《The Hazel Woods》


 Prologue

    Mrs. Jessica Conway, a charming woman with a hint of grey hair in her bangs, worked hard in the kitchen, quickly gathering, measuring, and setting aside each of her twenty ingredients and pulling out the ground lamb. She sauteed some onions, threw the lamb in, stirred, simmered, added more ingredients and seasonings, all as her mother had taught her, whose own mother had taught her. The Conway family had developed their recipe in the early nineteenth century, and over a century of refinements had created one of the best delicacies in all the Midwest. The kitchen was quite cozy, with decorative baskets hung on the walls and a small stack of mail that the Conways had yet to get to set in their own corner on the island of the wooden kitchen. She had a window that looked out onto the front porch, so that she could see visitors as they arrived at their two-story home.


    At the same time as she prepared the meat filling, she had some peeled potatoes boiling on the back burner, and once they were softened, she mashed and seasoned them as well, adding parmesan. She took the meat and vegetable filling, placed it in a casserole dish, and topped it with the cheesy potatoes before placing it in the oven to bake to a beautiful golden brown.


    The front door open, and in came Mr. Joseph Conway, a conservative and kind gentleman who immediately called out, ¡°Honey, something smells amazing!¡± This was true, from the kitchen wafted the scent of garlic and parmesan, onions and lamb, and could set even a desert¡¯s mouth-a-watering. Mrs. Conway¡¯s cooking always filled Joseph¡¯s life with joy, even after being married for thirty years.


    ¡°Hey, babe, I¡¯ve got shepherd¡¯s pie in the oven. Get yourself ready for dinner,¡± she then called even louder so that her voice could be heard in even the far corners of the house, ¡°Philip, come on down and set the table, please!¡±


    Mr. Conway looked up the stairs as he walked by, where there were two bedrooms and a bath. One bedroom was for his son, and the other was reserved for guests, which they infrequently had, but it was always good to be prepared. He didn¡¯t hear anything from upstairs, but he hoped that Philip would be closing out of his video game and head down soon at his mother¡¯s behest. Mr. Conway continued down the hallway and entered the master bedroom, where he hung his jacket and flat cap. It was early spring, and soon it would be too warm to wear either as Indiana began one of its seasonal swings. Mr. Conway had grown up in Alaska, moved to Arizona, before finally settling with his family in Hazelwood, Indiana. He found the state was just the perfect place, with a magical winter and luscious summer. Two extremes that the state would dance between every year, sometimes daily during the fall and spring months as the temperature would rise to eighty on one day, and dip to twenty the next. He enjoyed the extreme seasons and looked forward to the smell of flowers and water in the air as spring blossomed.


    He slipped off his steel-toed boots, took his shirt and belt off, and then walked to the kitchen, now comfortable. He glanced at the table and sighed. Philip had not come down yet, and he began setting the table while Mrs. Conway wiped the counters and cleaned up from cooking. ¡°Philip,¡± he shouted out, ¡°Get on down to the kitchen, your mother already called!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m in the middle of a match!¡± The voice echoed down the stairs and sounded absolutely irate. Joseph was growing impatient with his son.


    ¡°That¡¯s your fault! Your mother makes dinner at the same time every day. Now get your butt on down here!¡±


    Joseph looked Jessica in the eye, who gave a sad, but reassuring smile back to him. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m used to it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem honey, you shouldn¡¯t have to be. The boy is twenty-five, it¡¯s bad enough he failed out of college and then quit his job last year. Now he doesn¡¯t even help with the basics at home. I¡¯m sick of it. He needs to learn to grow up and act like a man.¡± Mr. Conway finished placing the silverware and sat back into his chair at what was the unofficial head of the table, as it was round. It gave him a perfect view of the kitchen but had his back to the entranceway.


    ¡°He at least helps on the farm.¡±


    Joseph scoffed, ¡°Barely, and you have to nag at him constantly just to get him to do anything. All he wants to do is play games all day, but that isn¡¯t what life is about and he needs to figure that out. Soon too, we¡¯re getting old, and we can¡¯t keep taking care of him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s aimless, and just trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s getting to the point where he needs to go out and figure it out on his own.¡±


    Mrs. Conway didn¡¯t respond and turned to the oven as she pulled out the pie. She knew Joseph was right, but she couldn¡¯t bear the thought of Philip becoming homeless, or a druggie, or who knows what else when he struck out on his own. At least when Philip was here, she could make sure he had somewhere safe to sleep. Her maternal instincts drove her to protect and nurture Philip, even when it came to the detriment of his personal growth sometimes. She was aware of all this, but it didn¡¯t make it any easier for her to stop. She was his mother. She would always be Philip¡¯s mother. But maybe Joseph was right, maybe it was time to let Philip go out and struggle, even if she thought she could spare him from the harshness of the real world. They wouldn¡¯t be around forever, and it was better he learned how to live as a young man, than go out middle-aged with nothing to show for it.


    Joseph set the table and Jessica put food on each of the plates before placing the leftovers on a trivet in the middle of the table. ¡°Philip, come on down, dinner¡¯s ready!¡± She called sweetly.


    ¡°Hold on!¡±


    ¡°Son of a gun,¡± Mr. Conway swore as he stood up and walked up to Philip¡¯s bedroom. Jessica sat and listened to them yell at each other before Philip stepped down dejectedly with his father stomping steamily on his heels. ¡°Now sit and let¡¯s say grace,¡± Mr. Conway growled with frustration. This was not how he liked his evenings to go, but it had become the norm despite his grievances.


    Philip sat at the round table, and the three bowed their heads and synchronously, as they had a thousand nights before, said a variation of the common table prayer.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Come, Lord Jesus, be our Guest.


    To may this food, to us be blessed. Amen.


    They each began eating, and there was silence before Mrs. Conway broke it to ask, ¡°How was your day at work, honey?¡±


    ¡°Good. George finally managed to get our pick numbers up to where they¡¯re supposed to be, and the new team lead has really been stepping up into the role. Even Frank was happy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear!¡±


    ¡°It is. How about you, how was your day?¡±


    ¡°Stressful. I had a phone conference this morning, and they still aren¡¯t listening to my concerns. We¡¯re down twenty percent productivity, and there is only so much I can do from my workstation.¡± Mrs. Conway worked from home in her office, providing analytics from her little corner of the world.


    There was silence again while they finished eating, and finally Mrs. Conway attempted to make the brooding Philip participate, ¡°So how was your day, Phil?¡±


    ¡°Fine until you guys made me look like an idiot to my friends.¡±


    Mr. Conway was having none of it. ¡°Don¡¯t speak to your mother like that, and it¡¯s your fault anyways!¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s it my fault?¡±


    ¡°You knew it was time for dinner!¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like it matters!¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°We barely even talk when we eat, and when we do its to talk about your boring work stuff!¡±


    Mrs. Conway interceded unsuccessfully, ¡°Boys, please!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Mr. Conway continued, ¡°He needs to hear this. This ¡°boring work stuff¡± is realer than whatever crap you do on that computer of yours. These ¡°friends¡± of yours, have you ever even met them in real life? Of course not, because you don¡¯t have any real friends. You need to stop wasting your life away on video games and go out and get a real job!¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s that my fault I don¡¯t have a job!¡± Philip countered, ¡°You two keep me so busy running this farm you don¡¯t have time for that I¡¯m forced to stay home and help around the house. It¡¯s your fault I didn¡¯t have time to study for college and couldn¡¯t keep a job!¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Mr. Conway looked at Mrs. Conway with his lip lifting in contempt, who also looked flabbergasted by the accusation. He turned back to his son, ¡°Really now? Let me ask you then, what did you even do today?¡±


    ¡°I spent all morning taking care of the animals that you two are too old and lazy to do yourself!¡±


    ¡°All morning? That¡¯s what, six hours of work? Assuming you did do that all morning, which I doubt. And let me guess, you spent the rest of it upstairs playing your stupid games! That¡¯s not even a full-time job! That¡¯s not even mentioning that you would still have to spend a few hours each day taking care of your home and family if you had a full-time job and were independent in the first place! And don¡¯t think we couldn¡¯t take care of the farm without you, we just put it on you because you otherwise wouldn¡¯t be doing anything else but wasting your life!¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Philip stood up, having finished his food, and left in a huff.


    ¡°Wash your dishes!¡±


    ¡°I was going to!¡± The son came back, took the dishes, and washed them in the sink quickly before stepping outside on the front porch, grabbing his Carhartt jacket from the coatrack on his way. ¡°I¡¯m going to go take care of the pigs!¡±


    Mr. Conway chose to ignore him, but Mrs. Conway tried to deescalate by saying, ¡°Thank you, Phil.¡± Her heart wasn¡¯t in it though, and it fell on flat ears.


    Philip shut the door behind him and let the screen door shut underneath the spring pressure as he marched down the porch steps and saw a wet, shaggy, black dog, with deep set black eyes and a wagging tail. The dog ran up and jumped up and down on its front dogs while a low ruff rumbled from it that didn¡¯t quite hit the decibel to be a proper bark but was too low to be a growl. There was a pitter-patter of rain on mud, and the first big shower of spring was in full swing.


    ¡°Hey Chester,¡± Philip patted the dog on the head, and Chester began running in circles in place from excitement. Philip smiled before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a pair of cowhide gloves, perfect for handling twine and dry hay. He put them on and walked out to the pigsty.


    The pigs oinked and swarmed to the gate, and Philip shooed them away angrily before opening it and walking to their water trough, his boots sinking into the depths of mud four inches deep, each step taking great effort. The pigs squealed and swarmed around him, and he patted them out of his way as he labored through. He looked down, and saw that the water was full, unsurprising thanks to the rain coming down. He made sure the water was clean, as sometimes the pigs would drop sloughs of mud into it, but it was still good from that morning. He smiled and turned to find himself up to his thighs in pigs.


    ¡°Come on, move,¡± he nudged one of the pigs, but it oinked and pushed forward almost knocking Philip down into the water. ¡°Come on, I¡¯m not having a good day,¡± he pleaded and tried to nudge the hog again, but this time it snorted loudly and pushed again.


    ¡°Move!¡± Philip paired this with a kick, and he felt slight satisfaction as the pig squealed and moved away from him. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought!¡± He let out a mischievous laugh as he kicked at the other pigs, and soon he set them squelching through the mud with squeals of pain and panic. ¡°Stupid pigs!¡± Philip shouted triumphantly before making his way back to the gate and letting himself out.


    As he walked away, the pigs stared at him hungrily, for they had not eaten yet that evening. Each eye was dark as the abyss, as they watched Philip stop. He bent over and picked up a stick, and Chester barked excitedly while he happily goaded the pup before throwing it for the dog to chase. Philip laughed and walked back to the porch.


    His boots were a muddy mess, and he took them off to set them to the side of the doormat. He would hose them off once the rain stopped, as there was no point while it was still so muddy. Chester stumbled up the steps with the stick in his mouth and dropped it at Philips now exposed socks.


    ¡°Who¡¯s a good boy?¡± He asked before scratching the dog underneath his chin and behind his neck while taking a knee. Chester had been in the family for six years now, but despite his age was as spry and excited as the puppy he once was. ¡°Sorry boy, I got to get back to my game, my friends are waiting for me.¡±


    Philip stepped into the entranceway and hung up his coat, before walking by the dining room table. Mr. Conway didn¡¯t bother looking back from the table, now cleared by his wife and growled, ¡°The pigs got water?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Philip realized what he had forgotten even before Joseph asked.


    ¡°The pigs got food?¡±


    ¡°¡­ I forgot.¡±


    ¡°How did you forget to feed the pigs, that¡¯s literally what you went out there to do?¡±


    ¡°Get off my back, I¡¯m heading out now.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have to be on your back if you could do a single thing right!¡±


    ¡°I said I¡¯m taking care of it, Jesus!¡±


    ¡°Phil!¡± cried out Mrs. Conway.


    ¡°Do not say the Lord¡¯s name in vain, boy!¡± Mr. Conway stared back from his chair and glared needles at Philip.


    ¡°Fine! Whatever, I¡¯m taking care of it.¡±


    ¡°Apologize to your mother first.¡±


    Philip sighed, ¡°Sorry mom.¡±


    Mrs. Conway looked sadly at him, but gave him an encouraging smile, ¡°It¡¯s alright dear. I love you.¡±


    ¡°Love you too, mom.¡± Philip had already put his coat on and stepped outside. He bent over and put his boots on, now caked with mud making it difficult to tie them tightly, but he managed. Chester let out a bark, and Philip could hear the squealing of pigs in the distance. Lightning flashed and it was followed by the crash of a terrible thunder, portending the events about to occur.

 The Absentee

    Jacob Miller was whistling cheerfully as he continued to sweep the floors of the restaurant, which was in a lull after the lunch rush had passed, a local Italian restaurant in the neighboring city of Plainfield. Most people from his hometown got work there or other neighboring cities since most of Hazelwood was farmland. Today was going to be a good day, it was to be his first paycheck at his new job. It had been a rocky few years, but he was finally getting his life back together.


    Janet, his boss, walked out and said, ¡°Jacob when you¡¯re done, come back to the office. I need to talk to you.¡± She was a shrewd but fair woman, and while Jacob wasn¡¯t too fond of her, he couldn¡¯t complain since he was getting paid. He finished cleaning up, nodded to the hostess who smiled charmingly and waved, and then walked back through a door labeled ¡®employees only.¡¯


    The kitchen had been cleaned as well, and he saw one of the kitchen hands finishing up the dishes. Jacob walked the rest of the way through and stepped into the office. Janet was seated behind her desk and had her lips pursed in irritation. ¡°Close the door,¡± she said sternly. Jacob felt a chill run down his spine yet complied with her.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°You tell me,¡± Janet turned the monitor to show a news article with Jacob¡¯s mugshot front and center. Jacob felt his heart sink, he had hidden the truth of his arrest and incarceration of almost nine years. He had spent the first few months out of prison applying to whoever he could, but no one was willing to hire someone who had only just gotten out of prison. It wasn¡¯t until he started lying that he finally started getting interviews, a blessing gained through the common nature of his name allowing him to disappear from a courtesy glance at a search engine. Indeed, the first thing that would pop up was a musician who looked nothing like him.


    ¡°I can explain.¡±


    ¡°No need, consider yourself fired.¡±


    ¡°On what grounds, I have done a phenomenal job for the past two weeks!¡±


    ¡°On the grounds of dishonesty, which breaks company policy, I might add. I would¡¯ve never hired you if I knew your criminal history, and neither I nor the other employees would feel safe working with a prior convict.¡±


    ¡°Come on, it was over nine years ago, and I have never hurt another person,¡± Jacob resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had been a drunk idiot and committed arson, and to this day he regretted it. Since he had gotten out, he hadn¡¯t even touched alcohol. Looking at his record, he had even been let out on good behavior a year earlier than it could¡¯ve been otherwise. He wasn¡¯t a threat to society, he had been a teenager, just turned adult, who made a very, very stupid decision.


    Janet was having none of it, ¡°That¡¯s a discussion we could¡¯ve had if you had been honest from the beginning.¡± Jacob knew that was a lie, she would¡¯ve never even interviewed him if he had included it on his resume. She picked an envelope up from her desk and handed it out, ¡°Here. You¡¯re first and final paycheck. Take it and leave.¡±


    ¡°Please, its my daughter¡¯s birthday today.¡±


    ¡°Take it,¡± she said with emphasis, ¡°And leave.¡±


    Jacob stepped out into the parking lot and opened the paycheck. It wasn¡¯t going to be nearly enough to get him through that¡¯s month¡¯s rent. He would¡¯ve had one more paycheck that could have gotten him over the hump with tips, but now he didn¡¯t have a clue how he was going to make the money in time. He had missed last month¡¯s rent, but his parents had bailed him out for what they said was the last time. Jacob sighed, since it looked like by month¡¯s end, he¡¯d be homeless. In that case, he wasn¡¯t going to waste this money. His daughter¡¯s birthday was in a few hours, and he would stop by the toy store to grab her something. He took his phone out and scanned the paycheck, and his bank deposited it into his account from the app. The phone had been a gift from his parents when he had got out, to help him get back on his feet, and it had been a godsend. Without a car, he had to walk to and from work, the bank, everywhere. The phone saved him time at least on having to deposit his check.


    He walked down the street towards the mall, wondering what he was going to get Allison, is ten-year-old daughter. He didn¡¯t have visitation, but her mother, Mary, was willing to work with him and let him be there for holidays and birthday parties. The party started at five and it was supposed to be a sleepover with her friends from school. He was invited to be there for dinner and had been told Allison wanted some new doll paired with a picture to identify it with that Allison¡¯s mother had sent him.


    Mary and Jacob had never been that close, the pregnancy was an accident from a quick fling, but she had wanted to keep the child, and he had agreed to help anyway he could before his conviction. He had reached out as soon as he got out, and while she had reservations about letting a convict into their daughter¡¯s life, she was willing to give him a chance.


    Jacob walked down US Highway 40, a road that stretched from coast to coast and passed straight through the city of Plainfield before entering Indianapolis. The sun was out, and the day was already in its eighties as the summer months rolled in. Greenery was everywhere to be seen with the sweet scent of pollen, and the streets were decorated in preparation for the upcoming fourth of July. Jacob was halfway to the mall when he saw a dog on a side road being chased by a much bigger dog, both headed towards him.


    The brute pounced and got hold of the small thing, a white creature with brown eyes that immediately yelped as the larger dog began shaking it back and forth. The larger dog had a leash on it, and its owner was yelling after it while it chased. Jacob didn¡¯t even hesitate and sprinted down the side street yelling at the two dogs.


    The bigger dog saw him and let go of the smaller one with a yelp before turning tail and returning to its owner. The smaller dog¡¯s face was a bloody mess, and it limped and hid behind his leg while shaking like a leaf in the wind.


    The woman who had apparently lost control of her dog got a hold of the leash and then marched angrily at Jacob. ¡°How could you let your dog out without a leash?¡±


    Jacob looked down at the petrified dog, which was doing its best to hide behind him, and countered, ¡°It¡¯s not mine. How could you let go of your dog, you have to keep a tighter hold on him.¡±


    The woman suddenly looked apologetic, and then admitted sheepishly she would do better. Jacob found it frustrating how some people would immediately look for someone else to blame, and as she walked away, he bent over and held out a hand for the small white dog, bloodied and scared, to smell.


    ¡°Hey there buddy, are you okay?¡± He said soothingly, and the dog came over with a limp and licked his hand. ¡°Good boy, I¡¯m going to pick you up, okay.¡± He gently cusped the dog and lifted it up, and it didn¡¯t resist. He looked it up and down and saw that it had a few scratches and bite marks on its body, its teeth looked broken, and then said in realization, ¡°Girl! Who¡¯s a good girl?¡± The dog licked its lips and whimpered, but its tail wagged happily.


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    Jacob stepped into the veterinarian and checked the time on his phone, he could still make it on time. He walked to the front desk and said, ¡°Excuse me, I found this dog injured out in town, and wanted to bring her in for medical treatment.¡±


    ¡°Oh baby, what happened?¡± the nurse asked the dog, though the question was clearly meant for him, and Jacob explained what had happened. Once he was done, she said, ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll take her into the back, and we¡¯ll get her cleaned up and see if we can¡¯t find out who the owners are. Just a moment, I¡¯m going to have a few more questions.¡± She put a cheap leash around the dog, and it growled and pulled at it, trying to get back to Jacob.


    Shortly, the woman came back and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but could you come back, the dog seems to be in a panic since we separated it from you, and we were wondering if you would be able to help calm her down.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, sure.¡± Jacob was guided into a medical room, and the dog was in the corner growling with its hackles up, but as soon as it saw Jacob it yipped quietly and limped over to him.


    ¡°Could you go ahead and pick her up and put it on the table please?¡± Jacob listened and put the dog up, where the vet got out a needle and stuck it into the dog¡¯s back, bunching up a bit of skin. The dog whined, but licked Jacob¡¯s hand while she issued the shot.


    The dog looked up at Jacob with watering eyes, yawned and then fell asleep. ¡°Is she going to be okay?¡±


    ¡°She will, though it looks like the poor girl was being used as a bait dog.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, a what?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s something awful they do in dogfighting. They¡¯re a dog they use to help train up other dogs¡¯ aggression. I don¡¯t know how you found her, but she¡¯s lucky you did.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to her?¡±


    ¡°For now, we¡¯re going to give her some basic medical attention. We¡¯re not going to bother with looking for the owners, they won¡¯t come forward, and we wouldn¡¯t return her to them if they did. We¡¯ll have to take her to the pound, where hopefully someone will adopt her, though unfortunately with how beaten up she is and how aggressive she was being towards us, she probably won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What happens if no one adopts her?¡±


    ¡°¡­ She¡¯ll be put asleep.¡±


    Jacob looked at the dog, which while torn up was sleeping so peacefully. ¡°How much does it cost to adopt?¡±


    The pickup truck rolled up to the front of the clinic, and Jacob waved while cradling the dog in his other arm. She had all the fur shaved off the right side of her face with several stiches and had additional shaved spots around her body for more stitches, creating a patchwork and ugly looking dog. She had a cone around her head, and she panted quite happily while nestling in Jacob¡¯s arm.


    Jacob walked up to the truck, a purple Ram, and opened the passenger side where his father looked at him unamused, ¡°Son, that is an ugly dog.¡±


    ¡°Her name¡¯s Lily.¡±


    ¡°Pretty name for an ugly dog. You¡¯re late for the party.¡±


    ¡°I know, I got caught up.¡±


    ¡°Caught up?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I lost my job and on the way to the toy story I saw this dog being attacked and-.¡±


    ¡°Hold on, you lost your job!?¡±


    ¡°¡­ Yeah.¡± Jacob¡¯s father stared at him and shook his head while sighing. There was an awkward silence, and finally he put the vehicle in drive and took off. ¡°Dad, I can explain.¡±


    ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t. I¡¯m tired of being disappointed.¡± Jacob didn¡¯t have a response to that. He looked down at the torn-up dog, which licked his face. He was tired of disappointing people as well.


    They pulled into the driveway and Jacob jumped out onto the gravel, scratching Lily¡¯s belly which she didn¡¯t seem to like or dislike either way and was perfectly content laying back in his arm. Twilight was finally setting, and Mary stepped out from behind the house, and and stormed over angrily. Jacob saw smoke coming from the backyard, and assumed they were out there grilling or had a fire set up for s¡¯mores. Jacob¡¯s father nodded at her, and said, ¡°I¡¯ll be in the house getting the cake ready.¡±


    Mary stopped a few feet from Jacob and crossed her arms, ¡°Where have you been? Is that a dog?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I got caught up. Uh, yeah, this is Lily. She¡¯s Allison¡¯s birthday present.¡±


    She gawked at him in disbelief, ¡°You got her a dog without asking me first? And look at it, the thing looks like its about to die from fleas!¡± Jacob glanced down at the dog, which stared back at him and seemed to smile.


    ¡°She¡¯s trying her best.¡±


    Mary uncrossed her arms to rub her temples, ¡°Listen, Jacob, I know you¡¯re trying. You haven¡¯t been a part of Allison¡¯s life for the past ten years, but I need you to stop acting like the stupid high schooler you used to be, and act like a father.¡±


    ¡°Mary, I¡¯m trying.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not. Trying would be showing up to her birthday party on time. Trying would be getting the present I told you to get, not some random mutt. You don¡¯t even know if Allison is allergic!¡±


    ¡°Is she allergic?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s besides the point!¡±


    ¡°Listen, it just kind of came up.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear it.¡±


    ¡°Daddy,¡± the young girl¡¯s voice rang out and she came running from behind the house and embraced Jacob¡¯s leg. ¡°You¡¯re here! You¡¯re here! This is the best birthday ever!¡±


    Jacob let out a nervous laugh and bent down to hug Allison with his free arm. ¡°Yeah, how¡¯s the birthday kid?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m great. Is that a puppy!¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Her name¡¯s Lily.¡±


    ¡°OMG! Is she my birthday present?¡±


    Jacob glanced up at Mary for approval, and she shook her head and shrugged in defeat, ¡°Um, yeah, she is.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s so adorable! What happened to her face? Can I hold her, can I hold her?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, be gentle.¡± Jacob handed the dog carefully, and Allison held it with two hands. The dog licked her on the nose, and she giggled gleefully.


    ¡°She¡¯s got a cone on her head,¡± she laughed.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ She¡¯s¡­ She¡¯s a little beat up, but I think she loves you very much, and just wants to be a part of your life. She¡¯ll try to be the best dog she can be, just for you.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s perfect, thank you daddy,¡± The little girl turned back and told Mary, ¡°Mom! I¡¯m going to go show all my friends!¡±


    ¡°You do that sweetheart.¡±


    She cheered and ran to the backyard with the dog, which looked over the shoulder at Jacob and wagged her tail happily.


    ¡°Well, where¡¯s her leash, and dog food, and everything else.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ couldn¡¯t afford any of that.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean you couldn¡¯t afford it?¡±


    ¡°I got fired today.¡±


    Mary looked at him in frustration, ¡°So you got a dog!?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t planned, it just sort of happened.¡±


    She sighed, ¡°Listen I get it, you feel like you and that dog have a lot in common. You¡¯ve struggled, and are trying to be a good father, but this isn¡¯t it. Allison has always wanted a father, and I¡¯m alright letting you in. But I can¡¯t have you ruining this. Don¡¯t make me regret letting you into her life.


    ¡°¡­ Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize, just do better.¡±


    Jacob sighed, that was easy to say when people didn¡¯t just toss you to the side like used garbage the moment they learned the first thing about you. Still, he was going to get through this. He was going to be a good father. ¡°Does dad need help in the kitchen?¡±


    Mary shrugged, ¡°He shouldn¡¯t, but you can go check. Your brother, Dan, is there too. He brought his dog as well, but at least he had the common sense to ask before bringing it, and he didn¡¯t try pawning it off onto his daughter.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go check up on them. I¡¯m sorry Mary, and I promise, I¡¯ll do better.¡±


    Mary sighed again and walked back to the backyard. Jacob opened the front door and walked down the entranceway to where he knew the kitchen was. He stared down at the floor. That was a pig. That was a pig, with black, dull eyes just looking at him while standing there. In the kitchen. It snorted.


    ¡°What in the world?¡± Jacob looked around, and saw the cake on the counter, but no one else. ¡°Dad? Dan? Where are you guys at.¡± He glanced down at the pig, which snorted again derisively. ¡°Dang Dan, you gained some weight,¡± Jacob joked and then began walking around the counter to where the pantry was before his foot kicked something. He looked down and saw a foot.


    Chills ran down his spine, and he looked around the counter, placing his back to the pantry. He put his hand over his mouth as he recognized the clothes and realized it was his dad on the floor, with one thing missing. One very important thing. Instead of a head, there was a puddle of blood and a stump. Jacob went to call out, when suddenly the pantry door swung open, and a hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed.


    Beads of blood were instantly drawn from his neck as it tightened and wrung the air out of his throat, and a white-hot pain pierced his neck at multiple points. He tried to wrestle the hand off, but when he groped it, he let go in pain and looked at bloody scratch marks on his own hand where he had tried. The hand that now strangled him was wearing a cowhide glove, which was wrapped and tangled in barbed wire. Jacob¡¯s eyes rolled back, and he went limp.


    He came to a moment later, sprawled out on his chest. He started to pick himself up, but a boot slammed into his back and pinned him to the kitchen tile. Around the corner walked the pig, which snorted enthusiastically. Jacob tried to scream, but the punctures in his neck caused a wet, windy sound instead.


    The pig took a step forward. Jacob tried to scream again. The pig stepped forward again and opened its mouth. Finally, Jacob managed to scream, but that was not the sound that erupted from his mouth. Instead, came the squeal of a hog. The black beast bit into his face.

 Six Years Later

    Ally woke up and groaned as her phone¡¯s alarm went off, playing Nirvana, it was Monday, the worst day of the week. She reached over and turned off her alarm and turned over. Just five more minutes.


    ¡°Ally, get up, you¡¯re going to be late for school!¡± her mom yelled, and she rolled over to see that it had been thirty minutes since her alarm. Dang, that was going to be a crunch. Ally got out of bed and tripped over her dirty laundry from the day before. She caught herself on the dresser and looked in the mirror, which had a small layer of dust. A blue-eyed, pale girl with messy brunette hair stared back at her. The top of her desk was covered in random toys from her childhood, memorabilia she had taken to collecting, and clean clothes she¡¯d been too lazy to fold and throw in her dresser. Her mom would likely yell at her to clean her room soon as she grabbed her shoes from a corner and started forcing on some clothes.


    Everything she owned was from Goodwill and was just a tad too baggy so that she could, as her mom would say, ¡°Grow into it,¡± despite the fact she hadn¡¯t grown any bigger since she was fourteen. Ally¡¯s mom couldn¡¯t afford to get her the latest crazes of fashion. Being a single mother didn¡¯t really afford one to be cavalier with one¡¯s finances. Still, Ally was allowed to search for hours for her ideal clothes through the aisles, and she had assembled quite a cute collection of clothes.


    Ally grabbed a pair of jeans, a black shirt with an old eighties band logo on the front of it, and a pink zip-up sweater to put over it before running to the bathroom and grabbing her flat iron. She looked down at her phone and saw she had fifteen minutes before the bus arrived. In that case she would skip breakfast, she wasn¡¯t going to show up to school looking homeless. She started straightening her hair, making occasional passes at the time.


    That was all the time she had, she unplugged the iron and looked at the mess in the mirror and quickly decided to put it up in a ponytail, that would cover up the rush job. She grabbed her makeup kit and put on some lipstick and mascara. That would do, luckily, she hadn¡¯t broken out anywhere so she could afford to go a day without applying any foundation or blush.


    She ran out to the entranceway, where her backpack was, and scooped it up while zipping it up. The bus would be there any minute and she opened the door. ¡°Honey, wait! Breakfast.¡± Ally turned around and saw her mom handing her a homemade breakfast burrito and grabbed it without thanks. Looked like she had anticipated her opting for her appearance over her well being that morning and spent the time covering for her. Ally turned around and ran out the door and took off towards the end of her driveway.


    Just in time, the bus rolled up to the gravel and she stepped inside to receive the instant scent of too much deodorant and perfume as every other teen onboard attempted to mask the awkward smell of puberty with whatever product they could get their hands on.


    She stepped down to the back of the bus, where most of the seniors and juniors would sit, as few as they were. All of them, like her, had parents who couldn¡¯t afford to buy them a vehicle, forcing them to still take the bus to school. Some kids were lucky and could hide their misfortune by walking home or were close enough to one of the local businesses that they could walk to a job long enough to afford an old beater on their own. Out in the country, you couldn¡¯t get anywhere without a vehicle, and there was no way to be employed if you didn¡¯t have a license unless you were prepared for a multi-hour walk.


    Ally talked to her friends at the lunch table about the weekend and the upcoming homecoming game that would be that Friday. Supposedly there were going to be a few large reunions this year at the game, and they were expecting a crowd larger than the stands could even accommodate. The school had decorated the halls in banners of the school colors of black and blue welcoming back the different alumni, even though the game itself would be outside at the track and football field. They would be opening the gym, cafeteria, and auditorium for a dance after, and the alumni had booked a local band to play while they reminisced their high school days.


    Ally¡¯s mom would be there as well, as the class of ¡¯05 had put out on Facebook that they would making a point to make this a big get together after their ten-year anniversary had to be cancelled due to homecoming game being cancelled by bad weather. Corona had delayed their ability to make it up, and after the pandemic they had decided this would be the year they would all meet up and catch up, seeing what they had been up to for the second half of their lives so far.


    After lunch was U.S. History, and she doodled in her notebook while the teacher droned on and on about nothing that mattered.


    ¡°Ally.¡±


    She was currently drawing a nice rendition of her dog, who she had taken to drawing portraits of in her free time.


    ¡°Ally!¡±


    She looked up and realized the whole class was staring at her and then stared back at Mr. Hansen, who was looking quite unamused back at her. ¡°What?¡± The teacher didn¡¯t blink as the class laughed.


    ¡°I asked that now we were done discussing the rise of horizontal integration monopolies, what the class thought was vertical integration meant?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡±


    Mr. Hansen had her attention, so he eased the tension with a smile, ¡°Its fine, no wrong answers.¡±


    ¡°They¡­ had taller hotels?¡± The class laughed.


