which she was


    resting to find only herself. The instant she reimed her bearings she immediately dropped her body


    back down onto the sweaty mattress andid there.


    From her face all the way down to her naked toes she wasyered in her own sweat. Lyte couldn''t


    stop breathing so rapidly. The dream was so intense and realistic that she had to shut her eyes


    repeatedly just to make sure she was still awake.


    She rolled over onto her left side and reached for a wristwatch that was lying on the floor next to her


    bible. Lyte held the watch up to the moonlight that was shining into her room to see the time that


    read 2:42 a.m.


    From there she dropped the watch andid back down again. With her eyes prating the ceiling


    above her she struggled with the thought of getting up, but her body had other reservations. It desired


    only to lie motionless on the mmy mattress and sulk. However, the longer Lyte rested the more


    intense her ramblings seized her to the point where she had to actually force her own body to move


    from its quietfort zone.


    She leaned over and reached for her bible that was lying next to her on the floor. There was a


    bookmark within the pages. With her shlight she turned directly to Joshua 1:9 and read carefully


    before cing the book back onto the floor.


    Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    With as much energy and bravery that she could muster, the young woman got up, put on a white tank-


    top shirt, a pair of torn blue jean shorts and a pair of sandals. She walked over to the foot of the


    mattress and picked up a heavy duffle bag from off the floor before sneaking her way out of both her


    room and the shack altogether.


    Making sure to shut the door behind her as quietly and securely as she could Lyte turned and


    ventured down the steps only to inadvertently bump into a little boy who was already seated on the


    stairs.


    Gasping for air, Lyte looked down. "Leo, what are you doing out here, boy?" She sat down next to


    the child.


    Leo couldn''t have been any more than nine or ten years old. Even in the darkness Lyte could see


    his shady image that appeared more troubled and bored than anything else.


    "Are you going out again?" Leo asked with his head resting on his right arm.


    "Yeah...I gotta make a run. What''s the matter? Why are you out here at this time of night?"


    Leo didn''t answer right away, he just sighed before looking up at Lyte. "My mama is in dere."


    Lyte looked over at a dimly lit shack to her immediate right. Upon a usual night there were


    countless sounds. From that of Reggae music strumming from someone''s nearby home, to a few


    vehicles tooling down the road. The reeking smell of Ganga was more belligerent after midnight than


    any other time of the day. But there was something keeping the little boy out of his own house that


    early morning, and Lyte realized right away that it had nothing to do with a nightmare; she could


    hear it very clearly from the steps she was seated on.


    Lyte just sighed before patting Leo on the back and saying, "Don''t worry, honey, your mother will


    be done in there sooner thanter."


    "I hate it when hees by." Leo hopelessly dropped his head.


    Lyte stared at the boy in the most sorrowful manner, as if she were in his shoes. "You know that


    your mother still and always will love you. Right now...she''s just going through some things. Be patient


    with her."


    Leo just looked up at Lyte. He began to sniff. The veryst thing she wanted was to see him cry.


    "Listen, if you want you can go up to Cusha''s and take a nap until it''s time to go to school, okay?"


    Leo shook his head before Lyte rubbed his back and got up.


    "I should be back before dawn." She somberly muttered.


    "Do you promise?"


    Lyte stood perfectly still on the steps for a brief moment before she turned her head and began


    down to the ground where she turned a corner to see a bike leaning up against a wall. She thennced


    her duffle bag on the bike''s handle and got on. In the dark of night Lyte rolled on down the


    lonesome highway for at least ten minutes or so before she eventually met up with the beach.


    She rode along before finallying to a grinding halt right in the middle. The moon was half full that


    evening, but the moon''s phases wasn''t anything that interested her. All she did was stand and watch as


    the shimmering waves rolled in and out just a couple of yards from her. It was such a warm night; the


    humidity had all but diminished, as did the rain that had fallen upon the city for thetter half of the


    previous day.


    Ever since Lyte arrived in Jamaica the one and only thing that granted her the only measure of


    peace and solitude was the sea. For that matter, before August, she had never been to a beach in her


    life. On most nights, all she would do was stare out at the water ever so endlessly. She would often


    wonder just where the sea would take a person had they ventured out into its great expanse. Or just


    what could have been lurking underneath.


    Then there came the times when she would just stall. Those were the moments she hated the most.


    Shaking her head, Lyte reached into her duffle bag and pulled out both a piece of paper and her


    shlight. She turned the light on and read the words that were scribbled on the paper.


    Lyte then looked straight ahead at a forest that resided before her, just ten yards forward. As soon


    as she put the paper back into her bag she rooted around until her hand connected with something


    warm and hard. She pulled out a sawed off shotgun. With her own sweaty hands she checked the


    chamber before climbing off of her bike and skittishly proceeding towards the dark bamboo forest.


    Her determination was phony, it always had been. The youngdy had yet to be ustomed to


    neither her surroundings nor her duty, and as luck would have had it, as slowly as she was walking, the


    forest drew closer faster and faster.


    She crept into the steamy forest with always trembling legs until her feet met with the wet fever grass.


    Lyte kept ncing back at the forest''s opening like it was an unshakable bad habit. She couldn''t


    believe that she was actually skulking about in the dark with a shotgun while in a foreignnd. Just the


    very thought of such an action was unfathomable to her.


    The gun in her right hand and the shlight in the left kept shaking incessantly as she crept onward.


    The sounds of crickets and bats were as loud as vehicles during rush hour. Every so often she could


    feel small creatures crawl and scamper around her feet, but looking down to see just what sort of


    animal it was never crossed her mind; she had to focus on no matter what.


    Lyte looked up at the moon that was partially hidden behind all the trees. She felt as long as she


    could at least see bits and pieces of it then she knew that she hadn''t gone too far out of bounds. Before


    long, Lyte stopped right before a small pond. She recalled what was written on the piece of paper


    and shined her light all around. The pond before her was murky and still, while the forest itself seemed


    to be eerily silent to where even the crickets came to a hush, and much to her dismay, Lyte


    noticed it.


    She continued to shine her light all around before hopelessly dropping her shoulders. Right as she was


    about to lower her gun, however, the pond ahead of her began to bubble. Lyte took her shlight


    and pointed it at themotion that was increasing with the passing seconds.


    The woman gradually began to back away before hearing what sounded like a very deep growl, or a


    large vehicle turning over. That was more than enough inspiration for her as Lyte spun around and


    raced away. She could hear something ssh out of the water and chase her down.


    "Help me!" She squealed as loud as she could.


    The woman sprinted across the grass as fast as she possibly could while the creature behind her


    growled even louder. Lyte wasn''t thinking. She was too terrified to even entertain the notion of


    looking back; all she could see ahead of her was the foot of the forest where her bike was resting.


    Even though there was only perhaps a few feet separating her and the sand, Lyte found it within


    herself to do somethingpletely out of character. She took a brief pause in between both running


    and breathing, turned back around and fired her shotgun at the oing brute.


    She fired as many rounds as her finger would allow before the gun''s chamber went empty, leaving only


    a clicking sound in its wake. The woman then copsed to the ground and shined her shlight to see a


    crocodile bleeding from its head down to its stomach.


    Lyte couldn''t even catch her breath. She turned and crawled on her hands and knees the rest of


    the way out of the forest until her hands touched the sand. Lyte rolled over onto her back and


    stared up at the moon that was illuminating her sweaty, shivering body. Every so often she would shine


    her light back into the forest only to catch glimpses of the drying animal that was still grunting its final


    breaths.


    Lyte had been terrified before, but gazing up at the moon and listening to the calm waves of the


    sea seemed to gradually bring her back to a jolting ease. Her arms were aching due to the gun''s


    ricochet effect. It caused her entire body to feel as if it were a quivering bowl of Jell-O.


    "I killed an alligator, mama." She muttered to herself while lying motionless on her back and sweating


    buckets into her eyes.

 Chapter 7

    Chapter 7


    "Please...speak to me." Arthur desperately groaned inside apacted and cold, dark room.


    His long legs were nearly touching his chin. The man could see faint traces of his breath every time he


    breathed in and out. The air inside his dwelling was thin and vapid. Just making the slightest move was


    a strenuous ordeal. But within all and such rancor, the man persisted in talking; he kept on and on


    incessantly beseeching until his throat began to go dry.


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Arthur could see his hands within the scant light that dared to creep in through various apertures inside


    hispartment. In his eyes they appeared more like alien appendages than his own body parts. For


    the first time in his life he didn''t even recognize either of them.


    "I call upon thee, my lord. Come to me and¡ª


    "Why do you call upon me?" The voice sounded annoyed.


    Arthur''s attention at that very second lit up with the exuberance of a child''s wonderment. Forgetting that


    he was inside such a tiny containment, the man attempted to sit up only to bump the top of his head


    against the ceiling.


    "I...I call upon you for aid." He stretched out his arms as far as he could. "I call upon you for strength; I


    long to feel its power in my veins once more."


    "But I once granted you aid and strength, and you perverted it." The voice calmly uttered.


    "But someting happened."


    For a few moments it was totally silent, and then the voice said, "You failed me. You and your sister."


    "But it was not my fault." Arthur implored. "Am I to be med for dis?"


    "You failed in your efforts. Besides...I have another charge in mind."


    "Please, grant me another opportunity!" He grieved. "Please, do not pass me by!"


    "And just why should I do such a thing? Especially after I made you a god?"


    Arthur sat and pondered for something rational to say that would hopefully appease his master. "I...I


    shall not fail thee again."


    "I granted favor to your entire family, and look what happened to them. All of them have been


    eliminated. I made you far more. I made you in my image, and you failed me for thest time."


    "Please...grant me, your favorite son, another chance." He pleaded. "I am worthy. I have served thee


    for years. I have delivered to thee all dat you have requested."


    "But you never gave me that woman and her child."


    "Then send me back to her home, and I shall¡ª


    "She is in your homnd." The voice cut him off.


    Suddenly, Arthur''s entire body grew limp, like he had just lost all semnce of hope. The man dropped


    his hands as his stomach turned over.


    "What are you willing to do in order to please me?"


    Looking back up, Arthur urgently replied, "Anyting, my lord! I am and always have been your beloved


    servant! I shall dispatch of both her and her offspring!"


    "Forget the child for now; he shall see his fate soon. Will you fail me again?"


    "No!" He eagerly said aloud. "I shall never fail my master again! I am worthy! More dan anyone else!"


    "I want her to suffer more than anyone else."


    There rested a deep quiet inside the space in which Arthur was sitting. His eyes gawked all over,


    awaiting a voice, sign or signal, but after two whole minutes of waiting the man''s body grew listless


    once more before the sound of heavy metal twisting and churning beside him erupted. Within a matter


    of seconds a bright light exploded into the space where Arthur was sequestered. The light was soon


    followed by a sudden st of cool air.


    "Alright, pal,e here!" A burly, white man grabbed Arthur by the shirt cor and yanked him out of


    what appeared to be a cell before dragging him across the massive deck of a cargo ship that was


    sailing out in the middle of the ocean.


    Arthur Bushard, wearing only a sleeveless undershirt and a pair of torn blue jeans with no shoes, was


    freezing in the open autumn air.


    His wild, grey hair and matching full beard made him look as if he were in his mid tote seventies,


    while his ck eyes could hardly adjust to the brightness of the daytime, despite it being cloudy out.


    The burly man, who wore a ck wool jacket and matching knit hat, wrapped a pair of handcuffs


    around Arthur''s wrists before standing him perfectly still in front of a shut door. For the first time in


    years Arthur was cold. His beard was waving to and fro in the salty air. He could hardly keep from


    shaking on the deck of the ship. Every so often he would nce over at his captor who proceeded to


    knock on the door. The man waited while looking back at Arthur with the most apprehensive re on


    his face, as though he wanted to do away with his prisoner more than anything else.


    The door soon opened to reveal the young, bearded white captain and arger white man right behind


    him. They both came out of the room with studious stares on their faces as if they were ready to tear


    Arthur apart. But it was the captain who stood face to face with Arthur while carefully eyeing him from


    head to toe.


    "This is him?" Captain Howell pointed at Arthur.


    "Yes, sir," the burly man said.


    The captain looked at Arthur once more before asking him, "So tell me, old timer, just how did you


    manage to get aboard this ship?"


    Dropping his head for a second or two, Arthur replied, "I seek to go back to Jamaica, my homnd."


    "Jamaica?" The captain said out loud. "Buddy, these are American waters."


    Raising his head, Arthur said, "I am a political refugee from dend of Jamaica."


    "You gotta be kidding me!" The burly man kicked the back of Arthur''s knees causing the man to drop


    face down onto the deck.


    "Just in case you''ve forgotten, you not only got on this boat illegally, but you also killed and attempted


    to eat three of my crewmen; three good men who had families," the captain patiently exined. "You


    just happened to kill those men on American waters."


    Looking up at the captain, Arthur gasped, "But I be a victim of circumstance."


    "And just what circumstance would that be?" The captain asked.


    "Circumstances beyond my control," Arthur wheezed. "I have traveled very, very far, and all I request is


    to be sent home."


    Kneeling down to his level, the captain remarked, "Thest ce you''re going is Jamaica. We just


    contacted the Coast Guard who will be arriving to pick you up and take you back to Florida where you


    will face charges. So as far as all of that political prisoner crap is concerned, you can take it to them.


    Pick this animal up."


    "Animal," Arthur bitterly mumbled under his breath as the burly man hoisted him back to his feet. "I tell


    you about an animal, mon." He then spoke, pointing his baleful eyes at the captain. "I am de worst


    animal in de world. I am de animal dates into your child''s room and swallows dem whole. I am de


    animal dat keeps you awake at night and makes you wish you was dead. I am de animal dat eats de


    night. I am de Devil."


    The captain, his first mate behind him and the burly man all stood and admired Arthur as though they


    were looking at a character from aic book of all things.


    The captain shook his head in amused disbelief before putting his hat on and sighing, "Make sure this


    hungry bastard doesn''t leave his cell until the Coast Guard shows up." He said to the burly man.


    "But, Captain, I don''t like this guy being on this ship." The burly man protested. "I get a bad vibe with


    these ind guys."


    "Look, just make sure he stays inside that cell." The captain insisted. "As long as he''s in there then he


    can''t¡ª


    Out of nowhere, the captain stopped talking. He grabbed his throat with his right hand and attempted


    once more to speak, but it appeared as if the words just wouldn''te out.


    "Captain, are you okay?" The crewman behind Howell came to his aid.


    "I...I can''t breathe." The captain copsed to his knees all of the sudden.


    Still grabbing at his throat, a trickle of ck ooze came drooling from out of the man''s mouth. The


    trickle was soon enough followed by a steady glob that covered the deck beneath him.


    "Holy shit, I told you these ind guys use that voodoo stuff on us white people!" The burly man yelled.


    The other crewman as well dropped right behind the captain, seemingly unable to speak. He, as well,


    began spewing thick, ck vomit that resembled oil. The burly man released Arthur before attempting


    to turn and run, only to grab his own throat and fall to the floor in a heap. He only chocked on his own


    filth.


    Arthur didn''t appear surprised or fazed by the disturbance. With squinted eyes he looked all around


    and listened as other crew members throughout the ship all gagged and gasped for life. Soon, the


    entire ship could be heard straining to a stuttering stop which in turn caused Arthur to slide and m


    into one of the many steel crates that were housed on the deck.


    A loud horn from the top of the deck red out as Arthur, with his cuffs still restraining him, got to his


    feet. He limped over to the edge of the ship and stared out at the boundless ocean water that


    separated him from his homnd.


    Suddenly, the cold, autumn wind didn''t feel so harsh to his old, withered skin anymore.

 Chapter 8

    Chapter 8


    "Okay, he we are." Audra pleasantly announced as she parked her blue, 1973 Monte Carlo in front of a


    three story apartment building.


    Charles sat in the passenger''s seat and looked out the window at the aged building in a subtle, if not


    somewhat passive re as to say that the tenement wasn''t what he expected.


    Slowly climbing out of the car with his cane in hand, Charles watched as Audra, dressed in a pair of


    brown corduroy pants and an orange jacket, practically raced around the vehicle to open the trunk.


    "Now don''t you go gettin'' my bags for me!" Charles limped over towards the woman. "I am perfectly


    capable of carrying my own stuff." The man politely smiled as he secured his two duffle bags from


    Audra.


    Smiling right back, Audra said, "Okay, but don''t you go trying to climb those stairs without me." She


    shut the trunk and walked beside Charles.


    The sharp, morning wind scooted both individuals up five stone steps that led to the front door of the


    brick building. Audra pushed open the door and held it for Charles behind her.


    "This door is left unlocked until 8 p.m." Audra exined. "Everyone has their own key, so if you need to


    get in then it shouldn''t be a problem."


    "I understand." Charles graciously made his way inside. "Shucks, at my age, I''m in the bed at 8 p.m."


    He snickered.


    "Me, too," Audraughed back.


    Charles stood for a moment or two and examined the downstairs area where to his immediate right


    was ten mailbox slots. Straight ahead was the kitchen, as well as another door just shy of the


    threshold.


    "As you can probably tell, this is the second floor." Audra presented. "I already put your name on your


    own mailbox.


    "Thank you very much." Charles grinned.


    "Down that way is the kitchen. Now, each apartment has its own icebox and stove, but the kitchen is


    primarily used for the big meals like Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter."


    "I see." Charles nodded his head.


    "And that door there leads down to the basement." Audra pointed. "We have a few folks in here that


    keep their bikes down there. We actually had a woman that tried to hide her Doberman down there


    once."


    "Are you serious?" Charles looked shocked.


    "Oh yes, I had to kick her behind outta here."


    All of the sudden, both Charles and Audra spun around at the moring of what sounded like feet


    tumbling down the stairs next to them. Charles staggered back a bit to see just what was happening.


    "Oh, it''s you!" Audra caught herself.


    It was a young, white man with a curly, brown afro who was clothed in an all blue jogging suit and


    tennis shoes.


    "Oh, sorry, Mrs. Watson, I was just on my way out." The man suddenly stopped short of the front door.


    "Robin, I want you to meet Mr. Mercer."


    "How are you, sir?" Robin dly extended his right hand.


    "Good to meet you, young fe!" Charles gregariously greeted the boy with a hearty handshake.


    "Mr. Mercer is gonna be staying in room six."


    "Oh yeah," Robin lit up. "That''s right next to me."


    "Well, that''s good to know!" Charles eximed as he studied Robin from head to toe.


    "Well, I gotta get out and get running." Robin began for the front door.


    "Get running?" Charles questioned. "Gettin'' your exercise in?"


    "Something like that, sir. You see, I''m training for the Olympic


    "You don''t say!" Charles grew bright-eyed.


    "Yes, sir, it''s been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid, or at least ever since Bruce Jenner."


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    "Oh, the fe on the cereal box," Charles smirked.


    "That''s right." Robinughed. "Well, everyone have a good day, and it was great meeting you, sir!"


    Robin said as he bolted out the door.


    "I''ll see ya around, young fe!"


    "He''s a good boy." Audra began for the upstairs. "Always runnin'' around here and there."


    "He''s a good boy, a good boy indeed." Charles followed in behind.


    "Can you make it up alright?" Audra turned with a worried face.


    "I''ll make it the best I can." Charles strained up the tall steps.


    "I''m sorry that all the rooms are upstairs." Audramented as she made it to the third floor.


    Meeting her, Charles said, "Now you stop apologizing, this ce is like a castle to me. Besides, the


    doctor said that I need all the exercise I can get. So those steps will do just fine."


    Audra carried on down the hallway with Charles bringing up the rear. With every door that they passed


    there seemed to be a different story attached. One door had The Floaters'', ''Float On,'' ying behind it,


    while another door had the smell of chicken frying on the other end.


    To Charles, and after so many months, everything that surrounded him was aplete and utter


    mystery. All the shut doors might as well have been dungeons as far as his superstitious intuition was


    concerned.


    "Here we are." Audra stood in front of apartment number six with a key ready to unlock the door.


    Charles waited and watched as she opened the door and stepped right in. Inside was a small stove, a


    couple of cabs above it and an icebox, while in another room adjacent from the tiny kitchen was


    what appeared to be the living area,plete with one couch, a small table beside it and a television in


    front of the couch.


    "Everything is self-exnatory as you can tell." Audra said.


    "It''s a whole lot bigger than myst ce, I can assure you that." Charles grinned from ear to ear.


    "Beyond that door is the bedroom." Audra directed. "Thest gentleman that was here made sure to


    keep the ce in good shape before he left."


    Charles just stood in the middle of the kitchen floor and gazed all around at his new environment with


    the same subtlety that he carried with him out of the car moments earlier. On the outside he was


    marveling, while on the inside he was falling.


    "I sure do hope and pray that you enjoy yourself here." Audra handed the key to Charles.


    "I''m quite sure I will, Mrs. Watson." He happily took the key.


    "Now wait a minute, you and I have known each other since July, and you''re still calling me Mrs.


    Watson. Why is that?"


    Blushing, Charles replied, "Well, that''s just the way I see it."


    Taking Charles by the hand, Audra leaned forward and said, "You can call me Audra. This is your home


    now."


    Charles humbly nodded before looking around some more and saying, "Now, I''m gonna tell you


    something, Mrs....Audra. I don''t n on just sitting around here and doing nothing morning, noon and


    night." He adamantly stated. "I n on going down to that little diner on the corner and seeing if they


    have anything open. Add to the fact that I get my early retirement, too."


    "But what about your condition," Audra looked concerned.


    Patting her on the hand, Charles replied, "I''ll make do with that."


    Audra ced her hands on her hips and stared around the apartment for a while before focusing back


    on Charles.


    "I''ll tell you what, we need a maintenance man around here. Thest one we had couldn''t seem to stay


    off the booze."


    "I know how to fix stuff." Charles'' eyes grew two sizesrger with excitement.


    "That''s good, and it definitely beats having to go out and look for work. You pick up the maintenance


    duties around here and we''ll see what we can do about your ren


    Charles just red back at Audra with a suspicious hint in his eyes, as though he could sense that the


    gears in her head were moving at lightning speed.


    "It''ll all work out for the better." She pressed her lips together.


    "I surely appreciate it, Audra. By the way, do you have a phone here? I wanna try and see if I can talk


    to my grand boy for a while."


    "It''s downstairs right before youe to the kitchen."


    "Good, good." Charles sighed. "I haven''t seen that little scratch in months."


    The two quietly stood opposite each other for at least ten seconds before Audra turned and began for


    the door.


    "I gotta go and see how Mrs. Howell in room four is doing." Audra mentioned. "She has Alzheimer''s


    and I don''t like leaving her alone for too long."


    "I surely understand." Charles hobbled over to the door. "And, Audra, thank you." He whispered.


    Audra herself just blushed as she turned and walked out. Charles shut the door all the way before


    turning back around and standing. The man remained in ce for the longest time, breathing in and out


    before picking up both of his bags and carrying on into the bedroom to find a perfectly made bed and a


    bureau seated right beside it. He ced his bags onto the floor before sitting his weary body down on


    the bed. There was a window in front of him that overlooked the still quiet, inner-city neighborhood. The


    sounds of children running to their school buses and freeway traffic growing increasingly louder had no


    choice but to enter into the bedroom.


    Charles dropped his head into his hands and stayed that way for a few minutes before raising back up


    and unzipping one of his bags. From within he pulled out a framed picture of his wife and son before


    cing it on the bureau next to his bed. He then took out two books and sat them both beside him on


    the bed.


    "Well, here we are again, you two." Charles thoughtfully mumbled at the picture.


    He sat and stared at the frame until a car''s horn from outside the window shattered his attention. It was


    a bit chilly inside the room, but with his jacket still on, Charles wasn''t in any particr rush to cut on the


    radiator, instead, heid down on the bed and looked up at the brown ceiling and id wallpaper that


    covered it.


    Ever since being inside the hospital for the past few months the man had the energy of an entire


    football team on Superbowl Sunday, but at that instant, inside his room, all that exuberance had


    vanished. All he could do was be a permanent fixture upon the bed he was upying. In his ears


    were varying sounds from outside and within the building, but all he could focus on was what was


    lingering about inside his own head. As bad as he wanted to get out of the hospital, was just as much


    as he wanted to leave his new home; suddenly, everything was non-existent.


    Ever so hesitantly Charles turned his eyes down at the books that were lying beside him on the bed.


    For a moment the man was uncertain on whether or not he should even entertain the idea of picking


    the books up, but after so much shifty eye movements his right hand just couldn''t contain itself any


    longer. Charles reached and pulled forward both books. He lifted one which on the cover read ''Shape-


    Shifting in the 20th Century.'' While the other title bore the name, ''Lycanthropy: Real or Hoax?''


    All Mr. Mercer could do wasy and stare dolefully at the books before his right hand grew too tired to


    hold them up any longer. Just the thought of having the books near him caused his body to spasm all


    over. The very subject was so beneath him, and yet, the books were still there beside him waiting to be


    read.


    In a mighty stretch Charles draped both of his arms across the bed to where they were dangling off to


    the sides. He remained that way for about a minute, rxing his drowsy eyes before his mind ultimately


    stumbled upon an explicit memory from a specific time ago. Every so gradually, he lifted both arms


    back to his chest before looking over and down at both sides of the floor and exhaling. The manid


    there in his bed for what seemed like, at least in his head, an eternity, before rolling over onto his side.


    "Lord...where am I?" He sighed so wearily.


    Charles wallowed about on the bed for a while before eventually sitting up and wiping his drowsy face.


    He sat and gazed all around the bedroom before getting up and taking his cane with him into the living


    room. Charles stood directly in the middle of the floor and just studied the small space from one end to


    the other in a sulking dismay, as to say that his surroundings were caving in on him. Soon, both of his


    hands began shaking right where he stood.


    He made a move towards the door. Before long, he found himself out in the hallway. Charles shut the


    door behind him and quietly crept down the hall past one door after another. Behind one door he could


    hear Audra and anotherdy converse, while beyond another he overheard a telephone ring


    incessantly. Charles kept on until he reached the stairs where he staggered on down and looked


    around the area for a moment or two.


    Past the mailboxes on the wall and into the kitchen he ventured right up until he met the basement


    door. Charles stood and stared at the white door in a sullen boldness; skittish, but far from afraid. Soon,


    he could hear someone begining down the stairs above him. That was when he swiftly opened the


    basement door and descended down the steps one by one until he made it to the very bottom. His right


    hand reached over and searched the wall until it connected with the switch.


    Instantly, the entire basement exploded with light. Directly in front of Charles was an old, huge furnace


    where he noticed the pilot light simmering from within its caged enclosure.


    To his right was a collection of boxes of all sizes and three bicycles parked right in front of them, while


    to his left was awnmower and other garden utensils. He even saw an extra mattress lying just shy of


    a tool cab where only a hammer rested.


    Just then, the fire from the furnace began to roar to life. Charles stood and watched the blue and


    orange mes inside the cage grow with such intensity.


    "Okay...here I am." Charles grunted. "I know you''re here in this ce with me. I know you''ve been


    hunting me down. Take me out now while you can."


    Charles stood and gawked all around at the basement where only he was scooting about. "You''ve been


    waiting for me to get out of that hospital; waiting for the right moment. Well...now is that time."


    But still no movement or action of any kind urred. The man''s heart didn''t even race or skip a single


    beat.


    "I''ll be seeing you around then...real soon." Charles defiantly grumbled as he turned and began for the


    stairs.


    He cut off the light switch and waited for a few seconds in the dark before heading back. Even before


    he could clear the steps, Charles could feel a seething heat slither down his back.

 Chapter 9

    Chapter 9


    "What has you so agitated, Jeremiah?" Dr. Roth asked seated behind his oak desk.


    Jeremiah, with a full beard and a faded scar on the right side of his forehead, stood at the window


    inside Roth''s office and stared down outside at the parking lot where fallen, red and orange leaves


    were scattering all over the ground in reckless abandon.


    "Ever since you arrived here you''ve done nothing but mumble and wander like a nomad." Roth


    mentioned with a glint of worry and concern in his voice.


    Adorned in a grey sweat suit and dirty sneakers, Jeremiah had to yank hiszy attention away from the


    window just so he could turn around and not only see the doctor, but also the office in which he had


    been inside for nearly an hour that uncannily reminded him of his own old workce.


    With a slight limp attached to his walk, Jeremiah began pacing the floor. "I...I don''t know what you want


    me to say." He rolled his eyes.


    "I just want you toe to terms with all that has you so wound up." Roth pleaded.


    Sniggering while tossing up his hands, Jeremiah replied, "Wound up? Are you kidding me, Dr. Roth?


    I''m not wound up, I''m ground chuck in the middle of the damn road."


    Taking his pen and writing on a piece of paper in front of him, Roth said, "Okay, that''s a start."


    Jeremiah stopped pacing and looked straight ahead at the older, rail thin, balding man whose sses


    appeared as if they were two seconds away from sliding right off of his face and onto his desk. Just


    watching Roth scribble away on his pad caused Jeremiah to ball up his fists. He could actually feel his


    own face turn red with fury the longer the man wrote.


    "What makes you feel that way?" Roth asked while still writing.


    Jeremiah continued to stare daggers at the man while saying, "You never told me that this would be a


    professional evaluation."


    Roth quit writing at that instant before cing his pen down and looking straight up at Jeremiah with a


    thoughtful presence engraved all over his face.


    "Jeremiah, I have known you ever since you were born. Your parents and I have been friends for over


    forty years. I would and could never do anything to jeopardize not only our trust, but also our friendship.


    With that being said, however, I would be remiss if as a doctor I did not conduct a professional opinion


    of your situation."


    Sighing, Jeremiah replied, "Wow, that makes me feel so optimistic. I feel like Dustin Hoffman right


    before the damn drill."


    "Why such a sarcastic remark," Roth looked confused.


    Shaking his head, Jeremiah replied, "I''ve been in here for about forty-nine minutes and nothing has


    been resolved. I can stand here and pull out every clich¨¦ in the book, every witty shred of denial and


    still wonder why I''m here to begin with."


    For a few moments the office sat perfectly quiet and still. Roth then stood up behind his desk. "Young


    man, please, have a seat."


    Jeremiah hesitated with all his might at first, but upon realizing that his right leg was in more pain than


    he would have admitted, he eventually walked over and took the chair that sat in front of Roth''s desk.


    Sitting himself back down in his seat, Roth said, "This ispletely off the record. I''ve wanted to speak


    with you ever since this past summer. You''ve gone above and beyond in avoiding me, as well as others


    in your life. All this sarcasm and belligerence that you''re carrying with you is not only harmful, but it is


    getting you nowhere as far as the truth is concerned."


    Jeremiah sat inside his chair and sulked like a child. Every word that Roth was speaking felt genuine,


    but their potency was saliva dropping into an ocean. The young man''s skin at that point was


    imprable as stone.


    "When you were a child, you were the most ambitious young man I had ever seen." Roth exined.


    "Always wanting to do something; never content with just being content. You always excelled at almost


    everything you put your hands to. You graduated at the top of your ss. Came into a prestigious


    institution where you were respected. Received a promotion to Boston of all ces. Then...then it all


    came to a screeching halt. So now I ask you, young man, what has you so agitated?"


    Jeremiah could have melted right there inside his chair. He wanted to be anywhere but in front of Dr.


    Roth. No matter what the man said, ''off the record'' only meant that he wouldn''t be writing on his pad


    anymore. The evaluation was still in progress as far as he was concerned.


    Sighing, Jeremiah said, "When my parents suggested that Ie to you, I was more than reluctant.


    But now that I''m actually in this office...on¡ª


    "On the other end of the desk," Roth jumped right in.


    Jeremiah lifted his eyes to the man at that moment in the most surprised manner possible. It wasn''t


    what he was going to say, but right then, the imprable force was gradually bing putty.


    "Jeremiah, look, I''m not here to shame you and put any me upon you. Your parents have been


    worried about your behavior and mindset ever since the incident back in July. I can totally understand


    that it was a traumatic situation, but with the exception of the police, you haven''t discussed the matter


    with anyone. Anytime someone brings it up you pull away."


    "So what is this," Jeremiah looked all around, "a corral to keep this raging bull inside?"


    "This is one friend to another trying to help you. Now, let''s discuss July."


    Jeremiah clung tightly to the chair''s handles as though he were about to take off on a roller coaster


    ride.


    "Both you and Gloria Cohen had left your office. What caused you to go with her in the first ce?"


    Dropping his head, Jeremiah exhaled, "I don''t know for sure. I just hopped into her vehicle and took off


    down the road with her. We talked and talked before we ended up at Cummins'' old house.


    Then...then."


    "Then Gloria was killed?"


    "Yeah," Jeremiah covered his mouth in shame.


    "What do you suppose caused Gloria to do what she did in the first ce?"


    For Jeremiah, his responses had to be well-crafted and systematic. No way was he going to allow Roth


    or anyone else for that matter to grab him by the throat and bury him.


    "Look, all I remember was being beaten half to death. Next thing I know, I wake up in this field."


    "But you were found nearly twenty miles away from Cummins'' house; nowhere near where Gloria was


    killed."


    "Yeah, that''s funny, isn''t it?" Jeremiah twisted his lips.


    "Were you aware that while Gloria was interned at Asndview she was under suicide watch?"


    Jeremiah''s attention right then perked up. "No...I didn''t know that." He gulped.


    "Did you know that Ms. Cohen was also hooked on heavy doses of valium for both depression and


    anxiety due to nightmares?"


    Still, and after so many months, Jeremiah could not find it within himself to give Gloria much attention,


    let alone any sort of sentiment. The woman just would not register in his conscience.


    "I have a deep feeling that something else urred while you were out there, Jeremiah." Roth


    scrupulously peered at the young man. "Something that you''re keeping hidden inside of you."


    "Dr. Roth, let me exin something to you." Jeremiah sat up. "You''re right, at one time I was ambitious.


    Full of hell-fire for sess. I had it all, great job, gorgeous wife. And then...then I met him."


    "I assume this ''him'' you are referring to is Isaac Mercer?"


    "You got it." He nonchntly nodded. "Can you tell me how a guy that I barely even knew could have


    such a profound effect on a person?"


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    "Well, I can¡ª


    "No, please don''t offer up any kind of babble about the effectiveness of humanity''s being. I studied it all


    back in school. That guy had something attached to him. I noticed it thest day I saw him alive, and all


    the days following. And now that same something has attached itself to me."


    Roth just sat and studied Jeremiah with the single most methodical stare imaginable. "Would that same


    something have anything to do with Julie losing the baby?"


    Jeremiah''s heart mmed against his own chest at that very instant. It took at least several seconds


    for him to regain conciseness.


    Shaking a fidgety right index finger, Jeremiah snidely remarked, "Nice try."


    "Jeremiah, I am in no way trying to aggravate you. But you know full well that I do not adhere to


    superstitions. What happened to Mercer was all due to his inability to conform to society upon his


    release from Asndview. These things happen to patients every so often."


    Jeremiah just sat and stared endlessly at Roth. There was no anger or bitterness inside of him, just


    in emptiness the likes even he himself hadn''t experienced before in his still young life. He couldn''t


    even rebuttal with one of his offhanded retorts.


    "Do you know what happened to me two weeks ago?" Jeremiah began picking at his fingernails.


    "By all means, tell me."


    "It was about eight p.m. I was sitting inside my apartment reading, when out of nowhere, both myself


    and my cat hear something bumping inside my bedroom closet. I get up and open the door only to find


    absolutely nothing inside. Then, after about five minutes, the bumping begins all over again. Once


    more, I look inside, nothing in there. I pull out all the clothes and shoes, and still find nothing. Then


    around say, one a.m., the same damn racket happens. By then, my cat runs out of the room scared to


    death. I get my shlight, open the door, and inside, what do I find? A collection of crayons lying on the


    damn floor."


    Shrugging his shoulders, Roth asked, "Just where did the crayonse from?"


    Jeremiah got up from out of his seat and began for the door. "It''s October, Dr. Roth." He dropped his


    shoulders. "Bing Crosby just died. Linus is looking for The Great Pumpkin again, and here I am...a Heb


    who can''t even walk straight. Do I look like I care about some girl who got ran over by a semi?"


    "Jeremiah, if we could just¡ª


    "Tell me, Mr. Roth, if this isn''t a professional evaluation, why didn''t we meet at your home? If we''re such


    great friends and all?"


    Roth just sat and bowed his head as to say his own exnation had eluded him. Jeremiah simply


    opened the office door and mmed it shut behind him before slipping his hands into his jacket


    pockets and dragging his feet down the hallway that led to the building''s exit.


    Before he approached his Camaro he spotted a payphone directly across the parking lot. He stood and


    looked at the booth for a few seconds before reaching into his pants pockets and pulling out a


    collection of quarters. Making his way to the phone, Jeremiah stepped inside the booth, shut the door


    behind him and picked up the phone. The emptiness inside of him made him feelpletely lethargic,


    if not deste. With his one quarter he dithered until the coin finally made its way into the slot.


    Jeremiah then dialed seven numbers and held his breath as long as he could while awaiting a


    response.


    "Hello?" A woman''s voice answered after four rings.


    "Hello? Ju...Julie?" Jeremiah nearly lost his ability to speak.


    The woman on the other end paused and then asked, "Jeri, is this you?"


    Jeremiah''s ears soon connected with his mind. "Oh...Justine," he exhaled. "I, uh, I thought you were


    your sister."


    "Uh, no...she''s not here." The youngdy sounded hopeless.


    "Oh, I see. Well, do you know when she''ll be returning?"


    Another pause came across the phone which was soon followed by a long sigh. "Jeri, I don''t quite


    know how to say this, but...Julie is gone."


    Jeremiah actually had to contemte the word ''gone'' for a second or two. Gone could have held many


    meanings. He held his breath in anticipation.


    "I understand. Well, can you tell her that¡ª


    "Jeri, you don''t understand. Julie is gone. Two weeks ago, she packed her bags and left Ohio."


    Jeremiah''s stomach not only dropped, it downright went t. His right leg began to tremble out of


    nowhere.


    "I...I didn''t know that." His voice faltered.


    "Yeah, she said something about moving to Rhode Ind. We have an aunt and uncle that live there. I


    think she just wants to start all over again, if you ask me."


    Unlike most that hear devastating news and pick the words that they want to hear, Jeremiah heard


    everything Justine said, right down to the veryst one. His leg just wouldn''t stop shaking


    "You know, Jeri, you and I never did get a chance to sit down and talk about what happened between


    us months ago." Justine carried on. "If you''re not too busy, perhaps we can meet up and¡ª


    But Jeremiah just dropped the phone while his mouth hung wide open. He then opened the booth''s


    door and stood outside. From left to right, leaves blew all over the parking lot while being shoved by the


    careless autumn wind. Above him was a grey sky littered with the puffiest clouds that looked as if rain


    could burst right out of them at any given moment.


    The young man carted himself back to his car where he got in and just sat. Beside him in the


    passenger seat were books, the types of literature that involved legends and lore of mythical creatures


    that could transform from one state to the other. Behind him in the small backseat were even more


    books pertaining to the same subject manner. Jeremiah sat amongst his collection of books inside his


    cool and quiet vehicle. Justine could atst be part of the ill-fated collection of the "gone and all


    but forgotten."


    His car keys were inside his pants pocket, but the allure of the gusting leaves outside the car kept the


    man in such a deep and foreboding trance that making even the slightest attempt to retrieve the keys


    seemedpletely pointless.

 Chapter 10

    Chapter 10


    With one mighty thrust of the hips Jeremiah exploded inside his condom before having his white,


    female partner hurriedly slip out from underneath him without letting him get hisst jerks in. The man


    could hardly catch his breath before he plunged his sweaty body down onto the bed. He was still


    shaking from head to toe while feeling the after effects of his ''surge.''


    He happened to look over to see his partner behave as though nothing had taken ce over the


    course of the past fifteen minutes. She was steadily puffing away on a cigarette while sitting perfectly


    naked and thin on the edge of the bed.


    Coming down, Jeremiah pulled his condom off before sitting up on his side of the bed. For the longest


    of times there settled a lingering quiet between the two inside thepact motel room in which they


    found themselves inside. Jeremiah listened to the woman cough in between puffs as though it were her


    first time smoking at all.


    "I sure hope this ce has better hot water than thest motel we went to." Thedy got up from off the


    bed and ventured into the nearby bathroom.


    Appearing fairly surprised, Jeremiah asked, "You''re heading out?"


    The sound of water from the faucet could be heard. "Yep," she replied. "Gotta get back out there!"


    "I see." The air in Jeremiah''s lungs evaporated. "I was kinda thinking perhaps we could stop by The


    Clover and grab a bite to eat."


    Cleansing herself at the sink, thedy replied, "You gotta understand, I''m still making up for ackluster


    summer after those stupid animal attacks and the curfew. It put a hamper on my business."


    "Speaking of animal attacks," Jeremiah suddenly jumped up and went over to the desk that was ced


    in front of the one window inside the room. "I meant to ask you about that." He said as he picked up


    one of the five books that were just lying on the desk.


    "Ask me about what?"


    Carrying his naked body back over to the bed, Jeremiah sat down and queried, "Do you think that it''s


    possible for a person to...I don''t know, change?"


    "How do you mean?" Thedy kept on with her business.


    "You know, change into something else?" He eagerly remarked. "If you really sit down and think about


    it, the attacks I mean, doesn''t it seem odd that these things just show up out of nowhere and then just


    vanish? I mean, who''s to say that their not still in this city, waiting for their next chance to strike? All


    these books that I got from the library seem to have onemon denominator; they all say that werew


    ¡ª


    "Look, kid," thedy came out of the bathroom still naked, "you''re a real nice guy. You''re actually the


    nicest John I''ve probably ever had." She said as she began picking up one article of clothing after


    another from off the floor and putting them on her body. "But to be perfectly honest, I''m 48 years old.


    I''m putting myself through school to get a degree so I can better myself. I hate to be so blunt, but, I


    really didn''t sign up for this job to make friends or have discussions."


    Jeremiah was still in the thralls of catching the breath that had eluded him moments ago. Thedy''s


    direct approach cut right through him like the dullest knife, shredding every nerve possible. One by one,


    her bra, panties, jeans, blouse and high-heeled boots were all put on in such a rush that it seemed as if


    she wasn''t there at all to begin with. Jeremiah himself was stillpletely naked.


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Walking around to his side of the bed, thedy asked, "Hey, don''t you have a ce of your own?"


    Coming back, Jeremiah replied, "Uh, yeah, I''ve got a pad."


    "Good, because we may have to meet up there next time," she sighed. "The fuzz around these parts is


    getting too heavy. I need this gig at least until January."


    "Yeah, sure, we can meet up at my ce." Jeremiah hesitantly mumbled.


    Thedy stood above the young man and stared a pitiful frown down at him. "Look, I can tell that you''re


    a real lonely guy. If it makes you feel any better, the next blowjob is on the house."


    Jeremiah''s eyes couldn''t connect with hers, he just kept his head down to his book, not reading the


    words, but rather trying not to make eye contact.


    "You''re a real cute kid." She shrugged her shoulders. "I can''t imagine why you''re having such a hard


    time finding a nice girl. Heck, if you need to, go see a shrink. Maybe he can figure you out." She said


    before turning and swiping a handful of dor bills from off the dresser and gracefully flying out the


    door. "Call me!" She blurted out as she shut the door behind her.


    Jeremiah continued to sulk on the bed. "I may not have any money next time." He whispered to himself


    in such a low tone that the words sounded non-existent.


    As soon as the wave of cool air from outside the door vanished within the room Jeremiah''s eyes


    managed to find themselves focusing back on the book that was lying on his barep.


    "I recall the x-rays." He mindlessly murmured. "The bone structure appeared re-configured. I wonder if


    bones can be stretched or twisted."


    The man kept on reciting past memories while reading each page as though multi-tasking was just a


    mere detail. His eyes kept racing through each and every paragraph with lightning ferocity, not missing


    even ama or question mark. When he had finished a particr chapter, Jeremiah reached in and


    pulled out a collection of papers that just happened to be buried in the back of the book. Written all over


    the pages were notes from front to back. A lot of the notes were gibberish, chicken scratch, while the


    rest was of the utmost importance, from his time with Isaac Mercer, all the way to his ordeal in the rainy


    pasture over the past summer. Jeremiah sat up and reached for his pen that was lying on the desk next


    to the rest of the books before sitting back down and doodling.


    "Is it possible that these supernatural beings can bring about other supernatural manifestations or


    urrences? Perhaps a paranormal exhibition," he asked himself while writing. "Is it possible that


    Isaac, as well, was suffering from this mdy? And if so, is it possible that I am...next?"


    Suddenly, Jeremiah stopped writing and gasped. The motel room was absolutely silent. His eyes then


    managed to nce over at the closet door which was closed.


    "Henei ma tov umanaim shevet achim gam yachad. Hinei ma tov umanaim Shevet achim gam


    yachad."


    With eyes locked solely on the closet, Jeremiah continued to sing verse after verse of the old Hebrew


    folk song without once taking his jittering eyes off of the closet.

 Chapter 11

    Chapter 11


    From out of the foamy, chilly sea Arthur emerged still clothed in only the same filthy garb that he had


    been trapped inside of for the past few months. His crippled and decrepit body stumbled upon the


    shore with the waves pushing him down every so often.


    His entire body felt just like a soaking sponge that was full of salt and seaweed. There were traces of


    bloodced all over his beard from where he had feasted upon fish on his journey back home. His sore


    legs and arms wobbled with every step he made onto the hot beach. His eyes could barely make out


    what was in front of him. To Arthur, everything was a blur thanks in part to the saltiness that had


    encrusted his eyelids.


    His long excursion in the water never seemed to weigh too heavily upon his mind; instead he was


    enamored with just being on the shores of his homnd after such a long period of time. Just being


    able to walk barefoot upon the sands granted him a momentary respite from the overbearing pain that


    both his body and soul was in.


    Arthur plodded across the near empty beach. The people in the far away distance were mere dots in


    his eyes. He could havemitted ghastly murder where he was and no one would have noticed. He


    kept on and on until a presence suddenly seized his entire being. Arthur stopped right where he was


    and gazed all around the open area before his eyes eventually caught sight of something just a few


    yards ahead of him. He stammered down the beach beforeing to what appeared to be pieces of


    burnt wood just scattered aimlessly on the shore. There were remnants of what looked to be the


    ragged remains of a former structure, possibly a tiny hut at one time.


    Arthur knelt down and studied the ck pieces of wood before his eyes connected with small, white


    fragments to his immediate left. The man reached over and picked up the objects before realizing what


    exactly they were.Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    He smelled and licked the bone fragments before he tossed them back down to the sand. Arthur then


    stood back up, and with a disgruntled re on his old face he began to walk away only to be suddenly


    halted by the sound of someone aching right behind him.


    Arthur slowly turned around as the waves from the sea came tickling at his feet. He listened to the


    agonizing grunt in front of him carry on before the ashes and bone fragments on the sand began to


    swirl about forming a sandy pair of legs, arms, hands and eventually a head from out of nowhere.


    Arthur stood inplete stillness at the astonishing sight that he of all people should have never been


    amazed at to begin with. The figure was nothing more than a form of ck dirt and sand, but the eyes


    that appeared from within it caused Arthur to fall to his knees in a heap.


    The figure stumbled about wheezing and gasping for air while standing above Arthur. "Why are you


    here?" The apparition grunted.


    Weeping with his face to the sand, Arthur replied, "Forgive me, papa, I have returned!"


    The thing stood and peered down at Arthur with its pair of white eyes. "But you return a disgrace, boy.


    You, above us all, were a god. Now...you are just like dey are."


    "No, papa, de master has granted me favor!" Arthur beseeched.


    "The master granted you de most of his favor, and you have perverted it."


    "Forgive me, papa!"


    "Stand before me, boy."


    At once Arthur stood back up only to have the creature p him right across the face which in turn


    caused him to fall backwards onto the sand.


    "You dare stand dere and plead your case!" The thing raised its scratchy voice. "You are not worthy of


    de gift. You are a disgrace to de master."


    "But I have taken my sister''s life!"


    "She is not my concern. I only seek to serve de master. Now, rise."


    Once more Arthur got to his feet while rubbing his stinging face. "Papa, if only you could see¡ª


    "I see only de son I wish I never had. You should have died back dere in dat country. I wish only death


    for you. I look upon you no more."


    "Papa," Arthur screamed with a raised right hand.


    Arthur helplessly watched as the waves from the sea came and doused the ghostpletely out of


    sight while only knocking him aside. Arthur looked up to see only sand and ck ash being carried


    back out to the sea. With tears in his eyes the man looked towards a forest before gathering his wits


    and walking away in hostile silence, never to look back again at the disgrace that caused him to think


    twice about departing his homnd to begin with.

 Chapter 12

    Chapter 12


    "What on earth is all that noise, child?" Lyte''s mother shouted over the phone.


    Rolling her eyes at both her mom and the passing trucks beside her as she stood at the phone booth


    on the sidewalk, Lyte said aloud, "It''s traffic, mama! I had to use the phone outside this time!"


    Lyte had to keep a close eye on not only her watch but also the passing traffic that would at times


    ssh water and mud up and onto the sidewalk where she was standing. She made sure to keep both


    her multi-colored apron and shoes as far away from the curb as possible.


    "How is dad doing?" Lyte nced all around at the various people walking past her up and down


    along the street and sidewalks.


    Sighing, her mother said, "He actually started back to work justst week."


    "Really," Lyte perked right up. "I bet you''re happy about that; not having to work anymore."


    "Oh no, I''m still gonna keep my job." Her mother quickly spoke up. "We need as much money as we


    can get our hands on. I''m just d that your father is able to work again. Hopefully his time off won''t


    affect his pension."


    "I''ll be sending another check next Friday." Lyte said. "I got shorted this week because...because


    the restaurant had a leak, and we had to cut our hours."


    "Don''t worry too much about your money. You need it more for your recovery."


    Lyte bit down on her bottom lip right then, just as she did almost every time they talked over the


    phone.


    "Isaac''s father called here the other day." Wilma bitterly muttered.


    "Oh yeah," Lyte asked with a hint of wonder in her tone. "How is he doing?"


    "He wanted to see the baby. I told him that that wouldn''t be a good idea."


    Exhaling, Lyte replied, "Mama, let Mr. Mercer see Isaiah. He hasn''t done anything wrong to


    anyone. That''s his grandson, too."


    Wilma breathed in and out before moaning, "I guess so. But do you think it''s safe to let him be alone


    with Isaiah?"


    Hopelessly grinning, Lyte said, "Mama, that man wouldn''t hurt a fly. Believe me, I should know.


    Listen, I have to get going. Let me talk to Isaiah real quick, please."


    Lyte waited until she could hear the boy yfully screaming for his ''mommy.'' All the young woman


    could do was hold her breath and try not to burst out into tears.


    "Hi, mommy," Isaiah blurted out.


    "Hi...hi, baby." She braced herself. "Have you been a good boy?"


    "Yeah," he shouted. "I go see Harem Grobtotters'' with papaw!"


    "You saw The Harlem Globetrotters?" Sheughed. "Did you like them?"


    "Yes! They y basketball!"


    Unable to contain her joy, Lyte said, "I know they do, baby."


    "Okay, I got go now!"


    "Okay, honey. I love you."


    "Love you!"


    Lyte couldn''t contain herself any longer. Her face immediately exploded into tears right there on the


    sidewalk in front of everyone to see.


    "I swear that child has such a loud voice." Wilma came back to the phone. "He''s gonna grow up to be a


    singer, I can guarantee that."


    Wiping her face, Lyte cleared her throat. "Is...is he still having nightmares about dogs?"


    "Off and on," Wilma''s voice faltered. "I let him sleep with me and your dad sometimes."


    "I wish so much I could be there with him." Lyte whimpered.


    "He''ll be just fine, girl. You just take care of your health. That''s all that matters right now."


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    "Please insert another quarter for five more minutes." The recording over the phone all of the sudden


    interrupted.


    "Mama, I''m almost out of time."


    "Go on back to work, Lynn, and we''ll talk tomorrow."


    "Okay, I love you, mama. And tell daddy I love him, too."


    "We love you too, baby girl."


    Lyte couldn''t hang up the phone quick enough. After so long, the irate noise of the traffic became


    all but soundless. All she had to do was hear her child and everyone and everything around her


    became like fog. The youngdy continued to wipe her face before she eventually got onto her bike


    and pedaled down the street that led to the nearby beach.


    Lyte was finding more and more that her phone calls home were bing more of a nuisance


    than a blessing. There wasn''t a day that passed by that she didn''t want to race to the airport and hop


    on the very first ne back to Ohio. She was beginning to believe that her journey was all but in her


    head, along with the events of the previous months.


    She harbored such thoughts ever since first arriving in Jamaica. Nothing about the country made her


    feel at ease. Almost everything and everyone had gotten on herst nerve; and the people that she


    could tolerate were beginning to wear thin upon her as well. From the food, the noise, the rain and the


    heat Lyte just wanted to drop dead right in the middle of the street and remain there until someone


    found it within themselves to bury her.


    The moment her bike rounded the bend that dead ended towards The Kabal her stomach immediately


    began twisting and churning. A sour taste began swirling about inside her mouth the closer she made it


    to the ce until her feet that were pedaling so fast at one point started to feel like sludge. She got off


    the bike andnced it to a wooden fence before speedily carrying herself to the backdoor. The very


    second she walked through the door the ruckus of waiters and cooks bantering back and forth in the


    kitchen rushed at her full bore. From one end to the other men and women raced around, avoiding one


    another in their daily course of discussing the menu.


