Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-29033146-20160714170804

I'm trying to create a deletion appeal. I'm sure the story didn't meet the standards due to capitlization for emphasis. I don't know whether to remove the elipses I've used. I feel they are important to how the dialogue is spoken. I've uncapitlized specific dialogue, however, when posted onto this site, the indents didn't show, so I don't know if that was an autocorrect or not (as I know the rules say to remove the indents), and I can't seem to uncenter the text towards the end of the story.

I'm also new to this site, so I hope I've posted this correctly...

__________________________________________________________________ “Welcome back.”

A male voice startled me back to Earth once I noticed coffee being poured into a clean mug on my table. I must have blanked out or had been staring into space again. It took me a little time to recollect my thoughts on where I was: A diner. I was sitting near the window in a booth with another in front and behind. The city rain was drizzling on the glass surface as the sounds of the town were nearly drowned out by the soft thunder.

“You okay, Clarisse? I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like hell’s been riding on your back.”

I glanced up at this full-grown male with curly, brown hair and green eyes. I can tell he had a partially muscular build under the uniform he wore. I wasn’t sure what he was playing at, or why he was even speaking with me.

“I’m…s-sorry. What? I-I…don’t…Who are you?” I stumbled over my words, still feeling the shakiness of my restlessness.

He gave me a bit of stern look as though he was trying to figure me out. Or perhaps he was just disappointed that I didn’t know his name.

“Greg.” He responded in such a monotone. “My name is Greg. I figured you’d know that by now. You sit in the same seat, ask for the same coffee, and tip with the same money every morning.”

I looked down at my newly-filled coffee mug, shaking my head tiredly. My black hair was messily tied up in bun with a few loose strands hanging by my ears. My eyes were sensitive to the lighting in the diner, but it was tolerable enough to keep me in here. As hard as I worked, it seemed as though I was allergic to sleep. Something I hardly remember doing last night. “I’m s-sorry. I’m terrible with faces.”

“That’s not an ideal trait for a woman of your profession.”

“Profession?” I questioned curiously.

“Clarisse, really? The investigation thing? The victims?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Right…that.”

With another thought, I remembered my freelance motives. I was taking on the role of a private investigator, with researching on the mysterious abductions that were taking place in this town. My town: Meadowbrook. It was a small area of easygoing people and fair-good fun. At least that’s how things used to be. Lately, during the last few days, it’s been filled to the brim with paranoid and protective townsfolk, but it’s not like I could blame them. There was something covered in this place like dark wool, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it personally. I won’t say it was like a calling, but oddly enough, personal…is how it felt.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You good?” Greg continued to stand before me with a look of concern, and still holding the coffee pot in his hand.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I gazed up at him, reassuring him with a nod. “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I mostly wanted to ask about the case. How is it going?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I hesitated because of his question. Even my own thoughts weren’t keeping up with me. “It’s going…” I stated. “I intend to cover a lot of ground this morning. Last night was--”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Yeah, I heard about it on the news early this morning before work.” Greg interrupted.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I froze for only a brief moment of his input. My eyes were looking up to him for information. “W-What?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You didn’t hear? You gotta open your eyes Clarisse. Three people were abducted yesterday evening. They’ve been found at Peachstone Park at the crack of dawn.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“They…they have?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You’re the investigator, yet I’ve picked up a little more information than you have.” Greg chuckled at his statement, but only briefly due to the sensitivity of the topic.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I however, hardly believed what I was hearing. “What are their names? Who are they?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Greg looks up to the ceiling with a slightly winced eye, as if shuffling through his memory to answer the question. "I do recall it was a man and two teens. The teens were related, but the man was someone I didn’t recognize. All three Caucasian.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Do you recognize the teens at least?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Hardly. You can research the news at home and look them up I guess. It’s breaking news, so I’m sure you’ll see it again. Anyway, it’s been nice chatting, but I’ve got work to get back to. You know? More mugs to fill.” Greg turns to walk off as I was left there in my booth.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My head was buzzing by this point. Another returned abduction. What the hell was going on in this town? What kind of kidnapper returns their victims? And for what reason? I took out seven dollars and fifty cents and left it on the table next to my untouched coffee. I had to leave. There was more work to be done. I grabbed my short, beige-colored trench coat to put on with a plaid scarf, and took my umbrella from my booth before I walked towards the exit of the diner.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Meadowbrook. What used to be such a lively place, despite the rain and clouded cold weather. People were still walking the streets which was enough to prove that life still went on, despite the abductions. I opened my umbrella and started walking down the town’s sidewalk. I noticed a newspaper box on the way. Naturally out of curiosity, I opened the lid to take a paper out and read the headline: Abductor takes Again: Man and Teens Found near Park.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I was certain this would help in my investigation. If I could locate those who’ve just been found, they’d have fresh information for me. Hopefully they’d be willing to talk. I walked over to the side of the diner I’ve just exited out of to get to the parking lot where my car was. I pulled out the keys from my pocket to get in, but just as I was doing so, police sirens, accompanied by the one of a fire truck, alarmed the area out of nowhere. I nearly jumped out of my skin with a choked gasp, and dropped the paper I was holding onto the wet pavement. I hurriedly picked it up before turning my attention to see what was going on.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Three police cars and a fire truck parked over to the front of the diner I was just in. Townspeople, who were nearby and a little bit distant away, came over to witness a surprising scene. I wasn’t sure myself of what was happening, but it had to be urgent to involve these vehicles. I jogged over to the front of the diner. Two police men set yellow barriers for the public to keep the area clear as the firemen worked together to grab and pull along a huge pad towards the diner building. My eyes followed them with careful detail. Something like that is usually used when—