    He shook his head, and then called on Aaron from the front row as he had achieved his objective of forcing Ally to pay attention. She closed her notebook and glanced around to figure out what page they were on for their history books.


    At the end of the lesson Mr. Hansen handed out their graded assignments from a project they had turned in last week on the American Revolution. He handed the packet to Ally and said, ¡°I have some notes to help you improve next time in there. We can discuss it in detail later if you want during your study hall.¡±


    Ally looked down and saw the D- staring back at her. ¡°Alright,¡± she mumbled and jostled out into the chaos of the hallway as the school erupted in euphoria as the day ended and everyone tried to rush to get home and Ally got back to her locker, and loaded up the homework she hadn¡¯t had a chance to finish in study hall.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Another trip on the bus took her home forty-five minutes later and she walked to her bedroom and threw herself on the pink sheets of her bed while dropping her bag to the ground. Her dog, Lily, who was sleeping in the living room must have heard her because a second later she jumped up onto her bed and disappeared with a whoosh into the cushioning of her comforter, before awkwardly trying to jump over her own indents to reach Ally.


    ¡°Hey, girl, ready to go outside?¡±


    ¡°Bark?¡±


    ¡°Outside, outside!¡± Ally said in puppy-speak and leapt out of the bed.


    ¡°Bark! Bark!¡± Lily jumped off the bed and sailed through the air before landing on the ground, her legs failing to catch her leg and her body hit the ground before bouncing off and bounding off cartoonishly towards the door, her little legs whirling hysterically on the ground as her paws slid on the smooth wooden floors.


    They had moved to their current home into the township of Clayton from Hazelwood after the incident. Most of the towns out in the country were too small to even have their own post office, and Clayton served as the city for the mailing address of residents across multiple towns. The change in location from Hazelwood, only ten minutes away, was supposed to help Ally and her mom distance themselves from what had happened so they could move on, which Ally had readily done. Her mom, however, still struggled with that day.


    Lily was running circles in front of the door when Ally managed to catch up to her, a white tornado of poorly restrained excitement, and Ally opened the door as the dog bolted like lightning into the yard, walked five feet into the grass, and immediately started peeing.


    Lily looked back and smiled her broken smile, her teeth a jagged mess from before Ally had gotten her from abuse. The dog, despite the experience, loved people, quickly warmed up to the family and followed Ally everywhere. The scars on her body had been quickly covered up by fur, and the only sign of damage was a couple of healed gashes on her snout and brow.


    Lily began sniffing around the yard while she looked for somewhere to poo, finished her business, and then ran back to the front porch to proudly declare with a bark that her official business was concluded, and she was ready to go back inside. Ally smiled, praised her, and the two walked back inside where they both went to the living room and Ally turned on the TV while the dog cuddled up in her lap and wagged her tail.


    The afternoon news was on the local channel, and Ally watched as the anchor walked through the oh-so-very-exciting news of Indiana. So, in essence, boring. Some big shot CEO of Lamb had recently announced they were changing their headquarters to Indianapolis, there was a new type of crime in the inner city aimed at old homes, and finally the news changed to something that made Ally become very still.


    Lily looked up at her and tilted her head to the side quizzically as she felt Ally¡¯s demeanor change, saw she was looking intently at the television, and stared at it with her in confusion as the news anchor said, ¡°We would like to advise now that if there are any younger members in our audience, that parents and guardians have them leave the room for our next story. Today marks the anniversary of the first murder in the Hazelwood serial killer case, and police are asking that anyone come forward with information to help them find the killer, who has been at large for seven years.¡±


    ¡°While there are no prime suspects, witnesses report a man in jeans, boots, a tan Carhartt jacket, with varying descriptions of his head and face, all agreeing that he appears white as paper. He is approximately six-two and is believed to be in his mid-twenties. His first sighting was at the residency of Mary Thomas, where he killed three people and attempted to murder the owner on the day of her daughter¡¯s birthday party, but this was not considered his first crime.


    ¡°Police theorize that he first struck on this day the prior year as he was still refining his modus operandi and signature with the death of Philip Conway. The following description, while disturbing, we believe is important to understand so that viewers know what to look out for in the perpetrator.


    ¡°The murders are carried out by incapacitating the victims in any way, but the murder method is always the same way. Victims are decapitated, and witnesses claim that it is achieved by having one or more pigs eat their heads alive.


    ¡°Police say the killer always murders in bouts of threes and prefers to leave a survivor to witness his crime. Police have yet to find the killer when called and attempts to capture him or gather additional evidence on him have been met with difficulty.  To this date, he has murdered nineteen victims, killing about once a year, though has been rising in frequency.¡±


    The TV turned off, and Ally turned to see that her mother had entered and picked up the remote and was looking at the television in horror. ¡°Mom, I-,¡±


    ¡°I need a moment.¡±


    ¡°Mom, I can explain, I-,¡±


    ¡°Allison, please!¡±


    Ally fell silent, her mom had refused to call her Allison since her tenth birthday party, instead opting to call her Ally ever since. It seemed to be part of her way of distancing herself from the incident, but when she was deeply upset, she would still say her full first name.


    Ally stared at her mom who held herself while shaking and walked around to let herself into the kitchen. She got out a pan, and started cooking the meal that her mom was originally going to make. It was the least she could do while Mary was in the living room coping.


    Ally poked at her food, cream of mushroom soup mixed with rice and baked with chicken on top, and looked over at her mom, who was moodily eating her food. Finally, Mary broke the silence and said, ¡°So Mr. Hansen was supposed to finish grading your history project today. How¡¯d it go?¡±


    Ally winced, Mary was trying to change subjects to something lighter, but unfortunately her grade was going to give her a conniption and she knew it. ¡°I got a D-.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°I got a D-.¡±


    Ally¡¯s mom set her fork down and looked at her in disappointment, ¡°Are you kidding me? I thought I told you not to procrastinate on it!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then why¡¯d you get a D-? I know you¡¯re smarter than that.¡±


    Ally shrugged, angering Mary more, who continued, ¡°You need to get better grades, you need to get into college. I just don¡¯t want you to end up a failure like-.¡±


    ¡°Like dad?¡± Ally interjected with irritation.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want me to end up like a failure like dad.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that.¡±


    ¡°You did to grandma on the phone last night.¡±


    Mary sighed, ¡°You heard that.¡± Ally didn¡¯t bother answering, it was apparent she had been. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t mean any disrespect to your father, especially considering¡­¡± her voice trailed as she looked miserably at her food.


    The two finished in silence, and finally Mary attempted again, ¡°Ally, I know you wanted your father to be there for you, and I know he was trying. I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a failure, and your grades have nothing to do with what happened with your father. Hell, he was an honor student all through high school. But I saw what a stupid decision could do to destroy his life, and I just don¡¯t want you to make the same mistakes, big like his, or small like mine. I want what¡¯s best for you.¡±


    ¡°I know, mom,¡± Ally said and hugged Mary.


    That evening the two were getting ready for bed and were both in their pajamas before sitting down to watch the evening news together, which started at ten¡¯ o¡¯clock. The anchors ran through the same news as had been on during the evening, with some additional news added here and there, before they got to their final story of the evening. While normally the two would finish the news together, as part of their evening ritual since Ally started high school, tonight Mary turned it off as soon as the news story on the bottom changed to the text, ¡®The Headless Hog Farmer of Hazelwood, still at large.¡¯

 The First Dream

    Ally laid down in bed, with her dog curled in a ball at her feet slowly drifting to sleep. As she let sleep take her, she felt Lily stand up, and walk up to the head of the bed.


    The hoarfrost coated everything, and a chill in the air caused her breath to puff out in clouds. She was in the fetal position on the ground but was not uncomfortable or startled by her location as she got up from her position and looked towards the main source of light which flickered and sparkled off the ice crystals.


    It was her old house, ghostly and crumbling, as blue flames licked and danced across it. She looked around, recognizing the backyard she had been in on the day of her father¡¯s murder. Everything was awash azure, the bonfire that had been her home dominating everything to the yard¡¯s end, where the woods began and marked where she had not been allowed to cross as a child.


    Something tugged at her pajamas leg, and she looked down to see Lily, who looked up with an intelligence in her eyes that Ally had never seen before, as if she was older and smarter than any being Ally had ever met before. The dog turned away from her and walked away from the house, and towards the woods, not bothering to check if she was following.


    ¡°Lily! Get back here!¡± Ally hissed in a whisper, but the dog didn¡¯t glance back like she normally did and disappeared into the brush. ¡°Lily! Mom says we¡¯re not¡­ supposed to¡­ enter the woods?¡± Ally glanced back towards the house, which crackled, and realized that this wasn¡¯t her home. They hadn¡¯t lived there for years, and why was she here? Was this a dream?


    She walked up to the woods and hesitated before crossing the threshold, and then stepped into the dead, overgrown foliage. Winter always killed much of the plant life in the forests of Indiana, which would serve as fertilizers for the seeds next spring while the long-lived plants hibernated through the chill.


    Ally stepped out into a forest clearing and looked around before a bark helped her turn to see Lily staring at her near a path that led away into darkness. She ran after her, but Lily calmly turned around and kept a brisk pace just fast enough that Ally couldn¡¯t quite catch up, so she slowed to a walk and let the dog lead the way. As she did, the trees became taller, the air colder, and the dead foliage cleared away so that she could finally see far into the woods, and yet still the dog walked. Lily led on and on, until there was no path, only the spread of tree trunks every few feet and their roots weaving across the ground.


    ¡°Lily, where are we going?¡± The dog did not answer her, but she caught something around one of the trees and hesitated to try and get a better look at it, but it moved too quickly as it headed the same direction as her and Lily. There was another figure, black, another white, black and white, white and black. Each had glowing blue eyes, but she couldn¡¯t quite make out what they were, and each headed in the same direction as Lily, and ultimately, Ally. ¡°Lily, hold on!¡± But she paid Ally no heed as she continued deeper into the trees which cast long shadows in the moonlight that split open the clouds at that moment, illuminating Ally¡¯s surroundings.


    The shadows moving through the woods were cats and dogs, all varying sizes. Some cats looked like they belonged in the zoo, and others at home in an alley. The dogs were as varied as the cats, but there was something they all had in common. Some were white, others were black, and all had glowing blue eyes. And all of them had the same alien intelligence behind Lily¡¯s eyes.


    Ally thought she would feel fear, but instead there was nothing. It was as if she knew every one of these beasts, as if they were as familiar as Lily. She felt herself realizing they had always been there with her, which was utter insanity as she had never seen them before. But that was it wasn¡¯t it? She hadn¡¯t seen them before. But that didn¡¯t mean they hadn''t always been there with her. That thought struck her, and rather than filling her with fear, it instead comforted her.


    The animals came together thicker and thicker, and she knew they were coming from all directions as they closed in on their destination. The roots came to a halt, and Ally stepped into a large clearing where there was a great beast lying on its side in the middle, curled up, with its back facing Ally. Lily came to a halt, and sat down, as did many of the other creatures, to stare at the creature intensely.


    There was sadness in the air, sympathy and empathy, dancing through the eyes of all the animals, but not one breathed a whisper in the air, staring at the great beast, which was as large as a cow. Ally saw it had black shaggy hair, but it didn¡¯t appear to be built the same way as a cat or dog. It was bulkier, and more heavy-set. It was also malnourished, and she could tell it was shivering in the cold, something that still didn¡¯t seem to bother her. Its ribs shined through, and she carefully stepped up to it and placed a hand on it.


    The thing moved slowly, carefully, and she could tell it was being careful not to hurt her as the creature lifted its head up, stood up, and oriented itself to look Ally in the face. It was a boar, with sharp, stout tusks, a wrinkled face, and its legs trembled under the burden of its weight, weak from its malnourishment. It snorted once, and glowing azure eyes stared into Ally¡¯s eyes unblinkingly. There was sadness there, and tears poured down its face as if in mourning though the beast didn¡¯t say a word.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ally lifted a hand and placed it on its snout, and the pig let out a light snort. It turned away and lumbered off into the woods. The other cats and dogs let it by, stepping to the side before closing the gap to the clearing once more. Ally moved to follow, but a tug at her pant leg made her glance down and she saw Lily pulling on her. She shook her head sadly. There was nothing Ally could do. There was nothing anyone could do for the great boar, which disappeared into the darkness as it continued whatever journey had brought it to such a dreadful state. Its burden was its to bear alone, and Ally thought it odd such a thought would cross her mind.


    There was a howl, and then another, and Ally swung her head around as every dog sat down and threw its head to the sky in song. At the same time the cats, big and small, began roaring and mewing, hissing, and clawing, and Ally felt the air begin to churn and pull from her, as something prepared for arrival.


    It danced across the treetops, jumping lithely and full of grace as its legs touched upon each tree without sound, without breaking a single branch. It jumped down to the center of the clearing, and Ally realized that the new arrival was as large as a school bus. It landed with a whirlwind that caused her to shield her eyes, and when finally, the clearing became still she looked up to behold the majesty that had arrived.


    It was white as snow, pure in its visage, with fur that was several inches long and billowed in the air as hair would in the water. It had an indeterminable number of legs, with too many joints and too many paws, but it was clearly both feline and canine in nature. The beast was beautiful and had a curved and graceful back with a full mane around its neck that stretched further than one would expect for either a cat or dog. Instead of a head though, there was a black mask without eyes sunken into the fur where a head should be, neither canine, feline, nor vulpine, yet somehow all of them at the same time. The mask was big enough to fit Ally¡¯s face, and its disproportionate size seemed out of place on the otherwise giant beast. Its tail was as long as its neck, and swished side to side, sometimes like a cat, and sometimes wagging like one would expect a dog to. It was impossible to tell the ecology of the thing, but one thing was clear. It was royal and majestic, divine and pure, ancient and wise, primal and powerful. It was not to be feared, nor was it to be trifled with. The mask glanced around the clearing, but looked above and beyond where Ally stood, never coming close to making eye contact with her, if it had eyes to see her with in the first place


    A voice sounded from it and was that of a small child. Despite that, it spoke with age and maturity, creating a strange dichotomy of both youth and wisdom that was ever so alien. ¡°My missing avatar has left, lost, and broken. Come my eyes, we must continue the search!¡±


    Ally felt compelled to respond, ¡°Do you mean the boar?¡±


    The beast¡¯s head jerked, and its neck craned in the direction of Ally, but the mask still looked over her, as if it couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Oh? Do we have a visitor in my realm?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ hi?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, child. Tell me do you hear my voice?¡±


    ¡°I-I do?¡±


    ¡°Do you see me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The beast¡¯s head swung around blindly, unable to quite pinpoint Ally¡¯s location, and bemusement broke into its voice as it commented, ¡°Curious. Tell me, what brought you into my realm, where only the avatars play, child?¡±


    Ally felt a lump in her throat and swallowed. Somehow, she knew there would be no lying to this being, ¡°I followed my dog.¡±


    ¡°Brought by an avatar, I see. Tell me, was your last memory before arriving here laying your head to sleep? Did you arrive like a dream carried by the wind?¡±


    Ally cocked her head to the side and realized she had gone to bed before waking up here, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°So, I brought you here, but have no recollection of doing so. Curious indeed. Tell me, child, what is it you see, when you behold me?¡±


    Ally began to answer, but the beast suddenly hissed, ¡°Silence child. Answer me in a single word. Reveal to me you see me with but a single word. If you do not, I will leave you here, and use you as bait for the boar.¡±


    Something about that last statement felt dangerous, but Ally felt no fear as she instantly felt only one word could even begin to describe the scene before her in the moonlight. ¡°Beauty.¡±


    The creature laid down and its neck continued to crane and move aimlessly as it failed to see Ally, ¡°Hm, hm, hm. Beauty indeed. You see my true form and are not like the trespasser, wicked in his intents. In that case, child, I shall reward you for your power of sight. I will tell you your fortune, so that I may not behold you for years to come. Few ever receive such a blessing. Do you accept?¡±


    Ally couldn¡¯t find a reason to deny the creature. ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Child, what is your name, so that I may recall you?¡± The creature bent over and tilted its head, as if to listen.


    ¡°Ally.¡±


    ¡°Allison Thomas, daughter of Mary and Jacob¡­ hm, hm, hm. What a coincidental conjoining. Heed my words, and heed them well. The wolf shall approach you, cloaked in sheep¡¯s clothing. Sign not the contract, or risk meeting the boar. Follow these words, and it will be many winters before I find your gaze.¡±


    Ally crinkled her nose, ¡°Wait, I don¡¯t understand!¡±


    ¡°Time my child, is something only I can spare. Fear not, though I do not find your gaze, I am always with you. I am with all of you. Until I see and claim all.¡±


    Nirvana''s music rang through Ally¡¯s bedroom, and she woke up with a jolt and looked around and put her face in her hands and groaned. What a bizarre dream, likely brought on by seeing the news story about her father¡¯s killer. Still, something about all of it felt so real. Stranger too, she could remember the dream as lividly as if it had just occurred.


    Allison lowered her hands and leaned back into her pillow and mumbled, ¡°The wolf shall approach you, cloaked in sheep¡¯s clothing. Sign not the contract, or risk meeting the boar.¡± What utter nonsense.

 Homecoming Night

    Josh Gibson, Tyler Scott, Elijah Anderson, and James Davidson pulled up in their individual vehicles into driveway of the Gibson farm, which was three-hundred acres with the golden stalks of corn lining the vastness of the property in Hazelwood. The driveway reached all the way down the property, bordered by the rows of corn on each side before ending at the two-story brick house and several acres of woods beyond it. The boys had spent many summers together in that wooded backyard, and following their defeat at the homecoming football game, had decided to spend the Friday evening together.


    The childhood friends wore their blue and black letterman jackets, displaying their jersey numbers on their right arms, and their graduation number on their left. It was their final homecoming game, and their defeat was a letdown, if not entirely unsurprising. If one was to travel out of Clayton, they would find the neighboring towns would often take bets on how badly they would lose against the neighboring high schools. This was in large part since the high school was smaller than many of the other athletic programs of the larger nearby towns.


    It was an evening of joking and laughing, while ignoring the fact they had lost their last big game of their senior year. Two German shepherds sat at the fire with the boys, nibbling on bones that had been given to them for the evening. It was both a relief to be done with homecoming, yet a melancholy feeling as they all realized that this was the last time they would likely hang out after a game like they were doing now.


    Josh excused himself from the group, ¡°Sorry guys, I have to take a quick leak.¡± The others acknowledged, and Tyler asked Josh to bring a log for the fire on his way back. He got up and pulled his phone out, turning the light on and made his way into the brush. Immediately a pair of round orbs lit up under the illumination, and he walked by and smiled at his black cat, ¡°Evening Felix, where¡¯s your sister at tonight?¡± Scratch the cat was shy and had spotted fur compared to her bold brother, who stared after Josh as he walked away.


    Unbeknownst to Josh, who was unable to get a good look at the cat¡¯s eye color in the dark, it had changed from a dull green into a vibrant blue, and as it followed after him the eyes saw that the boy was marked for failure.


    The blessing was becoming desperate, straining the definitions of its constraints in an attempt to fulfill its purpose.


    Josh found himself a tree and put one hand against it while unzipping his pants and taking aim, prompting his phone up on a stump by him so that he had some light. The hiss of his stream filled the crisp, autumn air, and he sighed in relief, when suddenly something blocked his light. It was probably one of his friends.


    ¡°What are you up to,¡± he turned to ask before his voice started to trail, ¡°¡­back¡­ there?¡± In front of his phone stood a white and black-spotted pig, which stared at him silently. Josh couldn¡¯t help but think of the serial killer who had been running amok in the town, but there was no way he would be targeting him would he?


    He turned and hurried to his business, and was getting ready to zip his pants when he heard a sudden shuffling of branches behind him and turned to see just in time something swinging at his head. Josh ducked, and the tree trunk exploded in splinters as what became apparent was an arm crashed into it. Josh had but a moment to process the impossibility of the figure now standing over him, shrouded in shadow, and had the strength to crack open a tree with a bare fist. Years on the farm had honed Josh¡¯s muscles, yet even he wouldn¡¯t have been able to take such a large chunk of the tree out even if he had been building an axe.


    A shiver ran down his spine, a shiver that betrayed his own mortality, now licking and lapping at his mind like a starved swine. That thought hit him, and he turned back to see the pig now approaching him, and he tried to run while crying, ¡°Help!¡± Unfortunately, in his panic, in his fear, in his horror he forgot something so simple that it would bring his world crashing down upon him. He took two steps before his unzipped pants fell to his ankles causing him to trip and collapse on the ground. ¡°Help me!¡± He cried again.


    The figure in the dark didn¡¯t turn towards him, instead taking its other arm and punching the tree again. A terrifying crack occurred, followed by another and another, faster and faster, and the Hog Farmer stepped away to let his lethal work be done as the tree fell.


    Josh scrambled on the autumn leaves, which crackled and snapped, but his fate was sealed and the tree fell with a terrible sound directly on his back, knocking the wind out of him and pinning him all at once.


    Tyler was the first to arrive at the scene, and he took one look at his friend, the pig now approaching him, and the figure in the dark before realizing what was going on. He rushed the man who stepped back into darkness and tackled him, disappearing into shadows. ¡°Help Josh!¡± he ordered his friends.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Elijah and James arrived, both carrying flashlights, and Josh suddenly screamed in pain as the pig bit his hair and pulled, ripping it out. Elijah cursed and grabbed a sturdy stick made from one of the branches of the felled tree to swing at the pig, which squealed in fear and cowered away from his swing while James dropped his flashlight and attempted to pick up the tree.


    ¡°Hurry up!¡± Elijah said, as the pig peered into him from the deep abyss of its eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying, it¡¯s too heavy!¡±


    At that point another pig, this one black, emerged from where they had come, apparently following them. Behind it were a pair of larger swine, nearly identical, brown, with their fur turning near black as night as it approached their back. They snorted and snuffed as they oinked along and approached Josh, who now having recovered his breath a bit, was struggling to help James pull the trunk off him.


    Elijah swung again as the pigs surrounded them, each trying to look for a gap to get at Josh¡¯s exposed head, which had a pronounced bald spot where his hair had been pulled out that now beaded with blood from where the roots had been torn asunder. They squealed and snorted, but Elijah would pay them no quarter as he defended Josh. Josh¡¯s phone fell over from the stump, better illuminating the scene before Elijah as in the distance orange campfire light danced.


    There was the sound of rushing air, and an object flew over Elijah¡¯s head before hitting a tree and crumbling to the ground. The light showed Tyler, face now bloodied, who began to shake violently on the ground as if in seizure. Elijah stared dumbstruck, before turning to see from whence Tyler had been propelled. From the brush emerged the assailant, and James picked his flashlight up and turned it upon him so they could finally see the man. ¡°Oh my god¡­¡± He breathed as his heart skipped in terror, before starting up again in overdrive sending adrenaline racing through his veins.


    The man wore tan boots, covered in dried mud that was caked on the bottom of his working jeans that hung over and covered the laces. He wore a Carhartt, which had a trail of fresh blood leaking down from its collar and glistened sweetly in the light, flies despite being out of season dancing silently around it for succulent sustenance. Each hand was clad in cowhide, but only one had barbed wire tangled around it and his forearm, wound so tightly that it seemed to draw his own blood. This was not what sent the boys into survival mode as they bore witness to the horror before him.


    It was the bleeding, pulsating neck, blood squirting an inch into the air with each labored breath. It was the lack of a head, instead a gaping hole where one should be. It was not cleanly cut, indeed it looked like something had bitten into it, one bite at a time, as if slowly consuming the head.


    James was the first to recover from his stupor, and roared as he reached down and managed to move the trunk. Josh quickly pulled himself out from under, as Elijah threw the tree branch that he had been using to ward off the hogs at the monster before them. It cracked in half across his chest, but the man took only a step back to steady himself.


    A terrible series of bony crunches erupted behind the three, who turned back to see the pigs digging into Tyler, and Elijah broke. His brain shut off all thought that wasn¡¯t geared to escape. He had to run. He needed to run. He was running. As fast as he could. He had left his flashlight, but that was unimportant. All that mattered was running.


    Run.


    Run.


    Run!


    Until he ran right into the tree branch that he failed to see in the dark. He cried out and fell to the ground, holding onto his face as he picked himself up and struggled to reorient himself. The campfire, he needed to make his way back to the campfire, but he saw stars as he struggled to find where he was. To make matters worse, the fire log had never been brought to the fire pit, and its embers were finally fading away enough that he couldn¡¯t locate them.


    He felt his way around, trying to find his way, until he heard sobbing. Elijah realized that the sobbing couldn¡¯t possibly have come from the headless monster he had witnessed earlier and began feeling his way towards it as it grew closer and closer.


    Finally, he felt he was close enough that he could risk trying to hail it. ¡°Psst, Tyler? James? Josh? Is that you.¡±


    They crying became quieter, and then finally a young man¡¯s voice, quivering and broken responded through the dark. ¡°N-no. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry. I didn¡¯t want for this to happen!¡±


    ¡°Who is that?¡±


    ¡°Pl-please. You have to run away.¡±


    Elijah felt somewhat strengthened by the fact that as uneasy as he was, this individual seemed much more shaken than he was. Whoever it was, perhaps they could work together to get out of this. ¡°It¡¯s okay, we¡¯re going to get out of this together.¡±


    ¡°N-no. I won¡¯t do it. I won¡¯t kill you!¡±


    Elijah hesitated, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Pl-please! I¡¯m growing colder again. Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop!¡± The voice waivered and cracked in panic, and suddenly Elijah heard something get up and take off into the woods, crashing and creating a rowdy ruckus in its wake. Soon there was the sound of braying chasing after it, and Elijah realized the dogs must have gotten hold of the scent of the stranger and chased after him. A second later there was the sound of whines instantly cut off, followed by yowling of cats that also became silent.


    He struggled forward, and then felt his hand touch upon something familiar, a metal hilt of some sort. It was the flashlight! He felt relief as he stood up and brought it close to his face, before a fearful thought stole its way into his mind. What if the monster was still nearby? No, he needed to find his friends. He had run away, abandoned them even. He needed to find them, he needed to help them.


    He turned on the electric torch, and looked upon the monstrous work in the woods before him. His screams could not drown out the now decapitated bodies of his three friends, who surrounded him.

 The True Horror of Death

    Ally walked into the career counselor¡¯s office with a sigh, after the murders last week, she didn¡¯t feel like listening to a lecture from anyone, let alone a woman who she had spent at most only a few hours with during the last couple years to discuss her ¡°future.¡±


    ¡°Allison, welcome, you can shut the door and have a seat,¡± said an older woman with her hair in a tight bun, greyed with age yet still clearly brunette. ¡°How have you been?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Ally said unenthusiastically.


    ¡°Are you sure? Everyone is in mourning right now, it¡¯s fine if you need to speak to a grief counselor.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Ally said a little more forcefully, though without any anger. She wasn¡¯t mad or irritated. Oddly, she didn¡¯t feel much of anything about the deaths of the three football players. It was like floating in a void, she felt disconnected from it. From everything. It was miserable.


    ¡°Alright. Will you be coming to the memorial service tonight?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Ally replied, the whole school would be there. She didn¡¯t know the three players well, but the survivor, Elijah, she had shared a couple classes with. He hadn¡¯t returned to school since the attack, and the rumor was his parents were moving far away. Whether it was to try and move on from the terrible attack, or to gain some distance from the killer who was still at large, was unsure. Probably both, and so much more.


    There was a moment of awkward silence, before the counselor cleared her voice and said, ¡°Well, I guess we need to do our best to carry on as normal. This meeting was to discuss your future options. Right now, I have your grades pulled up, and I can see that your first two years you maintained a 3.21 grade point average, with you having good grades especially in social studies.¡±


    ¡°This year though you¡¯ve been struggling, and it looks like you got a bad grade on your first major project, is that correct?¡±


    Ally didn¡¯t bother looking at the woman across from her, instead fixating her eyes on her name plate, which in flowery print declared her name as Mrs. Harris. ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied to the lady¡¯s inquiry.¡±


    ¡°I see. I¡¯ve also heard from your teachers that you haven¡¯t been turning in assignments for the past two weeks, is that true?¡± Ally shrugged. ¡°Ally, I¡¯m trying to help you, please talk to me.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been turning in my assignments.¡±


    ¡°I see. May I ask why?¡±


    Ally shrugged again. How did she explain that she had tried her best on the history project, and yet despite that had gotten the D-. That her classes had become harder and harder, and her grades have been slipping all semester, despite her effort. That every low grade she brought home left her dreading the look of disappointment in her mother¡¯s eyes. She knew they wouldn¡¯t understand. Why bother when your best wasn¡¯t good enough? Why try when you know you¡¯ll fail. It was all such a waste of effort. And then there was that vivid dream, which gnawed at her head, seemingly more real than reality had ever felt, yet so surreal that it was insane to spend as much time as she had thinking about it.


    ¡°Ally!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Ally slouched in her seat and stared at her tennis shoes and her black leggings. She had on an oversized green hoodie that made her look smaller than she already felt.


    Mrs. Harris sighed, ¡°Listen, these midsemester meetings are supposed to help you determine what you want to do for the future. Do you want to get into a university?¡±


    Ally shrugged again. Mrs. Harris pushed, ¡°What about a technical school, or military. Have you looked at any of those options?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Well, where do you see yourself in two years?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°Ally, please.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, okay. I haven¡¯t really thought about it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what these meetings are for. Try to put in some effort, or I can¡¯t help you.¡± Mrs. Harris didn¡¯t understand. She didn¡¯t know how meaningless effort was when it couldn¡¯t change the outcome. Ally¡¯s father had been murdered, and now her classmates were next. The three boys had such bright futures, according to everyone, and yet before death it meant nothing. No one knew what the next day could bring, how finite it all was. Ally had the misfortune of having seen glimpses of that truth, one time too many.


    Instead of saying that, Ally shrugged again.


    Mrs. Harris sighed and drummed her fingers once before pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Ally. ¡°Fine. Here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do. I want you to write down three strengths you have, and three interests you have. It can be anything, hobbies, things you would like to try, whatever. Bring that back next week, and you and I can brainstorm some ideas next week, at the same time. Can you do that for me, Allison?¡±


    Ally wanted to shrug but knew it wouldn¡¯t bring an end to the conversation. ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll see you next week Allison.¡±


    The day flew by like a blur, and soon Ally arrived home and fell into her bed with an exhausted groan. A second later, Lily jumped on the bed and ran over to Ally¡¯s face and started licking her on the mouth. She laughed, ¡°Okay, okay, I get it, let¡¯s go outside.¡±


    She walked out the door, and as usual Lily immediately did her business before triumphantly returning to the porch, and Ally held the door open as the dog ran in. Ally bent down and patted the dog, who ran to the living room ready to watch the news wither her girl. ¡°Not today, Lily. I¡¯ve got to get ready.¡±


    She walked to her bedroom and the pup followed her quizzically as she opened her closet and ran through looking for something black. It couldn¡¯t be cute, or revealing, this was a morbid affair. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t have any appropriate clothing, and she knew her mom didn¡¯t have the money to afford new clothing. Still, she was going to at least show her respect.


    She settled on a black blouse with some matching slacks that her mom had gotten her for when she would put in for her first interview. Mary had told her she would be allowed to get a job over the next summer, but during the school year wanted her to focus solely on getting good grades. She had some black heels to match and went to the bathroom to fix up her hair and makeup. She normally did her makeup so she could feel confident and beautiful, but tonight wasn¡¯t for her. She would make herself look beautiful and stoic. Black mascara, pale foundation and blush, dark red lipstick, and eyeshadow gave her a somber appearance, and while it took a solid hour, she was confident she would be the perfect image of mourning. More importantly, she wouldn¡¯t stand out. Tonight, was for Tyler, Josh, and James.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Mary got home sometime while Ally was preparing and headed to her own bathroom to prep as well. Once they were both ready, they met in the entranceway. They both wore black, with Mary clad in a funeral dress, ¡°Are you ready, Ally?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    They went out to their old Volkswagen and headed out. Ten minutes they arrived at the high school, where a procession of ebony-clad people was silently headed towards the football field. Mary parked the vehicle, and the two joined them as they headed to the field, where a memorial had been erected in memory of the boys. Pictures of them were adorned with flowers and wreaths, some with their friends, recent and old, smiling, and full of life. If one were to focus on the pictures though, there was the twinge of realization that there could never be another photo taken of them. Their smiles had been forever stolen away by a force cruel as fate.