    Lyte only wrapped her scarf around her already sweating head and inhaled the curry aroma that


    suffocated the already stifling kitchen.


    "Ya keep gettingter andter, girl!" Clea announced as she came flying through the swinging doors


    from the dining area.


    Lyte blushed as she swiped one of the order tickets from off the hanging turnstile and studied its


    writing. Clea stood next to Lyte and said nothing. Lyte could feel a presence beside her but her


    attention was far away.


    "Ya look like you''ve been cryin'', girl." Clea whispered into her ear.


    Jumping back, Lyte said, "Oh...I was just thinking about something."


    "Ya know she always gets dat way after talking to her son!" Another one of the waitresses loudly


    remarked as she carried arge te of food out into the dining room.


    Lyte just stared and rolled her eyes at the woman before starting for the dining room. But before


    she could take even one step, Clea took her by the hand and said, "Don''t ya let Mr. Hunta or dose


    Yankee boys we be servin'' all day see ya look like dat, girl."


    Instantly, Lyte went over to the small mirror on the wall next to the backdoor and examined herself.


    Within the mirror she saw a face flush with both tears and sorrow. She promptly wiped it all away


    before turning, brushing right past Clea and bolting out into the busy dining area. Her once distressed


    face had within the span of three seconds blossomed into a blissful bouquet of a smile and dreamy


    eyes that caused most patrons to instantaneously take notice of her. Lyte spotted her assigned


    table and right away made a mad dash over to where an older, white couple was already seated.


    "Hello, my name is Lyte, and I''ll be taking your order today." She continued to smile.


    "Oh, you''re actually an American!" The balding man looked up amazed.


    Taken aback, Lyte replied, "Yep, I sure am."


    "Wow, you have to be the first American we''ve seen since we''ve been here." Thedy appeared so


    amused. "We''re the Millers. I''m June, and this is Bill."


    "Oh really," Lyte began to rx a bit.


    "Yeah, we''ve been here now for the past two days, and we haven''t seen or heard an American up until


    now."


    "There''s actually a few scattered about here and there." Lyte said.


    "Whereabouts from the states are you from? If you don''t mind us asking," Bill queried.


    "I''m from Ohio."


    "Are you serious?" They both lit up. "We''re from Ohio, too!"


    Still hugging her smile, Lyte asked, "Wow, what a coincidence."


    "What city are you from?" June asked.


    "Cypress."


    "We''re from Canton. We''re here for our twentieth wedding anniversary." Bill enthusiastically gripped his


    wife''s hand. "It''s amazing that this town was started just a few years ago. " He marveled. "And by a


    gang of hippies, no less!"


    The conversationsted a bit longer than it should have for a waitress, but Lyte couldn''t seem to


    help herself. Just hearing another voice that didn''t sound like an inder''s caused her once tumbling


    stomach to gradually settle. It didn''t make a difference what color they were, they reminded her of


    home, and that alone made the young woman onlyugh all the harder at their over-exuberant


    behavior. Once she had taken their orders Lyte ran the ticket back to the kitchen. She then came


    back out and quickly went to her next assigned table where a well-dressed white man was seated with


    the menu hiding his face.


    "Hello, sir. Wee to The Kabal. Can I take your order?" She continued to shine.


    Livingston, adorned in a sandy-colored zer, matching cks and a white shirt, ced the menu


    down onto the table.


    "Good day, Love." He spoke in a more dignified vernacr. "It''s good to be here."


    "What can I get for you today, sir?"


    Smiling from cheek to cheek, Livingston stared straight at Lyte before saying, "I must say that I''ve


    been to this ce quite a few times, but I never knew they employed Americans."


    "Yeah, I''m only here for a little while, and then I''m heading right back home."


    ring with kindness, Livingston replied, "I see. I see. Well, what do you suggest?"


    "I seem to be a wee-bit sloggered, everyone!" Ss came stumbling out of nowhere with a shot ss


    full of bourbon and a loud, jovial mouth for everyone in the restaurant to hear.


    Amused, Lyte rolled her eyes at the drunken man while Livingston appeared on the thralls of


    getting up and separating the man''s head from the rest of his body.


    "You''ll have to forgive him." Lyte exined. "Sometimes it gets a little rowdy in here."


    "A bit garish for my taste," Livingston grumbled under his breath whileposing himself.


    Pointing down at the menu, Lyte said, "Well, the sweet potato hash is really good, so is the


    coconut soup."


    The second Lyte removed her eyes away from the menu she noticed that Livingston suddenly had


    an intriguing re staring right at her. It was an alluring, if not spaced out stare that caused the young


    lady''s smile to slowly dissipate.


    "I must say,ing from my homnd, I have never tried sweet potatoes before." Livingston ced


    his hands on the table.


    "Back in my country we prepare them a bit differently; but they''re still good here, too."


    "I''m awfully d to know that. This ce beats an old pub anytime, my dear."


    Lyte continued to stand at the table, practically melting inside her own tennis shoes. She wasn''t


    ttered, but rather anxious to take the man''s order.


    "I shall have your sweet potato hash, and I shall top it off with a bottle of your best rum."


    Lyte wrote down the man''s order. "Okay, and will that be all?"


    "And just one more thing," Livingston held up his right hand.


    Lyte waited for at least four seconds for the man to say what he was supposed to say. But when all


    he did was sit and stare the woman began to believe that he may have been yet another visiting ''hands


    on'' drunkard; in the afternoon, no less.


    "Could you please indulge me with just one answer?"


    With a pair of shifty eyes, the woman stuttered, "What would that be?"


    "Could you please direct me to the bathroom?" Livingston snickered.


    Unclenching her body, Lyte grinned and pointed, "Yeah, it''s down that hallway there."


    "I am your servant." He bowed his head.


    Walking away and shaking her head in an amused fashion, Lyte made her way into the kitchen.


    Just as soon as she stuck the order ticket to the turnstile one of the cooks called out, "Lynn, dere''s


    someone at de backdoor for ya!"


    Lyte paused for a few moments before cautiously walking to the door. She opened it and looked


    around only to see the alley and a few trash cans.


    "Over here." A man''s voice whispered.


    Stunned, Lyte looked to her left to see a young, ragged looking ck man standing behind the


    door. Lyte shut the backdoor behind her and approached the man.


    "I told you not toe by here." She folded her arms in disgust.


    Lyte then spun around to see another ragtag looking man approaching her from behind. They both


    had the appearance of homeless men. The smell about them was that of marijuana mixed with alcohol


    and must. Their beards were so full that only their eyes could be seen.


    "Do ya have our money?" One of the men held out his right hand.


    "I didn''t find what I was looking for, so no, I don''t have your damn money." Lyte said in a belligerent


    tone.


    "But we gave ya the directions to de mon." The other fellow remarked.


    Lyte turned around. "All I found was a swamp." She sternly replied. "I shot an alligator."


    At that instant both men burst out intoughter at her expense. "Ya not shoot an alligator, girl, ya shot a


    crocodile!"


    "Who cares?" She tossed up her arms. "We''ve been doing this for the past month, and still I have


    nothing! I''m not giving either of you anymore money! You''re both full of shit!"


    Lyte then attempted to turn and open the door, only to have both men grab and restrain her before


    mming her against the brick wall.


    "Ya American''s tink yae here and tell us what to do!" One of the men sneered into her face with his


    rank breath. "We want our money!"


    The other man whipped out a switchde and pressed it against Lyte''s face. All the woman could


    possibly do at that painstaking instant was hope to at least faint.


    "Give us our fuckin'' money or we cut your ck ass up and mail ya back to whitend!"


    Lyte was afraid, but her attackers were not men, rather, they were full of fur and fangs. That was all


    she could see threatening her with imminent death.


    "What be happenin'' out here!" An older ck man came rushing out the backdoor.


    Without warning, both of the attackers took off down the opposite end of the alley until they were no


    longer in sight.


    Clea, along with the older man and another man came out to console Lyte. "I tol you not to deal wit


    dem mountain boys, gal," Clea shouted. "Dey be nuttin'' but trouble and de devil!"


    But Lyte was without much emotion as the three cajoled her back inside the building. She was


    shaking from head to toe, her eyes were wide and jittery, but the fear was repressed. The fear itself


    was ever so present, and yet the thought of shedding even one tear never crossed her mind. Not once.


    "Come on in here and sit down." The manager of the restaurant said to Lyte.


    Slowly, Lyte sat down in a chair that was ced next to the backdoor. Everyone inside the kitchen


    stood and watched with worried eyes at the young woman who appearedpletely shell-shocked to


    the naked eye.


    "Good God, mon!" One of the cooks hollered.


    Everyone turned and looked at the man who just happened to be standing at the sink. The cook


    jumped back as ck ooze funneled out of and onto the floor like sludge. They all watched in dreaded


    horror as the liquid saturated the already dirty linoleum.


    "Get de mops!" The manager hysterically ordered as he himself raced from one end of the kitchen to


    the other.


    Lyte sat perfectly still and watched as everyone ran like crazed mice trying to soak up the ck


    filth before it reached the dining area. The muck was thick, and yet it somehow managed to seep like


    water throughout the kitchen in such a rapid movement. Lyte nced over at the sink where the


    ckness was still bubbling up and over. From her near fatal stabbing to a mysterious ooze taking over


    the kitchen was all she could withstand for the day.


    With not much on her mind Lyte simply got up from out of her chair and sshed across the floor,


    past one co-worker after another towards the dining area. The instant she entered into the dining room


    everyone within all stopped and stared as the woman left ck imprints on the floor that were tracked


    from the kitchen. Even Ss the drunk managed to pause his frivolity in order to view the mess that she


    was leaving in her wake as Lyte lethargically exited the restaurant altogether without looking


    back.

 Chapter 13

    Chapter 13


    The bathroom was simply an excuse.


    Livingston caught the entire incident in the alley from behind the safe confines of a cozy corner. Just as


    the two men were breathlessly sprinting down the long alley Livingston managed to cut right in front of


    them.


    "Just a second, boys," he said in his usual dialect. "I have some questions for you."


    "Move out of our way, whitey," one of the men anxiously shouted.


    Promptly, Livingston pulled out a wad of bills and waved them in front of both men. "Now, like I said, I


    have some questions for you." He calmly stated.


    Gradually, both men came down and nced at each other before going back to drooling over the


    money that was staring back at them.


    "I need to know why you were talking to that girl."


    Huffing and puffing, one of the men said, "Hey, mon, she American. She won know ''bout someone


    named...Bushard."


    "Yeah, we give her some bullshit directions." The other man stepped in. "She pay us and we send her


    on a wild goose chase!" He giggled.


    Livingston examined both men who appeared more delighted in their deception. "Why did you do that?"


    "She a stupid American girl, mon," one exined. "We need de money! We know no Bushard, but we


    know money! She desperate, mon!"


    "Hold it!" A megaphone rang out from behind.


    Immediately, Livingston spun around while the other two men turned tail and took off down the other


    end of the alley.


    Casually, three police officers all dressed in blue, short sleeved shirts and ck shorts came towards


    Livingston. The man made sure to stuff his money back into his pants pocket before cing a polite


    smile on his blushing face.


    "Good afternoon, Officers!" He reverted back to his ''nobleman''s'' English. "Would there be a problem?"


    The three officers all surrounded the man and inspected him from top to bottom as though it were the


    first time they had everid eyes on a white man before. One by one they pulled out their batons and


    began pping their left hands with them. Livingston on the other hand simply stood and watched as


    the ever so curious men circled him like vultures around rotting meat. He was sweating, but not from


    fear. He had Lyte on his mind; the police were a meager annoyance.


    "What''s your name, sir?" One of the officers stood in front of Livingston and asked.


    "The name is Livingston, sir." He respectfully replied.


    "Is dat a first orst name?"


    "Just Livingston, sir," he remarked in a cavalier tone.


    Soon, the other two officers stopped swirling about and stood behind the man. "What were you saying


    to dose two boys?"


    "Well, we were just having a bit of a discussion about what good ces to eat around these parts, sir."


    Appearing suspicious, the officer began rooting about inside Livingston''s pockets before he managed


    to pull out his wad of bills.


    "You must be a rich mon, Mr. Livingston." The officer purred.


    Livingston stiffened his upper lip as the red in his face increased. He stood and watched as the officer


    counted each and every bill before taking and nting the wad into his own pocket.


    "Ya sound like you''re from Britain or somewhere." One of the other officers said


    "Just from somewhere, sir," Livingston grinded his teeth.


    The officer in front of him approached Livingston face to face and sneered, "We don''t like your kind


    around here, mon."


    Livingston eye-balled the man right back. In his heart there was only contempt, the kind that longed for


    only the darkest desires. But he held on and dropped his head in a defeated manner.


    "I shall be more careful where I tread, officer." He humbly whispered.


    One by one the officers all turned and left Livingston all alone in the alley. He could hear themughing


    and carrying on all the way around the corner. But as he stood inplete and utter revulsion, there


    remained only the youngdy that served him back at the restaurant named Lyte. For the time


    being Livingston could withstand the abuse from the officers.


    He suddenly found the ability to move his legs forward. The man carried on down the alleyway and


    around a bend that led to the front of The Kabal and other various businesses. The very second he


    caught sight of Lyte aimlessly walking down the beach with her head hanging low the man


    stumbled backwards and watched quietly from a distance. In his eyes she appeared so lonely and


    destitute. She just plodded along as though her world had crashed into pieces. Livingston eyed her a


    few moments more before making sure she was out of sight, he then made his way around the corner,


    got into his truck and took off down the road.


    He traveled back into town with such a salty attitude that he made sure to ignore at least three traffic


    lights. He just nearly missed a mother walking across the street with her three children and the basket


    of fruit that she was carrying on top of her own head. There was so much drowning his mind all at once


    that just staying in a straightne on the road seemed all but impossible.


    Livingston veered off the road and into an alley. On a dime he stomped on the brake, screeching until


    he came to aplete stop in front of a particr backdoor. The man pressed on the truck''s horn


    repeatedly until Philippe came out. Livingston unlocked the passenger door and waited for the man to


    climb inside.


    "I just saw the girl you were talking about." Livingston said. "I''m not quite sure what her angle is yet, but


    I just got through speaking with a couple of blokes. By the way they described her, she''s either from


    some agency or else she''s the dumbest little tramp I''ve ever seen."


    Livingston stopped talking at that moment. He sat and studied Philippe who had the most empty and


    hopeless appearance on his shockingly pale face.


    "What''s got your knickers in a twist?" Livingston shrugged his shoulders.


    But Philippe couldn''t seem to answer, he just sat and stared out the window ahead of him as though he


    were anticipating something to happen right then.


    "Look alive, man!" Livingston snapped his fingers in front of Philippe''s face. "What''s your bloody


    problem?"


    Slowly turning his head, the young man responded in a skittish voice, "I tried to get in touch wit


    you...but I couldn''t."


    Appearing confused himself, Livingston griped, "What is this, a science-fiction movie? Do I look like I


    have the ability to carry a phone around in my pocket at all times? What the hell is with you, man?"


    Shaking his head in dismay, Philippe exined, "I was speaking wit Ejo, and he told mest night he


    was down at de old warehouse past Tunston, trying to buy some Ganga."


    "Ok, so," Livingston grew even more impatient.


    "He said dat dere was someone inside de building."


    "Probably a squatter," Livingston irately hollered. "So, what?"


    "It wasn''t a squatter, mon." Philippe''s eyes began to water.


    Livingston, at the very threshold of tolerance, rolled his eyes and stared at Philippe before an unsettling


    growl settled down inside his own stomach. Ever so steadily the man turned away from Philippe. His


    bottom lip started to quiver, as did his two hands, but he managed to conceal them both before


    ncing over at the glovepartment.


    "Is it a bloke?" Livingston meekly inquired.


    "Yeah...yeah, it is."


    Livingston wiped his forehead which had suddenly exploded into a violent sweat before saying,


    "Okay...I want you. I want you to find out where this girl rests."


    "But what about¡ª


    "Do as I tell you!" Livingston screamed. "You take care of her, and I''ll go check this out."


    Apprehensively nodding his head, Philippe got out of the truck and headed back into the building from


    which he exited. Livingston kept his eyes on the glovepartment a bit longer before eventually


    reaching over, opening it and pulling out a nine millimeter handgun.


    "God, I hate this country." He muttered at the hazy sky before putting the truck in gear and driving quite


    slowly down the alley.


    ***


    Livingston drove clear out of town and into a dested section of the city where only tall, brown weeds


    and several abandoned warehouses were located. His truck bumped up and down across various


    potholes that lined the lonely road until he came to a stop just a hundred yards shy of one specific


    warehouse.


    The man sat inside the warm truck for at least five whole minutes before mustering both the energy and


    bravery to get out and tread ever so carefully towards the broken down building. His stride was


    methodical if not wary. He had his gun in his right hand and even that didn''t seem to grant him a


    semnce of hope. The building was approaching far too fast for his liking.


    The second he reached the so called entrance Livingston immediately took off his zer and tossed it


    to the ground before sliding through the halfway opened steel door. The entire building, which


    consisted of tworge floors, smelled of musty rain. From one corner to the other was nothing but


    shattered windows. It was so empty and cavernous inside that every time Livingston made a step it


    echoed throughout.


    With his gun ahead of him, Livingston crept about. Drops of water would tap onto the floor every so


    often making it sound as if they were louder than they should have been. Just as Livingston was about


    to take the metal stairs up, he was abruptly halted by the sight of a ck liquid that was lying on the


    floor in front of him. He knelt down and poked at it with the tip of his weapon while noticing a shard of


    broken ss right beside him. Livingston picked up the ss and scraped at the ooze before managing


    to gather a few specs and lifting it to his nose. The mess had no smell to speak of, yet it felt so thick


    like msses. Livingston dropped the ss back to the floor before rising up and resuming his march


    upwards.


    "Are you really here, mon?" A deep voice echoed clear from the other side of the building.


    Out of fear, Livingston fired his gun before stumbling to the ground. In the process of falling he


    identally dropped his weapon to the floor, but before he could even attempt to reach for it he


    managed to gain a glimpse of the individual that was slowly making their way towards him.


    Livingston quickly got to his feet with gun in hand and adamantly pointed at the person who was


    graduallying in clearer. He could see a raggedy looking man who appeared as if he were in his


    late seventies. He had a grey beard and a pair of bare, crusty feet that looked as though they had


    walked from one end of the earth to the other. Livingston squinted as hard as he could. The sunlight


    was shining brightly into the warehouse and yet making out the man before him was such a strenuous


    task.


    "You there," Livingston yelled. "Halt, I say!"


    But the man continued on until he finally stopped just seven feet away from Livingston. Both men stood


    opposite the other in what was a nervous standoff, at least for Livingston.


    "Is it really you, my friend?" Arthur grunted.


    Livingston''s eyes nearly dropped right out of their sockets at that moment. The shaking gun that was


    inside his hand slowly dropped to his side.


    "What...what the bleeding hell is this?" He gasped for air. "Who...no, it can''t be."


    "I am here, mon." Arthur announced in a weary groan.


    Livingston stared more and more at Arthur''s stunning appearance in the most bbergasted manner.


    "What happened to you, for Christ''s sake?" The man''s tongue fumbled.


    Looking at himself from his feet all the way to his withered hands, Arthur said, "I am less dan whole."


    "Where the hell have you been?" Livingston asked. "Where''s your brother and sister at?"


    Arthur turned his head slightly, appearing as if he didn''t want to answer the question.


    "Are you deaf?" Livingston raised his voice. "I said¡ª


    "I hear you, mon." Arthur held up his right hand. "I hear you."


    "Okay then, if you hear me, then tell me, just where in the hell have you three been all these months?


    You said that what you had to do in America would take only a week. That was way back in July. Now


    look at you, you look like you''ve been to hell and back, literally."


    Arthur began pacing the floor, but all that action seemed to do was make Livingston all the more


    restless.


    "What is this?" He screamed. "I leave for a few months and everything that we''ve worked so hard for


    goes down the shithole!"


    "I see your men are now carrying guns." Arthur stopped pacing.


    Sniggering, Livingston said, "Well, you and your siblings did kill five of the men and several workers


    back in January. What did you expect?"


    Arthur just cut his eyes away as to say he didn''t want to hear another worde from the man''s


    mouth.


    Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    "I don''t understand all of this." Livingston cautiously began advancing towards Arthur. "You three go


    away for all these months. No one hears from you. Now look at you, you look like...


    But the closer Livingston got the more something just didn''t appear right to him. Yes, Arthur was a


    brazen mess, but something even more startling caught his attention at that painstaking moment. The


    man tried in vain to gain a glimpse of Arthur''s face, but Arthur kept looking down as if in a shameful


    manner.


    "Your...your eyes." Livingston lost his breath. "What happened to your eyes?"


    Arthur would not give an answer. The man only took off his tattered shirt to reveal a scorched chest and


    back. Parts of skin were still peeling and falling off onto the floor.


    Turning up his face, Livingston asked, "What on earth is happening here?"


    "I have been traveling far to reach my home." Arthur murmured. "Atst, my master has seen fit to


    bring me."


    "What the bloody hell is going on?" Livingston yelled. "I don''t understand any of this! Your brother and


    sister are nowhere to be found, you look like you just jumped out of a furnace, and your...eyes!"


    For a few minutes both men stood before each other in a silent stare down. Before long, Livingston


    found his gun pointed straight at Arthur. For the first time in their rtionship, the man found a potency


    that he had never discovered before. A newfound boldness emerged.


    Staring at the weapon, Arthur grinned, "Understand, I am now de only one who can seek out our


    fortune. I am finally dest."


    Livingston continued to point his gun at Arthur until his own right arm began to grow tired enough to


    where he had to lower it.


    "Yeah...I guess I understand." He mumbled. "But it still doesn''t ount for you being gone for all these


    months. Here I am thinking that things are on the level, only toe back and find out that you''re not


    even here. We should''ve had that cave mined in three months!" Livingston said aloud.


    "Shh," Arthur put his finger to his lips.


    "Don''t shh me!" Livingston fired back. "I hate this fucking country! Do you think I want to be running


    around this fucking world for the rest of my life? Those old Nazi war criminals, the ones that escaped


    execution, they''re down in South America and Cuba restingfortably! That''s where I should be


    rather than running from thew!"


    Arthur reached down to the floor, picked up the remains of his shirt and put it back on before turning to


    Livingston and saying, "I am in need of new garments."


    Livingston pressed his lips as tight as he could before bitterly replying, "I''m skint."


    Looking up at the crumbling ceiling, Arthur said, "Perhaps it is all for de better. My master requires a


    sacrifice."


    Rolling his eyes, Livingston snidely remarked, "Your master. Can''t you tell your master to help us find


    our diamonds quicker?"


    Arthur turned and gave Livingston a scornful ze the likes that actually had Livingston raising his gun


    all over again.


    "I require sustenance." Arthur grunted as he began for the door.


    Dropping his shoulders, Livingston sighed, "I told you that I was broke. We can go down to...wait, follow


    me."


    Slipping his gun into his waist, Livingston sidestepped Arthur on his way out the door and towards the


    truck at a hearty pace. "And pull your trousers up; no one wants to see your peter swinging all over the


    ce." Livingston nced backwards.

 Chapter 14

    Chapter 14


    It was around nine p.m. that evening. The air was warm and pleasant. The scent of rain could be


    smelled for miles away while lighting in the far off distance to the west could be seen shing off and


    on like zing fireworks.


    Livingston, still adorned in his dapper suit, brazenly walked towards the small police station that was


    located just five miles away from the Downtown district. The building itself was surrounded by nothing


    but waving palm trees and tall grass that looked as if it hadn''t been cut in months. From just a few feet


    away he could hear reggae musice from within the building. It wasn''t loud, but it was present


    enough for him to be nauseous. Without taking a single breath the man struck through the door to


    find six officers all lounging around the office like all their individual cares were cast to the four winds.


    The humidity inside the office was thick, which would have exined exactly why all six men were


    seated in front of various fans throughout.


    "Well, who be dis?" One of the officers managed to get up from out of his seat and approach the front


    desk.


    Livingston ruffled his hair with his hand, lifted his head and boldly said, "I''ve decided to file a


    comint."


    The officer, as well as the others behind him all looked at the man in the most confounded way. "Why


    ya here, mon?" The officer questioned.


    "I''d like to report a robbery."


    "Hold it!" One of the officers from behind stood up. "I remember dis snow white." He approached the


    desk. "He was disturbing de peace earlier today."


    "I''m afraid that''s a falsehood, my friend." Livingston remarked.


    "Are ya calling dis mon a liar?" the first officer asked.


    "I''m not calling anyone anything. I just want what was taken from me."


    The two officers gave one another casual, arrogant nces before returning their attention back to


    Livingston.


    "Look here, why ya go home before we take ya in for lyin."


    Livingston stood at the desk and counted all six men before the other two officers that osted him


    earlier in the day came down a series of stairs and made their way to the desk.


    "What be dis?" Themanding officer brazenly stood before Livingston.


    "Dis rasta mon call us liars." One of the officers proimed.


    "Is dat right?"


    "That is very much correct." Livingston put his hands on his hips.


    "Why ya here, mon? Our business be done."


    Stepping closer to the officer, Livingston replied, "I''m here to retrieve what you took from me."


    The officer turned and smiled at the other officers before looking back at Livingston. "What, ya crazy,


    mon? Yae all de way here to use me of taking yer money? Ya best to be gwan before we lock


    your white ass up!"


    Livingston stood and watched as all eight officersughed at him. That was when Livingston saw fit to


    take a step back, rub his sweaty neck and steadily say, "I deem it necessary to exin something to


    you blokes. What you see here before you may be the worst of the scwags, but I happen toe


    from stately nobility. You see, way back in the 1600''s, my ancestors sailed the world in search of great


    wealth. They were instrumental in colonization and trade; ve trade to be exact. My ancestors


    gathered rodents like yourselves and used each and every one to their means. Even on this very ind


    you call home, they prospered. You see, gentlemen, I am of a different breed, while you were, are and


    always shall be...cattle."


    The room became still and eerily quiet right then. The music that was ying clear in the back of the


    room was the only thing uttering a single sound. The air became increasingly stifling and ridged to the


    point where taking a breath became abor.


    "See here, check dis fucker from top to bottom," themanding officer ordered.


    At once, two other officers came and patted Livingston down, searching within his pockets and even


    inside his shirt.


    "He be clean." One officer said.


    Livingston once more counted the persons around him right before out of the corner of his right eye the


    sight of someone creeping down the steps came into view.


    It was then that the man rxed his body. "Do you still have my money, constable?" He uttered with a


    smirk.


    All of the sudden, one of the officers from behind shrieked out in terror as Arthur slit his throat from ear


    to ear with a razor de. At once, all the others instantly went into attack mode, all that is but the


    commanding officer who was taken from behind by Livingston and chocked within an inch of his life.


    Arthur was like a one man killing machine. One by one he managed to dispatch each officer that came


    after him. One was stabbed in the gut, while another in the eye. The remaining all stood in front of


    Arthur with their guns drawn. Arthur stood in a defensive posture, like a cat ready to pounce before two


    of the officers were sent flying backwards by an unseen force into the wall. Arthur seized one distracted


    officer and ripped out his throat before running over and stabbing the final one to death, leaving only


    pools of blood lying all over the floor.


    The officer that Livingston had in a choke hold atst sumbed to his fate before dropping to the floor


    in a heap. Livingston knelt down and checked the man''s pockets before pulling out a wad of bills and


    counting them.


    "Bloody baboon," Livingston snarled before taking the man''s gun, standing back up and shooting him in


    the head with it. "He probably spent the rest on some ck whore!"


    Livingston then walked over and noticed Arthur eating away at one of the dead officers he hadid


    waste to. The man turned his head in disgust before saying, "You and your master got what you


    needed; now we need to get outta here!"


    But Arthur wouldn''t responded, he just kept on chewing and salivating away as though he hadn''t eaten


    in weeks.


    Livingston approached the man from behind and grabbed him by the back. "Let''s go!"


    Arthur spun around and growled at him. It wasn''t an animalistic growl, but it was upsetting enough to


    have Livingston leap backwards out of fear while still holding to the gun he had just stolen.


    "All this for three pounds of diamonds," he indignantly whispered to himself with his head turned.


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    Standing back up and wiping his blood drenched mouth, Arthur replied, "Yes, and more where dose


    came from."


    Livingston stared only for a moment at Arthur before Arthur took a piece of paper from off one of the


    desks and used a lighter that was already ced beside it to ignite the paper.


    Livingston watched in anticipation as the man ced the ming paper onto the floor. "Quite practical,


    if you ask me." He quipped. "Is all well now?"


    Arthur never even bothered to nce at Livingston as he simply strolled out the front door.

 Chapter 15

    Chapter 15


    "As you can see here, in this once sparkling, blue sea, ckness has taken over. This gtinous filth


    has managed to wash ashore on this glorious ind. An ind known for its lush beauty and serene


    beaches, now...polluted beyond recognition.


    Could it be an environmental mistake? Some sort of oil leak? Or something even more sinister? Just


    last evening, one of the police stations went up in mes. Could the tumultuous elections here be just


    an ominous sign of the unsettling cmities that have taken control of this setting? Just what exactly is


    taking ce here on this once peaceful and¡ª


    "Uh, Ss, you''ve got someone making faces behind you." Reba made an X with her arms.


    Taken off guard, Ss spun around to see two, young white men waving at the camera in front of them


    as though they wanted to be stars.


    "Buzz off, ya braggards!" Ss shooed both of the annoying men away in the other direction before


    turning back to Reba and Robbie and dropping his shoulders, "Are we ever gonna get through this


    nightmare or am I gonna have to get drunk each and every day here?"


    Lyte, who was standing with her bike, along with some others, was steadily watching with sullen


    eyes as the waves brought more and more of the ck sludge onshore from out of the sea. The ooze


    didn''t saturate the entire beach, but it was prominent enough to where a sixty yard proximity had to be


    closed off in order to figure out what was happening.


    Lyte looked on as the always burdened Ss and his crew carried on down a more isted portion


    of the beach while others just examined. The Millers, who Lyte had just met the day before, stood


    at the foot of the waves hand in hand and just looked on in silent dismay before eventually turning and


    strolling away. For Lyte, deep down, she probably could have figured out what on earth was taking


    shape, but it just wasn''t in her to do so. She honestly could have cared less at that point about


    anything, let alone some nastiness that was washing ashore.


    The more people began to sift away from the scene that morning the more Lyte herself wanted to


    put more distance between her and the world. She sat down on the seat of her bike and trudged


    through the sand until her tires met with the road. She had to be at The Kabal in three hours, but that


    wasn''t registering in her lethargic brain. Ever since first arriving in Jamaica she wanted to go back


    home, but after the events of the day before, the longing to leave was within arm''s reach.


    Ever since leaving work the day before Lyte just wandered about the beach either staring out at


    the water or simply resting underneath a palm tree. She even managed to spend the night at the


    beach, allowing the waves to put her to a restful slumber. The woman tooled down the always busy


    street until she made it to her dwelling. Lyte ced her bike against the steps before slowly


    marching up. Her entire body felt like jelly; her hands didn''t even touch the railings as she plodded up


    the steps with the emptiest look on her sunburnt face.


    The very instant she approached the door she pushed it open only to have a hard object knock her to


    the ground. Lyte''s once sluggish body came to stunning life right then as she looked up to see a


    wild-eyed Cusha standing above her with a shaking, balled up right fist.


    "Where ya been, girl?" Cusha hollered as she continued to press towards Lyte.


    Lyte struggled to get to her feet but Cusha, with herrge girth, kept shoving her back to the floor.


    "Waa gwaan," the angry woman questioned.


    "What do you mean?" Lyte screamed back.


    "Look around ya, girl!"


    Lyte stopped scooting backwards long enough to take a view at the hovel that appeared even


    more unkempt than usual. The cooking pot, as well as the dining table and other pots and pans were


    strewn all over the floor. The curtains that concealed both bedrooms were torn down.


    "Where was yast night, girl?" Cusha continued to yell.


    "What happened here?"


    "Dey came in and tore me ce down, dat''s what!"


    "Who, dammit," Lyte said aloud.


    "Who knows?" Cusha tossed her arms all around. "But all dese years no onee in here and rob me


    until now!"


    Pointing at herself, Lyte asked, "You''re ming me?"


    "Dey ask for you, girl!"


    "Who," Lyte attempted to get up.


    But Cusha was too wound up to answer another question. The woman reached to the floor and picked


    up a sharp knife before pouncing on top of Lyte and pointing the utensil at her throat. The only


    thing Lyte could possibly do at that juncture was sweat.


    "Now, who are ya, and why ya here?"


    "I told you who I was!"


    "Dey say ya lookin'' for somebody! Ya never tell me you was lookin'' for somebody when ya showed up!"


    Lyte held her breath against the seething, sharp de that desired so much to carry out its user''s


    wishes.


    "I...I''m here looking for Arthur Bushard!"


    Cusha reared back and strangely studied Lyte. "Yae all de way here for dat," Cusha''s arm


    shook.


    "He tried to kill me and my son! I''m here searching for him!"


    Cusha peered straight into Lyte''s petrified eyes at that moment before rising to her feet. She stood


    and gawked all over at her dwelling before saying, "Yae all de way here to find de devil."


    Lyte was still lying on the floor, seemingly too horrified to even make a single move. "Do you know


    him?" She stuttered.


    Cusha gave Lyte the most intense eye roll she could before replying in a deep tone, "You a damn


    fool, child. Dat man and his family eat ya alive!"


    "I know, that''s why I¡ª


    "Shut ya mouth!" Cusha fired back. "Dat still not exin why dose mene here! Weh yuh a eh?"


    "I just told you what I was doing!"


    "But not de whole story," Cusha flung her de back to the floor.


    "My parents think I came all the way here for drug rehab! That''s why I''m able to be away for so long!


    They don''t even know what''s going on!"


    "Dey probably kick ya out of dere house, and den yae here to cause trouble for me!"


    "That''s not it!" Lyte leaned up against the wall. "All I''ve ever done since being here is work! I''ve


    never asked you or anyone else for anything! I never even asked to stay here! You invited me here!"


    "Dats ''cause ya was on de street! But now ya can go back to de streets! I have all dese headaches! I


    can''t sleep all dese nights, and now dis! Mi dun wit ya!"


    Exasperated both physically and mentally, Lyte couldn''t say another word. She attempted to head


    straight for her room only to have Cusha block her path.


    "No, ya go now! Ya be trouble for me!"


    Lyte just stood and stared at the old woman. With everything conjured within her she wanted more


    than anything to haul off and smack the woman to the floor. But Lyte withheld and simply


    sidestepped Cusha on her way out the door with a red face and two poked out lips. She stormed down


    the steps nearly tripping along the way before she made it to her bike and got on. Lyte had all but


    forgotten about what Cusha had said about someone looking for her. All she could see in front of her


    was endless degradation the likes she had never experienced before in her life. There was evil of all


    sorts and kinds surrounding her on a daily basis; her once blind eyes were atsting back to life.


    If an airne or boat couldn''t get her home, then swimming would be her final option.


    ***


    Lyte rode on until she could see the partially broken down fish stable straight ahead of her that sat


    along the other side of the beach. It, much like most of the other businesses on the ind, was a


    rundown shack-like ce of industry. Complete with rusted nks and six sturdy poles that supported


    it from just seven feet from off the sea water.


    Nearly crashing into the side of the building, Lyte hopped off of her bike before racing up the stairs,


    through the door and into the ce where the stench of seafood was nearly bludgeoning to the senses.


    There were several assembly lines: One for stripping fish, one for jellyfish, and another for shellfish and


    two others strictly for the detail of clubbing to death and mutting sea turtles. Ignoring each and every


    worker in the warm building Lyte carried on down one particr line until she could see her


    foreman who was speaking with two other employees.


    "Excuse me, Mr. Salva." Lyte tantly cut right in.


    Mr. Salva, an older, broad-shouldered man, turned to Lyte and smiled, "Ahh, one of my best. We


    still don''t have enough work for you to be here an entire week, Lynn."


    Shaking her head, Lyte remarked, "That''s not why I''m here. I just came to collect my final pay. I''m


    leaving."


    Mr. Salva lookedpletely taken aback by the sudden news. "How ya leave me? I still need you after


    de rainy season, Lynn." He pleaded.


    "I know, but I have to go home, and now." She said in a rushed pant. "That''s it, in and simple. I need


    to go home."


    Mr. Salva stood and nodded his head. "Okay, I understand. I pay ya what I owed ya from dest two


    weeks. Wait here."


    "Thank you." Lyte said as she watched the man walk away.


    From one corner of the building to the other was nothing but busy workers all too enthralled in their


    duties to even give her a simple nce. That was exactly the way she wanted it. Lyte didn''t need


    any stares or bad looks pointed in her direction. She was already a ball of nerves and rage, one false


    look and she would have burned the ughterhouse down to the ground.


    "Lynn." Jose stepped up behind Lyte.


    Lyte jumped at that second before turning around to see Jose''s perturbed face staring at her. "Oh,


    hey, Jose," she mumbled.


    "Why are you leaving?"


    "You heard that?" She grinned slightly.


    "You could hear a pin drop in dis ce."


    Lyte was in no mood to exin herself. She wanted out of the country like a prisoner. Jose was


    just another distraction.


    "Jose...you''ve been such a good friend to me. I''m sorry that it had toe to this."


    "Okay, here you are." Mr. Salva said as he came and handed Lyte her final pay.


    The woman took her money and shook Salva''s hand before beginning for the door. But Jose was


    incredibly resilient as he followed her out.


    "Lynn, let me speak wit you."


    Both Lyte and Jose took off down the steps before they came to a stop at her bicycle. "I know your


    father has a truck. Would he be able to take me to the airport?"


    "I can ask him." Jose nodded his head. "But...I just need to know someting. Are you leaving because of


    me?"


    All Lyte could do was giggle at the man''s ever so innocent face and voice that appeared and


    sounded almost like a child''s.


    She took Jose''s hand into her own and said, "You''ve been the only person that I could actually believe


    in since I''ve been here. It''s just that...I came here searching for something. But I''m a fool. Point nk,


    Jose, I''m a damn fool who needs to go home and be a mother. This was all a big, dumb mistake."


    Jose took both of Lyte''s hands. "Come with me, please."


    "To where," Lyte resisted.


    "Just follow me." Joseughed as he pulled Lyte along to the other side of the building.


    Like frolicking teenagers they ran across the sand beforeing to the rear part of the ughterhouse.


    Jose then led Lyte up some old rusted stairs that dead-ended at an equally rusted, metal door.


    Lyte was in no ill mood for any more surprises, but she could always trust Jose, no matter how


    cock-eyed his ns appeared to be at times. She always knew that he had the best of intentions in


    mind.


    Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    Jose shoved open the door and allowed Lyte to enter before him. He then shut the door before


    running over to the middle of the floor. It was a medium sized type of room. Lyte could tell that it


    hadn''t been used in quite a while. The metal walls were nearly peeling away while the floor itself felt as


    if it would copse at any moment. The roof seemed to be the only thing that looked remotely stable,


    even though every time they moved rust particles would sprinkle down to the floor.


    "Where are we?" Lyte shook.


    "Do not be afraid." Jose said as he picked up a cloth bag from off the floor.


    Lyte watched in braced anticipation as the man opened the bag and took out a small object which


    he promptly handed to Lyte.


    Lyte examined the thing from all angles before turning up her nose and looking straight at Jose.


    "Uh...what is it?"


    "It is a toy to give to your son."


    Lyte studied the thing once more. "What kind of toy?" She began to snigger oddly.


    "When I was a boy, I used to be scared of de thunderstorms. My father gave dat to me one day to keep


    my mind upied wit other tings dan de storm. It''s a spinning top."


    What Lyte was holding in her hands was a little, ck top with three, painted ck stones at the


    tip. She marveled at its archaic simplicity to where she had to actuallyugh a bit.


    "What is so funny?" Jose asked with his own smile.


    "I...I don''t know what to say."


    "It is a sea heart top." Jose approached Lyte and exined as he took the top, ced it on the


    floor and demonstrated it for her.


    Lyte stood and watched in a cute wonder at the man spin the toy within its own circle. Just for the


    briefest of moments she actually felt a breath of relief from all of the anarchy that had overtaken her so


    recently.


    "That''s very sweet, Jose." Lyte beamed.


    Standing back up, Jose handed Lyte the toy once more and said, "I don''t know what de weather in


    Ohio is like, but hopefully dis will make your son feel better whenever he is afraid."


    Lyte held the toy tight in her hand while holding back tears in her eyes. "Well, to be honest, right


    now in Ohio its autumn, and starting to get chilly. But I truly do thank you for this, my friend."


    "I was always hoping dat you and I could have been more dan friends. " He said with watery eyes.


    Feeling the weight of his emotion radiate throughout the shack they were inside, Lyte knew she


    had to soothe the situation and quickly before she too became enthralled.


    "Jose, I don''t want to leave this country with you thinking that I don''t like you. You were never a burden


    to me. I was supposed to do something here, and I failed."


    "What was it you were supposed to do?"


    Lyte pondered for a spell. "I was supposed to make me and my son''s lives a lot safer. But I


    guess...I guess I''ll have to find another way." Her heart nearly stopped.


    "At first I thought you were going to say dat you had a boyfriend back home."


    Giggling, Lyte replied, "Oh no, none of that. But I did know a man like you once."


    "Really," Jose asked.


    "Yeah," Lyte said. "He was a strong, brave...and sweet guy." She caught her breath.


    "Where is he now, though?"


    Lyte meekly dropped her head and bashfully murmured, "He''s a long way from this world." She


    then looked back at Jose. "But he helped me in ways I can never repay."


    "Well, all I can say is that I''m d I got to know you, Lyte Glover." Jose smiled as he embraced


    Lyte.


    Lyte returned the gesture, only her hug was more aggressive, as though she almost didn''t want to


    let the man go.


    "Perhaps one day I cane to America and see you."


    Lyte began to weep as she replied, "That would be great, if you don''t mind putting up with my


    foolish family." She giggled. "Damn you, Isaac." She then whispered ever so softly away from Jose''s


    ear.


    "I did not hear you." Jose slightly pulled away.


    Lyte wiped her nose before suddenly noticing a ckened figure standing right behind Jose. Just


    like that, Jose was struck with a blunt object to the back of his head which in turn caused both he and


    Lyte to fall backwards to the floor. Lyte screamed at the sight of Philippe and two other men


    with machine guns before Livingston approached from behind them.


    Livingston''s attire was ragged,plete with a ball cap, sweaty undershirt and a pair of dirty jeans and


    boots. He walked towards Lyte with a baseball bat in hand and stood above Jose.


    Lyte then looked at Jose who for a few moments remained motionless on the floor before his entire


    body began to go into convulsions right there before her. She attempted to rescue the man, but one of


    the henchmen restrained her. "He''s dying!" She hollered.


    "He''s already dead, love." Livingston said in a dry tenor.


    They all watched as Jose''s body stopped jerking before it came to aplete rest. Livingston then


    went over to where a rusted lever was located on the wall and pulled it down. The lever operated a


    hatch in the floor that revealed the water below. Livingston dragged Jose''s body over before kicking it


    down the hatch.


    "What are you doing?" Lyte screamed.


    Livingston then turned back around and faced the woman pointing, "You''ve been a very naughty little


    bird, Miss. Glover."


    Livingston motioned to the other henchman. The two men grabbed the woman by the arms and held


    her. Lyte began to cry out loud before Philippe covered her mouth.


    Livingston stood in front of the woman and asked, "Do you remember me?"


    Lyte shook her head up and down as sweat blinded her eyesight. Livingston then nodded at his


    men. Immediately, they tossed Lyte to the floor before beating her within an inch of her life.


    Punching her in the face and kicking her in the gut. Somehow, someway, within the thralls of the


    thrashing, Lyte managed to keep hold of the toy that Jose had given her.


    It never once left the solid grip of her right hand.

 Chapter 16

    Chapter 16


    The breathtaking p of warm, salty water brought a crushed and wounded Lyte to her senses.


    With her two swollen eyes the woman tried to look around, but all she could make out in front and from


    left to right were blurry splotches. The salty water that was sshed into her face began to singe the


    bloody wounds thatcerated her nearly naked body.


    She could feel her arms being restrained from above while her naked feet dangled beneath her. From


    her head all the way to her toes felt as if she had been beaten with spikes. Every inch of her body was


    in pain. Her face was a blood soaked mess and her clothes were nearly falling right off of her.


    "Good evening, my love." She heard Livingston''s voice draw near.


    The man was actually standing right in front of her. The sun had gone down for the day, which left the


    cabin bathing in a subdued warmness from antern that was burning within a corner of the room. The


    crashing waves outside weren''t at their highest tide as of yet. They sounded subtle and somewhat at


    ease still.


    "Everyone has gone home for the night." Livingston said as he paced back and forth in front of


    Lyte. "You''ll have to forgive my friends and their not so delicate approach with you. I had to stop


    them after a while before they ended up killing you altogether." Livingston then caressed her face.


    "You''re a rugged little thing, aren''t you? I can tell that you''ve been through a lot in your life."


    Lyte couldn''t even feel her own tongue or face for that matter. Everything around her was nothing


    but shapes.


    Lifting her chin up, Livingston said, "Yes...you were once a lovely little bird."


    "Jose." Lyte gagged on her own blood.


    "Oh, your boyfriend took a nice, long dive in the sea." Livingston inly remarked. "Did you know that


    this ind is surrounded by sharks? Nurse sharks, bull sharks; there''s even been some great white


    sightings here and there. If that answers your question."


    Lyte shut her eyes and tried not to imagine anymore cmitying to Jose''s already dead body


    that had been discarded like garbage.


    "Don''t be too distraught, my love. People vanish around here all the time. One more dead body


    washing ashore won''t exactly put a dent in the economy." Livingston stood back. "Now, my friends and


    I are very busy men, so I''m going to try and make this as painless as possible for you." He began to


    speak ever so politely. "We''re not here to y a round of the Ministers Cat; rather, I want some


    information from you. You see, ever since I returned, this American girl has been the talk all over town.


    And I am just dying to know what makes her so popr."


    "I''m nobody." Lyte struggled to cough.


    "Oh,e now, just like the old song goes, everyone is someone." He began to pace all over again.


    "You have to be someone, Lyte Glover, from Cypress, Ohio."


    Lyte''s eyes could make out the three other men standing at various points in the cabin with their


    weapons drawn. Though she couldn''t focus on their faces, she could tell all the same that they were


    ready at a moment''s notice to carry out any order that Livingston had in mind.


    "I want to know why you are here all the way from a ce called Ohio. And please don''t say for the


    luxurious beaches."


    Lyte dropped her head in agony at that second and slurred, "I was looking for someone."


    "Who might that be?"


    Lyte considered her answer at first. Whether wrong or correct, she realized that whatever she


    uttered would end up getting her killed.


    Poking out his right ear, Livingston said aloud, "Who did you say you were looking for again?"


    Lyte held her breath for as long as she possibly could without losing conciseness. "Just take what


    you want from me, please." She whispered.


    "Besides a tight snatch, what do you have that I want?" Livingston''s tenor grew sharp. "You came here


    searching for someone, and I want to know who that someone is. Because thest time I checked,


    women from the states don''t stay as tourists two and a half months just for the fun of it. Who are you


    working for? The FBI? CIA?"


    "I don''t work for anyone."


    "She lyin'', mon," Philippe shouted. "She be lookin'' for Arthur all dis time!"


    "You know that, and I know that, but what we don''t know is why she is looking for such a man."


    Livingston said as he once again approached Lyte face to face. "Tell me something, little girl, did


    you know that France, even till this very day, still performs beheadings?"


    Right then and there Lyte''s heart skipped just as many beats as it did months ago inside the old


    apartment building back home. All the twisting and turning she was doing suddenly ceased.


    "Thirty seconds. There was this doctor, who after a criminal was beheaded, took the dead man''s head


    and called out his name. The dead man''s eyes connected with the doctor''s before shutting all over


    again. The doctor once more called out the man''s name, and the man opened his eyes and looked at


    the doctor before he finally bled out, shut his eyes, and eventually died. Thirty seconds, that''s how long


    a severed head can live after it''s been separated from its body."


    Livingston then knelt down and picked up a long butcher knife from off the floor. Lyte started to


    wiggle back and forth with what little might she had left.


    "Just in case you''re wondering, I am trying to frighten you with true stories." He scraped his chin with


    the tip of the de. "I have taken both a woman''s heart, and her life before." Livingston then reached


    into his back pocket and took out a Proid of Isaiah.


    Lyte didn''t require much light in order to see her one and only purpose dangling in the man''s hand.


    "You wanna see him again? Tell us what we want to know."


    "I''m here for Arthur Bushard!" She gasped.


    Livingston turned around and began to walk away. "We know that already." He nonchntly replied.


    "I know what he is!"


    At that very moment, all four men paused. Livingston turned around and grinned, "We all know what he


    is. He''s a bloody man."


    From N?velDrama.Org.


    "No...I know what he turns into."


    It was as if a bomb had dropped on every soul inside the cabin. Each of the henchmen handed one


    another prating stares while Livingston skittishly stepped towards Lyte''s bludgeoned face.


    "Come again?" He continued to grin.


    "I said...I know what he turns into. Both he, and his sister. That''s why I''m here."


    "Hey, mon, what she gwan on about?" One of the other men began to back away.


    "Be silent." Livingston chided the man without even looking in his direction. "Just what sort of rubbish


    are you chattering about, girl?"


    "You heard me."


    "You know the Bushards?"


    "Yes...yes, I know them."


    "What, are you one of Arthur or Demeare''s jilted lovers?" Livingston chuckled.


    "Arthur and his sister came after me and my son. They both tried to kill us."


    Livingston stood before Lyte with a refined frown on his blushing face as to say he was at a loss for


    words.


    "Who do you work for?" His voice quivered.


    "I told you, I don''t work for anyone!"


    "Then how do you know about them?"


    Crying, Lyte replied, "They tried to kill us. My fianc¨¦ was one of them before he was killed."


    "I...I can''t, mon! I can''t be here!" Another one of the henchmen began to be unhinged.


    "Shut him up!" Livingston screamed at Philippe.


    The tension inside the room was as thick as billowing smoke from a zing inferno. Everyone gathered


    seemed to be either overwrought or breathless. Lyte could see Livingston nervously fidgeting with


    his chin while pacing a mad dash across the floor.


    "Hey, mon, how she know about¡ª


    "Be quiet!" Livingston yelled before facing Lyte once again. "I''m going to entertain this a bit more. If


    you know about the Bushards, how is it that you are still here to tell the story?"


    "I...I saw Arthur kill his sister." She strained to say.


    Livingston stood back and stared awkwardly at Lyte. "He...he killed her?"


    "Yes."


    "But what about Demarae," Livingston pointed.


    "He probably killed him, too." Lyte slobbered onto the floor.


    "So...how did you manage to survive them?"


    Shaking her limp head, Lyte exhaled, "God only knows."


    "God, huh," Livingston shrugged his shoulders. "So, you know all about that famed n. Tell us, just to


    make double sure we''re on the same page, you''ve seen them kill before?"


    "Yes." She gulped.


    Livingston assuredly nodded his head. "I see. Now tell me, have you seen their...alterations as well?"


    Lyte hopelessly dropped her head. Her mouth could hardly even move at that point, and her


    tongue was all but exhausted.


    "Well, I just find it hard to believe that a person would travel all the way from the states to this ind


    just to tell such a fantastic story." Livingston approached Lyte. "But I am surprised by all of this. I


    am quite surprised."


    "We need to kill her." Philippe stammered. "If she knows about de Bushards, den she knows about our


    operation, too."


    "Maybe not," Livingston said. "If what she says is true, then I''m pretty sure thest thing on her mind is


    our little operation. But my partner is correct in one thing, we do need to eliminate you. If you''ve


    survived Arthur and his siblings this far, then you could endanger our..." Livingston paused once more;


    however, his gasp was more elongated than ever before. "Wait a second," he smirked, "are you the


    reason he came back here the other day in such a shambles?"


    Lyte lifted her head at that second and oddly murmured, "Other day?"


    "How were you able to take his...it doesn''t matter now." He relented.


    Lyte''s feeble mind began racing at the speed of light. All she could focus on in her weak state was


    Livingston mentioning that Arthur was back. Suddenly, everything, from leaving home to arriving in


    Jamaica caused her already nauseous stomach to churn all the more violently. Without notice, Lyte


    vomited all over the floor, causing Livingston to jump back somewhat. She then looked up at the man,


    and out of a gut rage spat blood at him.


    "I''m through." Her deep voice grunted.


    Livingston stood before her with a look of misfortune written all over his sweaty face, as though he


    actually felt a swell of pity for the woman.


    "It''s funny, in one form or another...we all meet the devil." His voice wavered. "Little Red Riding Hood.


    But nheless, you need to be removed."


    "We''ll shoot her!" Philippe stepped forward with his gun pointed at Lyte.


    "No," Livingston halted the man, "the constables are still searching for the ones that set fire to the


    station. Thest thing we need is a bullet riddled body floating about."


    "Then we chop her into pieces."


    Lyte watched as Livingston stood and pondered such an option before he walked over behind her.