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“She’s gonna jump!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Help her!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“She’s lost it!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My concentration was further alarmed when I heard outbursts from the small crowd of people. I looked to the three-story roof to see a woman on top. What was she doing there? How and when did she get up there? She was wearing a peach-colored night gown with sleeves, but it appeared worn out and smudged in dirt. Her hair was blonde, messy, and wet along with the rest of her body. If jumping didn’t kill her, I’m sure the cold will. She was shaky, and appeared numb in the eyes. Even her body language looked so convinced to just jump right over the edge.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I got a better look by standing closer to one of the barriers and in front of a few people. Was she really going to do it? Who was this woman?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Stand clear!” A policeman shouted.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The firemen moved the large pad coordinately with the woman’s movements. Though, oddly enough, she didn’t actually move. She just stood there, frozen. Numb as I’ve mentioned before. Was she there? I’ve moved my umbrella back a little to bear the rain against my face for a better sight at this event. It wasn’t until the woman’s head and eyes moved over to the crowd that was watching her.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Who is she?” I asked aloud. Hoping someone had an answer. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“N-Noooooooooooooooooo!!!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My head switched over to the building where the woman was standing. She belted out a loud shriek that caught the public’s attention far more than earlier. That solid shriek seemed to echo for miles.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Nooo! No! No! No! NO!” Her tone was cracked, but you could tell she was old in age. She was probably in her late thirties. She wept from the top of the building as the chilled wind blew from behind her. Almost enticing her to make a bad decision. She didn’t seem to react to it even with how little clothing she was wearing. She was even still in her bed slippers. “I won’t! I WON’T!!!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">What was going on? What happened to her?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">She sobbed in more cracked tones as her eyes filled with cold tears. As I watched, I felt a strange pull from her eyes as she looked over to the crowd. Why did it feel as though she was looking directly at me? The direct sight was vague, but still. Who was she really talking to?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it! You hear me!? I've seen it! You won't take me back!!!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The crowd grew quiet, not really understanding what this woman was going on about. Whatever she’s been through prior to this must have really been terrible. I couldn’t imagine. Perhaps it was domestic violence? I couldn’t really see if there was any damage to her from this view.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you. I. Hate. Yooooooou!!!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">It was by this moment I felt a little sick in my stomach. To see a human behave this way on the edge of probable death was enough to make the sensible feel a dose of guilt. What the fuck happened? A police officer, who made his way up to the roof, quietly snuck up behind the woman and attempted to grab her body. She felt the tug on her arm and instantly thrashed herself to pull away.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Get off! Get off! You're not taking me back!!!” She screamed out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I can only assume this was difficult because of the effects of a leather jacket and human skin weren’t good in this weather condition. The woman slipped from the officer and plunged off the roof!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The crowd and I gasped in horror to see her fall! I clasped my mouth as my eyes followed her down the building. My instincts wanted to throw me over to the barriers to catch her, but I knew better to let the firemen do their job. The woman landed on the padding just fine with a soft thump. Or maybe she wasn’t fine. I think she landed wrong with her head nearly being first to land.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The three policemen on this level scrambled onto the padding and restrained the woman and even gave her a blanket to wrap around her. I figured she’d be unconscious, but her lungs still appeared to function after a near tragedy.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Stop! Stop! Please, let me go! I can’t go back! I can’t go back!” She thrashed and struggled against the police and resisted with what little strength she had left in her. It was only seconds before she tired herself out against three policemen. She only sobbed and weakly allowed herself to be escorted in the rain. It seems like they were guiding her to the back of that ambulance that had arrived not too long ago.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I moved from my position to get a better look at this woman. Still keeping just in front of the barriers, I walked closer to the ambulance. I was a little shocked to witness this woman’s true, broken appearance. Apart from her dirtied and wet hair and apparel, her skin appeared to have been bruised and her cheek was swollen up good. She even had cuts here and there, but something else stood out the most. One of her hands was sticking out as she kept the blanket over her cold body. This only hand that I could see for myself had a blood-dried hole in it. Yes, it was small, but there was a fucking hole in her hand. Why? And worst of all, why was it so familiar to me--?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Welcome back.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">There was another light jump from my body when my concentration was broken. It was then I realized that the very woman I was observing looked over at me. The sounds around me were drowning out as I could only focus on her. It was if we were having a personal moment. It was so odd. I felt frozen and desperate for unknown reasons. She continued to stare at me so blankly from the one statement she’s given me. Welcome back? She smiled innocently at me as she was still being escorted to the ambulance which appeared to be very slowly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I’m sorry father, for I have failed...”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The statement trailed off so sadly. That smile of innocence no longer being prominent on her face. It was replaced with more cold tears that stained her reddened cheeks. My heart thumped harder as I felt a chill down my spine. What did she mean? Was I right about domestic violence? No…that can’t be. She looked to be almost forty…Or…maybe it carried on for this long. I had this urge inside me to figure out more, but soon reality set in once she entered the back of the ambulance and the doors shut. No! I had to get more info. Maybe this related to the abductions. She’s probably a victim.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I hurried over to my black sedan on the side of the diner so I could follow that ambulance to wherever it was going. Whether a clinical hospital or a mental one. I opened the driver door and closed my umbrella before getting inside. Keeping out as much rain as possible, I closed the door and tossed the newspaper I was carrying under my arm to the back seat. However, my ear caught a sound that was off with putting a newspaper against a fabric seat. I turned my head to see…what appeared to be…glass? My whole body turned a bit more to understand what the hell I was looking at. I moved the paper to see tiny glass shards all over the seating that was behind mine. Upon closer inspection, the glass shards were from a broken window. My back window!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“What the fuck!?” I shouted in aggravation. “Who broke my window!?” I hurriedly got out my car and pushed the door open further with my foot. I was beyond pissed. A broken window was the last thing I needed right now, and it was raining. I opened the back door only to realize that it wasn’t even locked…or maybe I unlocked it just now. I inspected the window and backseat and saw something I didn’t pick up just a moment ago. Lying on the flooring of the backseat was…a white cross. It was about half a foot in length. “What is this doing here?” I wondered.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I didn’t dare to touch it with my hands right now, but I could tell it was made of a marble material because of how shiny of a rock it appeared. There also seemed to be blood smeared on the bottom of it as well. This blood…What the hell happened? I looked for more red colors while I was back here, but remembered I was short on time. I could only see that there were little spots of the same liquid on the seat and even on the window itself. When did this get here and why haven’t I noticed before? Did someone throw this cross to rob my car? There wasn’t anything in it worth taking. I shook my head and returned to the driver seat. Whatever I planned to do about this, I couldn’t worry about it now, or I’ll lose the lead I have in that ambulance. After taking out my keys, I cranked up my car, which didn’t take long, and pulled out of the parking lot to catch up to that ambulance. It was a little tricky since I had to follow traffic laws, but it was a good thing this town was small.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I followed the sirens to what appeared to be a sort of clinical hospital. Good. So this woman wasn’t crazy. It was certain I’d get answers if they let me talk to her. It really sucked that I didn’t even have a name. I parked as close to the general hospital as possible and exited out the car as quickly as I could. I didn’t bother with my umbrella this time and just hurried to the ER. I arrived minutes after the ambulance, but I was still hopeful to get somewhere.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">To my dismay, there was a line at the triage help desk, and at least five people were ahead of me. I didn’t have time for this. If there was a real emergency, this was certainly one to me. I casually moved away from the thin ropes that marked the line and walked outside of it to get to the front desk. I had to be assertive. It was a key method.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Excuse me.” I forced myself as politely as possible between a guest and the front desk.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Ma’am, I understand you need help, but you have to wait in line like everyone else.” The front desk female explained to me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You actually don’t understand. I need—“

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Can you please wait in line? I need my pills!” Another woman said to me in irritation.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I pressed on with my matters regardless. I just needed to be faster. “Just one quick question and I’m out of your hair. Where is the woman who was just emitted into this hospital?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Ma’am, there are several women who were just emitted.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I mean just now. Not even six minutes ago. By ambulance.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I can’t disclose any names even if I knew. And there hasn’t been an ambulance here in the last six minutes.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“What? I just—“