    Over the next thirty minutes more and more people gathered, and there were many tears in the eyes of the youth gathered, many of whom were suddenly face to face with the mortality of the human condition that they had become accustomed to being ignorant of. But for Ally, this was too familiar a scene. One she had seen six years ago, but with much fewer people. When her father, grandfather, and uncle died, only close family had cared.


    Some cried from grief, some foolish girls cried for sympathy, lacking the self-awareness to realize that tonight was for those most affected. It wouldn¡¯t change anything though. Tonight, they would mourn. Tomorrow they would continue living as if nothing happened.


    The masked beast sat upon the scoreboard, its long fur defying gravity gracefully as it looked blindly at the masses while a small gathering of hidden cats stared at the gathered humans, eyes glowing blue. Its long tail swished over the scoreboard, and its equally long neck allowed it to crane high and feel the breeze in the air. Despite its prominent positioning, not a soul seemed to notice it, as it always was and had been.


    ¡°The children mourn, and I shed tears with them as three souls are consumed by the corrupted blessing,¡± the creature mused. Its voice cracked as a sob shook it, and it dipped its mask in mourning as its snow-white fur became as dark as the night. It sat and listened as the parents gave thanks to those who arrived, as the priest led them in prayer, and the principle gave a speech on the value of life.


    It was sorrowful, and yet the beast knew it was something of beauty. Death gave life meaning, no matter how unjust. Still, things could not continue as they had been, and it struggled to recall how the blessing had come to be granted and corrupted. There had been a purpose, she did not make mistakes, but things were cloudy. She was not omnipotent. She was not omniscient. She was no goddess, even when there were those who had attempted to worship her.


    The cats¡¯ eyes glinted as the first candle was lit, having been passed around during the speech. The priest had lit his and used his to light the next. The cool autumn night had claimed the evening, and as the light passed, candle to candle, the cats stared intensely at the blossoming light. Soon the football field was brilliantly asunder with the soft warm glow of candles, and the beast tossed its head back to howl a song.


    It sang of life cut short, of the happiness their souls had felt, of the joy their parents had felt when beholding them as babes on the first day of their lives. It sang of their lost futures, of their robbed potential. It sang of the beauty of their life. It sang of how thanks to their deaths, everyone there would be forever affected by their journey¡¯s end.


    A single pair of eyes failed to stare at the memorial or at the ground, as most of the other onlookers did. It stared instead at an incredible view, one that only she was witness to. Ally stared at the masked beast as its siren song rang out. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard, and it pierced her down to the bone, like ice. Yet it didn¡¯t hurt, instead making her feel safe and comforted. It was a voice of empathy, of sorrow, and understanding. Ally didn¡¯t even have the capacity to think of anything else, unable to realize the impossibility of image before her. She couldn¡¯t ponder anything, and instead a wave of grief she hadn¡¯t felt since her father shook her, brought upon by the lonesome notes.


    Tears poured from her unblinking eyes as she found herself fathoming the tragedy and loss of her classmates. She felt their parents¡¯ sorrow, the sadness and pain of friends and girlfriends, the harrowing hollowness that death left behind.


    Josh Gibson had been a part of the choir, an angelic voice his mother had treasured that she would never hear again. He had left behind a little sister, who had always felt safe thanks to him. Now who would keep her safe? His father had been proud and would brag at work to his friends of his son¡¯s successes both in and out of the classroom, no matter how small. Now he would never feel the swell of pride again, as all that swelled now were sobs.


    Tyler Scott had left behind a girlfriend, his childhood friend of ten years that he had grown up with. They had fallen in love, truly and deeply. Now she would never feel his touch again, the taste of his lips, the tender wraps of his arms. His parents had divorced, but now held onto each other in shared grief, as they faced the coldness of despair together.


    James Davidson¡¯s abusive father, an alcoholic loser, had not had a drop since the passing of his son. How could he? He knew how undeserving he was, how worthless he had been to his son. He had never told James he loved him, something he had refused to accept after the death of his wife at childbirth. A short lifetime of regrets is all he had to remember his son, and now he could never make amends. Now he could never be the man his son had deserved. James¡¯s girlfriend had been a cheerleader and had listened to him reveal his soul as he opened up to her about his hardship. She had grown up in an idealistic home and had done what she could to help him. Her father had embraced James when he cried and told him he would always be welcome in their home, proving to be a better father figure than James¡¯s dad had ever been. Now both men stood side by side, candles in hand crying.


    How Ally knew this, she didn¡¯t know. No, it wasn¡¯t that she knew this, it was that the masked majesty did, and its song told the story of the end of their life. Of how it affected every soul there. Ally felt a wave of nausea and lightheadedness pass through her, and she didn¡¯t even notice as she collapsed on the ground as her mind faded into darkness.


    She found herself on the field, now covered in a thing layer of hoarfrost. She picked herself up and looked around at the abandoned field, which was deserted except for the memorial, which had blue fire flickering softly on each of its candles.


    There was a meow, and she looked down to see a Calico cat before her with those familiar azure eyes. A voice rumbled behind her, a powerful voice, even if it sounded like a little girl, ¡°Good evening, child. We meet again.¡±


    Ally turned around slowly to behold the great beast, which sat calmly behind her, its neck craning so that the head could stare into the moonlit night. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I believe you saw me again.¡±


    Ally hesitated, and then said, ¡°You were real though, it wasn¡¯t a dream!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a dream last time, and it isn¡¯t now, child.¡±


    Ally looked around, and then asked, ¡°Where am I?¡±


    ¡°My avatars realized you were being overwhelmed by my song, so I brought you to my realm to protect your mind.¡±


    ¡°Your avatars?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Suddenly hundreds of cats stepped out of the darkness and into the flickering candlelight, each with those gorgeous eyes staring intensely at Ally.


    ¡°These cats?¡±


    ¡°Not quite, child. All cats. All dogs. All serve as my avatars, all serve me, or rather, are me. And I serve them, or rather are them.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Ally said as the Calico cat rubbed against her leg.


    ¡°There is nothing to understand. It is how it is.¡±


    Ally looked down and pet the cat, and then mused out loud, ¡°Just like death.¡±


    ¡°And just like life. Tell me child, do you feel better now?¡±


    ¡°I do. Why can I see you when no one else can?¡±


    Ally suddenly opened her eyes as she found herself with the athletic trainer from the school looking over her. She sat up, having been placed on the ground and the man told her, ¡°Don¡¯t move, we have an ambulance on its way now.¡±


    She stared around at the crowd of people staring at her, mumbling, and whispering to each other as their eyes bore into hers. In the distance, she thought she saw a cat, electrifying eyes wide, before it turned away into the darkness.

 Randy J

    In two hours, the afternoon news would be starting, and Ally would be tuning in as she always did. When she flipped on the television, she would be tuning to view the man who was now having the final touches of makeup done on him by the news station as he prepared for his interview. He stared at himself calmly in the mirror, he was an attractive man, albeit his hair had turned white giving him an older appearance than reality, a forty-four-year-old man. That signature look had developed when he was twenty, and his fitness regiment he started every morning at four had otherwise maintained a fit and attractive middle-aged man, Hollywood-like with his strong jaw, and jovial looking eyes.


    He had a goatee, which matched his zero-cut-fade and short hair in color, and he smiled charmingly with gleaming teeth as his grey eyes lit up the room like the sun. He wore a white shirt with a slim blue tie, too slim to be business formal, and yet had been his signature look as he rose to fame over the years.


    Randolph J. Sorensen was a billionaire and was far from the eccentric stereotype instead being a frugal and down to Earth man as he had taken over his company and brought it from the edge of bankruptcy into the fourth richest company on the planet. At least that¡¯s how the PR department had painted him, and he had happily slid into his character with ease. In actuality he was quite bizarre in his beliefs in convictions, but he knew how to mask his truths so that it was sanitized for consumption by the masses.


    ¡°You¡¯re ready Mr. Sorensen, you¡¯re on in seven,¡± the woman with clipboard informed him before carrying on to managing whatever she oversaw in this drab local news station. It mattered little to Sorensen, who despised being called mister. No, that had been his father¡¯s name, and Randolph had no lost love between him and his father. His father hadn¡¯t been particularly poor, as far as fathers went. No, Randolph just didn¡¯t care for his quiet, hermit-like ways. Indeed, it wasn¡¯t until the events that flung Randolph into the real world that he learned the truth of the world. Death was not the end. Life was not the beginning. This revelation, so simple, so powerful, had completely changed the way he viewed the world, had empowered him, and through it he had conquered the world in a way few had done in history. He wasn¡¯t the third richest man on the planet for no reason, and in a decade, he was projected to become number one.


    Randolph J. Sorensen walked onto the stage, with its lights baring down brightly in front of him and sat in his prepared seat. The lights were too close, he noticed, a common amateur mistake by smaller news outlets. He would have to be conscious of his blinking so that it didn¡¯t come across as too intense, even if there were lights right in his face.


    The interviewer came out and smiled, and explained, ¡°Alright, I know you¡¯re a busy man and want to get this done in one take. I¡¯m ready if you are.¡±


    ¡°By all means,¡± Randolph nodded with an empathetic smile and crossed his hands comfortably on his lap.


    A few moments later, and the cameras were rolling as she asked her first question, ¡°Randy J,¡± that was the epithet that media had taken to calling him, and his PR department recommended he embrace it. He personally could care less, but if that¡¯s what made him relatable, he would listen. ¡°Thank you for coming out for today¡¯s interview. How was your move down to Indiana?¡±


    ¡°Pleasant. I was terrified of every second I was on the plane, but luckily, I didn¡¯t need to use my personally packed parachute.¡±


    She laughed politely at his joke, ¡°Oh, to think that a man as well traveled as you had such a common fear.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve said in other interviews, and I¡¯ll say it here. I am but a common man who¡¯s trying his best.¡±


    ¡°You have, you have. Tell me, why did you move your company, Lamb, which has maintained its headquarters out of Anchorage, Alaska, and down her to Indianapolis?¡±


    ¡°The weather mostly,¡± he and the interviewer shared a laugh before he explained, ¡°No, it was just practicality. Lamb Incorporated has specialized in e-commerce and logistics since shortly after I took over the company, and while it was founded in Anchorage as a textile company, it has since expanded into so much more. Indiana, known for its logistical infrastructure and is referred to as the Crossroads of America, was a logical location for our headquarters allowing us to work closer to the ground as they say where most of our business is anyways.¡±


    The reporter nodded her head, and then continued to the next question to territory she was better prepared for, ¡°There are some saying that the move could bring more business and jobs to Indiana. Are there any plans to expand on the marketplace here locally?¡±


    ¡°There are. With the pandemic and the cracks in the supply chain left behind, Lamb has proven to be the leader in repairing the economy and restoring jobs both locally and nationally. Next year alone we are opening three distribution centers, a new office in downtown Indiana to expand our web services and are bringing over five thousand new jobs to Indiana alone. On top of this we¡¯ve already secured contracts with IU schools throughout the state for paid internships for undergraduate students trying to get real life experience, while not taking advantage of them.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s excellent news. So, you recently wrote a self-help book, Success from Failure, which has already become a New York Times bestseller. Could you tell me a bit about it?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I wrote the book to share my life experiences coming from a poor family in Alaska and going on to become one of the most successful men in the world. Much of that comes from my early life experiences, and really bringing the right mindset, the right attitude, that is required for success, for anyone to succeed.¡±


    ¡°So, you believe the principles in this book could allow anyone to be like you?¡±


    ¡°I know it,¡± Randolph lied a little, as he continued to answer more questions by the interviewer. He wasn¡¯t a fool, life was not that simple, and not that idealistic. His book peddled good self-help advice that could be found anywhere. Hell, half of it was rehashed from How to Win Friends and Influence People, a staple in the self-help genre, and twisted as if that was the reason for his success in business.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    It wasn¡¯t that the advice was bad, it simply was more nuanced than that. Not everyone can be rich. Not everyone can be poor. In a world of herbivores, a single predator throws the ecosystem into disarray until the population reached an equilibrium, and so it was with the rich and the poor. There would always be people who needed to do manual labor, doctors, police, so on and so forth. His book could never make those people rich; they weren¡¯t willing to do the one thing that so many self-help books leave out if you truly want to prophet as much as he did. You needed to be the predator. This wasn¡¯t a better or worse strategy of being kind, caring, or any other number of feel-good beliefs. It just meant you chose to side on one side of the equilibrium. You can¡¯t have the rich without the poor, society could not function without the working middle class. No, all his book really did was allow someone to shift their attitude to align with his own, and in that way, allowed his own success.


    His business was grown by taking advantage of the poor. He offered a higher wage than his competitors, but he spent less money on his employees by cutting benefits. Layers of business strategies built on this principle, of convincing of the worst to work against their interest, was the core root of his success.


    In turn he performed philanthropy as part of egoistic altruism. By investing in the world, he could improve the overall education and well-being of the average person, who in turn could become another employee to exploit, or another paying customer to separate from their dollar. The rift would grow, yet humanity would be better off. This was the core reason for his success, and while his detractors struggled to dethrone him despite his supposed corrupt acts. He recognized the core truth that he lived in a positive sum world, as opposed to a zero sum. He simply played the game better. Even his book was part of it, he knew full well there were enough self-help books out there that his served no actual purpose. But that wasn¡¯t entirely true. Its purpose was to funnel the economy of self-help books into the purse of his own coffers. Better yet, simply by hiring another writer to transcribe in his name had allowed him to make millions already from book sales.


    ¡°Thank you, Randy J., I appreciated your time here.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for having me.¡± Randy ended the interview with a handshake and shortly thereafter walked out with his bodyguard into his armored limousine to take him to his office in their new headquarters, a freshly built office building designed to blend in with the previously existing architecture of Indianapolis and now corrupt their skyline, which wasn¡¯t much for such a small city. The building showed on the entrance side the logo of a white lamb led by a child, the logo used since the founding of Lamb.


    They pulled into the garage, and he stepped into the elevator and pulled out his key that allowed him to select the top floors of the building and hit floor twenty-seven. This had been eating at him since his arrival at the news station, and he had hated having to step away from his project to deal with something so mundane. Still, optics and publicity were important, and it was important to establish a positive presence in his new home city so that he could influence public opinion and ultimately government policy.


    The elevator opened and he stepped into the control center in charge of his passion project. For years he had been searching for this moment, and finally he was coming close to his lifetime hunt. The readings for the town of Hazelwood were off the charts, and it was the true reason for his relocation of Lamb Inc.¡¯s headquarters.


    The room was darkly lit, with blue lights designed to not interfere with the monitors being carefully watched by a crew of twenty trained men and women in lab coats. He walked up to the director and asked for an update, it had been three hours since he had last checked in, and he knew by text that there had been movement. ¡°What happened?¡±


    POI one through four were marked, as you predicted this morning. We sent out teams and managed to gather the four and leave them together in an abandoned barn before leaving them alone and monitoring from a distance with drones.


    ¡°Did it appear?¡±


    ¡°He did. Subject Omega emerged from the cornfield after we left from a range of one thousand feet from our test samples. Beforehand as ordered we left behind one cat and one dog in the barnyard.¡±


    ¡°Results,¡± Randolph asked breathlessly. This was the moment, the breakthrough he needed. Years of wasted income, a team of scientists that thought him crazy, and a PR department desperate to cover up his superstitious nonsense had brought him to this moment.


    The scientist hesitated and looked at him, struggling to hold back the horror of the past two hours she had witnessed. ¡°Two dead. He is pursuing the last two as we speak. Sir, if we intervene now, we might be able to save them.¡±


    ¡°Keep monitoring. If you intervene now, you¡¯ll just add to the body count.¡±


    She turned back to her monitor, which was an overhead shot from a drone with two red dots representing the location of the two test samples. Subject Omega was moving slowly after them, and they were currently running through the cornfield. She prayed they escaped, and it appeared they would, when something emerged from the woods bordering the cornfield and began tearing through the corn. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± she asked, and one of the other scientists turned and said in shock, ¡°There was a hog farm that just had one of their walls collapse¡­ The¡­ The pigs broke out and just entered the field.¡± Sure enough, as the pigs closed in on the red dots they turned and began running back towards their pursuer, now trying to escape a new threat.


    Randolph stroked his goatee, ¡°Interesting, he can control not just the pigs he manifests, but real swine as well. That¡¯s way more power than has previously shown. I wonder if the blessing is growing stronger?¡±


    The lead scientist turned towards him and froze as she saw his look of utter fascination, a smile growing on his face. Blessing? This was a curse, and a terrible one at that. And they had just manually triggered one. For the first time she was forced to believe in this man¡¯s delusions. She had accepted the job purely based on how well it paid, never mind that it was research into literal pseudoscience. But now before was evidence of something much more terrifying than that.


    Randolph grinned as he said, ¡°Oh, looks like he caught one.¡± Sure enough, a red dog met with where Subject Omega was and turned blue, indicating a loss of heart rate. The pigs that had gathered around his body dissipated, as Subject Omega became still. Finally, it turned from the direction and took off at high speed into the forest before it disappeared from the map.


    ¡°Sir, he¡¯s not pursuing the final test sample.¡±


    ¡°That lines up with reports. Seems he always lets one get away.¡±


    ¡°Why would he do that?¡±


    ¡°Simple, he¡¯s a failure.¡±


    There was a moment of awkward, stunned silence as the scientists came to grips with what they had achieved with their experiment. Two men and one woman were dead. And they were complicit in it, no they were responsible. Even if they had thought Randolph J. Sorensen was mad, it was their own actions that had resulted in the death of three people.


    ¡°Collect the survivor and offer her a job to help with further experiments. If she refuses, terminate her,¡± Randolph didn¡¯t need to explain what he meant by that. ¡°Collect and dispose of the remains of the other three bodies. Make it out like they died in a barn fire in a neighboring town. We don¡¯t need the media catching on to this being another headless hog farmer kill. There is much, much more work to be done before this nightmare can be over.¡±


    The scientists shared a look as they realized what this meant. The serial killer wasn¡¯t just a simple murderer. He was something supernatural, a force beyond comprehension, and it would be up to them to study, and eventually, stop him. That realization was all the motivation they needed to fall into the dark abyss of their work as they prepared for their next objective.

 Blessing of the Second Chance

    Freezing rain fell from the sky, pitter and pattering across the ground before coalescing and freezing to form beautiful ice crystals upon the ground, clinging to the glass blades to create a field of dull knives and would soon sparkle when the clouds broke for the sun to shine on it. The road conditions were highly dangerous as black ice reigned supreme. In a couple hours Ally would get off school and take the bus home, and she watched the window as heavy drops plopped on the glass and splattered down the panes of the windows of her classroom.


    Someone walked by and knocked her things from her desk to the ground, her binder spilling out paper and pencil rolling away as the person falsely apologized with a sarcastic, ¡°Oops.¡± Ally stared down at it numbly and picked it up, while her friend, Karen, who was sitting across from her stood up and confronted them.


    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s the big idea?¡±


    ¡°I said oops,¡± the bully said with a mocking smile.


    ¡°It was on purpose. I saw you reach out and knock it to the ground as you passed.¡±


    ¡°Why do you care? She¡¯s the girl who faked fainting at someone¡¯s memorial for attention.¡±


    Ally ignored the conflict; bullying had been on the rise since what had happened. The rumor had been spread she had faked the fainting spell, and while most of her fellow students took at face value that if the ambulance had arrived for her there was likely and actual emergency, many others had seen it as free real estate for them to attack her. Perhaps they believed the rumors, perhaps they just needed someone to vent the terrible stress of coming of age on another person. Ally didn¡¯t really care either way. She was more focused on the strange singing masked beast that had been borrowing her headspace nonstop since that night, her mind unable to let go of what she had experienced when she heard its voice.


    She thanked Karen, who smiled and went back to working on her assignment in another class while she opened her notebook and continued a drawing she had been working on since the incident, a sketch of the mask. She filled out the sinking markings that helped define where there should have been eyes. The more she thought about it, the more she couldn¡¯t tell if the dark sunken hollows were holes, and the beast merely didn¡¯t have eyes to see through them, or if it was completely solid, covering the eyes of the beast. She wasn¡¯t even sure if it was a mask, maybe it was some sort of bony covering for its face, part of its feature like the horn of a rhinoceros.


    Karen set her pencil down and stretched, ¡°Finished! What are you working on Ally?¡±


    ¡°Just a drawing.¡±


    ¡°Can I see?¡±


    Ally didn¡¯t see why not. She turned her notebook towards her friend who stared at it intensely as a look of confusion passed over her face. ¡°It¡­ kind of looks like the carvings my neighbor makes. What is it?¡±


    Ally tilted her head to the side and asked, ¡°You¡¯ve seen it before?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we had a creepy neighbor move several years back. She¡¯s retired, I guess, and spends most of her time with her cat on her front porch whittling masks that look just like this one. She¡¯s nice and friendly, but there always seems to be something¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ dark? Sad? Just something is wrong with her. I take it they must be from something if you¡¯re drawing it.¡±


    Ally looked down at the drawing and said, ¡°Uh, yeah. I saw it a few weeks ago, though I¡¯m not sure what it is exactly.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lie, but it definitely omitted much of the truth. ¡°What¡¯s the name of your neighbor, maybe she knows more about it?¡±


    Karen shrugged, ¡°Rebecca Whitlock. She moved down here from Alaska if I recall. You going to ask her about it, I take it?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking about it.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, I¡¯ve asked her before, and all she does is frown and shake her head. Says it¡¯s something not for children. Even said that to my dad, which irritated him.¡±


    When Ally got on the bus that day, she made a point to bring her notebook with the sketch with her. She had the feeling that showing it to Rebecca would help convince her to tell her more. At the same time, she looked up ¡®Rebecca Whitlock Alaska¡¯ on her phone as the bus rumbled down the country roads to drop off the students.


    Almost every link was for a scientist by the same name, a woman who worked for something called IARC. Ally googled that, and soon found the International Antarctic Research Center. Dr. Rebecca Whitlock had joined in 2000, but her research had been ongoing since the late nineties. Apparently, she had been a big voice for helping corporations go green and conducting research in global warming and its effects on the Arctic. Her research had supposedly been sited and been used in the early for some environmental agreement known as the Montreal Protocol, earning her a Nobel Prize. It was all quite above her head, but the wiki article stated that thanks to her, unimaginable damage to the world was able to be avoided.


    There was then a list of her accolades and awards, which were a lot, and nothing of her personal life. Ally moved through some more links, as it was unlikely the same woman, and came across an old news article of a woman by the same name in Alaska being found after a bad winter having disappeared in the wild showing up alive and well, which had occurred in the early nineties. It had been scanned and uploaded as part of some historic preservation project by the state. The article went on to explain that seven similar incidents had occurred that winter of individuals who had disappeared and were believed to have died from frostbite. Her reappearance coincided with another individual being found in the wild who was claiming some spirit or ghost was responsible for the disappearances, and that he had seen it. It sounded like the type of slow news that local stations focused on. After those there was nothing but an amalgamation of other women by that name, all different, yet all the same in how uninteresting they were. Shame, it would have been nice to find something on the woman she planned on talking to.


    Ally got home, did her normal ritual of flopping on her bed and then taking the dog out and putting on the news. Yesterday there was an interview with Randy J., which was about the most interesting thing that had happened all week, and today looked boring in terms of the news as well.


    Mary got home, and as Ally heard the door, she turned the TV off and asked from across the house, ¡°Hey mom, can I borrow the car this evening?¡±


    ¡°What for?¡± Mary asked.


    ¡°I wanted to go by Karen¡¯s house and ask her neighbor some questions about some things.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Mary¡¯s skepticism was not unwarranted, it was an odd thing for a teenager to do.


    Luckily, Ally had a prepared excuse. ¡°She apparently won a Nobel Prize when she was younger. She¡¯s retired now, I just wanted to learn a bit more about her.¡±


    Mary seemed hesitant, ¡°Doesn¡¯t Karen live in Hazelwood?¡±


    Ally had hoped she wouldn¡¯t remember that. Most everyone was on edge after the murder of three high schoolers, and apparently a lot of people were trying to move out of Hazelwood right now while the police scrambled to find out what was going on, luckily Ally was prepared for this as well.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Karen¡¯s road has a cop stationed on its corner. All of Hazelwood has had state troopers keeping a close eye on it since what happened, I¡¯ll be fine. I have my phone, there will be police close by, and I¡¯ll be careful to not gather in a group of four.¡±


    ¡°Just because he targets groups of four doesn¡¯t mean the killer won¡¯t change his pattern.¡± She sighed, ¡°Fine, but I want you to call and check in every hour and if you don¡¯t, I¡¯m calling the police. Also, I have your GPS on your phone turned on and will be monitoring it. Don¡¯t go anywhere besides Karen¡¯s neighbor¡¯s house, if you do, I¡¯m calling the police. And take Lily.¡±


    ¡°Not sure what the dog is supposed to do? She¡¯s pint-sized.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll make me feel better. Honey, stay safe, and I love you.¡±


    Ally hugged her mom while grabbing the keys from her, ¡°Love you too, mom.¡±


    The country roads of Indiana allowed for one to drive fifty-five in most places, though most everyone sped by five or ten miles per hour. Ally didn¡¯t risk it today though. The police were out in force, and she didn¡¯t feel like getting a ticket. She slowed down as the speed limit wound down as she approached the four-way stop that marked downtown Hazelwood, which like most small towns in the country wasn¡¯t much more than that. There was a church on one corner, and a fire department on the opposite corner where annually there was held a fish fry and tractor pull, a common tradition in the Midwest where locals would modify their vehicles and figure out who had the strongest machine and talented drivers. It had categories for tractors, trucks, semis, and so on.


    Ally had many fond memories of her childhood arriving and enjoying the fish and fries, while watching the variety of activities set up. The military recruiters would bring a rock-climbing wall, there was always an interactive firefighting class for kids, and more. Mary hadn¡¯t taken her since they had moved away from Hazelwood, though she had been allowed to go back a couple of years ago with a friend.


    She passed by the fire department and continued until she turned down a road bordered by corn on one side, and soy on the other, waving at the officer parked on the corner who waved back. She continued down until the fields ended, and there was wood on one side of the road and some houses on the other. Karen¡¯s was the first on the right, so that must mean that the next was Rebecca Whitlock¡¯s. She pulled onto the gravel driveway and looked at the cozy two story house, with white sheet sliding to give it the appearance of wood, though it clearly was not. On the front porch was an old woman with a knife, carving something in her lap. Hanging up around the front porch were masks, identical to the one that Ally had been unable to stop thinking about since the first night she had that dream.


    Ally took stock of the old woman, who was wearing a sweater and a long skirt, and a blanket over her legs that caught the shavings. To her surprise, while she was more wrinkled, and hair had turned silvery in her age, it was the same Rebecca Whitlock who had won the Nobel Prize. Her countenance was frail and bony, but despite this had sharp, bright, piercing brown eyes that sized up Ally as she approached.


    Ally stepped onto the porch with her backpack slung over her shoulder and began to speak, but Rebecca held up one finger and tilted her head and breathed in deeply with her nose. ¡°Peculiar, you have the scent, but I don¡¯t feel the presence.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. What do you want, girl?¡±


    Ally was slightly flustered by her curt tone, but she had driven out there for answers, and that was what she was going to get, even if she had to appeal to this woman¡¯s ego or whatever else. ¡°You¡¯re the same Rebecca Whitlock who worked for the IARC, correct?¡±


    The woman smiled mischievously, ¡°Someone did their homework. That is correct, you here for a school project interview or something?¡±


    Ally shifted her backpack to her other shoulder, ¡°Um, no. I wanted to ask you about the masks.¡±


    ¡°Not something to discuss with children, I assure you.¡±


    ¡°But I think it¡¯s really important.¡±


    ¡°You think? Still, someone like you doesn¡¯t need to worry her pretty, little head about it.¡±


    ¡°Please! It looks just like the one I saw.¡±


    The woman set the mask down and eyed Ally with interest. She contemplated something, and then asked, ¡°And where pray, girl, did you see this mask before?¡±


    ¡°In my dreams.¡±


    She scoffed, ¡°So you happened to see something that looked similar to mine, what¡¯s the big deal.¡±


    ¡°No, its identical. My friend saw my sketch and pointed out it was like mine.¡± Ally pulled off her backpack and pulled out the notebook and handed it to Rebecca.


    Rebecca looked at it and squinted, before reaching into a pocket on her breast and pulling out a pair of glasses and putting them on. She stared down and glared at the drawing before handing it back. ¡°You had a dream?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Did you see only the mask or was there more.¡±


    ¡°It was attached to a great beast, whose fur waved in the air like hair suspended in water.¡±


    The woman set the mask aside on a patio table next to her and tossed her blanket to the ground where the wood chips clattered on the ground. ¡°Come with me, girl.¡±


    She stepped inside, and Ally followed. They were greeted by a striped cat that went to rub against Rebecca¡¯s leg, but at the sight of Ally bolted off deeper into the house. Rebecca led the way into a room that was full of more sculptures, but instead of masks they showed the creature in its entirety, though none captured its true beauty.


    ¡°So, you have seen it before.¡± Ally said.


    ¡°Quiet, girl, I ask the questions in my home.¡± Rebecca turned to address her and stared needles like icicles hovering over Ally¡¯s head that could impale her at any second. Ally was surprised how commanding such a small woman could be and nodded in acknowledgement. ¡°Good. Did it bless you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°What were the conditions?¡±


    ¡°Conditions?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me questions. Just answer mine. What. Were. The. Conditions?¡±


    ¡°It didn¡¯t give conditions, just told me my fortune.¡±


    ¡°Your fortune? What was it?¡± While she spoke, Rebecca opened the window to the room and peered out glancing back and forth, before nodding in approval of whatever it was that she was checking.


    ¡°Um, let¡¯s see. Something about a wolf in sheepskin, don¡¯t sign a contract or I¡¯ll meet the boar. Sorry, it¡¯s been a few weeks.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize. I must say, this is interesting.¡± Ally held back the urge to ask her what she meant, despite how annoying her cryptic words were. She already knew the answer she would get in response. Rebecca started pacing back and forth while musing aloud, ¡°So you saw a dream of this thing. It gave you your fortune, and now you find my masks. How very peculiar. Can you tell me anything else about the dream?¡±


    Ally relayed to her what had happened, how she had woken up and been brought to the starving boar, how the masked beast spoke of its gaze and of a trespasser, and then Ally told her she had seen it again at the memorial service and heard its song. She spoke of its mentions of avatars and realms. Once Ally was done, the woman sat down in a chair in the room and seemed to be in deep thought.


    ¡°The boar, yes, I think I know whose avatar that is. Poor thing, if only he would accept his blessing. As for the trespasser, I wonder who that is.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not the same,¡± Ally asked.


    Rebecca shook her head, ¡°No. Trespasser refers to someone not of its realm. More peculiar is that it didn¡¯t attach any conditions to you when it blessed you¡­ What have I done!¡± Rebecca shot out of her chair and looked around in alarm, and there was a loud creak throughout the house as the cat started yowling from somewhere in the building.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening!?¡± Ally asked in alarm.


    ¡°I broke the conditions on my blessing! I was to tell no one of the creature or how it works, and now I face the consequences.¡±


    ¡°Please, tell me what¡¯s going on? What is the beast?¡±


    ¡°Quiet, no time.¡± The cat yowl had suddenly gone quiet, ¡°If it comes through the window escape through the front door, if it enters the front door escape from the window. He is compelled to come for me, not you. Don¡¯t try to help, you¡¯ll just get us both killed. I received the blessing of the second chance, and the Headless Hog Farmer of Hazelwood received it as well. His name is Philip Conway, if you want to help you need to find out more about Philip Conway.¡± A single hand grabbed onto the open windowsill, clad in a cowhide glove with barbed wire tangled around it dripping with blood. ¡°Run! Run now!¡±


    Ally ran out the room and through the hallway, blazing as fast as she could to the front door, before tripping, catching herself with her hands and scraping skin from her open palms as she skidded on the floor. She turned and saw what she had tripped on was a small striped pig, which squealed as it ran into the room she had come from in a panic. Ally scrambled to her feet and flew through the front door, biting cold wind smarting across her skin as she arrived at the Volkswagen with Lily in the passenger seat barking and howling in a panic, her eyes glowing blue. Ally opened the driver¡¯s side door, turned the key, backed out of the driveway, and sped as quickly as she could home.


    Lily growled and snarled in the direction of the house as Ally made distance, her eyes slowly turning back to brown as the gap increased, the little dog trying its best to resist the blessing for the sake of Ally.

