The Silence of the Stalker (TDC Part 6) I

It was another two years before I finally discovered who had been behind the goings-on at the castle, and as it happens, so much more otherwise.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Jane and I left the castle without further incident; we showed the stuffy, pretentious manager of the place the footage we had found. Needless to say, he wasn’t impressed, not only was everything that happened somehow related to me, and therefore my fault, but we had caused damages that would cost money, as if we weren’t aware of that before. I tried my best to explain the situation, and when he wouldn’t see reason, I tried my best to convince him that the smashed mirror was actually an improvement to the most disgusting excuse for a bathroom I had ever seen in my life, but that only cause him to become more upset, so we left before any more damages could occur.

After a lecture on being civil, Jane promised me she would help me find whoever it was we saw in the castle. That’s how our search began. We checked every ghost hunter’s blog, every supernatural website to find any sort of anomaly in the system, we asked around the local area to see if anyone had noticed anything suspicious, we sought out local historians, local crazies, anyone who could provide even the slightest bit of information, of course everything turned up a dead end.

Any unusual occurrences at or around the castle had stopped almost immediately after our departure, and no-one reported anything after that night, it was as if nothing had happened. Jane wanted me to call my parents, I remember her exact words:

“Tim, whoever is doing this obviously has some kind of vendetta against you, for some reason, and if you don’t know, maybe your parents can tell you something that you don’t know, some family thing… I don’t know.”

I shrugged her off, I can’t remember what I said, probably just a fleeting ‘maybe’, but I knew I wouldn’t call them, it had been months since I had spoken to them, and I had no desire to hear the lengthy talking to I would receive due to said months of no contact. I have no idea why I had drifted so eagerly and so easily from my parents, but for some reason the separation felt natural to me, like it was supposed to happen, just the way it had. Either way, I knew all that I would get from returning to that family would be grief, so I made a vow to avoid that moment until it was upon me.

Months passed with no signs of anything happening, I genuinely began to think it didn’t happen, that somehow my mind had gone to yet another extreme. Me and Jane moved in together, we had spent the majority of our time together the past few months anyway, so we figured it was a natural step, it already seemed we were living together after all. It was not long after I had moved in that she suggested we take up another job.

“It makes sense, don’t you think?” she said, still chirpy as ever, “if this guy is out to get you, and that’s the way he likes to do it, he’s going to get involved with some kind of paranormal incidents, or at least try and lure you to one, I say, we carry on working, and see if anything turns up, if not at least we are back to work.”

I agreed. Of course, it was difficult to find anyone who was willing to let us go snooping around their properties, especially since we had screwed the first outing of our new career up so fantastically. Sooner or later however, we had some invitations to check out some odd, seemingly unexplainable occurrences. Most of them, as I highly suspected, were just the imaginings of paranoid citizens who believed they were hearing the ghost of one of their dead parents or grandparents in a house the happened to own. The majority of time, as I also suspected, these incidents came to nothing. However, there was one that was genuinely chilling, but not because of any paranormal activity.

A woman in her late fifties called us late at night, severely distressed, her name was Andrea Blake. She was near hysterical at the beginning, it took Jane some time to calm her down enough for her to be comprehensible, but when she had settled somewhat we managed to find out the issue. Apparently she had been visited several times in the past week by the ghost of her son. Seemingly a standard case, however, it soon became apparent this wasn’t a typical ‘haunting.’ The first night she was visited by this ‘ghost’ she had blamed it on the medication she was taking, the doctor had warned her that there could be hallucinations as a side-effect, so whilst she had been greatly distressed, she saw no reason to make any note of it. The second time he had visited, she had been off the medication for at least a week, this time she called the police. Obviously the spectre had vanished by the time they arrived, and with no apparent crime or disturbance the police saw no reason to look into the incident any further. The third time she called the police again, this time they threatened to charge her with wasting police time should she call them out again, and recommend she go for a psychological wellbeing check. After the fourth time, she resolved to find an alternative solution. That was us. We told her we would come by first thing in the morning… and we did.