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Move! I’m sick.” The elder woman was trying to shove me away from the window.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Hang on!” I asserted. My pressing eyes looked at the front desk. “Listen, there was an older woman who almost committed suicide, and was taken by ambulance to this hospital. Where is she? It’s urgent that I see her.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I’ve already told you that there hasn’t been an ambulance yet. I don’t want to have to call security.” She urged.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I gritted my teeth from behind my closed lips before moving away from the front desk. That couldn’t be true. Did I come to the wrong place? My thoughts were cut short from the new sounds of alarms from an ambulance that was approaching the hospital. There they were!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I exited the glass doors to see the unfortunate victim as the truck was backing up before coming to a stop.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Clear the area! Code 1! Code 1” The paramedics hollered protocol as they jumped out the opened doors of the truck and pulled out the victim as quickly as they could. This was a good chance for me to keep up.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">As I peered with desperation for answers, I only soon realized that this victim was a black male. I was puzzled for a long time as I felt the realization of a cold trail. No…this wasn’t right. Where is the woman from before? Was she really not here? My teeth gritted harder in frustration. That damn window I inspected slowed me down. My head lifted up as though a light went off in my head. My damn seats were going to be soaked! I hurried back to my car, and just decided to go home for now.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">After some time, I eventually pulled into the driveway of my two-story home in the Greenvine neighborhood. It was a nice and quiet place, except during the weekends when the college kids would have a little too much fun during the late parts of the night. Nowadays, that wasn’t a thing after the continuous abductions. Most people just stayed in their homes. I parked my car into the garage, seeing how the rain wasn’t letting up any time soon as expected. I unlocked the doors and stepped out after pressing the button to let the garage door down. I couldn’t help but analyze the window again. The rain had done well in washing the blood away from the window, but not that much with the inside. Where did this blood come from?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I opened the back door and used the sleeve of my coat to pick up the cross from the flooring. I mean, of all objects to break in with, why a white, marble cross? Were they trying to give this to me as some sort of sick joke? I sighed to myself and entered through the garage door to enter my home.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I spent some time, cleaning myself up and getting into dry and warmer clothing. I put on some loose, black sweatpants and socks, a white camisole and a long-sleeved, grey sweater. I didn’t dare let down my black hair. This mess was doing just fine in the bun. Satisfied with my attire, I sat on the brown couch in my small living room while looking over that newspaper I got from the vending box. I still wanted some info on the story…um…Michael…had told me. Or whatever his name was, I can’t remember. As I was planning to read, I grabbed the TV remote and switched onto one of the news stations for anything useful. I kept my ears open as I multi-tasked with scanning over the paper.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">From what I was gathering, the two teens and male who were missing were found at separate spots in the park. Both were only missing the day before and returned yesterday evening. They are currently in care and custody to be questioned for their disappearances. I peered closer at the photos of the victims. Even I could tell something was off about what I was seeing. I know they’ve been abducted but still. The way they’re looking at the photographing camera was telling a longer story than the article itself. I want to know what happened to them and what they might’ve seen.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My listening ears detected there was nothing relative happening on this news station, so I flipped the channels to a different one. Nope. Nothing here either. Oh wait…that’s the teens! The TV screen was showing two images from the article I was reading of the teens. The only difference: it was in color. The news reporter spoke.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Two teens, Susan and Samuel Sanders, have both made a recovery over the time period of being found after their recent and brief disappearance. Both teens were found early this morning in a state of shock and were sent to the hospital immediately. Investigators managed to question both teens, but to no avail. The teens admitted to running away and getting kidnapped through their efforts of hitchhiking. The suspect is not identified, and the teens release no information on the abductor. The investigators are giving the teens time before bringing them back into questioning once more with parental supervision. Further details will be announced once the story is updated.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Also in today’s news, a woman by the name of Martha Stone was found at the top of a breakfast diner downtown this morning standing at the very edge of a suicide attempt.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I was much more attentive to this story since I was there myself. I was a little more ecstatic than necessary to have caught this story on time. The reporter continued.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Police and firefighters were called in by the locals and initiated a rescue that ended a little messy, but successful. A policeman, Ryan Rogers, tried to subdue Mrs. Stone from behind on the roof, but her struggling forced her to slip and fall onto the large padding down below that was being handled by the firemen. Mrs. Stone is currently in safe custody and being held at the Serenity Falls Mental Institution until further notice. That’s all for today’s stories. I am Marilyn Mayweather, and this is Seven Daily News.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I flipped off the TV and headed straight to my bedroom to grab my trench coat and scarf. I had a name: Mrs. Martha Stone. So…she was married? So many questions I wanted to ask her. Hopefully she’s been calmed by now. I didn’t expect to deal with a mentally impaired individual, but that hardly mattered. I might worry about the teens later, but Stone was a fresh victim and would probably have answers sooner than the shocked teens. Just before exiting my house, I stopped in front of the garage door and bowed my head before the white, marble cross that hung above it.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“May the Father be with me. Amen.” I opened the door and left out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Seeing as how it was still raining, I duct taped some plastic wrap over the broken window that I gathered from the garage. I’m going to have to get that fixed later, because that is seriously a hideous fixture. I was eventually on the road to Serenity Falls Mental Institution. It was a twenty-minute drive just outside of town and appeared a lot larger than I remembered. I feel as though I drive by this place all the time, but that’s expected. I pulled up to the lot where the iron gates slowly opened automatically to allow entry. Slowly, I drove up to park my car just outside the institution. Even during the rainy days, it looked welcoming enough.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The grass was green and healthy and the building wasn’t typically rundown. The institute, in general, was well-kept. I almost wondered if the patients were too. Then again, this was just the outside. Where does the money really go in this place? I grabbed my umbrella and took a few things from the glove compartment of my car: A pen and notepad. I placed them in the inner pocket of my trench coat and stepped out the car once my umbrella was opened. Through the pouring rain, I walked over to the concrete steps, not bothering to use the wet handrail for support before approaching the double, glass doors. I shook some of the excess water from the umbrella before grabbing one of those disposable plastic bags off to the side to put it in. They’re handy when they need to be on days like this.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Step up before the metal detector please.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I looked up from the floor, realizing a male security officer just past the doors sitting at a table. Safety protocols I presumed. I stepped up, but was stopped before walking through the metal detector.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Do you have a purse, keys, weapons, or any legal items of defense?” He asked, looking at me a little too sternly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“No.” I responded. “Just keys.” I took them out and placed them in the metal bowl on the table.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You’re clear to step through.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">As instructed, I walked through the metal detector. Seems I was good before he stopped me again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Arms apart, ma’am.” He stood in front holding what appeared to be a wand for the same purpose.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I chose not to complain and just spread out my hands, still holding my umbrella. He took the device and scanned me appropriately. Thank the Father.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Enjoy your time.” He stated that so flatly. He must have been here a little too long.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“T-Thank you.” I mumbled. I continued on my way to the front desk; gathering my surroundings of the place. I had to admit, it wasn’t exactly how I pictured it. It seemed to look nothing more than a hospital, or even a nursing home. There were several crazies—sorry…patients, walking around. Some were being supervised by who I assumed were the staff. Most of the patients were dressed in a light, grey-colored shirt, pants, and light jacket. The outfits looked to be similar to scrubs, and the staff was wearing khakis and doctor green, collared-shirts with a short, white jacket over it. They were easy to distinguish. This makes me wonder if this is where the more ‘stable’ patients were able to recess. They were playing common games such as chess, connect four, or chutes and ladders and even card games. Others were watching TV channels of stations I’ve never seen before. Then again, I’m not really a TV person. At least they had a good view of the outdoors with a large window on the side of the lobby.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Welcome back.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My thinking was cut short from a casual, feminine tone. I looked over to the front desk with a brunette-haired woman looking at me in a friendly manner. It was a little too friendly for comfort.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“What?” I replied.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">She holds up a pen and gestures a hand for me to come closer. “You need to sign in here, ma’am. Who are you visiting today?” She was wearing standard, white nurse’s outfit that buttoned up near the chest and flowed all the way down to her shins. On top of this was a dull-brown sweater that she kept open. Her bright, brown hair hung in tangled locks over her shoulders; but despite the tired-looking appearance, she smiled with her gleaming lip gloss.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I couldn’t help but mentally cringe. She was one of those slightly, bug-eyed individuals. You know? The ones that look a little too happy in no matter what they’re doing? That smile didn’t help the possible fact either.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Mrs. Martha Stone.” I shook my head and used the provided pen to put my name, date, and time on the sign-in sheet.