 The Death of Philip Conway

    The air was abuzz with the high-pitched drips of rain upon the surface, be it the grass freshly freed from the frost, the mud, or the two-story brown house with black shingles. The air smelt clean, refreshed, and purified by the downpour. In a few hours, as the rain let up and a breeze rolled through pollen would sing softly and sweetly through the air. The sky was a dark grey, as the sun had already begun to set, and soon the night would claim the sleepy town of Hazelwood.


    Philip stepped off the porch and petted his shaggy black dog, Chester, who whined as he started to walk by. ¡°What¡¯s wrong boy, you hurt?¡± He stopped and scratched the dog¡¯s ears, just a little bit ago the dog had been happy and barking, and yet now its tail was tucked and seemed deeply upset. Chester looked at his paws and saw nothing. ¡°You look fine boy. Come on, let¡¯s get you on the front porch.¡± He picked the dog up, which wagged its tail despite its concern and brought it to an old mat that served as its bed on the porch. He set Chester down, who immediately sat up and stared at him pleadingly. ¡°I got to feed the pigs, Chester, its fine.¡±


    The dog whined again as he walked away, and Philip didn¡¯t turn back to notice its eyes begin to glow intensely, like the lightning that occasionally crackled in the evening sky. He walked through the yard, not seeing the dog become calm and still, its face relaxing as it came under the influence of the great masked beast that walked calmly behind Philip as soon as he had left the house.


    The beast¡¯s paws and claws left nary a print or trace on the mud as Philip marched to the pigsty, ready to feed them. He didn¡¯t notice its snow-white fur turning darker and darker, as he marched closer to his death, and the eye sockets on the mask opened on the beast, revealing two glowing orbs, afire and electric, starkly azure, and the creature finally stared at Philip Conway proper as it finally affixed its gaze upon him.


    Philip Conway went to the silver cans that contained the feed for the animals, grains bought at a local farming supply store, and put them into a pair of buckets. The cans were on the back of the shelter for the pigs, outside the enclosure of the hog pen itself, with the roofing extended to keep the rain off the cans so that the food could stay dry.


    He picked the buckets up and walked around the pen to the gate so that he could enter and drop it off in the trough, and the pigs recognizing what was happening gathered excitedly at the gate in preparation to try and get the first few bites of dinner out of the buckets directly. They snorted and oinked, their little black eyes beady yet ecstatic.


    As Philip approached, he slipped on the mud and dropped one of the buckets, spilling it through the grates on the gate. ¡°Shoot!¡± He set the other on the flat surface, while the pigs desperately tried to eat the grain off the mud. ¡°Shoo, shoo!¡± He said as he stepped forward to try and salvage the spilled feed, not realizing that his boot had caught in the mud, suction holding it in place, and he tripped.


    Philip¡¯s head fell perfectly through the grate, and his neck slammed against the bottom rung of wood of the grate with a wet and disgusting crunch. His body became numb, and he landed face first into the mud, resulting in his head being through the grate on the pigs¡¯ side, and his body on the other.


    Philip didn¡¯t immediately process what was happening as his vision became dark in the mud and he tried to pick himself up. His arms didn¡¯t respond. Neither did his legs. He tried again, choking on the water and mud that was filling his nostrils and throat. Nothing. Philip Conway was paralyzed from the neck down.


    The hogs had scattered when his head jammed through the grate, eyeing the feed on the ground carefully, while simultaneously keeping a safe distance from the man who had just abused them earlier that evening. Their stomachs growled. Did they dare risk it?


    The first did and began chewing carefully at the feed that surrounded Philip¡¯s head, careful not to touch him. He did not respond, and soon the others joined in the feast. Philip gagged, and one of the younger, braver pigs looked at the feed that was touching his ear. It looked tasty. It took a bite, accidentally catching his ear and pulling his head clear of the mud for a second.¡±


    ¡°Augh!¡± Philip cried out in both pain and gasped at once for air, and the pig dropped his ear. He fell back into the mud and began choking again, and the pig nudged him. One of the others watching the feed his head rested in saw this, and decided it was safe, and pulled at his other ear.


    Philip had a second spit out mud from his mouth and began to shout, ¡°Hel-!¡± Too late, his face dropped into the mud again and he began drowning once again. Another pig bit him, another time he was lifted enough to try and scream through gasps, another failed attempt.


    His cries for help turned into sobs as he pleaded for anyone to hear him. But the only thing that bore witness to what occurred came from the billowing fur of the masked beast looking down at him, its fur as dark as the night now.


    ¡°Poor child.¡± Blood poured profusely from his head as the pigs poked and prodded for more food. ¡°Such potential, such waste. I see your fortune, and you have much to do.¡± Philip finally grew silent and still, and the pigs with avaricious vigor chowed into their meal. The beast turned away, and right outside the fence sat Chester, stoic and still.


    ¡°I grant upon you a blessing. Take this second chance, my avatar, and restore life to your beloved master.¡± The beast walked away calmly while the dog became free of its influence and began howling and barking, earning the attention of Jessica and Joseph Conway. The beast¡¯s eyes became dull, and then shut as it failed to see Mr. Conway come outside cursing, wondering what was taking his son so long to complete such a simple task. In a few more moments he would be howling and crying himself as he realized his last words to his son had been of anger, and not of love.


    Ally checked the address on her phone as she pulled up at the Conway house, which had a single light on through the porch window. She glanced at the deserted pig pen, now empty and devoid of life, its yard filled with leaves from autumn. She walked up the steps, opened the screen door, and knocked. A minute later answered and older gentleman who had a severe widow¡¯s peak, ¡°How may I help you?¡±


    ¡°Joseph Conway?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about Philip Conway.¡±


    The man¡¯s expression soured, ¡°Great, someone else curious about my boy! Can¡¯t you people just leave us alone!¡± He slammed the door in her face, which while it stunned her, did not particularly surprise her.


    Ally knocked again and was met by silence. Once more, she pounded on the door and called out, ¡°Please! My father was killed by the hog farmer! I¡¯m just looking for answers!¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Go away!¡± Came Mr. Conway¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Come on dear, she¡¯s not with the media.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t care.¡±


    The shouting between the couple continued for a little bit, then the door opened, and Mrs. Conway answered the door with a sympathetic smile. ¡°Sorry dear, the media has bothered us after every murder, and it¡¯s been very distressing. Come on in.¡±


    Ally followed the woman into the dining room, where she offered something to drink from a variety, and she settled on a soda. She sipped from the can politely, and Mrs. Conway explained, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t think we will be much help. The police believe there may, and I cannot emphasize the word may, be a link to the Headless Hog Farmer murders. Personally, me and my husband believe our boy¡¯s death was an unfortunate tragedy, but unrelated to those poor people.¡±


    Ally looked at the bubbling brown liquid in the can, ¡°I understand, Mrs. Conway.¡± She thought about her next words carefully, there was no point in discussing that perhaps something more supernatural was at hand, though besides the old woman and the killer¡¯s sudden appearance, she had nothing to really go on. ¡°I just thought maybe the killer was inspired by¡­ the tragedy of what happened to your son.¡±


    ¡°You think the killer bases his actions on my son?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a possibility, I just wanted to learn as much as I could, so I could maybe understand what the killer was trying to get from this.¡±


    ¡°You know how he died, then,¡± came a gruff voice behind Ally, causing her to turn and see Joseph at the doorway.


    ¡°Joseph¡­¡± Jessica warned her husband nervously as she recognized the dark look on his face.


    Ally shook her head, and he relayed the tale of how he found his son¡¯s body against the grate head missing. How he held him while he cried and pleaded, praying it was just a prank or something else. How the same day the family dog ran away from home, how one of the doctors slipped up and told them about the mud and water in his lungs. It was a slow death, a horrible painful death, and the police had lied it had been ¡®quick.¡¯


    Joseph sighed as he finished his story, ¡°¡­ Tell me, hold on, what was your name again?¡±


    ¡°Ally.¡±


    ¡°Tell me, was I a bad father?¡±


    ¡°Joseph!¡± cried out Mrs. Conway.


    ¡°Was I a bad father!? The last things I said to my son weren¡¯t even I love you! I just yelled at him! I insulted him! What sort of father insults his own son!?¡± The man started sobbing and sat at the table while holding his head in his hands.


    Mrs. Conway ushered for Ally to leave while she soothed her distraught husband, and Ally left through the front door. As she walked by the pigsty, she looked over to where the gate would¡¯ve been, now removed, and wondered what it was exactly she was supposed to gleam from all of this. Rebecca had said she needed to learn more about him if she wanted to help, but he was dead, wasn¡¯t he?


    The blessing of the second chance. What did it mean? Was it a second chance at life? And if it was, why had Philip become a serial killer, while Rebecca was a Nobel Prize winning doctor? Why had Rebecca even moved here in the first place? The masked beast, it didn¡¯t seem evil, but at the same time what motivated it? Who was the trespasser? Why did the beast seek the boar?


    He always kills three and leaves a survivor. His method of killing was the same as how he had died. What made him pick his targets, and if he was staying in Hazelwood how had no one found him in the numerous manhunts? Facts and questions only lead to more questions, with little in the way of proper answers.


    Yet Ally failed to ask the most important question of them all. Why could she see the masked beast?


    Randolph woke up in his office, clean with little in terms of personal effects besides a couple of desk plants he kept pristine. There were several candles lit, with blue fire dancing on their wick, and he adjusted his thin tie as he prepared for his guest, who momentarily came crashing through the window.


    Glass flew everywhere as a storm of billowing hair cascaded into his office and swarmed and swiveled until the mask, eyes wide open, stared at him right in the face. ¡°Not even a flinch, Randy J.¡±


    ¡°Randolph. And there¡¯s no need to be afraid, you can¡¯t hurt me directly, nor do I think you want to. I have no fear of death.¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. Arrogant child, I see through you. You trespass on my realm because you fear death.¡± The child-like voice wasn¡¯t angry with him, sounding more bemused by him than anything.


    ¡°I trespass because I know it can be surpassed, as you have allowed to happen countless times.¡±


    ¡°You misinterpret my actions, child.¡±


    Randolph shrugged, ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    The creature rolled around on his office floor, way too big to fit properly so that it could stand or sit. Its mask rotated upside down as it did so, and it asked, ¡°So what does the trespasser want today, I wonder?¡±


    ¡°Considering I have tried dozens of times to get back in this realm, I suspect you allowed me in this time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s possible.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, you forgot?¡±


    ¡°When you are as complicated a being as me, it becomes hard to recall everything, though I don¡¯t suspect a child like you to understand, hm, hm, hm.¡± She chided him good-naturedly.


    ¡°I suppose so. I come here today with a question.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. We both know my answer.¡±


    ¡°I could help you.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember your answer when I asked you to reveal what you saw when you see me in a single word?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°I do not recall the word you used, could you remind me?¡±


    ¡°Power.¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. That, child, is why I will not help you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite unfortunate. Then why did you let me enter your realm today?¡±


    ¡°I come with a blessing.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said we both knew the answer to my question.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the type of blessing that requires my power, just my wisdom. The answer to that question is still no.¡±


    Randolph nodded. If the great beast was willing to share its knowledge, that was worth as much or more than one of its proper blessings. Still, he needed to be on guard. If she was sharing information, it was likely to further her own alien agenda, even if he understood what it was that she wanted. Best he does not let himself become a pawn in this creature¡¯s machinations. At the very least, he planned on becoming a knight on this chessboard.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm, if you were listening to me, I would not be able to meet your gaze already.¡±


    ¡°Yet I¡¯m still not dead.¡±


    ¡°Yet your death is still set in stone.¡±


    ¡°Enough, what is your blessing?¡±


    Child-like laughter erupted from the beast, not like the normal restrained chuckle it used, but true laughter as it seemed caught off guard by his impatience. ¡°You amuse me child. Heed my words, or don¡¯t, it changes nothing.¡±


    ¡°He who seeks Deus Ex Machina. He who seeks subjects for the coming trial. Offer your contract to the one named Allison. If she refuses, never lay a finger upon her again. If she accepts, prepare to meet the boar with her.¡±


    ¡°Allison who?¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. You are smart enough for that. Begone, child, next time we meet, one of us will be at the mercy of the other. And neither of us are very merciful, are we?¡±


    Randolph went to answer, when suddenly with a yowl he was pulled out of the realm and landed back in his office in the real world, where there was a cat with its belly slit open and a burning coal placed inside on a surgical tray on his desk. He sighed, ¡°Couldn¡¯t have tried to live through the ritual a little longer?¡± he asked the cat rhetorically.


    He called for his assistant to fetch the cat and dispose of it before turning on his computer and going through the potential candidates for the next trial. Only one had the name Allison. Interestingly enough, her father had already been murdered by the Headless Hog Farmer of Hazelwood. He looked into the eyes of the teenage girl, and mused out loud, ¡°Now why would she want to make sure I offered a contract to you, Allison Thomas?¡±


    Perhaps this girl would be the one who brought about his death, set in stone as it already was, or so the mask claimed. Maybe it was just bored or curious about what would occur. She was ancient, and though she claimed to love humans, he took that with a grain of salt. Maybe this was her way of enlisting help dealing with her rampant second-chancer, or maybe it was something so far outside his peripheral that there was no point in even guessing what she was up to. He could just ignore her, there was likely no harm in doing so. If she wanted to harm him, she likely had ways to do so directly.


    No, he would contact this girl if nothing else, but to slake his own curiosity. And if he was lucky, it sounded like he would be meeting the boar.

 Four

    Randolph had his team of scientists assembled in his office and adjusted his tie as he prepared for their briefing. ¡°Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. As you are all aware, our next trial is aiming to take place in two weeks¡¯ time. I wanted to reiterate the importance of your work, and what our goal is, as I¡¯ve heard there have been some concerns raised by junior staff recently attached to the project as we have expanded after our last successful experiment.


    ¡°To put things simply, we aim to stop the murders from a supernatural force, as in bring them to a complete halt. Unfortunately, to do this, we must first understand the causes and requirements for Subject Omega. In that regard we are close to having narrowed in on the requirements and will be selecting three POI, or test samples, as a control group, and one with the objective of triggering him as a target of the blessing. If we¡¯re successful, our current hypothesis on what causes Subject Omega to manifest will be proven true. Second, we aim to gain actual footage of the attack, so that we can better understand the mechanics of Subject Omega. This may lend us some understanding of the cause. Thirdly, and most importantly, we believe that for a short period after the third termination of the test samples, Subject Omega is vulnerable to capture. If this is truly the case, our upcoming trial may prove the perfect opportunity to put a stop to the meaningless deaths permanently.


    ¡°As far as we know of the current situation, this is the only way to save lives, and will require the sacrifice of at least three more test samples, something I know a few of you have struggled with. If you need separated from this project due to being a conscientious objector, I have authorized you request to be a removed from the project with a one-million-dollar NDA and transfer to another division within the company, and if unable to support that, an additional one-million-dollar stipend while you are laid off to hold you over while you seek new work. I cannot emphasize, however, the importance of this upcoming trial to reduce the amount of lives loss and pray that you reconsider the consequences of not staying with us for the upcoming weeks.¡±


    Brandon Reese slouched in a chair in the administrative room of his high school while he got ready to talk to the principal regarding his third time getting caught with contraband in school, weed. He didn¡¯t particularly care that he broke school policy, it made going to the classes bearable, and it¡¯s not like it mattered if he smelled like a stoner.


    Since he was already here, he had pulled out his beanie, which also broke school code, and pulled it over his head and eyes so that he could take a nap. ¡°Take that off,¡± the administrator said from behind her desk, an old, portly woman with glasses who looked at him with irritation.


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡±


    ¡°You should be reflecting on your actions, not trying to take a nap, young man.¡±


    ¡°You should reflect on taking a diet.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°Just saying, you¡¯re all worried about me, but from my point of view you should take care of what you put in your body, before you worry about what I put in mine.¡±


    She glared at him, and then busied herself with whatever pointless work she had on the computer. Brandon rolled his eyes, but pocketed his black beanie anyways so she wouldn¡¯t bother him and crossed his arms over his matching hoodie.


    It wasn¡¯t like school mattered, just a legal obligation his parents had to follow, and they didn¡¯t even care. Hell, most of the time they were barely present, out partying getting high on something way worse than weed, yet here he was about to be lectured from some prune. Standard issue lecture too, probably just say they were ¡®disappointed¡¯ in his behavior, they¡¯d have to ¡®contact¡¯ his parents, a meaningless effort when they wouldn¡¯t even answer, and he¡¯d be ¡®suspended.¡¯ Oh no! What a terrible thing, to be given a free vacation from school! Probably complain about him ruining his ¡®future¡¯ while he was at it, stupid old prune.


    The principal¡¯s office door opened, and a gentleman in a sweater vest stepped out, sighed, and then said, ¡°Come in, Brandon.¡±


    Brandon complied, and on his desk was set up the chess board. Weird thing that this guy would do, he would set up a board and play the game while talking with him, and he always lost. There were two chairs across from the principal¡¯s desk, and there was already a woman in a conservative dress and a clipboard sitting in one. ¡°Have a seat,¡± the principal said gesturing to the free chair before walking around his desk to sit in his fancy and cushy office chair. ¡°You¡¯ll be black today,¡± the man said before putting his center pawn forward two spaces.


    Probably going to be a long conversation, Brandon decided to open with the Queen¡¯s Indian Defense, and they played the game as the principal began his talk, ¡°I really didn¡¯t want to see you in my office again, Brandon.¡±


    ¡°Hm.¡±


    ¡°Brandon, I need you to take this seriously. We¡¯re taking action to call CPS on your parents.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? Why?¡±


    ¡°Your behavior has gotten you to the point we have to send you Juvie, and your parents have consistently refused to work with the school to correct your behavior. As it is now, your bright future is about to be squandered.¡±


    ¡°What bright future? Not like I have good grades.¡±


    ¡°I thought last time you said grades didn¡¯t matter?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t, but the rest of the world seems to think so.¡±


    The principal sighed, ¡°The thing is I know you¡¯re smart. I¡¯ve never once been able to beat you at chess, and you were captain of the chess club in middle school. We just want to help you get on the right track so that you can be successful in life.¡±


    Brandon gave the woman next to him a sideway glance, ¡°Who¡¯s we? Check.¡±


    The principal furrowed his brow as he looked at the chessboard. ¡°Brandon, this young lady is a representative from Lamb, and is here to offer you an alternative.¡± He moved his queen in position to defend his king. Brandon could either retreat, or trade queens.


    ¡°Since when do public schools take offers from private businesses. Check.¡± He took the trade. Possible checkmate in four.


    ¡°Since they sign an agreement with the government to offer state of the art facilities to help struggling youths get their lives back on track.¡± He took Brandon¡¯s queen.


    Brandon smiled and moved his bishop. Guaranteed checkmate in three. ¡°Check. So let me guess, if I don¡¯t sign this than I¡¯m going to Juvie, my parents get CPS called on them, and I get thrown into the foster care system.¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°That¡¯s the gist of it,¡± the principal scratched his chin and moved to block his bishop.


    Brandon moved his knight. Checkmate in two. ¡°So, I take it she has some paperwork I need to take home and get my parents to sign.¡±


    The principal looked down and sighed, but there was a smile on his face as he tipped his king over, ¡°That¡¯s correct. I¡¯ll let the young lady explain it for you.¡±


    Brandon looked down at the chessboard and then to the woman. Fine, he¡¯d play this game too. Once they were done, he could get his parents to sign whatever waiver or contract they needed to, and he could light up and forget his worries.


    ¡°Father, I¡¯ve been accepted to Berklee.¡±


    ¡°Hm.¡±


    ¡°I, uh, thought you would like to hear that.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Father?¡±


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m supposed to be impressed? Proud? Of course, you got into Berklee. I¡¯ve been paying for private lessons for you your whole life, if you hadn¡¯t gotten into Berklee at least, then the last seventeen years of your life would have been a complete waste of money.¡±


    ¡°Yes, father.¡±


    ¡°What about Juilliard? Have you received an acceptance letter from them yet?¡±


    ¡°No, father.¡±


    ¡°I swear if you squander the opportunities me and your mother have paid for, I will be removing you from both our wills. Do you understand me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, father.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you do. I¡¯d like to remind you that your younger brother, despite being four years your junior, already plays two more instruments than you, and is considered as proficient at piano as you are. You¡¯re already failing to meet your responsibilities, and I will not have you be an embarrassment to the family. Don¡¯t think for one second that I won¡¯t cut off all funding for your future if you fail. You didn¡¯t have to waste time applying for scholarships thanks to how well off our family is, which you should have used that time practicing. Clearly, you did not. If you are not willing to put in the effort that your family has put forth in you, then don¡¯t think I won¡¯t kick you out of the house when you turn eighteen, understand me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, father.¡±


    ¡°Now what else did you call me for, I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t call just to waste my time over an acceptance letter I already knew you would receive.¡±


    ¡°No father, actually we had someone come to the school and offer me a music program for the gifted this upcoming winter, free of charge.¡±


    ¡°Who was that?¡±


    ¡°Someone from Lamb, I guess they¡¯re making some investments in today¡¯s youth.¡±


    ¡°You guess?¡±


    ¡°My apologies, father.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Send me the paperwork, and I¡¯ll decide if this music program is good enough to cancel your lessons during break for.¡±


    ¡°Yes, father.¡±


    Melanie Madison sat by herself in the cafeteria, while the other students whispered about her. She quietly ate her sandwich, made by her single father, who had been making them for her all her life for school meals. It was boring at this point for her, but anything but bland, being made with fresh meat from the butcher, homegrown tomatoes, lettuce, olives, vinaigrette, and a secret sauce that he had perfected himself. Every day she would receive an equally delectable sandwich, and he did switch out the bread, meat, and veggies for her frequently. Still, there was only so much you could do with a sandwich, and part of her was envious of the better variety her peers had with the school meals, even if they all claimed it tasted like cardboard. It at least smelled good.


    She heard one pair of freshmen as they walked by and pointed, saying, ¡°That¡¯s the girl!¡± She was indeed, ¡®the girl.¡¯ Melanie had been one of the cheerleaders, and had been dating Kyle, the quarterback. She had ended up getting pregnant, and he had immediately ghosted her, a difficult affair when attending a public school. There had been a very public confrontation with his parents and her father, where it was revealed that she was pregnant for the whole school to gawk at, not that it wasn¡¯t going to become very apparent very quickly as her belly grew in the coming months. Her father had asked if she wanted an abortion, and she had said no, which he respected.


    Since the news had broken, her girl friends had broken off with her, made worse by the fact that Kyle spread rumors that she was a slut, and he probably wasn¡¯t even the father. A bold-faced lie considering he was the only one who she had ever slept with, only after they both turned eighteen, and they had only had sex the one time. Frankly, she was absolutely disgusted by his behavior, though her heart still longed for him. Even with as terrible a break they had; a two-year relationship was not so easily forgotten. However, with his absolute failure to behave as a father, and her having been raised by a single father with an equally cruddy mother, Melanie was confident that the best course of action for the baby was to cut him out of her life, even if it hurt.


    Despite all this she struggled to feel any joy in her pregnancy, having been abandoned by her friends, and become the laughingstock of the school. Even grosser, the slut rumors had resulted in some less than stellar peers in her grade to come forth to try and sleep with her, thinking that somehow now they stood a chance for a quick score. It made her feal demeaning, but she would weather through this if she needed to. That didn¡¯t mean her grades weren¡¯t affected. They had plummeted from all A¡¯s to struggling just to pass as she found herself crying herself to sleep most nights, unable to focus on homework. Her biggest worry? She would become as horrible a mother as hers had been.


    ¡°Melanie Madison, principal¡¯s office.¡± The whole cafeteria became quieter as every eye fell on her, and the pretty, blue-eyed blonde packed up her sandwich and made her way to the entrance, trying to ignore the stinging eyes that wore into her, and failing completely as the rumors already started to spread.


    ¡°I heard she got caught sleeping with Jake in the bathroom.¡±


    ¡°What a slut.¡±


    ¡°Did you hear what she did to Kyle?¡±


    ¡°How awful, she didn¡¯t value their relationship, at all.¡±


    She managed to hold herself together just enough that the tears didn¡¯t start silently dripping down her face until she exited through the doors. She would not dignify them with her tears.


    Mary and Ally were having an emergency parent-teacher conference due to how badly Ally¡¯s grades had plummeted, and Ally stood outside the meeting room while they discussed what they were going to do to rectify the situation. After some time, the door opened, and her mother asked her to come in.


    She stood at the end of the meeting table, and each of her teachers talked about how she just stopped putting in work half-way through the semester and had become distant while losing all interest. Ally sat through it, and noticed there was a single woman, mid-thirties and in a conservative blue dress, who she did not recognize. She carried a clipboard and had a sadness in her eyes that seemed out of place, before making eye contact with her and hiding it with a smile. Odd.


    It was the vice principal who spoke, ¡°Mary, Ally, our concern is we believe Ally may be struggling with depression, and possibly a fear of failure. Luckily, we have received an offer from Lamb to pay for state-of-the-art treatment at one of their medical research centers.¡±


    ¡°Lamb?¡± Ally asked.


    ¡°Yes, they¡¯ve been investing in youth programs to help those struggling to help them with the future, and this is part of that program. What they¡¯re offering are doctors and experts, as well as a three-week trip to one of their facilities designed to help.¡±


    Mary glanced at Ally, and then said, ¡°Honey, they¡¯ve shown me pictures of the facilities. It¡¯s quite lovely, and you¡¯ll be with other kids your age dealing with the same struggles, so you won¡¯t be alone. They even have therapy dogs and cats available twenty-four/seven. I think this might be what¡¯s best for you.¡±


    Ally turned inward, feeling numb to the whole surreal situation. They continued to explain some of the facilities, and Mary asked her if she was willing to give it a try. Ally looked into her mother¡¯s pleading and desperate face, and found herself unable to say no.


    The strange woman with the fake smile stood up and brought them a clipboard with some paperwork. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Ally, we¡¯re going to do our best to help everyone we can. If we¡¯re all in agreement I just need some signatures from you and your mother. A couple of waivers and a contract agreeing that you will participate in our treatment, to the best of your ability, and that Lamb Inc. is allowed to use data collected during your stay to further research.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Mary said, and signed through the paperwork swiftly before handing her pen to Ally.


    Ally took the pen, and sighed, before signing a dozen waivers and the singular contract.


    Ally woke up sharply in her bed and sat up in stunned silence, causing Lily to lift her head in the dark and look at her in concern. ¡°Wolf in sheepskin. Lamb¡­ Crap!¡± It was amazing how weeks of waiting for a prophecy to come true could make you complacent.

 Marked for Death

    ¡°Ally, grab your bag, it¡¯s time to go!¡± Mary called as she headed outside to start up the old Volkswagen. Ally grabbed her backpack, which had the list of things to pack provided by Lamb in it, from her bed before bending over and scratching Lily behind the ears.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay girl, I got this,¡± Ally reassured the oblivious animal, before swinging her bag on her shoulder and headed out to the passenger side of the vehicle and sat down, placing her bag between her legs. Ally had plenty of time before this trip to consider what she was going to do. On the one hand, she didn¡¯t want to meet the headless hog farmer if she could help it, on the other hand, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure how her future was going to be affected by the contract.


    Initially she had considered running away after signing, but then she had the thought that if she did that it would lead to her meeting the boar, as the prophecy went. She considered just refusing to go, and asking to void her signature on the contract if that was legally possible, but once again, she wasn¡¯t sure if that would just seal her fate. Finally, she decided she¡¯d go, if only because the facility she would be going to would be in Indianapolis, as opposed to anywhere near Hazelwood, meaning that for now she would have time to figure out a plan.


    Ally¡¯s mom had been directed that on the final school day before winter break, she was to bring Ally to the high school at six ¡®o¡¯ clock PM, and they were already turning off the Golden Highway and onto the country road that led to the High School. She stared down at the school lights as they approached, the sun already having set as the days had become short at the start of the winter months. The lights sparkled, like brilliant diamonds in the winter chill, and the crescent wax moon shown in the night sky like a halo. Ally felt surreal.


    They pulled into the back of the High School, where the student parking was held and there was now a large black van without windows waiting for them. Ally stepped out and approached, wordlessly and silent as she prepared her mind for whatever was to come. Her mother looked at her with worry, ¡°Ally, I know your nervous, but I just want you to be happy.¡±


    ¡°I know mom.¡±


    The driver, a gentleman in his early thirties and brunette stubble stepped out and waved, ¡°Good evening, are you Mary and Allison?¡±


    ¡°Yes, are you the driver for Lamb?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct. Before we begin, I must check your bag, just for safety¡¯s sake. Need to make sure no contraband is brought in.¡± Ally nodded and handed the backpack, which he set onto his hood and began sorting through it. ¡°Everything¡¯s here. Now, just to be sure, you understand you can¡¯t bring your cell phone with you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Mary said politely.


    ¡°Good. Don¡¯t worry, she can use the onsite phone from 1600 to 1800 everyday, though she¡¯s limited to fifteen minutes so that the other patients can have a turn as needed. Visitation hours for Sunday were included in your pamphlet, still have that?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. Just¡­ I need you and your people to help my daughter, please.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, ma¡¯am, your daughter is in good hands. Now if you would,¡± he nodded for Ally to step into the back of the van, and Ally walked to the backdoors, which he opened. There were four seats there, and no windows so that she could see out. Everything was heavily padded, with pictures of different leafy and verdant landscapes dyed into the fabric.


    ¡°Great view,¡± Ally said sarcastically.


    ¡°The facility we¡¯re taking you to serves as a mental health crisis center, some of the patients aren¡¯t necessarily coming willingly, and some of them freak out with too much stimulation, so we do our best to keep the room low stress. Ally nodded to acknowledge and sat down in one of the chairs, pulling a seatbelt out and strapping herself in. The man shut the door, and she figured it likely automatically locked. The van started up, and she was surprised how smooth the ride was, he wasn¡¯t kidding when he said they tried to keep stimulation low.


    Ally found herself nodding off, and soon she was waking up in the clearing where she had first met the masked beast, surrounded by cats and dogs staring at her with those vibrant sapphire eyes. She looked around in confusion and called out. There was no answer.


    ¡°Status of the four test samples?¡±


    ¡°All of them have been picked up and are on their way to the testing site. We¡¯re timing their arrival for 2000, and test sample four at 2030. Forced manifestation is on schedule for 2100.¡±


    ¡°Any unusual behavior?¡±


    ¡°Test sample three has fallen asleep, and her DMR readings are through the roof.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re checking her baseline from in the van, and its ten times higher than any we¡¯ve seen in other test samples, even those that have been marked.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Interesting. Let¡¯s see what our masked friend has in store for us.¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, just musing out loud,¡± Randolph smiled. Intriguing.


    Ally woke up and yawned, the dream was fresh, but she was bothered by the fact that this time she had never seen the creature, as she had wanted to ask it some questions. Instead, she was surrounded by the animals, and when she tried to step out of the clearing their population was so dense that she was unable to push her way through. The event was made all the more eerie by their silence and unblinking eyes, and somewhere in the back of her head, she suspected that the masked being had been aware of her presence this time and made a point to keep her confined.


    The vehicle had come to a stop, and she heard the engine turning off followed by the familiar popping and cracking of cooling metal before the backdoor opened up and the man said, ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±


    Allie jumped out and looked around, surprised to see they were already inside of what appeared to be a garage, with an empty workbench and sleek walls, seemingly brand new and made of what appeared to be metal or ceramic, it was hard to tell with its shiny white paint job. ¡°Follow me,¡± the man ordered, and Ally followed him while he carried her bag with him into a door that led into the facility.


    They walked through a long hallway with glass displays showing a variety of different artworks, some were paintings similar to the images from the van, others were sculptures of bizarre shapes and sizes, that befuddling modern style where it was difficult to quite pinpoint what the object was or what purpose it could serve, organic and basic in shape, all at the same time.


    At the end of the hallway was a door with a curved handle, which he opened for her and gestured for her to come in. Ally did so and was surprised to see a large white room that looked incredibly expensive, looking more like a state-of-the-art billionaire¡¯s home than it did like a hospital. There was even what looked like a white grand piano. There were a series of couches in the middle of the room with two other people, teenagers like her, male and female, sitting down already who stood up to greet her.