    She could hear something crank right before a portion of the floor beneath her slid away revealing only


    ckness.


    Livingston, with hisntern in hand, came back around and stood in front of the woman once more.


    Lyte looked down to see blue water underneath her.


    "Star-crossed lovers in an ocean paradise," Livingston stated. "One had to leave, which in turn left the


    other heartbroken. When they were both discovered, they had washed ashore, side by side. Perhaps


    one day someone will write a romance novel of such a fable. You''re just not cut out to be a killer, I''m


    afraid. Goodbye, Juliet."


    With that, Livingston handed thentern to one of the men before taking his butcher knife and slicing


    the rope that suspended Lyte in mid-air, instantly sending her body plummeting into the salty water


    below.


    With her hands still tied together, Lyte didn''t even attempt to hold her breath, she just let go and


    allowed the water to fill her lungs while descending deeper into the sea.

 Chapter 17

    Chapter 17


    Charles, with his cane in one hand, and a tool box and steel snake gathered in the other knocked on


    door number 5 and waited until Robin opened it.


    "Good morning, young fe!" Charles said with a wide open smile.


    "How are you, Mr. Mercer?" Robin smiled back while stepping aside to allow the man in. "d you


    could show up on a Sunday morning."


    Coming in, Charles replied, "Don''t you worry about that. I got nothing better to do on these mornings


    anymore."


    Robin''s apartment was as cluttered and out of shape as one would possibly expect from such a young


    man. Jiffy Pop bags lying on the couch, sneakers scattered in various spots around the living room


    floor and a few smelly clothes draped on and across one of the chairs.


    Charles just dragged himself along as though he were more than ustomed to the scene. "I figure


    the more I keep myself busy, then that''ll keep me out of trouble." Charles humorously stated.


    "I try to do the same thing myself, sir." Robin remarked as he stood before Charles.


    Charles couldn''t help but to take notice of Robin''s t-shirt that bore a very curious image pasted on the


    front. For a second or two Charles had to take a double nce.


    "I''ve seen that fe before somewhere." He pointed at the shirt with a grin.


    "Oh, this," Robin proudly poked out his chest. "It''s Lord Vader from Star Wars."


    "Oh, that movie," Charles yfully rolled his eyes. "Man, you can''t go anywhere without hearing about


    that movie."


    "I saw it three times at the theatre over the summer."


    "Three times," Charles nearly dropped to the floor. "I ain''t never heard of no one seeing a movie three


    times! It must be that darn good."


    Laughing out loud, Robin said, "It''s incredible! I''ve never seen anything like it. I sure hope they make a


    sequel sometime soon."


    Shaking his head in jovial disbelief, Charles said, "My boy used to love going to the movies. I never did


    take him to see...a movie." His voice suddenly hesitated without warning. "I never did." He then bowed


    his head for a moment.


    Sitting himself down on the messy couch, Robin said, "I think it''s still ying down at the Olen Theater.


    If you''re lucky you can still catch it before it goes away for good."


    Waving his hand, Charles responded, "No thanks, Hollywood can have it. I went to the drug store down


    the street yesterday, and there were all these little kids in there buying costumes that look like that fe


    on your shirt; and some Bigfoot character, too."


    Giggling, Robin said, "Oh, you must mean Chewba."


    "I don''t know what his name was, but it looked pretty darn gruesome to me."


    Just as Charles was about to make his way into the kitchen, his attention was suddenly snatched by


    Robin picking up a small, ck contraption from off the floor in front of him. The thing had a ck stick


    protruding from out of its center. The man watched in odd curiosity as the young man turned on the


    television in front of him and stuck a cartridge inside a medium sized box.


    Drawing closer to the animated TV, Charles, with his mouth hanging wide open, asked in astonishment,


    "What on God''s green earth is that?"


    "Oh, it''s an Atari system, Mr. Mercer." Robin turned around.


    But all Charles could see was shapes and hear soundse from the television as if the thing were


    from another.


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    "It''s a video game." Robin pressed on.


    Charles shook his head, "A game, you say?"


    "Sure." Robin held up another cartridge. "I''ve got Video Olympics in the box right now, of course, and


    this one here is Combat."


    "Boy, I''m sure d my son never asked me and his mama for anything like that. We''d never know what


    in the world he was talkin'' about."


    "I figure I''d get in as much practice as I can when ites to the decathlon, even if it is just a game.


    Definitely saves on not having to worry about gas."


    "I hear you there."


    "So, how do you like it here so far?"


    "It''s just fine." Charles smiled. "Mrs. Watson sure does a great job keeping everything running smoothly


    around here."


    "I know, she''s really a nicedy. She''s everywhere in this city. Ever since the incident back at that


    shelter some months ago, she''s always trying to keep busy."


    Charles stood and red on at Robin for a few seconds in the most peculiar fashion. "Tell me, young


    fe, does Mrs. Watson ever talk about...you know what? It doesn''t matter. What does matter is that


    yesterday I finally got to see my grandson after so many months."


    "That must''ve been great."


    "It sure was." Charles blushed with a shining smirk. "That little scratch is getting bigger and bigger


    every time I see him. He''s shooting up like a weed like his father did at that age. But I''d sure like to


    know where the boy''s mama is though. When I asked Mrs. Glover she just changed the subject on


    me."


    Robin stopped ying his game and turned around to face Charles. "I take it she and your son don''t


    get along these days?" He asked with a straight face.


    Charles turned away for a brief second before looking back and saying in a polite tone, "My son passed


    on earlier this year."


    Blushing, Robin replied, "Oh...I''m sorry to hear that."


    "Oh well, these things happen, I guess. Now, if you''ll just point me to your kitchen, I''ll see what I can


    get my hands into." He grew back his smile in an instant.


    Jumping up from off the couch, Robin led the way through a curtain that revealed the tiny kitchen on


    the other end.


    Approaching the sink, Robin announced, "Well...here it is."


    Charles stepped forward and peered down into the sink to find it filled to the brim with thick, ck ooze.


    "At first I thought it was a sewage backup, but it doesn''t have any smell." Robinmented.


    "So I see." Charles carefully observed as he ced his cane down onto the floor, along with both his


    toolbox and snake. Then, from out of his pocket he pulled out a pair of orange, rubber gloves and


    slipped them onto his hands.


    "One moment I was getting some water after my run, the next thing I know, this crapes out." Robin


    stated.


    "It''s probably just a¡ª


    Right then, the phone from the other room red out. "I gotta get that. It''s my mom."


    "Go right ahead, my boy. Go right ahead." Charles said as he dipped his hands into the sink.


    He felt all around until his hands eventually connected with something solid. Once he was able to grab


    a hold of it he began to lift it back up. But what he brought out was something that not even he could


    have expected. It was his son''s head dripping with ckness all over. Out of shock, Charles promptly


    dropped it back inside the sink and watched as it floated for a while before submerging back under.


    He stood and stared for a brief moment before muttering at the sink, "So...you''ve found me."


    The man hobbled backwards until his backside met with a small table. Immediately, his body began to


    shiver. His eyes could not peel themselves away from the sink. He waited and waited for something


    else to ur; anything that would cause him to attack something within reach.


    "Did you find the problem?" Robin came back into the kitchen.


    "Huh?" Charles shook back to life. "Oh...I was just taking a long view." He wiped the sweat from his


    brow before reaching down and picking up his snake.


    Then, ever so slowly, he approached the sink and shoved the snake into the drain. With hesitant


    muscles the man wrenched and pulled until the sound of a belch could be heard.


    Both he and Robin stood in breathless anticipation, even though their reasons for the eventual


    conclusion couldn''t have been anymore contrasting. It took the water at least thirty seconds to empty


    out. For Charles, it was those same thirty seconds thatsted for an eternity. He actually attempted to


    stand in front of an excited Robin, but the young man was like a toddler awaiting a prize on the other


    end. He stood next to Charles while pumping his fists by his side.


    "C''mon, c''mon," Robin panted.


    Soon, the white of the bottom of the sink appeared, and only the white. Everything else, as far as


    Charles was concerned, was nowhere to be found.


    "Thank God!" Robin exhaled.


    "Yes...thank you, Lord." Charles whispered with his stone face drawn down to the floor''s linoleum.


    Turning to Charles, Robin said, "You don''t know how much this really means to have youe down


    here right away like you did, Mr. Mercer. Ourst maintenance guy might as well have been dead with


    the way he worked."


    Taking off his gloves and wiping his hands, Charles replied, "Don''t mention it, my boy. If it happens


    again just let me know." He mentioned while gathering his belongings and heading out of the kitchen.


    "So, if you don''t mind me asking, how did you end up hurting yourself?" Robin followed in behind.


    Stopping between the living room and the front door, Charles turned around and said, "Well, a few


    months ago I had a real bad...ident. The doctor said that I''d never walk again. But the good Lord


    had other ns. I just won''t be able to walk straight ever again. That just goes to show you, young


    man, don''t ever grow old." Heughed. "Now, let me ask you a question."


    "Sure."


    "Why are you so far away from home? You look like you should still be in high school."


    Blushing a red streak, Robin remarked, "Well...my parents and I don''t get along too well these days. My


    father wants me to be a banker just like him. When I told him that I wanted to enter the Olympics, let''s


    just say that he wasn''t too enthusiastic about the idea. In his own words", ''No son of mine is going to


    be a running joke.''


    Patting Robin on the shoulder, Charles said, "It may not seem like it at times, but us parents only want


    the best for our kids. You''ll be wise to remember that."


    With his hands on his hips, Robin nodded his head. "I can dig it." He modestly responded.


    "Good." Charles smiled. "Well, I''ll be seeing you around."


    "Take care, Mr. Mercer, and thanks a lot!"


    "You''re wee, young fe!"


    Just as Charles was about to head back down the hallway that led to the stairs, all of the sudden, door


    number 8 on the other end of the hallway abruptly opened. Charles spun around to see a fairly young


    ck man in a white, sleeveless undershirt. He looked as if he hadn''t slept or shaved in weeks. The


    sound of The Floaters'', ''Float on'' from inside his apartment shouted out into the hallway to where every


    word could be heard perfectly.


    "Oh, good morning, sir," Charles stood back startled with a gentle smile.


    But the man said nothing at first; he just stared on at Mercer as if he were intruding on some sort of


    turf. His look was gruff and drowsy.


    "Oh...I thought you were Mrs. Audra." His deep voice muttered.


    "No, sir, I believe Mrs. Watson is at worship service this morning."


    The song inside the man''s apartment was drawing to a close. The man kept a suspicious, ring eye


    on Charles while slipping right back into his apartment from which he ominously emerged to begin with.


    Charles stood there in the middle of the lonely hallway staggered by the man''s appearance. The event


    back inside Robin''s apartment was jolting, but far from surprising. It only let him know that where he


    was living and those around him were unsafe.


    Charles began down the hallway, but not before taking another nce back at number 8, and listening


    as the same song that had been ying repeatedly for the past few days started all over again.

 Chapter 18

    Chapter 18


    For the past hour, Jeremiah had been seated inside his car, just sulking and staring ever so drowsy-


    eyed at his upper-crust apartment building from the safe confines of the parking lot. In fact, the man


    was so sleepy that his head nearly hit the steering wheel in front of him. The very instant he caught


    himself, Jeremiah quickly gazed around to see if anyone else was in the lot passing by before he


    reached into his glovepartment and pulled out a bottle of pills. The man twisted the cap open and


    dropped two pills into his left hand before downing them both without any aid of a liquid.


    From there he wiped his scruffy face with his hands while listening to a strange engine pull up beside


    his own vehicle. It was a sparkling new Delorean. Jeremiah had never noticed the car parked in the lot


    in times past, but there were always peopleing and going out of the building, so one more


    unfamiliar car wasn''t going to subtract another year from his life, he thought.


    Right before he was about to turn his vehicle over a familiar face opened the odd looking driver side


    door of the Delorean and got out. Jeremiah took one nce, and then much to his dismay took


    another.


    "Jeremiah," Paul, without his beard, and adorned in a brown, leather jacket stared strangely at


    Jeremiah''s car.


    Jeremiah could have driven away, but without notice, the will to cut on the ignition had all but vanished


    at that point. He gave up. Rolling down his window, Jeremiah smirked, "Hey, funny seeing you here."


    "Yeah, it sure is, buddy." Paul stood back and eyed the car. "I, uh...I just dropped by to see how you


    were doing."


    Chuckling, Jeremiah nced behind him in the backseat at all the books before saying, "We haven''t


    seen each other since July, and you just happened to be in the neighborhood?"


    Paul just nted his hands into his coat pockets and said, "Look, Jeri, I''ve been really concerned about


    you. I was just wondering if you and I could talk."


    "Well, as a matter of fact, I was just about to go inside and have some lunch."


    "Good, we can talk in your ce then."


    Jeremiah turned to the building before him and responded, "Come to think of it, why don''t we talk out


    here? My ce is a bit of a wreck."


    Nodding his head, Paul walked around to the other side of Jeremiah''s car and got in.


    Jeremiah sat and studied his old friend with a grinning contort. "Isn''t that funny? I''m the one that has


    the beard, and you don''t."


    Snickering, Paul replied, "Yeah, that''s a real trip."


    The two men sat and watched as two young women got out of their cars and carried on towards the


    building before Paul eventually spoke up.


    "So, how have you been?"


    "Who me," Jeremiah pointed at himself. "Oh, I''ve been better." He moaned.


    From N?velDrama.Org.


    "Yeah, I can tell."


    Jeremiah then took a gander at Paul and began grinning, "Look at you. New threads, new face, you


    even got yourself a brand new car."


    "Yeah, top of the line. Cost me a pretty penny, too."


    "I can tell." Jeremiah looked at the vehicle. "At first, when you got out of the thing I thought you were


    climbing out of a spaceship rather than a car."


    Paul just chuckled before saying, "Jeri, I didn''te all the way here to talk about my car."


    "Then what did youe all the way here for?"


    "Look, I know you think I''m still pissed about what happened back in July, but I''m here because I''m


    genuinely concerned about you."


    "Really," Jeremiah looked subtly stunned. "Were you concerned when I wasid up in that hospital for


    nearly a month?"


    Paul just turned his head in shame at that second. "Jeri, I wanted things to simmer down between us


    before I came and visited you."


    "Is that right?" Jeremiah''s tone grew. "Well, as you can very well see, I''m living and loving the single life


    here at The Hampton Arms."


    Looking back at Jeremiah, Paul said, "Yeah, I can see that. I can also see a man who has all but


    secluded himself from society. What are you doing with yourself anyways, Jeri?"


    "You wanna know what I do with myself these days? I''ll tell you. I spend the remainder of my money on


    a middle-aged hooker that I meet up with from time to time."


    "Christ, Jeri." Paul sighed.


    "Yeah, you can call on him, too." Jeremiah indignantly remarked.


    "Look, Gloria was a damn basket case. Asndview gave me bits and pieces of her. She had no


    reason being let out of that ce as soon as she was."


    Smugly turning his head to Paul, Jeremiah asked, "Do you honestly believe I''ve been grieving over her


    all this time?"


    "Well, I¡ª


    "I watched a semi-truck destroy that woman right before my very eyes. Hell, I kinda wished it had taken


    me out, too."


    "So what, you''re screwing a hooker every night and feeling sorry that you survived the beating of your


    life?"


    Jeremiah just wringed his hands as if they were stinging before he tried in earnest to getfortable in


    his seat. As he tossed and turned he caught Paul looking in the backseat; it was right then Jeremiah


    felt two sizes small beside a giant of a man. Reaching behind and taking one book, Paul flipped


    through its pages before eyeing Jeremiah ever so strangely.


    "I know that what you thought you heard in those tapes was fascinating, but you do realize that Gloria


    went through a very traumatic event, don''t you?"


    Blushing, Jeremiah said, "Yeah...yeah, I realize that."


    "Then what the hell is this all about?" Paul pointed at the book.


    Jeremiah sat and contemted inside his own head like a lost traveler in a foreignnd. "Isaac Mercer


    is still with me. Every waking day."


    "Holy shit," Paul abruptly shouted out. "Okay, look, I don''t mean to minimize Isaac''s life. He was a


    human being, too. But for God''s sake, Jeri, you''ve gone too far with this!"


    "You don''t know what I''ve been through all these months!" Jeremiah yelled back. You weren''t there in


    that field with me! I heard these things all around me! Hell, they nearly got me before I escaped!"


    "Okay, what do you think Isaac had to do with any of this?" Suddenly, Paul sat back in his seat and


    looked at Jeremiah in the most awestruck manner possible. It appeared as if everyst breath had


    been instantaneously sucked right out of him. "Hold on, you don''t think for one moment that Isaac


    Mercer was this, do you?" He pointed again at the book. "Is that what you believe, Jeremiah? Are you


    actually going to sit there and tell me that that''s what killed everyone over the summer, too? For crying


    out loud, Jeri, this is real life! We''ve got an energy crisis going on and you''re about two steps away


    from sting off into Mars!"


    Jeremiah sat in his seat with his irate lips poked outwards. At that point he couldn''t even look Paul in


    the eye.


    "That man is still alive." He uttered so softly.


    "No, he''s not." Paul bitterly remarked. "Isaac Mercer is dead. He''s been dead since February,


    Jeremiah. You''ve lost everything over this; a fucking fairy tale."


    The two men sat for a few minutes perfectly quiet before Paul took a card and ced it on the


    dashboard.


    "I really did drop by to see how you were doing." Paul mournfully uttered. "I''m sorry it took me so long


    to do so. I wish I had been there sooner. Why don''t you get out of town for a while?"


    Without even looking at him, Jeremiah asked, "No life lessons from Archie Bunker this time around?"


    Paul sat for about ten seconds before climbing out of the car. Jeremiah as well got out and made his


    way towards the building where he went inside and stood behind a wall where his view to the parking


    lot was visible.


    From where he was hiding Jeremiah could see Paul get into his vehicle and take off down the road.


    Two young men passed Jeremiah in the warm hallway right as he was about to turn towards the


    elevator.


    "You going up," one of the men asked.


    Jeremiah gazed up at the ceiling for a moment before waving his hand and saying, "No...I was just


    leaving." At that, Jeremiah went right back out the door and to his car.


    Before he did anything, Jeremiah took the card that Paul had left on the dashboard and studied its


    writing. Inscribed on the card were both Paul''s practice and his phone number. Jeremiah''s eyes at that


    instant began to squint with rage right before a tear started to flow down his left eye.


    Jeremiah simply tore the card into tiny bits and pieces and tossed them to the floor right before he


    finally cut on the ignition and roared out of the parking lot.

 Chapter 19

    Chapter 19


    "As you can see behind me, Sunday mornings are all the rage here in this lively Protestant church of


    98 men, women, boys and girls! Pastor Junto Bena, who has pastored here for exactly 22 years, is the


    backbone of not only this very church, but also of thismunity in which he and the other


    parishioners inhabit!


    Look around you; this is the joyous celebration of worship that these good people indulge in! Children


    in the choir pping and singing. Instruments being yed by even the elders of the church! Soon,


    there will be a baptism of a little girl here this morning, something that even I have yet to witness in my


    life!


    Yes, the heavens even shine down on this very church today. Look outside at the glowing sunlight


    that...that...I can''t do this anymore!" Ss gritted his teeth at Reba who was steadily holding her


    microphone up to the man''s mouth.


    "What''s the matter?" Reba said aloud amidst all the noise of the choir and instruments in the


    church.


    "I can''t even hear myself think, let alone speak!" Ss griped. "How did I let that man talk me into this?"


    Smiling, Reba patted Ss on the shoulder saying, "Don''t worry, it''ll only be two more hours!"


    Ss dropped his shoulders. "We didn''te all the way from Scond just to take part in a church


    service! I need a drink!"


    Ss and Pastor Bena for a moment connected eyes. Ss immediately waved and smiled at the man


    before turning back to Reba and Robbie.


    "Two more hours, huh," he haplessly snickered. "Can I at least have one smoke?"


    Reba just pinched Ss'' right arm before motioning to Robbie to continue filming the joyous service.


    "They''re good people," she whispered in his ear.


    "I wish they were good to me." Ss kept his ingratiating smile glued to his blushing face.


    The children''s choir on the stage was singing ''A Mighty Fortress is our God.'' They were all dressed in


    white tunics with red cors along with the pastor who was steadily leading a little girl up the steps that


    ended at a small pool. The congregation was still singing as the child shuddered while keeping her


    eyes on the three foot deep, clear water in the pool. To her, it might as well have been as bottomless as


    the sea.


    The entire church was bathed in a coating of fresh white paint from corner to corner. On the four walls


    was only a portrait of Jesus looking upwards while a medium sized cross clear on the other side of the


    room hung next to a window where the sunshine sted its way right inside. The song that the choir


    was joyfully singing was drawing to a close. The pastor, with the child standing in front of him, patiently


    waited until the very end before he began speaking. Robbie pointed his camera at the pastor while


    Reba made sure to keep her microphone positioned to where she could gather every word that was


    coming from the man''s mouth. Meanwhile, Ss managed to sneak himself to a nearby, shadowy


    corner, away from the event that took years off of his life.


    "Today, we give dis child over to de Lord, dat her life may be washed anew in de holy water of


    baptism!" Bena announced to the attentive crowd before him.


    The children in the pews beside the pool all sat and watched in bated anticipation. Some snickered and


    giggled at the girl who was about to be doused. There were adults in the audience who were sobbing,


    praying or simply watching as the pastor slowly turned the little girl around to face the still, pool water.


    The girl, who couldn''t have been no more than nine or ten years old, stood before the shimmering pool


    with jittery eyes just wondering how deep the pastor would dip her and how long he would have her


    under. As many times as she had been swimming with her family and friends at the beach, for some


    odd reason standing at the baptismal pool seemed to cause her to forget how to hold her breath


    underwater all of the sudden.


    "Good morning, dear friends!" A young looking, auburn-eyed Arthur boisterously exploded through the


    double doors of the church.


    Everyone, including Ss and his camera crew, all stopped what they were doing at that moment in


    stunned awe.


    Arthur was wearing a pristine white undershirt and matching white pants with sandals. The scraggly,


    grey haired old man that had been wandering about for the past few months had all but be a


    memory. His head waspletely bald with only a ck goatee being the only hair present. His


    muscles behind the sweaty undershirt he wore bulged making them appear as if he had just left a gym


    after two long hours.


    The man strolled down the aisle with a courteous grin stered all over his face. From pew after pew


    he studied each and every parishioner until he eventually made his way to the very front. Even the


    camera crew didn''t know exactly what to make of him. All three just stood and watched Arthur present


    himself as though he were a remarkable guest.


    "I see all are here today to praise Jesus." Arthur smiled ever so graciously. "Even de little ones are


    here." He then pointed behind him. "I too, at one time praised your God. But dat was a long time ago."


    "Sir, we are here giving a baptism." Pastor Bena came down from off the altar.


    Appearing surprised, Arthur turned to the pastor. "I am so very sorry for interrupting your ritual. I just


    came to give a testimony dis day. If you will take a moment to indulge me, den I shall be on my way."


    The pastor nced over at the camera crew who was steadily filming away before looking back at


    Arthur once again.


    ncing at the congregation, Arthur stated, "You see, someting was taken away from me some time


    ago. I was a fallen sinner in my ways. My god punished me for my sins, and I suffered greatly. But


    now...now my god has given back to me what was once mine. He has given me a new life."


    "No...no, dis man is evil!" An old woman struggled to get up from out of her seat. "I have seen him


    before!"


    The pastor motioned for someone in the congregation to quiet her down before Arthur resumed his


    speech.


    "I am far from it, my friend! In fact, I am about as far from what you tink as humanly possible. I will


    admit dat I have done wrong in my time. But den again, who hasn''t?" He shrugged as he began to stroll


    about the sanctuary.


    "I see him before!" The olddy continued to rant.


    Arthur stood and observed the woman before walking to the center of the sanctuary where the woman


    was fighting in her pew. He then scooted past one person after another on his way towards thedy.


    Once he was right next to her he pressed his right palm against her forehead and whispered into her


    face, "You shall be at peace with me, my love."


    The woman''s eyes opened as wide as they could before she slumped down into her seat and remained


    perfectly quiet in a trance-like state.


    Arthur then came from out of the pew and began back down the aisle once more. "Dere was once a


    song dat I enjoyed some time ago." ''I''m not scared of dying, and I don''t really care. If its peace you find


    in dying den let de time be near.'' "My mother, my father, my brother and sister have all been taken from


    me. But I...I shall go on and on because I believe. And when I do eventually leave dis world, may I not


    scream when I die."


    "Well...dat is a very good testimony, my son." Bena cautiously approached Arthur. "We are very d to


    Christ Jesus dat you are saved. Have you been baptized yet?"


    Arthur looked down at the small man and simply grinned before stepping past him on his way towards


    a closed door where the three person camera crew was standing in front of steadily catching the man


    on film.


    Ss stood in wonder at Arthur who was possibly the most fascinating thing he hadid eyes on ever


    since arriving on the ind.


    Arthur paused for a second and shined his teeth into the camera before opening the door, going into


    the room and shutting the door right behind him. Everyone, rather than going back to what they were


    doing before, all stood or sat in quiet astonishment at what had taken ce. Even Ss, who for once


    didn''t seem to have a word to utter, just stared oddly at his friends with his mouth hanging wide open.


    "What...what do you think thedy meant when she said that she''s seen him before?" Robbie


    whispered while putting his camera down.


    Ss just shook his head and said, "Who knows? But whoever he is, he just¡ª


    But, something began to ur. Without any sort of warning whatsoever, a groaning noise from the


    other end of the door shot out. At first it sounded as if Arthur were in pain. He could be heard pounding


    on the walls and writhing about.


    "Maybe we should see if he''s alright." Reba stuttered.


    But Ss just kept her in ce before taking her microphone and shoving it against the door in the


    hopes of getting as much sound as possible.


    "Perhaps we should call de police." One of the men in the congregation approached the pastor.


    "Yes...yes, do that." Bena''s voice faltered.


    At once, the man raced out of the church, but that was when Arthur''s groaning came to an end, and


    another sound erupted. The new sound no longer resembled that of a man in agony, but an animal


    squealing before the squeals turned into growling.


    At that very instant, Ss, with his microphone trembling in his hand, began to slowly back away from


    the door. "Tell me there was a dog already in there." His voice stammered.


    Everyone else inside the church all began to stand up. The pastor managed to corral all of the children


    off the stage before standing directly in front of them.


    "Let us leave!" Someone from within the congregation desperately shouted.


    But everyone remained and listened as something from the other end of the door began trampling


    about, sounding as if it bore the same mass as an elephant.


    The thing snarled and growled about in the room before approaching the door and sniffing. "What in the


    hell is that?" Reba breathlessly whispered. "C''mon, you two, before it gets out of there!"


    "No, no, just wait!" Ss urged.


    "Wait for what, man?" Robbie continued to scoot back. "It sounds like a nightmare!"


    "Leave now, children!" Bena implored while shoving the kids towards the front doors.


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Right then, nothing but fur exploded through the door. Ss couldn''t even move, he just stood in


    absolute fear as the beast rampaged towards him before using its powerful jaws to bite into and tear


    out his neck. Everyone else inside burst out into screams of horror as they all scattered to and fro in an


    effort to get out of the church. Reba and Robbie tried in earnest to melt in with the rest of the crowd,


    only to be trampled in the melee. The beast managed to grab a hold of Reba and toss her clear to


    the other end of the church, while Robbie was wed to bits and pieces.


    It was such a furious outburst of fear, hollering and violence that just trying to move was nearly


    impossible. The more people that were gathered at the doorway trying to escape was all the more the


    demon managed to destroy. Whether it was men, women or even children, if it was able to get a hold of


    them, the beast had its way.


    Still seated in her pew, with her eyes stuck wide open, was the old woman. She watched silently


    everything unfurl right before her eyes, and not once did she even scream or blink.

 Chapter 20

    Chapter 20


    Officer Zundi sat on therge rock that rested just ten feet away from the church''s entrance and


    watched with surly, red eyes as his subordinates carried one nketed, dead body after another out of


    the church and to a truck where they were eventually tossed in the back like sacks of potatoes. The


    thin, middle-aged Zundi sat ufortably upon the rock dressed in his blue short-sleeved shirt and


    ck shorts watching and waiting in anticipation for all of the bodies to be carted out of the church,


    while in the far off distance he could spot onlookers gawking with binocrs at the scene that he


    himself should have been involved in more personally.


    "Wait a second!" Zundi stood up and went straight for one of his men that were carrying a cadaver.


    Zundi paused for a moment before sighing and pulling back the ck nket that had Ss'' mutted


    body underneath. Just gazing down at the man''s torn neck and dazed out stare in his still opened eyes


    was enough to make Zundi hurriedly ce the nket back onto his body and turn away in repulsion.


    "Go on." He waved the officer away.


    Zundi looked on and on before he finally gathered enough courage to go back inside the church where


    he had secluded himself from just two hours earlier. The man stepped ever so lightly through the


    demolished front doors to find the sanctuary''s walls still sttered with blood from one end to the other.


    The pews were littered with blood as well, along with a few eyeballs and a couple of fingers along the


    way.


    Zundi tried in earnest to keep his eyes focused on the parts that weren''t so tortuous to view before


    seeing the old woman still seated in her pew staring far off away. Zundi spotted another one of his


    officers trying to coax the woman up.


    From N?velDrama.Org.


    Instantly, Zundi went over and asked the man, "Why are you not able to get her out of here yet, mon?"


    Appearing disgruntled and confused, the officer looked up and said, "Sir, she won''t move. Her hands


    are locked to de pew."


    Zundi viewed the old woman''s withered hands that looked as if they had made dents in the pews wood.


    Zundi then attempted to pry her left hand from off the wood only to realize that he was straining himself


    to the point of giving up.


    "Sir, de ones dat got away, some of dem are going around saying dat de devils are back again." The


    officer stammered.


    Zundi stood back up and looked at the man as though his words were ridiculous. "We need to find dem


    and figure out what did dis."


    "Sir, we know what did dis." The officer ardently beseeched.


    "No we do not!" Zundi adamantly fired back. "Get someone in here to get her out of here, now!" Zundi


    roared before turning and leaving the pew altogether.


    "But, sir," the officer zealously followed in behind Zundi, "with de rest of de church members running


    around out dere, dere bound to tell what it was!"


    At the snap of a finger, Zundi grabbed the officer and whipped him inside the room where Arthur once


    resided just to get him all alone.


    "Now, you listen to me!" Zundi snarled into his face. "Dose people dat escaped here were lucky! We do


    not need anyone running around telling ghost stories!"


    "Commander, dere not ghost stories," the officer pleaded. "We all know how dis began¡ª


    Zundi spun around and pped the officer across the face so hard that the man fell backwards onto


    the ground where Arthur''s torn clothes were still lying.


    "Listen to me, dis was an animal attack, nuting more!" Zundi threw his arms up in the air. "We need


    dese tourists, see?"


    The officer, wiping blood from off his lip, looked up at Zundi and frowned, "Tourists?"


    "Yes! My wife serves dem every day! We have seven children! We need de money!"


    The officer got back to his feet and skittishly approached hismander. "Sir, it is still out dere. If we


    do not try and stop it den we will not have any more tourists to serve."


    Zundi turned away in anguish and paced around the small room before catching a glimpse of ck fur


    lying on the floor before him. The man reached down and picked it up before sniffing at it.


    "Dose white people dat were here, dey were filmmakers." The officer exined. "Perhaps dey caught


    something on their camera equipment."


    Zundi looked back and watched as the man ventured outside the door before picking up the camera


    and recording machine from off the floor. Immediately, Zundi dropped his fur and raced out only to


    snatch the equipment from the man and m it back down onto the ground. He then took the camera


    and ripped out all of the film that was inside before taking and tearing it apart.


    "Dis is dest we see of any of dis!" Zundi held up shredded pieces of film for his officer to see. "Only


    seventeen people were killed. We are fortunate enough for dat much. All we can do now is hope and


    pray dat dis is it."


    The officer only stood by and gazed on in somber despondency. Looking like his world had shrunk


    even more by that point. Zundi remained with his hands on his hips while breathing heavy. He scanned


    the entire sanctuary where the sunlight was still creeping in and out in corners and crevices all around.


    "Give me one of your smokes and your lighter." Zundimanded the forlorn officer.


    The man reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter before handing it to Zundi.


    Zundi lit the tip of his cigarette and puffed away before heading back over to the olddy. The


    Commander sat beside the woman on the pew and stared into her nk eyes for a minute before


    taking the lighter and igniting the me in front of her face. It took at least ten seconds before her eyes


    eventually connected with the tiny fire. Once they did, she began trembling all over again.


    With his eyes peering through the me, Zundi uttered in a scratchy, ominous voice, "Go home, old


    woman."


    Gradually, the woman finally released her grip from off the pew and got up before limping her way out


    of the church. Zundi then handed the lighter back to the officer.


    "Get datst body out of here. Den, burn dis ce down." Zundi dropped his head as he walked out of


    the church and back outside to the truck where all sixteen bodies were waiting to be carried away for


    the final time.

 Chapter 21

    Chapter 21


    Before she could even open her sore eyes Lyte heard something that sounded like water very


    nearby. She attempted to open her eyes, but it seemed that with every effort her eyelids couldn''t or


    wouldn''t crack apart. The more she heard the water that was all the more Lyte wanted to see her


    surroundings. She precisely recalled what had taken ce in her life minutes, hours or even days ago.


    Thest thing she remembered was feeling tiny fish float all around her face right before she cked


    out.


    Lyte once more tried in vain to open her eyes. But before she could even tear them open, a


    sudden burst of light caused her to shut them all over again. She gulped and opened them once more


    to see the sunshine all around her. To her left was the sand, and to her right was the crystal blue sea.


    In front of her, however, was something that caused her to believe that she was still in a state of


    delusion, or at the very least dead. For in front of her, kneeling and grinning, was none other than


    Arthur Bushard.


    Lyte opened her eyes all the way. The zing sunlight was far from a detriment at that point. She


    tried to move but realized that something was holding her in ce. Lyte looked up to discover both


    of her hands tied upwards to a palm tree.


    "Hello, mama," Arthur grinned so wickedly.


    His facial features were swollen, along with the rest of his body which was covered only by a pair of


    torn, brown shorts. In her eyes, he looked as though he had been stung by a horde of bees.


    "You are a tenacious one, I must say." He caressed her face.


    Lyte kicked and spat at the man until her arms began to wretch in pain. "Please, God!" She began


    to sob.


    "No, no, no." Arthur waved his hands. "Dis has nuting to do wit him. How you know I still alive, mama?"


    "Please...just kill me and get it over with!"


    Arthur smiled and said, "When I was told dat you were here in my homnd I was quite surprised. I


    never imagined dat you would have such bravery. Do you know dat I was dere dat very night Isaac ate


    you out? I saw de whole ting."


    Lyte dropped her head in misery before looking back up and staring at the man with such contempt


    that it caused her to salivate.


    "I fished you out of de water to show you someting, mama." Arthur stated. "You have never known a


    person like me, have you? I am a god; my master willed it."


    "You''re not a god." Lyte sniveled.


    Arthur just studied the youngdy before asking, "Do you know why I killed my sister? Do not get me


    wrong, I loved my sister very, very much. But when one is...taken over, it''s like being inside a racing


    car, and you cannot control it. All of dat blood dat was covering her; I couldn''t help but to devour her.


    She tasted so good inside my stomach."


    Lyte squirmed and turned her head away from the man''s ghastly face that wouldn''t cease staring


    at her like she were next on the lunch menu.


    "Look around you, mama." He turned his head. "Dis, and everyting in it, is all mine. My family is all but


    gone; all dat remains is me. Just de way it should be." Arthur then directed his attention back to


    Lyte. "I want you to know exactly how dis feels." He grunted while forcefully grabbing her by the


    cheeks. "I took you out of dat water for one reason and one reason only." With his sharp right index


    finger Arthur made a tiny slit in Lyte''s throat until a sliver of blood began to trickle. "I will kill you,


    mama, but not yet. I want you to taste dis to its fullest extent. You will know a hunger de likes you have


    never experienced. Isaac felt it, too. It consumed him so much dat he killed four little girls, and nearly


    you and your bastard child."


    Out of desperation, Lyte turned her head from left to right in the hopes of evading the man''s face.


    "Den...when de hunger haspletely consumed you, you shall beg me to kill you. I shall return, and


    when I get through with you, not even your Christ himself will recognize you."


    Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    Lyte, gasping for air, looked up as Arthur stood to his feet and ced his hands on his hips. All she


    could see was the sun gleaming down upon his body; his entire face had all but been shaded out.


    "And when I am through wit you, I shall dine on your child''s bones. You should have never made it dis


    far." He reached down and pped her across the face before turning and walking away. "I make you


    wish Isaac had killed you dat night!"


    Something immediately took control of Lyte. Her conscious mind stopped functioning at that


    moment. The final words that Arthur spoke right before leaving had all but vacated her thoughts. A


    sudden burst of intense energy struck her body like a bolt of lightning, so much so that it enraged her.


    She kicked, screamed and spat at the sand right before ripping her bound hands away from the tree.


    Lyte got to her feet as her vision began to blur. Instead of seeing a bright and luminous beach


    landscape her eyes gathered only darkness; it was like someone had ced a ck film over her eyes.


    With an insufferable hunger inside her stomach Lyte stalked the beach like a rampaging animal,


    frothing at the mouth. Her neck was bleeding but not to the point where she was gasping for oxygen. In


    the distance her ears could pick up the sounds of a barking dog. At the snap of a finger her attention


    was seized at red alert. Lyte took off down the beach like a roadrunner after the dog. She couldn''t


    tell what exactly she was chasing, all she could register was sound, a sound that was getting closer


    and closer to her the faster she ran.


    Soon, she spotted a lone pit-bull frolicking against the waves. Lyte''s stomach went into overdrive at


    that instant, causing her to feel as if she hadn''t eaten in months. Like a furious wind she bolted after the


    unsuspecting dog and tackled it to the sand before sinking her teeth into its neck. The dog wrestled and


    brawled before finallying to a rest in the woman''s arms. She then tore into its stomach and


    proceeded to consume its innards.


    Lyte could have cared less about how the animal felt, she was still hungry.


    ***


    The seething hunger inside Lyte caused her to lurch across the beach like a crazed nomad. Her


    entire face was drenched in the blood of the dog she had consumed; and even though she had eaten


    nearly fifty percent of the animal, her stomach still couldn''t help but to drag onward towards even more


    replenishment wherever she could find it.


    The more she wandered on the more people came into sight. There were a couple of old men on the


    beach ying bongos and singing Reggae songs while some tourists stood around them and listened.


    There were children ying and swimming in the water while others just walked up and down the


    beach. In Lyte''s eyes they were all ripe with warm, smelly flesh and red flowing blood. She


    apparently didn''t care that she herself was a mess of wet clothes and blood, all that mattered to her


    was the next meal, whether it was walking, swimming or flying above her with wings. Some people, as


    they strolled by her, managed to either gawk at her or keep their distance altogether.


    Lyte was groaning and growling like a raving lunatic fresh from a medieval asylum. She had no


    comprehension whatsoever of time, the past or even where she was. The further Lyte lurked the


    more a familiar whiff seemed to seize her nose. Past one gawker after another she carried on until the


    smell of meat cooking filled her every sense to where her slow marching turned into rampant running.


    She raced down the beach, bumping into various people until she came face to face with The Kabal.


    Without any self-awareness at all, the woman barged her way inside through the front door and


    immediately went for the kitchen, making sure to knock a few tables over and disrupt the lunchtime


    rush.


    She crashed into the kitchen to see and smell all kinds of meat simmering and frying on the stove.


    Within the small expanse of four seconds her stomach went from enraged to downright explosive as


    she tore into the searing hot meat in one of the pans and engulfed the still cooking beef.


    "Say dere, Lynn," one of the cooks jumped back amazed. "Whatha doin'', girl?"


    But Lyte couldn''t hear him; all she wanted was to rip into the burning meat with every tooth in her


    mouth until it all went down her gullet.


    "Lynn, where ya been, girl?" Clea appeared from out of nowhere.


    Once Lynn was done eating the meat she spun around and around until she spotted the refrigerator.


    Instantly, she ran over, flung open the door and began tossing out food that went spilling all onto the


    floor. The three people that were inside the kitchen all tried to stop her, but Lynn proved to be too


    strong as she muscled her way out of their grip on her way back out into the dining area.


    "What''s gwan on in here?" The owner of the restaurant came out ranting.


    From one table to another Lyte charged, grabbing anything that appeared appetizing and stuffing it


    into her mouth. Every patron inside all stood up from their tables in shock and watched the youngdy


    demolish the establishment with such reckless abandon that one would have believed she was in the


    thralls of a drug induced rage, or, if one subscribed to such a notion, a possession of sorts.


    When Lyte wasn''t able to spot anymore food in sight she stood back with wild eyes and viewed


    each and every person before her. All of the sweaty flesh, whether it was ck or white, took on such a


    pungent aroma; it was hard for her to focus on just one individual. She heaved in and out like a raging


    bull before finding and focusing on a specific man and woman couple to her immediate right. The man


    picked up a chair in a defensive position while standing in front of his woman. Lyte slowly prowled


    towards them both with her blood-stained teeth ring at them.


    "Lynn, what is de matter wit you?" Clea came running out of the kitchen screaming.


    But Lyte couldn''t even hear her, she just continued on before gathering a load of energy in her hind


    legs, rearing back and proceeding to pounce on the frightened couple only to be approached by arge


    female from behind and struck across the back of the neck, sending her not only to the floor, but also


    into yet another bout of lifelessness.

 Chapter 22

    Chapter 22


    "Here, girl, take some more!" Arge ck man handed Leo''s naked and inebriated mother more rum


    for her to drink.


    Leo, from the thin sliver in the door, watched with doleful eyes as his pitiful mother drank and slobbered


    the alcohol before fallingpletely off of the bed in a heap andughing about it. It was at that stage


    that Leo pulled himself away from the door and staggered into the tiny kitchen to sit at the table. From


    where he was he could hear both his mother and her friendugh and carry on while the stench of


    marijuana left the room making it look as though it were on fire. The young boy pressed his hands


    against his ears as tight as he could while weeping ever so quietly. There was always his outside


    refuge, but he was so sick and tired of retreating that listening to his mother night in and night out only


    seemed therapeutic at that point. And the nights always seemed to drag on endlessly.


    "Hey, boy," his mother''s friend came into the kitchen with only a pair of boxers on his body. "Why ya in


    here" he stumbled. "Why ya not outside where ya belong?"


    The man reeked of rum from head to toe. It was so strong on him that it made him smell as if he had


    been soaking in the liquid for hours.


    Getting up from the table, Leo meekly remarked with his head down, "I was going outside."


    The man halted Leo''s progression out the doorway. He stood there with his bottle of rum while looking


    lazily down at the frightened child.


    "Ya never tell me your mama was such a greaty! I''d be over here sooner!" Heughed.


    Leo never looked up at the man. He blushed before attempting to bypass him only to be caught by the


    man and lifted up by his shirt cor to eye level.


    "I be speakin'' to ya, boy!" The man breathed into Leo''s face.Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    Leo''s tears only grewrger the longer his little body remained in the air. Soon, the man dropped him to


    the floor before dragging his drunken body back to the room where Leo''s mother was still giggling like a


    fool.


    Without hesitation Leo got up and ran outside onto the steps where he sat and cried without restraint.


    The longer he sobbed the angrier he seemed to be, albeit, the anger was always there, just


    tempered by his love for his mother. The more he heard the man inside the shackugh and toss


    bottles around, that was all the more Leo wanted to get up and run off. He sat on the steps and looked


    out at the dark, far distance where the mountains rested. Although he couldn''t see any of them in the


    night Leo was always well aware that they were far from home, and that alone made him feel lighter


    than a feather.


    After so much crying, Leo eventually wiped his eyes as he stared down at the still busy street and


    various people buzzing about before reaching up under one of the steps and pulling out a shoebox. He


    removed the lid from off the box and took out a revolver. The boy opened the chamber and examined


    all the bullets inside before taking a nce back at his shack''s front door with a bitter re on his wet


    face. He then turned back around and looked even harder at the gun, which was a size too big for his


    hand, before getting up and heading back for the door.


    But just then, a presence halted his every motion. There was something creeping up the metal steps,


    and that same something sounded heavy and brooding, like it were stalking after someone. Leo stood


    in ce at that instant, not exactly from fear but from sheer curiosity. The more he heard his mother


    and her friendugh and carouse inside, the more desperate he was to exact some sort of action.


    Leo resumed his angered march towards the door only to be stopped by the sound of something


    snarling nearby him. The boy looked down the stairs and into the busy street but couldn''t seem to spot


    anything that would resemble such a noise. He then went over to the other side of the stairs and


    peered down only to hear the snarling racket grew even more intense. Leo jumped back, dropping his


    gun to the ground in the process. The heavy plodding made the already fragile steps sound as if they


    were about to copse under the weight of whatever was creeping upon them. Out of fear, Leo knelt


    down and wedged his little body underneath one of the steps with only a few inches separating both


    him and the thing that was prowling about.


    Leo waited with paused breath until the sight of fur could be seen. The fur seemed to linger on forever


    before two shining beams appeared from out of nowhere. The snarling noise came face to face with


    Leo who was by then shivering underneath the stairs. The two beams blinked off and on at him before


    a set of slobbering, white fangs appeared right before his very eyes. The boy could smell the mustiness


    of the animal''s thick fur. Leo grunted while losing his breath. He knew that the animal had heard him,


    and yet, just belting out a simple squeak for help was nearly impossible.


    All of the sudden, Leo''s mother and her friend shrieked out inughter so loud that it must have startled


    the beast. The thing spun around with the quickness of a cat and rampaged through the flimsy door.


    Leo gritted his teeth and listened as the animal roared so loud before causing both his mother and her


    friend to holler out in absolute terror. Leo slid out from underneath the steps and stood and watched as


    the glow of themplight that was inside his home was flung to one corner to the other. All he could


    hear was his mother and her friend being ripped apart by whatever had invaded his tenement.


    "What''s gwan on up here, boy?" An older man ran up behind Leo.


    But Leo had no words for the old man. All he could do was stand in awe and listen as bodies were


    being tossed about.


    "What is dat up in dere?" The man screamed at Leo.


    Right then, the boyfriend came limping out the door a bloody mess before being dragged right back


    inside yelling and fighting for onest grasp of life. The old man immediately grabbed Leo and took him


    back down the steps where others were standing and wondering just what on earth was taking ce.


    "What''s happening?" A woman shouted from her dwelling.


    "Dere''s someting up dere!" The old man breathlessly cried out as he kept on running down the stairs.


    Soon, the beast tore out of Leo''s home and began ripping through one shelter after another. Either


    people came running and screaming for their lives or were swallowed up in the demonic whirlwind; no


    matter the case, the shanty was under a full blown assault.


    The very moment Leo and the old man made it downstairs to the sidewalk a burst of fire exploded from


    within one of the tenements. People came racing and falling down the stairs in reckless abandon with


    their children and other important items.


    "I hear it before!" An olderdy came down screaming her head off. "It''s happening all over again!"


    The beast roared so loud that even a few cars and mopeds on the street came to screeching halts. The


    top of the shanty waspletely engulfed in mes, and the fire was descending and spreading


    rapidly.


    "I saw something up dere!" A young, naked man came tripping down the stairs. "It''s big and it has


    teeth!"


    All young Leo could do was stand in the middle of the street along with some of the other residents and


    helplessly watch as their homes caught on fire, all the while listening as the creature crashed and


    roared through like a wrecking machine. By then, it was safe to assume that whoever was not gathered


    along with everyone on the street was either eaten or burned alive.


    "Dear God, it''s happening all over again!" The olddy wailed as some of the others tried to console


    her. "Don''t let dis happen again, God! Not again!"


    People ran away as a couple of the dwellings came crashing down to the street. A fire truck could be


    heard ring in the near distance behind everyone, but that sound was eclipsed by the shrill howling of


    a brute that seemed to overwhelm the warm nighttime air


    And then...the rain began.

 Chapter 23

    Chapter 23


    "Now, say de alphabet backwards dis time." The medium sized, young Mrs. Fortunamanded her


    second grade ss as she methodically strolled past all twenty-seven desks on her way back to her


    own desk in front of the small ssroom.


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    With some rolled eyes and some lethargic moans, the children, in unison, all began reciting the


    alphabet in reverse while the rain outside that following morning pounded against the four brick walls of


    the tiny schoolhouse. It was quite apparent that each student would have loved to have been anywhere


    else in the world other than their own school. It wasn''t that they couldn''t say the alphabet backwards, it


    was just the simple fact that performing such a task was just that, a task. Meanwhile, Mrs. Fortuna, with


    her tightly wrapped braided hair, leaned against the edge of her desk with her arms folded and listened


    to not only herckluster students drone on and on, but also the rain that sounded as if it were


    increasing in its fervor. Yes, the walls of the schoolhouse were made of stone, but the roof was metal,


    rusted metal to be exact. Mrs. Fortuna always made sure in cases of torrential rainfalls to not only keep


    a steel bucket in the left corner of the room, but also keep a vignt eye on the roof to make sure no


    dents would appear.


    "Very good," Mrs. Fortuna said out loud. "Now dat you have dat mastered, den perhaps each of you


    can recite de books of de bible, too."


    "I can!" A little girl smack dab in the middle of the ss excitedly raised her hand.


    "No, no, Liliana, dis is for everyone." Mrs. Fortuna spread her arms wide open.


    At once, each student, minus Liliana, either sat back in their seats or slumped down. Some actually


    turned to the lone window in the schoolhouse and stared outside at the rain like they were wishing it


    woulde and carry them far away.


    "Turn around, Gaston and Joonbo!" Mrs. Fortuna admonished two boys.


    At once, both little boys reluctantly turned about face before joining the rest of the ss in naming off


    each book of the bible, jumping in at the book of Numbers.


    Once again, Mrs. Fortuna began a tour of her ss up and down each row, making sure every student


    was speaking the words that she wanted to hear. The instant she reached the back of the room, her


    eyes couldn''t help but to be mesmerized by the same rainstorm that the boys found so alluring. The


    rain was so overbearing that all she could possibly see was a solid, blinding sheet. As soon as the


    students got to the book of Zachariah Mrs. Fortuna lost interest in the rain and began back to the front


    of the ss, but not before her ears caught the sound of something very foreign and unusual.


    The woman hadn''t even made it to the middle of the row. She turned around and looked outside once


    more. The sound she was hearing was the rain, along with something else, something that resembled


    a pack of wild animals chasing one another. Mrs. Fortuna figured it for a truck rolling by before she


    squared her eyes even more out the thin window to see a figure moving about in the rain. It was a dark


    thing that seemed to be galloping. Tourists would often ride horses up and down along the beach on


    any given day, but it was pouring and they were nowhere to be seen.


    The woman then made her way back to the window to see the figure drawing closer and closer while


    hearing it make such a terrifying grunt amidst all the rain.


    "First and Second Peter," the ss all continued on.


    But Mrs. Fortuna hadpletely lost track of them way back at Matthew. She stood directly in front of


    the window and watched as the galloping thing emerged from out of the rain before its pair of shiny


    eyes appeared at the front walkway.


    The woman''s body at that very moment began to shake so violently that she nearly vomited. "Everyone


    get up and run to de backdoor!" She hollered with all her might before racing to her desk.


    Without a hint of hesitancy each child got up from out of their seats and mored for the backdoor. All


    27 bodies huddled together in the corner while Mrs. Fortuna reached underneath her desk and pulled


    out a shotgun.


    "Everyone stand right dere and don''t move!" She screamed before running back to the window and


    looking out to see where the beast was.


    They all could hear it growl and roar as it repeatedly ran around the schoolhouse. The children all


    yelled and cried, but Mrs. Fortuna made sure to keep pace with its rampant prowling.


    From one corner of the school to the other she raced until she found herself at the backdoor along with


    the children. Sweating, huffing and puffing, Mrs. Fortuna held guard against the door as the beast


    stalked back and forth. She pointed her weapon at the door with the children all behind her. The


    hideous growls the animal was making sounded ever so angry and hateful.


    Mrs. Fortuna cocked her shotgun before looking back and breathlessly saying to her students, "You all


    must be very, very quiet! It can hear us in here!"


    Mrs. Fortuna then turned her attention back to the door which all of the sudden grew amazingly quiet.


    The woman carefully made her way to the door and pressed her ear against the wood.


    "Is it still dere?" One little girl stuttered.


    Mrs. Fortuna never answered. She just stood back away from the door before sailing past the rows of


    desks just to make it back to the front window. She looked outside but could hear or see no sign of the


    thing.


    "I don''t see it anywhere." Mrs. Fortuna strongly whispered.


    The children all seemed to begin to settle down right before arge w ripped through the door and


    into the school. Instantly, the children all screamed bloody murder as Mrs. Fortuna ran back to the door,


    pointed her gun and fired.


    "Go out de front door!" She yelled at her students.


    At once, all 27 children took off towards and out the front door. Mrs. Fortuna continued to fire at the


    backdoor, but the more she fired that seemed to be all the more space the beast needed to storm its


    wet and bloody body right on inside and pounce on the woman, tearing her throat and face apart with


    its ever so sharp and voracious fangs and ws.