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Just a guest again?” She reached into a compartment of her desk and pulled out a name tag that read ‘guest’ at the top. As if I couldn’t overhear the ‘again’ part of her statement.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I chuckled sarcastically to not seem so pushy and asked, “What do you mean by again?” My eyebrows rose a little higher in question.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">She looked at me firmly for a good while. One might even say this stare was a little bitter. She leaned in closer as her bug eyes narrowed which nearly made me uncomfortable. In a quieter tone she said, “We’ve been getting a lot of guests here recently.” She leaned back before slowly handing me the name tag. “An escort will be with you shortly. Have a seat until you’re called.” She said in a normal tone as she returns to working on her papers. A call even came through on the phone and she picked it up to answer it so friendly. It was so strange. Like as though nothing happened.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I needed to shrug this off if I wanted to remain focused. How long was I going to wait anyway? As expected, time was flowing by so damn slowly. Five minutes felt like an hour, but maybe it’s because of me. Or… it could be the patients around me watching my movements. I didn’t care for what was on the television, so what other choice did I have besides observing. Some of the patients didn’t really seem to welcome me with their body language. Some of them just stared for good periods of time for me to notice before returning to what they were doing. It was weird. They appeared so calm and collected, but it was becoming a little too obvious that a few of these patients were displaying signs of paranoia and anxiety.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Any staff that tried to calm them down looked over at me sternly a few times. It was as if they were trying to convince the patients of something; in a reassuring way, I mean. At least that’s what it looked like from over here.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I yelped in my seat, and shot up the moment I felt a chilling liquid fall in my hair and down my back! “What!? WHY!?” I shouted out. A fucking crazy poured a paper cup of water on me from behind before throwing the cup at my face with an exaggerated laugh and running off. Two staff men quickly restrained him. The asshole struggled in their arms before he was carried off.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">That was all dandy, but now I was uncomfortably wet. That had better been water! Why the hell did he do that? I walked over to the restrooms to get some paper towels, but my personal quest was shortened.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Ms. Henson?” A male tone spoke out to me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Yes?” I looked over to see a taller, Caucasian man wearing the staff uniform.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You’re here to see Mrs. Stone, right?” He gestures a hand to me, and I walk over.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Yes, please. I just want to ask her questions. I was there during the…tragic…event. I guess you can say I’d like to console her.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The staff member escorted me past the double doors that appeared to lead to separate rooms. This building was incredibly big, so hopefully it won’t take long.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Lucky for you, she’s capable of having guest since we keep her on the third floor.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“What do you mean?” I asked as I followed closely.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“We have different levels for our patients. The higher the level, the more lethal and secured it is.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Right. And how many floors are here?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Shouldn’t you know? Five.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Good to know.” I added bluntly, while looking around as we carried on. "I’m guessing we’re taking the elevator?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Ma’am, I’ve never been shy of stairs, but if you insist.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My eyes narrowed at his statement. “Don’t tell me you were actually planning to make me take stairs.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">He chuckled lightly, “Of course not. The elevator is right over here.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">We stop in the midsection of the hallway where the elevators were. He scanned his card in a little box and then pressed the top call button. The waiting process started all over again. I noticed the sounds of squishing and turned to look behind me. Seemed like a skinnier male, dressed like a patient was mopping the floors. He didn’t seem to be doing that well of a job though. He was literally moving the mop side to side in one position and was getting more water on the floor, than off it. My eyes followed up the mop, only to be greeted creepily by its handler.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">He was staring directly at me with blue eyes, short, brown hair, and misaligned teeth. That crooked smiled revealed them to me. It was only when I looked at him did he actually say something in an old-man, southern tone.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Welcome back.” He stated with his smile growing wider.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I hardly shook my head and just turned to keep facing the elevator. I didn’t want to pay him any mind.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Awfully rude to not say hello to old friends.” He coughed out the statement, which almost forced me to look at him.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I replied nervously, and tripping over my words. “I…I d-don’t…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">He continued his same mopping cycle, and just staring at me. “You know, you’re like the fucking grim reaper. Every time you step foot in this place, someone dies. Who’s it going to be today? Huh!?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My heart was beating a little faster at this point. What the hell was he talking about? I don’t even come here often if at all. The man that was escorting me looked over his shoulder to the one that was speaking. He didn’t seem to react as I hoped. Maybe this was normal? The ‘ding’ of the elevator was heard before the doors opened. Empty. Thank the Father too.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Come on miss.” My escort guided me into the elevator. And it seemed as though my movements agitated the patient.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">He screamed out at me as I just stepped in the elevator. “Who’s it going to be!? Take me! Take me! Take me!” He dare moved from his single spot towards the elevator, only to trip over the mop and water and fall on the wet flooring. At least three staff members rushed over to help him.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Hey now, take it easy.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Calm down, will ya?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The patient struggled to return to his feet, and resisted the help he was getting. His eyes…never left mine. And he only screamed louder. “Taake meeeee!!! Take meeeeeee!!!” His staring, blue eyes widened and soon glazed over with tears. As the doors finally closed in front of me, I could have sworn he was choking on his words.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Happens all the time.” My escort stated nonchalantly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I didn’t want to think about it any further. Remaining focus was the key. Remembering this was a mental institute comforted me in a strange way. <p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Here’s our stop.” The doors opened before I stepped out. My escort guided me up the hall to a room numbered 306. The door was made of a thick wood, but didn’t fully touch the flooring. There was a long window on the side of it. It resembled a door you’d see for classrooms. He places his hand on the handle and looked at me before speaking. “Try to keep your questions discreet. She’s had treatment and it took a while to get her calm. She’s not dangerous, so I’ll wait outside the door. Knock if you need anything.” He opens the door after concluding his advice.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I looked at him with eyes of concern, but lightly nodded to confirm my understanding. The door opened inward, and I stepped inside carefully. The room was that of a nursing home. There was large window with curtains that were spread open and giving a view of the rainstorm. In front of that window was a bed that was neatly made; almost as though the patient hasn’t been using it. There was a dresser off to the side, and carpet on the flooring. The cream-colored walls were nicely decorated with three paintings of landscaping; all framed with plastic. Between the door I had just entered and the bed, was a simple wooden table. It was circular in shape and accustomed with two wooden chairs that matched.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I stood there for a while, examining the room and noticed who I assumed was Mrs. Stone peering out the window directly across from me. She stood in one position; slowly rocking back and forth, muttering words to herself so quietly. I can tell she had been cleaned up because of her new clothing which was nothing more than a simple white dress and sweater. Her hair wasn’t wet, but was still messy as when I first saw her.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Mrs. Stone?” I leaned a little to the side, trying to grab her attention with my voice.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">She didn’t respond the first time. I can hear that she was still muttering words under her breath.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Mrs. Stone? I’m Clarisse Henson. I’ve got questions for you if you got a minute.” I kept my voice low as to not startle her. Unfortunately, I was still not able to grab her attention. With will to effort, I slowly made my way over to her. I called out her name once more but only got the same reaction: Nothing.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The poor woman was staring widely out the window with her fists slightly crossed to her chest. Her head was shivering lightly as she spoke so deliberately in a shaky tone. “As your will is seen. May your will be done. Protect me, and see my way through my trial of redemption. Forgive me Father, for I have failed. I’ve seen the truth, and only wish to be undone…”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I pray that the Father guides you through the path you seek…” I added in. I blinked, hardly realizing my willingness to console her with my prayer. Why was I so willing to do that?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Martha froze in her actions and slowly, but shakily turned her head and eyes to look over at me. She didn’t seem very happy of my presence. “Y-…Y-You!” She backed up slowly towards the wall.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Mrs. Stone…” I slowly reached a hand to her.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“No! Don’t touch me!” She snapped at me.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Try not to get too anxious, ma’am. I just want to ask a few questions.” I narrowed my brow in concern, and kept in the back of mind that this was a patient now. Probably has always been too. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Once Martha backed up against the wall, I detected a white cross connected to wooden beads hanging shortly over her crossed fist.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Where did you get that?” I asked.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Shouldn’t you know? It’s a gift.” She looked at me with pressing eyes; making it beyond obvious that she didn’t care for me. “Our Father gave it to me.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“He is a good Father too. He’s always been there for—“