    She gathered they must be the other patients, as neither wore clothes of nurses or doctors, instead wearing sweatpants and hoodies without strings, as they had been instructed so that there was nothing that could be used as a rope or noose. Ally didn¡¯t want to think about the events that had led to these instructions. ¡°Over here, we need to check you in before you join the other patients,¡± called a nurse from behind a round egg-shaped desk.


    Ally sat down, and she went through her bag again before setting it aside and taking Ally¡¯s temperatures, blood pressure, and other baseline medical measurements. Finally, she asked her to walk to the bathroom behind the desk where she would be required to strip for inspection, just to be sure she hadn¡¯t snuck in any contraband once again. The woman assured her that it was for hers and the other patients¡¯ safety and was included in the waiver she had signed.


    Ally sighed, before stripping down and the nurse inspected her, before commenting, ¡°Sorry, that bra has a wire in it, and isn¡¯t allowed. You¡¯ll have to forfeit it, and we¡¯ll return it at the end of your stay.¡±


    ¡°Am I supposed to go braless?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll provide some adequate undergarments for you. They¡¯re a little itchy, but they don¡¯t have a wire and will provide support.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Allison, please, we¡¯re here to help you.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    Allison finished changing and put her clothes back on, with the exception of her shoes and socks. Instead, they provided her with blue gripper socks, which had a little white star pattern on the bottom of the feet made of some material that held onto the otherwise smooth floor. The woman put her bra and shoes into a bag, emptied out her backpack and through that in the bag as well, and handed her what she had packed, some spare clothes and hygiene items. She then threw her items into a locker in the room and hung a lock on it, before escorting her out the bathroom and telling Ally to follow her.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The female patient was sitting on one of the couches but turned and saw her and waved. Ally nodded at her in return before following the nurse around the circular room to one of what appeared to be a few rooms adjacent to it. She entered and saw two beds with nightstands, one already made, with the other having hospital sheets neatly folded on it. A bathroom was attached to one of the ends of the room with a bathroom and shower. There were no doors, though the bathroom was oriented so no one could see inside from outside the room.


    ¡°Go ahead and set your things down here,¡± the nurse looked at her watch and scowled, ¡°You can make your bed later. For now, let¡¯s introduce you to the other patients.¡± Ally tossed her stuff to the foot of the bed and followed the nurse back into the main room and joined the other two while looking around.


    There was a boys¡¯ room as well, from what she gathered, also without a door. Other than that, there were no other entrances to the impressively large main room. She counted the doors again in her head, four in total. The hallway she entered through, the bedrooms, and the bathroom she had changed in with lockers. It did not occur to her for a second how inadequate the facilities were, and how could she? She had never been to a mental health facility before.


    She noticed cameras at regular intervals in the room, covering every angle from almost fifteen feet up, the round walls making it impossible to scale up to the lenses. There was a black skylight in the center as she craned her neck, and she was surprised to see the moon in it, and a distant orange glow that seemed¡­ familiar. She cocked her head to the side, it was like the lights she would see in the direction of the city of Indianapolis, visible for miles out. But they were in Indianapolis, why could she see it from here?


    ¡°Good evening, I would like to introduce you guys to your fellow patients. This is Allison Thomas. Do you go by Ally?¡±


    Ally responded to the nurse with a yes.


    ¡°Ally, this is Brandon Reese, and Melanie Madison. They¡¯ll be with you during your stay here,¡± Brandon waved his hand half-heartedly before crossing his arms and refusing to get up from the couch. He had long greasy hair, with whispers of a goatee beginning on his face. He looked bored and apathetic, and he refused to make eye contact with Ally or the nurse.


    Melanie, on the other hand walked over enthusiastically and gave Ally a hug, causing her to jump a little in shock, ¡°Hi, Ally! You can call me Mellie, it¡¯s great to meet you.¡±


    Ally didn¡¯t go for a hug back, but did manage to say, ¡°Nice to meet you too, uh, Mellie.¡±


    ¡°You can ignore Brandon, he¡¯s being forced to be here, and has made it clear he doesn¡¯t want to make friends.¡±


    ¡°Hm,¡± Brandon grunted.


    ¡°I on the other hand, came here voluntarily. They told me that this would be a great opportunity for me to get resources that will set me up for success for me and the¡­¡± Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head, ¡°That¡¯s enough about me though, why are you here?¡±


    ¡°Depression.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s¡­ Oh,¡± the spark in Mellie¡¯s eyes dimmed a little with sympathy before she continued, ¡°Well know while you¡¯re here I¡¯ll be here for you. You and I are going to be good friends, I promise you.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Ally said with a noncommittal shrug. Great, she was dealing with some preppy cheerleader or something. Just what she needed, some bubbly girl who didn¡¯t know the first thing about hardship or anything else. Ally couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom how an energetic girl like this ended up here, and if she was being honest, she didn¡¯t care. At least Brandon looked like how she felt.


    Ally turned towards him, not paying any heed to the nurse as she walked away and stepped out into the hallway leading to the garage, but Brandon¡¯s eyes followed her, and he raised an eyebrow in slightly curious confusion. ¡°So, Brandon, how¡¯d you get forced here?¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d the nurse leave?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The nurse. She left.¡±


    Ally looked around and realized he was right, and at the same time felt aggravated he had blown her off, ¡°Yeah. And?¡±


    ¡°Why would they leave three teenagers, one suffering from depression, another a druggie, and the third¡­ Honestly, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong with you yet, Mellie. But why would they leave us alone in a room together?¡±


    Mellie proposed, ¡°Maybe she went to the bathroom?¡±


    ¡°Bathroom¡¯s over there, she left towards the garage.¡±


    Ally asked, ¡°So what if she left us alone? We¡¯re all old enough to take care of ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Yes, except we¡¯re at a mental health center. Where people are often suicidal, violent, or worse.¡±


    Mellie pointed out, ¡°Well there are cameras over there.¡±


    ¡°Twenty-three paces.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Ally was getting more irritated by this guy¡¯s condescending attitude.


    ¡°Twenty-three paces to get through the hallway. There were no other doors in the garage besides the closed garage door, and the one leading into the building. No rooms had doors leading to anything even remotely resembling a monitor room. That means between wherever they¡¯re watching us, and reaching us, would be at least thirty seconds, probably more. Do you know how much damage we could do to each other in that time?¡±


    Ally took a step back, ¡°Go ahead and try it.¡± She felt a chill running down her spine.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to do anything. I¡¯m just saying they shouldn¡¯t be leaving us alone like this. It¡¯s strange.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re overthinking things Brandon,¡± Mellie said, before putting on her bubbly personality again and saying, ¡°How about this? We do icebreakers. It¡¯ll be fun!¡±


    Brandon looked at the two young woman, shook his head, and said, ¡°Whatever.¡± As soon as he was done the door to the hallway opened, and a new gentleman, dressed as a guard, escorted a new party in, causing the three to stare at the newcomer.


    He was young like them, likely a highschooler, but there was an air about him of confidence and superiority, as he stared from his brown eyes at the three patients, his skin dark like bark, and hair in well kept dreads. He wore expensive clothing, starting with black silken slacks and matching vest, a yellow tie, and a white shirt underneath. His shoes were shined to a mirror finish, and he looked very upper class, and more importantly, he was completely outside of the dress code required for the hospital. ¡°Who are these people?¡± he asked in slight confusion.


    The guard didn¡¯t respond to his question, instead gesturing to the piano and saying, ¡°If you would, my boss would like to assess your talent before we begin.¡± The young man looked at the three, and then to the piano, and with practiced cordiality said, ¡°Very well, but I expect answers afterwards. I thought this was a music camp.¡±


    ¡°Play.¡±


    Mellie, Ally, and Brandon had all stood up and were looking with intrigue and confusion at the pair, Brandon eyeing the gun at the guard¡¯s hip, taking note that he was armed with lethal force, but was without nonlethal options. Brandon¡¯s hair started to rise on his neck.


    The man sat on the piano bench, raised the fallboard, and began playing a beautiful melody. Melanie eyes opened wide as she saw his hands dance gracefully across the keys, moving so smoothly and rhythmically like she had never seen before, mesmerizing her as beautiful notes rang across the room, just as the door to the garage opened again.


    Ally turned back to the door and tilted her head as the nurse, along with several others, led what must have been twenty dogs into the room from leashes. They were followed shortly by men carrying animal crates that contained cats. They took the crates to the desk to open, and the dogs were released from their leashes and swarmed out into the room, taking particular interest in Ally. These must be the therapy cats and dogs Ally gathered. She began to pet them and looked into a beagle¡¯s face as she realized all of them had blue eyes, that while faint, were ever so slightly glowing.


    ¡°Aw! Look at these cuties!¡± Mellie exclaimed.


    ¡°Their eyes¡­¡± Ally said.


    ¡°What about them?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re glowing!¡±


    ¡°They are beautiful, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°No, they¡¯re glowing!¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Ally looked back at the beagle¡¯s eyes, which had turned brown. ¡°I¡­ you¡¯re right, they are beautiful.¡±


    The three pet the animals while the black gentleman continued to play, unaware of the motor in the piano becoming energized, even as the last of the nurses left the room with the crates and headed back into the garage.


    The music was interrupted by a loud thunderous crack, followed by a scream of unbridled pain as the pianist¡¯s hands were smashed by the fallboard even as they were playing. The three patients jumped up in shock and stared at the man, unable to see his hands pinned underneath as he groaned and pulled at them.


    Brandon stepped forward to help, still confused about what was happening. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you.¡± He froze in fear as he turned slowly to see the guard had pulled out his gun and had it pointed steadily at him in two hands. ¡°The three of you stay right there.¡±


    ¡°What have you done!?¡± the pianist cried, as he continued to get his hands free of the contraption.


    ¡°Failure.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°I made you a failure.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about!?¡± the man screamed while pulling uselessly to break free, his voice cracking in panic.


    ¡°Tell me, what do you think your family will do when they find out all your fingers are broken? Do you think daddy will still take care of you? No, we¡¯ve researched you and your family. We both know that without your musical career, you¡¯re nothing!¡±


    ¡°Oh, God!¡± The man cried as he continued to try and break free. The guard stepped over while holding the pistol aimed at the three patients. He kicked the leg of the piano and the fallboard opened up even as the man continued to pull, causing him to fall over and a couple of the dogs to come over and sniff at him as he struggled to pick himself up without using his hands.


    ¡°Stand by the others.¡±


    ¡°What is this!?¡± Mellie cried out desperately as the man sniffled and made his way to them. Ally got a look at his hands and had to turn away while covering her mouth in quiet horror. Where the fallboards had shut on his wrists were deep cuts, and each of his fingers were mangled, disjointed, and fractured in numerous positions.


    The guard ignored the question, instead pressing a button on his earpiece and asking, ¡°Are they marked?¡±


    Someone spoke from the other side, and the man nodded grimly, before turning to the four and saying. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but there is more at stake tonight than your lives¡¯. Even so, I know how unfair this is. You¡¯re all failures. A musician who will be disowned by his family for his disfigurement, a depressed girl failing all her classes, a pregnant woman who knows she will make a terrible mother, and a drug addicted loser who will likely grow up to be a convict. And unfortunately, that makes you ideal targets for the blessing¡­¡± As he spoke, he made his way back to the door leading to the exit.


    ¡°I really am sorry. I wish there was another way, but at least know you¡¯ll be dying being more than failures. There is purpose to your deaths.¡± He opened and shut the door behind him as he exited with that last statement, leaving the three patients huddled around the musician, all breathing hard and eyes wide in panic.


    ¡°What just happened?¡± Mellie breathed in horror.


    Ally looked up into the circular skylight, even as she was processing the words the guard had said, into the orange glow of what appeared to be Indianapolis was, and realized where they were. ¡°This isn¡¯t Indianapolis. We¡¯re in Hazelwood.¡±


    The musician growled in pain and fear, ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°The headless hog farmer of Hazelwood is coming.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡± said Mellie.


    ¡°¡­¡± said Brandon.


    ¡°¡­ What!?¡± said the musician.


    ¡°Sir, I don¡¯t think we should proceed.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­ but we must capture him now.¡±


    ¡°The control group though, test sample three is changing all our results, and we don¡¯t know how it¡¯ll affect the capture.¡±


    ¡°I know, but this is our chance.¡±


    ¡°Sir, manifestation confirmed, he just stepped out of the woods.¡±


    ¡°Sir, please, if we¡¯re going to stop the experiment, we need to do it now.¡±


    Randolph cursed, even as a manic smile spread on his face, ¡°Continue as planned. We¡¯re capturing Subject Omega tonight.¡± He stared at the screen indicating the DMR values of the three test samples. They had all risen as expected as soon as they had injured the musician, creating four grouped up failures for him to target. But Allison Thomas¡¯s DMR hadn¡¯t doubled, as was the normal indicator of being marked. It had risen a hundredfold, and was rising still, approaching levels on par with Subject Omega. Who knew what would happen when those two met?

 Trapped

    Silence should¡¯ve penetrated the room, but it was interrupted by the cats and dogs milling about the room. The oblivious animals were finding places to lie down for the evening. Most of the dogs settled on the cushions of the couches, with a couple of them laying instead against the wall. The cats slept on the back of the couches and settled on the check-in desk instead, having completely alien ideas on what constitutes comfort.


    The musician continued to suck air through his teeth in pain as he gingerly tried to hold his hands out so he didn¡¯t touch anything, and Ally once again found herself needing to turn away so that she didn¡¯t see the mangled hands, nausea croaking from the depths of her belly at the grisly sight.


    ¡°What do we?¡± Mellie asked into the open air at no one in particular, trying her best to help the musician by rubbing his arms in a pointless attempt to comfort him.


    ¡°We need to reach a hospital,¡± Brandon said, ¡°and get out of here.¡± He furrowed his brow as he looked around. The headless hog farmer? Complete nonsense, he had heard of the decapitating serial killer, but there was no way that murderer was working in cahoots with Lamb. There was no benefit for them to do so, and they originally came from out of state. The serial killer had been active for years prior to their transfer here, the problem now was there was only one exit, the same the guard had left through.


    The musician moaned, ¡°I concur, now how do we get out of here?¡±


    ¡°There were no windows in the bedrooms, the only exit is where that security guard left,¡± Brandon said, the gears of his head turning rapidly as he went through possible plans of escape. He had been thinking about how he would break out since he arrived as a mental exercise, but he didn¡¯t think for a second he was going to actually need to do so.


    ¡°You¡¯re not proposing we try to go out through there?¡± asked Mellie, pointing at the hallway. The two started arguing, and Ally looked at them before staring intently at the door leading to the garage.


    If the headless hog farmer was Philip Conway, then somehow, she suspected, what they were facing was way worse than any gun the security personnel had been armed with, plus why had the guard left in the first place? The answer was obvious, it wasn¡¯t safe for him to be here either. ¡°I don¡¯t think the guard is still there.¡±


    Brandon closed his eyes in thought, they had no basis for that conclusion per se, but they had already been acting strange by breaking the other man¡¯s arms. They had to have a strategy for bringing the four of them in. Nobody did anything without a reason, and if the guard had left then that probably meant it was to get out of here. ¡°Ally, was it?¡± She nodded. ¡°I think she¡¯s right. We should be safe to try and escape now. Then we can get ourselves over to a nearby hospital, if this is a medical facility, there should be an actual emergency room within walking distance.¡±


    ¡°I just told you we¡¯re in Hazelwood!¡± Ally said with indignation.


    ¡°What¡¯s your evidence?¡± Ally hesitated, it wasn¡¯t like she could tell him she had a dream prophesizing she would meet the boar, and the lights in the night sky was weak evidence by itself, she knew. It didn¡¯t help that they were supposed to be at a mental health clinic. They would just conclude she was completely crazy.


    ¡°I¡­ I just know, okay.¡±


    ¡°If we want to get out of this, we need to use logic.¡±


    The musician cried out, ¡°Can we please just do something? My hands, we need to save my hands¡­ please!¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Mellie said, ¡°If we go out through that door, we¡¯re all going to get shot!¡± As she said that the black man started sobbing, moaning desperately about his hands.


    Great, the musician was freaking out on top of everything, in that case Brandon was going to employ the democratic method, ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll take it to a vote. Who wants to leave and try the hospital?¡± The other two said aye. ¡°Now who wants to wait here?¡± Mellie crossed her arms miserably, but didn¡¯t bother responding, she had gotten the point. They were leaving, with or without her, and she was not going to let it be without her.


    ¡°Alright, we¡¯re going to go through the hallway and grab a van. If they took the vans with them, we¡¯re opening the garage door and make a break for it¡­ shoot we don¡¯t have any cellphones.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    Brandon looked down at the musician who was sitting next to a Dalmatian and had managed to set his wrists on his knees so that he wasn¡¯t putting any pressure on his delicate hands. ¡°Good! Pull up the directions for the hospital.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have service though.¡±


    Brandon paused, that didn¡¯t track¡­ unless they were outside of Indianapolis, ¡°That¡¯s fine, open up your GPS, you don¡¯t need cellphone service to bring up your location. I¡¯m familiar enough with Indianapolis¡¯s roads that I should be able to figure out where the closest hospital is and use your phone as a map.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t,¡± he hissed and winced in pain.


    The broken hands, that¡¯s right, Brandon turned towards Mellie, ¡°Grab his phone for him. Could you show her what pocket you have it in and give her your passcode¡­?¡±


    ¡°Apollo,¡± he answered the silent question, before leaning to the side and gesturing to his pocket for Mellie to pull it out. She brought it out, and he gave her the pin so that she could unlock and bring up the GPS.


    The two chattered while they were coordinating pulling that up and Brandon took that moment to stare directly at one of the cameras. At whoever it was on the other side who was watching them.


    ¡°Looks like we have a smart one,¡± Randolph mused while looking into the test sample¡¯s eyes through the monitor.


    ¡°Manifestation has occurred¡­ Sir, we have a problem.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Someone left one of the cars outside of the facility.¡±


    ¡°¡­ How?¡±


    ¡°It must have been Susan.¡±


    Randolph sighed, she had arrived and freaked out at them, screaming about the ethics of what they were doing, and had become violent. He had to have security arrive, escort her out, and arrange for her¡­ termination. Without the knowledge of the other scientists. Even so, perhaps this would make things fairer for their survivors. Even he had reservations about sacrificing teenagers, even though he knew it was for the greater good, even if the majority of them hadn¡¯t had a future in the first place. ¡°Leave it then. She would want them to have a way out, and I don¡¯t have the heart to take away their only hope.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Brandon?¡± Mellie¡¯s voice quivered as she looked in shock at the phone.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not in Indianapolis.¡±


    ¡°Well then where are we?¡± Brandon stared intensely at her, dreading her answer.


    ¡°¡­H-hazelwood¡­¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Brandon turned towards Ally, who had her arms crossed and was pacing impatiently. How had this girl known and with such certainty? There was no reason to think that Lamb and the serial killer were working together, it was absurd. He wasn¡¯t even entirely sure where Hazelwood was. Though he had heard about the killings from the rumors at school, he had never bothered looking up the story. She couldn¡¯t have come up with that leap of logic from nothing. ¡°Ally, how did you know we were in Hazelwood.¡±


    Ally turned away and shrugged.


    ¡°Ally!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I just did!¡± She yelled in frustration, tightening her crossed arms and looking away. Brandon looked at her eyes, she was blinking a lot, and not to hold back tears. She was lying. Great, just great. This was all he needed right now. He sighed, he¡¯d deal with that later, if ever. Now they had no way of knowing how to get out of there¡­


    Unless¡­ ¡°Ally?¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± she lashed out.


    Brandon remained calm, hoping his even tone would help ease her mind. ¡°Do you know the Hazelwood area?¡±


    ¡°¡­ Yes¡­¡±


    ¡°Mellie, show her the map.¡±


    Mellie nodded and approached Ally, offering the phone. Ally picked it up and stared at the GPS, her eyes squinting and dancing to the different road names. She scrolled on it in each direction before saying, ¡°I know where we are, and how to get out.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    She nodded slowly, ¡°We¡¯re a mile away from the firehouse. There should be someone on call there. Its weird though, we should be close enough for cellphone service from the tower.¡±


    ¡°Unless we¡¯re being jammed somehow,¡± Brandon mused out loud. He looked at the disheveled musician, the jittery and scared cheerleader, and Ally who was pacing and looked angrier more than anything. Alright, they knew where they needed to go, they could get out of there. ¡°Come on, time to go.¡± The others followed him to the door and held his breath as he went to pull the door to open, praying it wasn¡¯t locked. It should be fine, the lock looked like it was on their side, but you never know if it had a deadbolt on the other side. He breathed out as the door slowly opened, and he stuck his head out and peered down the white hallway, with its glass displays showing the different artworks. He turned around to tell the others it was clear and froze as he looked beyond the other three.


    Blue coals burned into his eyes as every animal in the room stared directly into his eyes. Their eyes were glowing the same azure fire, and he found himself stunned to silence as he looked at them before blinking. As soon as he did all their eyes returned to normal and his mouth fell open as he struggled to tell if what he just saw was an illusion or not.


    Mellie looked scared as she turned around in a sudden panic, then back to Brandon. ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°N-nothing.¡±


    ¡°Are we clear?¡± asked Apollo.


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re clear,¡± Brandon looked down the hallway, which was still empty, ¡°Come on.¡± He was just panicking and seeing things. He took slow steady breaths as he walked down the hallway, doing his best to keep himself level-headed. That was the only way they were going to make it through this. Stay calm. Be smart. He knew this, but it didn¡¯t make it any easier to be calm.


    They got to the next door, and he opened it up which unlike the other this one creaked and he winced and stopped at the noise. If they were going to sneak out, they would have lost the element of surprise now. He paused and listened, but all that met him was the loud breathing of the other three around him, who were doing nothing to stay quiet at all.


    He waited an adequate time, and then finished opening the door with a creak, revealing an empty garage. They had taken the vans. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see if there¡¯s a way to open the garage door.¡± He looked around for a button or switch but didn¡¯t see anything.


    Ally pointed and said, ¡°There¡¯s a handle on the garage door, I think you can just lift it up.¡±


    ¡°Assuming it isn¡¯t locked,¡± Despite saying this Mellie ran quickly to the garage door and lifted it up, even as Brandon approached and got within arm¡¯s length of her. She needed to calm down, she was opening the garage too fast, and they weren¡¯t getting a chance to peek underneath to make sure the guard wasn¡¯t waiting outside, ready to shoot.


    That wasn¡¯t what their concern needed to be. Mellie screamed in panic as the door cleared her line of sight and she stared right into the chest of a man and fell backwards. Brandon jumped both in surprise at her scream and at the thing in front of them, and Ally screamed as well as they all made their way back, before they all stopped and got a better look at the still figure before them.


    It had no head, with blood dripping and occasionally squirting from its neck, wore a Carhartt jacket with cowhide gloves, one wrapped in barbed wire and had blood dripping from it. It wore jeans, and tan boots, but most importantly it didn¡¯t move, still as death itself.


    Mellie was the first to recover, ¡°What is that!?¡±


    Brandon sighed in frustration, it looked incredibly real, but it was clearly a prop, otherwise how else could it hold itself still. He glared at Ally and asked, ¡°Is this some sort of joke?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me!?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Mellie asked, looking at Ally, then Brandon, and back to the figure at the foot of the garage.


    Brandon was thinking it could be a prank, that would explain how Ally knew that this was Hazelwood. Maybe this was some sort of scared straight crap? No¡­ her defensive posture and the terrible anger she was feeling seemed too real. He looked back at the prop and thought, and finally at Mellie, and said, ¡°Nothing¡­ Its just a prop, let¡¯s go.¡±


    He started to walk towards the thing, and at that moment it took a step forward, earning another scream from Mellie who got off the ground and bolted for the hallway door and retreated into the facility, leaving the other three with it.


    The thing was still again, but they had frozen in fear. Brandon barely even processed the dings of notifications from Apollo¡¯s phone after the garage door had opened.


    ¡°Sir, it seems to be frozen somehow.¡±


    ¡°I can see that. What¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I think Subject Alpha is responding to test sample three¡¯s DMR readings. Should we do something, sir?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t interfere, he isn¡¯t vulnerable yet.¡±


    The thing took another step, and as it did Brandon¡¯s view was cleared so that he could see a small parking lot on the outside, with a yellow car parked under a blueish white light that illuminated the lot for night. He looked at the garage door, it was wide enough to get by. He took off in a sprint, causing Apollo to cry out, ¡°Wait!¡±


    No time, the thing swung one arm at him, but he ducked and took off towards the car. Luckily it was unlocked, and he jumped in the driver¡¯s side and tried thinking about how to hotwire car, he had seen it done in the movies a lot, but he wasn¡¯t about to rely on Hollywood for carjacking advice. He looked at the sun visor and opened it, causing the keys to drop onto his lap. Alright that was lucky, he turned back and saw that the other two were still in the garage, and the thing was now beginning to properly walk towards them. He started the car and swung it around before slamming on the gas, speeding towards the headless thing.


    He rolled down the window and shouted, ¡°Out of the way!¡± Ally¡¯s eyes went wide before she dove to the side, tackling Apollo out of the way as Brandon ran over the thing which fell over the hood of the car and tumbled over his car to land on the ground, its limbs thrown in disarray and appearing to be broken before he crashed into the wall, causing his airbags to deploy and slam him back into his seat as his car lost and the paint crumbled away from the walls to reveal solid concrete.


    He breathed out in shock, and looked out the shattered window at Ally who was helping Apollo back to his feet. She looked back at him; surprise suddenly being replaced by a slight laugh. Brandon started laughing as well, after all, what else were they supposed to do? He had just run over a decapitated man.


    Snap! The wet crack caused them both to turn back towards the dead man, who¡¯s arms were contorting and straightening with wet squelches and cracks as the bones reset themselves.


    ¡°My god¡­!¡± Apollo exclaimed.


    Brandon wasn¡¯t having any of it, and he put the vehicle into reverse to back over the monster. He slammed the gas and hoped to park the car directly over it, giving them time to run, when the car jumped, and he was met by the screeching of tires. The thing had managed to stand up and had jammed its barbed hand into the back of the car and was managing to hold the thing in place as Brandon tried to flatten it. He put it back in drive and tried to get out of its clutch, but as soon as he released pressure it picked the back of the car up giving him no leverage to accelerate.


    Brandon opened the door and rolled out just in time as the monster jammed the back of the car into the ceiling and slammed it forward back into the wall, crushing where he would¡¯ve been if he had stayed in the car.


    He scrambled onto his feet and shouted, ¡°Inside! Now!¡± Ally and Apollo didn¡¯t need additional prompting, and as he ran through the door, he turned around to slam it shut, locking the door before turning to sprint down the hallway. Unfortunately, they were stopped by Mellie who had opened the other door and was staring through it silently, refusing to go through.


    ¡°Mellie! Move!¡±


    She didn¡¯t say anything, and the other two were also silent as they looked over her shoulder. Brandon shoved through and saw what it was that had brought them to a halt, the same sapphire eyes were glowing more intently than ever, and every cat and dog was standing and eerily silent as they observed them.


    There was a bang on the door behind them, and Brandon realized that whatever was happening in front of them, it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as what was waiting behind. He pushed Mellie gently forward and whispered, ¡°Mellie, we have to barricade the door.¡±


    She gave, and they stepped inside before shutting the door behind them, softly locking it. There was another bang from the garage.

 Beware of Silence

    Bang!


    ¡°Why are they like that?¡± Mellie¡¯s whispered plea quivered in the air as she did her best to hold back her fear, ignoring the dull banging behind them. The pets didn¡¯t respond to her question, obviously, yet mysteriously continued to stand and stare wide-eyed at the fearfully gawking humans.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Brandon responded, did a quick assessment and decided it wasn¡¯t an immediate threat compared to the banging behind them, before walking over to the desk and taking off his hoodie, revealing a white shirt underneath.


    Bang!


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± She hissed as he separated from the group, her eyes widening in shock as he ignored the glowing eyes and moved one of the cats out of his way so he could lay out the sweater, flipping it inside out as he did so. The cat didn¡¯t respond, resuming standing and staring at him as soon as he set it down.


    Bang!


    ¡°Clearing my head,¡± Brandon explained vaguely as he ripped the lining on the inside of the hoodie and pulled out a couple of small plastic bags he had smuggled in, which contained some paper, matches, and most importantly the dried leaves of his favorite plant. He began rolling a blunt, brought it to his mouth, and pulled out one of the matches striking it off the desk to ignite a small flare before bringing it to the calming medicine he needed so badly. There. That was better.


    Bang!


    Ally asked not quite believing her eyes, ¡°Is that weed?¡±


    ¡°You cannot possibly be serious right now!?¡± Apollo exclaimed, and indeed all of them stared in shock at the casualness of Brandon as he resealed the plastic bags and stuck them into his pockets with a shrug.


    Bang!


    ¡°Figure we need to stay calm right now. Best thing I could do to help,¡± Brandon explained himself.


    ¡°How,¡± Apollo began, ¡°is getting high going to help right now?¡±


    ¡°Buzz off.¡±


    Bang!


    ¡°Are you serious? My hands are broken, there is some sort of¡­ maniac¡­ outside,¡± Apollo didn¡¯t want to admit the impossibility of the decapitated corpse chasing them, so he settled on that word. Better that than admitting they had a monster after them, ¡°And all these animals are glowing! And you thought what? Now¡¯s the time to get high?¡±


    Bang!


    Brandon sucked deeply on the blunt, burning away the end quickly before pulling it out and speaking. ¡°I thought,¡± he paused for emphasis after mimicking Apollo¡¯s words, ¡°that right now I need to calm down while we come up with a plan.¡± He turned back to the cameras and stared at them intensely. They must be putting on one hell of a show for their captors.


    Bang!


    ¡°We¡¯re all going to die,¡± cried Mellie, sagging to the ground and falling on her knees while holding herself. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind, desperately clinging to not tumble down to the ground at the closure of autumn.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Brandon replied coarsely.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me to shut up!¡±


    Bang!


    She screamed in response to the last racket, ¡°Make it stop!¡±


    Ally bent over beside her and started stroking her shoulder in a one-armed embrace while she tried to reassure her that everything was going to be okay, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. He won¡¯t figure out how to get past the door. We¡¯re safe in here.¡±


    Bang!


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to be fine. He can¡¯t reach us. Besides, we won¡¯t all die.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°The headless hog farmer always leaves one survivor, doesn¡¯t he?¡± The rhetorical question caused Mellie¡¯s head to jerk up in surprise as her eyes popped out in shock at what Ally had said.


    Apollo said what they were all thinking, ¡°What in your right mind made you think that was reassuring!?¡±


    Ally¡¯s face contorted in instant regret as she realized what she had said and struggled to explain, ¡°I wasn¡¯t¡­ I was just saying-.¡±


    Apollo continued, his frustration giving way to bear the full weight of his fury, born of pain and fear, ¡°No! You were saying that only one of us could survive! Are you trying to pit us against each other? Why would you say something so stupid!?¡±


    ¡°I-it¡¯s fine,¡± stammered Mellie, ¡°Stop arguing, we need to figure this out together.¡±


    ¡°And you!¡± Apollo redirected his anger with unbridled rage, ¡°Pull yourself together!¡±


    Brandon snapped to attention, and as he stood up alert in realization he ordered, ¡°Shut up.¡±


    ¡°I will not shut up! She¡¯s being-.¡±


    ¡°Shh! Shut up!¡± Brandon hissed, bringing one finger to his lips commandingly. All three stared at him in confusion and alarm. Brandon cocked his head to listen, and pointed out to the others, ¡°The banging stopped.¡±


    They all had no time to react as suddenly the night light shattered and glinting hazards rained down upon the cats and dogs standing on the couches, who immediately jumped away noiselessly to dodge. With a terrible thud a body landed on the center of the floor, and with a sickening snap two femurs snapped as the hog farmer landed as a crumpled mess in the center of the room.


    ¡°To the garage!¡± Brandon cried out and the four turned and started running to the door, but there stood a great Mastiff, growling and bristling in front of it. They all stared at the thing, not immediately realizing that the thing was bloated, and was slowly getting bigger. When Brandon did process it, all he could mutter was, ¡°What the-,¡± as suddenly bone broke through the skin on the snout of dog¡¯s face and ribs pierced outside of its stomach.


    They watched in horror as bones snapped and cracked, skin tore and mended, and the Mastiff¡¯s glowing blue eyes¡¯ irises expanded even as they seemed to shrink until beady black abysses stared them down from the transformed creature. Before them now stood a swine, with a pair of glistening, foam-covered tusks. Its growl twisted into a high pitch, and the thing squealed aggressively as it stamped at the ground, warning them away from the door.