We arrived at her house, which she seemed understandably reluctant to be in, and took a look around. The whole house seemed eerily normal, usually in a house with so called ‘supernatural happenings’ there is some sign of stress, anxiety, paranoia… something that shows that the owner of the place a little on the unstable side, but in this case, Andrea’s house was average, if slightly obsessively clean.

“Are you still staying here, Mrs. Blake?” I asked, as coolly as I could.

“I can’t stay in this house until this is dealt with; I’m staying with my sister for the moment, so you two can take as much time as you need.”

We inspected the place a little further before sitting Andrea down in the living room to discuss the situation. Jane asked the questions, she was better with people than I was, I hadn’t had much experience in that field, I just took notes.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Andrea, when was it that your son died?” she asked gently as she placed her hand on Andrea’s.

“Just over four years ago now.”

“And how did he pass away?”

“He worked on a construction site, and there was an accident- he was always so careful- but the machinery malfunction- or so they told me- they were hauling bricks or tiles- or something- over the top of the building, and somehow the thing snapped and they all fell down, one of the bricks hit my David with such a force that it broke his neck.” And with that she began to wail once more, and Jane had to step in to console her. She went on for some time regarding the safety and ethics of a construction site, and how the insurances companies hadn’t covered her son properly, before getting back to the topic at hand.

“Tell me, Andrea, before these hauntings started to happen, was there anything unusual or out of place that you happened to notice? Anything at all, every little helps.” Jane smiled warmly at her.

Andrea shook her head, “No, I’m sorry… wait, wait a moment, yes I think there was, I remember thinking I’d heard footsteps around the house, but I could never place where they were coming from.”

“Okay, that’s fine, thank you, just one final question if we could Mrs. Blake,” Jane soothed, “Did you have a funeral for your son? Did you bury him? Cremate him?” She shook her head.

“David wanted his body donated for study, we never got to bury his body, but yes, we had a funeral, we just didn’t get to bury him…” That set her off into another fit of hysterical tears. Then it started to get dark, and she left the house to us. I remained sceptical at this point.

“What are we doing here, Jane?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really think we are going to find anything here tonight?”

“Oh right, I suppose you think she’s crazy, don’t you? Think this is all in her head?” She scolded.

“No… no, she seemed sane enough, It’s just… these visits from her son, they are specific to her, right? So why would anything happen to us? It doesn’t make any logical sense!”

“Since when did logic come into question when dealing with ghosts?” She quizzed dramatically.

I sighed; it was hopeless arguing with her. But in truth, I didn’t truly believe what was coming out of my mouth, in reality, I just wanted a reason to get out of there, something felt… off, wrong, and I didn’t like it. I was getting that same sickly feeling in my stomach that came around every time just before a situation took a turn for the worse. I needed to stick this out though, something told me it was important to be there, maybe it was the same sense that was also screaming at me to get the hell out of there, not that that makes any sense at all…

Nothing happened for a good few hours; we sat in silence for the most part, with visibility at an all-time low. While the wait for something to occur had helped ease the uneasy stomach churning I was feeling, it had done nothing for my bladder, and I needed to relieve myself. So I left the room, leaving Jane to monitor the downstairs by herself while I proceeded upstairs to the bathroom. You would imagine after my previous experience with bathrooms, I was quite weary about entering one again, but the boredom that had set in after so many hours, and the fact it was a pleasant looking room made me drop my guard.

I did what I had to and went to wash my hands when Jane called out to me.

“Tim! Get down here, now!”

I rushed down to her, panicking due to the urgency and tension in her voice. I found her staring wide eyed out of the window.

“What is it? What did you see?”

“There was someone out there, Tim.”

“What?”

“It was like he was swinging from something, I only caught a glimpse of him, but he was white, and most definitely not alive.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Right, I left my stuff in the bathroom, I’ll go grab it and we need to look on the roof… or in the attic.”