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“DON’T! Talk to me like that…” She released a sudden outburst before calming herself with the remaining words.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I held my hands up in defense. “Mrs. Stone. I mean you no harm. I’m not a doctor, so you have nothing to wor—“

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I’m not married!”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“…You’re not?” I watched her movements carefully. She seemed to be calming down by only a little.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“No. I was never married. I don’t have a husband, and I don’t have any kids. Get out of my room…”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Ms. Stone. I need to ask you questions. If you can just please cooperate—“

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Get out my room!” Martha grabbed the sides of her head violently and sank to the floor! “Leave! Leave, leave! Get out of here!”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I rushed over to her side, not caring for her warning, but just wanted to make sure she was okay before anyone was alarmed. “Ms. Stone. Please. Do you know me?” I begged. “Why were you on roof? What were you praying for? Were you abducted?” I desperately tried to get my questions through to her. Just one answer would be enough to send me on my way by this point.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I couldn’t get her arms down to her side as she kept clutching her head. She was abnormally strong.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“The truth! The truth! I've seen it!” Her hands were pulling and tugging. I heard a quick shredding sound before seeing a bit of hair in her hand.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Ms. Stone!? Ms. Stone stop it!!”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Her voice shrilled in tone as her eyes lazily watched me as she continued to pull her hair out! “I’ve…I’ve seen it. Save me F-Father…”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Patches of hair were being revealed and yet I could not get her to stop! “HEEEEELP!” I cried out. I returned my attention to her, hoping I was heard. Her eyes were rolling as her fingernails were burrowing into her scalp and forcing blood to leak out the new openings.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“It’s…there…I…f-failed…”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I couldn’t move…I felt frozen. I watched Martha bleed from her scalp; listening to the flesh tearing away with a sickening sound that resembled chewing.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“He’s…He’s eating…” She exhausted a laugh from her throat as those lazy eyes occasionally met with mine.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I stared longer. The sounds were in my ears as I felt nothing. I was numb. “May our Father guide you through the path you seek…You were not worthy…An upset Father is a disciplinary Father. Rest now child. Serve him well in your terminal consciousness.” I recited these words over Martha, but it strangely felt involuntary. Yet…there was that willingness again. I gazed up at His work; releasing Martha’s hands as I scooted back on the floor.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I hardly noticed the door handle being yanked on so harshly as someone was trying to get in. “Hey! Hey, hey! Open the door!” The male owner of the outside voice forced his body against the door. “What the hell? How is it locked!?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My focus was only on Martha as it drowned out the efforts of the door trying to be burst opened. She slouched over against the wall, her arms with bloodied hands resting awkwardly at her sides. Her head moving side to side as she appeared to be losing consciousness. The crunching sounds from her body were louder in volume as the top of her head was seemingly opening…or more so deteriorating. Blood drained down her face and ears; staining her skin and dress with a crimson color that was bright and fresh. I could almost smell that irony stench. She smiled widely from ear to ear, and looked at me with those rolling eyes.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“He’s…he’s here…” She chuckled. “I failed…I’m free…”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“W-What…?” My eyes were welling up as I witnessed this horrid display.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Let him eat…I am undone…” Her smile faded into a frown as her eyes became as lifeless as her body.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Ms….S-Stone…?” One my hands reached out to her before a loud burst of the door broke the silence that dawned on such a tragedy.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Three staff members rushed in to help Ms. Stone who I could only assume was long gone. Two more men rushed inside and grabbed me by my arms so harshly. I tried to resist as the shock was setting in. Everything moved so slowly as I was nearly too petrified to remember how to even breathe. Shouting…moving…urgency…The hysteria was all drowned out as the blood was leaking towards the floor and sticking to the wall behind Martha’s body.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The staff members carried me out with much force and kept my hands behind my back for whatever reason. Did they think I did this? They forced me forward down the hall, but I didn’t struggle. Resisting would be a bad idea by this point. My eyes were somewhat twitching as I carefully watched where they were taking me. I didn’t notice it before, but I saw that same, creepy patient from the first floor mopping in the same pattern again. We walked past him and he didn’t bother with any words. He only looked down at his mopping and keeping quietly to himself. That was odd. Why was he there? I looked over my shoulder even after I was forced past him and something was completely off. His hair was no longer brown, but a dark shade of black and fully covering his eyes as I couldn’t see them at all. He stopped his mopping by the time I looked and only revealed a smile…a bloody smile. His whole lower face was covered with blood as he seemingly mouthed the words ‘I told you’.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I screamed my lungs out as my eyes were shut tight. I lifted up in a cold sweat and grabbed my forehead. What was going on and--? I placed my hands down only to feel a cushion. Even through my hyperventilation, my eyes snapped open to reveal that I was in bed. In bed? Was this…my bed? I observed the surroundings in a panic. I was home. Even the rain was still pouring outside. How the fuck…did I get here!?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Only after I asked that question mentally did I swing the covers from off my body; taking a split second to realize I was still in the same clothes as before. I rushed to my bathroom and lifted the toilet seat to vomit in the bowl. My stomach was turning something serious as it squeezed and forced out the vomit from my body. My mouth tasted funny as my eyes were squinted shut from the discomfort. Iron…Iron could be tasted on my tongue. I opened my eyes and saw a bright color of red within the toilet water. Sticky…crimson…red. Was…was that…--

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Something floated to the surface like a dead fish and I screamed loudly when I witnessed a half-eaten head in my toilet bowl! I recognized the face almost immediately and shot up before backing up hastily towards my bathtub! Ms. Martha Stone; covered in the putrid blood.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“What the fuck!!!?” I shrieked wildly, and almost sobbing to myself. Why was I seeing this?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I felt the plastic shower curtain against my back which scared me half to death, and I grabbed it in defense for my life before tripping into the tub…!

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I jumped awake…I could almost swear I heard the sounds of my car horn…wait…With just a moment of looking around...I was in my car. Yes. I was in my car, and through the wet windshield I could see that I was also parked just outside of a mental institute. Have I ever been in there? No…no, no. I don’t need to be here. I shifted my sedan in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot to get back on the road.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I drove, and drove, and drove. The streets were clear enough for me just to keep going. My mind…was dulling. I have no idea what has happened. Was it all a nightmare? It had to be. It felt like one. I flipped on the radio to listen for any newsworthy story. It Seems like I caught the middle of at least one.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">''“—to warn you that it is important to keep your eyes and ears open as the abductions are still at large. The investigators are working frantically to bring this case to a—“''