    Mrs. Fortuna had only one slug remaining in her shotgun. The vering beast just would not relent, no


    matter how full its belly was.

 Chapter 24

    Chapter 24


    This Old Man


    "Gather ''round me." The downcast, grey-haired, boney old manmanded his family around a fire


    that was burning inside the small stone hut that was hidden deep within a forest.


    Collected amongst him were a younger man and woman, along with eight small boys and girls. Each


    and every member of the family all sat Indian-style on the floor before the old man.


    "We must find food before the day is through, great-grandfather." The younger man said.


    Staring directly at the man, the old man replied, "Your food is not important. But I tell each and every


    one of you dis, I shall not eat until de dawnes back."


    All ten seated before him listened intently. The rain came thrashing down upon the hut with the full


    force of a hurricane in the making. They were all ustomed to it, but on that particr evening, the


    sound of rain never felt so nerve-wracking.


    "I am an old man." His scratchy voice spoke softly. "I have seen a century''s turn, and a storm''sings


    and goings. I have seen men of great stature speak great tings, and other men of great stature devour


    de living. But in all my time, I never see such a grave dilemma as de one dat has befallen us. Dere


    have been a many a ting in my life dat I wish I no see. Many people who say dey be de devil; but I tink


    not.


    I am but an old man. I have no sense. Dese people, deye, and dey go. Dey speak, and before you


    know, dey speak no more. Dis old man, he see many suns, and many moons. I see de sun cross in


    between de moon two times. But I see someting else, too. I know it be de devil, ''cause it always look


    you in de eye. It alwayse in de day, and in de night. It take your life and my life. I see ite and


    look like you and me, before it runs like a dog.


    Do you see de devil? No, only it see you. It no care if you scream and yell. It no care if you boy, girl,


    woman or man. It no care if even it kill its own.


    Yes, in my life I see many a ting. Many people covered in blood for many years. De blood is all we have


    left.


    Have you ever seen fresh blood? It is thick, and it bubbles, but it always flows like de rain dat punishes


    dis great earth of ours. De blood is what de devil has been cravin'' for years. It craves for it now as I sit


    here and speak. And you...you speak of food?


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    It is much better for you and I to not fill our bellies. Too much fat and de devil smell you better. De devil


    hear a grumbling stomach. It sound like an elephant in its ears.


    No, our food can wait, but de devil needs to eat more. It shed blood more and more as de days carry


    on, until...dere is no until.


    Dis never, ever ends. Dat is why dere be no God. No Jesus. No God let such a ting rule. No God sit


    back and watch as de bubbly blood flows like a river at our doorstep.


    No, I believe in no God, but I do believe in de devil. I see him many times before, as he see me. I am


    an old man, and my time to meet de devil draws nearer each day. I will see his eyes stare into mine,


    but by den, it be toote. God gone, only de devil take me home.


    Now, kill de fire...and make not one sound for deing days.


    For if we die, we die wit empty bellies."

 Chapter 25

    Chapter 25


    The police cruiser slowly wheeled up to and eventually parked right in front of 909 West 7th. Both the


    young officer who was operating the vehicle and Mike O''Dea sat inside the car and red on and on at


    the bleak, broken down old house with simr looks of dismay written on their faces.


    Mike, who by then had grown a full, greying beard that would have suggested that he hadn''t shaved in


    quite a while, rubbed his hard hands together as though he were anxious over something.


    In his brown leather long coat, matching brown polyester pants and a tweed fedora, Mike took a


    strained gander at the rest of the drab neighborhood on that slowly approaching evening. On the other


    side of the sidewalk were two ck men wearing ck leather jackets and just standing in front of a


    parked car smoking and talking to each other. Mike just cut his eyes from the men as to say they


    weren''t worth his time.


    "Well, Mr. O''Dea, here it is." The young officer switched off the car''s ignition and sighed.


    Mike nced back over at the house and heaved, "Yeah, a real piece of shit, huh?"


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    "If you ask me, they should''ve torn this ce down a long time ago."


    "Hell, they should destroy this entire neighborhood, for the love of God." O''Dea snickered while


    unbuckling his seatbelt and preparing to climb out of the car.


    "You know, when I was herest, this house looked terrible. But now...it actually looks worse." Officer


    Sullivan mentioned with a sudden pale face.


    O''Dea just smirked at the young man as to imply that hisment was humorous. "Hang in there, kid.


    Believe me when I say, you''ll encounter a helluva lot worse by the time you''re done in the force."


    "That makes me feel secure." Sullivan sarcastically remarked.


    "Look, you''re a good Irish kid." O''Dea said. "We need more good cops like you out here." O''Dea then


    pointed out at the two men across the street. "Look at ''em, the dregs of society." He sneered. "They,


    and any other that suck on society''s tit. I hated it when they took me off the beat. I got a chance to be


    out here with my nose to street. What you saw the other day inside that house was just a glimpse of


    real life. Your father knew that, too. He was a good cop, and he expects his son to follow in suit."


    Swallowing, Sullivan remarked, "Yeah, but I bet he never saw anything like what happened the other


    day."


    Shrugging his shoulders, Mike callously replied, "Perhaps not, but then again, the little bastards had no


    business being in there to begin with. You jump into Jaws'' mouth, don''t be surprised when you''re


    eaten." O''Dea then reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a fifty dor bill which he promptly


    handed to the young man. "C''mon, let''s go."


    Both O''Dea and Sullivan got out of the cruiser and proceeded to march towards the house. With his


    hands inside his coat pockets, O''Dea''s stride was zealous while Sullivan''s was cautious if not sluggish.


    O''Dea paused for a moment to stare up at the radiant autumn sky and back again at the men who by


    then were giggling in their direction. O''Dea just snubbed his nose at the men before stepping up the


    stairs of the porch.


    "You should''ve seen this porch." Sullivan said. "I think Officer Wayne said he found one of the boys''


    heart''s outside here. He said that it was still beating."


    O''Dea scanned the grimy porch where several of the wooden boards wereing loose before he


    stood in front of the front door. Sullivan pushed against the door''s handle and stepped aside to let


    O''Dea in first.


    Closing the door behind him, Sullivan''s tongue fumbled, "I sure hope the Captain doesn''t find out about


    this."


    "Don''t worry about Brickman; he already owes me a few favors. Besides, you''re beingpensated for


    this. You''ve got nothing to be concerned about."


    The floor boards creaked and cracked with every movement the men made as they walked across


    causing an echo effect to rattle the silence within. There was still enough sunlight for them both to see


    where they were stepping. O''Dea took a minute to scan the reddish walls and floor. The smell within


    the house was stiff and putrid, like being inside a cold butcher shop.


    "The guys did their best to clean the walls, but there was so much blood that they eventually just gave


    up."


    O''Dea took a Proid camera from out of his coat and snapped a couple of shots. He shook the prints


    and waited for the film to develop before studying both pictures carefully and stuffing them into his


    pockets.


    "Tell me again why you think this is so important?"


    O''Dea took a picture of the floor before saying, "My boy, they say truth is stranger than fiction. This


    entire case has baffled everyone since it first began back in February. No leads, no clues, just


    spection and people still turning up dead."


    "So do you believe that these animals are still on the loose?" Sullivan stood nervously behind O''Dea.


    Scanning the entire living room from side to side, O''Dea answered, "It''s hard to say. If it is an animal,


    it''s an animal that no one can seem to spot. These murders have been far too gruesome for a human


    to havemitted. No, no, I happen to believe that something a lot deeper is going on here."


    "Well, if it''s not an animal, or a person, then who or what?"


    Right then, Sullivan''s radio crackled to life. "I gotta take this." Sullivan hurried to say as he whipped out


    his radio from his holster and took off out the front door.


    O''Dea went and shut the door behind the young man before turning back around and taking out a mini


    tape recorder from within his coat. From there he began a methodical march around the living room


    that would end up leading down the hallway.


    Speaking into the recorder''s voice receiver, O''Dea stated, "I''m currently inside the Glover residence.


    With the exception of the living room, the hallway appears to be untouched."


    O''Dea opened the one bedroom door and poked his head inside. He then walked over to the closet to


    find nothing but an empty space within.


    "I attempted to contact Lyte Glover, but came up with no results. I''m considering paying a visit to


    her parents'' home where I am told she resides." He spoke as he headed back out to the hallway and


    down towards the bathroom.


    With extreme carefulness, he opened the door and used what little light was still shining from the


    hallway to see what he was able to.


    Kneeling, the man said, "The floor still has remnants of bloodcerated all over. Nothing too deep, but


    one can surmise that due to theck of proper upkeep this house is not too far from demolition. Sullivan


    was right; it does need to be destroyed."


    O''Dea kept on and on gawking about until he spotted something hiding behind the toilet. The man


    reached over and picked it up.


    "I''m currently inside the bathroom where Isaac Mercer was shot dead by Detective Bruin. I''m holding in


    my hand right now what appears to be a piece of...fur." O''Dea studied the fment from side to side


    before taking out his eyesses and inspecting closer.


    "Brice may be a nut, but he''s still holding tight to his animal theory. And to be perfectly honest, I can''t


    really me him. The neighbors all said that Glover did not own a pet, and yet, they also said that they


    heard an animal inside this house that night. And that same animal was tearing the joint apart like a


    bulldozer. There was an animal inside this fucking house that night." He spoke more sternly as he


    stuffed the fur inside his coat pocket.


    "I don''t care what anyone says; Linus shot and killed both Mercer and something else. And I happen to


    believe that was what eventually drove him to take his own life."


    O''Dea then stood back up. "They were harboring an animal inside this house that night. Possibly the


    same animal that tore those Jamaicans apartst November. That''s exactly what Linus killed. Isaac


    Mercer was involved with the Jamaicans prior to his death and he brought it over here, possibly to fend


    off Linus. But Linus shot both Mercer and the beast, and the beast got away to the Hollis Towers." He


    anxiously exined to his recorder.


    "I''ll be dammed, it''s been right in front of everyone''s eyes this entire time." O''Dea then began to


    gradually turn around and around inside the bathroom. "That''s why that ck bitch Glover is nowhere


    to be found. She''s probably running some kind of underground voodoo cult in town." Mike then stopped


    twirling and gripped his recorder even tighter inside his sweating right hand.


    "This is exactly what could get me back on the force. Now, from what another informant told me,


    Charles Mercer was just released from the hospital not too long ago. That means I need to catch up


    with him and¡ª


    Just then, O''Dea''s keen ramblings were interrupted by a racket from another part of the house. The


    man nearly dropped his recorder to the floor before he stuffed the thing back inside his coat and


    reached into another pocket to take out a revolver.


    "Who''s in here?" He called out. "Sullivan?"


    But instead of an answer all that he could still hear was the thumping of something stalking about like it


    owned the ce.


    With his gun pointed straight ahead of him O''Dea boldly struck out of the bathroom, down the hallway


    and into the living room. He stood in the middle of the floor and gazed all over before catching a


    darkened figure seated Indian-style on the kitchen floor.


    "Hold it right there!" He pointed his revolver at the person.


    The individual''s face was hidden by the shadows within the increasingly dimming kitchen which only


    frustrated O''Dea even further as he cautiously approached the person.


    "Slowly get to your feet with your hands up!" O''Dea said aloud.


    Gradually, the person lifted their head. The sun was going down for the evening, so seeing the person


    clearly was near impossible. O''Dea could tell just by the bulky build that it was a man; a man with


    dreadlocks. Ever so carefully he raised his hands in the air.


    "Stop right there!" O''Dea snapped. "Okay, who are you, and why are you here?"


    The man dropped his hands back down to the floor before ncing to his left and to his right. Still,


    O''Dea could barely see the man''s face. He could tell that he wasn''t wearing a shirt of any kind, and that


    whatever sort of pants he was wearing looked to be shredded to pieces.


    "Where dey at, mon?" The man spoke in a hoarse Jamaican ent.


    Turning up his face, O''Dea asked, "Come again?"


    "Me sister, and me brotha," the man continued on, soundingpletely confused.


    "Okay, pal, I don''t know why you''re here, but you need to get¡ª


    Just then, O''Dea ceased his speech to take a moment to reflect. Immediately he thought of Lyte


    and Isaac and began backing away.


    "Alright, pal, just hold it right there. I got back up outside. Make one move and I''ll blow you away."


    "Dey not here, mon." The man woefully groaned.


    "Who''s not here?"


    "Dey gone," he continued on.


    "Who, Mercer, Glover," O''Dea zealously questioned. "Do you know where Lyte Glover is?"


    Soon, the man in the kitchen began an ominous chuckle thatsted nearly an entire minute before he


    settled back down.


    "No, no, mon, we here for de girl."


    "Who''s we? What girl?"


    "Little Lyte, no Isaac."


    "I fucking knew it." O''Dea gritted his teeth in a whisper. "Okay, juste out of there and we can go


    down to the police station and try and figure out together where Ms. Glover is."


    But just then, the man inside the kitchen sat absolutely still, so still in fact that it appeared to O''Dea that


    he was lifeless.


    "Wee here to dis country for de girl. I try to get her, but she get away from me."


    O''Dea could hardly even understand the man''s dialect let alone what he was trying to get at. And the


    more the man remained in the shadows the more anxious O''Dea seemed to be.


    "What...what the hell are you talking about? Are you talking about Lyte? Do you know anything


    about the animal attacks this past summer?" O''Dea kept panting. "Listen...juste forward real slowly


    and¡ª


    "I still smell tha fire, mon."


    "What fire are you talking about?"


    "I feel it all over me. I tried to kill ''er, but she get away."


    "Who did you try to kill, for Christ''s sake?"


    "De girl...Lyte," the man''s voice began to deepen. "But me brotha have no mercy upon me."


    By then, O''Dea''s knees were beginning to wobble beneath him. The situation was bing more and


    more agonizing by the second, and the seconds were dragging by like hours in his mind.


    "So let me get this straight, you tried to kill Lyte Glover, and you say that your brother tried to kill


    you?"


    "Me brotha is a very powerful mon."


    "What''s his name? Where is he? Come down to the station with me and we can work this out."


    All of the sudden, O''Dea''s nose began to catch the aroma of something burning. The man kept his gun


    trained on the shadowy man inside the kitchen while trying to figure out where the smell wasing


    from.


    "Sullivan!" O''Dea hollered out. "Sullivan, get in here, I got a suspect!"


    "Your mon note here. No one save ya now, Yankee boy."


    At that instant, the man on the floor jumped right to his feet. O''Dea tightened his slippery finger around


    his gun''s trigger.


    "Stop right there, dammit!" He nervously yelled.


    The man in the kitchen stood perfectly immobile before his two eyes began to shine right through the


    kitchen''s shadows.


    "What in God''s name?" O''Dea began to shiver.


    "When ya get to hell, tell my brotha dat I cannot wait to see him."


    "Don''t you make one more move!" O''Dea himself started to back away.


    Drawing further and further out of the shadows, the man''s harsh voice uttered, "I be there real soon,


    mon. I be there real soon."


    Without notice the man in the kitchen lunged out at O''Dea. O''Dea, out of sheer fright, fired his gun four


    times at the man before falling backwards onto the floor. Disoriented, O''Dea writhed about on the floor


    before finding himself covered in a pair of torn pants and what appeared to be pieces of burned flesh


    which the man quickly wiped off his self.


    O''Dea promptly got to his feet breathing in and out as though he had been running for miles. He looked


    down at the floor where the pants and charred skin was lying. With shaking hands he meticulously


    picked and prodded at the mess on the floor.


    He could still smell the scorched remains as if it were fresh. Words were beyond him at that point. All


    O''Dea seemed to be able to do was just stand and stare down at the floor before he turned to the


    kitchen to find itpletely empty. It was as though someone or something had sucked the very life out


    of him at that moment in time.


    "What the hell is going on in here?" Sullivan breathlessly crept up behind O''Dea.


    Still caught up in the thralls of terror, without thinking, O''Dea wildly spun around and began firing his


    revolver straight at Sullivan''s neck, which ended up sending the man crashing down onto the floor.


    O''Dea himself stumbled backwards,nding squarely back on his rear. The moment O''Dea atst


    came to his senses he saw a bloody Billy Sullivan lying on the floor holding his bleeding neck while


    writhing about in agony. Sweating and out of breath O''Dea sat absolutely still and watched in paralyzed


    shock as the young man fought for everyst breath be sumbing to the grip of death. His body


    jerked for at least ten or eleven seconds until atst it wentpletely still.


    O''Dea remained on the floor for the longest time before finally gathering the energy to get up and circle


    the dead man''s body while still holding onto his gun. He turned his head around to look back at the


    empty kitchen once more. He then looked back down at Sullivan whose eyes were wide open in a dull


    gaze. O''Dea didn''t even pull out a simple gasp let alone a word; he only stood in the middle of the floor


    and shook incessantly. Soon enough, however, a chorus of whispers began to arise within the small


    house. O''Dea spun around and around like a dog chasing after its own tail in search of where the


    uproar wasing from.


    "Who...who''s in here," he tried to catch his breath.


    But the whispers only grew louder the more O''Dea kept going back and forth across the floor like a


    lunatic, waving his gun in the air.


    "Holy mother of Christ," he slobbered all over himself. "I''m sorry!"


    In his delirious state the man couldn''t decide whether to race for the front door or faint to the floor. No


    matter what he found himselfpletely engulfed inside the ravages of insanity to the point where he


    was pointing his still warm gun at the walls around him.


    "Come..e out and show yourself!" He began to weep.


    Just as O''Dea was about to head for the front door, on the wall directly in front of him he noticed it


    actually moving, or breathing in and out. The man stood and watched in horror as the wall kept


    pulsating before what looked to be a snout with fangs made an imprint within the wall, appearing as if it


    wanted to tear right through.


    O''Dea attempted to fire his gun only to have it click repeatedly due to ack of bullets. Without haste


    he rushed for the front door, opened it and mmed it as hard as he could right behind him. Sweating


    profusely and huffing and puffing was all Mike O''Dea could seem to do while stumbling backwards off


    the porch and tripping over his own feet in the process. He got up to see not only the two men that


    were on the other side of the street still standing and gawking at him, but also other neighbors curiously


    observing just what on earth was happening.


    O''Dea suddenly remembered that he had a gun in his hand; he also realized just where he was as he


    caught sight of the police car that was still parked at the curb. Ever so cautiously he slipped his revolver


    back into his coat pocket before gathering his copsed senses and walking down the street only to be


    seized by the striking sight of the blood orange and red sky before him. It was such a remarkable


    sunset that cool evening that even O''Dea had to pause at its stunning disy. Not that he was


    enthralled by the image, but just the very sight caused his still racing heart to take brief pauses in


    between beatings. He was motionless before the sight of Sullivan and the creature behind the wall


    came rushing back into his brain.


    O''Dea took one final glimpse backwards at the neighborhood onlookers before resuming his mournful


    march down the block.

 Chapter 26

    Chapter 26


    Charles sat inside Audra''s apartment on a gusty evening staring down at his te that still had a


    sizable b of meatloaf lying to one side. Mahalia Jackson''s, ''How I got over,'' was ying on a low


    volume on the record yer that rested on the bureau behind Charles. The man sat and scraped at his


    te like a child. He couldn''t decide what to focus on more, the music ying behind him, or the wind


    outside the window. Every so often he would nce over at the window and the streemp beyond it


    that was burning bright as it possibly could for 6 p.m., as well as the tree beside it that was losing its


    leaves daily.


    Audra suddenly came back into the dining room and closed the blind before looking down at Charles''


    te. "Well, I thought you said you liked meatloaf." She grinned somewhat.


    Coming out of his stupor, Charles sat up and smiled, "I like it very much. I was just thinking for a few


    moments."


    Audra sat herself down at the small table opposite Charles before she began eating away at thest


    bits of her okra. "It makes me wonder if Mrs. Mercer made better meatloaf than me." She smirked.


    Chuckling, Charles replied, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with your cooking. I''m quite sure Mr.


    Watson enjoyed every bit of it himself."


    Blushing, Audra said, "Shoot, that poor man ate like an ant. People used to call ''em Mr. String bean."


    Both Charles and Audra giggled amongst themselves for a few seconds before Charles finished the


    rest of his milk and sighed, "No, I was just wondering a few things to myself."


    "I wonder a lot, too. Like how many days it''ll take for me to get used to this time change all over again."


    Audra quipped.


    "I know. I sure do wish they would make up their minds on this daylight savings nonsense." Charles


    griped. "I always hate it when it gets dark at 5 p.m."


    Right then, Audra ced her fork down onto her te before rearing forward and asking, "Do you


    realize that this is the most conversation we''ve had ever since you arrived this evening?"


    Catching himself, Charles said, "Really? Sometimes people have to tell me to shut up."


    "You were certainly a chatterbox back at the hospital. But now, it seems ever since you arrived here,


    you''ve just shut down."


    Blushing, Charles sat back and exhaled long and deep. He knew exactly what Audra meant, and yet,


    he felt as if he had to tread lightly when it came down to his business.


    "It sure was great to see my grandson the other day." His eyes beamed.


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Smiling, Audra said, "I bet it was after all this time."


    "But as much as I enjoyed seeing him, I sure do wish I could''ve seen Lynn, too."


    "It''s sad that she just up and left her son the way she did."


    Wincing in his seat, Charles said, "I don''t think she simply just up and left. Lynn is a good girl. Thest


    time I saw her she was such a mess. And I surely didn''t help matters myself. I just feel as if she''s into


    something a lot deeper than I first thought."


    "You don''t think she''s in some kind of danger do you?" Audra frowned.


    It took a moment for Charles to answer. "I pray to God that''s not the case." He murmured with his head


    down. "She and Isaac was such a good couple before...before everything went downhill."


    Appearing faintly surprised, Audra remarked, "I believe that this is the first time you''ve actually


    mentioned your son to me since you were in the hospital."


    Charles'' eyes gradually met with Audra''s at that instant in a syrupy kind of sentiment. "He was such a


    good boy." His voice spoke so soft and fond. "Me and his mama were so happy when he was born.


    After all the mess I did in my life, and to think that God would bless me so richly."


    There crept upon both Charles and Audra such a blissful calm inside the dining room that one would


    believe that their very souls had vacated their bodies.


    "I remember the time he told me he wanted to be a pastor." Charles cracked a smile. "Both his mama


    and I about fainted. We were happy, mind you, but that boy was so into sinful music and girls that


    hearing him say those words about gave us a heart attack."


    Audra began tough out loud while Charles himself just smiled and sat up in his chair with his hands


    folded. The man could feel the ice beginning to melt away, but the cier was still as mighty and


    present as ever.


    "Yes sir, he sure was a good boy." His voice floated away.


    "I have to admit that not having any children was my biggest regret." Audra somberly remarked. "My


    husband felt that doing his work down at the church was far more important than starting a family."


    "Well, I am sorry about that." Charles humbly stated.


    "So am I." Audra sighed. "But at least you got a chance to love your son for the time he was here."


    Charles sat and peered down at the white table cloth before allowing his thoughts to distance himself


    away from Audra once more.


    "Charles? Charles, are you okay?" Audra stared hard at the man.


    Charles'' eyes remained on the table while he said, "Around this timest year, my son stumbled upon


    something very ugly. And believe me when I say, I know all about ugliness."


    Looking confused and standoffish, Audra asked, "How do you mean?"


    Charles then looked up at Audra with stiff eyes. "Do you remember that incident that took ce back in


    February with that young man that nearly killed his fianc¨¦e and son?"


    Audra sat and reflected before turning back to Charles with a stunned re on her face. "That was


    your son?" Her voice stretched.


    Charles shamefully nodded his head and replied, "Something took my son away from me long before


    that horrible night. And I believe that same something has followed me right here to this ce. I also


    believe that it has Lyte as well."


    Audra sat back in her seat and stared ever so strangely at the man. Her eyes gave off the impression


    that she was able to gather bits and pieces of what he was trying to say, but her face told the story of a


    woman who was stumbling into territory that she didn''t want to tread upon.


    "What kind of something are you talking about?" She asked. "Because I''ve seen people of all ages and


    colors get into stuff they have no business being in to begin with."


    "No, no, Isaac wasn''t into drugs. He did a lot of things, but drugs weren''t one of them. These past few


    months I''ve been going up the wall trying to figure out something that I know deep down in my soul


    doesn''t make any sense. I''ve been reading all these ridiculous books and watching all kinds of movies


    here and there, and still, I can''t bring myself to even begin to believe such a thing."


    "Such a thing as what," Audra became agitated.


    Charles ringed his hands before saying, "The other day, when I was fixing Robin''s sink, I felt it. I even


    felt it when I met the fe in number eight."


    "Oh, that''s Russell Parrish." Audra callously waved her hand. "He got out of Vietnam three years ago."


    "Is that right?"


    "Yep," she responded. "He''s harmless. All he does is stay inside his apartment and y music. If he''s


    not doing that then he''s walking all over town like he''s homeless. He gets a check from the Army every


    month, so as long as he pays his rent on time and doesn''t bother anybody then he''s fine."


    "I''m not saying that he or Robin, or anyone else for that matter is the problem. I''m saying that this thing


    that''s following me could try and take me down with it all over again like it tried to do back in the


    summer. It took Isaac, and it tried to take Lynn and Isaiah, too."


    "What do you believe this thing is?" Audra crossed her legs.


    Charles looked Audra up and down right before he got up from out of his chair and sat down in the seat


    that was ced right next to her. Both of them drew close to each other at that instant as the record on


    the turnstile finished its final song. Charles wanted to reach out and grab a hold of Audra''s hands, but


    heposed himself, not wanting to be too direct with his emotions. Instead, he sat and looked at


    Audra with trembling lips.


    "I...I know that you don''t like talking about it all that much, and believe me when I say, I totally


    understand. But I''ve been meaning to ask you about this for the past few months, and I think now is as


    good of a time as any."


    Much to his surprise, Audra took Charles'' hands before she uttered with a serious face, "What did you


    want to ask me?"


    Charles breathed in and out before saying, "I need to know just what exactly went on inside that


    shelter."


    Immediately, Audra withdrew her warm grip from Charles before sitting back in her chair and looking


    away. Charles could see the ssiness in her eyes. The veryst thing he wanted was to harm Audra


    in any fashion, but he just couldn''t seem to maintain himself any longer.


    "Please, Audra...I have to know what went down in there that night." He pleaded.


    "Why?" Audra spun her head around with such ire.


    "Because you were there, and what you saw may be able to help me put this puzzle together ande


    out of this nightmare. You see, ever since Isaac passed, I''ve been having these visions. I can see all of


    these horrible things, but I can''t even see my child without it being something just as terrible. I


    remember thest night I spoke to him. I had to cuss that boy out. Funny thing is, I barely recall what I


    even said. I think it had something to do with a dog."


    Audra dropped her head and sighed. Charles could sense that the subject was bearing down upon her


    to the point where pulling out just one word seemed to cause her hands to shake.


    Audra looked back up, but away from Charles. "You have to understand, I went next door to the


    hardware store to use the phone because our power went out." Her voice shuddered. "Even before I


    could get back to the shelter, I heard nothing but screaming and yelling inside. Lord help me, I was just


    too scared to go back in there. All those women and their blessed little children," Audra began to cry.


    It was busting Charles up inside just to hear her tell the story, and still, he didn''t want her to stop. Every


    fiber in his body just had to hear more and even more after that.


    "I could hear that thing inside there just going crazy. There I was, standing at the front door as some of


    the people came flying out...and some didn''t. I was too scared and stuck in ce to even run and call


    the police. I never heard anything so terrible in my life. And to think...it was right inside that very ce.


    It killed this little girl named Andicka. She was such a sweet little thing."


    "You have nothing in this world to be ashamed of." Charles took Audra by the hand. "There wasn''t a


    thing you or anyone else could have done."


    Audra wiped her eyes and said, "It even got poor Meredith. She just wanted to do the Lord''s work."


    Charlespassionately nodded his head as he gripped Audra''s hands even tighter than before. He


    couldn''t be ripped away from the conversation even if the building were on fire.


    "When the police finally showed up, I went inside with them." Audra then broke down even more at that


    instant. "Dead people were all over the ce. Blood everywhere a person stepped."


    Just then, Audra jumped up from out of her chair and stood at the window. Charles sat and kept on


    staring away at the chair in which she once was seated in. His whole body wentpletely numb to


    where he couldn''t even feel the heat from the radiator by the window whisper into the side of his face. It


    was so quiet and moody inside the apartment that for a few breathtaking moments Charles could hear


    his heart thump in time with the tapping branches against the window.


    "It was such an odd evening." Audra suddenly muttered while looking out the window."


    "How so," Charles replied.


    "I knew every woman that came and went out of that ce on a daily basis. But there was this one girl,


    out of all of the others, that caught my attention the most. You see, before I left to go to the hardware


    store, I was sitting and speaking with Andicka''s mother, and that''s when the power went out. Everyone


    inside, including myself, all started to panic. Just as I was about to get up and go, I look over to my left


    to see this one youngdy just sitting on a bed and staring right back at us. I know I should have, but I


    never even bothered to ask what her name was. Getting the electricity back on was my only concern."


    Charles found himself blinking in and out of the conversation. It wasn''t that he was bored, but rather, he


    was conjuring in his mind the horrific death scene that Audra had presented to him. It was far more


    devastating to hear about it from the mouth of someone who was actually there. For a second or two


    he reconsidered his pleas to even start the discussion to begin with.


    Audra then turned away from the window and began back for the dining table. She sat herself down in


    her chair and said, "It was such an evil summer." Her voice cracked.


    "Yes, God...it surely was." Charles lowered his eyes.


    "The girl that was just sitting there even had these eyes. They were glowing in the dark. It just makes


    you wonder what these young folks are into these days." Audramented just as the telephone in the


    other room red out. "I''ll be back." She said as she got up and went away.


    At that very moment, Charles Mercer''s body felt as if it were glued right to the chair he was sitting in. All


    he could do was stare off at the wall ten feet ahead of him and recollect upon a pair of glowing eyes in


    his old bedroom.


    Coming back into the dining room, Audra announced, "Uh, speaking of Russell, he says that his icebox


    is on the fritz. Could you stop by tomorrow morning and check on it?"


    Charles sat and simply grunted his response rather than open his mouth. Audra stepped carefully


    towards Charles before tapping him on the shoulder and asking, "Are you okay?"


    Holding back his own tears, Charles remarked, "I never told you how or why I ended up in that


    hospital."


    "I figure you had a very bad ident."


    "No...it wasn''t an ident, Audra. Something very evil visited me that evening. I tried to escape it by


    walking up to the roof of my building, and...and ending it all."


    Audra''s face wentpletely pale at that instant as she sat back down in her chair. "You could''ve died.


    You of all people know that wasn''t the right thing to do." She gasped.


    Nodding his head with his lips poked out, Charles replied, "Yeah, I guess so. But I didn''t." He then


    sulked. "Do you realize that I''ve never been to see my son ever since they put him in the ground?"


    "Well, I can understand that. He''s not there anymore anyways."


    "You''re right, he''s not. He''s in hell."

 Chapter 27

    Chapter 27


    "Alright, Mrs. Howell, just make sure to rinse the tub out three times a day, and the ring should be gone


    by the end of the week. Call me if you need anything else." Charles exited apartment four and stood in


    the middle of the hallway gathering his tools.


    An older white man and woman walked by Charles down the hall as he sat his toolbox down onto the


    floor and scribbled on his notepad. The man continued on before taking a slight nce down the other


    end of the hallway to see apartment eight. Charles then slipped his pencil and notepad inside his back


    pocket and picked up his toolbox before carrying himself down to the door and knocking. It took exactly


    two seconds for Russell to fling open the door.


    Charles took an abrupt step backwards before looking up and smiling, "Good morning, sir."


    "Oh, good morning," Russell sullenly mumbled before stepping aside to allow Charles in.


    Feeling the coldness of his response, Charles made sure not to get too close to the young man as he


    entered into the darkened apartment.


    "Sorry I wasn''t able toest night." Charles said. "I had to wait for the drug store to open this


    morning so I could get some supplies."


    "Don''t worry about it." Russell replied as he shut the door behind him. "Mrs. Fuller let me put my food


    inside her icebox until mine got fixed."


    Charles took in as much of the living room area as his eyes would allow at once. From one end of the


    room to the other was nothing but dimness. Had it not been for the sun shining outside and poking tiny


    rays through the closed window shade it would have beenpletely ck. Much to Charles'' surprise


    Russell''s living room was neat and tidy; just a couch with an issue of yboy seated on one of the


    arms, a television and a bureau where a stereo was ced. Had he not known any better, Charles


    would have thought that the man had just recently moved in.


    Russell, who was wearing a brown sweater and a pair of blue jeans and socks made his way towards


    the kitchen.


    "The icebox is in here, man." He suspiciously muttered.


    Caught off guard for a moment, Charles came to and smiled, "Oh, okay, here Ie." He followed the


    young man inside the kitchen and right away saw the refrigerator before anything else.


    "These old Kelvinator''s ain''t what they used to be." Russell scratched at his unshaven beard.


    Cautiously approaching the icebox, Charles replied with a humble smirk, "No, sir, they sure aren''t."


    Skittish at the thought of opening the refrigerator''s door, Charles sucked in his gut and reached out.


    "I wish Mrs. Audra would buy some new ones." Russell blurted out. "She said these have been in here


    for years."


    Quickly snapping back, Charles said, "I see." He then gripped the handle and slowly opened the door


    to find nothing but an empty space where food once resided. Inside his own head he exhaled.


    The man rooted about inside before saying, "Yeah, it''s the motor alright." He observed. "I got exactly


    what you need right here."


    Charles turned and reached down into his toolbox to pull out the equipment he needed. He then stood


    back up and noticed Russell staring oddly right back at him before he continued turning back to the


    icebox. As Charles diligently worked he could feel Russell''s prating eyes burn a hole right into his


    back. He couldn''t help but to think that something was stirring not only within the young man''s mind,


    but also with the evil that had been following him. Charles could feel it like an oing car wreck. The


    longer the kitchen remained ominously silent the faster he seemed to work. The thought of getting out


    of the apartment as quickly as possible gave him the vigor of a toddler.


    "So, uh, if you don''t mind me asking, what happened to your leg?"


    Rolling his eyes, Charles kept on working while replying, "Well, I had a bit of an ident a few months


    back."


    "Yeah, I have idents, too." Russell sniggered.


    Charles was taken aback at the reaction. In his ears it sounded usatory rather than sympathetic.


    Charles then turned back around to his toolbox and managed to catch a glimpse of Russell leaning


    against the counter with his arms folded.


    "Every time I pass by your apartment I always hear music going." Charles went back to work. "What


    happened today?"


    "Oh, I guess I''m in one of those old funky moods." Russell said. "I really wanna go down to The Porter


    to catch the horror movie marathon they got going on."


    "Oh, I see." Charles grinned. "You like those kind of movies?"


    "Not really, but they take my mind off of things sometimes." Russell sort of grunted.


    Charles had to remind himself of where Russell had been before he opened his mouth and said,


    "Yeah...I can see how those kinds of flicks could get your mind distracted."


    "I heard that Bill Cosby and Sidney Poitier got a new moviein'' out, too."


    "Oh yeah," Charles perked up slightly. "What are they up to nowadays?"


    "They got a new movie called ''A Piece of the Action,'' I wanna see."


    "Shoot, I remember Sidney from a while ago." Charles said. "Really good actor."


    "Yeah, man, I just wanted to make sure my fridge was working again before I head out for the day."


    "Headin'' off to work?" Charles asked as he examined a pair of wires inside the refrigerator.


    Snickering, Russell replied, "Man, I don''t work anymore. Nah, all I do is just hang around. Mrs. Audra


    caught me staring out the window a few times. She said that I looked like Malcolm X, but without the


    gun."


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Charles just chuckled right back before turning around with the pair of wires in his hand. "It seems that


    not only is your motor out, but you got two frayed wires, too."


    Russell stood at attention to study the wires for himself before he leaned back against the counter''s


    edge once again, looking as if Charles had the situation under control.


    "You got something for that?" Russell asked.


    "Well, I''ll have to head back down to the hardware store to get what I need for it."


    "That''s solid. It''s not like I have much to do myself." Russell once again scratched at his beard.


    Shutting the refrigerator''s door and picking up his toolbox, Charles began back for the living room with


    Russell following in behind him. All of the sudden, Charles saw Russell step right past him on his way


    to the couch where his yboy magazine was lying. Russell took the magazine and promptly stuffed it


    underneath one of the couch''s pillows. A bit startled, Charles stood in ce and stared strangely at the


    man for a second or two. Russell had the abrupt appearance of a person who was mortified.


    With a nervous grin on his face, Charles steadily asked, "Are you okay?"


    "Yeah, man, I just didn''t want you to see that." Russell blushed.


    Shaking his head and giggling, Charles replied, "Brother, I know exactly what that is. This is your


    apartment, you do whatever you see fit."


    "I know, but...knowing what you do for a living, I don''t want to offend you."


    Charles'' grin soon vanished before a concerned stare came upon his face. "What I do for a living?" He


    squared his eyes.


    Stuffing his hands into his back pockets, Russell said, "Yeah, being a preacher."


    Charles just dropped his head and blushed. "And just how do you know that I used to do that?"


    "Used to," Russell appeared puzzled. "What, you don''t preach anymore?"


    "I''m afraid not." Charlesmented. "That was a while ago."


    "But I was just at your churchst year."


    Charles'' feet were stuck permanently to the floor. Suddenly, right before his very eyes he could see a


    brand new person appearing before him. He wasn''t at any more ease than he was when he first walked


    into the apartment, but at least he was getting more than two words from out of the man''s mouth.


    "You''ve been to my church before?" Charles inquired with a curious eye.


    "Yeah, I wentst summer. You were preaching in the book of Exodus; something about Moses striking


    a rock."


    "Yeah...yeah, I recall that sermon." Charles faintly muttered.


    "Yeah, I remember your son was sitting up in the front row, too."


    Charles just gritted his teeth right then. "I must have not left much of an impression on you if you only


    came one time."


    Russell turned his head and smiled before looking back. "Man, I was in a bad ce in my life at that


    time. I was just going around...looking for something, I guess. Don''t get me wrong, I enjoyed your


    sermon. As a matter of fact, your church was thest I ever went to. I just needed to be to myself for a


    while."


    For Charles, it felt like his legs were being dragged underwater by an anchor at that instant. He was


    standing only six feet away from Russell and he could feel so much heat and emotion emanate from off


    the man''s body.


    "What made you quit preaching?"


    There wasn''t a muscle inside of Charles'' body that didn''t want to turn and storm out the door. His


    patience and threshold of pain were all drawing to a close.


    Swallowing as hard as he could, Charles responded, "Just like you, I needed to be to myself for a


    while."


    Russell stood and stared right back at Charles before he turned and began for the lone window inside


    his living room. "Yeah, I can definitely feel that." Russell said as he peered outside. "I know you wonder


    why I listen to the same song over and over again."


    "It''s crossed my mind a time or two."


    "Ever since I got back to the states, I''ve been trying my hardest to find a song that makes me


    feel...good. But when I heard that one song on the radio, I couldn''t help but to fall in love with it. I ran


    right out and got the album. I listen to it every day, at least ten times a day."


    "I think I can identify with that." Charles stated.


    Russell then pulled away from the window and sat himself down on his couch. "You didn''t know that I


    served over in the ''Nam,'' did you?" He looked up at Charles.


    Charles stood and stared down hard at Russell before muttering, "Hmm...ain''t that something?"


    Looking away, Russell said in a morose tone, "Yeah...yeah, it''s something. I saw so much bullshit over


    there. And I don''t care what anyone says, it wasn''t a white man''s war. A lot of my homeboys were


    taken out over there. ck, white, Mexican. There were even a couple of Japs serving with us. I saw


    so much blood and guts. Women and kids crying. I once saw this little boy, he couldn''t have been no


    more than six, get his entire head blown right off by some guy for not crossing the street in time."


    Russell then looked back at Charles. "So yeah, I need a song to lean on every so often."


    Charles couldn''t help but to stand still. In all honesty, he really didn''t know what was taking ce at that


    juncture. Every so often he would catch glimpses of a familiar soul residing inside of Russell, but


    Charles fought with all his might not to allow his own frazzled emotions to bring him to his knees.


    "Man, I''m 29 years old looking like I''m 50." Russell continued. "I feel like...like something has been


    happening to me. Something that I can''t seem to just shake off."


    "Look, I''ve got other¡ª


    "I didn''t need help with my icebox." Russell cut in. "I tore the wires myself."


    Right then, Charles'' stomach started to roll back and forth from agitation. He wanted to explode at the


    young man, but still, he was trapped to the floor like a nailed down piece of carpet.


    "Don''t worry, I can fix it myself. I just think it''s kind of...what''s that word that starts with an I? You know,


    when something happens out of the blue?"


    "Ironic." Charles sternly answered.


    "Yeah, that''s it. It''s ironic that a preacher moves into this building. And knowing now that you quit


    preaching, it makes me wonder what could have driven you from your calling. It must''ve been


    something really, really bad. I had a wife and daughter before I left for boot camp back in ''69. But when


    I got back home to St. Louis, I knew I couldn''t go back to see them. Not in the condition I was in. So I


    came all the way here. I''m real messed up in the head, man." He began to shiver.


    "It''s just shbacks and the such." Charles bluntly remarked. "You need to go back to your family like a


    man is supposed to do. Be d that you still have a family at all."


    "No, no, it''s not just shbacks. My doctor told me the same thing. She gave me all kinds of meds, but


    still, I can''t shake the things I saw. I''ve been having hallucinations."


    Bing more frustrated by the minute, Charles stood and said, "Hallucinations are a part of what you


    experienced in the war. I''ve never been to war before. I''m just an old field hand from the sticks who


    came to the city to be a pimp. You need to go back to your doctor and tell her to up your


    medication." Charles harshly stated as he found the strength to turn and head for the door.


    "I walk all over this city, night and day!" Russell said out loud. "I walk here and there, just to pass the


    time. I see pimps, hoes and homeless people. People in love walking in the parks. I walk all over this


    city, from edge to edge. But I know my mind is messing with me because...because I walked into


    something this past summer."


    "Boy, everyone in this city walked into something this past summer." Charles sighed.


    Russell stared at Charles for a moment before saying, "In all that hotness, I was walking, and while I


    was walking, I saw something crawl out of a sewer clear on the Westside of town."


    "What, a rat?" Charles sarcastically snickered.


    Russell just grinned. "Nah, this was a lot bigger than a rat. At first it looked like a dog, but then again, it


    was far too big to be a dog. It just jumped right out of this sewer and went along on all fours towards


    some alley. Man, I''ve never seen anything that big in my life. It couldn''t have seen me because I was


    hiding in the bushes about fifty yards or so away. But I managed to follow it before it came to the alley.


    The damn thing just stopped in the middle and began circling right before it copsed."


    Right there, Russell''s eyes started to water as he wanted to speak again, but his mouth seemed to be


    having a hard time pushing out a single word.


    "You see...my mind, it, it doesn''t think right." He stuttered. "I watched this thing, this animal, do


    something. It was shaking and shaking, and then...it stopped shaking and started to shrink. It kept on


    shrinking until it finally stopped. I must''ve hid in those bushes for at least an hour before I finally got the


    nerve toe out and see what was lying in that alley. I crept over, and right there, I saw this naked,


    ck woman. She was asleep with her eyes open. I mean, she was still breathing, but she was snoring


    with her eyes wide open. I was too scared to try and wake her. I just ran away as fast as I could. Now


    ain''t that about a bitch?" Russell looked up at Charles with a face full of tears. "That''s how messed up


    my brain is. That''s what Vietnam did to me. That''s why I can''t go back to St. Louis. How can I go back


    to my family with a brain that''s all fucked up?"


    Charles'' red eyes were brooding down upon Russell like an owl upon a hapless mouse. The only thing


    holding the man together at that point was the mere fact that his heart was still beating, besides that,


    he had taken aplete out of body experience. There was no anger, fear or even sadness for that


    matter, Charles Mercer no longer existed as far as he was concerned.


    Wiping his teary face, Russell belligerently asked, "So, tell me, preacher man, what messed up your


    mind bad enough for you to walk away from the pulpit?"


    Charles made sure his tool box was firmly locked before looking back at Russell and uttering in the


    deepest, most firm voice, "Quit tearing up your appliances, nigga."


    From there Charles turned and stormed out the door, totally forgetting that he was partially crippled. His


    dogged pace down the hallway and towards the stairs was fierce. He dropped his tool box to the floor,


    allowing all of its contents to spill down the stairs before he bolted out the front door.

 Chapter 28

    Chapter 28


    With two other people getting off before him, Charles hobbled off of the city bus and onto the


    pavement. He stood for a few seconds and looked to his left and to his right before eventually making


    up his mind to turn right. With his trusty cane the man carried on down the sidewalk without thefort


    of a jacket on such a cool morning. He was beingpelled to move forward as fast as his crippled


    legs could take him. Hisrge girth carelessly bumped into one person after another; and being as big


    as he was no one seemed too brave to even turn and reprimand the forceful man.


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    Charles was nearing a location, he had its sights locked in like a finely tuned target, all he needed was


    to carry himself a few more yards ahead and he was there. Everything and everyone was copsing in


    on him to the point where just thinking of Isaac became abor. For the first time since he had died,


    Charles no longer wanted to even remember his son. He wanted the boypletely erased from his


    psyche as soon as possible. And as a matter of fact, he wanted everyone to be out of his range. It was


    such a pulsating tidal wave of emotion that even the pain in his legs was gradually dissipating.


    Charles had arrived. Before him was the abandoned women''s shelter. Its dark front section made the


    building appear as if it were well over a hundred years old, even though it hadn''t been used since the


    summertime. Charles stood at the front steps and just studied the stained painted writing on the


    boarded up front door. His face was a picture of total concentration and defiance. He couldn''t even


    grab hold of one single thought inside his head without balling up his fists in rage.


    Giving the passing sidewalk dwellers onest nce, Charles carried himself along the side of the


    building until he met up with the alley. He then turned to see the backdoor that had only a heavy chain


    wrapped around the double locks. With a brooding re gracing his warm face, Charles stepped


    forward and gripped the steel chain as tight as he could before twisting its links until a portion of it


    broke loose.


    Then, with his strong right hand he grabbed hold of the door''s handle and pushed until the door flung


    wide open. Making sure no one was roaming about in the alley Charles made his way inside before


    shutting the door behind him. The kitchen area was cold and dark despite daylight shining through the


    misty, cobwebbed windows. Charles looked all around and took in a whiff of air that resembled both


    must and something burning.


    Once he had had enough of the kitchen both he and his cane went for the front gathering area. Beyond


    the threshold he emerged to find only arge, empty space where women and children all once


    assembled for shelter. The passing noise outside from the vehicles and people had pretty much


    vanished by that point inside his ears. Charles'' focus was solely upon the ce in which he was


    standing. From the four, bare walls to the wooden floor where spots of blood could still be seen in


    various ces, he made sure not to miss one detail. As Charles turned around and around out of


    nowhere he spotted a small cross still nailed to one of the walls. How he managed to miss it the first


    time was beyond him, but he was long over questioning the mysterious. Instead, he stood before the


    symbol and looked at it in such subdued awe that it appeared as though it were the very first time he


    had everid eyes upon such a thing before.


    With quivering jaws Charles drew closer to the cross before uttering, "So...here I am, once more. What


    do you have to say for yourself?"


    Both his right hand and the cane that was secured in it began trembling before the cross. "I haven''t


    heard a word from you in months, and now...now here you are?" His voice grew intense. "Here you are,


    of all ces. I have been asking and begging and pleading with you to guide me. I have served you for


    all these years, and yet and still I hear nothing from you. I know you''re there. Now more than ever I


    believe in you, but I don''t believe for one moment that¡ª


    At that very moment, right in the midst of his rant, something began creeping towards Charles from


    behind. The man spun around to see a figure in all whiteing around a corner all hunched over. The


    person stood for a second before lifting its head and revealing a set of shiny, white fangs and painted


    white face. Charles had seen the person before, and spotting her at that juncture didn''t seem to


    surprise him all too much. She stood and smiled at him from just sixty feet away clear on the other side


    of the room.


    Charles held his ground before the cross that was nailed to the wall behind him came flying at the back


    of his head. The man turned around and held his head in agony before looking back at the cackling


    fiend before him.


    She was such a hideous thing that just looking at her caused Charles to want to turn away in revulsion.


    She was bent over but for a reason, and that reason was bing more apparent as she began to


    lurch closer to Charles. Attached to the back of her all white gown was what appeared to be half of


    something; half of a man to be exact. Charles took a closer gander before recognizing the person to be


    none other than thete Leroy Cummins whose face looked as if he himself were in utter anguish.


    Charles turned back around and reached down to the floor to pick up the cross. He then twisted and


    pointed the symbol back at the woman.


    "In the name of Christ Jesus our Lord and Savior, I bid you be gone from¡ª


    But the cross ripped right out of his hand before he could finish his sentence. The thingnded clear


    past the woman. Charles looked down at his bleeding left hand before he noticed the entire room


    growing ominously red right before his eyes. From one corner to the other was nothing but dark red,


    like someone had screwed in a crimson light bulb and allowed it to shine ever so brightly. Charles


    couldn''t tell if he was imagining the scene or living in a reality, but there was one thing that he was sure


    of, he was still alive.


    "Who in the holy hell are you?" He screamed out loud at the woman.


    But all she did was continue to stand and smile before taking her pointy right index finger and directing


    it straight at Charles. Instantly, the man went down to his knees in pain and began hollering his lungs


    out. He looked at his own two hands to see them grow into ws. Fur soon began protruding from


    them as well before he could feel his teeth extend inside his mouth.


    Charles yelled so hard that blood began to shoot right out of his mouth and onto the floor. "God...help


    me please!"


    The ghoulish womanughed and carried on without saying a mumbling word at the poor man''s


    expense. Charles tried in vain to crawl towards the woman but his efforts were halted by the


    excruciating pain of his face that felt as if it were on fire as it stretched outwards.


    The agony was so overbearing that Charles only desired death to take him, even if it meant that he had


    to bring it about much sooner upon his own self.


    "What the hell is going on in here?" A white, male police officer rushed in through the kitchen with


    another officer taking up the rear.


    Charles was lying on the floor holding his face while both officers attempted to gather the man. "Please


    help me!" He continued to scream.


    Both of the men looked at each other strangely, but all Charles had to do was open his eyes and re


    around to see not only the evil woman gone, but also the red in the room vanish away as his hands


    went all but back to normal.


    He touched his sweaty face to find it only unshaven, as it was when he first awoke earlier in the day.


    "I...I felt it!" He stuttered and stammered like a madman. "Let my boy go, Satan!"


    "Looks like we got us another transient," one of the officers rolled his eyes as he helped Charles to his


    feet. "C''mon, buddy, you can''t be in here. We''ll take you down to the men''s shelter where you belong."


    But Charles was in too much of a rage to be contained. Even though he couldn''t see the woman any


    longer, he could still feel her ghastly presence within the room.


    "Let me go, motherfucker!" Charles wrestled and tangled with both men in an attempt to free himself


    from their grip.


    "Cut that out or we''ll have to take you in!" One of the men ordered.


    Charles continued to fight until he was able to turn and backhand one of the officers. And that was all


    they could take at that point. Immediately both men wrestled Charles back to the floor before managing


    to secure his hands behind his back and lock them in a pair of cuffs.


    "Free my boy!" Charles sobbed so loud.


    "You have the right to remain silent!" One of the men struggled to recite as he and his partner hoisted


    Charles back to his feet.


    Out the backdoor and back around to the front where a cruiser was already waiting was where they


    took him as onlookers gawked and gazed at the desperate man who wouldn''t stop crying his eyes out.


    "Let ''em go, Devil!" Charles yelled at the crowd. "Let my son go!"


    The Miranda rights continued to be recited as Charles was ced inside the back of the cruiser. Heid


    himself down on the seat as the officers climbed inside and took off down the road.


    He couldn''t stop wailing; even the officers that had arrested him had to take notice of the man every so


    often just to make sure he was alright.

 Chapter 29

    Chapter 29


    The Porter Theater proudly presents:


    Halloween Horror Hijinks


    Our ssic Horrorfest Matinee this evening: Drac, The Mummy, The Creature from the ck


    Lagoon. And our special engagement, Fritz The Cat.


    Jeremiah, along with a host of perhaps several others sporadically spread throughout the theater, sat


    quietly and watched as the cartoon cat and his girlfriend caroused and frolicked before engaging in an


    orgy of cartoon sex. Jeremiah was seated in the second to thest row.


    Jeremiah, with his right hand inside his pants, massaged his organ from side to side, all the while


    keeping a watchful eye on anyone who may have been passing by in his vicinity. The man wasn''t all


    too troubled by the fact that he was inside a movie theater pleasuring himself; all that mattered to him


    was the climax. As far as Jeremiah was concerned he was the only person there. His attention was


    rattled, but not to where he felt the need to tear himself away from the screen ahead. He jerked and


    pulled faster until the orgasm struck his entire body, causing him to jolt slightly in his seat and shut his


    eyes.


    Once Jeremiah was through with the tion, he opened his eyes and pulled his hand out of his pants


    beforeposing himself. He then looked at the other men inside the theater to find them all either


    steadily watching the film or slumped over asleep.


    Jeremiah nervously took off his sses and wiped the lenses before cing them back onto his face.