    Wet crackling and squelching erupted throughout the air as yowls and hisses, barks and growls spread like a cacophony through the room as the dismembered figure in the center grabbed one misshapen leg and with a horrendous snap forced it back in place before standing up and straightening the other in similar fashion. The bristling fury of animals morphing in the room was replaced by the squealing and oinking of pigs, as snouts began snuffling and bodies shuffling. ¡°Barricade in the bedrooms!¡± Brandon cried, before running around the room with Ally in front of him while Apollo and Mellie went for the other bedroom. Ally went to switch directions to join the other two, but Brandon tackled her just in time into the doorway as the hog farmer slammed into the wall where she was going to be.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Brandon picked her up quickly and said, ¡°The beds! Quick, they¡¯re made of metal!¡± He grabbed them and started heaving as Ally got on the other side and they pulled it up, so it was standing on end before they slid the bed, metal screeching on tile, towards the doorway even as a couple small pigs slipped inside, having been originally cats. Brandon felt relief as the bed started to go in place, they were going to make it!


    Too little. Too late. All in vain. An arm reached out behind the closing crack and a single barbed finger penetrated right into Ally¡¯s skull as it lunged through and tossed her into the back wall. ¡°Ally!¡± He called out, but he didn¡¯t have time to think about anything but himself as the bed was kicked in and he was thrown back as the mattress broke free from the frame causing him to roll across the ground. How could he expect something that upheaved a car to be stopped by a metal bed frame and mattress? He was getting sloppy in his panic.


    He looked up at their assailant as Ally groaned on the ground, not noticing one of the pigs scuttling excitedly at him until it got hold of his ear. He screamed as he jolted back up to his feet while pulling the creature from the side of his face before tossing the small piglet at the hog farmer.


    The un-barbed hand reached out to catch it by the throat, and the poor creature squealed out as he squeezed, drawing life out of it with a disgusting crunch before it squelched and cracked back into the shape of a cat, now dead and limp. It dropped the corpse to the ground and took a step forward, crushing the skull underfoot, spilling blood and gore, as he made for his killing approach on his victims.


    Brandon looked down to Ally, who was now sitting up against the wall breathing heavily, blood pouring from one eye with an eyelid shut, strangely concaved inwards. Her eye must have been destroyed, and she was probably going into shock, or so he figured. In reality, she was merely coming to terms with her death.


    It was an odd feeling. On the one hand she knew that she was supposed to be afraid. She was supposed to dread it, yet all she felt instead was a strange sense of acceptance mixed with relief. Life had become so tiresome, and here was death marching towards her now. Sure, it would hurt, how could having your head eaten alive not? But then it wouldn¡¯t. She would never hurt again. She wouldn¡¯t ever feel like her efforts were in vain again. She wouldn¡¯t ever let her mother down when she brought back bad grades. Her mother would finally be able to move on, live a better life where she wasn¡¯t dragged down by her or her now deceased deadbeat father. It was going to be okay.


    Brandon¡¯s mind was in an entirely different headspace as his mind struggled through the calming fog of marijuana. The blood of the cat on the ground had become so vibrant from the induced high, and he felt the sharpness of the barbed wire as they tore and sundered the air, even as he felt his body not responding quite how he needed it to. Run. Run. Run! RUN!


    Brandon breathed in, intaking oxygen as he reminded himself that panicking was going to do nothing. Ally was a mess on the ground, but she was still conscious, his motor control skills were inhibited, yes, but his senses were hair trigger sensitive. He took a quick glance around the room and a grey grate near the ceiling caught his eyes, vibrantly contrasting from the white of the wall. It wasn¡¯t small either, big enough that someone could crawl through. In that case all he needed to find was a way to incapacitate the farmer long enough to get out. The doorway wasn¡¯t an option, too many hogs with the larger ones that were once dogs now blocking it as they competed for entry.


    The hog farmer had never run in all this. He seemed to have hair trigger reflexes, but otherwise slow paced. This meant that they could outrun him if need be. In that case as long as Brandon stayed outside his range, there was a chance he could slow him down enough to buy time. There were two nightstands, a mattress on the ground, it was his move, and he was on the clock.


    Brandon grabbed the first of the nightstands and lobbed it with one arm as he scooped up the second, aiming for the torso of the headless monster. As he wanted, its fist lashed out to smash the metal stand to the side, but it had preoccupied it enough that he was able to launch the second stand at the legs of the lumbering murderer, knocking him to the ground. He fell onto the mattress, but only his torso. Still, that was enough. Brandon grabbed the end before the monster recovered and shoved it all the way into the doorway even as more pigs poured in stampeding and crushing the hog farmer underneath.


    He turned around, dashed to Ally, grabbed her by the elbow pulling her up, and shouted, ¡°Into the vent! Now!¡± She nodded and followed, even as the hog farmer stood up causing a couple pigs to tumble over, allowing Brandon to free his hands to pull at the grate. It gave out immediately. Perfect. He hoisted Ally up and she crawled up before turning around, preparing to grab Brandon¡¯s hands in order to help him climb to freedom.


    Times up.


    Brandon¡¯s hands slipped from her, and he desperately got a hold of her sweatpants¡¯ leg as he was pulled back by his foot by the headless assailant, who had caught up to them with swine swarming around on the ground in anticipation of their wicked and twisted meal.


    Ally managed to catch the brim of the vent preventing herself from falling out, even as Brandon desperately held on and screamed out, ¡°Help me!¡± Ally looked into his eyes, inadvertently opening her bad eyelid revealing the bloodied crater underneath, and something so much more.


    Panic. Horror. Twisting gut and burning pain in the leg. All these things flashed through Brandon¡¯s subconscious, but he was focused on one terrible fact. One thing that made him realize how truly doomed he was. That is, as he looked into Ally¡¯s bad eye, he saw a familiar glow. ¡°Please,¡± he begged, but he knew the answer already. How did Ally know they were in Hazelwood? How did she know Lamb had brought the monster? The conclusion for Brandon was obvious. She was responsible somehow.


    Ally looked beyond Brandon and saw the barbed wire of the hand digging into his leg. There was no escaping that terrible grip, and Brandon at the same time was about to pull her out with him to her death. She had moments earlier come to terms with it, but at the same time that didn¡¯t mean she still couldn¡¯t fight to see her mother one more time. Tell her that she loved her one last time.


    Crunch! Ally smashed Brandon¡¯s nose with her foot as she tried to shake free from him, and blood spurted from his nostrils as his nose collapsed under the pressure, yet he still didn¡¯t let go. ¡°Please¡­¡± he begged, his speech slurring from damage, and his plea falling on deaf ears.


    Crunch! His grip loosened for a second, and tears streamed down his face after the second blow landed as Ally gave a few inches under the pull before managing to prevent herself from being torn from out of the vent. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die!¡± His voice croaked and was nasally, coming out as nothing more than a pitiable whine.


    Crunch! He finally released her and fell back towards the monster, allowing Ally to scramble into vent and crawl out the other side, into the bedroom next door, kicking out the vent and causing Mellie to scream and Apollo to jump.


    For Brandon however, the true horror had only just begun as the hog farmer held him up by the leg and dangled his head towards the floor for his sadistic swine to feed. His screams were quickly snuffed out as the numerous snouts prodded him and teeth tore into his bone and flesh, tearing his head apart. His body jerked and twisted, before finally growing still. The hog farmer dropped him to the ground, letting him fall in an undignified pile upon the ground. Hidden cameras in the bedroom focused on the monster as from where the spine had been several jolts of electric blue danced into the air, weaving, and spreading like spider webbing into the air to form into a greyish matter, wrinkled and pulsing before too optic nerves emerged from the mass and stretched out. Like buds growing and then blossoming in grotesque fashion, two eyeballs formed and began sweeping the room, taking their bearings of the room they now found themselves. At the same time the hog farmer¡¯s stance changed, where before it had been slightly hunched and lumbered tensely, it now had a more graceful and controlled presence.


    The headless hog farmer of Hazelwood was no longer so headless. He now had a brain and eyes, with nerves spreading to where they would be able to control sinew and bone if there had been anything there to control. It created a disturbing image of disgust and revolt.


    In the monitoring station Randolph with his scientists stared with fascinated horror at the transformation. They hadn¡¯t been able to get a good view of Ally while she was in the vents, but Randolph could imagine the face of desperation that led to her kicking her fellow survivor, condemning him to his fate while saving her from hers.


    The lead scientist broke the silence, struggling to maintain a veneer of professionalism to hide her own disgust at what she had witnessed, and failing, ¡°Subject¡­¡± She cleared her throat, regaining composure, ¡°Subject Omega has manifested to stage two.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± Randolph was careful to hide the satisfaction from his voice, even if things were going as planned, he needed to respect the death of the first of the test samples, ¡°Is the recovery team in position?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good. As soon as Subject Omega has reached stage four, we¡¯re going to capture him.¡±


    ¡°What if he attempts stage five?¡±


    ¡°Then we run interference. We need to capture him as he is so that we can properly study and understand his phenomena.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

 Delirium

    Brandon was dead. He was dead and Ally knew she was responsible as she panted and doubled over to vomit. ¡°Ally!¡± Mellie cried out and came to her side. ¡°You¡¯re alright!¡± Ally continued to retch as she pictured Brandon¡¯s face, his desperate last words, and his screams which failed to fade away in her mind, even though he had already fallen silent.


    ¡°Ugh. I¡¯m going to be sick,¡± Apollo complained while forcing himself to turn away.


    ¡°Brandon¡¯s dead,¡± Ally gasped.


    ¡°We heard,¡± Apollo said in disgust, ¡°There was nothing you could do.¡±


    But that wasn¡¯t true. Ally may have been able to help him break free. Instead, she had kicked him when he was calling for help. Instead, his blood was on her hands. ¡°No¡­ He¡¯s dead¡­¡±


    Mellie tried her best to comfort Ally, ¡°Come on, if you want to make his death mean something we need to get out of this alive.¡± Ally looked at Mellie, and then started laughing, slowly rising in hysterics, causing her to be taken aback. Mellie was right! Ally had been ready to die, but instead she sacrificed Brandon. That meant she had to live!


    Life had felt meaningless, but maybe that wasn¡¯t true? Maybe she just needed to realize how precious life was, reach that point where she had lost all hope, and at the last moment know that she still wanted to survive. Make his death mean something? No, it wasn¡¯t that death meant something. It was that life had meaning because of death. Death was a finish line, and she had a journey that wasn¡¯t ready to end. Without death, she wouldn¡¯t have reason to live!


    ¡°What the hell? Stop it!¡± Apollo yelled as Ally threw her head back in manic laughter. It wasn¡¯t that she wasn¡¯t fearful anymore. It¡¯s that it had so completely overwhelmed her she wasn¡¯t even capable of processing it anymore, and in its wake was euphoria, emotions spilling out as a way of protecting her mind.


    ¡°¡­ Ally¡­¡± Mellie breathed, and then turned back to Apollo. ¡°She¡¯s in shock.¡±


    ¡°Great! Just great! At this rate with her like that, my hands in this condition, and us being trapped, looks like you¡¯re the one who is going to make it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true though. She¡¯s gone mental, and I¡¯ll be honest, I¡¯m not even sure if life is worth living anymore. My family will disown me once they find out I lost my,¡± Apollo looked down at his mangled hands and hesitated, ¡°my ability to play.¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t possibly be true?¡±


    ¡°It is. My father had made it crystal clear that my relationship with him hinges on not letting him down.¡±


    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be¡­ Besides¡­ Earlier, didn¡¯t the guard say that one of you were pregnant?¡± Apollo looked into Mellie¡¯s eyes, and she turned away in shame, ¡°It¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    Apollo looked down at his hands and closed his eyes. When he finally opened them again, he said, ¡°That settles it then. We¡¯re going to get you and your kid out of this. I promise you, if that¡¯s the last thing I do, I¡¯ll make it happen.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that.¡± Mellie started to shake as she cried, ¡°Please! We¡¯re all going to make it out of here, so don¡¯t say that! Please say you¡¯ll make it!¡±


    Apollo realized she needed to hear those words, but he whispered them with no conviction, ¡°We¡¯ll make it out. All of us.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Thank you.¡±


    Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. The two turned to face the bed as the scratching noises began on the other side, putting them on edge. ¡°Is he coming?¡±


    Ally giggled deliriously, ¡°He¡¯s too strong to be stopped by the bed. It¡¯s just the let piglets. Sniffing for truffles! We¡¯re the mushrooms.¡±


    ¡°Shut it,¡± Apollo said glancing at her, and she giggled again while rocking herself back and forth. He sighed. She was clearly completely gone. ¡°Mellie, grab her and take her away from the door. When he breaks through, we¡¯re going to make a run to get around him and exit through the garage. He only has two arms; he can¡¯t stop all of us from making it.¡±


    ¡°What about the pigs? They blocked the exit last time!¡±


    ¡°Then we kick them and shove them out of our way. I told you, didn¡¯t I? We¡¯re going to make it.¡±


    Mellie looked deep into Apollo¡¯s uncertain eyes and grew still with determination before nodding. She walked over to Ally and reached down to grab her by one sleeve to lead her away.


    ¡°Mellie, no!¡± Apollo yelled, but it was too late. From the vent a cowhide glove reached out even as she bent over and grabbed a handful of her blonde hair, ripping and pulling her up causing her to scream in pain and fear.


    Apollo ran to try and wrestle her free, but before he could Ally tackled him back and looked into his eyes, fear finally taking over again as tears streamed down her face and she said, ¡°No! We have to run! Help me move the bed, we must run!¡±


    ¡°Get off me!¡± Apollo struck Ally across the face knocking her to the side and grunted as he pulled himself up despite his protesting hands burning white-hot with pain as he forced them to work. Mellie was trying her best to break free, hitting the arm in vain, even as the monster lurched out and fell on top of her, pinning her to the ground.


    Apollo looked at their assailant and had a moment to process the floating eyes staring at him. Was that an¡­ exposed brain? The hog farmer began to stand up while the brain continued to pulsate and writhe, still pulling Mellie by her hair. She screamed harder, but to no avail. Apollo had no time to process the change in the hog farmer, all that mattered was getting Mellie free. He ran over and tried to punch the thing in the brain, but it caught his hand and squeezed, causing his bones to pierce skin.


    ¡°ARGH! LET HER GO!¡± Apollo wasn¡¯t going to give up, and the monster kneed him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to collapse as drool spilled out of his mouth. He squirmed on the ground as the farmer walked around him to the bed, dragging Mellie behind, and freed it from the doorway. The pigs didn¡¯t even bother swarming inside, with his mind returned the monster had full control over his hogs and he threw her to the ground.


    She tried to get back to her feet, but a single boot slammed into the small of her back and pinned her back into the ground as the pigs¡¯ mouths gaped, froth and fresh blood dripping from their mouths from their most recent meal.


    ¡°NOOOOOO!¡± Mellie screamed, but her fate was sealed as they consumed her, voraciously tearing into her face. One got hold of her eye and burst it like a berry in its mouth causing her to squirm in terror. The pain had already gone away as she went numb with the pain, but adrenaline pumped through her vein like liquid fire desperately trying to empower her to escape. The foot of the monster did not yield however, and moments later she lay still as the swine snorted and sniffed as they scrunched up whatever remained of her head.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Apollo gasped even as he struggled to his feet. Tears welled in his eyes as he saw Mellie grow still. He hadn¡¯t known her long, but for what little time he did she had never stopped caring about him and the others until the moment she died. She was a kind soul, he could tell, and would have been a good mother. Now, both her and the future life had been squashed, unfairly and without justice.


    His eyes watered as he looked at the large figure of the man straighten up, bone erupting from the neck and covering and protecting his once exposed nervous system. A skull wrapped around the eyes and brain, and soon the headless hog farmer stared from his eyes sunken into the white visage of skeletal armor.


    Apollo didn¡¯t even have the capacity to be surprised anymore. The thing was restoring itself with each kill, coming closer and closer to being complete with each kill. Why? Who knows? Who cares. Apollo looked over at Ally who was still splayed out on the ground crying and a fury fell over him. She had stopped him from saving Mellie. Maybe if she hadn¡¯t tackled him, he could have freed her before he came through the vent. Maybe. But now he would never know, and never be able to try again.


    He stumbled over to her and growled, ¡°You killed her! She was going to be a mother, and you got her killed!¡± His hands were in too much pain for him to use them, so he fell to his knees and headbutted Ally. ¡°You killed her!¡±


    ¡°Stop it!¡± Ally cried, while trying to block her face with her arms.


    ¡°You killed her!¡±


    ¡°Stop it!¡± She sobbed. And suddenly it hit her. Was that how Brandon had felt when she kicked him that first time? Was that how he felt when he pleaded with her?


    ¡°You killed her!¡±


    ¡°¡­ I want to die¡­¡± She moaned and dropped her hands to the side.


    ¡°You deserve to die!¡±


    ¡°I know¡­¡± Ally sobbed, and all fight left her body. Apollo glared at her, tears streaming, and a feeling of horror washed over him. What was he doing? He looked at his hands, bloodied and twisted, just like him. Was this what he became in the face of evil?


    ¡°Why? What am I doing?¡± He got off of Ally and backed away staring at his hands in horror, ¡°I¡¯m hurting someone¡­? Why? Hazelwood? Where am I?¡± His mind spiraled as it struggled to regain grips with reality. He was here for a music program, that¡¯s right! He had been playing the piano, a beautiful melody, that rang true! But it hadn¡¯t carried emotion the way music needed to. No, no, no. It was bland, boring, uninspired!


    But this feeling. This feeling! The dread, the horror, the fear. So real, so visceral! Of course, he was here for music, that¡¯s all that mattered. That¡¯s all that mattered to his father, and now Apollo could see it so clearly, so concisely, what it was that his father saw. He had a tune, a song, a melody, and harmony, waiting to be intwined! To capture the very human experience!


    Another step back and Apollo bumped into something. He looked up and saw a skull staring back at him, living eyes unable to blink staring intensely down at him. ¡°Oh.¡± It¡¯s all he could really say to sum up how he felt as he came crashing back to reality.


    The lead scientist had turned away after Mellie¡¯s death, she couldn¡¯t stomach what she was watching. Two teenagers were dead and watching the conversation between Apollo and Mellie regarding her pregnancy had destroyed her ability to compartmentalize her ability to humanize the test samples.


    ¡°Do I need you to pull you from the project?¡± Randolph asked coldly. It was too late, if they wanted to stop this nightmare from happening again, they needed to see this evening through. He knew this, and he couldn¡¯t have the experiment compromised by temporary lapses of judgement hampered by emotion.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. She knew what was at stake. She knew the headless hog farmer would keep hunting until they found a way to stop him. To stop anyone like him from being made again. She forced herself to look again even as Apollo headbutted Ally. ¡°I can do this. Sir, Subject Omega has reached stage three of his manifestation. The recovery team is deploying now and will stay out of range of manifestation until the last second.


    ¡°Good.¡± Randolph stroked his snowy goatee; it had taken over thirty years to get this close. He was not going to fail now, not after coming this far.


    Apollo ducked as the monster attempted to bear hug, quickly moving away from the hog farmer as he struggled to make some distance, but a small piglet ran in front of him tripping him. He turned and tried to get some distance, even as one barbed hand was reaching out to grab him.


    ¡°Philip Conway!¡±


    The monster froze, and its jaws started chattering violently creating a terrifying sound as Apollo turned to see Ally standing up, nightstand in hand, glaring at the monster. It looked at her, its expression unreadable without skin or muscle, and she hurled the nightstand at its head. It didn¡¯t react as it struck it, and it stumbled out of the way of the door as Ally ran and grabbed Apollo by the arm, dragging him to his feet and making a run for the exit.


    ¡°What did she just say?¡± Randolph exclaimed angrily.


    ¡°She called him by name!¡±


    ¡°How does she know its name!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, sir. Subject Omega is responding to it though!¡±


    Randolph shouted and kicked the console in front of him that contained the monitors. ¡°Don¡¯t let them escape, we need Subject Omega to reach stage four, now!¡±


    ¡°Sir, we have no control of the situation here!¡± The lead scientist cursed silently in her head. She had warned him that test sample three was going to construe the experiment, but he had insisted they continue. Now if they escaped, they were going to have to try again, another three people would be sacrificed, and all for nothing!


    The hogs shuffled in panic out of the two¡¯s way as they made for the garage hallway. Nothing blocked the door, and Ally cheered as she realized they were going to make. Apollo, on the other hand, turned back just in time, ¡°Watch out!¡± He shoved her to the side as he dived in the other way to dodge the two-hundred-pound pig soar through the air and slam into the metal door, blood spurting out of its orifices as it banged against the wall and instantly died, crackling, and squelching as it turned back into the Mastiff that had previously blocked the door.


    Ally, who had fallen to the ground turned back and saw the monster emerging from the bedroom, its head still chattering violently and loudly while it jittered and shook violently, as if something was desperately fighting to take it over.


    ¡°Philip Conway!¡± She called again, that¡¯s what had stunned it in the first place, maybe it would work again? Unfortunately for Ally, it seemed to have the opposite effect as the hog farmer froze, and then its eyes settled on Apollo, and it started its slow march towards him.


    ¡°Help me move the dog!¡± Apollo said, trying to kick and move the dog with his legs. Ally scrambled over and started dragging the dog out of the way, but it was too heavy.


    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°Shoot! We must circle around!¡± Ally turned back, the hog farmer was only a few steps away and was reaching out with his barbed hand, the barbwire dripping with his fresh blood. They both started running around the room, making their way back to the bedroom. The pigs moved out of their way, beady eyes staring at their out-of-reach heads hungrily. They met back on the other side, and the hog farmer was already marching halfway across to reach them again.


    ¡°What do we do? At this rate we¡¯re just going to tire out!¡±


    Apollo stared at Ally, back to the hog farmer, and then at Ally again, ¡°I might be able to move the body, but it will hurt like hell. Wait until he¡¯s just a couple steps away again, and then we¡¯ll make a run back for the door. We¡¯ll work together.¡± Ally nodded in acknowledgement, and both got ready to sprint while Apollo carefully gauged the last moment they could wait before executing the plan, so they would have as much time as possible to make it through the exit.


    ¡°Now!¡± They ran around and the hog farmer tried to grab him, he felt its fingers catch on his clothing, the spikes tearing through his sleeves, but not quite catching as he made a break for the exit. He slid on his side as he approached the dead dog and slammed his shoulder into it causing his hands to jar with pain and him to roar in pain. He pushed with his legs with all his might, and it immediately started to move. Ally got on the other side and dragged it, and the dog was out of the way.


    ¡°Door, door, door,¡± Apollo said desperately, and Ally jumped up and scrambled with the lock and pulled. Nothing. She flipped the lock again and pulled. Still nothing. ¡°Turn left to unlock!¡± Apollo cried, and Ally did so again and pulled in vain.


    The two stared at each other, and Ally breathed out in fear, ¡°No¡­¡±


    Randolph let out a sigh of relief, he had been worried for a moment there, but it looked like they were in the clear again. ¡°You should have told me you had a remote-controlled lock on the doors.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t know if the signal would be able to reach. The walls can stop cellphone signal, but luckily the locks worked off radio waves.¡±


    ¡°Good. It looks like things are coming to a head. Deploy the recovery team. As soon as the third test sample dies, I want Subject Omega subdued and captured. We¡¯re not letting him get away.


    ¡°What do you want to do with the survivor?¡±


    Randolph thought for a moment while he considered things, ¡°If test sample survives, have him terminated with the preplanned story for the media. If test sample three survives, I¡¯ll personally handle it. I think it would be a waste to not keep her alive for further study.¡±

 Sight

    ¡°Try harder!¡± Apollo yelled in frustration.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying hard as I can!¡± Ally shouted back as she tugged and pulled with all her weight, but the door didn¡¯t budge. Apollo took his mangled hands and wrapped them as hard as he could bear around the handle and tugged with her. She repressed the urge to gag as blood spurt from his wounds and his sticky hands, slick with blood, touched hers. She could be sick later. Right now, they needed the door to open.


    Neither dared look behind them to see how little time they had left, and the only indicator of how truly doomed they were came when Apollo screamed out when the barbwire sunk into his throat as he was pulled away. Ally whirled around and flattened herself to the door as the monster threw Apollo down and kicked him in the ribs with a deafening crack, sliding him several feet across the floor and causing him to spit up blood.


    Apollo¡¯s eyes bulged, but no sound came out of his mouth before sucking gasps as the hogs fell upon, digging into their third feast of the evening. There was no scream, he hadn¡¯t the air, and in just a few seconds the pigs spread away from his now still body, a bloody puddle spreading out from where his head at once been.


    Sinew and skin erupted from the hog farmer¡¯s neck, creeping, and consuming his head as it covered up exposed skull, and as it completed its transformation, he grabbed his head as if in pain, though no sound came out as it stumbled back a few feet in recoil. Ally watched in horror as he dropped his hands, revealing a young man in his twenties, his face pale, and ever so slightly transparent, as if not truly there, breathed heavily, fear and horror in his eyes.


    ¡°No¡­ No¡­ No, no, no! Not again!¡± His voice was hoarse, as if he¡¯d been screaming for hours, and his eyes were puffy.


    Ally relaxed a little, but remained ready to run at the slightest provocation, ¡°Are you¡­ Philip Conway?¡±


    He jolted at his name and stared at her, ¡°You¡­ You know my name?¡± She nodded. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I didn¡¯t¡­ I wasn¡¯t in control¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ You have to believe me!¡±


    Ally looked him over, and realized the man was more scared than her. ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    The man froze, fear overwhelming him for a second as he shook his head, ¡°I¡­ There are conditions¡­ I can¡¯t say¡­ It¡¯ll¡­¡±


    Ally recognized his reference to conditions, similar to what Rebecca had said before her death, and how talking had summoned the headless hog farmer. She put two and two together, and said, ¡°One of your conditions of the blessing is you can¡¯t say.¡±


    He nodded slowly, and then spat, ¡°Blessing? This is a curse! Just to be revived it forces me to kill! But I won¡¯t let it! I won¡¯t let it have what it wants! I¡¯m not a bad man, you have to believe me!¡± Ally inched away on the wall to try and get distance as he seemed to be getting more and more upset.


    ¡°I-if you aren¡¯t evil, then help me get out of here,¡± Ally pleaded.


    Philip looked at her, and then nodded, ¡°What do you need me to do?¡±


    ¡°Open the door¡­ please?¡± Ally tacked on courtesy, feeling like treating him with some dignity would help him stay in control, if even for just a moment. Whether it worked or not was irrelevant as the large man walked up to the door and grabbed the handle. He was about to tug when a motor within the door sounded, and it unlocked. Ally watched in shock as he glanced at her, and then pulled. The door slid open effortlessly.


    The smell of smoke powder followed the sudden explosion that sent the headless hog farmer soaring towards the center of the room, and Ally dived to the side in shock. She looked up and saw the gaping mouth of a pig charging at her, desperately seeking its final meal and causing her to scream before there was the sound of gunshots and the pig fell over and morphed back into a dog.


    Ally tried to scramble back to her feet but was pinned down and handcuffed as a unit of a dozen armored men poured into the room. The first carried some large handheld cannon, with smoke still billowing from its barrel where it had shot a massive beanbag at Philip as soon as he opened the door.


    Each of them had pistols, which were drawn, and they swiftly exterminated the pigs as they squealed and attempted to run away before contorting noisily to their original form. They then swapped to the weapon strapped on their chest, what appeared to be rifles except for them having drums for magazines and a sharp, barbed harpoon glistening from their barrels.


    Philip picked himself in time to have a harpoon penetrate his shoulder, and the special ops then turned and shot the wall, sending an anchor to embed in the wall and pull the cord on the harpoon taut. Philip strained under the force of the cable reeling him in, when another struck his thigh, then his side, hand, so on and so forth. He was strung up and soon unable to move as more people walked into the room, armed with large heavy-duty restraints as they approached Philip, his head already losing its skin as it shriveled up and he regressed back into his monstrous form.


    ¡°Take test sample three to medical,¡± one of the special ops ordered and Ally was hauled back to her feet and had a syringe placed into her neck before her vision blurred and she slipped towards unconsciousness.


    Ally woke up and scrambled to her feet to look around in alarm. She was in an office, with candles lit around the room with blue flames flickering in the darkness, providing minimum illumination. On the desk were a couple green plants, and behind it was a man in a shirt and slim tie, with white hair and goatee who looked intrigued and surprised to see her.


    ¡°Allison Thomas? Now this is a surprise.¡±


    Ally looked around in alarm, and then back to the man as slow recognition came to her. She had seen this man on the news several times. ¡°Aren¡¯t you Randy J?¡± she queried.


    ¡°Randolph is fine. Only the media calls me that.¡± He leaned forward on his desk and folded his hands before asking, ¡°So tell me, Allison, what are you doing here?¡±


    Ally looked at him in confusion, ¡°You¡¯re the one who kidnapped me! Why the hell am I in some office?¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Kidnapped? That is grossly misinformed. No, you and your mother signed a release placing you in my custody. As for why you¡¯re here, I can assume then you don¡¯t know where here is?¡±


    Ally looked around again and noticed the blue flames of the candles. ¡°We¡¯re back in the realm of the masked beast, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Well, well, aren¡¯t you informed. I¡¯m curious how you got here, you¡¯re supposed to be unconscious in an ambulance, on the way to a hospital as we speak.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m always sleeping when I wind up here.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯ve been here before? And without the ritual?¡±


    ¡°What ritual?¡±


    ¡°To enter the realm of the majesty, capture a bestial avatar and place one part burning coal, one part of one¡¯s own blood into the still beating chest. That¡¯s what¡¯s the text I found said and is how I¡¯ve been able to enter in the past.¡±


    ¡°¡­ No, never heard of doing anything like that.¡±


    ¡°Interesting. Well, since I have you here, I can debrief you now.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°We just used you as bait to stop the headless hog farmer of Hazelwood and succeeded. While our intentions may have been noble, our methods were something that many may consider as¡­ dubious.¡±


    ¡°You had three of us killed just to capture him?¡±


    ¡°You could characterize it as such, yes.¡±


    ¡°Characterize it as such!? You straight up sent us like lambs to the slaughter!¡±


    ¡°And who said you were out of the slaughterhouse?¡±


    Ally felt a chill run down her spine, ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°What do you think the plan was for the survivor? We lied and faked a hospital just to have you sacrificed to a supernatural monster. Did you really think we planned on releasing you?¡±


    ¡°¡­ You¡¯re still going to kill me¡­!?¡±


    Randolph unfolded his hands and smiled in what appeared to be kindly, but the threat he held over her life made it feel condescending, ¡°Initially, yes, that was the plan. However, I have found you to be¡­ Well to be frank you are an enigma to me. I was specifically asked to use you for this experiment, and in the process, you revealed you knew things no one has any right knowing, right down to the fact that you knew about Philip Conway. You even managed to survive to the end, and somehow, I suspect that was not by mistake. So instead, I would like to offer you an opportunity.¡±


    ¡°What opportunity?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll permit you to go on living, and in exchange you won¡¯t say a word of what happened tonight. In addition, I will be offering you an internship when you graduate, regardless of your academic success, with Lamb. I¡¯m quite curious to see what makes you so special.¡±


    ¡°¡­ That seems like a terrible plan, if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°And why is that?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s stopping me from going to the media with what you did here?¡±


    ¡°Well, for one, what we did was stop a headless monster that died several years ago from running rampant in a small town. What do you think they¡¯ll say, when you tell them we have captured a monster and are keeping it in our basement? No, you talking is a risk I¡¯m willing to take, not to mention the fact you are asking the question knowing full well I still have you in my custody tells me you were already planning on keeping your mouth shut.¡±


    Ally nodded slowly, and then a thought dawned on her, ¡°So you must be the trespasser, then.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°The masked beast, the one that appears in this realm. It said that there was a trespasser who had been entering. That must be you.¡±


    ¡°¡­ You can speak it?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°And you aren¡¯t¡­ breaking some sort of condition by doing so?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating. Truly fascinating.¡±


    ¡°¡­ You can¡¯t talk about it, can you?¡± Ally waited for a response, but Randolph just stared at her, and she realized that was her answer, ¡°Why? Why am I the only one who can see it and talk about it?¡±


    Randolph considered the question for a second, and then asked, ¡°If you can talk about it to others, why haven¡¯t you then?¡±


    Ally paused for a second, thinking at first it was because no one believed her, but then realized that wasn¡¯t why at all. It was a dream, who cared if they believed it or not? Why hadn¡¯t she talked to anyone about it, even when Rebecca had died, she had kept her mouth shut about it to everyone she knew. She should have gone to the authorities, shouldn¡¯t she have? So why? That was the thing, she knew the answer. It was simple. ¡°Because she can¡¯t see, child.¡±


    ¡°¡­ What!?¡± Finally, Randolph looked surprised, and slightly unsettled. His tone was shaken, but he maintained a steady volume despite it.