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Boring…” I labeled in such a sluggish tone and flicked the radio to a different station. “Aaah yes...Nothing like the nineties.” I forced a weak smile on my face as a good song played on the radio. I drove on for what seemed like miles, but I didn’t care. What’s wrong with a little road trip? It was a good twenty-three minutes before I saw a sign stating the town limit and drove passed it towards the countryside forest. The terrain turned to dirt as I steered off road to a path that was opened within the woods. It was getting a bit dark, so I turned on the headlights to keep my path visible.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“So much rain.” I stated. On that same note, I kept hearing weird sounds in the back of my head, but tried to ignore it with the turning up of my radio. “Fucking hate noise.” My tone was still bland as I just wanted to relax a bit. The same sounds egged on as I was steering through the paths deeper within the woods.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“SHUT UP!!!” I yelled towards the backseat with the threatening turn of my head. I gnashed my teeth in aggravation; trying to show how serious and tired I was. My eyes returned to the forest’s road; continuing on my way. The fog seemed to pick up out of nowhere the further I drove into the woods. The road remained visible, but the air and trees were whiting out of existence. I could barely see past the hood of my vehicle. I eventually turned down my radio at the faint sounds of crows in the distance. I saw a few flying overhead as I drove closer towards something emerging from the thick fog: A church.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My car jerked with a sputtering sound as I examined the building. The vehicle completely took me by surprise as it seemed to stall out. “Aw come on!” I turned the keys and pressed the gas to get the car moving, but only hit my steering wheel in the failed effort. “I guess I’m parked.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The engine silenced in a symphony of only more silence that surrounded me. It seemed that way. The fog remained thick, making everything further from me appear as nothing but white. I couldn’t even hear the crows anymore. I looked up through the rain of my windshield to get a not-so-perfect look of this abandoned church. It looked so old and…eerie. I felt the need to bow my head to pay respects to such a holy place.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“My Father. I pray to thank you for the safe journey. Your will has brought me to the land of your faith and your law. I only—“ My respects were interrupted with more noises from the backseat. I unlocked the doors and got out of the driver seat before slamming it shut. The rain fell heavy on my hair and body, but it felt good. I had work to do. I opened the door to the backseat and peered down at my passenger with a smile. He was a skinny male, lying across my seats; completely bonded with his arms behind his back and at the ankles. His hair was short and brown, and the terror in his eyes revealed a blue color. I didn’t appreciate his greyish, and wet clothing though.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You’re wetting up my seats.” I claimed. “I hope you didn’t piss them or yourself. Even so, you wanted this. I don’t normally accept requests, but…He…loves potentials.” The tone in my voice was dense, but playful at the same time. I had to chuckle at least once. This was too funny. Even the way he stared at me with those bulging eyes of terror was enough to force out a snicker. He probably would have responded, but the bond was a little too tight between his crooked teeth. I reached into the car and grabbed his bonded body with as much strength as I could.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">When he was angled well enough, I rolled him off the seat and out onto the mud; forcing him onto his back with a squish. He struggled and squirmed like a pathetic maggot, and was biting onto the cloth that gagged him. I stood over his body…Just watching him. He was so helpless and in need of saving. One could only hope he lived up to the expectations. “We’re almost there.” I dully uttered.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">As the rain poured onto my drenched head, I looked over to the abandoned church. It was standing with such majesty in the fog and ominousness of the forest. So big…So bold. The exterior was a little ruined and chipping away, much like the tall wooden doors that were adorned with a large black cross on each one. You could say it’s been here for…a while. The sizeable, stained-glass windows were seemingly untouched. I’ve always admired how well whites, greys, and blacks complimented each other. I smiled to myself before returning diligence to the maggot; still squirming in the mud as expected. He did manage to make it on his front though. Now he was more of an inchworm with how he probably thought he’d be escaping.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Where are you going?” I asked so politely. “The church is this way. Can’t you see it?” I moved over to this side and pushed my foot against him to knock him back on his front. That’s when I leaned down and grabbed his ankles before pulling him towards the wooden doors of the massive church. Out of nowhere, I could hear the creaking of wooden doors opening up all on their own behind me. I wasn’t startled at the welcoming. I only continued to pull the man inside. I may have been drenched from head to toe, but I was still considerate enough to wipe my feet. I don’t want to be rude. He doesn’t like that.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">A mysterious wind brushed past my back as I entered inside. I could smell the familiar scent of decay and hospitality. It was something similar to dead plants and aged clothing. But it could more so be the blood staining the floor in different areas. I welcomed the fragrance, but He might make me clean it up eventually. This was tiring. My back was beginning to hurt as I dragged this struggling man inside. It seemed the further I pulled, the more his feet would kick and head would shake. That was bothersome.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My eyes inspected such a wondrous atmosphere. This place is so beautiful, but even more so than the outside. So many marble columns of a tinted teal, and the matching floor that I bet was just as glorious if the blood wasn’t staining so much of it. Seriously, there were puddles of blood everywhere, and splatters on the columns themselves. Numerous stained-glass windows adorned the walls in a row; though the sun wasn’t shining today, it was letting in a mystical light. I eventually dropped the brown-haired man’s legs on the long runner carpet that connected from the doors to the altar. It was an altar where a colossal, black, marble cross stands before a just-as-enormous stained-glass window that was also decorated with a black cross. This place…This place! It’s so beautiful.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">A single, tear fell from my eye. It was just so much to take in. “Father!” I called out, with my voice echoing off the spacious walls. “I’m home!” I lowered myself to my knees in a prayer position, while trying to ignore the annoying muffling sounds behind me.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Seeketh me here now Father. I have tread the path of labor and await the nurturing of the fruits you bear. I heard thy will, and carried out thou wanted actions. Hear me Father. Your child has done well. A potential awaits thou presence. And through thy words I—“

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You can cease with thou prayer child.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">A deep and low voice sent a shiver up my spine. I turned my head to look behind me as I saw a mysterious figure standing over the man I brought. I went from my knees to my bottom as I slowly scooted back with a shaking feeling within my skin. My eyes widened as they could not leave what I was seeing.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Is thou afraid?” The figure’s tone was so polished and welcoming, but had an odd sense of darkness to it. “Thine feelings are not welcome. Thou shall know.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I still had no words for what I was seeing. A male of sorts towering over a helpless potential. The clothing on his back consisted of a black cloak with extensive sleeves that were so long, you couldn’t even see his hands if he had any. This same cloak had a tattered loin cloth below the center opening of his waist that was garnished with a slender, black cross that ran down to the tattered edges. Over his head, was a white hood with extra material that covered his shoulders and chest area; barely covering the black cross that was marked on his chest and above the brown strap that fastened a triangular plate in the center of his waist. Around his neck outside of his hood were two, plain silver necklaces. The unsettling image of his appearance was the mask that fully covered his face. It was…blank. Nothing was there at all, just a blank, grey…pentagon-shape of a mask.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">He looked at me carefully. His head was slowly tilting to the side as though analyzing me. Words were still not there to use. Nothing could describe how I was truly feeling deep down. It was strange, yet…familiar. There was this suffocating feeling of seeing something so mysteriously vague. What did his face look like? Run…Run…RUN! A voice was screaming in the back of mind. If I could pinpoint it, that would be my better judgment or instincts talking to me. Yet again, I was mentally sealed to the floor.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Welcome back…” He said to me to calmly. His body almost seemed to float over to me, gliding himself over the man that was just as petrified as I was.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">This figure…This…--

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I’m sensing something outside of my teachings. It is rather bothersome.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">With him breaching my thoughts, I could only scoot back further, but to no avail. Something cold touched my wet skin, which I could tell was one of the columns. I was going nowhere at this point. He was standing over me at first; nearly being what seemed like eight feet in height, before he leaned so creepily to place that damn mask in front of my face. Silence. That’s all there was…silence. That is for the exception of my trembling. I could feel it in the goose bumps and my fingertips. Plus, it didn’t help with how cold it was in here. I would surely catch my death, if this entity didn’t kill me first.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Or maybe not…As that mask stood before my eyes so eerily, I caught a glimpse of this figure’s neck. He may have been wearing a sort of black attire underneath these holy garments, because I could plainly see a clerical collar around his neck. A father?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I screamed out a yelp and landed on the floor with both of my hands bracing what felt like a hit to my face! The bun of my hair halfway falling out into worse tangles as one of my hands felt the smarting pain of my cheek.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You’ve upset me at least twice, child. What reason does my follower have to be afraid of her Father?” He stood up from his looming; resting the arm that hit me back at his side. I didn’t respond with any words. I only looked towards the cold floor. I didn’t want to look back at him as he continued his supposed lecture in such a smooth and low monotone. “Your meager body is fouled with the stench of fear. You know how much I hate that. With that flaw aside, I’m disappointed in your actions.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">It was that statement that got my attention. “W-What…?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You’ve allowed the elder one to escape.” His head looked down upon me as his shadow continued to loom. I felt so damn small in comparison.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I don’t underst—“