“Okay, be quick.” She squeezed my arm gently, genuinely fearful.

I rushed upstairs and quickly washed my hands before picking up my torch and the extra set of batteries I had packed as insurance. I looked up at the mirror and gazed at my reflection. There was something odd about it. Something strangely familiar to this scene… I don’t know what it was but something was wrong with my reflection. The longer I stared, the more it began to concern me. Then my heart dropped and my throat constricted. My reflection was a pale as a ghost; my hair was falling out, my eye sockets retracting. 

As I stepped away from the mirror, the image got closer until it was pressed against the glass. This wasn’t me. I was fine, I was being idiotic, I wasn’t looking at myself… I was looking at a corpse, and I knew whose corpse it was. I was looking at the body of David Blake… but how was this possible? I ran to the doorway and called Jane to come to the bathroom, but when she got there the image had disappeared. I told her what I saw, and the look of concern grew on her face.

“Tim, I don’t like this, this isn’t like anything we’ve dealt with before…”

“No, I know, it’s…”

Then it clicked. This was like something we’d dealt with before! The mirror!

“It’s a hollow mirror; it has to be… help me get it off the wall, Jane.”

“What?” she looked at me bewildered.

“Help me take the mirror off of the wall.”

We did exactly that, and sure enough, there was a large hole hidden behind just big enough to fit a body… only there was no body. Just an arrow, pointing upwards, painted in what appeared to be blood. The attic was the next logical step; someone was practically leading us to it. The scene that met us up there was not something we anticipated however.

The body I had seen through the mirror, and presumably the one Jane saw swinging just outside of the window was hanging by its hands in the far corner of the room. On the floor was a variety of symbols, painted, once again, in blood. The smell was the first thing that hit us however, the stench of death was in that attic, and it was almost as haunting as the lifeless corpse that was hung so crudely in the corner like a pig that had been slaughtered. I realised in that moment that is what we are… just meat. The symbols on the floor made no sense to me, the largest was reminiscent of a pentagram, but far more complex, at three distinct points however were three symbols I could understand: ‘P’, ‘A’ and ‘S’. It wasn’t until after we had called the police to take over that I realised the significance of those letters, fortunately Jane wasn’t quite as slow as I was.

“You realise who was behind this don’t you?” I nodded, but she felt the need to speak the name out loud anyway, “Prima Aetus Subortus.”

“Yes, thank you, Jane, I got that,” I couldn’t help but scowl, “what I want to know is how the body still looks so fresh after all this time.”

“Well, I spoke to one of the medical team, apparently it was preserved in basically the same way cadavers are preserved in universities for testing.”

“Someone went to a lot of effort to set this up, didn’t they?” I thought out loud.

“Sound like someone else we know?”

“We need to find out where that body was donated, if we can track where it went, maybe we can find out who is behind this!”

It took nearly a year, but we finally had our first lead on the person in video, and yet, I didn’t feel any sense of accomplishment, only one of dread, it seemed the closer I got to finding out the truth; the less I wanted to hear it. We were questioned for a while after that, we were in quite a bit of trouble for snooping around on someone else’s property, even if the owner had permitted it, apparently it’s an odd request for someone to make.

“Excuse me, were you the officer who answered the call when Mrs. Blake first called out about this?” I asked the officer who seemed to be in charge.

“I am.”

“Well then, I sincerely hope you are going to apologise.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Andrea Blake has been traumatised, and you and your fellow officers did nothing to help, not the slightest thing to even put her mind at ease, so I think, although it is just my opinion that you owe her a pretty damn, good apology!”

I spent the rest of that night in a jail cell. Which gave me plenty of time to reflect… I was haunted by the deathly face of  David Blake, and whoever went to such lengths to preserve him, for whatever reason, or even just to get to me, I had to find them, because they had subjected me to a sleepless night in jail at the least, and much, much worse at the most.