    Ally smiled, pressing her advantage. ¡°But she sees you, doesn¡¯t she. That¡¯s why I can talk to you.¡±


    Confusion languished on his face, and then he broke into a broad smile, ¡°You really are fascinating!¡±


    Randolph woke up in his office and stared down at the dead cat on the medical pan and scratched his chin. That had been the first time he had done the ritual, entered the realm, and the mask had not appeared. The fact that he had to be allowed in told him that the entity knew he had come but had instead chosen to unite him with Allison. He was unsure what game it was playing, but he was confident that he was close to achieving the impossible.


    ¡°Soon.¡± He mumbled. ¡°Soon I¡¯ll have conquered death.¡± He chuckled. That was the goal after all, to finally end death. The blessing of the second chance was the only clue to it being done, and it was clear that it was possible. If those blessed by the mask could cheat death, what stopped him from claiming that power for himself? And once he did, he could usher in a new age for humanity, one where there would be no need to fear time itself. For a price of course, at the end of the day, he was a businessman.


    Ally sat in her hospital bed; the side of her head wrapped in bandages where her eye had been destroyed. She had emergency surgery done removing what had been left of it and had been told they would be bringing her a false eye to replace it in a couple hours, but the optic nerve had been too deeply damaged for them to be able to replace it with a donor. When her mom finally arrived, she exclaimed, ¡°Oh, honey, you¡¯re okay!¡±


    ¡°Hey, mom.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe Lamb let another one of the patients sneak a knife into the facility and burn it down! They told me you were the only one to get out alive!¡±


    ¡°¡­ I see¡­¡± Ally had been told when she woke up what the story was going to be peddled by some Lamb employee, but it didn¡¯t make hearing someone else say it feel any less surreal. That wasn¡¯t what happened. She had met something supernatural and survived. She was responsible for the death of Brandon, Mellie, and Apollo, even if there was little that she could have done. She was alive¡­ but then again¡­ was she?


    ¡°Oh honey, I¡¯m sorry, I know you must still be in shock, here we can talk about something else.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s Lily?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ She had to stay at home. They don¡¯t let dogs into the hospital.¡±


    ¡°¡­ I¡¯d like to see her¡­¡± Ally stared blankly down. She felt¡­ numb? No, numb is how she felt when the day had begun. What she felt was¡­? ¡°Mom,¡± She turned and started shaking as she began to cry uncontrollable, ¡°I want to see Lily!¡±


    ¡°Oh, honey,¡± Mary hugged her daughter, ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, you¡¯ll get to see her when they release you.¡±


    ¡°Dad¡­ Lily is all I have from dad,¡± Ally let the anguish pour from her as she released everything she had been suppressing, ¡°I¡¯m so, so sorry!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry, Ally, there¡¯s nothing to be sorry for!¡±


    Ally cried and cried, until there was nothing else to mourn. Months of pain was released in moments, and while it didn¡¯t abscond her numbness, it allowed her a respite of emotion she had been starved of for so long. Was she alive? Of course, she was! She had survived. And now she needed to live, for the sake of who had died. There was meaning in her life¡­ and she knew what she needed to do with that life.


    Ally lifted her head up from Mary¡¯s chest, and stared over her shoulder as she sniffled, and right into the mask of the beast, who resided in the room with them, cramped against the walls. ¡°Hm, hm, hm. I see you, child!¡± The child-like voice spoke in amusement even as the eyes of the mask glowed brightly as it stared into Ally¡¯s very soul.

 The Found Boar

    Ally was supposed to stay an additional day for monitoring and processing before she was scheduled to be released first thing tomorrow morning. Mary spent as much time as she could with her, before being sent home at the end of visiting hours. She was naked, except for the airy hospital gown, and had an IV hooked to her arm feeding from a stand. Finally, a doctor arrived with a small box, and handed it to her.


    Ally examined the box, made of thin cardboard, and after careful consideration asked, ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s your new prosthetic eye,¡± the doctor replied matter-of-factly.


    Ally lifted up the box and turned it over, seeing that there was the logo of Lamb on it. She found something almost disturbing, considering the deaths they had just caused, of them being represented by a child with a lamb. She remembered the fortune the masked beast had told her, wolf in sheepskin. How appropriate. ¡°Did Lamb make this?¡±


    ¡°Correct. Randy J. paid for the eye, and had it made as an apology for what happened during your stay at his medical facility.¡±


    ¡°Randolph.¡±


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    Ally didn¡¯t bother explaining how she knew that. What was she going to tell the doctor? That she met him in a dream and told her that was the media¡¯s name for him? No, that would be insanity. Instead, she just insisted on, ¡°He prefers to be called Randolph.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Okay then.¡± The doctor proceeded to explain to her the care and usage of the eye, making sure that she understood that if she didn¡¯t properly take care of it, she could get an infection and would need to replace it sooner. And considering a replacement was a few thousand dollars, she probably wanted to make it last as long as possible since standard insurance didn¡¯t cover it. He then pardoned himself for the evening, telling her that they would be discharging her from the hospital tomorrow morning. Ally went to the bathroom, pulling the IV stand with her that had a bag of antibiotics hooked up on it, so that she could use the mirror to aid in putting in the fake eye. She found it awkward to pull the stand with her to the bathroom, but pushed through it regardless, opened her eyelid, and installed the prosthetic before rolling it around in her head. She looked in the mirror and doubled back.


    The prosthetic¡¯s iris was glowing, like a sapphire, and she recognized it as the same color of the cats and dogs she had seen over the weeks, or she supposed months now. She returned to the sink and stared intensely at the glowing orb before whispering, ¡°What in the world?¡± She turned her head to the side so her good eye could make it out better, and it faded back into her natural eye color. She paused, turned her head again and it flared blue. She closed her good eye while keeping the fake open and found that despite it being prosthetic, she could still see out of it, with the only observable oddity being that it glowed blue. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± She shuffled awkwardly out of her bathroom with the IV stand and walked out into the hallway, hoping that maybe she could ask the doctor more about the eye. Maybe Lamb had done something to her prosthetic?


    She froze as she stepped into the hospital ward and looked over to the nurses¡¯ desk, where a couple of cats, one black, the other white and both with glowing blue eyes gleamed as they glanced at Ally and then back to the nurses, deciding that she didn¡¯t matter. They were lounging on the desk, with one paw of the white cat¡¯s dangling off the desk while the black cat did its best impression of a loaf of pumpernickel bread.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Ally called out in slight confusion towards the nurses manning the station.


    One of the nurses looked up, a middle-aged and kindly woman with blonde hair, and exclaimed, ¡°Allison, what are you doing out of bed?¡±


    Ally paused for a second to consider the question, and instead of coming up with an excuse opted to ask, ¡°Should there be cats here in the hospital?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± The nurse¡¯s face scrunched up in confusion, and Ally closed her prosthetic eye for a second causing the cats to blink out of existence. Ally¡¯s jaw dropped ajar for a brief moment before she recovered and opened the bad eye again. As soon as she did so, the cats reappeared, relaxed and lazily regarding the nurse station as they had been before.


    ¡°N-nothing,¡± Ally struggled to recover her shock, hoping to mask it as best she could, ¡°I just needed to stretch my legs and move, is that alright?¡±


    The nurse looked her up and down in concern, and then said, ¡°Let me get you some slippers. Do you need someone to walk with you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright.¡± A minute later Ally was continuing to make her way down the hall, the gears of her mind cranking as she tried to understand what the cats were about. A doctor walked by, and she saw a large white dog, with glowing eyes, following him and its tail wagging enthusiastically. She closed her bad eye to double check, and sure enough, the dog ceased existing for as long as she kept that eye closed. Only her missing eye, her dead eye, could see the animals in the hospital.


    She walked into the elevator and stared at the buttons with numbers indicating their floor and destination, thinking and thinking, pondering and pondering, yet nothing seemed to make sense. She closed her eyes and remembered the first dream she had met the masked beast, and she realized that the cats and dogs were just like from then. Some as dark as the night, others white as snow, all having blazingly brilliant blue eyes that stared into your very soul. She pressed seven on the elevator keypad, not really knowing where it went, and waited for the elevator to give a little shake. She felt her inertia fight her ascent as well as the pull of the floor as it raised her up. Something about elevators always made her feel out of place, and it was heightened by the images that her new eye was revealing to her.


    The door opened the floor before her destination, and a doctor walked in with a clipboard in one arm. There was a massive cat following him, with wicked fangs and a large whip of a tail. Its head was built like a tiger, and she felt frail and fragile beside it even as its muscles shimmered beneath its gorgeous fur coat. She stared at the creature as it stuffed itself into the elevator, its body wrapping around her and the doctor who stood beside her and consulted his clipboard. The fierce animal hissed into her ear, but still the doctor ignored it, and Ally felt cold sweat drip down her back.


    He lifted one finger and pressed for floor eight, and the door slowly shut. Too slowly, Ally felt. Silence permeated the air, thick as the worse humidity, and Ally glanced at the doctor, then at the large cat, who met her gaze at the same time and snarled lightly in warning. Ally immediately snapped back to staring straight ahead as the hairs on her arms stood on end. One floor. She just had to travel one floor and she could get off of this death trap.


    Ding! Ally rushed out the door and was trying to make as much distance as she could when the doctor called, ¡°Hey!¡± She turned around slowly to see what he wanted and saw the large cat curling up around him looking quite pleased now that she was gone. ¡°You dropped your slipper, miss.¡±


    ¡°Th-thank you,¡± she grabbed it hurriedly, snatching it from his hand, and made as much distance as she could from the insane encounter and rushed into whichever ward she had landed. Once she was out of sight she bent over and brought her foot up so that she could slide the slipper back on. She turned the corner, sighing in relief now that she was free of the beast, before freezing in place as she found she was out of the frying pan and into the fire. Dozens of dogs and cats were curled up in this hallway, and she slowly tiptoed around them, dragging her IV stand behind her with one hand. ¡°Nice kitty,¡± she said to one of the larger ones who had raised its head up to observe the intruder. The animal rolled its eyes at her, yawned, and proceeded to ignore her. Ally continued down the hallway, and found she was almost free of the last of the furry guardians.


    Suddenly all the animals got up and started walking ahead of her, causing her to look around her feet in shock and awe. Ally watched in fascination before deciding that she had to follow them, feeling drawn by the procession of animals. They moved in unison, as if one minded, and their singular purpose, Ally was sure, was something she had to discover. They were entering one of the patient¡¯s rooms, and the last cat, small enough to be a pet, padded its way in silently.


    She stopped outside the door they had gone into, and watched as they gathered around the hospital bed, with an old man laying down, an IV hooked up to him and heart monitor, breathing weakly and faintly. His heart rate was painfully slow on the monitor, and she saw one white dog attempt to jump onto the bed. It failed, and one of larger dogs opened its mouth and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and lifted it up onto the bed. The dog happily and slowly scampered up to his chest, struggling to get its little paws over the folds in his blanket.


    It was a young puppy and yipped excitedly before grabbing at his gown and pulling lightly, but playfully. His heart line flattened, and a moment later from the nurses¡¯ desk came yelling as they responded to his death. Ally stepped back as she continued to watch in wonder.


    The puppy continued to pull at the gown, even as the nurses gathered around, and something transparent emerged from the body, until a ghostly visage broke free from the body and sat up, awoken by the pull. He looked down at the puppy, and his mouth moved as if to say something, but nothing came out, at least not for Ally¡¯s ears to hear. The puppy jumped off the bed, turned back while vigorously shaking its tail and barked.


    The pale ghost got up from the hospital bed, its spirit breaking free from the body and the old man followed the dog, walking past the yelling nurses who were trying to resuscitate the spirit¡¯s body. Past the determined doctors who were only just now arriving after the nurses. The dog walked into the hallway and turned left, parading proudly before looking Ally in the eye and yipping triumphantly. She looked back at the old man, who threw his head back as if laughing, who trailed behind it. A light appeared, and the puppy sat right outside it, staring back at the old man. He stopped beside the dog and patted it, in response it ran behind him and pushed against him, as if urging him to walk through the light. The man made a face like laughing again, and then stepped into the light, leaving the puppy panting happily as the light snapped out of existence, and with it the ghost was gone. The puppy barked once more, and one of the larger cats leaned down and nuzzled the puppy encouragingly, as if congratulating him on a job well done.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Ally found a tear dripping down one eye and touched it. Why was she crying? The man had passed, but she didn¡¯t know him. She didn¡¯t feel sad. No, this wasn¡¯t a tear of sorrow, what she had witnessed was not something to be mourned. It was a tear of¡­ ¡°Joy?¡± she asked out loud.


    Yes, that¡¯s what it was. She had just watched something so indescribably beautiful. The passing of a life in peace, one well lived. One that had been happy to go, guided by a young puppy, giddy to perform its duty! Death! What a wonderful thing it could be! Ally walked away and headed back to the elevator and hit one on the keypad. She walked by the cats and dogs without fear, for she knew now why they were here. They were shepherds of souls, or so she gathered. Shepherds prepared to escort the spirits to the next step.


    She walked out onto the first floor, silent and mostly empty, and walked down a hallway that had doors that were still open. They were empty with the exception of the occasional cat or dog, who roamed the hallways free of consequences, hidden from all but her eye. She walked deeper and deeper, until she heard some loud noises down through a set of doors. She walked through it and found herself in the waiting room of the emergency room.


    She stood there, and looked at the chaos, a few people who looked mostly fine, someone cradling a bleeding arm, crying and sobbing, those who looked sick, those who looked injured. Suddenly the front doors burst open, and through it came two gentlemen, one screaming for help, the other holding onto his chest and struggling to keep it upright even as he leaned on his companion for help.


    ¡°Help! My brother¡¯s been shot!¡± Cried the first man, and at that moment before anyone could react, a large black cat leaped across the room and sunk its teeth into the throat of the injured man. From his throat it lifted free a spirit by the neck, shaking and shuddering, and carefully carried him by his neck. The ghost assumed a fetal position, and the light appeared again. The black cat carried the man to the portal and deposited him inside gently before it dissipated into thin air as easily it had appeared. The cat stretched, and then sat down, eyeing the crowd as if looking for its next prey.


    ¡°No, no, no! Stay with me! Help! He isn¡¯t breathing!¡± Ally watched in wonder as the nurses rushed out and pulled out a mobile bed to place him on, working quickly to try and save his life. Little did any of them know, his spirit was already gone. Ally walked over to one of the chairs in the waiting room and had a seat while she continued to watch. They pulled the body into the back, and more people continued to come in as occasionally the nurses called forth people by name for treatment. The order didn¡¯t seem to follow who came in first, but rather the severity of the injury or disease. One man was given a bowl to throw up in while he waited for care, and Ally looked upon all of this in fascination.


    She didn¡¯t know how long she had watched, but as she did, she had time to think. Time to think about the animals that watched, only acting when someone died. About Philip Conway and the murders, seemingly conducted against his will. About Rebecca and Randolph, both from Alaska, and both somehow so closely connected to the masked beast she had met. Both had been given conditions that cost them their lives if they were to break it, as Rebecca had unfortunately made the mistake of doing so.


    She didn¡¯t respond when a large white neck made its way through the front doors, a black mask turning to look at her. The majestic form of the beast gracefully made its way in, and it set its neck resting on the row of chairs that shared its seat with Ally, the rest of its body seeming to pass through the other people in the lobby and its tail wrapping around the room. Its eyes were fully open, azure, and brilliant as they peered into the soul of Ally as it sat there.


    ¡°What are you thinking, child?¡±


    Ally didn¡¯t respond, continuing instead to monitor and watch the emergency room in curiosity. The masked creature turned to watch with her, and several minutes of silence passed by while they sat together. ¡°I think I understand now.¡±


    ¡°Understand?¡±


    ¡°Who you are. What you are.¡±


    ¡°How curious, child. In that case I ask you once again. Tell me, child, what is it you see when you behold me?¡±


    ¡°Death.¡±


    The mask¡¯s eyes flared as childish laughter shook the neck of the beast. Finally, she became still and said, ¡°Hm, hm, hm, how fascinating! First, you see me, and now you know my name! Never in all my years have I met someone such as you, Allison Thomas.¡±


    Ally finally looked at the mask and said, ¡°May I ask you some questions?¡±


    The mask tilted to the side, as if in thought, and said, ¡°I may, though I suspect, you know many of the answers.¡±


    ¡°Why did you give Philip Conway the blessing of the second chance?¡±


    ¡°I do not remember. It was many years ago, and there are many things that I have forgotten over the millennia.¡±


    ¡°You saw in him the same thing you saw in Rebecca Whitlock, that¡¯s why, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°And what do you think I saw in her?¡±


    ¡°The potential to save lives.¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. What makes you think Death wishes to save lives?¡±


    ¡°Because you don¡¯t cause our death. You merely are. You don¡¯t wish us harm. If anything, you give meaning to life. I think that¡¯s why you are.¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. Correct, child. I love humanity. But its avarice, uncontested, would ravage the world until there was nothing. I am relief from such affliction. But I do not wish anyone¡¯s life to end before its time. Death is necessary, but I have my time and place, no matter how cruel.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you let the trespasser be free?¡±


    ¡°No. The wolf in sheepskin is a danger to myself and the world. Were he to succeed, death would cease, and in its wake the world would consume itself. I do not seek him, for I have already behold him with my own eyes. Those who have met my gaze cannot escape me, no matter how hard they try.¡±


    ¡°You know how he is going to die.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Ally looked the mask in the eyes, and said, ¡°And if you can see me, you know how I am going to die.¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. Would you like me to tell you, child?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright. I¡¯ve already decided how I¡¯ll die. You have nothing to tell me that I don¡¯t already know.¡±


    ¡°Rare it is, to meet a soul so willing to face her own death.¡±


    ¡°I was wondering, why are your avatars are cats and dogs?¡±


    The mask looked at Ally, and then turned to the floor. A black dog and a white cat came up to meet it, as if summoned. ¡°They are my relationship with mankind. I am a constant companion. I, from the moment you are born, walk beside you and am excited to be there. I am a friend who will greet you into the unknown as happily as a dog would greet its owner returning home.¡± The dog at this barked, and then walked away, leaving only the snowy cat. ¡°I am the hunter, always searching for my next prey. I steal across the night, pouncing on those unsuspecting who have not prepared themselves for death. Those who run from it will find themselves victims to me. I am a hunter that thrusts those into the unknown as mischievously as a cat would greet its peers.¡± At this the cat mewed before walking away.


    ¡°So can you see and hear everything your avatars can?¡± Ally asked.


    ¡°Tell me, child, can you see and hear everything the cells of your body experience? No, the mind is separate from the white blood cell that fights disease in the body. You cannot communicate with it, nor help it directly. Each avatar acts independently to serve the whole, and I, myself, carry out only the tasks meant for the head of animal. I am able to respond to the knowledge of my avatars, but I do not have the capability to know where that information comes from, or to hold on to it for any amount of time. For my memory is fleeting, like the snow.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Ally was quiet for another minute while she thought some more. The mask looked at her, and then set a portion of its neck against her lap. Ally began to pet its billowing fur, its texture impossibly soft as it waved in the air as if defying gravity. Finally, Ally said, ¡°I¡¯m ready to do what I must do.¡±


    ¡°What is it you must do?¡±


    ¡°Force Philip to accept his blessing and end the nightmare.¡±


    The mask laughed again, and then said, ¡°Then what is it you will need from me, child, so that you can perform this task?¡±


    ¡°I think you are the one who needs something from me.¡±


    ¡°What, my dear child, would Death need from you?¡±


    ¡°To find the boar.¡± Ally didn¡¯t wait for a response as she broke the medical bracelet from her wrist and pulled out her IV, allowing blood to drip down her arm. The masked beast removed its head from her lap as she did so, and she stepped out the front door and marched slowly into the parking lot.


    The white puppy from before ran up growling playfully, and Ally looked down to see it holding onto a pair of keys. She bent over, took it from him with a scratch behind the ears, and pressed the unlock button. A vehicle in the parking lot beeped twice in response, and Ally walked to it and started up the engine.


    As she pulled out of the parking lot, she saw on the road lined hundreds of cats and dogs that stood in front of her on the side of the road. Ally remembered the first dream, and said, ¡°Show me the way.¡±


    Ally pulled into the cemetery around midnight and jumped out into the cold December evening wearing nothing but the hospital gown and slippers, but she did not feel the biting cold, or smell the crisp winter air. She was too focused on nothing but the lone living creature in the cemetery, and she walked over to it. She kept her bad eye shut; it was slightly disorienting to see the glowing eyes of the avatars if she didn¡¯t.


    At the top of the hill was a shaggy, black dog. It had an old, beaten, and worn collar around its neck, with a dull metal nametag on it. She approached the animal, gaunt and malnourished, and the dog ignored her, its dull eyes fixated only on the headstone. She looked at the headstone, revealed by the moonlight, to be the final resting place of Philip Conway. The dog threw its head into the air and howled miserably, mourning the tragedy that had befallen the young man.


    Ally bent to one knee, touching the icy ground, and upturned the nametag so that she could read it. ¡°Hello Chester.¡± The dog gave a scruffy bark in affirmation. On the back of the tag was an address, one that Ally was able to recall was the same as the Conway¡¯s house. It was the runaway dog, who had disappeared on the night that Philip had first died. It had found its way back to its boy, and now waited patiently for the coming of his second chance.


    Ally opened her bad eye, and instead of the dog was the giant boar from the dream, larger than ever as if representing how powerful the blessing had become as it struggled to fulfill its purpose against the wishes of its recipient, with its skin pulled taunt over its ribs. Its tusks shined wickedly in the moonlight, even as thick whiskers lined its snout, and it snorted while looking at her from its glowing blue eyes. The monstrous boar was the size of a sedan at this point, and it trembled under its own weight, even as it shivered in the winter night air.


    ¡°Hey, buddy. Are you ready to bring your boy back to life?¡± Ally asked while rubbing the boar¡¯s neck. Chester snorted in response, tapping its front hooves on the ground impatiently. Ally pulled the boar¡¯s head close and embraced it as she leaned forward to his ear. ¡°Take me to him.¡±


    The hog lifted its head towards the sky and squealed as loud as it could. Ally turned back as the braying and hissing of cats sounded behind her, an army of avatars emerging from the darkness as they responded to the cry. Slowly the symphony of felines and canines was replaced by the brazen brass of swine as they morphed and transformed under the cry of Chester. Behind the great crowd emerged the snow-white masked beast, its great tail flicking violently in the air and cracking like a whip as it reared its neck. A song erupted from its throat, even as its fur turned black as the night. It was a song of declaration, a song of endings, a song of second chances. Death was ready to reclaim its blessing, freeing it of the corruption of a man unready to accept it.


    The hog turned from Ally and broke out into a trot as it headed towards its owner, ready to fulfill its purpose. Ready to bring back life to its owner after the greater part of a decade. Chester had found someone who could help him save his boy, who had revealed him to the masked beast, and he was not about to let such an opportunity go to waste.

 It Started in 1993

    The truck rumbled across the ice-covered road slowly and methodically, chains wrapping the tires and gripping the ground as best as they could as the piece of engineering ingenuity traversed the rime covered ground. There had been freezing rainfall a week ago, coating everything in a thin sheet of ice creating dangerous driving conditions if it weren¡¯t for the weight of the truck breaking up the ice and the chains digging into the road below. The arctic wind bit and scratched across the tundra that dark brumal day as the temperature dipped into negative twenty degrees Fahrenheit. The snow had been compacted by the rime, protecting its layers so that none of its crystals could be blown away to obscure vision, allowing for a particularly clear evening despite the gale.  It was a three-dog night as the driver¡¯s parents would tend to say, or as the passenger riding shotgun might say, ¡°really bleeping cold.¡± Both were adequate descriptions of the evening.


    The air was so cold that the scent of the air was different from what one would otherwise expect. Nothing smelled at those temperatures as you would normally expect, with perhaps the exception of a good wood fire. It was fainter, weaker, and wholly more precise, as if other telltale scents had decided to join in the hibernation of the winter and had been stripped from the air. The only source of sound was the rumbling engine of the twenty-year-old truck, with the static noise of the radio playing country twang for its listeners, interrupted only by a news report of a coming winter storm that evening. The truck itself was green with a silver and red break stripe painted around it.


    The inhabitants of the truck were headed back into town, having just finished up with a small hike out in the wilderness and returning home for the evening. The group of young men were all in college and wore brightly colored coats with reflective tape to maximize their visibility for emergency responders should they need to find them. As expected, however, the hike had gone without a hitch, and they had enjoyed themselves immensely.


    The previous song ended on the radio, a rather melancholy song indeed, and a new lyrical masterpiece began, one that had a pep in its step and joyous, causing one of the boys to hoot and shout as he recognized it, ¡°Hell, yeah! Turn it up!¡± The driver complied with a smile, spun the dial with a flourish, and the four started singing slightly out of tune and akilter with the music, laughing and enjoying the polar Alaskan evening, already having turned dark. They lived below the arctic circle and had only a few hours of daylight a day even during the winter solstice, which had been last week, but they made a point every weekend to take advantage of the sublime hours with their expeditions to well-trodden trails. In a few weeks the days would begin getting noticeably longer, and they would soon be dealing with only a few hours a night, needing blackout curtains to help them get proper sleep. During those hours it would afford them time to take more daring expeditions and see some of the most resplendent sights of Alaska.


    The driver turned and laughed at his compatriots as they fumbled the lyrics, not seeing the figure emerging from the rime, a pale, white shadow with billowing brunette hair and icicles dripping from her fingertips. Her hair was clumped together, as if wetted before being frozen. She wore white wintry gear and pointed one finger with her pallid face agape in a silent and horrid scream. Her eyes were hazel, but it was difficult to tell as her eyes had clouded up and become flaccid, small ice crystals piercing through its surface where it had frozen. The engine stalled.


    The man turned forward in response to the sudden quiet and let out an expletive as he swerved the steering wheel to avoid the woman, not having time to process or realize her strange appearance, causing the truck to lose traction and slide off the road. The truck lurched as it launched into the snow with a loud crunch, and everyone on board was held back by their seatbelts as the vehicle lurched into a sudden stop padded by the snow. ¡°What happened?¡± asked one of the back passengers, concern dripping into his voice like a faulty faucet, attempted to be contained but leaking into his voice all the same.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, the truck turned off, and I thought I saw a woman on the road,¡± the driver explained. He looked in the rearview mirror, and saw the road was now empty. There was no hint that the mysterious lady had ever been there in the first place. He cranked the key, but despite his best efforts the starter didn¡¯t even sound, odd considering even if the engine stalled, if the battery worked it should still sound as it attempted to turn the engine. ¡°Come on, help me get her back on the road.¡±


    The four unloaded, grabbed cat litter from the truck¡¯s emergency kit, put some of the granules in the snow behind the tires, and managed to push the old truck with team effort back onto the road. Breathing heavily, the driver popped the hood from the pushbutton in the cabin before grabbing the latch on the front and lifting the hood. He pulled out his flashlight and shined it into the depths of the reliable old truck.


    ¡°You see what the problem is?¡± asked one of the passengers.


    The driver just stared incredulously into the engine compartment with his flashlight, ¡°Uh¡­ Take a look.¡± His tone revealed his own uncertainty in what he was staring at, indeed, it shouldn¡¯t even be possible.


    The other three came round and joined in his gawking as they stared at the rime covered engine, frozen over completely in a sheet of clear ice that gleamed clearly under the flashlight. ¡°How in the world did that happen?¡± asked one, scratching his head.


    He never got a chance to hear the response as something grabbed him by the shoulder, swung him around and howled into his face like the wind. The other three turned around in shock as they witnessed the ice-covered woman holding on to their compatriot, chilled air billowing out of her mouth and freezing their friend¡¯s face as ice crystals formed and popped his blood vessels. His face contorted in pain, but he failed to make a noise as his lips split under the cold and his face slowed until it couldn¡¯t move.


    The three screamed and one swung at the woman, but she sunk back into the snow, leaving a petrified corpse behind. ¡°Come on man,¡± said one of the survivors, not quite processing what had happened and pulled his elbow. The body simply fell over on the ground with a disgusting crunch. The driver showed the light on the face of their dead friend and held it for just a couple seconds as all three had time to finally understand that he was dead.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Collectively, all three felt adrenaline rush into their veins as their fight or flight responses fired on all cylinders, and each took off running, trying to make as much distance from whatever had just killed their friend as quickly as possible. There was a scream when the woman reappeared and grabbed the second man, tossing him bodily into the snow as he froze over, the ice on her body slowly melting now that she had killed twice. Water dripped from her, and there were disgusting slits in her eyeballs where before the ice crystals had pierced her eyes.


    The third felt himself grabbed by the ankle, having chosen to try and hide in the underbrush, and he hollered for her to let go even as a smarting burn permeated his ankle until there was a terrible crack and his ankle shattered. The worse part was when he went to stand up, his bone pierced through the snow and scratched horrendously on the permafrost, causing him to scream as white-hot pain replaced where his foot should have been.


    The fourth stopped as the initial panic drained away. He searched around in the dark, found a tree branch, and something in him snapped as he decided he needed to rescue his friend, even as his screams grew with intensity. He hefted up the thick bramble and hurried back with purpose just in time to see her taking a step towards her third victim. No more. He wasn¡¯t going to let her hurt anyone else if it was the last thing he did.


    He swung the heavy branch at her head as a primal roar rumbled from his chest and erupted from his mouth, empowering him even more, causing the branch to break in half across her, but she did not yield before the sudden onslaught, and continued her death march towards her third victim.  The deadly howl of wind erupted from her mouth, freezing the man with the broken ankle over as she had done before.


    The fourth stood there breathing heavily, unable to believe what he had just seen. He had been there, he had attacked her even, and all of it was in vain. Now, he was likely going to die, and for what? The fight started to leave him, and his muscles were surprisingly sore from the monstrous exertion the adrenaline had given him access to. The woman¡¯s eyes regained life, and the cloudy veil that prevailed all through the attack finally faded away, even as the rest of the ice thawed on the woman leaving her dripping wet, and she grabbed her throat as she started gasping air. ¡°What is this?¡± She sounded confused, horrified, and disoriented. ¡°Blessing? I¡¯ve been¡­ no, this is a curse! I won¡¯t do it! I won¡¯t kill again!¡± Her voice was shrill with panic and horror as she fell down to her knees and started to shake with emotion.


    The survivor took a step back and a twig snapped, causing her head to swivel to face him. She spluttered as she tried to explain, ¡°Wait- I- This is¡­! I can explain!¡± Her voice turned shrill with panic, and she fell over and started crawling towards him begging and pleading. The young man was not having any of it. He had seen what she had done to his friends, and he wasn¡¯t sticking around to see if she was planning to kill him as well. It didn¡¯t matter that something resembling humanity had returned to her, everything he had seen to that point had been that of a monster. He turned and ran, ran as fast as he could.


    He ran despite his muscles aching. He ran as his side burned like fire and threatened to force him to double over from the stitch in his side. He ran even as the wind started to howl. He ran even as the snow started to fall. He ran even as his vision began to be obscured by the whiteout. He ran until everything was numb, and his mind started to become foggy. He urged himself to continue running, even as a pair of headlights lit him up, but his mind was too far gone to even realize he had reached something resembling safety.


    He awoke with a jolt in a hospital bed and looked all around him as he struggled to figure out what had happened. He saw a call button and pressed it, and soon a nurse walked in and congratulated him on waking up and surviving the blizzard. She went on to explain that he had been found in the winter storm, unconscious, and had been lucky he had been found as there had been an avalanche in the winter storm, covering up much of the roads. He was found just in time by one of the emergency responders. There were several others who had disappeared into the blizzard, and they were actively trying to find them even as they spoke.