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Her mind has crumbled severely after her test. Your task was to bring her to me so thou shall dine!” His voice dramatically echoed darkly against the walls.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I only cowered lower towards the floor as my lips trembled as much as the rest of my body. What was he talking about?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“So many pieces of your mind still remain a mystery in itself. This is why I’ve chosen you. Some day you will be taking this test.” He slowly glided backwards on the floor; moving so carefully towards the bonded man, and the frontal surface of his mask never leaving my line of sight. “A disposable follower you are, and a disposable follower thou shall remain.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">His mask finally broke away from my frightened gaze. He stared down at the man who gave up in his struggling after so long. I assume he exhausted himself. “My, my. What a worthy treat.” The Father said to the man. “I have heard of the trials you wish to partake in. You are here now, and thou shall not upset me, or a cold and terrifying end awaits you.” He held a sleeve over the man’s body and I watched horridly as what appeared to be some black, slimy, tentacle-like appendages descended from the material. Three of the slender appendages wriggled forth and wrapped around the man’s neck.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">He willed himself to squirm more as he was breaking out into a colder sweat. A smile curled onto my face as I now watched…in amusement. The tentacles wriggled so humorously. The helpless male was soon dragged on the floor, being pulled towards the altar by his neck as he grunted every step of the way. The Father was at work. Could I witness such a revelation? What was going to happen?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">He spoke as though delivering a sermon, and continued towards the altar as the subject gagged in his struggle. “Time and time again. A task that runs cold and endless. A new beginning has dawned upon a subject. A potential follower. A child. Fate has selected thine child to withstand the test of truth. What will remain is the question. Will this beginning traverse to an end? Or shall the subject break through the new light of redemption and bask within the cause of my word? Sharing my true philosophy of insanity. Pass this revelation child, or face the starvation of thou testament.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">A pure silence befell within the church. That was before I heard the shredding sounds of what may have been flesh! My eyes followed over to the Father as the back of his robe was ripping apart so horridly. The tearing was reaching so deep to the flesh. It broke open, forcing streams of blood to stain his back before some plant-like branches appeared out from the wounds: Thorns. Something you’d see attached to roses. Each thorn passing through the gashes of his back ripped deeper into the skin before lengthening out into wriggling tendrils. I could not believe what I was seeing. This figure was not a human. He couldn’t be. I figured that from his height and tentacles, but no human could possibly do that, nor withstand that much pain. He didn’t even seem to bat an eye. If he had any that is.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">There were at least four of those thorny tendrils extracting themselves so painfully from the Father’s back. They slithered out towards the man and seemingly eyed him before cutting away the bonds from his back, mouth, and ankles. The man whom once possessed the crooked smile got up so shakily, but was stopped short with his intentions as the tendrils coiled around him more quickly than a provoked python. Screams bellowed from his throat as he was carried high up from the flooring. I couldn’t tell if it was the height or the thorns that traumatized him the most. It didn’t matter.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Stop! Please! God, No!!” He hollered out through tears with that southern accent of his. I could see his skin beginning to bleed and his clothing nearly torn up. It was all the work from the thorns; the thorns of cleansing. The Father bluntly ignored his pleas and stood on the ground watching his tendrils force the man into a state of delirium. Those plant-based needles were only tearing further into him, and small drops of blood hitting the ground in smooth and subtle drips. It was so…so, so beautiful. The Father works majestic miracles.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“The time is ripe. Let’s see how you fair.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I don’t want this! Pleeeease! PLEASE TAKE ME HOME!”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Child, you haven’t been paying attention. You are home. I am your Father Madness.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The thorned tendrils shot the man’s body directly towards the marble cross, and putting him right in the center with a heavy slam! His arms were spread apart with his feet hanging under him. The blow was pretty powerful that he even coughed up a thick mess of blood! I could tell he was feeling pretty sick by this point. It’s not like I couldn’t blame him after that wild ride. My shivering almost seemed to get worse as that chill was picking up, and the lighting from the windows were getting darker as well. I didn’t pay it too much mind as I was more interested in the Father’s works. His bloodied tendrils were slowly removing themselves from his new child. However, to his dismay, it seems that more were growing from behind the majestic cross. They wrapped themselves tightly around the man’s arms and legs like tinsel. They coiled, and coiled, forcing out more cries, blood, and scars across the man’s skin.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I see…” I whispered to myself as I watched so intently.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The coiling tendrils worked their way up to the man’s wrist and soon…

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” He howled a devastating scream as I witnessed each tendril burrowing deep down in the center of his palms. The mess was purely insane as his body shivered violently with rolling eyes. I walked up to get a closer look. Surely the Father wouldn’t mind. He only watched from the base of the cross; a bit of blood landing on the blank surface of his mask.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“I know more about you than you realize Edward Blaine.” The Father stated during the horrors of the man’s torture.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">So that’s his name. It almost rings a bell. A bell I didn’t care to hear as I just kept walking; feeling almost aimless in my direction. I was stumbling, feeling so weak in the knees. Or perhaps this wasn’t weakness. I wasn’t very sure. I was nearly halfway before the Father of madness continued his sermon.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“That feeling deep down is the poison of fear. Allow your Father to relinquish you of that ailment. Free you mind and release your worries with a noble sacrifice to my cause and philosophy. I do not wish you to fear me. I am merely your Father and savior. Hear my words Edward. Live no longer in the walls of confinement. Rejoice in the true pursuit of happiness. This is your chance. Learn what it means to bear the freedom to act without remorse. Learn what it means to be free of pain and depression. Rid your state of being from psychological and physical imprisonment. Witness my greatest sermon. Can thou handle the Truth?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I stopped going forth when the Father’s back suddenly snapped backwards with the back of his head slamming against the floor with a single hit! I gasped, not fully understanding what happened and the fact that it happened so quickly. His actions caused his hood to fall off; revealing his slightly lengthy, black hair, and were followed by another crunch of his spine as he leaned forward; hunched over the ground and heaving with heavy breaths. His thorned tendrils wriggled everywhere and were expanding in length; crossing over one another as if constructing some sort of barb-wired barrier. They moved so swiftly, it was like hearing swords cut across the air.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">As his shaking body loomed over the stone flooring, it seemed as though his mask was falling off. It hung off slightly from his face with gravity, but it was connected with something as sticky as glue. A sleeve arose from his side to allow those same, slimy tentacles to grab ahold of the sides of his blank mask and remove it manually, like it wanted to come off. The man’s screams mixed in with the Father’s movements as he tugged onto the mask. I felt another tug in my throat as my staring eyes observed an extreme mess of blood connecting the mask to his face. There was a thick sound of sticky squishes as he removed that mask so disturbingly. The tentacles slung it to the floor before he looked up at Edward with a bloody face that was dripping clean from blood.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Open your eyes…and witness…what is truly inside.” He spoke these words a little more darker than I thought necessary. But I was more curious of his face. The mask was gone. What was hiding behind it? I wanted to see his eyes.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">His heaving breath forced his head to tilt back towards the ceiling, and I swear I could see a huge bulge sitting right in his throat. What was that? No words were spoken. Edward had finally calmed down, but that may have been due to his trauma. Even I had no sounds to offer such an event. The bulge within the Father’s throat began to rise slowly. Veins were prominent it was forcing its way out. The Father shook slightly as he was clutching his throat with his sleeves, wanting whatever the hell was coming out to hurry. He scratched at it as well as he could, forcing wounds to open up in places they shouldn’t. His head tilted back farther before his mouth opened wider, and wider, and wider. A slight tear was heard, which more than likely came from the corners of his mouth. I saw him bleed!