    He then happened to nce behind him at the empty row which even in the darkness he could see


    was still unupied.


    The moment his curiosity was sated he turned back around to spot a maning back into the theater


    from the lobby with a box of popcorn in hand. The man kept on walking until he found his seat clear


    down at the very front row. Behind Jeremiah, however, someone so stealthy materialized in the very


    last seat in the row. It was none other than Isaac Mercer, dressed in an all-ck suit and tie. The man''s


    face was downcast in the darkness as he stared straight over at an unassuming Jeremiah, and only


    Jeremiah.


    Jeremiah kept watching the screen with a nk lethargy, as if his eternal time was being wasted. On


    the back of his neck he could feel a sudden brush of cool air caressing him. He budged only an inch or


    two without taking a nce behind him. Soon enough, however, his own boredom got the best of him.


    The cool air on his neck was gradually bing a nuisance, along with the idiocies of an animated


    hippie cat and his misadventures.


    Jeremiah stood up from his seat and simply dragged his body out of the row and eventually out of the


    theater altogether. He passed the concession stand in the lobby on his way out the door and into the


    night to find some white and ck teenagers standing aroundughing and hanging out.


    Text ? 2024 N?velDrama.Org.


    Jeremiah zipped up his jacket and carried on past the young ones on the way to his Camaro that was


    parked in the lot. The very instant Jeremiah got inside a heavy nket of quiet stroked his body. He sat


    and soaked in its luster for as long as he could before the boisterous noises of the kids from across the


    parking lotughing out loud disrupted his calm. That was when the cool air began to creep inside the


    vehicle. Jeremiah turned on the ignition before giving the theater one final glimpse. He did what he had


    to do inside; he was pleased with himself, if not for only a few minutes. And with that, the man pulled


    out of the lot and onto the road.


    The section of town he was driving in wasn''t exactly the most desirable, even though there were far


    worse. He was only five minutes away from Downtown, which meant that he wasn''t all too far from his


    own home; the veryst ce on earth he wanted to end up.


    As he tooled along Jeremiah couldn''t help but to be whipped across the back of his neck by more cool


    air. Rather than turn around he simply cut on the heat inside the car and allowed its warm breath to


    whisper into his face. But still, the stifling coolness from the backseat continued to press against his


    skin.


    Jeremiah came to a stop at a traffic light. Just as he was about to spin around his eyes suddenly


    caught a collection of brightly d women all standing together in a huddle at a nearby corner. The


    very second Jeremiah spotted one particrdy he immediately flicked his headlights off and on


    before looking all around and carefully pulling over towards the curb. He reached over and rolled down


    the window. Checking from left to right Gwen came over dressed in a pair of red, high-heeled boots and


    a ck fur coat.


    "Hey, buddy, can you get me outta here?" She poked her blushing red face through the open window.


    "You betcha," Jeremiah replied while unlocking the door.


    Gwen swiftly jumped into the car and mmed the door shut. "You remember what we talked about the


    other night about going to your ce, right?"


    Pulling back onto the road, Jeremiah hesitantly replied with a gulp, "Uh...yeah, I remember. That''s not a


    problem."


    "Good, because it''s getting too hot even out here," Gwen griped while taking a tube of lipstick from out


    of her purse and marking her lips with it in the rearview mirror. "Justst night, a girlfriend of mine was


    taken in."


    "Really," Jeremiah sounded concerned.


    "Yep, she has two kids she has to feed, too. Poor girl, this is all she needs, the fuzz breathing down her


    neck for working."


    Jeremiah just shamefully shook his head from side to side while relishing in his mind what he needed


    to doter on. The thought of going back to his apartment again had been lingering about inside his


    head for days. And sitting there right next to Gwen''s warm and willing body didn''t make his decision


    any more desirable.


    Sighing, Gwen blurted out, "Look, about the other night, I didn''t mean toe off so rude."


    Coming back to life, Jeremiah smirked, "Oh...don''t worry about it."


    "No, no, I know I can be a real asshole sometimes, but you just have to understand that I''m not used to


    nice guys in this business."


    "Don''t mention it. I guess we Jewish folk have a knack for running our mouths a little too much."


    "You''re Jewish?" Gwen looked over astonished.


    "Uh, yeah," Jeremiah replied in a rather apprehensive way.


    "Geez," Gwen giggled. "Don''t take offense to this, but I honestly thought you were German at first."


    Jeremiahughed out loud before saying, "That''s a trip!"


    "Yeah, tell me about it!" Gwenughed right back. "So tell me, how did you end up finding me out here


    of all ces? What, do you have one of those Lost in Space trackers or something?"


    Jeremiah continued to smile. "Actually, I was at The Porter catching a couple of films."


    "Oh, I forgot that wasn''t too far from where I was."


    "I don''t want you to think that I''m following you or keeping tabs on you. I guess I just enjoy talking to


    someone every now and then."


    Nodding her head, Gwen asked, "So are you saying that I''m your favorite?"


    "I guess you could say that." Jeremiah nced her way. "You''ve put up with me this long."


    Patting him on his knee, Gwen replied, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you''re my favorite, too. But


    don''t let that go to your head. I mean, we won''t be having Thanksgiving dinner together anytime soon."


    Jeremiahughed again. "I understand.


    "Damn, I swear I love this time of the year." Gwen sped her hands together in a rubbing motion.


    "Halloween and cool nights. C''mon, let''s turn on the radio and have some fun!"


    Jeremiah was more than eager to grant her wish as he reached forward and cut on the radio. Instantly,


    Queen''s, ''We are the Champions,'' sted out on the speakers.


    "Now that''s what I''m talking about!" Gwen burst out in enthusiasm. "At least they''re not ying that


    stupid Star Wars song for the umpteenth time! God, I''ve had it up to here with that shit!"


    Jeremiah just kept on down the road that eventually led to the highway while keeping an anxious eye


    on the portion of Gwen''s legs that wasn''t covered by her knee high boots.


    "I''ve never been much of a fan of British rock, but these guys aren''t too bad." Gwen stated. "Listening


    to this while standing around on the corner could definitely keep a person in a warm state of mind."


    "I can see how you mean." Jeremiah stared a moment at Gwen.


    "Speaking of warm, how is it that you have the heat on in here and it still feels cold?" She looked all


    around the car.


    Jeremiah as well was awestruck at the urrence, but all he could think of doing was turning the


    heater up one more notch and saying, "I''m no car expert, but something tells me that this thing may be


    on the fritz."


    The more he fiddled with the heater, the cooler it seemed to be inside the vehicle until he just


    gave up.


    "How much further do you live from here?"


    "Uh, about ten more miles," Jeremiah responded.


    "Good, because it feels almost like winter in here," Gwen blew into her hands.


    Jeremiah felt it as well...it was far too cold.


    ***


    "So, if you were a shrink, why did you leave your practice?" Gwen asked while climbing out of


    Jeremiah''s car. "I mean, you seem like a really smart guy. Was it too hard for you anymore?"


    Getting out and locking his door behind him, Jeremiah reluctantly sighed, "Sometimes we be so


    overwhelmed to where listening to other people''s problems bes a burden."


    "Well, I guess that would exin the nice car." Gwen surmised as she followed Jeremiah towards the


    four story condominium up ahead.


    Jeremiah simply disregarded the statement and focused all of his jittery attention on the building which


    he was drawing closer and closer to with every passing second.


    There were several peopleing out of the front doorughing and joking around. Both Jeremiah and


    Gwen passed them on the way inside. Jeremiah dropped his head and made sure they were just


    simple blurs in the night. As they entered into the clean building and stood at the elevator, Gwen


    couldn''t help but to scan the lobby area in marvelous wonder.


    "This ce is gorgeous. Why haven''t we beening here all the time? What, are you too


    embarrassed?" She smirked.


    Jeremiah blushed before saying, "No, no, it''s not that. They''ve just been doing some...construction


    around here. The paint smell tends to make a person real sick after a while."


    The elevator doors opened. Jeremiah and Gwen both boarded and rode all the way up to the fourth


    floor. Even before the doors opened once more, Jeremiah''s stomach took an uphill flight right into his


    throat. The doors flung open so quickly that he thought the elevator itself wasn''t operating properly.


    Stepping out and onto the floor, Gwen continued to be overtaken by the grandeur of the unspoiled


    white walls and newly shampooed carpet.


    "This ce is a pce." Her eyes bugged out. "I guess shrinks really do good for themselves."


    Dragging his feet with his hands inside his jacket pockets, Jeremiah bashfully murmured, "Yeah, but I


    won''t be here too much longer."


    "Why not," Gwen asked.


    "I''m unemployed." He shrugged his shoulders. "I kinda left my other practice abruptly. If I don''t find


    something by the end of this month, then I can kiss this ce goodbye."


    Snickering, Gwen replied, "Then that means you don''t have much longer to go, buddy."


    ncing back, Jeremiah haplessly remarked, "Yeah, tell me about it."


    Jeremiah stopped at a door and pulled a key from out of his back pocket. He then unlocked the door


    and flicked on the light switch that was found on the left side of the wall. Instantly the entire living room


    was illuminated in a dull, soothing light from corner to corner. Jeremiah allowed Gwen inside before


    closing the door behind him.


    "Why don''t you give me your coat?" Jeremiah offered, taking her fur off.


    "Thanks." Gwen drifted away as she toured the sizable living room which was furnished with a big


    screen television, two couches and a recliner.


    "Go ahead and have a seat." Jeremiah pointed at one of the couches. "Would you like something to


    drink?"


    Sitting herself down, Gwen responded, "You got a beer?"


    "Yeah," Jeremiah said as heid her fur down onto the other couch and took off towards the kitchen.


    "I''ve got Michelob and Budweiser!" He announced from the refrigerator.


    "Budweiser will do!"


    Jeremiah took out one bottle and brought it back into the living room where Gwen wasfortably


    seated.


    "Thanks." She took the bottle. "Hey, I know it''ste, but do you think I can catch the news real quick? I


    promise I won''t charge you extra." She smiled.


    Smiling back, Jeremiah responded, "Sure, go ahead. I gotta go and clean up a bit in the bathroom. I''ll


    be right back."


    Jeremiah scooted on into the bathroom. He turned on the light inside the tiny room and quickly took a


    leak inside the toilet before stepping over to the sink, grabbing a dry rag and scrubbing his midsection.


    Once he was through cleansing himself, he tossed the wet rag into a nearby basket and turned to catch


    the one thing in the mirror that had seized him so violently...his reflection. The man stood at the sink


    and studied himself for the longest time. His overgrown beard and red eyes made him appear as


    though he hadn''t taken a wink of rest in weeks. Ever so sullenly he reached into his back pocket to pull


    out a photo of Julie. All he could do was stand and stare at the woman. He expected emotion; whether


    good or bad. But nothing registered inside of him, not even a hint or tingle, justplete and utter


    stillness.


    A cat''s meow all of the sudden disrupted Jeremiah''s brooding. Immediately he dropped Julie''s picture


    into the sink and picked up the ck and white feline.


    "Hey there, little guy." Jeremiah petted the purring animal. "Sorry I was gone for so long."


    "I think there''s a short with your kitchen lights!" Gwen said out loud.


    Subtly rmed, Jeremiah, with his cat in his arms, came back into the living room to see exactly what


    she was talking about.


    "Hey, I didn''t know you had a cat." Gwen jumped up from off the couch. She immediately took the cat


    out of Jeremiah''s arms and embraced it in her own. "My grandkids want a cat for Christmas. If things


    keep going well for me then they just may get their wish."


    "What were you saying about the kitchen again?"


    "Oh, I was just sitting here watching TV and then the lights in there starteding off and on."


    Jeremiah looked straight into the kitchen to see the lights remain stationary. "I just changed the bulb


    last month. I can''t imagine what it could be." He shrugged.


    "Oh," Gwen looked up as she drew close to Jeremiah''s ear, "and just so you know, threesomes will be


    extra."


    Jeremiah took a quaint step back with a puzzled look on his face. "Come again?"


    "I said, threesomes will be extra," Gwen continued to caress the cat.


    Jeremiah''s facial expression never went away, as a matter of fact it only deepened the more


    nonchnt Gwen was in exining herself. "I...you''ve got me at a loss." He stammered.


    "It''s okay, I''ve done ck guys before." Gwen lowered her voice. "Just let your roommate know that I


    don''t like it rough. Those guys can get a little aggressive, if you know what I mean."


    Jeremiah pulled away from Gwen and stormed into the kitchen to find itpletely void of any other


    individual. Racing back into the living room, Jeremiah grabbed Gwen by the arm before pulling her


    towards the hallway.


    "What''s the matter?" She struggled.


    "Uh...never mind, let''s juste in here."


    "But what about your roommate," Gwen dropped the cat to the floor.


    Yanking Gwen into his bedroom, Jeremiah mmed the door shut and looked the woman dead in the


    eye. "Look, I don''t know what you think you saw, but I don''t have a roommate." He gasped for air.


    "So who was the guy in¡ª


    Without allowing her toplete her sentence, Jeremiah immediately grabbed Gwen and nted a


    big, wet kiss on her lips.


    "Are you okay?" She jerked herself away from the man''s grip.


    Just then, Jeremiah''s cat began to hiss at the closed closet door. Jeremiah spun around to see what


    was unsettling it.


    "Do you wanna tell me just what the hell is going on?" Gwen became restless.


    No sooner had she said that, the closet door''s knob began to rattle and twist, making it sound as if the


    door itself were about toe right off its own hinges.


    "Who''s in there?" Gwen skittishly began to back up.


    Jeremiah held his breath while nervously racing from the door to Gwen and back again inplete


    confusion. The cat assumed an attack position at that point, looking as if it were about two seconds


    from pouncing.


    "Look, I''m not into all this strange shit!" Gwen began to open the bedroom door.


    Jeremiah managed to grab Gwen by the arm. "Just wait!" He impatiently yelled.


    Gwen reached into her purse and whipped out a switchde before pointing its tip at Jeremiah''s face.


    "Stay away from me! I just wanna get outta here! And as a matter of fact, stay away from me from here


    on out or I''ll get my pimp on you!"


    Gwen flung open the bedroom door and sailed out as quickly as she could. But Jeremiah didn''t seem


    to possess the will to chase after her, he instead remained inside his bedroom, just five feet away from


    the closet door that was still trying it''s best to open.


    "Isaac...Isaac, if that''s you, please, I''m sorry!" He hollered with tears in his eyes. "I''m not the one who¡ª


    Right then, the closet door stopped rattling just before a beastly growl sounded from the other end.


    Jeremiah ceased to breathe at that very instant. He just stood with his mouth opened wide and


    watched along with his cat as the door slowly cracked open. It remained open for a few seconds before


    arge, hairy arm quickly reached out and snatched the cat inside with the door mming shut behind


    it.


    "Isaac, no," Jeremiah screamed his lungs out.


    The beast inside the closet roared and bumped up against the door, sounding as if it were fighting


    something as huge and monstrous as itself. For Jeremiah, he couldn''t tell if he were awake or asleep at


    that stage. All he was aware of was that he couldn''t budge an inch. Just standing in ce and shaking


    seemed to be the only movement he could register. He couldn''t even hear his cat inside the closet; just


    therger animal rampaging inside a small enclosure as if it were a cage.


    Then, without any warning, the rage came to an abrupt end. All was silent for a moment or two before


    the door opened and Jeremiah''s cat, or better yet, what was left of his cat, came hurtling out of the


    closet and onto the floor before his feet. Jeremiah managed to tear his eyes away from the closet door


    that remained open to look down at his mutted pet in sheer horror. Beyond all the blood he couldn''t


    tell the front end from the back. It looked like it had been run over two or three times by a truck.


    "What in the hell is going on in here?" A balding, middle-aged white man came into the bedroom in his


    pajamas.


    Jeremiah heard the man, but responding to his question was nearly impossible. The man gawked at


    Jeremiah for a moment before stepping past him and gazing down at the dead thing on the floor in


    disgust.


    "Are you kidding me?" He looked back at Jeremiah with jolting shock in his brown eyes. "You just killed


    your own cat." He then gasped before taking Jeremiah by the shoulders. "Look at me, fe! What the


    hell happened in here?


    Jeremiah took one more nce at the closet before tearing himself away from the man''s hold and


    running out of his bedroom and out the front door where other neighbors were standing and staring in


    wonder.


    "Hey,e back here!" The man yelled.


    But Jeremiah kept on running. He raced and tripped down the back stairs until he made it outside to his


    car, which he promptly got inside and took off down the road in.


    "I didn''t do it, Isaac." He mumbled to himself over and over again without ceasing. "Fuck you, too!" He


    then squealed as he pressed harder down onto the gas.


    Before he knew it, he was well past 120mph.

 Chapter 30

    Chapter 30


    The rain outside the cave that afternoon could be heard prating the cave''s walls so hard that it


    sounded as if it were going to copse right on top of everyone inside. The heat inside was as usual


    stifling. The stench of body odor and human waste,bined with the humidity and the dampness only


    made breathing unbearable and downright impossible. By then, everyone gathered and working knew


    how and when to take breaths; in small doses.


    Livingston, on his knees, meticulously worked with the various colored wires that were attached to a set


    of explosives. He tinkered feverishly, yet carefully, making sure not to insert certain wires into the wrong


    slots. There were multiple sounds thriving inside his head, namely the rain just twenty or so feet behind


    him outside the cave, the workers digging into the walls and gagging as if they couldn''t breathe any


    longer, and his own heartbeat that wouldn''t slow down for anything.


    "Blimey!" He griped under his breath at the tiny sparks that flew into his face.


    A roll of thunder caused the man to look up and back at the cave''s entrance where Philippe was


    standing with his rifle in hand.


    "Philippe,e over right quick!"


    Lethargically, the man did as ordered and stood above Livingston. Livingston continued to work with


    the wires more and more before saying to Philippe, "Stand here."


    Philippe sat his weapon down onto the ground before kneeling and asking, "What is it?"


    Taking a blue and yellow wire, Livingston remarked, "Take these, and no matter what, don''t drop them."


    Philippe secured the wires asmanded while watching Livingston fiddle with the dynamite like they


    were toys.


    "You and the others have been awfully quiet all day." Livingston mentioned without looking at the young


    man. "What''s the issue?"


    Philippe''s eyes shifted from side to side in rapid session. "It''s...it''s just him." He stuttered.


    "Him, who," Livingston turned up his nose.


    "You know...him."


    Livingston nced at Philippe for a second before re-directing his attention back at his work. "Just stay


    focused on what we''re doing here." He muttered as if his words were too sphemous to be said out


    loud.


    "But, how can we stay focused when he''s out dere doing what he''s doing?"


    Sighing, Livingston said, "Look, I can''t control the bastard any more than you can. But¡ª


    "I can control him!" Philippe pointed at his rifle.


    "Don''t drop those wires!" Livingston yelled.


    "De rest of de men want to leave." Philippe breathlessly urged. "De workers are scared to death. Some


    of dem would rather die dan to keep on and run into him. You''ve seen him like dat before. It''s like


    something from out of a nightmare, isn''t it?"


    Livingston paused before carefully cing the dynamite back down onto the ground and exhaling. He


    then gave Philippe a hard stare in the eyes before standing, facing towards the weary workers and


    wiping the sweat from off his forehead.


    "Everyone can take a break for a moment!" He announced.


    At once, all the remaining workers dropped their pitchforks and gave Livingston their undivided


    attention.


    "Now, I realize that everyone is worn out. You''re in no shape to continue. Believe me, no one wants this


    ordeal to end more than I do. But we are all here for a specific purpose, and that is to be wealthy.


    But we all know that with great wealth,es great sacrifice. These caves are rife with heaven on


    earth. Not everyone in this country knows about them. But those of us that are collected here are the


    fortunate ones. I know that I and my partners have been hard on you. I''ve been more like an enforcer


    than a foreman. But it was for your own good. We''re closer now than we ever have been before. This


    rubbish about wanting to quit must be expelled from your minds." Livingston then took a breath and


    examined the crowd. "Where is T?"


    "She''s deep in de cave searching for de rocks you asked for." One of the male workers answered.


    "Oh, I see. Anyways, we must maintain our current stride. Only two more days and freedom will be¡ª


    "My God," the woman named T shrieked as she came flying around the dark edge of the cave.


    Everyone, including Livingston, all jumped in startled fear at what had the woman on the run. When


    they could see Arthur, who was clothed only in a pair of torn pants, chasing after her, Philippe and his


    two partners immediately raised their rifles while Livingston stood directly in front of them. Arthur''s


    fangs were exposed and his eyes werepletely white. He looked as if he was eithering down


    from a transformation or in the beginning stages. No matter, the frenzied appearance he wore was


    enough to have everyone in the cave ready to either attack him or turn and race away altogether.


    "Put your guns down!" Livingston screamed at the men.


    "But look at him!" Philippe shrieked back.


    Arthur was heaving in and out as if he had been running nonstop for hours. Drops of blood could be


    seen dripping from his bottom lip. Livingston didn''t know exactly what to make of the man or what he


    should even do with him for that matter.


    "Arthur, just calm down and let''s talk!" Livingston desperately pleaded.


    But Arthur appeared to be too wired to be contained. The man paced back and forth, frothing at the


    mouth like a raving animal captured inside a stall.


    "Listen to me, these men won''t shoot you! Do you understand? They won''t harm you!"


    But Arthur only snarled while lurking within his space that he seemingly dared anyone to invade. Every


    so often he would swipe and snarl at those before him with his hands.


    "Listen to me!" Livingston carefully and slowly advanced towards Arthur. "You are Arthur Bushard! You


    are the king of your kingdom! I need for you to hear me! I need Arthur Bushard to hear me!"


    It appeared the more Livingston spoke his name that was all the more Arthur seemed to focus upon the


    man. Their eyes locked. His pacing gradually began to cease with the passing moments.


    "I need Arthur to hear me." Livingston spoke more calmly. "Now...don''t you recall Demarae once saying


    that too much changing can affect the mind?"


    Arthur stood for a full five seconds before he hissed in a daze, "Demarae,"


    "Yes, yes, your little brother. We still need you. What you''re doing out there in the town, it can''t


    continue. It''s t out cock-eyed. Just yesterday Philippe and the boys had to chase off some of the city


    dwellers because they''reing towards these mountains to escape you."


    Arthur suddenly stopped altogether and studied Livingston endlessly. Livingston''s own heart wouldn''t


    stop thumping. He was ustomed to the sight of Arthur''s alter-ego, but the man''s behavior at that


    point was staggering even for his taste.


    "We need to keep the body count down. Look all around you, there''s ten million American dors'' worth


    of diamonds inside this one region of the cave. It''s because of you and your family that we were able to


    find it. In two days, I''m gonna dynamite this section and we''ll all be rich. I can go back home, these


    people can go about their lives, and you can rule this ind for as long as you choose. But we need


    you to remain stable. No more killings. No more madness."


    It was dead silent inside the cave. Philippe and his partners had their guns pointed straight at Arthur,


    ready to make a pull of the trigger at any second. The workers all held their breaths; some even turned


    their heads in fear of Arthur''s face. It was only Livingston that dared to move closer to the man until he


    was within a breath''s range of him.


    "We...need...you." Livingston uttered so seriously into Arthur''s face. "Just two more days."


    Arthur''s erratic breathing soon came to a halt as he dropped his hands to the side and mumbled so


    miserably, "Demarae gone. Dey all gone."


    Livingston shook his head and replied, "Yes...they''re all gone."


    Arthur then looked past Livingston and at the workers and guards who were still pointing their guns at


    him before he began to march towards them on his way out of the cave altogether.


    "It shall rain non-stop for de next two days." His voice echoed as he ventured out into the elements.


    From N?velDrama.Org.


    Just like that, everyone breathed a sigh of excruciating relief. The men lowered their weapons and the


    workers all unhinged themselves from one another before gradually picking up their utensils.


    But it was Livingston who remained stuck in ce. It''s wasn''t that he was still terrified, at least not of


    Arthur, but he could see his dreams phase in and out right before his eyes. Behind him on the ground


    was about twenty-two pounds of dynamite ready at any given moment to be utilized. Suddenly,


    however, its immensity didn''t seem to hold too much weight for him.


    Livingston ever so slowly dragged his body towards the cave''s entrance and out into the rainy


    afternoon where he spotted Arthur seated inside the passenger side of his truck. He couldn''t quite see


    just what the man was doing inside, but he could tell just from his distance that he wasn''t exactly


    meditating. Livingston nced up at the rainy sky before dropping his shoulders and meandering as


    carefully as he could towards the truck. With every step he made he could see Arthur''s head pointed


    downwards, which really didn''t bode very well with his already startled state of mind.


    Livingston approached the driver''s side door and peered inside through the closed window before he


    opened the door and cautiously climbed inside. He looked over at Arthur who was wheezing in and out


    as though he were gasping for oxygen.


    "Did you know dat every time I turn dat it hurts?" Arthur asked with a hint of a snarl in his voice.


    Livingston wanted so badly to see the man''s face, but no matter what Arthur would not lift his head.


    "No...I wasn''t aware of that." Livingston replied. "But then again, I never imagined it was a pleasurable


    sensation either."


    Right then, Arthur raised his head. Livingston saw only a pair of auburn eyes and a closed mouth with


    traces of bloodced around his lips. Livingston shut his eyes in relief at that instant before cleaning the


    sweat off of his forehead.


    "I ate her alive, mon." Arthur said while endlessly staring straight ahead out the window in a trance-like


    state. "I ate my own sister to death."


    "I know how much she meant to you."


    Arthur just pitifully sniggered and said, "She and I failed in dat country. We found trouble in America.


    "That''s where it usuallyes from." Livingston smirked. "We all have crosses to bear. Mine are the


    authorities chasing me down, and some annoying voice in my head while I sleep telling me toe to


    it. It makes me want to take a gun and blow my fucking brains out."


    Arthur took a hard, ring stare at Livingston before wiping his face with his right hand and remarking,


    "I must leave dis ce, but only for a moment."


    Livingston looked outside before turning back to Arthur and asking, "When will you be returning?"


    Arthur looked back out the window. "Sooner dan ya tink, mon."


    "We still need your help in there."


    Arthur then opened the door and got out. But before he could shut the door, he paused, looked straight


    at Livingston and said, "You are in de right ce. Keep digging dere. In two days I return, my master


    will be very well pleased wit me."


    Arthur shut the door and began back down the trail that led to the mountain''s edge. Livingston watched


    the man in his rearview mirror until he ultimately vanished out of sight.


    "Your master," he bitterly cringed at the mirror. "Tell your bloody master he''ll have to answer to me real


    soon."

 Chapter 31

    Chapter 31


    Cameras shed and blew up all around her. Men and women were screaming like the world was


    coming to a frightening end. It was freezing cold outside that dark night, but with all the blood, chaos


    and sweat flowing like a raging river, her body felt as if it were boiling hot. Red and blue lights glowed


    from left to right as her body was being carried out of the house on a gurney. She could see multiple


    police officers swarming about in and out of her small home.


    "My baby," she desperately uttered while trying not to choke on her own blood.


    Out of the corner of her good eye she could spot Linus Bruin being escorted out of the house by two


    officers like he was a helpless invalid. His disturbed face was pointed to the snowy ground while both of


    his hands shook so violently.


    "What happened?" She heard some woman scream out.


    "Make sure you have the I.V. unit prepped!" One of the medics frantically ordered as he opened the


    doors to the back of the waiting ambnce.


    Right before they could lift her gurney into the ambnce, what looked to be a covered gurney being


    carted out of the front door of her house came into eyeshot, as well as the despondent father of the


    dead individual who was steadily marching behind it. The battered and bloody young woman watched


    in her limited eyesight thete one''s gurney being hoisted up and into another ambnce that was


    parked just a few feet down the sidewalk from where she was. She wanted to close her eyes, but she


    couldn''t help but to keep them open. She wanted to see if anything further would happen. Would the


    corpse suddenly rise and explode out of the ambnce to wreak even more destruction? After all, it


    was a supernatural beast; nearly anything was possible at that point.


    She watched and watched as the ambnce pulled away, without ring its sirens. The woman then


    shut her eyes and allowed all the noise and anarchy from outside to die off inside her head.


    "I''m so sorry...Isaac." Her mouth tried to mutter.


    "Try not to speak." One of the medics whispered into her ear.


    She could hear the doors behind her head m shut as the sirens began to shriek out in the night and


    the vehicle stuttered into motion. She couldn''t see just how many medics were attending to her; all her


    conscience mind could register was a bunch of men milling about working feverishly to keep her as


    comfortable as possible.


    "She''s chocking on her blood!" One medic hollered. "Give me the tube!"


    "It''s not cold anymore." She said inside her head. "I can''t feel the cold anymore."


    "Get your eyes open, child." A woman''s voice suddenly and delicately spoke from out of nowhere.


    At once, Lyte''s wavering attention perked right up. "Mama, am I awake?" She slurred.


    "Just open your eyes." The woman''s voice continued.


    As though she were struggling to lift a ton, Lyte fought to crack open one eyelid. She tried with all


    her might to raise her right arm, but her energy was exhausted.


    "I don''t wanna dream anymore, mom."


    Once again, Lyte attempted to open her eyes. Gradually, her swollen eyes opened to see a soft,


    dim light to her immediate left. Right away Lyte could sense that it was fire. The crackling and


    popping of the embers felt as if they could singe her skin at any moment. Immediately she tried to roll


    over, only to have her own body hold her in ce. She was sore from head to toe.


    "Just lie still, child." The same soothing voice from before uttered.


    But Lyte was no longer in a consoling frame of mind. The more she couldn''t move only reminded


    her of her stint at Hollis Estates and the paralysis she endured. She fought all the more until her body


    came only inches from the fire.


    "Be careful!" The voice shrieked out.


    Holding her heaving chest, Lyte gawked all around her softly lit surroundings before catching sight


    of Cusha who was in the Indian-style position on the floor in front of her.


    Lyte continued to curiously eye her environment which consisted of four bamboo walls, a boiling


    pot underneath a fire, a table with two chairs attached and arge butcher knife perched on a wall


    behind her. In another corner of the hut sat a lonely little ck rag doll that was perched up against the


    wall like it was a permanent fixture there. Cusha just sat and studied the overwrought girl as if Lyte


    had justnded on the all of the sudden.


    Holding the back of her severely aching head, Lyte settled for a moment before taking a hard look


    at Cusha and asking, "What...what is this?"


    "You are fine for now." She replied in a more simplified English.


    Just then, out of sheer fatigue, Lyte''s body copsed to the floor. She then backed up as far away


    from the woman as possible before she bumped into the wall behind her. All she could do was sit and


    ponder on the woman with stunned oddness, as to say she couldn''t even believe that she was there


    before her at all.


    "I apologize for hitting you so hard back there." Cusha said. "But it was the only way to bring you down,


    girl."


    Rubbing against her bandaged throat, Lyte would not take her eyes off of the woman.


    "Where...what is this," she bitterly muttered.


    Cusha stared right back at Lyte and replied, "You''re in a safe ce for now."


    Lyte looked all over the small enclosure. "But...Arthur." She anxiously remarked.


    Cusha pressed her lips together before saying, "I saw that man for the very first time some months


    ago."


    "So you know him?"


    Cusha dropped her head. "You should go back home, child."


    "I can''t go home knowing that fucker is still out there!" Lyte began to weep. "He''ll juste to


    Cypress and kill me and my entire family!"


    "Is that why you came all the way down here, to kill him?"


    "Why else," Lyte shrugged.


    "And what do you think will happen when you do kill him? You think all your problems will just vanish


    away like smoke?"


    Lyte sat and sulked. The questions that Cusha was handing her just happened to be the same


    inquiries she would ask herself from time to time.


    "I can''t go home." Lyte''s body started to shake.


    The two women looked at each other endlessly while the rain outside the hut poured harder and more


    intensely.


    "What do you know about him? Arthur, I mean."


    Cusha lifted her head to the ceiling. "I saw him many months ago. He came inside the house, took the


    child away. I remember the man''s eyes."


    "He took your child, too?" Lyte awkwardly replied. "The bastard took mine, but I¡ª


    Every muscle inside of Lyte''s body came to aplete standstill just then. She took her hand off of


    her throat as her eyes bulged forward at the old woman.


    "I remember the man''s eyes. His eyes, his sister''s. The other one, too." Cusha kept on. "They just


    came and took the boy. But thank God, you got him back." She then smiled at Lyte.


    Lyte couldn''t budge even if she wanted to. Her bottom lip hung open while her heart skipped beats.


    "Just like back then, you''re mind isn''t in the right ce, girl. You''vee all the way down here to kill,


    but your heart isn''t in to it. Go home and curl up in your bed with your old nket."


    "Gran...grandma," Lyte''s voice and stomach plunged.


    Cusha smiled so kindly that Lyte, for a tiny glimpse, could actually see traces of her grandmother


    inside the woman''s face. But the glimpse was merely just that, before the traces vanished and Cusha''s


    face returned.


    Lyte only broke down and cried even more. "I...I did terrible things to him. That''s why this is


    happening!" Lyte blurted out.


    "No, child, you''re not to me yourself for this."


    "But I didn''t even go to his funeral."


    "This is not about what you or Isaac did. This is about getting out and away from this here ce


    forever."


    "But I can''t!" Lyte said out loud. "You''ve seen him; you know what he''s like! I can''t even believe I''m


    sitting here and talking to you! For all I know, you could be just another demon or something! You could


    be holding me here while hees for me!"


    "If that were the case, then you''d be dead by now." Cusha said in a firm tone.


    Lyte remained frozen on the floor while continuing to examine the woman in front of her. "This...this


    can''t be my life." She whimpered. "I never imagined this would be my life. If I go home, what will


    happen to Arthur? Won''t he juste up to Ohio and start this shit all over again?"


    From N?velDrama.Org.


    Right then, the door to the bamboo hut opened. Lyte held herself in ce and watched in stunned


    awe as a small figure trotted their way inside. The individual was wearing a ck parka over their body.


    In the person''s right hand was a bag that they promptly mmed onto the table before walking back


    and shutting the door.


    "Who...who," Lyte stammered.


    The person slipped off their parka and hung it onto the wall in front of the butcher knife. It was an older


    woman who was clothed in a raggedy, wet, orange dress and ck sandals. Her ropey, grey hair was


    wet as well; it dropped down into her face making it difficult for Lyte to make her out clearly.


    "I see de girl is finally awake." The woman spoke up as she went over and attended to the soaking bag


    on the table.


    "God be praised, she is." Cusha responded.


    Lyte watched carefully as the woman opened the sack and began taking out one sweet potato


    after another.


    "I take it your walk was fruitful?" Cusha asked.


    The olddy giggled before turning around and lifting her soaking hair to reveal a pair of white eyes.


    Lyte immediately jumped backwards in fear only to have Cusha hold her.


    "No, no, child, look deeper." She whispered into Lyte''s ears.


    Lyte stared carefully at the woman to notice that her eyes had a milky film covering them. At that,


    Lyte gradually began to calm down.


    "Don''t be startled, girl, everyone do dat when dey see me for de first time."


    Lyte soon released herself from Cusha''s hold before scooting across the floor towards the fire.


    "I take it you tell her about yourself?" The olddy motioned to Cusha.


    Cusha nodded her head and said, "Yes...she knows me now."


    "Good, it no good keep tings from loved ones."


    Lyte nced back at Cusha for a second before looking back up at the olddy who began


    chopping up the potatoes with a small knife.


    "This is little Senada." Cusha said. "Born way back in 1879."


    Lyte intently watched as the blind woman cut and ced the potatoes into the boiling cauldron


    before moving about the hut. If she hadn''t known any better she would have sworn Senada was


    sighted the whole time.


    "Ya stay here, eat some, den ya go home." Senada began stirring the pot.


    Dropping her head, Lyte sighed, "Everyone wants me to go home. I''ve had people try to stab me.


    I''ve been beaten up and drowned. How can I possibly go home knowing that he''s still out there? Do


    either of you have any clue as to how to kill him? Because I can''t imagine going through my life


    knowing that he''s running around hunting me and my son down."


    Both Cusha and Senada remained in ce and studied the young woman before them with a


    thoughtful gloom in their eyes.


    Lyte sulked inside her own depravity that felt so cold even sitting beside the crackling fire. "I


    missed my baby''s birthday back in August." Lytemented. "I can''t write anymore. For the first few


    months, the nightmares were few and far between, now...now, every time I close my eyes I see those


    things. One moment I''m in school, the next thing I know, I''m sitting here with some blinddy and my


    dead grandmother."


    "How do you know I''m your grandmother?"


    Lyte gazed at the woman in the most shocked way imaginable before saying, "After all that I''ve


    been through these past few months, how can I deny anything anymore?" She then wiped the sweat


    from off of her face and exhaled, "The things you said about what went down back at mom and dad''s


    house. The nket you made me. It all makes perfect sense. Even the car ride from jail."


    "Nuting makes much sense, little girl." Senada said as she sprinkled salt into the boiling pot. "Ya tink


    tings are okay one moment, den de next, ya wake up and find out dat dere''s no such a ting as dreams."


    Lyte looked at the old woman as she shuffled busily around the pot like she was steadily preparing


    a family sized feast.


    "I just want this all to end." Lyte tossed her head backwards.


    "All wrongs will be right again, little girl." Cusha said.


    "When," Lyte sat back up. "ording to Cloyse, this shit has been going on for years!"


    "Who now," Senada turned around.


    Rolling her eyes, Lyte repeated, "Cloyse. He was a guy I once knew. He said that he was from


    Jamaica, and that he knew these things. He said¡ª


    "Be ya quiet now, child." Senada put her right hand out as she began to wander about the hut in a


    paranoid fashion.


    Both Lyte and Cusha sat and watched the woman carry on before she came to aplete stop at


    the wall where her wet parka was resting.


    "Dat''s why ya brought her here." Senada uttered in a subtle wonder. "She''s seen dem before."


    Cusha only lowered her head and grinned a bit before looking back up at Senada and saying, "Only


    God knows."


    Senada sniggered and replied, "God? God left us a long time ago."


    Lyte struggled to get to her feet. The second she stood up she nearly fell right back down. Her


    body was in too much pain to maintain a proper bnce, but that didn''t stop her from attempting to


    stumble over to the old woman and stand right next to her.


    "Did you know Cloyse?"


    Senada''s blind eyes managed to connect with Lyte''s. "Ya need to go home, child." She whispered.


    "Quit telling me that!" Lyte stomped her foot.


    "I tell ya what I won tell ya!" Senada fired back before taking her parka, slipping it back onto her feeble


    body and marching out the door.


    Lyte looked back at Cusha in disbelief. Cusha only sat and shooed her along as to say she wanted


    her to chase after the old woman. Lyte rushed out the door and into the pouring afternoon rain into


    the bamboo forest. She followed Senada down a trail that eventually led to a small pig pen. There,


    Senada, with a long stick, poked and prodded at the three adult pigs that were either feeding on filth or


    wallowing about in the mud so carefree.


    "Why ya follow me, girl," Senada asked as she put down her stick and began hand feeding the pigs.


    "Because I want to know how to kill him," she yelled.


    "Ya can''t kill de devil; he too strong for people to kill."


    "But they can be killed! I watched Arthur kill his own sister!"


    Senada pulled her hand away from the pen and looked towards Lyte. "He kill his sister?"


    "Yes, yes he did."


    The olddy''s face took on a more confounded ze at that moment. "How ya still alive," she asked.


    "By God, I guess." Lyte shrugged. "But when I mentioned Cloyse, that''s when you got upset. I want


    to know why."


    Senada paced around the pig pen beforeing to a stop where one of the three pigs was giving her


    attention.


    "I knew de boy. I knew his family. I knew a lot of family at one time. We all live near here, as did de


    Bushards. We drove dem out of our vige because of der evil, but deye back again."


    "Cloyse told me that they came back as those things. He told me of a curse."


    "De curse is from hell, child. It not only eats ya alive, its drives ya to madness, too. Dose dat not be


    eaten, dey went crazy. It''s de kind of evil dat open de door to more evil. Ya see tings, ya hear tings, ya


    do tings dat not make any sense. Look what dey do to me." She pointed at her eyes. "I see wit dese for


    all my life. Den, one of de devils hit me across de back so hard dat me eyes not work no more. Some


    people even take der own lives just to escape."


    Lyte looked up at the sky and a throng of bats that were flying by before recalling a certain


    conversation from a time ago. She was almost afraid to carry on any further with her talk with Senada,


    but she feltpelled to keep on pushing forward; like watching the end of a scary movie even though


    she knew it would keep her from sleeping for nights on in.


    "It told me to ask...who it was." Lyte dared to utter.


    Senada looked up and shrugged her shoulders, "Ehh?"


    "I said, it told me to ask who it was! There was something else with them, a ghost or demon."


    At once, Senada came rushing back across the pen until she was face to face with Lyte. "Ya


    couldn''t see de ting?" She desperately yelled at Lyte.


    Shaking both from the coolness of the rain and fear, Lyte responded, "I heard it...inside of


    someone."


    "It is de evil, child."


    "Is it really Satan?"


    "No, no, ya know too much!" Senada started to walk away.


    Lyte managed to grab the woman and scream into her face, "I need to know everything! That son


    of a bitch is still out there! He could be going back to my home and killing my son for all I know! I''ve


    Senada began shivering inside of Lyte''s hands. Lyte couldn''t tell if the old woman''s face was


    just saturated with rain or if she was crying at that point.


    "Why ya do dis to me?" Senada wailed out.


    "Please...tell me!"


    "Hee to dis ind long ago! He have no face, just eyes! He not even have a body! All I see was


    his eyes! Dat''s all anyone see, his eyes! He from de devil, but he not de devil!"


    Gradually, Lyte released Senada and slowly backed away until she found herself leaning against


    the frail pen''s wooden railings.


    "Whatever dat boy tell ya, he tell ya only half-truth! I saw de ting wit me own eyes!"


    Lyte allowed the rain to soak all into her pores and through her brand new ck skirt. She didn''t


    want to recollect upon the orange eyes any further. She could feel one of the pigs sniff at her backside


    which actually started to tickle a bit.


    "Stories passed down from child to child always fall to pieces." Senada stated. "But to dose of us who


    saw it, it''s as though Satan reached out of hell and fucked every one of us."


    "But how do I stop the curse?" Lyte looked back at the woman.


    "I am still gued till dis very day!" She roared. "I still see me children and me husband being torn


    apart by de tings! I still hear me people singing in de forest! Dey have medicine dat can stop a person


    from moving! Dey give it to some of my people before eating dem!"


    "I had that used on me, too."


    "Itsts for days."


    "I broke out of it in under an hour." She defiantly remarked.


    Seneda''s face lit up at that moment. "It no matter, child. Dere''s a boat down by de end of de harbor


    near Post 9. It sits all alone until someone uses it for fishing. Take it to de other side of de bay. Dere,


    you''ll find de harbor master. Tell ''em to take you to de airport. Get out now, child. He will kill you, and


    you will be tormented forever...just like de rest of us."


    Senada turned and started back up the trail that led towards her hut. All alone, Lyte remained


    against the pen''s railings with her bruised and wet arms folded. Her body wanted to copse right there


    on the muddy ground, but she held stiff long enough to watch a few more bats scale the sky above her.


    "I don''t want it to rain anymore, God." Her voice muttered so pitifully.


    Lyte was bing so wet and soggy that even her own hair was beginning to drop down into her


    eyes, causing what little afternoon light there was still left to dissipate with the passage of time. The


    very instant the stench from the pig pen began to be overwhelming she unhinged herself and


    limped back up the trail until she came face to face with the hut. Lyte opened the door to find


    Cusha still seated on the floor with aposed frown on her face, while Senada was attending to the


    boiling potatoes. She shut the door behind her and went straight for Cusha, dripping rain water all onto


    the floor along the way.


    "Grandma," Lyte caught herself. "Cusha...please tell me how to kill him." She urgently pleaded into


    the woman''s face.


    But Cusha only sat and caressed the youngdy''s bruised face with such kind fondness while smiling,


    "Go home, sweet child. There''s nothing here for you. Be gone before you are swallowed whole."


    Lyte''s entire body shuddered as she backed away and stood in the middle of the floor. She steadily


    watched the two old women around her, who appearedpletely oblivious to the situation, carry on


    as if their own destinies were already set in stone. Lyte dropped her abused body down into one of


    the chairs at the table andid her head down onto the hard wood. Her drowsy eyes just happened to


    connect with the fire that was zing beside her on the floor. Its mes flickered and shed to and fro


    inside her eyes like a kaleidoscope right before she eventually shut her eyes altogether.


    "Don''t rest too long, child...he''ll be here soon enough." Cusha''s voice spoke out.


    But Lyte was already drifting off and away.

 Chapter 32

    Chapter 32


    It was the ckest night. The rain wasing down, but not in such torrential spurts. Beyond midnight


    it had dissipated into a simple, quiet sprinkle that actually felt rxing to one''s skin. Livingston, with his


    ck parka wrapped around his upper body, came out of the mouth of the cave while in the midst of


    lighting a cigarette. The pungent aroma of burning Ganga hung in the air while the sounds of bats''


    wings pping in the night could be heard nearby.


    The worn man, with his pistol secured in his right pocket, came to the very edge of the mountain and


    stood. He looked down into the ck, cavernous bottom and listened at the various nighttime creatures


    that dwelt from within.


    "Fucking disgusting country," he spat down the mountain with such spiteful vigor.


    "Say dere." A voice sounded out all of the sudden.


    Livingston wasn''t even startled. He just turned around to see a tiny glow with a silhouette behind it


    drawing closer and closer to him. The nearer the silhouette approached the more the smell of Ganga


    reeked into Livingston''s nostrils causing him to blow the stench away.


    "You and the rest of them are gonna smoke your brains out with the shit." Livingston took a puff of his


    cigarette.


    Philippe, with his head underneath his own parka, approached Livingston and attempted to hand the


    man his pipe only to have Livingston refuse.


    "You know I don''t care for that." Livingston snickered.


    "It good for de lungs, mon," Philippe snorted.


    "We''ll see if you say that when you''re sixty, mate." Livingston smirked.


    The two men stood at the edge of the mountain and smoked on and on before Philippe spoke up and


    asked, "Where did he say he was going again?"


    "He never did say. But then again, do you really care?"


    Philippe just turned his head as a response. Livingston looked all around at the darkness before


    spitting again down the mountain.


    "Dat''s why me and de boys smoke dis, mon, so we won''t have to remember his face."


    Livingston looked over at the young man with the cockiest expression. "You and those other fes have


    been smoking that stuff since you were boys. Who do you think you''re fooling?"


    "Ya see him, he look like a demon!"


    "Yeah, I saw him. I''ve been seeing him for years now. I just can''t believe you all haven''t gotten used to


    it yet."


    Philippe shined hisntern all around before looking back at Livingston. "How ya get used to dat?" He


    pitched his pipe down the mountain''s edge. "All our lives we hear about dat family, but when ya see


    dem...it''s like someting from a¡ª


    "From a nightmare," Livingston cut in. "Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know."


    "Ya should have seen T. It took at least two hours to get her to calm down. She even talkin'' ''bout


    killing herself."


    "Well, it''s up to you and the others to make sure she holds off on that till after I dynamite that cave.


    Arthur said we''re digging in the right ce, so it shouldn''t be too much longer now."


    "What was dat?" Philippe spun around and stared into the nk darkness.


    Laughing out loud, Livingston asked, "What, are you shaking in your knickers?"


    Philippe kept shining hisntern in all directions while Livingston just stood and marveled at the man.


    "Believe me when I say, he won''t be back for a while."


    "Me and de others can''t wait to get outta here."


    "Yeah, you and me both," Livingston moaned.


    Philippe then tuned hisntern to Livingston''s face and queried, "I guess ya go back to Ennd when


    all of dis is done?"


    "Not likely. Not with Interpol still on my tail. Nope, Cuba is my next and final destination."


    "What''s in Cuba?"


    Livingston thought for a moment or two before answering. "That''s where a lot of those old Nazi


    bastards are hiding out. No extradition there. A person can thrive in peace."


    "It sounds like a nice ce."


    Livingston nced over at the young man. "To be honest, Mr. Castro and his regime aren''t too fond of


    people of your color. Come to think of it, they''re not too fond of mine either. But I think I have a better


    chance of blending in. Why not move to America? With the wealth your about to receive you''ll be a star


    up there. God knows there''s nothing here in this country for a person."


    "Yeah, mon, dere nuting here but de rain and de Bushards."


    Livingston turned to face Philippe at that second with a subtle grin on his face, as to say he was


    somewhat surprised at the man.


    "You should be used to them by now."


    Appearing taken off guard, Philippe replied, "How ya mean? Ya see what dey turn into."


    Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Livingston regretfully sighed, "Yeah...I''ve seen it."


    "We grew up hearing about dem." Philippe exined. "At first, we thought dem to be legends. Fairy


    tales."


    "That is until you saw them face to face."


    Philippe just shook his head up and down before saying, "But you know dem well, Livingston. You


    know dem very well."


    Livingston took his burned out cigarette and tossed it down the mountain before snorting and replying,


    "The first time I met them, they appeared just like your average inder. But then again, there was


    always something off about the five of them. Then of course, I got the misfortune of seeing them


    change. Blimey, that''s something a person never, ever forgets. You don''t just erase something like that


    out of your brain."


    "I always imagined how it would feel to be like dem."


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Sniggering, Livingston asked, "What, you actually want to be like that?"


    "No, mon!" Philippe jumped back. "I just can''t still believe dat it happens."


    "A person has to gopletely mad to be that way. Don''t get me wrong, I''m a killer myself. I won''t


    deny that. But turning into one of those takes a special kind of sickness in the mind."


    "I just can''t believe dat American girl came all de way here to hunt him down."


    "That little guttersnipe had balls of steel, if you ask me. I can''t even stand to be around Arthur for more


    than a minute, and there she was,ing all the way here to kill him. God rest her soul."


    Philippe then looked straight at Livingston and lowered hisntern to where only his ck silhouette


    was visible.


    "I know all about de young ones, but no one ever knew about der parents."


    Livingston continued to stare out at the great expanse that was the dark mountain before him and said,


    "I can''t say that I knew the mother of the n. But I was familiar with the father. He was the first one I


    met." Livingston then began to snicker. "That man made my father look like a fucking saint the way he


    treated his brood. He was the only man that I''ve ever seen Arthur kowtow to. I haven''t seen or heard


    from the father since I got back here, so I''m assuming that somehow he''s either moved on, or he''s


    dead. But that was a very wicked man."


    "I hear over dese past few months dat he kill de remainder of dat vige by de beach all by himself.


    But...dat was only a rumor."


    Livingston stood and pondered for a few brief seconds before exhaling, "Yes...a very wicked man


    indeed. That''s probably why that documentary crew was here, to film his handiwork."


    "It only makes you wonder just what else exists in dis world of ours."


    Livingston then turned to Philippe and put his hand on his right shoulder. "You''re a good hand, my


    friend. I''m going to miss you when we all leave."


    Smiling in the darkness, Philippe responded, "We''ve aged before our time."


    "Yes, yes we have." Livingston dropped his head.


    Philippe then began back for the cave with his trustyntern leading the way ahead of him. Meanwhile,


    Livingston remained absolutely still in the mmy darkness of the night.


    "And those eyes," he muttered to himself in a far off tone. "Those eyes that make one''s soul melt.


    Soon...I''ll never see your eyes again, beast."

 Chapter 33

    Chapter 33


    "You got a visitor, Mercer!" Arge, white, male jail guard announced as he unlocked the cell door.


    Charles sat up drowsy and disoriented on his little bed and watched as Audra came inside the cell. The


    man had been awake for the past several hours, but his energy had been left behind in the shelter. His


    lethargic eyes looked on as Audra, who was wearing only her long, grey wool coat, meekly came inside


    and stood before him. Already the man could feel the weight of her worried stare bear down upon him


    like heat vision. Charles wiped his messy face before taking a huge breath and cing his hands on


    his knees as to say he was preparing for a lesson.


    Audra stood for a moment or two before sitting down beside the man. At first her face was down to the


    floor, appearing as if she were too shy to speak. Down the hallway could be heard other cell doors


    either opening or shutting, along with various men talking out loud or cursing.


    Audra looked up and out the cell door before turning her head to Charles. "They mentioned that you


    would be out of here tomorrow." She said to Charles'' despondent face.


    Charles just nodded before clearing his throat and muttering, "Yep, just a few more hours."


    Audra turned away for a second before looking back at the man with a tense re on her face. "Why


    did you go to that ce, Charles?"


    Charles'' stone face wouldn''t turn from the bars in front of him. It was as though he were transfixed


    upon their cold and lifeless alloy.


    "It''s like I told you, something is hunting me down." His scratchy voice uttered.


    "And you figured that same something was at the shelter?"


    Nodding again, Charles replied, "Yes. To be truthful, I really don''t know what I saw or felt back there,


    but I do know that...that evil is definitely real."


    Bing agitated, Audra remarked, "Charles... I don''t understand any of this. If someone is hunting


    you down then you should have called the police."


    "Woman, this goes so far beyond a person." Charles'' deep voice dropped. "I don''t know what my son


    was in to, but I now realize that nothing good came of it."