    The next day a news network arrived at his room, asking him questions about what had happened. They wanted to interview the survivors and do a story regarding the importance of avoiding inclement weather during the dead of winter. They didn¡¯t understand what had actually happened out there, in the dead of winter. They didn¡¯t understand there were monsters in the dark, as he had discovered, waiting to consume you.


    Seven others had died that night, and he tried to explain that a wicked spirit had come out of the snow, claiming the lives of the others. The nurse and newscaster discounted his account as nothing more than delirium from the storm, but he knew what he had seen. He knew there was something that science couldn¡¯t explain at the edge of humanities peripheral. Most importantly, he now felt a hunger for it, a desire to explain it. A desire to conquer it. He had narrowly avoided death, and he was going to be sure it could never happened again.


    He lay back in his hospital bed that evening and turned on the vacuum tube television set up in his room. It was all local channels, and there was nothing enjoyable on, so he switched over to the news, curious to see if his story had made the evening program. After a few minutes, the story he was to appear in came on. He sat up in abject confusion. The reporter from earlier that day had interviewed another survivor. She had mentioned there was another, but he hadn¡¯t thought anything of it at the time. It was a woman. It was the woman. He watched even as his jaw dropped as the lady, perhaps a decade his senior, was asked several questions on how she survived the storm, but she merely said she didn¡¯t want to say. Even more confusingly, the reporter stated she had disappeared a week prior, and she was lucky to have been found by emergency responders.


    She wasn¡¯t quite the same monster he had borne witness to the other night, she wore the same white clothes, which was how he recognized her at first, but her face was no longer dripping wet from melted water, nor frozen over. She was a plain looking brunette, and her eyes were sunken as if in sorrow. She looked emotionally exhausted, as if she had done or witnessed something horrifying, but even with that expression he could tell it was her. The hair color was right. The eye color was right. It was her face. Her hoarse and worn voice was familiar, and the reporter identified the woman as Rebecca Whitlock.


    The next day the man was released from the hospital, and he knew what he was going to do. What he had to do. He was going to track down this woman. He was going to find out what had driven her to murder his friends. And he was going to make the most out of his second chance at life. All of this, he was sure of. The nurse handed him a bag with his stuff, and he changed into his clothes before going over some paperwork and a release form as he prepared to leave. He went ahead and signed his name as he did so. Randolph J. Sorensen.

 The Rebirth of Philip Conway

    The body of Philip Conway was contained in the vault room of the holding facility, and he had been placed sitting on a stool that had latches made from chromium, cobalt, and nickel alloy fully enveloping his arms and legs. A collar around his midriff with four long poles anchored into the walls held him in place. The alloy was the toughest material ever created and was several inches thick to ensure that Philip could not break free.


    His skin, skull, and brain had evaporated shortly after his capture, and the body had become still ever since, making him easy to lead and handle, albeit he would strain on occasion in attempts to get away from his captors. The scientific research team had already determined that he could not de-manifest unless he was out of sight, and so there was a guard stationed 24/7 to keep their eyes on him.


    The guard was armed with a gun and a German shepherd, which they believed would react and transform when the headless hog farmer located new targets. The guard was to execute the animal and seal himself in the vault with the hog farmer while sounding the alarm for the containment team to come in and reassess the situation. They were confident his restraints would hold him, but if he began hunting, they couldn¡¯t be too precautious.


    A second guard was to patrol the perimeter of the facility with another guard dog, with the same instructions as the first apart from that instead of locking himself in with the monster, he was to head to the guard shack and monitor the situation inside from the screens inside. The cameras in the prison were high enough that Philip couldn¡¯t possibly reach it, and was embedded into the ceiling and armored, in case he tried throwing something, such as the guard inside, at it.


    The researchers were to arrive by company transport every morning, and leave via the same method, at the same time. They hypothesized that if they never left four candidates alone at the facility, he could never possibly mark them for the blessing. In addition, each guard was to conduct weekly psych evaluations to make sure they never suffered from a feeling of failure. This feeling was believed to be the catalyst for marking, based off previous targets of the hog farmer paired with their experiments inducing marking in others.


    There was a third party allowed to stay at the facility, Randolph J. Sorensen, who had an office situated with a viewing window facing the vault above the lab. He sat there now, going over the paperwork from the first day¡¯s study. In his current dormant state, Philip Conway¡¯s DMR readings had dropped to almost zero, an interesting change considering the association it had with the supernatural. The fact he could still move without a head, even with the reading so low, meant that DMR may not function the way they thought. Still, it had served its purpose in allowing them to locate marks and track the monster, and they had all the time in the world to understand the creature.


    The first day had been dedicated to taking baseline readings, and he was to be monitored for a month before experimentation was to commence so that they knew for a fact what his dormant and active states looked like. The excitement that came with finally having made such huge leaps in progress towards his dream had yet to wear off, but Randolph knew in the next few days that the novelty would begin to wear off. No matter, he would be able to think more clearly that way.


    Randolph glanced at the clock, it was almost ten ¡®o¡¯clock in the evening, and he needed to be getting some rest. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, debating in his head if he would just sleep there tonight. No, no, that wouldn¡¯t do. He needed to have a level head, with a well-rested body if he wanted to study this thing. He would go home, and sleep for at least a few hours before returning. Considering they were just getting baseline; he may even allow himself to sleep in. It was the least he could do considering he had been unable to sleep the night before when Subject Omega had been captured.


    His phone rang. Randolph stared at it with sudden unease, no one knew he was still there besides the guard out patrolling, who would see him as soon as he pulled out of the driveway. In that case, who was calling him at this hour, on this phone that only the researchers should have access to? He picked the phone up and put the speaker up to his ear.


    ¡°Good evening, this is Randolph, who is it?¡±


    ¡°Sir, this is Dr. Smith. I¡¯m calling from the-,¡± he was interrupted by Randolph.


    ¡°The hospital regarding Allison Thomas, yes, I know. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Sir, we have her on camera leaving the hospital in nothing but a gown and slippers about ten minutes ago. It would appear she somehow found keys on the ground, and then unlocked and drove off when one of our nurse¡¯s vehicles.¡±


    ¡°¡­ I thought I gave you explicit orders to keep an eye on her.¡±


    ¡°We were, sir, but we didn¡¯t believe she would leave in nothing but a hospital gown.¡±


    ¡°Then call the police. Tell them you have a runaway patient. I don¡¯t care what you have to say, find her, and bring her back, now.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± The phone¡¯s disconnect sound greeted Randolph¡¯s ear, and he set the phone down and folded his hands while thinking. It didn¡¯t make sense why she would leave in the middle of the night. Perhaps she was homesick, teenagers could be irrational and emotional, and considering the last twenty-four hours for her he could imagine her doing something so bull-headed.


    He dialed a number on his phone, and soon had his head of security on the line, ¡°This is Randolph.¡±


    ¡°What do you need, sir?¡±


    ¡°Our patient has stolen a vehicle and ran off. I want you to get your men to monitor the roads leading to her house and stop any vehicles that match the description from Dr. Smith. If you find her, kindly escort her back to the hospital. Call me as soon as you have news.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Randolph didn¡¯t wait for the dial tone before hanging up this time. He folded his hands again and thought some more, but that sense of unease persisted. No, if it persisted it wouldn¡¯t be worsening, sinking into the very depths of his guts.


    He rubbed his temples with his hands, pulled them across his face, and then got up from his desk. He walked over to a closet, opened it, and grabbed one of the kennels inside that contained a cat. He brought it to his desk, opened a refrigerator underneath his desk and pulled out a prepared needle and sedative he had stored in it. He put on some medical gloves stored in one of his drawers while he was at it, no need to get blood on himself. He filled the syringe, and then opened the kennel and brought the cat over so that he could inject it. The cat purred a little, before turning and hissing in response to the shot, its ears flattening on its head.


    He petted the animal to calm it as it became still and drifted to sleep. He opened a cabinet behind him and pulled out the surgical pan and placed it in the center of his desk before placing the unconscious cat on top of that, sprawled out on its back. He returned to the cabinet and pulled out a prepackaged needle and small kerosene stove. He set these on his desk and finally returned to the cabinet one last time to grab the scalpel and pick up a coal from a bag with a pair of tongs.


    He brought the rest of his supplies to his desk and sat down, pulling his chair forward as he prepared for his ritual. He unbuttoned and rolled up his right sleeve so that he could take a blood sample from his elbow with the needle. He fired up the kerosene stove, put the coal over it using the tongs, leaving it there to begin burning. Next was the scalpel. He picked it up and with practiced precision opened the belly of the cat open, blood oozing out slowly under its slowed heartbeat from the sedative. He picked the needle back up and pushed it out so that it dripped a few drops into the cat¡¯s opened stomach. Finally, he picked the coal up with the tong and pulled the incision of the cat apart enough to drop it into the cat¡¯s belly.


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm.¡± The mask was inches from his face and staring directly at him, eyes wide open with an intensity that caused him to sit back in surprise.


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± he mused as he collected his bearings and made sure to hide his nervousness, ¡°Aren¡¯t you quite eager to speak to me tonight?¡±


    ¡°I behold your gaze.¡±


    ¡°I can see that,¡± he waited for a response as he noted that the creature¡¯s fur, drifting through the air gracefully, was black. He had never seen its fur black before. ¡°You look different, are you trying a new look?¡±


    ¡°The boar shall bloat on the blood of the wolf, fattened under his guise of sheepskin.¡±


    Randolph¡¯s feeling of dread became worse, ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°I behold your gaze, child.¡±


    ¡°So, you keep saying. Care to explain?¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. Wake up!¡±


    Randolph woke up with a jolt. ¡°-you there, sir!? I repeat, we have a situation!¡±


    Randolph snatched the radio from his desk, accidentally knocking the tray and dead cat onto his carpeted floor. ¡°What¡¯s going on!?¡± he snarled.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°There¡¯s girl in a hospital gown right in front of me¡­ and she brought guests.¡±


    ¡°What is that supposed to mean,¡± he asked even as he turned to his monitor and switched his computer screen to the cameras outside. It showed eight camera views, and he clicked on the one that looked significantly off to enlarge it.


    From the camera he could see the guard standing across from a frozen knoll where the girl was standing. To his fascination, followed by abject horror, where there should have been a missing eye was now an eye identical to the masked beast, glowing wickedly in the winter air. Directly in front of her was a shaggy black dog that appeared to be malnourished, and behind her, as far as the camera could penetrate the darkness, was a field of glowing eyes belonging to a variety of cats and dogs.


    BZZZT! BZZZT! The siren for the alarm went off, indicating that one of the guards had sounded the alarm, and guessing from his camera feed it had to be the guard inside the vault, he opened that camera view and put it adjacent with the one showing Ally facing off the guard just in time to see the man inside the vault put a bullet into the body of the pig that was once his dog.


    He didn¡¯t bother listening to the report from the radio as he interrupted to order the first guard, ¡°Shoot her, then get inside, now!¡±


    The guard began to draw his gun, when suddenly his dog jumped up, beginning its transformation, and bit into his arm. The man cried out and dropped the gun, and went it hit the gravel on the ground it fired, shooting the man in the foot. He fell over and his dog dragged him towards Ally, even as its legs and face contorted and twisted into a hog. It finally released his arm and grabbed the man by the face, shaking his body back and forth as blood splattered onto the ground as it devoured his face. The cameras didn¡¯t have an audio feed, but Randolph could hear his screams reverberating through his windows.


    The man in the vault started yelling, even as the nervous system spread like spiderweb from Philip¡¯s gaping neck. Slowly his brain took shape, and his optic nerves threaded through the air before budding into eyes, that stared the guard directly in the face. He couldn¡¯t take it, pulling his pistol again and emptying bullet after bullet into the monster. Most planted firmly in his chest, but one shot severed the spinal cord at the neck causing the brain to fall out of the air, roll off the hog farmer¡¯s lap, and squelch to a halt just a couple inches from the corpse of transformed German-shepherd, its own brain matter oozing out of its skull.


    Click! Click! Click! In his panic he had emptied the barrel and fumbled with his second magazine for a second before regaining his composure and reloading with practiced efficiency and emptying his next clip into the straining corpse, still attempting to break free from his metallic bindings.


    What he failed to notice was the brain, although disconnected from the body, was still moving. Tendrils of nerves trickled from its severed cervical and began prodding and poking at the corpse of the pig. Finally, a tendril found its gaping head wound, and streamed into the head causing it to twitch and spasm as the body jolted.


    The guards second, and final, clip was empty when he noticed the swine spasming and gaped in horror as the thing pulled itself up, twisting and snapping bone as it forced itself into an upright position, standing on its two hind legs as if it thought it was human. Indeed, with Philip Conway¡¯s brain drooping over its shoulder, connecting into it fractured skull causing its pulped brain to ooze out sickeningly. It snorted and lurched forward, reaching its front hooves forward like it thought it had hands to grope with. The guard screamed and attempted to kick the abomination, but all he did was seal his fate as the thing lunged on top of him and spasmed violently against him, pinning him to the wall.


    His screams only ended once the swine managed to bite into his throat and tear, cutting his voice cords off and causing blood to gush like a waterfall over his chest.


    With a tremendous metallic bang, the restraints on the body shattered, dismembering the guard and pigs¡¯ body as the monster stood up, bone forming and stopping just enough to leave an opening on the top of its scalp. It walked over and the nerve tentacles freed themselves from the hog¡¯s head with a wet sucking sound before wrapping and pulling itself up the pant leg of the hog farmer. Slowly but surely, it brought itself to the opening in the skull, reoriented itself to face the correct direction, and then returned to its home as the skull finished forming to protect it.


    Randolph breathed heavily as he realized help wouldn¡¯t be coming soon enough. He wiped his brow and when he looked at the monitor again, instead of seeing Ally standing in her gown out in the cold, and Philip banging on the door of the vault as he tried to escape, he was instead greeted by a single mask with flaring eyes, paired with a childish laughter. ¡°I behold your gaze, child!¡± The monitor suddenly cackled as it short circuited and the smell of smoke billowed through the cracks in the screen before it turned black, causing Randolph to flinch.


    He got up from his desk and tried to walk to his cabinet, where he had a shotgun, but tripped on the body on the floor. He stared at it in horror when he realized it had transformed into a pig, and squealing started bursting from his closet where the other cats were stored.


    He scrambled to his feet as he reached out to the cabinet before stopping short, a lump catching in his throat when his hand stopped just short of the hospital gown of the teenage girl in front of him. Randolph stood up straightly slowly, even as Ally stared with him wither her heterochromia eyes, one glowing softly in his well illuminated office.


    Sweat dripped down the side of his face, but he decided to maintain some dignity as he straightened his tie and addressed the girl who had appeared so suddenly. Even now, he could hear Philip Conway banging on the vault door as he struggled to break free. But the worst part? Her hair had blackened, and now billowed in the air like it was suspended in water. ¡°Well then, Allison, to what do I owe the pleasure?¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. To what indeed, arrogant child,¡± her voice was more mature, but its tone was unmistakable. Ally spoke with the same voice as the mask.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­!? You¡¯ve given your power to this¡­ girl!?¡± A vein popped on Randolph¡¯s temple as his blood pressure rose. From fear or anger, he did not know. Perhaps they were one and the same by this point.


    ¡°Incorrect. I am Allison Thomas. I have merely become an avatar of Death, and I am here to bring meaning to your life.¡±


    ¡°Meaning? What meaning!? You¡¯ve released a monster who is too much of a failure to even take advantage of his blessing! I could have done something with that power, no! I will do something with that power! You think you can stop me? That monster only hunts failures, like him, and he only had two people to hunt tonight! You may have freed him for now, but me and my team will capture him again, and next time I will make sure our security can¡¯t be overwhelmed by some stupid girl!¡±


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm. You misunderstand the blessing.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± he snapped.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, the blessing prefers to trade the lives of four like-minded victims to restore life, but this is not the same blessing from seven years ago. Nor is it the same blessing as last night. The boar has been starved for so long now, and now it no longer cares who it must devour to bring back his beloved boy! No, wicked wolf, swollen by the blood of lambs. You are marked!¡±


    Randolph inched backwards as he screamed at her, ¡°No! You think I¡¯ll die tonight! You think this is the first time I¡¯ve been marked! I am a survivor, and I will-,¡± his voice caught, and he grabbed as his throat. ¡°I-I will-,¡± he struggled and strained his voice, until all that emerged was the squeal of a pig. His eyes bulged in horror, and with sudden rage he threw himself at Ally, grabbing her by the throat. There was a horrendous noise as metal tore from armored hinges and the vault door caved under the onslaught of Philip, but Randolph was too far gone as he squealed bloody murder into Ally¡¯s face.


    Ally¡¯s eyes rolled back, and her hair returned to her natural color as it fell back down, taken hold by gravity once again. Randolph did not relent though, he needed to make sure she was dead. He would not allow someone else to live with the power he so desperately craved.


    ¡°Hm, hm, hm.¡± He jumped up as beside his face appeared a corporeal mask attached to thin air. He backpedaled in terror, not realizing how fast and hard he was approaching the viewing window. It shattered as he tripped through it, and he flipped through the air once before his neck hit the edge of one of the lab tables, creating a sickening table while spilling some fluid onto the ground as he finished landing on the ground.


    Randolph laid on the ground and felt numbness instantly seize his body, even as the fluid level increased around his body. He attempted to pick himself up but found himself unable to move. A boot came into his view, and he knew instantly who¡¯s it was. The skulled monster grabbed him by his white hair and pulled, dragging his body through the lab, and exited outside, where hundreds of swine stared hungrily through the darkness with their beady eyes. He dropped Randolph to the ground before placing his barbed cowhide glove into his eerie mouth and whistled. The horde descended with an uproar.


    Philip Conway reeled back in horror as his face had fully restored, now transparent, ¡°No, no, no! What have I done this time! My God, why!?¡±


    Ally stumbled down the stairs from the office, massaging her throat where Randolph had strangled her. Her fake eye had lost its mysterious glow, and with her walked a shaggy black dog, ribs showing against its dull coat. ¡°It¡¯s alright, Philip, everything is going to be alright.¡±


    He turned, tears streaming down his face, ¡°You! It¡¯s you again! Please, I didn¡¯t want this to happen, I didn¡¯t want any of this to happen!¡±


    Ally shushed, ¡°I know. Everything is going to be alright. You won¡¯t ever hurt anyone ever again.¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t understand! I can¡¯t stop myself! Please, you need to run away, before I lose control again. I¡¯m begging you, please!¡±


    Ally walked over slowly and embraced Philip, causing him to flinch in surprise, then stared down in confusion at the girl, ¡°It¡¯s fine. After tonight, the nightmare is over.¡±


    ¡°W-what are you talking about?¡± The man stared at the dog in some confusion, and then asked with surprise, ¡°Ch-Chester? Is that you boy?¡±


    Ally released him and said, ¡°Your dog is the one who carries the blessing. He¡¯s been waiting for you to come back, this whole time.¡±


    The dog barked a weak, but happy bark, even as its bones started to crack and its body convulse, ¡°What¡¯s happening to him!?¡± Philip cried as he backed away.


    ¡°He¡¯s hungry, Philip, so very hungry. And I¡¯m tired. So. Very. Tired.¡± Ally sat down on the ground with a relieved sigh while Philip looked at Chester transform into a massive boar, now standing almost eight feet tall.


    ¡°¡­ Get up. Girl, get up! Now, he¡¯s going to eat you!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Philip, this is what needs to be done.¡±


    ¡°What are you saying!? Get up now!¡±


    The boar started sniffling at the ground as it took its first step towards Ally, even as she shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t Philip. This is the only way for it to end. It¡¯s time for you to take your second chance. Please don¡¯t waste it, a lot of lives have gone into it. Make it meaningful.¡± Ally lay down on the ground and closed her eyes.


    ¡°Stop it! Don¡¯t!¡± Philip ran to the boar¡¯s side and pulled at one leg, desperately trying to pull Chester away. ¡°Stop.¡± There was a sickening crunch.


    ¡°The headless hog farmer of Hazelwood was apprehended last night after he broke into a Lamb research facility and killed two guards, an unnamed runaway girl, and the CEO of Lamb, Randy J. Officials have yet to release a statement explaining what happened last night when-,¡± Mary turned off the television and cried.

 Epilogue

    Philip Conway had been sitting in silence in the interrogation room for hours. His eyes were puffy, red, and bloodshot, and he was still in his boots and jeans. His Carhartt had been taken away as evidence, as well as his cowhide gloves. He wore a white cotton shirt they had provided, that fit just a tad too tight. He smelled like sweat and death, skin sticking together from the salty residue, and his hair was matted and stuck up in tufts. Before his arrival to the police station, he had first received medical attention to his injured arm, which had the barbwire wrapped around it when he was still the monster, and had heavy bandages wrapped around it. Even moving it was enough to send spikes of pain through him, though he could hardly care anymore. He was alive, and for it, he was miserable. Once they were done treating him they had brought him into an interrogation room where they had been questioning him for about solid minute, than would let him mellow in the room before starting the cycle all over again in an attempt to wear him down. The police had yet to figure out his identity on top of everything else, which was likely to become sensational on the news as the mystery of his murders only deepened. Sure, they had caught the killer, but they were no where near getting any answers.


    He refused to answer a single question, he wouldn¡¯t dare risk it and trigger the conditions of the blessing that would kill him if he shared any information, though how it would work, he wasn¡¯t clear on. The masked beast¡¯s power, he suspected, was not so clearly defined as that. The worst part was he knew the conditions without being told, from the first time his mind had risen from the haze, he had instantly understood the situation he was in. It weaved into his very being, and like instinct, as easy as breathing, he understood it. He had died. He could come back. But he had to take a life. A terrible decision no one should ever have placed before him, but he had done his best to maintain his own morality in the face of it. He had refused, but it didn¡¯t end there. No, no, no! The blessing couldn¡¯t just leave him alone, let him die, let him wallow in his misfortune. Death had granted him a blessing, and he had no right to refuse it.


    He had decided he wouldn¡¯t play its game, and for that stubbornness, for that refusal the blessing became a curse, a prison, a sick twisted perversion as he was toyed with and brought back to the brink of resurrection time and time again. If it had ended there, he may have been able to steel his mind, assured himself that he was of good moral standing, but it couldn¡¯t. Why would it? He was just a man defying some demented god, and how dare he think that he had any control of any of it! And so, the memories surfaced, like water in a pot boiling and boiling, hissing and screaming, rising and frothing until they bubbled to the surface violently spilling into his consciousness! He had killed three men the first time in a kitchen. Then there had been the two women and man at the church. Three more dead, more fresh memories. Time and time again, with growing intensity as his own power seemed to grow in power and cruelty to force his hand to commit the last kill willingly. He had pinned them down, crushed their throats, directed his hogs, and they had been feasted upon with writhing agony, time and time again. Every time. Every memory. And they were as clear as if he was experiencing it in real time whenever he recalled them. It was his punishment, his foolishness, for defying Death, thinking that he knew what was best. He had faced the trolley problem, and his reward was the participation trophy that was the screams at night that would echo in his skull whenever he closed his eyes.


    The door to the interrogation room opened again and in walked a new pair, the first a blonde, prude-looking woman with her hair in a tight bun, a white blouse, and a long, black business skirt. The second was a younger man who had a bald head shaved down to a shine who wore a suit and tie. It was not entirely clear if he had shaved to hide his receding hairline, or if he just looked good that way and knew it. The arrival of these newcomers, however, didn¡¯t matter. Philip wasn¡¯t going to answer them anymore than he had answered the detectives who had poked and prodded him with questions prior, after all, what would even be the point? They wouldn¡¯t believe him, and he would die if he tried. No, all he could do was keep his mouth shut, and in some ways there was relief in that isolation, for who could judge him then?


    ¡°I brought you a water, the boys in blue tell me you haven¡¯t had a single thing to drink since your resurrection.¡±


    ¡­


    What did he just say?


    Philip straightened up and his face contorted in concern and confusion as the gentlemen held out the bottle and gave it a little encouraging shake. Philip ignored the gesture and just stared at him waiting for him to continue, so the man shrugged and set the bottle on the table beside them. It would be there when Philip was ready, he figured.


    ¡°Don¡¯t respond, we don¡¯t need you breaking your conditions and dying, we understand that. We just want to work with you so that what has happened to you can never happen again,¡± the man explained while he and his partner sat down on the table opposite to him. She pulled out her phone and opened a notes application on it, while he placed his arms on the table, his hands flat on the table.


    ¡°Just so you know, the camera is off. No need for the local sheriff¡¯s office to hear any of this. They wouldn¡¯t understand, and it would just cause confusion. For your awareness, we are familiar with the blessing of the second chance, the creature in the mask, and probably some things even you don¡¯t know, so there¡¯s no need for you to explain yourself to us. For now, we just need to confirm some information, you are Philip Conway, correct?¡±


    Philip opened his mouth and a croak emerged. He gave in, grabbed the water bottle, drank from it a couple times while swishing it around his mouth to rehydrate, before trying again, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Good. According to our records, you should be¡­ well actually, it might be easier if you tell us how old you think you are.¡±


    ¡°I am twenty-five. I turn twenty-six in October.¡±


    The woman jotted something down on her phone, ¡°That confirms it. No age since time of death. Victim still believes, and looks, the same age he was upon his initial death.¡± Philip stared at her silently, understanding what she was implying. He had no way of knowing how long he had been in limbo, but it sounded like it had been years.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to respond to her, we know that you can¡¯t confirm or deny your death thanks to the conditions. I¡¯ll continue.¡±


    ¡°-names?¡±


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    Philip took another drink, then managed, ¡°Your names? What are they?¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°My apologies, how rude of me. I¡¯m Agent Brookes, this is my partner, also Agent Brookes.¡±


    Philip looked from one, then the other, and then asked miserably, ¡°You guys related?¡±


    ¡°No, but we do work with a government agency that has been working with Lamb in order to try and better understand and prevent your tragedy again.¡±


    ¡°What agency?¡±


    ¡°¡­ That¡¯s classified information, though I may be able to share more with you on a later date.¡±


    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Philip didn¡¯t need much more than that, they had already proven they were well aware of the supernatural nature of his situation, and they seemed to have pieced together things well enough that he figured he might be able to trust them.


    ¡°We¡¯re offering you a job, though on paper it will more look like a plea bargain,¡± The man explained, and he pulled a bundle of papers from the inside pocket of his suit¡¯s jacket, placing it on the table. It had the logo of Lamb at the top of the paperwork, before proceeding into a pile of legalese that only a lawyer would be able to piece together.


    ¡°Plea bargain?¡±


    ¡°Right now, there¡¯s overwhelming evidence of your DNA at all the crime scenes, and they have been carefully documenting every instance of it. They haven¡¯t been able to figure out that it belongs to you, since they¡¯ve never had access to your blood for samples, but once they do there is no stopping it, you are being held responsible for all the murders. Hell, your own jacket was covered in blood, so they probably already have that at a lab. It doesn¡¯t help that, technically, it was you who killed them, which makes it worse considering you weren¡¯t even in control at the time, apart from your final kill. But that isn¡¯t justice since everything about your situation is quite frankly a mess. The courts won¡¯t see that, and you don¡¯t even have the means to speak up and defend yourself thanks to your conditions.¡±


    Philip didn¡¯t like that the man was implying he had killed the teenage girl in the hospital gown, but he couldn¡¯t very well explain she had committed suicide in the end by way of supernatural hog. Instead, Philip considered the offer. They were right, he was going to prison. There was no getting out of it, and honestly, he deserved it. How many people had died at his hands at this point? And that girl, that final girl had placed herself on the ground. Had allowed herself to be-.


    Philip put his head in his hands and said, ¡°I¡¯ll need time to think about it.¡±


    The woman responded, ¡°Philip, this isn¡¯t really a ¡®time to think¡¯ moment. We need an answer now, otherwise it will be difficult for us to do anything. The prosecutor is going to move fast, and you are not being offered bail, even though you are human now, they don¡¯t know that. The way law enforcement sees it, you were hard enough for them to catch the first time. We need to get you out of here before the media descend on this and turns this into a circus and a team of lawyers starts picking at your bleeding carcass for an easy win.¡±


    Philip didn¡¯t respond, nor was he going to. What was he to do? Rush a decision that would affect him for the rest of his life? There was also the fact that he felt he had to do something with his life. Ally¡¯s words echoed in his mind. Make it meaningful. He needed time to decide if that meant he needed to face retribution for what had happened, or if he needed to dedicate his life to stopping whatever force it was that had tormented him. Hell, maybe he could just go back to college, and finally start getting his life together.


    The bald man placed his hand on his partner¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Don¡¯t press him to hard. Don¡¯t forget he¡¯s been through a lot, more than anyone should ever have to.¡± He turned back to Philip while removing his hand from her shoulder, ¡°Tomorrow. We can give you until tomorrow to accept our deal, otherwise it will be too late. They are going to be transferring you to a more permanent holding facility. Please don¡¯t waste this chance, Philip. There¡¯s a lot of good someone with your experience can do if you work with us. Things that can save anyone else from going through the same hell you went through. We¡¯ll see you first thing in the morning tomorrow. Please, think about it.¡±


    The two rose from their chairs, turned around and left. Before the door shut behind them, in walked an officer who told him he was to be escorted to a cell and held overnight. Tomorrow, he iterated, not knowing that Philip had been told by the agents, if he didn¡¯t take the deal, he would be transferred to a state holding facility while waiting for case proceedings. The officer didn¡¯t bother hiding his disgust and contempt for Philip as he had him turn around so that he could be handcuffed. He made Philip walk in front of him as he escorted him.


    Philip was brought to the cell, ordered to step inside and face the wall, and then had the door slammed shut on him. He was then told to return to the grate and put his hands through, so that they could uncuff him. Philip complied, and the officer left, leaving another one with a police dog to watch over him from his desk while the television was on. It was tuned into one of the news networks, and Philip sat down on the cot inside while he collected his thoughts, ignoring whatever meaningless story they were peddling.


    Hours passed, and they eventually brought him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner. It was the best meal he had ever had in his life, and he legitimately cried tears of joy as he bit into it. How many actual years had passed since he had last tasted his mother¡¯s shepherds pie? Did they even know he was alive, yet? What would his dad think? Probably be disappointed, like he always was. Mom¡¯s heart would break when she heard what he had done. Philip hadn¡¯t thought about what he would do if he could just walk away, but he was beginning to realize that his home wasn¡¯t an option he wanted to explore. It would be too painful.


    ¡°Breaking news today,¡± began the reporter, and Philip wiped the crumbs from his mouth as he turned towards the television to see what was happening. He was starting to mentally recover from his despair and take interest in what was happening around him again.


    ¡°With the capture of the serial killer, known as the headless hog farmer of Hazelwood, a copycat murderer has already popped up. This time, it has occurred in New York, and police are urging citizens with any information to contact them. More on the story now, veteran reporter, Albert Welch, is on the scene.¡±


    The news changed cameras, and there was the normal delay before the reporter responded, ¡°Thank you Jessica. I¡¯m here in rural New York outside the local residence of Robert Fox, who was having a dinner party with friends this evening when tragedy struck. Someone dressed in a hospital gown appeared, and according to the surviving witness, had no head except for a single glowing eye. She then assaulted them. Police believe the suspect was wearing a costume during the attack to try and frighten her victims. The worst part though was her choice of weapon, a pair of hogs she brought with her that she used to decapitate her victims alive, just like the hog farmer. After killing three victims, she approached the fourth and told them that he should survive, and quote, ¡®Make it meaningful.¡¯ The victim also asserted that she wasn¡¯t wearing a costume, and police believe is delirious. He has been taken to the hospital and is expected to make a full recovery.¡±


    Philip grabbed the bars and howled, scaring the cop to his feet, and causing his dog to bark as he expressed an expletive. ¡°I¡¯ll take it! I¡¯ll take the plea deal!¡± Philip roared, his eyes hardening with resolve as he knew what he needed to do. Never again. He would dedicate his life so that never again anyone would have to face such horror. Make it meaningful? Make it meaningful!? He had felt awful for the girl, but now she was echoing such words after murdering! He would stop her if it was the last thing he did. He would stop Death if it was the last thing he did!


    ¡°Keep it down!¡± The guard yelled, pulling a baton out, walking over, and banging the bars so that Philip would back away. ¡°They¡¯ll be back in the morning, so keep it down until then, you murderer.¡± He snarled that last word, but Philip was too angry to care.


    Neither was ready to hear the squeal of swine from where the police dog had once been barking. ¡°Hm, hm, hm!¡±