ã€ŠRevival Factory &amp; Other Novellasã€‹


 Revival Factory (Ch.1)

    The butcher woke up at four in the morning when he heard chickens making noise from where he had kept them.

    I put them there for more than a day.He realized when he sawthe entirecase of beer empty. His wife had already removed thosebottles, butit seemed like she was not bothered by the noise of animals.

    He went to the farm with hangover all over his body. Even his sweat smelled of alcohol. The chickens were flying all around the farm. One of them almost scratched the butcher from its claw. Water was all dirty in there and there was not evena singlegrain of fodder.

    "Relax you chicken shits, you won''t taste good if you panic like this I tear you apart." He yawned.

    He put his hand in his pocket when he realized somethingterrible. He had enteredthe farm without the keys. Butcher walked past the panicked chicken, "Fuck off thief."

    "Sshhhh¡­" a childish voice came, "You are scaring them."

    He saw his son stroking a rooster''s back.

    "What the hell are you doing hereat this time?" he asked.

    "I had named this rooster. I was here to say goodbye to him." Kid said.

    "Bring me my apron. And the knife." Butcher picked the key from the kid''s hand and opened the slaughter room.

    Soon the child brought the apron and a knife.

    "Not this, bring the other one. This is too big." Butcher said while he cleaned the room.

    "There was just this one." Child said.

    Butcher took itregardless,thenhe brought some chickens with him.

    The kid was about to leave when his father called him back, "Hey, take your rooster with you."

    The boy jumped in joy, clutched the rooster and ran.

    While he laughed, he heard screams of slaughtered creatures. Inside the room, the boy opened a box and took out his dad''s knife.

    _

    Days passed, andthe rooster made noise every morning till it disappeared suddenly one day.

    The same day butcher''s son came with dirty clothes.

    He told his father to make a catapult. To make his kid silent, he madeit,but he never had thoughthis first target will be on window glass.

    "Go to the trees." He told his son when he broke the second glass.

    "I don¡¯t want to. There''s a cemetery nearby the trees." He said.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation."How old are you?"

    "Eight."

    "Ghosts don¡¯t scare children of eight. Now go." He sent him off by saying so.

    What if I turn nine next year?He walked away with the thought.

    He climbed a tree to see the window he had broken. With all the difficulty, heclimbedhalf of the small tree. He could see the window broken.

    He fired his catapult towardsit,but the stone didn¡¯t even get close to the house.Instead,he heard some birds chirping. There he saw two baby birds and an egg yet to be hatched. When he lookedback,then he got scared because he saw the cemetery.

    The kid climbed down and waited for the mother bird to come. Later a bird came, fed the babies and sat on the egg. He tried to shoot the bird withthe catapultbut she flew.

    The next day, he climbed on another tree and waited for the mother bird to come again. But this time the wait was very long.

    When she came, he got her with his catapult. He climbed down and picked up the injured bird. She attempted tofly, buthe did not let it do so. He broke one wing and went to the slaughter chamber.

    He brought his dad''s knife with him andtorethe bird till she was dead.

    In the night he woke upall of a suddenfor no reason. He saw a man standinginfrontof him. It had wings.

    "You did a mistake." The mysterious man said, "I was here for a purpose and you killed me."

    When the kid stared at hiswristwatch,then saw the time 27O''clock.

    "I am sorry." The kid muttered and stirred his mother hard. But she didn¡¯t wake up.

    "I couldn¡¯t feed my babies. They died." The monster said.

    "I am eight." He cried.

    "Yet you killed me."

    "Please forgive me." Kid cried.

    "I have forgiven you already kid. But I can''t leaveyouunpunished. You interfered in my task."

    After it, the boy fell asleep. The sleep was very long. He didn¡¯t even dream anything. He didn¡¯t even realize he was asleep until he feltsome discomfort around him.

    He felt like he was wrapped around something.

    The kid struggled and got out of it. He saw his father and mother along with some people in the cemetery. All of them were crying as the coffin was being lowered down.

    He saw the window which he had broken.

    It took him time to realize where he was. He was in the nest with some dead bird babies.

    He now had a beak, wings and had fur. The kid chirped till the funeral was over.

 Revival Factory (Ch.2)

    Boone had been putting posters of his son, whom he presumed was missing, for some days. He believed his son- Ian, was dead till the day he dug the grave of his son.

    There he could only seean emptycoffin.