(End of Part 1)

Moving On

“This isn’t working out, is it?”

Those were his first last words to me. They aren’t as poignant, memorable, or as philosophical as the kind you see in movies or romantic novels; they still stung though. He was right. I was just wishing he was wrong, but I knew, we both did, that what we were doing simply wasn’t working.

“We had a good run, but I think you know, just as much as I do, that we can’t carry on like this.”

I needed to say something- something to break away from this uncomfortable clichéd breakup before we got caught up in the whirlwind of emotion that threatened to overwhelm us both.

“Before you say anything else,” I said, “I just want to tell you-“

I stumbled, of course I did, how could I not? Words don’t come easily for me at the best of times, but when they matter, really matter, well then it’s a miracle I don’t choke on my own saliva.

“I want to tell you-“ I croaked, “that this, what we have- had- what we had, may not have been perfect, we may not be destined to be together- not that I believe in that kind of thing- but I’m going to be forever grateful that it did- happen , I mean.”

He brushed the hair from my eyes and kissed me lightly on the forehead. He always did that whenever I stumbled nervously over my words. Then it was his turn to speak.

“I feel the same way, I am so lucky to have found you when I did, I never told you how I was feeling the day we met, did I?”

“No.”

“It would have been the worst day of my life had you not shown up.”

“Why?”

He sighed and looked down at the cold pavement beneath our feet. I could see his breath in the air as the cold breeze swept it away from me. His ears were red, his cheeks redder, and his lips were starting to become chapped and dry.

“My ex had been in contact with me that morning, the only person I was ever close to before you, she explained in detail how much she hated me, how much she loathed me, she told me that I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to maintain a relationship, how I was vindictive and spiteful, how I pushed her away, all because I was afraid of getting too close to someone, to letting another person be so close to me that they could see who I was inside. When I got home, my mother echoed her every word, as she had done ever since we broke up. It was that day I left home, and it was that day I lost faith in relationships, in companionship.”

He placed his hand on my cheek and looked me in the eye.

“Then you came along and restored it, almost instantly,” he smiled warmly and I wanted to hold him again, even though I knew I couldn’t, “still… I suppose she was right, we are breaking up after all, just the idea of a relationship… it scares me more than you know, but if anyone could make me believe it could work for me, it is you.”

I could see his concern was genuine, and I knew that whatever that girl had said to him had knocked his confidence, not just a little, but enough to shatter it… and I hadn’t even noticed, I had been so preoccupied with my own insecurities that I had failed to acknowledge his. I needed to address his fear, if I could help take some of it away, even a little; I needed to do that, for his sake.

“If there was ever a spiteful or vindictive side to you, it is gone now, I have never seen it, I don’t ever think I will, because you are a kind, generous, giving person, and if that is what she saw in you, then she is either delusional, or she was simply projecting her own insecurities onto you, do not dwell on what she has said anymore, because you can take my word that it is all lies.” His eyes became wet; I could see he was struggling to keep his cool. “You will find someone who will make it work, you may not believe it at first, but when she comes along, you will know, I’m just sorry that person couldn’t be me.”

“I don’t believe anyone could compete with you, if I ever had any chance at a genuine, happy relationship, you were it.”

I struggled to believe that. For two reasons, first, he was beyond extraordinary, he could easily have had any girl he wished, he was good looking, funny, kind, and easily the best person all round I have ever met, and second, I was almost definitely the opposite, introverted, shy, and inherently awkward.

“If you don’t think you can do any better than me, you must have the oddest standards I’ve ever known.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at me!”

I took a step back and allowed him to bask in the incomparable lack of glory that was me.

“Am I meant to be seeing a fault?” he asked, genuinely bemused.

“Are you serious? Do you know the reason I’ve never been able to commit to a relationship, a serious one at least?”

“No, tell me.”