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Audra sat and studied Charles for the longest time before stating, "When I was a little girl. I couldn''t


    have been no more than six or seven. Me, my mother, father and three brothers and sisters lived with


    my grandparents on this old farm. For the first couple of years there everything was just fine. Then, the


    neighbors across the valley were beaten to death by some nsmen who didn''t like them. That old


    house of theirs went unsold for the longest time. Well, me and my siblings, as hardheaded as we were,


    would go over to that old house to be nosey and y around. One day, however, we heard something


    walking about on the top floor. We kids were scared but curious all the same. So we all went upstairs,


    and in this one room, we see thedy that used to live there lying in a bed all by herself crying. Me and


    my siblings were terrified at first, but for the most amazing reason we just couldn''t run away. All we


    could do was stand there at that doorway and listen to that woman cry like a baby. Needless to say, we


    never went back to that old house again after that day. We didn''t even tell anyone about what we saw


    over there. Till this day I don''t know if what we even saw was real or all in our minds. But that moment


    never left my soul after all these years. So much pain and suffering that a person can''t even cross over


    to the next world. They just stay stuck here, not knowing if their alive or dead."


    A tear started to form and dribble down Charles'' right eye at that instant as he listened to Audra and


    endlessly stared at the bars ahead.


    "This is one nasty world we live in." He murmured so sadly while balling up his fists.


    "Yes it is." Audra pitifully added. "But ain''t none of us walking in this nasty world all alone. They said


    that all you have to do is pay a fine and they''ll drop the charges. Personally, I think they went easy on


    you because of your handicap." Audra patted Charles'' leg. "Thank the good Lord it came in handy."


    She then smirked at him.


    Nodding his head, Charles said, "I''ll pay the fine. Then I''lle home, pack my things...and be on my


    way."


    Audra''s face instantly went pale right then. Her hands started to shake as she reared back. "And just


    where are you going?" She held her breath.


    "Somewhere far from here," he kept his eyes on the bars.


    Shaking her head in both dismay and confusion, Audra said, "Charles, whatever you think is happening


    to you, it can be managed. I''ve known you now for four months, and in those months you have to be


    one of the most down to earth people I''ve ever known. Now, I believe that something is tormenting you,


    but I find it hard to believe that it''s causing you to run away."


    Charles couldn''t turn to look at her. For that matter, he couldn''t turn or move at all. It was almost as if


    he were a child be scolded for a wrongdoing.


    "After what I experienced inside that shelter, as well as the past few months, thest thing I ever want


    is to endanger the lives of others. Especially those I care the most about. I''ll just pack my belongings


    and be on my way somewhere. And that''s all I have to say...Mrs. Watson."


    The shaking of Audra''s hands suddenly ceased as the color came back to her face. There remained


    only stillness in her eyes that stared at Charles for at least a full minute before she finally got up and


    went straight for the bars that Charles had been studying ever since she first arrived.


    "I''m ready!" Audra called out.


    At once, the guard came and unlocked the cage before sliding open the door to allow the woman to


    leave. The very instant the door shut again Charlesid back down onto his bed and peered up at the


    grimy ceiling. With the passage of time he soon started to forget what Audra even looked like. Even his


    own son''s face was bing a distant, faded memory the longer his eyes remained stuck to the


    ceiling that he felt was closing in on him.


    "We''reing for you, father." A creepy voice whispered inside of Charles'' head. "We''re on our way for


    you."


    The voice sounded so peaceful in its menace that had Charles not known any better it would have


    taken him right on to sleep.


    "You will end."


    Charles took his hands and looked at them in the strangest way before taking them both and covering


    his ears as tight as he could while rolling over in his bed.

 Chapter 34

    Chapter 34


    "Okay, okay, let me get this straight!" A middle-aged, bearded white manughed out loud with his beer


    in hand. "You''re telling us that...those things killed all those people this past summer?" The man then


    looked around the bar. "I know that we''re in the Halloween season, ghosts and ghouls and that bullshit,


    but c''mon, kid, even you know better than that!"


    At once, all five white men that were gathered around the pool table inside the saloon burst out in a


    humongous chorus ofughter at Jeremiah''s hearty story. Foreigner''s, ''Cold as Ice,'' was ying loudly


    on the jukebox, while behind the bar the bartender giggled and wiped down mugs. Jeremiah, with his


    ninth pitcher of beer in hand, swayed back and forth while wobbling about the pool table like a buffoon.


    He watched in bleary-eyed wonder as the men joked about him at his own sorry expense.


    "Look, look, I know it sounds oundish, but you gotta believe me." Jeremiah sat himself down at a


    nearby table. "I''ve seen all kinds of things that will make you believe."


    "Like what?" Another man stepped forward.


    "Like one of them inside my closet." Jeremiah slurred. "It killed my cat, for Christ''s sake!"


    Once again, the men allughed in unison while Jeremiah sipped away at his beer unfazed by all the


    joviality. All his fuzzy eyes could make out before him was one shape after another. The music was


    ring, but the words were unclear.


    Approaching Jeremiah, one of the bar dwellers said, "Look, kid, it seems to us that you''ve had one


    drink too many. Why don''t you go trick-or-treating and leave the boozing up to us adults?"


    Picking himself up from the table, Jeremiah said to the man, "You don''t believe me, but I have proof."


    Every person inside the ce all stood perfectly still and watched as the young man blundered over to


    the bar. He then happened to see a shot ss full of Vodka just sitting idly beside him. Jeremiah picked


    up the ss and gulped it down in one breath.


    "Okay, c''mon, Isaac, I''m right here, buddy!" Jeremiah boldly patted his chest.


    Everyone waited and gawked around before staring straight at Jeremiah like his body was melting right


    before their eyes.


    This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    "I''m right here, Isaac!" Jeremiah shouted. "C''mon, do your magic!"


    "Hey, kid, I think you''ve had enough for tonight." The bartender tapped Jeremiah on the shoulder.


    Jeremiah only snatched himself away from the man and began staggering around the pool table.


    "Where are you now?" He yelled. "You attacked me back in the field, and at my home! Come now and


    show these guys your true self!"


    Some of the men pointed at Jeremiah in disbelief while others just continued to shoot pool. All in all, to


    them, he was just another disorderly drunkard. In Jeremiah''s head, however, no matter how much


    laughter and joking was being handed out, the man couldn''t stop himself from wanting to pursue his


    side of the story, no matter how bizarre it may have sounded to the others. Even in his inebriated state,


    Jeremiah knew exactly what he was saying. Someone had to listen, no matter who it was. Even if it


    meant having to take a lengthy stay at an asylum himself, someone would have to hear him out.


    "Isaac, c''mon, you attacked me in the middle of nowhere! You made my wife up and leave me! You


    even killed my fucking cat! C''mon and show yourself to these assholes!" He screamed at the ceiling.


    "If you ask me, I''d say it was the government that killed all those people over the summer." Another


    drunken man uttered at his own table. "That peanut picking president of ours couldn''t count to a


    hundred, let alone run a country. 1980 can''t get here quick enough."


    "Forget that." One of the pool yers stepped towards Jeremiah. "Look, kid, why don''t you just go


    home and sleep it off?"


    Jeremiah stood and looked at the man''s facial features for a few moments before those same features


    began to morph right there before him. Fangs and white eyes.


    Jeremiah jumped back, nearly falling over one table after another. "See, see, I told you, he''s already


    here!" He wildly hollered.


    Soon enough, every man, including the bartender, all took on the same appearance, each one


    slobbering and growling like ravenous brutes at him.


    Out of fear, Jeremiah attempted to pick up a pool stick only to have it snatched right out of his hand by


    one of the barfly''s. "Please, somebody help me!" Jeremiah waved his hands in the air. "He''s in here!


    He''s taken you all!"


    But the demons all kept closing in on him. Some climbed on top of the pool table to get at him, while


    others shoved and tossed tables and chairs aside just to swipe at him. Jeremiah reached into his back


    pocket and pulled out a revolver before carelessly pointing it at the beasts. At once, the things all


    ceased their rampage and stood still.


    "Look, kid, just calm down, no one''s gonna hurt you!"


    "Just put the gun down and let''s talk!"


    "I''ll fucking shoot everyst one of you!" Jeremiah waved his gun around. "I knew it! I knew he was


    following me the whole time!" He ranted before pointing his gun at one particr man to his right.


    Before he knew it, however, something hard cracked Jeremiah over the back of the head sending him


    crashing into the pool table. Immediately, the five men all gathered to pummel Jeremiah within an inch


    of his life. They not only relieved him of his weapon but also of his jacket and sses before dragging


    his carcass out the backdoor. All Jeremiah could see was ssy darkness in front of him. Even the


    pain of the beating was a numb sense of awareness that held no weight with his conscience


    whatsoever. The men kept dragging him until they managed to hoist his body upwards and into a


    dumpster where they mmed the lid right on his head.


    Jeremiahid there inside the smelly, mouse infested unit wallowing about in not only filth but his own


    blood and mucus. He could hear the menughing and hooting before the mming of the backdoor


    ended it all. The music from inside the bar could still be heard ring clear out into the alley. Jeremiah


    shoved one mouse after another aside in an attempt to at least try and sit up. But just as soon as he


    was able to gain a stable foot, someone or something from outside the dumpster began stirring about.


    "Hello?" He incoherently babbled. "Can...can you get me outta here, please?"


    Just as soon as Jeremiah''s eyes were able to somewhat focus in the dark, he managed to see the


    dumpster''s lid open back up. He saw a pair of eyes, orange eyes to be exact, staring right back down


    at him.


    At first he figured he was still locked inside his dream state, but as soon as the eyes drew closer


    Jeremiah suddenly realized the weight of their force. The man slid backwards as far as he could before


    crawling into the corner and cowering.


    "Your final resting ce is nigh." The eerie voice whispered into the dumpster.


    "No!" Jeremiah screamed. "God, no," he wrestled about.


    At that moment, the dumpster''s steel lid mmed shut on top of Jeremiah once more, leaving him


    completely in the dark.


    "God, no," he yelled on and on.

 Chapter 35

    Chapter 35


    Her dreams were lucid and clear, like treading through crystal water on a bright, sunny day. Lyte


    could see for miles within the dark and quiet forest before she came to a waterfall that was heavily


    illuminated by the heavenly full moon. In all her unbridled nakedness she stepped onto the muddy


    walkway that led to the front of the falls and watched as the rushing water cascaded down in front of


    her. She, along with the falls was lit up by the moon''s potent energy. She looked down at her hands


    and legs that appeared so smooth and weightless. Every time she moved it felt as if she were levitating


    across the logs on the ground and in front of the glistening falls.


    Just as soon as she made it to the middle of the walkway, Lyte could hear something right behind


    her. It was sshing about in the water and snarling. She turned around in a calm manner to see the


    beast lurking before her. Its glowing eyes and salivating fangs shined in the moon''s light, and yet, as


    close as it drew, Lyte couldn''t find it within herself to be afraid. Instead of backing away she simply


    stood still in the middle of the walkway and watched with sullen eyes the creature stalk her down and


    growl as its hulking frame entered underneath the moonlight''s awesome radiance.


    "Shit!" Lyte abruptly awoke from her evening rest.


    In the darkness she gawked around to see Senada lying on a mat in the corner, while Cusha remained


    in her original Indian-Style position up against the wall fast asleep. Her head was lunged backwards to


    where all Lyte could see was the woman''s neck. Clearing the sweat away from her face and neck


    Lyte got up from off the floor and listened as the rain tapped against the hut''s grain. Still clothed in


    her skimpy, ck skirt the woman got up and stood perfectly still in the middle of the floor. She listened


    as the two old women snored away in the night, as though they had no worries at all. Lyte couldn''t


    help but to stare down at Cusha in refined wonder. Within the woman''s body was such a warm and


    familiar soul.


    Upon any other asion she would have been absolutely terrified of such an urrence, or at least


    seized the advantage of sitting down and chatting with her about fond childhood remembrances. But


    Lyte had no inkling of what was and was not real anymore. She cared no more about the past or


    the present, and as far as the future was concerned, what would happen would eventually happen. She


    knew that an end was drawing closer and closer with every passing day. It just ate away at her as to


    whose end would follow.


    Lyte couldn''t tell if she wanted to care or not about her own life at that point. Yes, there was still


    Isaiah, but her will was rapidly depleting. Every so often she would consider his life without her being in


    it, and how much better off he could possibly be. But then again, as usual, there was Arthur.


    Lyte sulked within herself before turning and heading for the door. She carefully opened it and


    closed it before walking out into the tepid rain that fell so softly upon body. Her bare feet squished and


    slipped across the muddy ground before she came to the trail that led downwards. It was getting to the


    point where she couldn''t tell whether it was Arthur or Isaac hunting her down. Just recalling Isaac''s face


    was haunting enough, but knowing that his spirit could still be lingering about in the world always


    seemed to make her bones ache.


    Ever since arriving in Jamaica she had managed to keep the memory of Isaac deep within the darkest


    corners of her mind. But she soon began to realize that there was always a cause and an effect. It was


    because of him that she was in the country at all. And then, there she was. No matter what, Lyte


    could not cease thinking about him. Even when she was with Jose the man''s image appeared in front


    of her. And just like Jose, Isaac was gone all over again.


    Before she knew it, Lyte had reached the very tip of the trail. There was no moon to speak of in the


    sky, nor were there any animals creeping about in the wilderness. It was just Lyte standing in front


    of a still and smelly pond. She turned back to see darkness behind her. The fact that she had even left


    the hut in the middle of the night didn''t seem to weight too fondly upon her. And yes, she was well


    aware that she was wide awake. Just as soon as the woman saw fit to reverse course and head back,


    within the water something began to bubble and stir. Unlike in her dreams, Lyte was afraid, which


    was why she started to back away from the pond. At that juncture it could have been almost anything


    creeping up out of the water.


    As she was about to turn and run away Lyte spotted a form slowly lurk from out of the pond. It was


    a person, but their face was too dark to see clearly. Lyte wanted to run but her legs had be


    immobile. Much like all of the ungodly happenings throughout the year, what wasing at her had to


    be witnessed with stunned eyes.


    The figure was soon followed by what looked to be a female. Her face as well was hidden by the veil of


    darkness. Soon, one by one there came more and more people out of the water, including little boys


    and girls. All of them were just lifelessly plodding through the forest in all their unbeknownst nakedness.


    Lyte''s entire body wasn''t even shaking. All she did was stand and watch as the wretched souls


    carried on as if she weren''t there and they had another destination to venture towards.


    How many of the souls were marching was unknown, but without any words spoken amongst them


    they all exited the water and in a single file formation entered into the immensity of the nighttime forest


    until they could no longer be seen by the naked eye.


    Just like that, Lyte''s ridged body simply dropped to the muddy ground where itidpletely


    unconscious.


    ***


    It was day or night; no one could tell any longer. Lyte, a muddy mess from head to toe, sat on the


    floor limp and lifeless in front of Cusha who was steadily braiding the young woman''s tough hair by


    candlelight inside the tiny hut. Lyte''s eyes were listless while her mouth endlessly hung open.


    Cusha was humming a tune, but inside Lyte''s stagnant mind was ck fog. Whatever melody was


    coming from the old woman was falling on deaf ears.


    "I''m seeing thest of my days in this world, dear." Cusha muttered as she twisted Lyte''s hair in a


    bunch. "Take the boat and go while you still can. I can''t be here much longer."


    But Lyte remained motionless on the floor, almost as if her bones had all but given up. Had it not


    been for Cusha pressing her knees against her back the youngdy would have copsedpletely


    to the floor.


    "Take me to the water. Take me to the water. Take me to the water to be baptized." Cusha gently sang


    above Lyte''s head. "Go to the water, child." She spoke. "Go to the water and leave this ce


    forevermore. God will be with you."


    "Isaac." Lyte''s voice emotionlessly whispered. "Isaac...Isaac."


    The woman''s inert eyes had no focus or attention left inside of them. They were just there inside their


    respective sockets, along with the remainder of her body that hung like dead flesh waiting to be buried.


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    ***


    The rain sputtered down upon the forest as Cusha, from just a few feet back, watched with woeful eyes


    Lyte on both knees in front of the pig pen. The young, broken woman had been there for hours,


    getting wet and blindly fiddling with the wandering swine that only enjoyed the frivolity of their muddy


    terrain.


    Cusha stood in ce while getting soggier with every passing second. Lyte appeared like a wet


    rodent at that stage. Her hair that Cusha had braided was falling apart, and her already tattered clothes


    were bing mere shreds that just happened to barely be covering only private parts; the remaining


    portions of her body, like arms, legs and her feet werepletely exposed to the elements. The


    woman was progressively bing a part of the grim surroundings she had immersed herself in for


    the past few months.


    Cusha listened closely as Lyte muttered little babblings at the pigs, namely at one that she was


    petting so gently and giving all the attention in the world to. She couldn''t hear exactly what she was


    saying to the animals, but Cusha could tell that her words, though incoherent, were soothing, as if she


    were consoling a child of sorts. Cusha observed a little bit longer before eventually turning and heading


    back up the trail that led to Senada''s hut. Even before she could make it to the front door Senada came


    out of the hut with herrge butcher knife in hand and parka over her head.


    With her face pointed towards the trail, Senada said, "I take it ya girl still out dere?"


    Not bothering to wipe her wet face dry, Cusha mournfully replied, "Yes...she is."


    Senada''s eyes stared off at the distance before she turned towards Cusha''s direction. "You''vee a


    mighty long way to see your child. I could sense your long distance ever since you first arrived at me


    doorstep."


    Cusha turned to the old woman and simply smirked, "My distance is never too far. I was merely


    awakened, and I followed."


    Senada tightened her parka around her frail old head before saying, "How long before she meets you


    in eternity?


    Cusha wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold and sighed, "She hasn''t eaten in days."


    Senada only dropped her head and took a step out into the rain. "Dis forest speaks every single night.


    My people left me and traveled on de other evening. Dey left me behind." She then poked her head


    from out of her parka. "I can still smell dem in de air." She continued. "You can smell de air in dis forest,


    it still stinks. Dey eat everyting in sight; dey witches and sorcerers." Senada then drew close to Cusha.


    "Tell me...do dey speak of my people in eternity? Of my sons," she whispered.


    Cusha didn''t even bother to respond, she just stared off back down the trail for as far as her eyes would


    allow.


    "I figure so." Senada relented as she carried on out into the rain. "Tell de girl dat her hours are growing


    faint! As are mine!"


    Cusha watched as Senada withdrew from her presence and shuffled down another path within the


    forest before vanishing into the bushes. She then turned back to the trail. She couldn''t see Lyte


    from where she was standing, but she knew good and well that the woman hadn''t moved in hours. And


    the remaining hours were racing by at a lighting pace.


    "You are a good man, Isaac." Cusha looked down at the soaked ground. "But...it is time."

 Chapter 36

    Chapter 36


    Devon House


    29 Hope Road, Kingston, Jamaica


    The afternoon was muggy and sticky. The sun was trying its best to peek through the thick, rolling


    clouds, but its best efforts were for naught as the clouds were entirely too overwhelming. The smell of


    rain in the air hung ever so thick to where a person could swear they felt wetness drop from the sky


    even if it wasn''t at all. The grass that Arthur was casually walking across was wet and slick. The


    wetness managed to cling to the bottom of his bell-bottomed brown dress pants. His matching brown


    polyester jacket and vest clung to his chest which only caused the man to undo the top two buttons on


    his ck silk shirt to where his chest hairs were showing.


    Where Arthur was marching to was a prestigious looking building which sat directly in the middle of a


    ny-nine acre stretch ofnd. The front courtyard was surrounded by a lovely menagerie of tall palm


    trees and luxurious flowers. Yes, there was a driveway that led to the mansion, but it was filled with


    fancy cars and limousines that made it nearly impossible for a person to make it through. Trekking


    across the grass was Arthur''s only andst resort. The two floor mansion he was walking towards was


    glowing white from front to back. Flowing green nts hungvishly on the front porch making it appear


    as if they were growing from out of the house itself.


    The second Arthur ascended the pearly white stairs that led to the front door he suddenly stopped dead


    in his tracks to take notice of his shaking right hand. The man stared down at the appendage in


    subdued wonder, trying to figure out what in the world was causing it to vibrate so violently and out of


    nowhere. He himself was calm, but there was something uncanny about his pulsating right hand, like it


    was aware of something he wasn''t.


    Arthur slipped his hand into his pants pocket before opening the door and allowing himself inside the


    stately manor. Before he could even take two steps inside the aromas of food seized his nose in such a


    pleasant way that the man desired a bite more than anything else going forward. He strolled across the


    parquet flooring, clip-clopping like a horse in his brown dress shoes. Above his head was a sparkling


    chandelier, while the splendidly decorated ceilings reminded him of something from a fairytale story.


    From a nearby room he could hear a parakeet squawk and carry on as if it were under attack, while the


    dogs outside began barking in the most insane manner.


    Arthur just couldn''t seem to take his eyes off of the environment that he found himself immersed in. For


    him it was like taking a step outside of his own body. No, he wasn''t bedazzled by it all, but just the fact


    that he was visiting the ce for the very first time seemed to bring about a swell of pride to his


    existence. Even the pristine smell of the mansion itself seemed to settle his overactive stomach. From


    one hallway to another were ck maids and butlers carrying silver tters of food and expensive


    alcohol from room to room. The chattering''s of people caused Arthur to turn from left to right until he


    was able to locate the direction of themotion on the first floor. There was a wide open room to his


    immediate right which was guarded by two well dressed,rge ck men. Just before he could reach


    the room one of the men extended his right hand in a halting fashion.


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    "You go no further, mon." He said in aposed fashion as if he had everything under control.


    Arthur stood before both men at that moment and simply stared them down. He looked at one and then


    the other before taking a very slight step backwards and peering into their very eyes with his own


    piercing, hazel-eyed re. Both of the men stood with conceited looks on their faces for a few


    moments before the appearance on their individual mugs suddenly took on a more worried, if not


    dismayed manifestation. They both looked as if all the bravado they once possessed had all but been


    sucked right out of them within a matter of seconds. Utter hopelessness seemed to engulf their very


    beings. Then, like two men who had just lost the will to live, they stepped aside and allowed Arthur to


    stroll right into therge dining room where a gathering of distinguished men and one woman were


    already seated and eating.


    They all carried on for a minute or so before finally realizing that something was out of ce. Arthur,


    who was steadily and patiently standing beside a portrait of Michael Manley on the wall, examined all


    thirteen men and one woman seated at the expansive dining table staring right back at him with the


    most dumbfounded expressions on their faces.


    "See here now, who ya be?" One older ck man stood up.


    Continuing to walk inside, Arthur smiled and announced, "I be none other dan Arthur Bushard."


    "How did you get past the guards?" Another ck man asked.


    "Your guards were very generous to me."


    "You cannot be in here!" An older, British speaking white man stood up and approached Arthur.


    "But you do not know my business here." Arthur inly replied.


    "Well then, be on with your business." The white man impatiently insisted.


    "As I stated before, my name is Arthur Bushard. I originate from Negril, and I am very interested in


    running for Parliament."


    At once, every person in the room all burst out inughter, all but Arthur, who remained stationery in the


    middle of the floor with a gracious smile still stuck to his face.


    "What, do you think you can just walk in here and run for Parliament, mon?" Another ck man said


    from the table. "It''s not that easy."


    Casually walking past the white man, Arthur remarked, "I assure each and every one of you dat my


    business is very serious."


    "So is ours, young man," the white man obstinatelymented. "We are here having a nice, quiet


    lunch."


    "And yet, you are having a nice, quiet lunch while the PNP and JLP are still warring?"


    Right then, everyughing person gradually calmed down. Arthur could feel the tension in the room the


    deeper he wandered in. He knew he had everyone''s full attention at that moment.


    "What is your business here, sir?" Another gentleman asked.


    "I want to make a difference in dis country."


    "Wonderful, another dreamer," the white man snickered while turning and going back to his seat.


    "A dream is only frivolous if de dreamer does not believe in it." Arthur rebutted. "For far too long dis


    great nation of ours has seen violence and corruption of all sorts."


    "See here, Parliament is not corrupt!" One man adamantly stood up from his seat.


    "Den why be defensive, friend," Arthur questioned with a pointed finger.


    "Let''s hear him out." The white man suggested. "He obviously traveled a far distance just to state his


    case. And we are a government of the people. Let the people speak."


    Arthur continued to ramble around the table and room. "I am de son of farmers. My family was born


    into de dregs of society, scraping up all dat we could to survive."


    "You''re telling the same story we all lived at one time, mon!" One man shouted.


    "And yet, you are sitting here having lunch in the Devon House." Arthur turned. "Much like Devon, I too


    have amassed a great wealth for myself. But unlike most of Parliament, I n on putting my resources


    to good use."


    "How do you know we are not doing good by our country?"


    Arthur turned a suspicious eye to the man and asked, "While de Prime Minister is in Canada, you are


    here enjoying a splendid lunch courtesy of de taxpayers. It is well documented dat none of you foot


    your own bill."


    "You young jackass," a ck man shot up from out of his chair. "How dare youe in here and¡ª


    "Sit down, Royson." The young, ckdy seated next to himmanded in a cordial fashion while


    keeping a steady eye on Arthur.


    Blushing, Royson did as he was told and slowly sat back down in his seat. By then, everyone had


    reimed their ces at the table and listened.


    "I am not here to use anyone of anything. As I was saying, I am from a modest family in Negril. We


    saw all kinds of degradation and misery. We saw firsthand how humanity and all of its...paranoia, drove


    us away. But as my family is all but gone, I remain to right de wrongs. To bring back a sense of civility


    to a ce dat never once saw it to begin with. I have traveled all over dis world. I have seen directly all


    de beauty dat dis has to offer, and yet, it is my lovely Jamaica dat stirs me de most. When I was


    but a pup, I and my siblings worked de cane fields for nothing at all. Our hands sore to de very bone. I


    have lost dem all by now, and yet and still, I strive onward for my lovely nation."


    "See here, this is all well and good, but you cannot juste in and entice us with some speech!"


    "My friend, dis is no speech." Arthur turned to the man. "Dis is my soul I bear to thee. The gang warfare


    dat is taking ce all over dis grand nation is deplorable. I once knew of a young man. He was a very


    troubled young man. All he wanted was to be free from de curse dat had befallen him. Little did he


    know, dat his curse was his strength. Dat is how I see Mother Jamaica. Dis mighty nation is not hell on


    earth, it is home. It is not a curse, but a stronghold. De young people of dis nation are in dire need of


    direction, but the leadership is old-fashioned and out of date. Unable to connect with de current


    environment. I am not saying just by me walking in here dat I can simply wave my hand and dis


    country''s woes will be gone. Dere is still a lot of work both inside and out dat needs to be done. But I


    have traveled very far to seek de minds of dose who call themselves leaders not to judge me, bute


    out of dis self-absorbed delusion dat they live in and take de time and effort to seek de minds of dose


    whobor night and day for mere scraps."


    "But we do care about our people!" One man contended. "It is not our fault that the youth are killing


    themselves, or that people do not have a livable wage! There are many factors that¡ª


    Everyone, including Arthur, all paused and waited for the passionate man to finish. But once he caught


    sight of everyone''s zing eyes staring him down he simply bowed his blushing face and chose to


    remain silent.


    "The excuses are longbored and tedious." Arthur continued. "Ie to offer solutions, not more


    justifications. While De Queen is over in Ennd sipping on tea and crumpets, we are here suffering


    with gangs, out of control political parties and poverty. And yet, she ims to care."


    "See here, sir!" The lone white man resisted. "I''ll have you know that the Empire of Great Britain is one


    of a humanitarian cause! Our Queen holds her constituents in the highest regard!"


    "I''m quite sure she does, but what kind of monarchy rules from across an ocean?" Arthur asked.


    At once, the white man melted his tense body back into his seat while the others nced at him and


    each other in the most leery fashion.


    "So far all we hear from you are words." The man named Royson spoke up. "What solutions do you


    have?"


    "Pull back the veil of secrecy. Dat may work in de Americas, but we are not dem!" Arthur fervently


    implored. "Show the Jamaican people dat you are with dem all de way. From the richest all the way to


    the poorest. Dere is a clear cut reason as to why dey do not trust you, it''s because your work is in de


    dark. De people only see dis," he pointed at the table, "but dey never see thepassion. Mr. Manley


    comes and he goes, but his passion for his people is but a whisper."


    "You may want to run for Parliament, young man!" One man said aloud. "But you do realize dat such an


    undertaking requires not only a viablemitment and de trust of de Jamaican people, but also a


    considerable amount of money, do you not?"


    Arthur turned and looked at the man for a second or two before smiling, "My friend, money is far from


    an issue as it concerns me."


    "Do you have any political experience whatsoever?"


    "My experiencees from life." Arthur smugly remarked.


    "You look as if you''re no more dan 28 or 29 at best." One man sneered. "Your so called life experience


    remains to be seen."


    "Precisely," the white man said. "You just cannote in here and present such ptrap to us like it


    were a tter of bangers. You should have never even been able to get past the guards."


    "Please, let him speak." The young and lovely woman softly pleaded. "He came all dis way to plead his


    case, and if you all call yourselves representatives of de people, den listen to one of your people. Mr.


    Manley, if he were present, would certainly hear his appeal."


    The room grew incredibly stiff and quiet. All Arthur could do was stand in front of one of the windows


    where the sun was ring on his back and marvel at the youngdy as if she herself were glowing like


    one of the chandeliers hanging above the dining table.


    "I am in your debt, mydy." Arthur bowed his head. "If I seem arrogant in my speech, den my


    apologies herald me. But like you gentlemen, anddy, I am passionate about my country. What my


    parents gave up long ago, I have embraced. Growing up destitute only gave me a deeper sense of


    appreciation for de following day. If you only saw de streets in which young people dwell on a daily


    basis. Needy mothers who only want better for dere children. Men who cannot provide for dere families


    because ofck of work, den perhaps the consideration of a voice dat sees dis day to day would


    possibly sway your opinions." Arthur then began to walk the room again. "I do not im to be a wise


    man, but I am a man who hears de cries of his people. A man who''s heart is afflicted, and rather dan sit


    around and wait for some great miracle to ur from a quote, unquote, pie in de sky, I am more dan


    willing to do all dat I must in order to be not only de voice of my people, but also de leader dat dey so


    desperately need. Even if it means my very existence," he gripped his fists as tight as he could.


    Still, the room remained perfectly silent until Royson suddenly snickered sanctimoniously, "The


    Americans have a name for people like you. They call them Chatans." He then snickered, "Even


    your English is disastrous."


    Arthur could not only sense the haughtiness steam off of the man, but he could also hear his heart beat


    faster and faster with the passage of every second.


    Looking straight at Royson, Arthur replied in kind, "But I am still here before you, unimpeded, am I


    not?"


    Some jaws were closed shut while others were hanging to the table. Only the chirping birds from


    outside seemed to bring a somewhat calming effect to an otherwise tense setting in which everyone,


    set aside Arthur, was locked inside of.


    Squirming in his chair, one ck man sat and frowned, "Who...who are you again?"

 Chapter 37

    Chapter 37


    Arthur and the thirteen were all gathered inside another stately room within the mansion in which they


    were surrounded by three tables of nothing but delectable foods ranging from ice cream and berries to


    boiled ntains. Hanging in a corner of the room was a full grown green and yellow feathered parrot


    that would sit and stare hard at Arthur every time the man dared pass by the creature. Its beady eyes


    would never, not even once, leave the man''s face.


    Almost everyone seemed to be in a jovial mood upon hearing Arthur''s passionate speech. There were


    a few in the crowd, however, that kept their distance, choosing instead to huddle to themselves and roll


    their eyes while whispering back and forth about the indecent young man.


    "I apud your initiative, my boy." One ck man dly shook Arthur''s hands. "We need more young


    men like you in Parliament with such drive."


    Smiling right back, Arthur said, "I agree, we do need more people like me."


    "Ahh, and never a modest one to say the least," the white manughed out loud.


    The lone youngdy who was dressed in a powder blue, silky knee high skirt, matching sandals and


    headscarf, came up beside Arthur with a ss of Cognac in hand which she promptly presented to the


    man.


    Arthur took the ss before replying with a debonair grin, "I am honored."


    The two stood and stared at each other for nearly ten seconds before a person outside the room and


    down the hallway suddenly caught Arthur''s attention. It was a ck woman, more mature in age, who


    was adorned in a white dress that appeared as if it were suited for the 19th century rather than 1977.


    The cagey woman kept ring right back at Arthur with the most firm and frightful expression on her


    face. Arthur just looked back at her and smiled cunningly as if he was daring her to even say a word.


    "Are you well?" Thedy beside him asked.


    N?velDrama.Org ? 2024.


    Arthur watched as the woman in the hallway turned and walked away before he looked back at his new


    friend and confidently stated, "I am quite well."


    All of the sudden, a loud crash from the hallway startled everyone in the room. All eyes were on the


    hallway and the kitchen attendants who were rapidly cleaning up a table and vase that were all lying in


    pieces on the floor. Everyone was chattering amongst themselves, everyone that is except Arthur, who


    only stood with his one hand inside his pocket and a self-assured grin on his dark, blushing face.


    "It was probably one of the spooky ghosts in this old house that did it." One man quipped while sipping


    on his drink.


    "I wouldn''t doubt it." Arthur amusingly rolled his eyes away from the scene.


    "Tell me, Mr. Bushard, just how do you propose to solve the issue of the gang violence in our country?"


    Another man asked. "I hate to speak without Mr. Manley being present, but I feel the need to pick your


    brain on the subject."


    Taking a long drag of his drink, Arthur remarked, "Well, we must always remember dat de children are


    de future. Rejecting and ignoring dem only worsens de situation. Rallying dese young people to take


    responsibility in making deremunities safe is de first step in suppressing dis violence. Listen to


    dem, make dem a part of de process rather dan something dat needs to be cleaned up."


    "I agree, we need to let the youth know how valuable they are." The white man said. "America did it


    back in the sixties, and Great Britain is finally catching up." cing his hand on Arthur''s shoulder, the


    man continued, "Someone like yourself, Mr. Bushard, would be instrumental in getting this train rolling


    in this country atst."


    "Yes, dis political beast we call Parliament must be tamed!" One ck man said aloud.


    "Speaking of beasts, what have you with all dose horrible animal attacks in Negril?" The young woman


    asked Arthur.


    The question caught Arthurpletely off guard, but at least he was prepared to give an answer.


    "Ahh, I just happen to be a strong believer in controlling Jamaica''s wildlife issue."


    "Yes, but this isn''t just any kind of wildlife." Another man said. "Many have been killed over the past few


    days. I even heard reports that these animals caused an entiremunity to go up in mes."


    "Mere exaggerations dat can be overlooked," Arthur reassured. "Dis country''s issues go far beyond any


    wild creature dat is running rampant through de streets."


    Snaking her arm around Arthur''s, the woman looked into his eyes and said, "I agree, animals can be


    controlled, people on de other hand are a whole different story." She then began to lead the man out


    the door with a few others following in step.


    "Yes, anything that can keep that foolish parrot quiet is more than weed." The white man


    grumbled. "Thankfully it hasn''t squawked in almost an hour." The man then turned to Arthur and


    gathered his hands into his own. Then, with a warm smile, he looked straight into Arthur''s face and


    gleefully stated, "I look forward to seeing your name on the ballot, young man. We''ll have to straighten


    out that gaudy, gutter English of yours. But I assure you, my friend, you shall fit right in here."


    ***


    It was sprinkling that warm evening. A slight hint of coolness breathed upon the quiet grounds making it


    feel overly pleasant andfortable. The miniature white lights that lined not only the driveway but


    also thevish water fountain in the middle of the courtyard illuminated the darkness, which in turn


    gave off a delicate wonder that was pleasurable to stroll about in. The sounds of menughing on the


    porch of the mansion could be heard clear down in the front yard, but by thatte in the evening they


    were mere background noise that could be ignored.


    Both Arthur and Janai walked arm in arm underneath the long boardwalk that had white lights


    streaming back and forth across the walkway. All along the yard the butlers were walking and tussling


    with their skittish Doberman pinchers who apparently wanted to go nowhere near the boardwalk. Some


    actually managed to break free and run away, while others fought and struggled to keep clear of the


    area in which Arthur inhabited.


    "So, you had to settle for number three." Arthur sympathized with Janai."


    Shaking her head shamefully, Janai responded, "Dat''s right. Little Miss Sandra Kong not only took de


    top spot, but she''s now dating Bob Marley! Can ya believe dat?" She spoke aloud.


    "How can anyone make you number three?" Arthur turned up his nose. "Dat''s insidious!"


    "If ya ask me, dey chose her because she''s light-skinned. Dey don''t tink we dark ones are very


    attractive. Dey never did, as far as I''m concerned." She griped.


    The two carried on before Janai looked up at Arthur and asked, "Did you enjoy de ice cream?"


    Chuckling, Arthur answered, "My diet consists mainly of meat and marrow."


    "I heard dat bone marrow can actually be cooked and consumed. It is good?"


    Smiling from ear to ear, the man said, "More dan you can imagine."


    Arthur watched Janai''s every movement that seemed to be more entranced and spaced-out than


    focused. It looked as if she were thinking hard on a subject.


    "A person could get mighty depressed having to deal with all dis rain." Janai protested.


    "It still rains in Negril as we speak."


    "I have to admit dat I was so fascinated and heartbroken at de same time when you spoke of your


    family and de way you grew up." Janai patted Arthur''s hand. "It just seems so tragic to me."


    Nodding his head in humility, Arthur said, "It was far from easy. My mother and father were very heavy-


    handed with my siblings and me. But somehow we managed. I can only hope dat I can make dem both


    very proud."


    "I am quite sure you shall."


    The two continued to carry on before Arthur came to a stop in the middle of the walkway right beside a


    palm tree where a little, lone lizard was crawling up onto a branch.


    "Tell me of Royson." Arthur peered into Jania''s eyes.


    The woman sighed before uttering, "Royson is, how do you say, eye candy. Bitter candy." She then


    giggled.


    Arthur as well giggled and asked, "Does he make you irie?"


    Janai thought for a moment and remarked, "In small doses. He was¡ª


    "Was?" Arthur tantly interrupted.


    Blushing, Janai replied, "Yes...was my dear friend, but strictly for image purposes. He figured dat with


    hisck of looks and personality, and my...assets, we''d make a perfect pair."


    "What Mr. Royson does not realize is dat you are far more dan what your appearance makes you out to


    be."


    Janai gave Arthur an appealing nce before bashfully turning her head away. "Arthur, I cannot¡ª


    Arthur ced his fingers on her chin and gently lifted her head back to his. "Why do you turn away?"


    Blushing as deep as she could, the woman said, "I do not know for sure. You have such lovely eyes."


    "My eyes can tell de greatest stories."


    "I''m quite sure dey could, Mr. Bushard."


    The two continued to stare at each other before Janai asked, "Do you have a love back in your Negril?"


    Arthur pulled back a slight bit before saying, "Why do you ask?"


    "Because, I would like very much to know if dere is anypetition; I think I have faced enough


    competition in my life."


    "Dere have been some." Arthur''s tone somewhat dropped. "Dere was one whom I blessed with many


    riches, but rather dan thank me, she instead chose to run off to the America''s and forget all about me."


    Twisting her lips, Janai griped, "I bet ya she regretted it de whole time."


    "More dan you can imagine. But I am not here to speak on my past." He drew closer to Janai.


    The two locked hands and gave one another prating stares into the eyes. "I think it is so wonderful


    dat you came all de way out here." Janai spoke into Arthur''s face. "I too want to travel near and far. I


    want to go to America, Australia, and De United Kingdom. Anywhere dat is far, I want to be dere."


    Arthur simply caressed her smooth face and asked, "What if I told you dat dere was a remarkable way


    dat could actually happen?"


    "How do you mean?"


    "What if I said dat dere was a power like no other in dis world? So much power dat it could add


    countless years to your life?"


    Chuckling, Janai said, "You sound like Ponce de Leon."


    "Perhaps, but unlike him, what I have to offer is a reality." Arthur then pulled away from Janai and


    leaned against the wooden fence of the boardwalk that overlooked the wet grass and lighted water


    fountain. "At first, it is striking and jarring. But after so much time, it bes so exhrating; orgasmic


    almost. It will electrify your entire being from head to toe."


    Janai walked up beside the man and looked at him. "What is dis power you speak of, Enchanter?"


    Arthur stood behind Janai at that moment. "Look out at de rain dat falls from de sky. Look at it very,


    very closely."


    The woman remained absolutely still and gazed out at the rain that fell in the darkness. After a full


    minute had passed the rain that was sprinkling so incessantly had all of the sudden began to slow to a


    creeping crawl, like it were falling in slow motion.


    "Are...are you doing dis?" Janai caught her escaping breath.


    Smiling behind her, Arthur answered in a whisper, "It is not me, my love, but de grace of dis power dat I


    possess."


    "How...how are you able to do dis?" Her eyes nearly fell out of her head. "How do I do dis?"


    "You must first be reborn. Den, you must be willing to ept de rebirth for what it is. My entire family


    did so, but only I was able to fullyprehend its potency. Because of dis power, I have been able to


    traverse de globe. It has allowed me to unlock all of de secrets of de past, present and de future."


    "You can see de future?" Janai kept her attention at the mysterious rain.


    "Not everything at once."


    "Is this heaven?" Janai''s body shuddered.


    Arthur gently turned the woman''s body around and looked her in the eye before he slowly drew her lips


    close to his.


    "Leave her and go." A still voice uttered inside of Arthur''s ears.


    Arthur halted his movements and looked all around without appearing startled. He wanted so badly to


    continue, but he knew that it would be unwise to disobey.


    "You are to go to the one named Hugo. Then...you are to finish the girl once and for all. After she is


    dispatched, you shall travel to America to devour the child."


    "What is de matter?" Janai questioned with shut eyes.


    "Leave her now, you shall return. The girl awaits in the forest."


    Ever so reluctantly pulling away, Arthur nted a kind and tender kiss on Janai''s forehead before


    saying, "It is I dat must apologize. My dear homnd is calling me. I must take care of matters dere for


    an evening."


    "But dis is so sudden, Arthur. Your home is so far away. How will you make it back in one night?"


    Smiling so graciously, the man replied, "Remember everyting I have told you dis evening, my dear. It all


    can be yours, if only you keep your candle for me burning brightly."


    "When shall you return?" She sounded perturbed.


    Turning and walking away, Arthur said, "After tonight, you and I shall be as one. One king, and one


    queen."


    "I shall wait for you. Do not forget toe back for me, Enchanter!" She waved.


    Arthur waved back as the rain restarted its original motion of pouring all of the sudden. The man kept


    on walking before the sight of a light from a second floor window of the mansion abruptly snagged his


    attention. The man stopped right in the middle of thewn and looked to see the same woman he


    encountered in the hallway hours earlier. Arthur only red both his shining eyes and his growing


    fangs at the staring woman before the trembling of his right hand abruptly brought him back to his


    senses. He looked down at the appendage with such tant curiosity that it nearly caused his ghoulish


    fangs to retract. He stuffed both of his hands inside his pockets before looking back up at the window to


    find both the woman and the light gone.


    Arthur only cracked a crafty grin as he continued on through the grass and into the darkness of what


    appeared in his eyes to be the backyard of the mansion.


    The deeper into the wide expanse he ventured the more it seemed that his own legs wanted to slow


    down. Eventually, Arthur ended up stopping directly in the middle of the backyard before gazing all


    around. Why he chose to stop didn''t seem to register or weigh too heavily upon his mind, it was the


    sheer fact that something had all of the sudden seized his being that seemed to capture his soul. He


    was standing perfectly still, and yet, melting within his own body.


    His nostrils red in and out. The only things he could hear that evening were the crickets buzzing in


    the moist air and the men from the front of the mansion carrying on.


    "Come out...now." Arthur whispered in a grunt.


    Just then, directly in front of him, a figure was steadily approaching. Arthur assumed a defensive


    posture. He could see the individual''s body, but their face was clouded by a darkness that not even his


    night eyes could prate. It unnerved him to where he began growing out his fangs. However, before


    he could even blurt out a simple growl, something from beneath him grabbed a hold of his legs and


    began dragging him down into the earth. Arthur wailed out, wed and grabbed for the grass that was


    rapidly escaping him. With every struggle that was all the deeper Arthur seemed to sink. He screamed


    once more before catching sight of the person that wasing at him.


    "Sister," Arthur panted at the sight.


    It was Akoni, naked and bleeding right before him. She stood above her besieged brother with a


    mournful ze upon her face while the woman from inside the mansion came and stood beside Akoni.


    She as well wore a somber frown while watching Arthur sumb to the pit in which he was being


    pulled.


    "Sister...aide me," he desperately hollered. "I am your brotha!"


    But Akoni only stood and looked on at her brother while the demuredy next to her stared daggers


    down into Arthur''s eyes, as though his just desert''s hade atst. Just ring back up at them as


    he descended only instilled an even harsher determination within Arthur at that instant. He stopped


    screaming long enough to gain a hold of a solid piece of ground before gradually struggling his way


    back up. The longer he stared at the two spiteful women the stronger he seemed to be.


    Soon, the man found himself climbing upwards and out of the mud-filled ground. The very second he


    was able to stand to his feet he noticed both his sister and the otherdy gone. From left to right he


    scanned the grounds only to find itpletely void of life. Arthur then looked down at his clothes to find


    them ripped and torn to shreds, making him appear as though some wild creature had attacked him.


    Much to his own surprise, the hole in which he had been sucked in to was nowhere to be found. The


    ground was perfectly manicured and undamaged.


    "My love, is that you?" A female''s delicate voice inquired in the night.


    Without thinking, Arthur quickly spun around and sank his fangs right into the woman''s neck before


    dragging her down to the wet grass and devouring her until there was only bone left to savor. Arthur


    kept on and on until he finally backed away and stood up only to discover that he had ughtered


    Janai. The dead womanid there on the ground a bloody mess of shredded flesh and exposed neck


    bones.


    Wiping his filthy face dry, Arthur, with disdain in his throat, sneered down at the corpse, "The teacher


    tasted better."


    Janai''s dead, stunned eyes remained open, seemingly pointed lifelessly at Arthur who only slowly


    backed away as not to look directly back at them. The man was unfazed by the incident that had taken


    ce just moments earlier; as a matter of fact, it only excited him.


    "See here, what''s going on out there?" A man''s voice shouted out.


    Arthur turned and heard men scrambling towards his direction and dogs barking in front of them. Within


    the midst of the darkness he could see shlights swirling about. He snarled at the oing party


    before stepping over Janai''s corpse and striking away into the night with a still unsatisfied stomach.

 Chapter 38

    Chapter 38


    The four German Shepherds barked ceaselessly as the billowing smoke engulfed the small space


    within the cave. Both small and medium sized rocks were still tumbling to the ground as the coughing


    and gagging of human beings could be heard clear outside the mouth of the cave.


    "Alright, everyone, follow me!" Livingston shouted as he carefully marched back into the cave''s


    entrance, waving noxious smoke and debris away from his face.


    One by one Livingston''s henchmen and the workers all filtered back into the cave. Once enough smoke


    had been cleared away Livingston knelt down to the ground and shoved as many rocks aside as he


    could before spotting something shine out of the corner of his right eye.


    "Bring the light down here!" Livingston feverishly panted.


    At once, one of the workers shined theirntern towards the ground. Livingston''s heart dropped to his


    knees at that very instant before he shoved and scattered even more rocks away that ended up


    revealing a cluster of sparkling diamonds.


    "My God," one of the female workers joyfully screamed.


    Everyone behind him all rejoiced in song and dance, but Livingston remained on his knees in a stunned


    storm. Yes, he too was ted; his face was blushing so much that it resembled a ripe tomato. But


    expressing his ecstasy was akin to squeezing blood from a stone, it was beyond impossible. The man


    just couldn''t bring himself to leap out of his shoes. He was too jolted to even utter a simple grunt.


    "We''ve done it, mon!" Philippe yelled into Livingston''s ear. "We''ve finally done it!"


    Livingston scooped up a mass of tiny diamonds into his jittery hands before standing to his feet. "You


    see?" His body shook. "You see what happens when you work hard and never give up? This be the


    fruit of allbor!"


    The crowd hollered for joy as the dogs barked and howled. Soon, everyone, with their own bags in


    hand, got down to their knees and began gathering as much booty as they could before throwing it into


    their separate cloth satchels. Livingston stood and studied both the diamonds in his warm hands and


    the people on the ground collecting their work.


    He looked back and forth until he managed to concentrate solely on the shiny treasure in his hands.


    The smoke from the explosion was still prevalent inside the cave, but as hard as it was for him to


    breathe, the rampant thoughts and aspirations of what his wealth could bring him overwhelmed


    Livingston to where he couldn''t stop shaking.


    The men and women were all hooting and hollering with their newfound fortune before Livingston. The


    man had gone deaf for a few moments. All he could see was smoke, people dancing and the fire of his


    existence. Every so often his eyes would nce back down at the ground where more diamonds just


    happened to be lying. Nearby was the line from where more dynamite was still connected. There was


    so much shininess on the ground that gathering as much as one could seemed nearly impossible. He


    never realized just how much was actually hidden within the cave''s walls.


    "Okay, okay!" Livingston shook his self back to life and shouted as he picked up his own bag from off


    the ground and dropped his handful into the satchel. "Listen, get as much as you can and head out the


    rear of the cave. There''s a good chance that the vigers down below heard the st, and if that''s the


    case then they''ll be up here sooner thanter. Taking the rear out of here will leave us undetected."


    Everyone did as ordered. They scooped up and filled their bags with as much wealth as they could.


    Livingston spotted a wheelbarrow to his immediate left. The man tossed his full bag into the cart.


    "Here, fill this cart with everything and I''ll make double sure no one ising up the mountain!"


    Livingston yelled before racing back to the cave''s entrance.


    He poked his head out while ncing behind him to find everyone doing as they were told to do. They


    all carelessly ced their bags into the wheelbarrow, and like giddy young people took off down the


    opposite end of the caveughing and cavorting as though their lives were suddenly trouble free.


    The very second thest henchman was out of sight Livingston ran back to a corner of the cave where


    the fuse box was still resting. He picked up the box and listened until the barking of the dogs became


    more distant before he sparked the fuses on the trigger, one, two, three times, which in turn activated a


    second explosion that caused the rear section of the cave to rumble and copse. Livingston picked up


    the wheelbarrow full of satchels and hurriedly carted it out of the cave''s entrance while leaving the


    screaming workers to their ultimate fate back inside.


    Smoke came flowing out of the cave''s mouth like it was on fire. Livingston dragged the wheelbarrow


    down a trail and to the waterfall where his truck was parked next to several brightly litmps. The man


    gathered and tossed every bag of diamonds into the back of the truck before he looked back at the top


    of the trail where a plume of smoke was still curling out.


    For the first time in years the man had not a care in the world. The night in all its sprinkling glory was


    perfectly still. The flowing waterfall beside him looked so effervescent in themplight that it was nearly


    poetic. Livingston then turned the wheelbarrow over onto its side before making his way back around to


    the driver''s side of the truck. However, just before he could even climb inside, there erupted a moving


    sound right behind him. With the quickness of an on duty soldier Livingston whipped out his gun and


    spun around only to find Arthur standing there. Livingston almost fell backwards at the sight of the man.


    He was already a sweaty mess, but right then the man''s face drowned in wetness.


    Arthur was a soggy, soaking mess of a man. Gone was the dapper, well-trimmed gentleman that had


    intrigued an entire Parliament cab.


    "I...I was waiting for you." Livingston stammered.


    Arthur uttered not one word; he just began walking about in themplight until he managed to stand


    right in front of the waterfall.


    "I see you and your crew have atst unearthed heaven." Arthur steadily stated.


    Squirming back and forth, Livingston replied, "Oh yes, finally got the dynamite to work. The job''s all


    done."


    Arthur nodded his head with a curt grin. "Were you nning on leaving without saying goodbye?"


    Rolling his eyes and sniggering, "Are you serious? Even I know better than that. I was waiting for you


    to get back so we could split this stuff." He said as he walked to the back of the truck.


    "Is it really ten million dors'' worth as you said?" Arthur slowly inquired.


    "Possibly more than that," Livingstonughed out loud as he reluctantly rummaged through the bags.


    "Let''s hurry and split this up before the vigers get up here."


    But when Arthur stopped speaking that only caused Livingston''s heart to race all the more furiously. He


    knew that the man was still behind him, and his ominous silence was unnerving to the point where his


    shaking began all over again, only by then it had intensified to where he couldn''t even hold a cluster of


    diamonds in his hands without dropping a few in the truck''s bed.


    "Is dere a problem, Mr. Livingston?" Arthur''s voice deepened.


    Livingston''s body immediately tensed up so much that he could hardly even move at that instant. "I...I


    was just getting your share of the¡ª


    Without thinking, Livingston grabbed his gun and spun around to find Arthur still standing there, but


    with fangs drawn and a pair of white eyes staring back at him.


    "Were you nning on disrespecting my family by leaving us out?" Arthur growled.


    "No, no, I swear down, I didn''t do it!" Livingston slobbered.


    "You kill all de workers, and I am d, but you dishonor my name by trying to escape me."


    "You killed your own brother and sister!" Livingston screamed. "What''s gotten into you? How can


    anyone fucking trust you?"


    Grunting at the man, Arthur remarked, "Yes...I killed my brother and sister. I killed dem both, and


    now...now, I won''t kill you."


    Livingston''s body at that second began to gradually ease down. He kept his gun tuned at Arthur''s face,


    and no matter what, he would not part eyes with him.