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">His teeth were freakishly being pushed outwards, and I couldn’t believe how sharp they were. They were outlining the hole of his mouth like a shark and before I knew it, something protruded from the opening. It was something long, and flesh-like. It didn’t have the same skin color, but a paler complexion. I didn’t know what the hell was sticking out of his mouth, but it was freaking me out! I have never seen anything like it. And as I was just trying to wrap my mind around this one, damn detail, another flesh-like stem stuck out of his mouth like the other, and followed by more before it continued to seep out of this entity’s throat!

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">So much blood covered this mysterious body as it made its way out. I couldn’t describe it too well. An alien-like creature is the only best way I had. There was a rounded, head-like shape that was supporting four slender appendages on the top that possibly were pincers the more I kept looking at it. The head was resting on the shoulders of a body that appeared rather parasitic, because an alien worm is what I gathered from piecing together the details. It didn’t have feet of course. No. Not at all. As huge as this thing was, which evidently was about three times the size of the Father himself, it somehow funneled down to a fleshy tube that was stuck in his mouth. Was this thing, him?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">It even had arms. Partially, muscular arms with a mysterious, bloody outline of a puzzle piece on its right shoulder. The hands though didn’t look anything like a human’s. This creature had palms, but the fingers were nothing more than three, slimy tentacle fingers. This had to be him. Was this his Truth? It balanced itself very high above the ground, just sticking out of the Father’s throat, and practically at the same level as the traumatized Edward. It was swaying subtly from side to side as it peered into his soul. But…how?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Edward was completely silent; being petrified in his emotions. His bulging eyes were staring deep into what was looking back. I wondered…what exactly was he looking at? The back of this creature from where I could see was tearing in a similar fashion like before on Father Madness. But instead of just four, at least six or seven of those terrifying tendrils sprawled of his back in another bloody mess. There is no wonder as to why the floors remained as stained as they were. More swords dancing in the air, I thought to myself.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">The creature spoke in a more echoed and morbid tone; and never removing its gaze within Edward.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">“Open your eyes to what's truly inside

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">The protection is gone, the Truth is here

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">A Truth that many have failed to grasp

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">My truth that no one will conceive

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">You among many are given the chance

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">Witness my greatest sermon

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">Death is knocking at your door

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">Will you die in failure to spread thy knowledge?

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">Few souls can handle my devotion

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">Hundreds of years spent, I've watched them die

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">Thou art eager to take self's life

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">A deed I will encourage as The Truth...Remains To Be Seen…”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Edward said nothing in response to his sermon. His bleeding palms that remained with burrowing thorns clenched as he sobbed so pitifully. More tears formed within his eyes, but he never looked away. Not once. I had no will to stand in my spot any longer. What was truly the greatest sermon? I wanted to know like a personal goal. I moved in closer, realizing the Father Madness’ clothing on the floor had sprawled out all around like a blanket, and covering more ground than before. I was polite enough not to step on it. I moved up on the short steps on the altar to see the front of this alien looking parasite. Come to think of it, it had to be living inside of Father Madness as I was seeing.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">Again, there was more strangeness from a creature of pure ambiguousness. That puzzle piece on the shoulder was bleeding, but I was more struck to find the chest cavity wide open! It was practically hollow, but the outer edges of the cavity’s skin were protected by teeth as a single…beating…heart was inside and glowing so beautifully. My eyes trailed up higher to see this creature’s face. I wanted to know. I needed that certainty. What was really frightening this man’s sanity?

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">A drop of thick liquid landed on my head; forcing me to flinch in my actions. It was followed by another, until it was practically raining. I could only imagine where all this was coming from.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Mmm…yes.” I smiled to myself as my eyes had closed. “Sweet, sweet sustenance, Father Madness. Bring forth the fruits of your labor.” Louder tearing was heard above me. Even as I tried to look, white flashes happened before my eyes that forced them to close regardless. I could see faint images in mind as my arms outstretched and I felt the need to almost dance and bask in the crimson liquid of someone’s unfortunate demise.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">A man and two kids

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">A bloodied bathtub filled with their three bodies

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">One child is holding a white cross

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">My hands are bloodied

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">A sleeping woman in her bed

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">I hear screams as I’m sitting on top of her

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">“Our Father wants to see you…”

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">''“Stop! Stop! Let me go!”''

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">A syringe is held in my hands…

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I smile and rejoice before laughing so proudly as I twirl in the blood that befalls over my body.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">I slam the car door shut

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">''“Martha Stone, I’ll put you through my test. Thou art ready?”''

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">Feminine screams echo off the walls

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">My hands and clothes are stained with blood as I’m holding a white cross in one of them

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">“Take her back.”

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">A mug of hot coffee rests on my table

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">“Welcome back.”

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;text-align:-webkit-center;">My backdoor window is broken with shattered glass and a white cross on the seat

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Heh, heh.” My body was nearly covered from head to shoulders as I bathed in the work of the Father. “Heh heh, heh.” A smile stretched wider across my face as I can feel the thick sustenance clotting against my skin, hair and clothes. This feeling in my body. I had to scream at the top of my lungs! “Heheh heheh heheh ha hah hah hah haaa!! Isn't this funny!? I'm laughing! Who cares about pain!!!? It doesn't hurt anymore! I’m free! I'm free! I’M Freeeeeeeeee!!!”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Welcome back.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I shot awake from the table of the diner I was in. The mature tone of a male’s voice had startled me awake. “H-Huh…what..?” From looking around, the morning seemed to have dawned and it was pouring outside the window I was sitting by. There was a booth in front and one behind.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“You okay, Clarisse?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I looked up to see a male with brown hair and green eyes, looking at me while pouring a pot of coffee into my mug. “You’ve really gotta stop working yourself to death. You’re looking worse by the day.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I wasn’t sure where my mind was at. I grabbed my face with both of my hands; trying to collect my bearings.

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Yeah, you must have heard, right?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">I wasn’t sure why this guy was speaking to me so freely. If coffee is what I ordered, that should be all. Though his question intrigued me. “Heard?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“Come on, don’t you ever watch the news? A man from the Serenity Falls Mental Institution was abducted yesterday afternoon. They haven’t found him yet, but the kidnapper always returns his victims. Scary stuff. I hope he’s okay.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My eyes lulled over to the waiter as he told me this story, yet somehow…I wasn’t too bothered. I smiled politely as I looked him in his eyes. “Greg…?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“H-Hey, you remembered my name. That’s a first in a while.”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“May I…ask you some questions?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">“For the investigation thing?”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">For a brief moment, my eyes focused in on his neck. I noticed he was wearing a beaded necklace with a white cross attached to it. I kept up my smile and responded as I took out my wallet to place down seven dollars and fifty cents on the surface of the table. “Yes…” I replied in a monotone. “For the investigation thing…”

<p align="start" class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-weight:normal;line-height:19.5px;">My smile could only grow wider once the sound of a body hitting the roof a car and shattering the glass, just outside the window broke the peaceful silence of the diner. I chuckled as the alarm drastically went off. <ac_metadata title="Our Father (unreviewed)"> </ac_metadata>