“I don’t believe I deserve one. Whenever I find a man who genuinely seems to care for me, who treats me well, and wants to look after me, I begin to wonder where it will all go wrong, where I will slip up and ruin everything, and I run away before that can happen, even though I know I’m going to be miserable and lonely, I do it every time, because the fear is greater than my happiness. The longest relationship I’ve ever had is with you, and it’s given me hope that one day I will actually be able to commit to someone the way I commit- committed to you.”

It dawned on me at that moment just how final that was. It was over, the end of a relationship, the end of an era, the end of my life as I knew it then. I didn’t feel sadness though, I had for a very short period, but then it ended abruptly, and all I felt was a kind of relief, a freedom, not just from the restraints of a commitment, I felt I had grown, I now had a new perspective on people and relationships and life… for the first time I had hope that I could be happy. Then he spoke once more.

“You deserve every happiness life can give you.”

“You deserve more.” I chuckled, a single tear escaping from my eye.

We embraced for the final time, and I held onto him tight, knowing that it would most likely be the last time. I can still recall the warmth of our bodies together; the feel of his arms wrapped around me, and mine around him. It’s a moment I wouldn’t change for anything.

“Thank you for making me happy again, genuinely, thank you so much.”

Then we parted. I suppose you are wondering why I am writing this now, why I’m reflecting on this so many years afterwards. I don’t think I realised at that moment just how significant that point in my life was, or just how pretentious and stupid we were, I felt like it was everything back then, now I know it wasn’t, it wasn’t everything, but it was certainly something. Too little value is placed on ‘somethings’, because that one ‘something’ changed my life for the better, and led me to where I am now: a husband, three children, a house, two cars, a part time job and most importantly… happiness.

And I’m certain that he is happy too, wherever he is, maybe we’ll meet again one day, I sincerely hope we do.

Glyph. (Part 5)

Isaac swallowed the lump that was building in his throat. He was concerned that he was visibly shaking, although it was hard to tell as his heart was beating so violently that he could feel it in his head, and in his toes.

He was standing in the library where they had first met. The very same spot. Isaac felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, but he didn’t want to move, any form of movement would only make his stomach churn more violently. The small droplet moved from his forehead and tickled down the side of nose and across his lips which were sealed tightly. It was 3:30… He should be here by now, why isn’t he here? What if he found out somehow? He could have done that, he could have found out, who knows what information he has access to?

He focused on his breathing, in, and out, in, and out. Why is it such a struggle, just to breathe? The ticking of the clock was louder than before, and the library was practically abandoned, it was silent, and desolate, and Isaac has never felt more vulnerable. Then he heard a door open.

Scorch stepped into view, smiling coldly, his eye patch strapped firmly across his good, unmarked eye.

“Isaac, how nice it was to hear from you, I’m so glad you changed your mind.”

Isaac breathed a sigh of relief, perhaps too obviously, but Scorch’s demeanour didn’t alter so Isaac felt reassured that, at least for the moment, he did not suspect anything.

“I knew hearing a few home truths would change your mind.” He smiled once more, almost viciously.

“It’s no surprise that the government is corrupt, I just never knew the extent of it, it’s not something I feel can be tolerated anymore.” Scorch sat down at a nearby table, and he motioned for Isaac to join him. He rested his elbows on the wood and clasped his hands tightly together.

“Isaac, there are lots of things that you don’t know, but I plan to bring you up to speed on all of them, then you will see the true nature of these disgusting liars that govern this country. Unfortunately that means you won’t be able to enjoy the regular announcements I’m giving, I’m not a fan of spoilers, but I feel I can make an exception in this case. Are you ready?”

Isaac glanced out of the window briefly, hoping he would see the soldiers closing in on the building, but he knew it was too soon, they wanted him to extract as much information as he could before they captured him.

 

“I am.”

“Good… where to begin? It may interest you to know that there are a great number of secret organisations that are hidden from the public eye, you will have heard of MI5, MI6 and so on yes? All of them are simply decoys, red herrings, to mask the true organisations running behind them. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of an organisation by the name of G.L.Y.P.H.?”