    "I shall see to it dat you are well taken care of for all your service to my family." Arthur bowed his head.


    "Taken care of?" Livingston sneered.


    Just like that, Arthur rushed at Livingston with the speed of a mountain lion. Livingston was entirely too


    taken off guard to even mount his own defense before he was snatched by the throat and tossed into


    the side of the truck. The man yelled and hollered as Arthur and his fangs ferociously tore and ripped


    across the man''s body, leaving blood smeared on the truck and the rocks on the ground. Livingston


    saw his gun on the ground, but every time he attempted to reach for it Arthur managed to grab him in


    time and pull him backwards.


    Livingston fought as hard as he could against the attack, but Arthur was entirely too strong and vicious


    to be withstood. Livingston kicked, wed and screamed, but no matter what he was powerless. Soon,


    he found himself being hoisted in the air by Arthur''s strong arms. Livingston looked down at the cavern


    where the waterfall was ending. All the man could do was close his eyes.This content ? N?v/elDr(a)m/a.Org.


    Just as he thought he was going to be tossed into oblivion, Livingston instead felt his body crash


    through the ss of his truck.


    The manid there prostrate and near death while catching glimpses of Arthur taking the bags from out


    of the truck''s bed and growling out of sight.


    Livingston shut his eyes.

 Chapter 39

    Chapter 39


    Arthur appeared from out of the dense mist in thete night forest as if he were a fixture within the haze


    itself. He stood and meticulously studied the still, dark and quiet area with vignt precision, not


    wanting to make any sudden moves. By then the rain had slowed to a whispering spray that felt


    soothing on his bald head. Arthur noticed that it was so dark that even his night eyes that were piercing


    the ckness were having a difficult time seeing straight. A sorrowful and echoing moan in the forest


    caught the man by surprise just then. It was so miserable and heavy that it caused Arthur''s stomach to


    turn at that moment. But the moment the echo passed a blissful grin crossed his face.


    "I hear you, poor children." He chuckled from his gut before plodding down a trail.


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    The man continued to walk until he came to a hut where light was flickering within. Before he could


    evene to the front door Arthur could hear what sounded like musicing from inside. More like


    humming. He then looked down at the doorstep to notice a flimsy, ck skirt just lying about. He


    reached down, picked it up and sniffed at its fabric.


    "Mama," he sneered so delightfully."


    With extreme caution he neared the front door and simply pushed it open only to find both Senada and


    Cusha seated at the table humming the old tune, ''Take me to the water''. Arthur shut the door behind


    him and stood before the two women with a most curious re on his face, as to say he was both


    pleased and surprised all at once.


    "Is it be him?" Senada slid her hand across the table.


    Cusha just looked up at the man for a moment and regretfully replied, "It be."


    Arthur continued to stand and stare before he eventually said, "I do not know you." He pointed at


    Cusha. "But I do recall you." He then hissed at Senada. "Where have you been all dis time?"


    "I be where I am." Senada answered with a quiver in her throat.


    Arthur gawked all around the tiny hut which was lit up with candles from one corner to the other. "She


    not here, I see." He said.


    Neither woman said a word. Arthur actually held his breath and looked up at the leaking ceiling before


    looking back at Cusha and gazing deep into her eyes.


    "Ahhh...so we meet again." He smiled. "Now I know why you are here."


    "Why are you this way?" Cusha asked.


    "I am simply a victim of circumstance." Arthur patted his chest.


    "You were never a good person." Senada gritted her teeth. "Do you remember dat over dere?" She


    then pointed to a corner.


    Arthur turned and went over to pick up the rag doll that was lying on the floor in the same corner. He


    studied the smelly, filthy thing from front to back before looking back at Senada.


    "Yes...I remember your boys now. Dey both went smoothly down my gullet."


    "Is that how you felt about everyone you took?" Cusha asked. "Are you happy with what took ce with


    Isaac? How you delighted in tormenting him?"


    "Isaac was a first." Arthur remarked. "He was very unusual in de sense dat he was de first outsider to


    experience such grace."


    "You call it grace, but it was hell for him."


    "Twas hell because he did not know how to utilize such a blessing," he stated. "Had he kept on he


    would have be ustomed to¡ª


    Arthur then stopped speaking and stared hard at both women. He nced all over the room some


    more before he began to back up.


    "Where is she?" He softly questioned.


    Still, neither woman would speak. Arthur then drew close to Cusha and stood above her in the most


    imposing manner possible.


    Staring up at the man, Cusha said, "This is not how this has to end."


    "She is near here...isn''t she?"


    "You should know that better than us. Or is you''re shaking hand telling you something else?"


    With both speed and rage, Arthur''s fangs extended before he grabbed Cusha by the face and tore right


    into her flesh with the ferocity of an enraged animal on the hunt. He kept on eating and swallowing her


    insides so much that for a moment he forgot all about his own mission. The man then simply tossed her


    dead body to the floor before he turned and noticed Senada scaling her hands across the hut''s walls in


    search of something.


    With his bloody, foaming fangs dripping all over the floor the man walked up behind the old woman and


    rubbed his body against her''s.


    "Where is my knife?" Senada whimpered.


    Arthur sniffed her hair and neck before whispering, "Both of your boys dwell in hell."


    Senada all of the sudden vomited ck ooze from out of her mouth before dropping to her knees.


    Arthur stood above her and looked down as if he were examining a pathetic creature.


    "I do not feast on wounded animals." He growled. "I am, and always shall be your lord and master."


    With only his left hand the man took Senada by the neck and twisted it, leaving her head dangling to


    the side before her entire body copsed altogether. Arthur stood back and looked a bit longer at the


    dead woman before ncing back at Cusha''s corpse. Then, one by one he blew out each and every


    candle until the hut waspletely dark inside.


    "Isaac, my dear friend," he spoke while heading for the door. "Where is your bride?"


    Arthur walked out and quietly shut the door behind him. But just before he could take a step in the


    same direction he first came, a pungent aroma caught his senses. He looked down to see a glistening


    substance on the ground. It was blood; Thick, fresh blood that wasyering the ground before him like


    oozing oil. Arthur followed the trail that led down to the pig pen where only one pig remained. The other


    two were all but gone.


    The blood trail was still strong, so much that Arthur could hardly contain himself from wanting to devour


    the lone swine that was steadily sleeping in its pen. He opened his mouth and roared at the ck sky


    before taking off down another blood-lined trail.


    ***


    Arthur tracked the trail of blood all the way down to the pier; a file mile trek. The man was far from


    stupid or na?ve, he knew full well that he was being led. But all he needed was Lyte, the final piece


    to his all-important puzzle. Once the trail ended at the foot of the forest Arthur stopped and gazed down


    at the pier where numerous boats were docked. He then looked over at the sea and the rolling, ck


    clouds where shes of lighting were streaking to and fro. Arthur sniffed the air from left to right before


    he was able to pick up the scent all over again. He trampled out of the forest and down the


    embankment until his shoes hit the sand. He then scanned all seventeen small, docked boats before


    his nose began dragging him faster along the way.


    Arthur paused right at Post #5 and said, "You are here." Arthur extended his fangs even further before


    looking up at the sky and growling, "I can smell you!"


    Snarling as he plodded on, the man kept passing each boat before the scent that he had been


    following for miles became strong all over again. Arthur found himself standing at Post #9. The trail of


    blood was no more, but the aroma was still ever present in the thick air. With the most unfettered


    caution Arthur stepped up onto the nk of the white fishing boat and boarded. He skulked about on


    the top deck before taking the steps down below where he noticed a small cot in a corner, a shelf


    where cans of food were ced and a mini refrigerator resting right beside.


    Arthur''s eyes glowed in the darkness of the bottom deck like two small beams of light. The scent of


    blood in the bottom cabin was so fresh and pure that it seemed almost as if something or someone had


    been ughtered inside. The man could hardly contain himself; he was a seething furnace of boiling


    hunger that would not subside. His entire body, from head to toe, was trembling to where just trying to


    restrain himself waspletely outside of his own will. The man actually began to shiver from hunger


    spasms. Blood saturated the floor so much that maintaining a steady foothold was nearly impossible.


    Arthur crept towards a small door until his hand touched the knob. The instant he twisted the knob and


    opened the door he immediately saw a silhouette ahead of him. He quickly growled at the figure only to


    notice that something was out of sorts. The silhouette was not normal looking. It was hanging from the


    ceiling...by a snout.


    With confounded eyes the man slowly ventured towards the thing only to realize that it was a bleeding


    pig that was dangling by a rope. Arthur wanted to devour the remains, but with all of the blood


    surrounding him attempting to gather a single rational thought was like trying to hold water in his hands.


    His train of thought had bepletely derailed.


    "You shouldn''t havee here." A voice whispered right behind him.


    Arthur spun around only to see a darkened figure standing before him. He didn''t even have a second to


    think before a sharp object was lifted in the air and thrust directly at him. But Arthur only proved to be


    too fast as he caught the de in between his own hands.


    "Ahh...you cunt," He shined his fangs.


    The person on the other end of the de would not speak; they only struggled back and forth against


    the powerful demon. It was right then that Arthur''s growling grew even more beastly, as did his ws,


    while his face, which was stretching outwards, was gradually beginning to form what looked to be a


    snout.


    "Here he is, Isaac!" The female''s voices shrieked out loud.


    Arthur spun around at that instant which ended up giving the individual on the other end a chance to


    snatch therge de away from Arthur''s shaking hands and use the weapon to slice his hairy neck


    with one swift blow. Arthur grabbed his profusely bleeding neck before savagely lunging at the person


    before him. But his fight was limited as he stumbled back and forth inside the tiny cabin.


    From the hanging swine into the cabs he crashed and gagged before he found the strength to climb


    his rapidly fading body up the stairs and onto the top deck. The man spat and spewed blood all over


    the already messy deck before reaching the side of the boat. He tried in such utter vain to roar, but his


    swiftly depleting oxygen would not allow for even a mere grunt as he bumped up against the side and


    toppled over and into the water.


    Lyte, who had covered her naked self in pig''s blood from her head all the way down to her toes,


    came up top with Senada''s butcher knife. She stood in the middle of the deck with sullen eyes for a


    moment before ultimately crashing to her knees.


    "I killed an alligator tonight, mama." Her tongue listlessly dragged. "I killed an alligator tonight, mama. I


    killed an alligator tonight, mama."


    Just then, at that same instant, faint rumbles of thunder began rolling through the sky as the water


    started shuffling and shifting up and down which in turn caused the other boats, including #9, to jostle


    about. But all Lyte would do was kneel and keep on repeating over and over again the de


    that seemed to y repeatedly inside her own lethargic mind. She remained in the darkness of the


    swaying boat in all her bloody glory just staring at the nk spot where Arthur once stood.


    After about ten minutes or so of agitated weather, everything ceased to a perfect standstill; almost too


    perfectly still for Lyte''s liking.

 Chapter 40

    Chapter 40


    All Hallows Eve


    "Hugo. Hugo, awaken from thy slumber."


    Ever so sluggishly Livingston, who was still dangling from the truck''s passenger window, opened his


    bloodshot eyes before falling backwards onto the muddy ground. He raised his right hand to pull out a


    shard of ss that just happened to be lodged inside his forehead. Instantly, blood started to stream


    down his face. The man wiped it away before attempting to get to his feet.


    "Yes...Yes, get up."


    The rain had atst ceased. Livingston looked all around at the gradually brightening morning but could


    find no one in sight.


    "Who''s there?" His voice slurred.


    The man''s body was cursed in pain. His scratched and scarred head and face was bleeding profusely,


    his stomach felt as if he had been punched all night, and his legs could barely keep a steady bnce. It


    was morning, a hazy and warm morning. Livingston stumbled about looking up at the rolling clouds and


    the mist that was surrounding him so heavily that seeing just two feet ahead caused the man to stagger


    in sheer amazement at his own blindness.


    "Come to me, Hugo."


    "Arthur?" Livingston screamed out loud. "Arthur, is that you," he spun around and around.


    "It is I, your new master."


    Livingston reached into his pants pocket only to recall that his gun was no longer inside. The man then


    leaned up against his own truck.


    "Please...where are you?" He hollered.


    "We are here, Hugo." A series of voices answered in unison.


    "Who''s we?"


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    "Come before me, Hugo. All the others failed, but you can be made brand new."


    "God...please help me!"


    Livingston haphazardly ran around the truck before he managed to climb into the driver''s side and m


    the door shut behind him. He then covered his ears as tight as he could, only to discover that the


    voices were bing louder.


    "If only you knew."


    "Knew what, dammit?" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "What the hell is happening? Where''s Arthur?"


    Livingston squirmed and twisted about in his seat right before catching a stunning glimpse of his face in


    the rearview mirror. There was blood drooling down from his forehead, as well as two missing front


    teeth, but beyond all those disfigurements there was one blemish that grabbed his soul and wouldn''t let


    go. Shaking and slobbering incessantly Livingston sat inside his truck and stared so hard at the two


    hazel eyes that stared right back at him with such unrelenting horror. The man touched his face and


    eyes with his two bleeding and quivering hands as though he couldn''t believe that they belonged to him


    at all.


    "Sweet... Jesus in heaven," he breathlessly stuttered. "Sweet Jesus in heaven!"


    "Be my son, and I shall be your father."


    Livingston wept like a child while looking all around at both the truck and outside. "Sweet Jesus in


    heaven!" He kept yelling while steadily reaching over to the glovepartment. Once he pulled the


    latch a collection of papers, a shlight, map and a revolver all fell out onto the floor. Without any


    reluctance whatsoever, Livingston bypassed all the other mess only to reach the gun.


    "No...do not do that!"


    "Sweet Jesus in heaven, forgive me!" he bawled once more before sticking the gun inside his mouth


    and immediately pulling the trigger, which in turn caused the back of his head to burst wide open and


    blood to stter all over the window beside him.


    Silence was such a sweet melody that Halloween morning as a dead many inside his truck all alone


    in the mist of the Jamaican mountains.

 Chapter 41

    Chapter 41


    Judging by the way he was dragging more than usual, one would believe that Charles had just left a


    funeral all alone. Completely drained, the man stepped into his warm, empty apartment and neatly


    ced his cane right beside the door. From there, he slugged his heavy body into his bedroom and sat


    down on the side of the bed that was facing the window. The only thing the man could hear outside


    were children ying and the city bus roaring by. Beyond that everything inside his head had gone


    silent.


    He sat on his bed with a stomach so twisted up in knots that he could barely even breathe. He had to


    brace his own body to keep it from shaking. In all honesty he didn''t want to leave the jailhouse; he had


    to assemble everyst bit of courage just to get on the bus. By the time Charles even made it to the


    apartment building his will had all but left him. Seated on the bed was a hollow husk. All he desired at


    that point was an end, a fitting finale; and the wait was even more dreadful than the eventual act itself.


    Charles sighed before a lonely tear began to drop from his left eye. Just as soon as he was about to


    shut his eyes he heard the front doorknob rattle and twist before the creaking of the door itself came


    into earshot. He listened as the door closed shut before footsteps began plodding across the floor.


    Immediately, the man held his breath before his heart pounded loud and hard enough to where it felt as


    if it were about to explode right through his chest. Charles gulped as hard as he could while steadily


    staring out the window at the sunlight that was trying so desperately to peek from out of the clouds that


    morning.


    From out of nowhere the robust aroma of fresh roses floated into the bedroom before Charles could


    feel a presence creep up behind him. He began to whimper out loud while shaking hysterically. He tried


    so hard not to look, but he couldn''t help himself. Out of the corner of his right eye he saw a ck figure


    walk into the room and bypass him altogether on their way to the window. Charles nearly fell over at


    that blistering instant. It was a man dressed in an all-ck suit and tie. He just stood at the window


    looking out at the emerging sun.


    Charles was so bbergasted that he couldn''t even operate his own tongue. He was still shaking, but it


    was a whole different kind of tremble that had seized him without warning.


    The man remained at the window for a few moments before asking in a dull tone, "Do you remember


    when I was a kid, and you would take me down to the train yards to watch the engines go by?"


    Still quaking, Charles'' tongue fumbled, "Ye...yes," he drooled.


    "I used to love going down there all the time. I''d always be in school wishing I could hop on one of


    those trains and ride away from math ss. Or whenever we''d go to Aunt Henrietta''s house. I used to


    hate going over there because of those mean cats of hers."


    Charles cracked a grin while even more tears fell from his swollen eyes. He couldn''t take his eyes off of


    the man who had his back turned to him the entire time.


    "That day...I went down there and nearly got on one."


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    Charles had to push as hard as he could just to speak. "Wha...what stopped...you?"


    The man hesitated before replying, "I guess deep down I just wanted it all to end. Everything...from


    start to finish."


    Charles wanted the man to turn around so badly. He wanted to jump up and fling him around just to


    see his face if not for one time.


    "All those trainsing and leaving. Moving so fast. All I could do was just stand and watch each and


    every one pass right by me. Then...one of those trains just stopped. Just like that, it stopped. And


    mama said that I need to hurry and get on before it takes off again."


    Charles nearly chocked right then. All he could do was sit and cry without making a single sound in


    doing so.


    "I think I can finally get on that train and just sit back. Thank you for dressing me up for my trip." A few


    silent seconds passed before the man simply turned and began back towards the bedroom door.


    Without even looking at his face Charles'' broken voice spoke up and muttered, "You be a good boy


    now, and tell your...mama...that I''ll be home from work soon."


    The scent of roses lingered in the air even after the man had departed. Charles continued to sit and


    blindly gaze out the window while sobbing. He couldn''t move even if the building were on fire at that


    point.


    Soon, the front door could be heard opening and closing all over again. Charles noticed something that


    sounded like keys rattling behind it. The man quickly wiped his eyes and face clean before lifting his


    heavy frame up from off the bed and limping with rubbery legs into the living room to find Audra


    tantly traipsing around checking the windows and thermostat. Charles could sense the heat


    emanate off of her like an open me as she rampaged about like a busy bee. He saw iting from


    miles away, and he knew that it was all justified.


    Without even looking in his direction, Audra bitterly ranted, "I need to find someone to do something


    about these drafts around here before the winter arrives. One nearly knocked me to my feet as I got to


    the door."


    Charles suspiciously gawked from one end of the room to the other before venturing deeper until he


    found himself at the front door.


    He leaned his arm against the door in a defiant manner and remarked, "Why on earth would you want


    to pay someone toe up in here and do something about the draft when all I have to do is take


    myself down to the hardware store and get some sent?"


    Audra abruptly stopped short of the kitchen''s threshold and stared oddly at the man as if she had never


    laid eyes on him before.


    Going over to the side of the couch, Charles reached down and picked up his library books before


    heading back over to the door. "Now, I gotta go down to the library and turn these back in. But once I''m


    done with that then I gotta go down to the hardware store and pick up some supplies to fix Russell''s


    icebox, and then I''ll get that sent. And also, please tell Mrs. Howell the next time I go over to fix


    something in her ce to have her bathrobe on. Thest time I was in there the woman was in her


    underwear. I nearly had a stroke when I saw that, and I''m getting too old for shocks anymore."


    Audra stood with a nk face before a quaint smirk eventually came from out of nowhere. "Okay...I''ll let


    her know." She humbly whispered.


    The two stood fifteen feet apart from one another grinning before Charles began to blush and mutter to


    himself in a jocr manner right as he exited the door with his cane helping him along the way. The


    very second Charles found himself out in the hallway he halted his every move and held his breath until


    he couldn''t any longer. He turned his head and gazed down at the other end of the quiet hallway before


    turning to the stairs that led downwards.


    He waited and listened before a certain image of his son ran across his mind. It was such an idyllic


    recollection that it made Charles'' body sweat from his head to his feet. He wanted to smile, but held


    back out of fear. Charles eventually moved his stiff legs towards the steps and began his descent.


    Before he could even touch the final step Robin came huffing and puffing through the front door.


    A sweaty clutter as usual, the young man took off his hood and looked up to see Charles. "Oh, good


    morning, Mr. Mercer," he said aloud.


    Charles atst touched the first floor and just stood and stared at the man with such a benevolent grin


    on his face that he nearly toppled over onto the floor with tion.


    Standing at the door, Robin said in a skittish-type manner, "Uh, Mrs. Audra said that you would be


    packing up and leaving soon."


    Charles dropped his books to the floor before stumbling forward and embracing the young man as tight


    as he could in his arms. The second he let go of Robin the boy stood back in astonished wonder with a


    quivering lip to match.


    "Uh...are you okay, Mr. Mercer?"


    Bending over and picking up his books, Charles replied with a nd smile, "I don''t for sure. All I know


    is that...I have to be somewhere. I''ll see you when I get back." He sighed before patting Robin on the


    shoulder and exiting the building.

 Chapter 42

    Chapter 42


    "Time to wake up," a man''s loud voice bellowed outside the dumpster in which Jeremiah was still lying


    cold inside.


    The man struggled to awaken himself from the harsh slumber in which he had been trapped. He could


    hear the man outside repeat his four words over and over again, but for the life of him Jeremiah


    couldn''t figure out just who he could have been speaking to. All of the sudden, a sting knock at the


    dumpster caused Jeremiah to jump so violently that he hit the top of his head on the dumpster''s steel


    lid.


    "Who''s in there?" An old, dingy looking, bearded ck man opened the lid.


    The sunlight rushed right inside the dumpster to where Jeremiah had to shield his eyes. The man then


    attempted to get up only to remember the effects of the beating he endured. Immediately he slumped


    back down into the pile of filth.


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    "Man, what are you doin'' in there?" The old man looked confused. "Are you drunk or somethin''?"


    Rubbing his aching jaw, Jeremiah once more tried to sit up until his hands reached the rim of the cold


    dumpster. "What...what day is it?" He slurred.


    "It''s Halloween, man. Where you been?" the old man snickered.


    "In the fucking trash can, there''s where." Jeremiah cantankerously griped as he climbed up and out of


    the dumpster, holding his sore ribs as tight as he could.


    The second his feet hit the hard pavement he staggered backwards into the dumpster scaring


    numerous cats away in the process.


    "Who were you yelling at a moment ago?" Jeremiah asked.


    "Oh, I was just waking up my buddies around here." He pointed at the scurrying felines. "On chilly


    mornings like these they tend to oversleep. They usually hide out in these here dumpsters, too."


    Jeremiah''s face and body felt like someone had beaten him repeatedly with baseball bats. He wrapped


    his jacket around his body as tightly as he could before limping away from the dumpster and old man.


    "It''s time to wake up, friend!" The homeless man shouted.


    Jeremiah paused and nced behind him at the man who was steadily waving back at him. Even


    without his sses he could see the fellow as clear as if he were standing directly in front of him. Such


    a thing hadn''t urred since he was a child.


    Jeremiah turned and resumed his brooding march out of the alley and around the corner to the bar''s


    empty parking lot, empty, save for his own car that was, much to his shock, still parked in its original


    spot. Without even going for his keys Jeremiah opened the driver''s side door and got in. The second


    he shut the door he sat perfectly still inside the frigid vehicle and rested his painful body in the seat.


    What was going through his head was a tidal wave of everything horrific, and unexpectedly serene.


    With such vivid precision he recalled the event back at his apartment, as well as the faces at the bar.


    But then there was the old man in the alley.


    Jeremiah sat and sulked while shivering inside his body. He dropped his head and closed his eyes in


    an attempt to drown out any emotion, but it waspletely useless; there was entirely too much quiet,


    and all the quiet seemed to do was remind him of what he had survived up until then. Jeremiah then


    lifted his head back up and looked right into the rearview mirror at his busted up face. Arge bleeding


    cut above his right eyebrow, a broken nose and a split lip which revealed a missing tooth behind it. By


    then, the sore ribs were a secondary matter.


    He dropped his head and took in a deep breath before gazing all around his car until his eyes


    connected with his books that were in the backseat. Jeremiah reached behind him and took one book.


    He opened its cover and skimmed through its contents. One picture after another only caused the


    man''s already stinging head to throb all the harder until he simply tossed the book into the passenger''s


    seat. Jeremiah sat and looked out at the parking lot before ncing back at the book beside him. Then,


    with as much rage as he could gather the man picked up the book and flung it to the floor.


    He then reached behind him and picked up the rest of the books before taking and mming them


    against the door and seats so hard that the upholstery began tearing. One by one he angrily threw


    each book to the floor before finally ceasing his tirade and leaning his head up against the window


    beside him.


    He exhaled as deeply as he could before pitifully whispering, "I''m so sorry, Isaac. But what could I have


    done? How could I have helped you?"


    Jeremiah rammed his head as hard as he could on the car''s horn. He then took out his keys and


    inserted them into the ignition.


    "I know, mom and dad!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "I know!"


    From there, he started the vehicle and didn''t even wait for it to warm up before taking off down the


    road.

 Chapter 43

    Chapter 43


    Charles with his books in hand got off of the bus and carried on towards the public library. The autumn


    leaves swirled and blew all about in the careless wind that morning. As the man hobbled along he


    couldn''t help but to take a quick stop and study the various school children scurrying about with their


    Halloween costumes on while waiting at the nearby park for their school buses to arrive. Some were


    wearing disguises that bore the images of witches, vampires, and Frankenstein, or Star Wars


    characters.


    Out of all of them, the only masks he couldn''t seem to spot were ones that he expected to see more


    than any of the others. Out of all the children and their costumes, not once did he see one that even


    resembled such an evil gue that he had in mind. It was nowhere to be found within the throngs of


    children that were happily frolicking to and fro. The mask waspletely vacant to his sight.


    Charles swallowed before turning and resuming his march up the tall library steps and into the warm


    building where librarians were either dressed up in costumes or not. The man,pletely oblivious to


    his surroundings, carried on towards the front counter. The instant he reached the counter he ced


    his books down and went for his wallet within his pocket.


    "I''ll be with you in a moment." A male voice said from behind a shelf.


    Charles rooted about inside his pants pocket for his wallet. The moment he found it right beside him


    approached a sweaty and smelly Jeremiah who dropped his bruised books onto the same counter next


    to Charles''. Charles timidly nced over at the untidy young man as if he were looking at an


    unfortunate soul that required both aid and prayer. Jeremiah returned the gesture, only his gaze was


    meeker, like he was too ashamed to look anyone in the eye. The two men stood only a few inches


    apart from the other at the counter awaiting service mercifully sooner thanter.


    "Okay, sorry about that, gentlemen." A middle-aged white man came up to the counter dressed in a


    Drac costume,plete with a ck cape, painted white face and stic fangs inside his mouth.


    Both Charles and Jeremiah stood and watched as the librarian checked each and every book. Charles


    couldn''t help but to take notice of the books that the man beside him was checking back in. How simr


    they were to his.


    "You can definitely tell its Halloween just by the content thates in and out of here." The librarian


    smugly stated.


    Charles could smell the man beside him. His aroma was shockingly pungent. He wanted so badly to


    turn and say something to him, but there was a force inside of him that kept him quiet and restrained.


    He couldn''t exin it to himself.


    Looking at Charles, the librarian said, "Okay, these books are long overdue. So that means you owe


    seventeen-fifty."


    Humbly nodding his head, Charles took out his wallet and handed the man a twenty dor bill. The


    librarian gave the man his change. Charles then stood and counted the remaining money inside his


    wallet while the librarian conducted his business with Jeremiah.


    "Okay, and it just so happens that your books are well overdue as well. So your totales


    to...sixteen-forty-nine."


    Jeremiah searched about inside his pants pockets, but all he seemed to be able to pull out of his wallet


    were a few bills. "I, uh...all I have is gas money." He miserablymented.


    Looking disappointed, the librarian replied, "I''m afraid these books need to be paid for immediately."


    Charles watched as the young man beside him did his best to stall for time. He could tell that it was


    such an agonizing situation to be stuck in.


    "I''ll pay for his books." Charles stepped forward.


    Jeremiah stared so hard at the man that it looked like for a moment he was about to break down and


    cry. "Thank...thank you." Jeremiah fought to mutter before turning and limping away.


    The librarian, with a pair of haughty eyes, twisted his lips and muttered, "We get a lot of homeless


    people in here around this time of year. It''s like an infestation."


    Charles ignored the man''s remark and handed the librarian the money while watching Jeremiah melt


    into the crowd of library patrons. All he could do was watch him vanish. Just as Charles was about to


    head out the door himself, his eyes managed to catch sight of Russell who just happened to be exiting


    the busy library as well. As if his very life depended upon it Charles gathered his cane and hobbled


    after the man straight out the building and down the stone steps.


    "Hey, Russell," he yelled out.


    Russell stopped and spun around. From where he was standing Charles could see the man roll his


    eyes at him. Immediately Charles staggered down the steps and caught up with him right next to the


    yground.


    Zipping up his ck leather jacket, Russell grudgingly asked, "What are you doing here? Mrs. Audra


    said you got locked up."


    "Yes, I got locked up, but that was a whole different matter." Charles carefully answered. "I wanted to


    talk to you."


    Russell stood and studied the man as if he were disgusted with him. "Man, look, I got a really busy


    morning. "I ain''t got time for some jive talk."


    "Hold on, hold on now." Charles halted him. "I wanted to talk with you about the other day."


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    Snickering, Russell said, "Man, I was drunk the other day. Forget everything I said."


    "No, you weren''t drunk. You and I didn''t meet by ident."


    Russell ceased his every movement right then. Even the sharp wind that whistled through the courtyard


    didn''t seem to faze him.


    "I, too, have been seeing a lot of things these past few months."


    Russell stared before asking, "Things like what?"


    "Let''s just say that...whatever it was, it got my full attention. I don''t know up from down or right from left


    anymore, but I do know that God¡ª


    "Man, I don''t wanna hear nothin'' about God!" Russell erupted.


    "Hold on! You''re acting just like my son used to!" Charles caught him by the arm.


    "Where was God when I was over there in ''Nam? I ain''t heard from him yet!"


    "Your problem was just like mine. You want answers now and not tomorrow. Life doesn''t work that way,


    Youngblood." He sternly responded. "You have to learn to wait and make better decisions."


    "Better decisions?" Russell frowned.


    "Your decision to leave your family," Charles bluntly stated.


    At that very moment Russell stood back from Charles in an indignant fashion, looking as if he wanted


    to rear back and punch him.


    "My boy made some kind of bad decision in his life. I honestly don''t know what he was up to, and I''ll


    probably never find out in this lifetime, but I do know that...we may go through the fire for a while, but


    eventually, God brings us all back home." Charles exined in a sobering voice.


    Russell stuffed his hands inside his jacket pockets while gazing around at all the children. "I...I miss my


    daughter, man." He sniffed. "But I just can''t go back to her all messed up like this."


    "You''re not so messed up if you can admit that you''re a mess." Charles said. "I messed up a lot in my


    time. Quit thinking that you''re beyond redemption, that you''re so evil. Because believe me when I say,


    I''ve seen true evil...face to face."


    Russell dropped his head in a defeated manner. He then looked back up at Charles asking, "So, what''s


    been going on all this time?"


    Charles looked hard at the man. "I don''t know for sure." He mumbled. "I don''t even know if it''s all over


    or not. But I''m not waiting around anymore to be swallowed up. My crippled self is going to keep


    fighting on."


    Russell snickered, "Man, get outta here!"


    Laughing himself, Charles said, "Shoot, I bet you''ve never seen someone move as fast on a cane as


    you have me, now have you?"


    "Nope, nottely," Russellughed back.


    The two carried on a bit more before Charles said, "Look, I gotta go down to the hardware store and


    get that fuse for your icebox. But before I do that, I need to get some real breakfast. That jailhouse food


    never changes. It''s always been torture."


    As the two began walking away, Russell couldn''t help but to inquire, "So you''ve been locked up before,


    huh?"


    "Hey, we don''t talk about that." Charles chuckled.


    "Excuse me, Mr. Mercer!"


    Charles and Russell stopped and turned around to see a man steadily walking towards them. The


    closer the man approached, Charles could see a warm smile pushing its way through his thick beard.


    "Can I help you, sir?" Charles cautiously asked.


    With a right hand extended, the man greeted, "Good day, the name''s Mike O''Dea, formerly of the


    Cypress Police Department."


    Charles examined the unkempt man up and down for a moment before saying, "Is that right?"


    "Yes, sir," O''Dea lodged his hands inside his coat pockets while ncing around the chaotic courtyard.


    "I have to admit that I just love these cool, fall mornings. Don''t you?"


    Suspiciously nodding and grinning, Charles said, "Yes, it''s not too bad. How can I help you, sir?"


    "Well, sir, perhaps if you and I could have a moment alone." O''Dea happened to nce at Russell.


    "I, uh, I''ll meet you back at the apartment." Russell timidly spoke up.


    Pointing at Russell, Charles looked at O''Dea and adamantly replied, "This here is my friend. Whatever


    you have to say to me you can say in front of him."


    Blushing, O''Dea remarked behind a grin, "Very well. You''re a very hard man to find these days, Mr.


    Mercer. I meant to visit you while you were in the hospital, but thest time I visited someone there,


    well, let''s just say that it didn''t turn out too well."


    "I wasn''t aware that I was being sought after." Charles sulked. "My time in the hospital was a very trying


    moment in my life, Mr. O''Dea. A moment I''d rather not revisit if it''s all the same to you."


    "I can definitely understand that. But I certainly didn''t catch up with you just to waste your time."


    "Well, what did youe here for then?"


    "Mr. Mercer, I don''t believe in luck. Not anymore at least. I truly believe that me catching you here was


    meant to happen." O''Dea stepped a bit closer to Charles. "I''m gonna cut right to the chase. I was the


    inspecting officer for your son''s murder."


    Charles froze solid right where he was standing. Even his muscles wouldn''t dare budge at that point.


    All he could do was stare ice at the man.


    "Thest thing I want to do is uncover old wounds. But I really need to speak with you concerning this


    matter."


    "What on earth is there to discuss on the matter?"


    O''Dea nced around the courtyard before looking back at Charles and saying, "Well, it concerns the


    animal attacks that took ce both this past summer, as well as back in February."


    "And just how did my son fit into all of that?" Charles began to fidget. "Better yet, if you are no longer


    with the police department, why are you still stuck on a closed case?"


    "Well, Mr. Mercer, because I don''t believe the case is fully closed. Over the course of the past few


    months a lot of strange urrences have taken ce, most notably, your son somehow escaping the


    clutches of the animal that murdered Leroy Cummins. That awful incident inside Ms. Glover''s residence


    in which an animal was heard within. And then, this past summer with all the murders."


    "Once again, sir, how does my son fit into all of this?"


    "All these months I have been scouring through all sorts of evidence, clues and whereabouts into the


    case. I''ve visited Leroy Cummins'' home. I''ve been to Hollis Estates. I even paid a visit to Ms. Glover''s


    house recently. Were you aware that three boys were found mutted inside that house?"


    Charles'' stomach right then dropped before he gasped, "No...no I did not."


    "That''s right. Don''t you find it curious that perhaps there is something very...what''s the word? Creepy?


    Still taking ce with all of this?"


    "Creepy sounds like an old hippie word, if you don''t mind me saying." Charles replied.


    Snickering, O''Dea remarked, "While I myself am no friend of flower power, we''re almost at the dawn of


    a new decade; the hippie, much like the dinosaur, is all but extinct."


    "Perhaps so, but I can''t seem to bring myself to dwell on such matters anymore. I was just telling my


    friend here before you showed up that my son made some bad choices in life. But now, all of that


    doesn''t matter anymore."


    "Just what kind of choices did your son happen to make, Mr. Mercer?"


    "Hold on," Charles put his hand in the air. "Like you said, us meeting like this was no ident. I''ve


    been going through some very tumultuous things myself these past few months as well. Till this day I


    can''t exin any of what was going on with my son, those animal attacks, or what took ce with


    those boys at that house. God be with their souls. But I am assured of this, after all the dust has


    settled, I, too, can now go home."


    Batting his eyshes, O''Dea uttered, "I don''t understand."


    "Neither do I, sir. But I think we all just need to go home."


    As Charles began to turn and walk away, O''Dea caught the man by his left arm. Charles, with a look of


    utter disbelief, stared down at the man''s hand before O''Dea finally removed it.


    Nearing closer to Charles'' face, O''Dea urgently whispered, "I need this. I''ve been going crazy all over


    this city trying to piece all of this together. Thest inspector and his entire family were killed a few


    months back over what he discovered in the matter. You didn''t see the look in that man''s eyes. You


    didn''t see the look in Detective Bruin''s eyes the day after your son''s murder. This goes far deeper than


    some wild animal killings. This is all I have left."


    Charles just looked at the man with the most dismal expression for a few moments. "Then, sir, this will


    be your cross to bear. I no longer want it." He calmly stated. "My son...my dear son, is home."


    Right then, O''Dea paused, and with bugged out eyes began peering off into the distance behind


    Charles. Charles spun around and looked past the scores of children to see a police car cruising by the


    courtyard. Without as much as a goodbye O''Dea immediately took off in the opposite direction. Charles


    turned around and began walking away across the yground with Russell right beside him. The man


    was determined not to allow the weight of the odd conversation to overwhelm him.


    "What the hell was that all about, man?" Russell kept ncing backwards.


    "He''s in God''s hands now." Charles simply replied without looking back.


    As they walked on, Charles'' attention couldn''t help but to be snagged by three little ck schoolgirls


    who were ying double dutch in the middle of the yground while singing rhymes to each other. All


    Charles wanted to do was stand and watch. Every word the girls sang out loud only seemed to make


    his already cold skin all the more stiff.


    The more his watery eyes observed the girls there seemed to appear amongst them a lone little ck


    boy who wore only a pair of blue jeans, ck sneakers, a shirt and a red cape. He was running around


    the yground without a bit of restraint in his merry stride. His arms spread eagle as he soared from


    the jungle gym to the tetherball pole. Charles focused on the boy and only the boy, everyone else


    within the vicinity was absent. And that was exactly how he wanted it, just a few sweet moments with


    the careless child before he vanished away.


    Charles held back the tear that wanted to drop from his right eye. Soon, the sights and sounds from the


    yground returned with a rushing gust. The man gripped his cane as tightly as possible right as the


    three girls'' nursery rhyme came to an end the very instant their school bus arrived at the curb.


    Charles looked on and on, but the caped little boy was nowhere else to be seen amongst the gathering


    of costumed children that were boarding their waiting bus.


    "You okay, man?" Russell stood beside him and asked.


    Clearing his parched throat, Charles answered, "Yeah...I guess I am. I''m just thankful that the children


    are okay, too. Please, God...be with the children."


    "Man, I don''t trust the fuzz, no matter what color theye in." Russell remarked.


    "It''s not the police that are the problem. That man has other burdens that he has to iron out. He can


    either turn it over to Jesus, or be one of the walking dead."


    Russell then turned to Charles, and with a stiff face he asked the man, "So...do you really believe my


    story from the other day? I mean, I don''t wanna sound like I''m losing my mind, but it all looked so real


    to me."


    Charles, with a pained grimace on his face, inly responded, "Unfortunately...yes, my friend. Yes I


    do."


    The two of them stood and stared at one another for a few silent moments before parting eyes and


    turning down the sidewalk. As they resumed their walk, Russell wrapped his jacket''s cor more


    securely around his neck.


    "Man, I can already tell it''s gonna be another freezing cold winter, and it''s still fall." Russell grumbled.


    "It''s been a lot colder, son. A whole lot colder."

 Chapter 44

    Chapter 44


    Coming hot off the long, winding road, Jeremiah pulled his Camaro into the Sohio filling station and


    parked in front of one of the pumps. He sat for a spell and studied all around the small station until he


    spotted a payphone located at the very edge of the property.


    "What can I get for you, sir?" An older white man clothed in a pair of greasy jeans and an equally


    grease-stained jacket came up beside the window.


    Unfazed by the man''s abrupt appearance, Jeremiah got out of the car, and without even looking at him


    said, "You can fill it up."


    Jeremiah dug deep into his pockets while walking slowly towards the phone booth. Once inside he shut


    the folding door and inserted his quarter into the phone''s slot. He hesitated ever so long before finding


    the bravery to dial the number he never wanted to in the first ce.


    Coughing up any useless phlegm, Jeremiah uttered, "Uh, mom, dad. I know you guys are on vacation,


    and to be honest, I''m kinda d I got the machine instead."


    Jeremiah watched as a semi-truck roared by him down the highway, sounding like an almighty war


    machine.


    "I uh, I don''t quite know where to begin. This year has been my undoing. I''m afraid I haven''t been one


    hundred percent honest with you guystely. You see...you know all about Julie and I, but...I''m no


    longer a psychiatrist. To be truthful, I haven''t been to work since the summer; ever since what


    happened in Cuyahoga. God, I feel like such a moron." He wiped his sweaty brow.


    "A lot has happened to me this year, and I don''t know how to deal with any of it. It''s hard for me to


    exin it all over the phone. Hell, it would be hard to try and exin face to face."


    Jeremiah then removed the phone from his ear for a few seconds to exhale before he resumed. "Life is


    all about experiences, and believe me, I have experienced a lot over these past few months. I can''t go


    back to work; I can''t even go back to my own apartment. All I can do is go forward. I know that I''m


    rambling, but I can''t help myself. Please, mom, don''t worry about me. Dad, please don''t try and figure


    me out. I''m leaving Ohio. I don''t know for how long, but it''s for the best. I''ll get in touch with you guys


    once or if I ever do get settled. For the record, I do believe in God...and other things, too. I love you


    both. Goodbye for now."


    With tears streaming down his face, Jeremiah hung up the phone. He then opened the booth''s door


    and made his way back to his car, wiping his face dry along the way and taking heavy breaths just to


    clear the fog from his lungs.


    "Mighty nice vehicle you have here!" The station attendant marveled.


    Sniffling and exhaling, Jeremiah responded, "Yeah, it gets me to where I need to be. How much do I


    owe you?"


    "Ten dors even."


    Jeremiah took out his wallet and handed the man two five dor bills before going for the driver''s side


    door.


    "A person could get inside one of these and take off like a rocket." The man wiped his hands on a dirty


    rag. "If you don''t mind me asking, where do you n on taking her?"


    Just as he was about to climb inside Jeremiah paused and gazed down the road. "Rhode Ind," his


    voice faltered.


    "Really," the man perked up. "My wife has some distant cousins that live way out there. Mighty nice


    country this time of year. A whole lot of pretty trees and leaves. If you''re into that sort of thing, that is."


    Jeremiah got inside, started the engine and pulled back onto the highway. "May God be with you,


    Isaac." He fondly muttered with trembling lips.


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    He didn''t speed, nor did he go at a turtle''s pace, he just went on and on for as far as the road would


    tolerate him.


    Neither fast nor slow.

 Chapter 45

    Chapter 45


    February


    "And you say this is where the fire started?" Roy Brickman observed as he stood and studied the


    burned top of Linus'' bureau.


    The man scaled his right hand against the scarred wood grain while trying to figure out inside his own


    head just what sort of incident could have taken ce inside his friend''s apartment.


    "Yep, that''s it." Linus, still wearing his sling around his left arm, and clothed in a pair of blue jeans and a


    sweater came back into the living room with two unopened cans of Lowenbrau in hand.


    Roy took the beer and popped open the cap. Linus responded in kind before leaning against his


    recliner and sipping ever so slowly. Roy took a couple of drags before strolling about the small


    apartment. "I know you quit smoking years ago, but do you think perhaps you may have left a lighter on


    the dresser by ident?"


    Turning around with a haughty grin, Linus replied, "Roy, it was the fur, in and simple."


    Roy quit walking and faced Linus. "You say fur, but I just don''t see fur igniting into mes."


    "Yeah, isn''t that funny?" Linus callously remarked before sitting himself down in his recliner.


    Roy sat himself down on the couch adjacent from Linus and sipped some more on his beer. For a while


    both men just sat and brooded inplete silence. The fizz from the beer inside the individual cans


    was the only sounds that were being made. That, along with frequent sighing every so often.


    Roy sat and studied Linus who refused to make eye contact with his Captain. He would just sit and


    caress the tip of his can while his nk eyes were steadily fixated on the dingy carpet. Roy was staring


    at Linus Bruin, but it was apletely different version of the man; a version that made no sense


    whatsoever. He could have used and thought of every clich¨¦ imaginable to describe the man, from


    ''empty shell'' to ''soulless'', but something was terribly amiss with Linus, and Roy feltpletely


    helpless.


    "Shirley wanted me to give you her best." Roy suddenly spoke up.


    Grinning somewhat, Linus replied in a mncholy mood, "Bless her heart. I actually yelled at her the


    other day inside Cummins'' house. I meant to apologize to her for that."


    "Well, you know her; she tends to look the other way in such matters."


    "Yeah...yeah she does." Linus drifted away.


    Roy watched the man trail off once more before he sat back in his seat and cantankerously grunted,


    "You know, this is bullshit."


    Linus abruptly awoke and asked, "How''s that?"


    cing his can down onto the table next to him, Roy firmly stated, "I didn''te over here to sit and


    listen to the winter wind blow. You and I need to get this out in the open right now."


    Linus sat his can down onto the floor before rubbing his broken arm and rolling his eyes. The man kept


    trying to evade Roy''s eyes, but no matter what, Roy was just as persistent.


    "Now, you may have dodged O''Dea, but I need to know what exactly happened so we can put an end


    to this nightmare once and for all." Roy nearly shot up from out of his seat. "I was thinking about calling


    in a few favors, just like thest time, but unless you give me something tangible to work with involving


    this incident then my efforts won''t be worth a damn."


    Linus sat and rubbed his hands together as though they were agitating him. "Do you know that it took


    hours for me to finally get that man''s blood off of my hands and nails? He muttered.


    Roy was caught off guard momentarily, as if he too were mesmerized with Linus'' hands. "What exactly


    did O''Dea say to you?"


    Sighing, Linus responded, "Do you recallst year when¡ª


    "Nope, nope," Roy cut right in. "We''re not ying ''Time Machine'' here. You''re going to face a grand


    jury!" He raised his voice. "A grand jury that is only going to see you as the bad guy! I need to know


    what happened inside that house, and I need to know right now!"


    "Roy¡ª


    "Forget about it, Linus!" Roy got up and began walking back and forth across the carpet. "Why can''t


    you juste right out and say what went on?"


    "Because I''m not going to my grave with everyone thinking that I''ve lost my mind." Linus simply blurted


    out."


    Roy immediately stopped pacing at that instant before staring hard down at Linus. His reaction to the


    man''s words would have suggested that the wind had just been sucked right out of him.


    "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Roy gasped.


    "Sometimes there are certain urrences in our lives that...that we hoped to God we''d never even


    seen to begin with."


    "Are you talking about that Charles Manson, bigamist cult you and Fitzpatrick bustedst year?"


    "No. You want to know what happened inside that house, and why I had to put that man down? Then


    here it is. What I experienced back in Cummins'' house, and then the Sanders'' home was only a


    prelude."


    "A prelude to what," Roy stoodpletely stiff.


    Linus himself got up and wandered over to the window. "I knew full well that that entire day was leading


    to something. But deep down, I never wanted to admit it out loud. Even on my way over to apprehend


    Mercer that night I felt it. I can''t tell you how many times I wanted to turn that car around and juste


    back home."


    Roy had all but forgotten how to move at that point. He just stood and watched as Linus stared out the


    window while blindly telling his ill-fated story. Something wanted him to keep on telling his tale, while


    something else inside of him wanted to walk out the door and never see the man again.


    "When I pulled up to the house, I wanted to just sit there inside that car, but I kept on going. I kept on


    going up the porch steps, inside that house and straight into the bathroom. It was like I was being


    pulled inside."


    Roy expected Linus to continue, after all, there was not a single pause or stutter in his speech. But


    when Linus just suddenly stopped, that was when Roy found it difficult to keep his own body from


    trembling. Linus was at the very foot of revtion, and yet, both men seemed apprehensive to continue


    on.


    "I remember holding that woman''s bloody body in arms. God, please be with her and that child." Linus


    droned on.


    "You''re skipping a part, Linus. What happened in¡ª


    "Please don''t me Fitz. Don''t even me Isaac Mercer. That poor, ungodly kid." Linus'' voice


    softened. "I remember his father walking in and holding his dead child in his hands. That poor,


    wretched child of his."


    "What made him so wretched, Linus? After all, he did break your arm."


    Linus remained still and quiet for almost an entire minute before he said, "No...he didn''t."


    Shaking his head, Roy put his hands on his hips and began pacing all over again. "All I''m hearing from


    you is what you remember about a guy that nearly killed his fianc¨¦e, son and yourself. I''m hearing how


    sorry you felt for that guy. Hell, if I can''t get any information out of you, then perhaps I should head


    down to the hospital and question his fianc¨¦e."


    Turning his head, Linus firmly remarked, "Leave her alone! If you cherish me, then you''ll leave her


    alone forever!"


    Roy dropped his arms to the side right then and heaved a huge sigh before ncing all over the living


    room in a hopeless and defeated manner.


    "You know, I used to think that¡ª


    Suddenly, Roy stopped himself and focused solely on Linus'' back which was still pointed at him. At that


    very second Roy saw something that he himself had never seen before. It just shed into his sight like


    a bright blur.


    "I''ll be dammed." He muttered with a dry throat. "You don''t wanna be saved. You want to go down.


    Don''t you?"


    Linus never replied. Nor did he even budge, and that response alone gave Roy the visceral impression


    that something very vital was slipping away like water through his hands.


    "It''s funny you mention his father. That next day he and I sat down and talked. He, much like yourself,


    just wasn''t there." Roy exined. "But that still doesn''t exin how¡ª


    "Go home, Roy." Linus eventually uttered.


    And with that, everyst bit of will power Roy may have possessed at one time had all but been


    exhausted. Without another word spoken the man walked over, grabbed his trench coat from off the


    coat hanger and proceeded to open the front door.


    "Make sure to arm yourselves down there at the station." Linus said aloud with his face still out the


    window. "You''ve got a long journey ahead of you."


    Roy stood and studied Linus for about four seconds before the television that was sitting in the middle


    of the living room floor suddenly came on without warning.


    Roy took a slight step backwards and eyed the contraption that was showing ''The Texas Chainsaw


    Massacre.'' Linus remained at the windowpletely oblivious to the uncanny urrence that had just


    taken ce within his own home.


    With his face still pointed out the window, Linus said, "Don''t be rmed. It''s beening off and on all


    by itself for the past couple of days. Don''t ask me why. It just does so."


    Roy had not one word to express his unease at that stage. Everything had juste to aplete


    standstill right before his eyes.


    "And it always starts and stops at that one particr scene as well." Linus added.


    Roy looked back at the television right when the killer snatched his victim just before mming the


    steel, sliding door shut. Roy was stunned into stillness as the scene vanished right before the television


    itself went back off again, leaving the screen totally ck.


    It was then that Captain Brickman snapped back to the present while seatedfortably in his wonky


    wooden chair that overlooked the overcast Downtown Cypress scenery. Thest thing that sat and


    festered inside Roy''s memory was Linus'' backside that was staring right back at him as he walked out


    the man''s door. He couldn''t even recall Linus'' face without looking at an old picture; just his backside


    that wouldn''t turn away from the window that had captivated him so much.


    "Captain," Shirley Donaldson knocked on and carefully opened the office Captain''s door.


    Gradually, Roy swung around to face both his perfectly clean desk and a blushing Donaldson. "Well,


    Donaldson, I figured you would be home by now." He cleared his throat.


    "No, sir, not yet," Shirley humbly grinned. "I, uh, I just stopped by to see how you were doing."


    Growing a smile, Roy replied, "Well, as you can see, I''m all packed up and ready for home."


    "Yes, I can see that." Shirley remarked while gazing around the office''s bare walls. "Well, sir, I just


    wanted to give you this before you left."


    N?velDrama.Org ? 2024.


    Roy sat and watched as the woman ced a small box down onto his desk. Roy nced up at her


    before taking the box and opening it to discover a lone silver bullet inside.


    Taking the bullet out and strangely examining it, Roy questioned, "What on earth?"


    Like a giddy little girl, Shirley rocked back and forth in ce. "I remember when I graduated from the


    academy; my father gave me that bullet. It''s was first made way back in 1881. And every person that


    ever owned it has never had to use it. So I''m giving it to you, sir. It''s given me good luck throughout the


    years, and hopefully it''ll do the same for you."


    Roy''s face exploded into full red at that very moment. From front to back the man stared at the bullet


    before cing it back inside the box.


    Still smiling, Roy said, "I don''t quite know what to say, but...thank you."


    "You''re wee." Shirley kept on beaming. "Just don''t use it in one ce." She thenughed out loud.


    Roy subtly joined in on the humor before getting up out of his chair and putting on his trench coat.


    "Sir, just how do you n on spending your retirement?"


    Caught off guard by the question, Roy stood still for a second or two and sighed, "Well, my wife and I


    are heading back to Montana. From there, I''m going to be doing a lot of fishing."


    "Oh, that''s wonderful." Shirley replied.


    The two of them stood opposite each other and just soaked in the quietness that surrounded them


    before a helicopter from outside the window shattered the silence.


    "We''ve seen a whole lot here, haven''t we, Officer?" Roy red at Shirley.


    Shirley returned the re, only her''s was more on the verge of tears. "Yes, sir...we certainly have."


    "You just make sure that you keep this new captain on his toes like you''ve done to me all these years,


    youngdy." Roy began to walk around his desk with his one small box and one bigger, stuffed box in


    tow.