Isaac shook his head, although he suspected he had been in their headquarters, spoken to their members, and gone along with their plan.

“It’s an acronym of course, any idea what it might stand for?”

Again, Isaac shook his head.

“General Liquidation of Youth with Propensity to Harm, or in other words… people such as us. They don’t like the power we possess, Isaac, and they will do anything to rid us of it.”

Isaac was growing increasingly uncomfortable, he knew that G.L.Y.P.H. had wanted him dead, but to have it confirmed, and in such a cold, calculating way, it made things infinitely worse. How did I get myself into this mess?

“The women in charge… She goes by the letter ‘P’-“

Where is he getting all this from? If he knows all of this, does he know why I’m here? Is he just toying with me?

“-She is a terrible human being Isaac, she has committed mass murder in the name of her family, in the name of her organisation, and she must be stopped.”

“What exactly has this organisation done that is so bad?”

Scorched barely blinked before answering:

“I’ve seen all of their records, they’ve experimented on humans Isaac, many of these tests could easily be considered torture, and most of them resulted in death, those who survived have been imprisoned, treated like animals, after all… they are merely failed experiments. Aside from that? They’ve purged hundreds of people in this city alone, merely for owning one of these!”

He pointed towards his uncovered eye, the one marked with a prominent glyph.

“And that is only one organisation; there are dozens out there, taking citizen’s money and using it to commit atrocities, all in the name of advancement.”

“Advancement?”

“Of the human race, everyone out there is afraid Isaac, afraid of the unknown, and all of these people are looking for a way to get the upper hand, to be ready for whatever comes, whatever the cost.”

“And what would you differently?”

Scorch blinked. His marked eye studying Isaac closely- suspiciously.

“You are scared, aren’t you Isaac? What are you afraid of… is it me?”

“You’re still wearing your eye patch… you don’t trust me.” Isaac did his best to control his breathing as his mouth became void of saliva.

“I wouldn’t take that personally, I don’t trust anyone.”

“It’s hard for me to believe what you are saying when there is no trust between us.”

Isaac lied, in truth, everything he had told him he had swallowed, he couldn’t help it, there was something about the way he spoke- he was so blunt and utterly convincing- it was difficult not to process every word he was saying. He glanced once more at the clock, and then at the window. Scorch smiled once again.

“You’ve seen into my mind Isaac, why don’t you tell me what I would do differently?”

“I was only present for a few seconds, I did not see everything; I didn’t have time.”

Scorch’s smile only grew wider.

“You saw enough though, didn’t you? You saw enough that you felt the need to run and tell on me, to run to ‘P’?”

His heart stopped, his eyes glazed over. He knows! Of course he knows!

Isaac didn’t know what to say, what to do- what could he do? There was nothing, Scorch was immune to his power; he was infinitely more clever than him, and as bloodthirsty as it was humanly possible to be. He was outmatched in every way, there was nothing he could do but allow Scorch to unfold his plan. No! They’ll be here! They’ll take him into custody! They will have heard what he said, and they will be coming! They have to! Not that repeating the thought convinced him any differently.

“Just so you are aware, even if I didn’t know where your loyalties lay beforehand, I would have been able to tell within a few seconds of conversation with you, never try to deceive me Isaac, you will fail, you may be able to see into people’s minds, but I can deduce how someone is feeling, and what they are thinking, merely by observing the tiniest contours of their face.”

“Fine, so now you’ve found me out… tell me why.”

“Why? Why am I doing all this?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever looked back at the history of the world? Have you ever just taken a look at the state of the world? Throughout the entire history of the human race, there has been an endless amount of oppression, genocide, destruction of entire peoples and places… I aim to solve that. I will follow the guidelines set by previous dictators, only I won’t make their foolish mistakes. The most beneficial scenario for everyone is the destruction of the world as we know it, and a new one to rise, with me as the leader. I become the most powerful man on the planet, and we find peace in a reign of fear where everyone is so afraid, they dare not step a foot out of line. The world I will create will be one of perpetual peace, there will be no discrimination, no prejudice, no war, no hate crimes, why? Because everyone will be the same- they’ll be beneath me.”

“And you think people will stand for that?”

“It is human nature to seek out conflict, out there, they are already preparing themselves to rip each other to pieces, and all it took was a few words from me to provoke them, what does that say about society? What does that say about humanity? Subjugation is by far, the easiest option; I am doing you all a favour, and helping myself in the process.”

“You are wrong, you are basing your argument purely on figures, if you went out there and saw the world, saw the good that can be found in humanity you would not be so certain! You would build your throne on the corpses of the innocent; I can see you won’t change your mind… I can only promise to stop you.”

Scorch smiled, “I look forward to seeing you try.”

Isaac looked out the window for the final time.

“You won’t have to wait for very long.”

Scorch stood up and strolled carelessly to the window.

“Ah, Three squadrons, approaching from the east, west and south, one air team inbound, soon to land on the roof of the building, most carrying assault rifles, ACR, SCAR-H, typical AK47 with some modifications, also heavy weaponry, several grenade launchers, M32, seems a little excessive if I’m honest. Oh, and air team landing in 3, 2, 1…”

There was a loud crash on the roof, then silence.

“Hmmm… they may have had an accident with their parachutes,” he turned to Isaac, “they can be so careless when they pack those things.”

Almost simultaneously, there were several loud explosions outside, balls of fire erupted into the air, scorching the trees and surrounding buildings. Isaac could hear the sound of screaming, but he didn’t dare to look outside. Instead Isaac addressed Scorch; he was powerless to do anything else.

“I don’t understand… how?”

“Landmines, I prepare for any potential scenario,” he smiled malevolently, “and now, I believe, if I remember correctly, I warned you against trying to stop me. I don’t want to kill you Isaac, you are potentially a great asset, but if you choose to resist me I have no other choice.”

Before Isaac could register the threat, the sound of a gun clicking sounded at the back of Scorch’s head. A group of masked men with guns had formed behind him, led by P.

“Mr. Scorch, I believe?” Stated P as coolly as ever, “we’d like you to come with us.”

“Just Scorch is fine…”

“Very well,” she snapped the handcuffs onto his wrists, “Scorch.”

She turned to Isaac, and observed him with the same calculating, unfeeling stare she always wore.

“Good work, you did well under pressure.” Despite the praising comment, there was no tone of gratitude to be found anywhere in her voice.

“What about all those men out there? What about all the people he just killed?”

“They knew what they were signing up for- now- we need to get back; we have some questions for this one.”

“Aren’t you going to read me my rights, P?” Scorched asked, jokingly.

“You have no rights you son of a bitch.” With that they began to drag him away. Before they got to the door however, they ripped his eye patch away from his face, and Isaac couldn’t resist the temptation. He entered Scorch’s mind, with one question burning inside him, why didn’t you resist? To his surprise, Scorch answered:

“One thing you will learn, Isaac, is that everything that happens, even if it seems to be going against me in the worst possible way, will be exactly what I want to happen, there is nothing you can do, no trick, no deception, no angle you can take that I will not have considered a thousand times beforehand and planned ahead, I will always be ahead of you, every step of the way, if I want to be caught, I will be caught, if I want to go free, I will go free, and if I want to kill you, or anyone else, it will happen, it’s only a matter of time, and how I decide to approach it.”

Isaac could not bear being in his mind for one second longer, the anger, the fire, the hate… all of it, was too much. When he returned to his own mind Scorch was no longer in sight, but he shouted one last thing before they pulled him out of the building.

“Remember, Isaac, once they are done with me, you are next in the firing line!”

He knew that this was far from over, and he knew there would be blood before the end.