    "You can be sure of that, sir!" Shirleyughed again before a sudden frown came upon her. "I was just


    wondering, sir, will you be attending Sullivan''s funeral service tomorrow?"


    Roy''s body tensed up at that second as he sighed and said, "No, Officer. I''m done with funerals."


    Approaching the woman face to face, Roy extended his right hand and shook Shirley''s. He then drew


    close to the woman''s ear and softly inquired, "Everyone out there knows I don''t want some damn


    standing ovation, don''t they?"


    Nodding her head, Shirley remarked, "You don''t have to worry about that, sir. They all know you quite


    well."


    Stepping back, Roy said, "Good, that''s what I like to hear."


    With both of his boxes, Roy stepped out of his office and into the always busy work area where phones


    were ringing and officers were milling about like busy beavers. As he passed along one desk after


    another Roy was approached by numerous officers who either shook their captain''s hand or simply


    patted him on the shoulder. There was no pping or cheering, no tears or whistles, just admiration for


    a man that they both esteemed and at times feared. But just before Roy could reach the stairwell, an


    older, white officer adorned in his navy blue uniform suddenly approached the man from around the


    corner.


    "Ahh, Captain." He exhaled as though he had been running. "I''m d I caught you."


    "I''m not your captain anymore, Phillips, but what can I do for you?"


    "Well, sir, I know this newses a hundred years toote, but I thought you''d like to know that those


    seventy rifles that you put an order in for back in February just arrived about an hour ago."


    Roy looked hard at Phillips for a moment before dropping his head in a mournful fashion. "It figures."


    His voice sank. "Make sure the new captain uses them wisely."


    "Sure thing, sir," Phillips shook Roy''s hand. "And all the best to you and the Mrs."


    "Thanks. And be damn sure you find Sullivan''s killer. Don''t let this city drown in blood." Roy responded


    as he turned around and took one long view of the hectic work area that had seemingly and quite


    quickly forgot all about his very presence in the midst of their daily detail.


    From right to left Roy studied each and every individual before he unexpectedly looked down at the


    small box that Shirley had given him earlier. He didn''t want to study the thing for too long. As a matter


    of fact, he never really had to. He immediately went to the very first officer''s desk that wasn''t too far


    from where he just happened to be standing. It was a female''s desk where the officer had just hung up


    the phone.


    "Can I help you, sir?" She asked.


    "When you see Officer Donaldson, make sure she gets this." Roy promptly ced the box onto the


    woman''s desk before turning and heading down the stairwell for the final time.


    ***


    To all of my colleagues andrades, I, on this day, officially leave the service of The Cypress Police


    Department, of which I have been a willing servant for the past 41 years.


    It has been an honor to serve this great city to the best of my ability. Of my service I can say only this, it


    has been a journey. It has been a journey that at times I have relished, and at other times I have


    regretted.


    Within the years of my duty I have ran across numerous acquaintances. Namely, one Linus Bruin. A


    man that I still, and always shall have great respect for. I will admit that perhaps our rtionship was


    out of line at times. Perhaps I treated him more like a son rather than a subordinate. But I truly do know


    that of Linus Bruin, that man lived honorably.


    Why do I speak of Linus and not my own career? Simple, he faced something that no other man or


    woman on this force had ever faced. I will not speak of his demise, for I do believe that he perished


    long before he took his own life. My only regret is that I wished I could have been there alongside him


    that fateful night at that house. I''m not saying that the oue would have been any different, but I


    only wish.


    In my 41 years I have witnessed all kinds and sorts of triumph and misery, but in this year of our Lord


    1977, I can truly say that I have been bested; bested by that which I have never had the opportunity to


    face with my own eyes. And for that, I find myself beyond blessed.


    I hereby leave this town in the capable hands of the good Lord. May he forever have mercy upon


    everyone.


    Sincerely yours,


    Roy Jack Brickman.

 Chapter 46

    Chapter 46


    The Ind of Hispani


    Some days and some moonster. Sometime after all the smoke has cleared. Time passes, and it


    moves along like the rushing of the wind:


    He was a small, portly ck boy with the looks of a ten year old. His dreadlocks hung partially over his


    eyes which in turn always seemed to cause his vision to appear blurry with every waking morn. With


    only a brown rag covering his midsection the child blundered out of the mouth of his cave home and


    onto the bright morning shore where the sun glistened down upon the white sands of the beach.


    The little barefooted boy stepped lightly upon the hot sands towards arge rock that towered well over


    a hundred feet above him. Leaning up against the rock was a sharp pole which the boy promptly


    grabbed before heading further down the beach where the roaring waves brushed against his feet until


    he arrived at a nearbygoon. Thegoon itself was a peaceful and secluded slice of the ind that the


    boy held in the highest regard. It was always the first ce he went in the morning and thest he


    visited at night before turning in. The rest of the ind, from his standpoint, was inconsequential.


    Nothing existed beyond thegoon.


    As he approached the lush, blue pond, the boy, with his pole, stopped short of the sparkling water to


    take a long gander upwards at the glowing, blue sky and the sun that shined within it. At the edge of


    thegoon the boy could already see the pupfish swimming carelessly inside the luscious, blue water.


    The deeper he ventured towards thegoon the more distant the sound of the sea''s waves behind


    seemed to be. With as many pupfish as his eyes could see all at once the boy couldn''t seem to


    make up his mind as to where to begin. He just randomly picked one particrly clear spot within the


    water and started spearing. With not much precision in his aim the child stabbed his spear into the


    water as hard as he could in the hopes of tagging at least one or two fish for breakfast that morning.


    It took countless minutes for him to poke one before it managed to swim away leaving only a trickling


    trail of blood in its wake. Time and time again he shot at the water before atst managing to snag one.


    With a subdued smile the child pulled his spear out of the water before taking the fish off its sharp end


    and cing its quivering body on the ground behind him.


    Back at it once again, except by then the boy''s right arm was bing lethargic. He was happy for the


    one fish, but if he were able to grab more then it would have been a king''s ransom as far as he was


    concerned. After about five tries he managed to stab another fish and another after that one. One by


    one he gathered the two fish and sat them beside the already dead one before taking another shot. He


    suddenly spotted one particrlyrge fish that he just knew would possibly keep him well sated


    throughout not only the rest of the day, but the next as well. The boy followed the fish as it swam from


    one end of his vicinity to the other. The child chased after the thing until he managed to corner it by a


    rock.


    Like a madman the boy repeatedly jabbed his spear into the water, trying in vain to at least injure the


    fish. When he saw that the fish was trapped, the boy seized the moment by cing his left foot into the


    warm water for a more stable footing before he rammed his spear straight in. The boy had stabbed


    something, and it was quiterge. He had to think for a moment or two and remember the size of the


    thing to begin with. Its weight shouldn''t have been much of an issue, but for the strangest reason trying


    to pull his spear up and out of the water seemed soborious.


    The child pulled and pulled until both his spear and his own body went flying backwards onto the


    ground. The boy looked up to see a form bubble up from out of the water. Gradually, he sat up to gain a


    more precise view of what was taking ce. At first thought he figured it to a muchrger fish that he


    had managed to seize, but there was something unusually odd about its form. The fish seemed to


    possess a human''s hand and a head.


    The boy never shook, nor was he the slightest bit afraid, but that didn''t mean he would''ve just up and


    ran towards the thing. Instead, he got to his feet and cautiously approached the figure that was slowly


    drifting towards the grass. The boy took one of the arms that was covered in a mess of seaweed and


    heaved it out of the water. Before long, however, even more of a mystery began to take shape.


    The thing didn''t seem to have much weight to it. All that the boy was able to bring out was only the


    upper half of a dead, ck man''s body. No legs seemed to be attached. The boy just stood and stared


    down at the gooey and decaying cadaver with nk eyes before he turned and looked back at the sea


    behind him. He then knelt down and examined the corpse from side to side and from front to back. Its


    eyes werepletely white; no pupils could be seen within them. The clothes, or what was left of


    them, were torn to bits, as was the body''s left arm which had a huge gash bitten all the way in.


    The boy then caught a glimpse of the body''s head that appeared as if it were about to fall right off from


    its shoulders. From the neck the boy went back to the face, namely the mouth. He boy opened wide the


    mouth to find nothing but two rows of sharp fangs. Instantly, the boy backed away from the body and


    just stood above it in silent repulsion. His face was a picture of total stillness while his heart thumped so


    hard and loud.


    The boy looked down at his fish breakfast and then back over at the corpse. Then, without muttering a


    single word the child reached down and dragged the half body by the arm out of thegoon and onto


    the beach for about half a mile until he reached his cave. At first, the cave was dark. The darkness


    continued for nearly an entire minute before light could be seen. Inside a small corner of the cave were


    tiny candles that were all lit up in various spots of the dwelling. There was already a bonfire zing


    right in the middle.


    The sweating boy simply dropped the body onto the ground before he went over to what appeared to


    be a makeshift, rock shelf where two bowie knives, a red, rubber ball and a cracked mirror were all


    stored. He then sat and stared at the dead man and his unusual mouth that seemed to fascinate him to


    no end. The hard staringsted at least fifteen whole, silent minutes. After that, the boy dragged the


    rest of the body into the fire and stood back while it burned away.


    The odor of searing flesh consumed the cave enough to where even the boy had to cover his nose and


    mouth. Its abundant stench seemed to engulf the senses in a way that burning flesh hadn''t before.


    Even the smoke itself was leaving the cave as small whispers could be heard inside the boy''s


    residence. Not even he could decipher what they were saying, but he knew they were speaking to him.


    ***


    After about an hour, the boy took the skeletal remains out of the fire and finished relieving the


    remainder of the skin off of the body with one of his bowie knives. Once that wasplete, all that was


    left was an entirely fresh skeleton with a set of fangs that the boy made double sure to polish extra


    clean. With all of its weightpletely vanquished the boy was able to easily carry the remains down


    another corridor of the cave that was lit up by candlelight as well.


    The child, with the half skeleton cradled in his arms, stood for a moment and just looked up and around


    at his surroundings before going for a woodendder that rested to the side of the cave. ced on the


    ground beside thedder were makeshift wooden nails and arge rock. The boy took thedder and


    leaned it against the cave''s wall before taking the nails and rock and ascending just fifteen feet up the


    ladder.


    From there he took two of the nails and pounded them straight into the cave''s walls. He then climbed


    back down and took the skeleton before going right back up again and perching the thing onto the


    nails. In a crucifix-style, both arms were spread wide open while the head hung down. The boy,


    completely spent, climbed back down and examined his aplishment. From one end of the cave to


    the other was all of his work. Countless human skeletons, from adults to children, all nailed to the walls,


    with the most mysterious of them all, the fanged one, perched directly in the middle. The boy stood and


    gazed for a few moments before he went and snuffed out all of the candles. Once he was done with


    that detail, he left the cave altogether.


    All of the skeletons were left in the ckness, all that is, expect for one. That particr one managed


    to be the only one that was able to gain a small spark of sunlight that was fortunate enough to be able


    to poke in from the outside.


    N?velDrama.Org: text ? owner.


    Only its fangs seemed to be visible. Only its fangs...and a thin, ck ooze that slowly drooled down


    from out of its open jaw.

 Chapter 47

    Chapter 47


    Mother of Grace Psychiatric Center


    The sun shimmered through the windows and inside therge, white recreation room of the third floor


    of the institution. ck men and women, young and old, either sat at various tables or aimlessly walked


    around in their white undershirts and white pajama pants. Most of the patients wore subdued zes on


    their hopeless faces, while others spoke to themselves with their wide eyes ring all around as


    though they were expecting the voices in their individual heads to speak back to them. Calm music was


    ying on the speakers above in the ceiling. The tune was settling enough not to upset even the most


    fragile soul.


    In a far corner was one youngdy who had her weary head lying down on a small, metal table that sat


    perfectly next to one of the caged windows. Her unspoiled undershirt and pants made her appear


    almost angelic with the sunlight beaming down upon her. While her scarred and swollen hands and


    face gave off the impression that her life, or what was left of it, had all but been discarded ages ago.


    The woman rested her red scarf covered head on her left arm while listening to the other sounds carry


    on throughout the area. Her eyes were closed slightly to where she could only see a few rays of


    sunlight here and there. She was so rxed that doing something as simple as lifting her head seemed


    laborious. The woman had no desire whatsoever to react to her surroundings. Her pale face and


    chapped lips made her look as if she had just awakened from a ten yeara.


    "Okay, Lyte, why don''t we start all over again." A Jamaican speaking man said as he sat down at


    the opposite end of her table.


    Lyte remained in her usual position for at least a full minute before she finally looked up to see the


    middle-aged, balding and bearded doctor with sses seated across from her. She wiped her face of


    any excess drool right before sluggishly resting her head on her right hand and twisting her lips in a


    half-hearted fashion.


    "Now, yesterday when we met, we spoke more of dis Mr. Bushard. A man no one has even heard of.


    Today, I want to speak of de one person you seem to have de most difficulty discussing. Isaac." He


    patiently stated.


    Lyte''s face never once seemed to budge, nor did it even be distressed. She just sat and idly


    stared at the man as though he were just another person in white.


    The doctor, dressed in an all-whiteb jacket, straightened his eyesses and handed Lyte a


    sincere re before saying, "Youngdy, we really need to talk."


    "But I''ve told you about Isaac before, Doctor Cornelius." Her tongue dragged.


    "Yes, but I personally believe dat dere is someting else more pressing about dis man dan what you


    have been telling me."


    "I told you what he was."


    Shaking his head in doubt and smirking, Cornelius replied, "My dear girl, your delusions of superstitions


    and fantasies are all but mere walls dat you have used to cover up de real issue at hand."


    Lyte sat back in her chair, and with ackadaisical pout on her face she sighed, "I know exactly


    what you''re doing right now."


    "Is dat right?"


    "Yep, you''re trying to screw with my head. No matter what I tell you you''re not gonna believe me." She


    shrugged her shoulders. "I''ve been here all this time and I still can''t convince you."


    "You must understand dat the matters dat you are trying to convince me of are of a fantastic nature."


    Lyte then began to giggle to herself. "Did I mention that Isaac had to spend time in one of these


    ces, too?"


    "No, as a matter of fact you did not."


    "Yep, the whole time I thought he was out of his mind. Come to find out...he really wasn''t." She coldly


    lamented.


    "Lyte, your fianc¨¦e may be de link we need to uncover de real mystery concerning your state of


    mind."


    "My state of mind," she questioned with a belligerent sneer. "Negro, my state of mind is nowhere in this


    gxy. Ever since I''ve been here I''ve told you all that went down with me. From my bathroom, to the


    Towers, to this shitty country. Do you know what it''s like to see a person change from a man into...that?


    That''s not exactly something a person tends to forget."


    "Is dat why you requested a lobotomy?"


    "Yes!" Lyte desperately pressed her body against the table.


    Taking off his sses and gently cing them on the table, Cornelius sat and remarked, "Lyte, you


    have a son, a mother, father and sisters back home. These marvelous stories of demons, you being


    beaten up by some Englishman, seeing dead people walk around in a forest, it''s all only a barrier to a


    much deeper root dat you must deal with. Do you realize dat we once had a person in here who


    imed she was Joan of Arc? She even attempted to set herself on fire just to prove such a facy.


    How far are you willing to take your aberrations? To de point where you may never even see your


    family again?"


    Lyte sank her body down inside her chair. She turned her eyes away from the Doctor momentarily


    to look at a couple ofdies who were whispering to each other in a corner before she focused her


    attention back to Cornelius again.


    "You have no idea what I''ve been through, sir." Lyte''s tone plunged.


    Sighing, Cornelius began to say, "Lyte, we''ve been over¡ª


    "No, just hold on." She forcefully spoke in a more deep tone. "I remember ourst night together, me


    and Isaac. That man felt so damn good, even with those ugly eyes of his. I remember feeling all over


    his warm body. Him being pressed up against mine. I hate ''em, but I love him at the same time. Yes,


    I''m a slut. I also used drugs and lied to my parents. I never imagined in my wildest nightmare that this


    would be my life. I hardly even remember what my own child looks like after all this time. I don''t even


    know what the date is. Is it Thanksgiving? Christmas?" She shrugged. "But after all that I''ve went


    through, I''m not going to sit here and allow you to make me believe that I''ve lost my mind. I may be


    crazy, but I''m not that fucking crazy. I just wanna sit here...and melt away. Haven''t you ever just wanted


    to vanish out of sight? Leave this world and never return? Away from evil? Away from the scary things?


    From this day forward, I''ll be praying to God to take me away. To just let me vanish into thin air."


    Doctor Cornelius sat and stared misty-eyed at Lyte for a few moments before he put his sses


    back on and stood up and turned around to face the crowd of six men and women, all of whom were


    adorned in whiteb jackets. The studious res on each individual ck face told the stories of


    reflection and pity upon the subject they had been observing for the past few minutes or so.


    Cornelius took a pen and pad from out of his jacket''s pocket and started writing something on a page


    before he slipped it right back inside.


    "What we have here before us is an American woman, possibly between the ages of twenty and


    twenty-two, who just happens to be suffering from PTSD." Cornelius stated. "When she came to


    Jamaica and why she arrived here to begin with is still a mystery. When de patient was found she was


    badly beaten to the point where she could hardly even recall her own name. As ofte, Lyte has


    revealed a liaison with a man which ended up producing a child. A child dat was not de child of herte


    fianc¨¦e. As a result of her guilt, Lyte has chosen to indulge in hysterical delusions of shape-shifters


    terrorizing her and her hometown. Delusions dat she believes even led her to dis very ind, away


    from her family. Given her entricities, which by de way I attribute to an indulgence in cinema, I


    believe it prudent dat Lyte remain here for an indefinite time in order to evaluate her further."


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    "Doctor, you mentioned shape-shifting. What sort of shape-shifting would you be referring to exactly?"


    One of the female doctors inquired.


    Snickering, Doctor Cornelius replied, "I assure you, my friend, Hollywood has a very powerful influence


    on her society. Just think of Lon Chaney Jr. and you shall be enlightened."


    At once each and every doctor began giggling amongst themselves. Lyte, on the other hand, sat


    and watched as they all carried on, talking back and forth about her as if she weren''t there at all before


    they eventually went on their way in a tight huddle from her area.


    She sat totally still in her seat and watched others around her just wander about as though they were


    lost. In her mind she could see herself lumbering along with them,pletely adrift in her thoughts.


    Soon her right hand began trembling on the table. Lyte tried to stop it, but no matter what it would


    not cease from shaking. She then got up from the table and dragged her body over to the window


    where she looked out past the thin, ck bars and at the mist-burdened forest beyond. In her eyes the


    scenery went on seemingly forever.


    At times, while gazing out the windows of the facility Lyte would often wonder what resided within


    the forest. What was actually awaiting its chance to lurk out ande after her? The days went on


    endlessly. The nights were just as excruciating. Every time she dared look into the sky and see an


    airne pass she would always reminisce on Isaiah and just what on earth he was doing. But all of that


    was mere fairy tale.


    "There''s no such thing as a werewolf." She muttered so sadly at the foggy window. "Please tell me


    again, God. Please...tell me again."

 Chapter 48

    Chapter 48


    Spring 2019


    There was such a lukewarm breeze that blew so subtly by the cemetery thatte morning. It kept on


    flowing until it eventually settled and abided inside the quiet, spacious stretch ofnd that was home to


    various collections of tombstones and mausoleums. In the far off distance could be seen a funeral


    service being conducted, while a few people sporadically scattered in certain spots walked and toured


    the grounds in solemn contemtion. In one particr part of the grounds, underneath a budding


    maple tree, rested three gravestones. Standing tall above one of the three graves was a certain man in


    his mid-forties by the name of Isaiah.


    He had be a fairly well-built man. His thick, well-groomed dreadlocks that were tied to the back


    bristled in the breeze while his goatee seemed to itch for no apparent reason the longer he stood


    looking down. He had his hands clinched together as his knees kept buckling underneath him. Every so


    often he would push his eyesses back onto his face while taking nces to make sure he was still


    all alone in his area.


    "Even till this day I still get reports of you from various people in the family. Aunt Jackie still can''t even


    stand to hear your name being uttered." He snickered. "Every so often I''ll look at your pictures and just


    wonder what could have been." Isaiah then took a deep breath before shutting his eyes momentarily. "I


    still get these crazy images in my mind from time to time, wondering just where in the world they even


    come from. But in my life, I''vee to realize that not everyone is or was what they seemed to be, or


    were reported to be." Isaiah grinned. "I remember nces of you. You holding me, ying with me. So


    I figure if I have those recollections, then it doesn''t really matter what someone else has to say. All they


    could ever tell me was that you just up and left one day...and never returned. At least that''s what


    grandma and grandpa said. But I know for a fact that after all that I''ve been through in my life, you were


    always right there by my side. Somehow, someway, I always knew that."


    Isaiah then turned away for a second. "I can''t believe I''m even talking like this. But then again, I''d hope


    if the situation were different, I''d want my kids to say the same thing about me. So, um...that''s all I


    came by to say after all these years. Sorry it took so long toe and say it, but...I''ve never been a


    sentimental kind of guy. I just pray that you continue to rest in peace. And always know that...that I


    never hated you." Isaiah wiped his nose real quick before hearing footsteps creep up behind him. He


    composed himself and turned to see his mother walking up with her hands inside her jacket pockets.


    "Where were you all this time?" Isaiah looked strangely.


    "I was over there talking to my mama and daddy." Lyte quaintly nodded her head backwards.


    The two of them stood over the three graves for a few moments before Isaiah looked over at his mom


    and asked, "Are you okay?"


    Grinning slightly, Lyte meekly replied, "Yeah...I just can''t believe I''m here."


    "Yeah, me neither." Isaiah shrugged. "Feels like we''re in another world."


    "To you it feels like another world, but to me...its home."


    Isaiah stood next to his mother a bit longer before he kissed her on the cheek and whispered, "I''ll be


    waiting in the car."


    Lyte only smiled as the presence of her son departed from her. With her own eyesses, greying


    hair and a few wrinkles on her face that she could have done without, the woman scanned the


    graveyard from front to back before finally bringing her head about face and down to the three stones


    beneath her; from Mr. and Mrs. Mercer and eventually their son. All three markers were set perfectly


    side by side each other in a row. All Lyte could possibly do was stare at Isaac''s grave for what felt


    like an eternity. The flowing of emotions that she had been expecting hadn''t surfaced right then. She


    was absolutely calm and still.


    So still was Lyte that she couldn''t even bat an eysh. She wanted to speak out loud, but her


    mouth was immobile as was her entire body for that matter. The woman just stood until her knees


    started to wobble beneath her.


    "I...I haven''t been here since your mama died." She struggled to utter. "I didn''t evene when your


    father passed. And that really hurt me, too. But I had my reasons." She exhaled.


    "So...how have you been? Dumb question, huh? What about me? Well, when I finally got back from


    Jamaica I took Isaiah and myself and we left Cypress in 1981. This city was just falling apart back then.


    No jobs, no kind of future. We moved to Columbus and ended up doing pretty well for ourselves there. I


    got a job working as a secretary for a banking firm. Worked there in different positions for about thirty


    some odd years before I called it quits. Isaiah is a school teacher. I personally never saw that one


    coming. Raising a son on your own isn''t all it''s cracked up to be." She rolled her eyes. "Rap music,


    video games and girls. But I think he''s turned out pretty well."


    Lyte dropped her head and searched so hard to find a conversation to hold, but instead she found


    herself slipping deeper and deeper into a trance that only seemed to annoy her with every passing


    minute underneath the maple tree.


    "I...I''ve been through a few rtionships here and there." Lyte said. "I''ll admit that I wasn''t the


    model mate...or mother. Yeah, I have an attitude. And I realize that attitude has chased a lot of men


    away. But then again, I had more important things on my mind. Things like what, you ask?" She


    nodded. "Ohh...old, cold winters. Some of the old music we used to listen to. The time¡ª


    It was right then and there that Lyte caught herself and held on as tight as she could. She could


    feel it like an oing tsunami, waiting to knock her down.


    "Do you remember...no, I can''t stand here and do this." She began to whimper. "I can''t stand here and


    pretend like I''m in another world. I didn''te all the way here to babble like a fool."


    Lyte then reached into her back pants pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She unfolded the


    paper and said, "Your father, before he joined you and your mama, gave me this. "Dear Lynn, I wanted


    so much to leave when you told me what you told me. But something told me to stick around. I''m still


    pissed off at what you did. I know I''ve never been the best boyfriend to you, but damn, did I deserve


    that? But deep down, I just want you to know that I still love you. I love Isaiah too. I want to be his dad


    more than anything. I just have to deal with this the best I can. Even though he has his doubts, dad still


    doesn''t know, and I want to keep it that way. Look, we''ll deal with this the best way we can. All I can


    say to you is that I''m not perfect. I fuck up sometimes here and there. I can''t promise that I won''t fuck


    up here and there again, but I can promise that I will always love you and Isaiah. I won''t go looking for


    William. I know that''s not what you want. Just keep him away from me and there won''t be any trouble.


    Anyways, that''s all I had to say. Love Isaac.


    With the crumpled letter in her hand, Lyte looked back down at Isaac''s grave with tears in her


    eyes.


    "Isaiah met William three years ago. But I''m so sorry he never got to know his real dad better. I''m so


    sorry for it all, Isaac. I''m trying so hard to forgive myself after all these years. I keep going back and


    forth in my head who was wrong and who was right? Should I have done this? Or if you hadn''t done


    that. All I do is make myself go even crazier. No matter where I end up, it all leads back to one thing. I


    went along with the lie for so long that I actually convinced myself that Isaiah even looked like you. But


    no matter what, I always thank you for seeing him as your own."


    Lyte then dropped her arms to her side while a deadpan ze covered her face. "I just have one


    question to ask. Did all of that really happen? Till this day I can''t even speak of it. I can''t even say one


    word. Your son loves those kinds of movies, but all I do is turn away. Was it...real?" She caught her


    slipping breath. "Because if it was, then what else is real? I ask myself that question almost every day."


    Lyte exhaled as deeply as she could at that instant before saying, "I remember our final night


    together. In that bathroom, I used to wonder if you really did want to kill me. But I also recall you


    stopping."


    Lyte then reached down and ced the letter in front of Isaac''s marker. "This city has really done


    well for itself over the years. It lookspletely different. I guess all cities go through a slump every so


    often."


    She rose back up wiping her eyes along the way. "Both Jackie and Bernadette are the same; older and


    crankier. But Lavonia finally found God back in 1999. She''s an evangelist now." Lyte grinned.


    "You''ve got four grandkids. Three knuckle-head boys and one sweet little girl. Me and your daughter-in-


    law get along like two wet hens, but she at least keeps Isaiah in check, so I can''t ask for more than


    that."


    Lyte then snickered as she nced all around the graveyard. "It''s been hard all these years. I


    really don''t know what all Isaiah does and does not remember. He used to ask about certain cuts on his


    body, and all I could ever do was lie and tell him that he fell down. What else could I say?" She


    shrugged.


    "Even today I still look behind my back. I remember your father and I would sit and talk for hours about


    you. I always wondered if he really deep down knew. Or were we both too afraid to say out loud what


    we had experienced? It was never about what you and I did. It was about.


    Lyte could hardly breathe at that point. Her once motionless legs fidgeted from side to side like she


    was an anxious child who had run out of words to say. Even her hands had be mmy to where


    they felt gross. Her mouth was dry and she couldn''t stop batting her eyshes. Just standing over his


    grave gave her the queasiest sensation. She wasn''t going to vomit, but something was beginning to


    happen that she couldn''t contain any longer.


    "You...you remember Jimmy''s old roller rink?" She gulped. "That old building is long gone now. It''s now


    a grocery store. But, you once asked me a question there, and I never vocally answered you."C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    Without warning, Lyte burst out into tears at that very second. "Yes...I will marry you, Isaac!" She


    covered her mouth from speaking too loud.


    Lyte couldn''t stop crying. She stood and wept for at least four whole minutes before she took out a


    tissue and wiped her entire drenched face clean while making sure no one else was around to see her.


    "We''ll...we''ll be in town for a few more days visiting family." She coughed. "I''ll drop by and see you


    again before we leave for home."


    With a pair of red eyes and shaky legs Lyte finally turned and began walking away towards the


    parking lot. Behind her was the letter that she ced on Isaac''s marker waving back and forth in the


    wind before it was eventually swept away into oblivion.

 Chapter 49

    Chapter 49


    Seatedfortably in the passenger''s seat next to Isaiah, Lyte kept a quiet vigil all to herself.


    Inside Isaiah''s Jeep Caravan all that could be heard was the humming engine, along with the ever


    present sighing that would every so oftene from the woman''s agonizing mouth. The Cypress


    scenery passed by so vividly in Lyte''s eyes that just attempting to focus on or identify one building


    orndmark was seemingly pointless. All she really desired to do was sit and watch thendscape fly


    by. The thoughts and recollections inside of her were so jumbled that she had to ball up her fists just to


    keep from crying all over again.


    "We used to have some really cold winters here back in the day." Lyte sighed so heavily.


    Appearing rather amused, Isaiah turned to his mother. "Well, well, the dead has finally awoke." He


    smirked.


    Lyte just grinned somewhat while keeping her head to the streets. "I remember when you were a


    baby, I had to take you to the hospital in two feet of snow because you had fallen down the porch steps


    and bloodied up your knee."


    "Oh yeah, Grandma told me about that once."


    "Yep, I had to take the bus and walk a block just to get to the hospital. But then again, you were such a


    rough and tumble little boy." Lyte said. "Back then, we used to have some monster winters. Not


    these sissy one''s we have today."


    Isaiah just chuckled from his gut while asking, "Is that right?"


    ncing over at him, Lyte replied, "Sure is. These kids today don''t know what a real snowstorm is.


    We used to have Level Three''s all the time back then."


    "That, and you used to walk ten miles in the snow to school, and ten miles back home." Isaiah quipped.


    "You used to wash your clothes in the sink. You used to milk the cows before you went to bed at two


    a.m. every night."


    "Boy, you''d better stop that." Lyte giggled.


    Giggling right back, Isaiah replied, "You sound like my students." ''Mr. Glover, I didn''t do my homework


    last night because I had to walk to my grandparents'' house in the snow to get some pens.''


    "You forget that you used to make up some silly excuses yourself when you were their age, too."


    "Yeah, but I don''t remember ever using the snow as an excuse."


    Lyte just smiled and looked back out the window again. Isaiah stopped at a traffic light. Standing


    right in front of a business building was a vendor serving gyros. It was a ck man wearing a red,


    yellow and green beanie hat on his head whilethering a customer''s gyro with cucumber sauce. At


    that very instant the images inside Lyte''s brain ventured right back to the ind.


    "What''s it like being back here again after all these years?" Isaiah suddenly asked as he resumed


    driving.


    Lyte not only snapped back to life, her body also shook in her seat. Clearing her throat, she


    answered, "You have to understand, this city looks familiar, but different in so many ways."


    "I ask that because your eyes are still swollen from the graveyard." Isaiah kept his eyes glued to the


    road ahead. "I know that you didn''te all the way back here just to visit your sisters, nieces and


    nephews."


    Lyte looked hard at Isaiah at that point and asked, "Tell me something, son. What made you go


    and speak to Isaac today?"


    Isaiah momentarily nced over at his mother before saying, "I know he meant something very special


    to you at one time."


    "No, that''s not it." Lyte''s tone grew stern. "Why did you go and speak to that man''s grave today?


    Yes, you went to speak to your granddad Charles, but you had something to say to Isaac as well. What


    was it?"


    Isaiah sighed at that moment without once taking his eyes off of the road. "All of my life I''ve heard Aunt


    Jackie, Lavonia and Bernadette talk so harshly about him. While Grandpa Charles spoke so fondly. But


    it was you, mom, that always seemed to hold back whenever his name came up. And when you told


    me about...my real father, that''s when I started to realize just why."


    Lyte clinched her entire body at that point while twisting and turning in her seat. "I...I need for you


    to pull this thing into a parking lot or something." She began to hyperventte.


    Appearing shocked, Isaiah hastily asked, "Are you okay?"


    "Just pull into this gas station for a moment." She pointed to her immediate right.


    At once, Isaiah pulled his vehicle into the nearest filling station parking lot and stopped. He then


    unbuckled his belt and attended to his mother.


    "Mom, what''s the matter?" He panted.


    Lyte took her son''s hand and squeezed so tightly. Trying to catch her breath, she looked deep into


    the man''s eyes and held on.


    "That''s not why I held back talking about Isaac all these years. If you were to ask me why I cheated on


    him, I honestly couldn''t give you a rational response. Isaac was, and still is, my very first love. We met


    each other way back in the sixth grade. We met at a food fight, of all ces. But as time went on, we


    went through the ups and downs of being in a rtionship. Sometimes we loved so hard, and


    sometimes we hated so hard."


    Lyte couldn''t help but to hold onto Isaiah''s hand as tight as she could, as though she felt she was


    going to be swept away had she not.


    "One time, however, in one of our hateful moments, I turned away from him, and ran to another man. It


    pained me so much to have to tell Isaac what I did, but we went on...pretending that it didn''t even take


    ce. I loved Isaac so very much."


    Gripping his mother''s hand right back, Isaiah asked, "How is it that you can love a man that nearly


    killed both you and I? All I''ve ever heard from the family all my life was how he almost wiped us out.


    And yet, you sit here telling me how much you loved him. I don''t understand that, mom. I don''t


    understand why you had me drive you to see him. Why you were there bawling over him."


    Lyte withdrew her hand from her son''s and sat back in her seat. The woman exhaled as hard as


    she could. She had words stored within her for the past forty some odd years, and yet, at the most


    inopportune time she had lost the nerve to express any of them properly. It didn''t surprise her, however.


    "Do you remember when I went to Jamaica?"


    "Yeah," Isaiah nodded.


    "I didn''t go there for drug rehab, or for some stupid vacation. I went to take care of something very


    important." She sat back. "Yes, I was gone for a number of years, but it was in those years that I was


    allowed to get my soul correct. I went down there because I knew that no one else on God''s


    could or would take care of it."


    "Take care of what, mom?" Isaiah replied agitated. "Why still after all these years are you being so


    elusive with me? I''m a full grown man, for God''s sake!"


    Tears began dribbling down Lyte''s face right then. "Isaac...Isaac was very sick. But it wasn''t his


    fault. He hurt you and I, and yet, it still wasn''t his fault. I''ve learned throughout time that there are very


    ugly forces in this world that¡ª


    "Okay, mom, I can''t take this anymore." Isaiah tossed up his hands in a frustrated manner.


    "Please listen to me!" Lyte grabbed the man by the hands and looked straight into his eyes. "From


    your youth, what do you remember the most?"


    Isaiah dropped his head in anguish before sighing, "I don''t know for sure. I remember you always


    working."


    "No, no, I mean, what scary things do you recall?"


    Isaiah pulled his head back and nced outside the windshield for a moment before staring away at


    nothing.


    "I...I remember when I was in elementary school, I always seemed to have this recurring dream or


    nightmare about...about something big with these eyes always staring at me. In the dream it was loud.


    And for some reason there was always blood surrounding me. But then again, they were just silly


    nightmares."


    Lyte couldn''t help but to gulp and drown in her own tears at that instant. She snatched her hands


    away from Isaiah''s and covered her face with them.


    "Mom, what''s going on?" He spoke more tenderly.


    N?velDrama.Org ? 2024.


    Pulling her hands away from her face, Lyte said, "I remember when I was down in Jamaica, there


    was this little boy named Leo. He was such a lonely little boy. He always reminded me of you. I think


    that''s why I gravitated towards him so. I always saw you being just like him; lonely and isted from


    your mother. I often wonder what became of him."


    Lyte watched as Isaiah fidgeted about in his seat while trying not to lock eyes with her. She knew


    that she had his attention, but she wanted to see his face more than anything.


    "I know you hated me for the way I''ve been all these years towards you. But I want you to know that


    everything I did, I did to protect you."


    Spinning around, Isaiah said out loud, "You think I hated you all these years? I never hated you! I hated


    the way you kept pushing and pushing me away! For years you always made me feel as though I


    wasn''t allowed inside your life! I never hated you, you''re my mother! I hated that I never felt like your


    son!"


    Lyte couldn''t help but to burst out into uncontrolled tears. Isaiah followed in kind; expect his


    emotion was more subdued.


    "I don''t even know why we''re even here." Isaiah wiped his runny nose. "I feel like everything is crashing


    in on us all at once. Like it''s one thing after another."


    "That''s why I''m so d your Aunt Lavonia came to Christ and is doing what she''s doing." Lyte


    blurted out. "I knew God was always with me all those years. And I know that I wasn''t the mother you


    needed, but Lavonia helped me so much get to Jesus. That''s why I try so hard to get you, Brianna and


    the kids toe to church. I want you all to know God like I do, and¡ª


    "Mom, you have to understand, us going to church isn''t going to change the fact that there''s still and


    always will be something that you''re not telling me about that man." Isaiah remarked. "I truly do believe


    with all my heart that you''re going to take whatever happened years ago with you to your grave. And to


    be honest, I can live with that. But please, quit making him out to be some sort of lost love. You stayed


    away from Cypress all these years because of him, I know it."


    "Son, I don''t care what your aunts used to say about Isaac. All three of them were evil assholes way


    back then. I knew him, and I loved him. Out of all of the dangerous people that I once knew, Isaac was


    the one that...that never wanted to harm me. And he certainly never wanted to harm you. He loved you


    more than anything." Lyte then reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue before wiping her


    wet face with it. "I wanted you and I toe here as mother and son for the sole purpose of putting our


    spirits to rest."


    The car sat perfectly quiet right then. Neither Lyte nor Isaiah had anything to say to the effect. They


    both just watched as people either pumped their gas into their various vehicles or walked into the


    station''s lobby.


    "Why did you wait all these years to do it?" Isaiah uttered under his breath.


    Exhaling, Lyte stated, "I don''t know for sure. I guess I got tired of ying pretend anymore."


    Isaiah sat and fiddled with his fingernails while muttering, "Do you know what drove Isaac to hurt you


    the way he did? I mean, he did cut off your finger after all."


    Lyte looked over at Isaiah with a sullen frown on her worn face and responded, "Son...there are


    some questions that can only be answered as time travels by. Let time travel some more, please."


    Isaiah kept on twiddling his fingers like an adolescent before he lifted his head, bit down on his lip and


    said, "I do thank Christ for you. And I figure if you''ve been holding a candle all these years for him, then


    he must''ve meant a lot to you."


    Immediately, Lyte pulled Isaiah to her and hugged the very life out of him. Both of them held on for


    ceaseless minutes before finally letting go. Isaiah took off his eyesses and wiped his eyes while


    Lyte used yet another tissue to dry her saturated face.


    "I was watching this documentary on The History Channel." Lyte remarked.


    Chuckling, Isaiah said, "If it''s not some documentary, then it''s The Lifetime Network or N.C.I.S. for you."


    Lyte yfully pinched Isaiah''s arm before remarking, "As I was saying. I was watching this


    documentary about this Jewish woman who went back to one of those death camps that Hitler set up


    way back when. I thought about how haunting it must have been for her to go back there after all that


    had taken ce."


    "Yeah, it was pretty messed up what happened to them." Isaiah turned away and sniffed.


    Gritting her teeth as hard as she could, Lyte asked, "Can I get you to do one more thing for me,


    please?"

 Chapter 50

    Chapter 50


    The scenery, at least in Lyte''s eyes, was drastically changing. She honestly could no longer tell just


    where in the city she was. On one hand, it made her feel somewhat relieved that Cypress was no


    longer under the hex of economic and social copse, on the other, however, after so many years, not


    being able to recognize one street after another only made her realize that not only could she and


    Isaiah be lost, but that perhaps her moving to another city may have been ill-advised altogether.


    "Mom, the GPS is going haywire." Isaiah poked an irritated finger at the digital console inside his


    vehicle''s dashboard. "West 7th is around here somewhere, but this thing keeps telling us 100 yards.


    We''reing up on 100 yards and all I see is 5th Blvd."


    Lyte said nothing; she just held her breath in anticipation of something, anything. She watched in


    dread as the numbers on the street posts changed until "the" right one appeared right before her


    skittish eyes.


    "Right there," her shaky right index finger dreadfully pointed at 7th Blvd.


    "Finally," Isaiah huffed as he turned right on the road.


    Lyte saw the sign as they entered onto the Blvd that read Eastern Estates on a pristine all white


    board that was posted right at the corner. The woman gawked from one side of the street to the other


    where one floor cottages all resided. There were white people of varying ages either walking or jogging


    up and down the freshly paved sidewalks. Shavedwns and colorful flower beds made for a picture


    perfect, unrecognizablendscape, while expensive vehicles sat idly by in front of the homes.


    "Stop here." Lyte''s tongue fumbled.


    On a dime, Isaiah stopped the jeep right in front of a specific home. All around could be heard birds


    chirping and a couple of dogs barking in a nearby distance. Isaiah couldn''t help but to sit and watch his


    bbergasted mother soak in thevish atmosphere.


    "I can tell by the paleness in your face that this neighborhood looks a whole lot different than it did way


    back then." He smirked at his mom.


    Lyte couldn''t even answer at first, she just sat with her mouth wide open and her eyes bugged out


    like she was visiting another.


    Clearing her dry throat, she replied, "Back then, the only time we saw white people in this


    neighborhood was when the police drove by."


    Looking past her, Isaiah pointed and asked, "Is that where we first lived?"


    Lyte gradually turned her head and muttered ever so softly, "Yeah. Yeah it was. Of course it didn''t


    look like this back then either."


    "I can imagine."


    Lyte couldn''t move. She couldn''t even sweat. She was freezing cold from her head all the way


    down to the soles of her feet. She figured she would have been a mountain of emotion, but just sitting


    in her seat was all she could do.


    "Thest time we were here, you had a sinus infection." She stated with her eyes still directed at the


    home. "I had to walk all the way down to the corner store, in the freezing cold morning, just to get you


    some medicine."


    Isaiah leaned back in his seat as his eyes shifted back and forth, from the house and to his mother.


    Then, without any kind of thought whatsoever, Lyte pulled thetch on the door and proceeded to


    get out.


    "You''re going in there?" Isaiah blurted out in astonishment.


    But Lyte didn''t reply. She simply began walking towards the house like a led zombie. Isaiah got out


    on the other side and shut her door behind him before taking off in the rear.


    "Mom, are you okay?" He whispered into her ear.


    Lyte would not answer. She kept walking and walking until she met up with the porch where she


    stepped up the stairs and finally stopped short of the front door.


    All of the sudden, everyone and everything around her were no longer present. It was just her and the


    pearly white door with the golden knocker in the center. Lyte stood for at least two whole minutes


    before her eyes caught sight of the doorbell down to the right of her. Once more, her thought process


    was vacant. She just pressed the button and waited. Beyond the door she could hear footstepsing


    closer and closer. That was when she began to shake. The door swung open to reveal a young,


    bearded, white man in a pair of shorts and a white undershirt.


    "Can I help you?" He asked.


    "I...I''m here." Lyte struggled to say. "I mean...I''m sorry. My name is Lyte Glover. I know this is


    gonna sound strange, but, I used to live in this exact house way back in the seventies."


    Appearing amused, the man remarked, "Really?"


    "Yes, sir," she held her breath. "This here is my son, Isaiah." She pointed behind her. "We didn''te


    to bother you or intrude; I would just like to take a moment to see inside, if that''s alright with you."


    The man carefully studied both Lyte and Isaiah before he smiled and nodded. "Sure, c''mon in," he


    stood aside.


    With as much energy and bravery as she could umte, Lyte stepped inside the clean smelling


    home.


    "Oh, we havepany." A young, perky, white woman appeared from out of the kitchen.


    "This is my wife, Leia. And by the way, my name is Austin."


    "It''s good to meet you both." Lyte smiled from ear to ear.


    "This is Lyte and Isaiah." Austin presented. "They used to live here years ago."


    "Is that right?" Leia, with an oven mitt on her right hand asked. "We actually moved in here two years


    ago when they built the Estates."


    "Yeah, it''s pretty nice here." Austin added. "What was it like back then?"


    But Lyte was too enthralled with the chic living room that appeared two sizes bigger than what she


    once remembered.


    "Oh, I''m sorry." Lyte caught herself. "Well, to tell you the truth, it was a dump way back then." She


    giggled. "This whole city was that way. You guys are lucky to have been born when you were."


    With a pair of cement feet Lyte stepped through the living room, not wanting to prance too hard


    upon the pure white carpet on the floor. Austin, Leia and Isaiah all stood and watched as the woman


    carried on in a trance-like state across the house as though not one of them were even there.


    "You''ll have to forgive my mother." Lyte could hear her son speak. "It''s been years since she''sst


    been in Cypress."


    Lyte first went into the newly remodeled kitchen that had been lengthened to twice its original size.


    She passed by the two boiling pots on the stove on her way to the backdoor. She looked through the


    ss to find that the old shed that once rested in the middle of the backyard was no longer in sight.


    From there she happened to nce down at the floor to see the basement doortch gone as well.


    Once she had had enough of the kitchen she made her way back into the living room only to venture


    down the hallway and to the one and only bedroom. The door was wide open, but she didn''t bother to


    go inside. She just stood and looked at the perfectly made king sized bed and sma TV mounted on


    the wall in front of it.


    Still, Lyte could hear absolutely nothing. For all she knew everyone could have ran out on her and


    she would have never known it. She wanted to turn around, but something was preventing her from


    doing so. Lyte fought against the force until she was able to twist her head to the left to spot one


    more room on the tour. She stood and stared down the hallway at one closed door. Lyte was


    determined not to stand around and allow fear and hesitation to cause her to wait. It had been 42


    years, there was nothing more to wait for.


    The woman turned her immobile body around and slowly marched down the hallway until she finally


    came face to face with the bathroom door. Her right hand was trembling as it reached out for the knob.


    With her shaking hand she twisted and turned the knob until it unlocked and opened. At once, a rush of


    fragrant heat sted Lyte right in the face. It was so vicious that it nearly caused her to stumble


    over. Yes, the bathroom was still the smallest, mostpact room inside the house.


    The toilet and tub, while brand new, were still positioned in the same ces they had been years


    earlier. All around were men''s and women''s personal hygiene products, as well as a small picture of


    Austin and Leia posing in front of Niagara Falls posted on the wall.


    But all Lyte could seem to focus upon was the floor. By then, her entire body was shaking so hard


    that her right foot started to tap on the linoleum. A few beads of sweat began to form upon her


    forehead, and her teeth were beginning to hurt. Lyte just couldn''t take her eyes off of the floor. She


    tried and tried, but the longer she stared, the more the images started to appear. From one end to the


    other blood, a baby, a detective and a thing was all around her. She recalled what Isaiah had


    mentioned about something big and loud. In her quivering eyes she could see it on the floor reaching


    out for her.


    "Mom, are you okay in there?" Isaiah said out loud.


    Lyte shut her eyes and inhaled the fresh linen scent from the de plug-in that was fumigating the


    room.


    "Yeah...here Ie!" She cleared her voice.


    Lyte tightened her lips and balled up her fists before shutting her eyes for five seconds and re-


    opening them to find the tormenting image all but gone.


    "Goodbye, Isaac." She whispered so pitifully as she turned and walked out of the bathroom, shutting


    the door behind her.


    The instant Lyte reached the living room she found all three persons still standing in the ces


    they had been since she first left.


    "This is gonna sound real weird, but, I, uh, I was just wondering if you two had ever experienced


    anything...unusual, since living here." Lyte sort of snickered.


    Both Austin and Leia gave each other odd, and amused nces before Leia looked back at Lyte


    and replied, "No, nothing that would cause an rm, I guess."


    Nodding her head in approval, Lyte said, "Good. I''m d to know that." She then exhaled with a


    smile, "Well, I''d like to thank you both for allowing me to intrude on you."


    "It''s no intrusion at all." Austin smiled back. "We''re always d to havepany over."


    "We''ll be leaving now." Lyte remarked as she took Isaiah''s hand into her own and started towards


    the front door.


    "I miss 1977. Don''t you?" Someone''s voice all of the sudden spoke.


    Lyte stopped short of the door and spun around. "I''m sorry, what did you say?"


    Both Austin and Leia once more gawked at each other strangely before Austin responded, "Uh...we


    didn''t say anything."


    Lyte just nervously grinned before opening the door and walking out. The two strolled hand in hand


    to the jeep where Isaiah opened the door for his mother and helped her inside. As Isaiah got in on his


    side Lyte couldn''t help but to keep her eyes steadily trained on her former home.


    "Well, was it all that you imagined?" Isaiah questioned as he cut on the jeep and pulled away from the


    curb.


    Just as Lyte was about to answer, she suddenly felt something warm drizzle down out of her right


    nostril. With the tip of her finger she dabbed at her nose and examined her finger to discover traces of


    blood.


    Lyte turned to the street ahead of her and continued to grin, "No...I quit imaging things a long time


    ago."


    Leaving


    I left my parents. I left my son. I left my city and my country. I left Isaac. I left everyone behind...even


    myself.


    Now, I''m leaving again, to never return. I have nothing more to say beyond this...please, God, don''t


    ever let me return.


    Ever again...C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.

 Chapter 51

    Chapter 51


    Epilogue


    "Okay, and wee back to another episode of Kurt''s World. I, of course, am your host, Kurt


    Anderson. Thanks for tuning in to this, my sixteenth video.


    Now, onst week''s video I did a documentary on the infamous Ind of Dolls. Then the missing and


    abandoned cargo ship that was found wrecked in the Antic back in 1979.


    Not to toot my own horn, but I got a lot of likes for my episode of the creepy clown in Illinois a year ago.


    Yeah, a lot of people seemed to get a real jolt out of that one. I appreciate all the love and support for


    my channel, everyone.


    But, today I thought I''d take a break from the norm and touch on a subject that, to be perfectly honest,


    really shocked the heck outta me. Out of all of the research that I do on a daily basis, this story I


    stumbled upon recently really took me by surprise. And believe me when I say, I never saw this one


    coming. This particr story actually took ce right here in my own hometown of Cypress, Ohio, way


    back in the 1970''s. 1977 to be exact.


    Like I said, I''m gonna take a little detour to fill you, my viewers, in on something really bizarre. And


    when you hear it, you won''t believe it. Trust me, I''m still having a hard time trying to believe it myself,


    and I was born and raised here in Cypress.


    Where do I begin? Well, way back in 1977, a rash of brutal animal yings urred here; several in


    Cuyahoga County, as well as numerous ones here in town. What makes this really amazing is that no


    one till this very day talks about this. I had to actually go down to the library and do some extensive


    research just to get all the info I needed.


    Mind you, both my parents and grandparents were born and raised here in Cypress and they don''t


    even talk about it. I feel like this is a Freddy Krueger scenario; the more people don''t discuss it, the less


    likely he''ll show up.


    But anyways, way back in 1977, apparently there was this kidnapper guy who ended up getting what


    he deserved and more when some giant animal broke into his home and tore him limb from limb. Then


    the thing went and killed some family just down the road from where the kidnapper once lived. Then, a


    few monthster, in the summer of that same year, more of these animals appeared and started killing


    people all over again. They even managed to kill some folks at my old high school.


    Don''t get me wrong, we kids heard of little fairy tales here and there about someone getting murdered


    inside that old school, but I never imagined it was for real!


    Then the things attacked a women''s shelter and a roller rink before the cops finally found their hideout.


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    There''s a whole lot of craziness that took ce with this, including some ck guy getting killed, racial


    tensions and the mayor''s sons selling drugs. But one of the things that''s really messed up is that these


    things even killed kids. They didn''t spare anyone or anything. It''s really a tragic story, and you can


    check out the entire video and investigation when you click on the box on the top right hand corner of


    your screen.


    But I just think that it''s stunning to know that after all my life living in this town, I just recently happened


    upon all of this. I''ve read reports of these things being really big. I mean giant grizzly bear big. How can


    something that size get away with so much mayhem?


    Apparently there were a lot of conspiracy theorists back then who believed it was this and it was that.


    But let''s face it, it was the neen-seventies. Those people also believed that smoking while pregnant


    was okay. But just to know that this was under my nose the entire time is just amazing.


    I asked my grandmother about this and she said she remembered everyst bit of it. She said that she


    even remembered the towers where the animals were holed up at, and how they were all torn down


    right after the things escaped.


    But what''s really frightening is that as strangely as it all began, was just as bizarre as it all ended. No


    one had ever heard from the things ever again after that crazy year. Some people said in old interviews


    that they believed Cypress was under a curse or something. Or that someone had let some zoo


    animals escape.


    But just to think, all of the videos that I''ve done, added to all the other videos that are out there already


    of Bigfoot and other giant and strange beasts roaming the earth, it happened right here! Every time I


    think about it I get goose bumps! Heck, I even grew up about two blocks away from the very house


    where the ck guy was shot and killed!


    But that''s pretty much it in a nutshell, everyone. The Cypress Murders of 1977, as I like to call it. Take a


    look at the documentary; it''s about forty-five minutes long. It goes over all the investigations and


    yings from each town and murder site. Tell me what you think.


    Oh well, that''s gonna do it for me today. Check back next week when I take a look at the haunted cave


    in Jamaica that not even National Geographic will go near.


    That''ll do it for this episode of Kurt''s World. Be sure to like, share and subscribe."


    The End...


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!