    The reason alone was enough to keep on printing the posters. He had printed slabs of posters from a local publication named PaperWork Publications. Even though he knew his wife was well aware of this and didn¡¯t support it at all, he wasn¡¯t finished printing more copies.

    Despite of all his efforts, there was no progress. He had hung posters everywhere just to realize they were gone next day.

    When the same thing happened three times in arow,then he believed he had had enough. Whether a street cleaner was doing it or it was a random stranger, he was going to have a go at him. Boone had enough strength to do so.

    In the dawn, he set off to find the person who hadan obsessionwith posters. To hissurprise,he found athinwomanin blue robe gathering those posters. She was wearing a classical mask which made her look like something straight out from medieval age party.

    "Hey!" Boone yelled at her, " What''s the point in doing all this?"

    "You are making people panic, Boone." She said.

    "How would this poster panic? Missing child is not something to panic about."

    "I hear your son died."

    "Who has been filling your ears with lies, lady?"

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere."Didn¡¯t people here attend his funeral?"

    "They didn¡¯t attend what happened afterwards."

    "Boone, it is not why they are getting scared. Watch this." Woman showed him the poster.

    The poster now had a face of someone wearing plague doctor mask. Boonecould nottell if it was an actual face or a mask.

    "What is this?" Boone was shaken.

    "Someone called Crowman. And do you want to know who took off the posters you had put and replaced withthese?"

    "Who?"

    "Your wife." Woman smirked.

    "Listen to me, you stupid woman, don¡¯t fuck around with me."

    "I am here to make things easier for you."

    "How?" Boone walked closer to her to intimidate.

    "Your son is dead. Get over it. A Satan named Grief killed him. And the same Grief will kill your wife."

    "I should have noticed you are a crazy woman just by looking at your clothes." Boonegrindedhis teeth.

    "Your wife is crazy that she made her association with Crowman a public thing. Don¡¯t you know devils and Satans walk from this street every night?"

    But Boone had already hadbegan to walk away.

    "Don¡¯t believe me? Fine." Woman yelled, "But don¡¯t leave your house this evening no matter what. If youleave,she will die."

    "Piss off, woman."

    She will dietonight,even if you don¡¯t leave your house this evening.Woman talked to herself and moved towards more posters.

    One by one, she tore off Crowman''s pictures.

 Revival Factory (Ch.3)

    Evening,

    "Can you explain me this?" Boone showed Stacy theCrowmanposter, "Tell me you haven¡¯t been printing these."

    "At least I was doing something whichmakes sense." She answered.

    "A man witha crowhead makes sense?"

    "With a dead son, it does."

    "He is MISSING. How many times do I have to tell you this?" Boone roared.

    The rotary phone on their tablerang. It was something which brought an abrupt halt to their argument. Stacy''s quietness made him realize who shouldpickup the call.

    Boone almost pulled the wire of the phone while putting on his ear, "Who is this?" he didn¡¯t hide how he was feeling.

    "Boone. I have found your son." The caller said.

    "Let me hear his voice then." Boone spoke, making sure Stacy would not hear it.

    "I am here, father." The voice came.

    It was spot on.

    Ian.¡­he gasped, "Where are you?"

    The caller''s voice came thereafter, "You remember the woman''s house which hasa bluedoor?"

    "Yes,I do."

    "I am here with Ian." Then he hung the call, "Come and take him."

    Boone dropped the receiver.

    "What happened?" Stacy broke her silence.

    "I am right." He said andput on shoes.

    "Where are you going now?" Stacy yelled at him.

    "Towards something which makes sense." He said then ran towards the road where he hired a cab and rode to the city.

    The cab ride was the most anxious time of his life. Duringthe entireride, he was watching himself behave in the most abnormal wayinthe mirror. He had no shameinbeing awkward right now.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.The cabbie put on brakes after a while.

    "Don¡¯t stop. Keep going." He barked at the driver.

    "A passenger." Cabbie looked back.

    "I don¡¯t want to share this cab with anyone. Tell that guy to shit somewhere else."

    "You can get in, madam." Driver said.

    Madam?

    Before he could comprehend the happening, the same woman inthe bluecloak opened the door and sat beside him.

    "I knew you would not obey what I had told you." She said.

    "Get off this car!"

    But the woman clapped. Engine stopped burning, andhe felt himself stationary. In place of the tiny mirror, there was his wife''s oval mirrorinfrontof him.

    He was now on his couchall of a sudden. Boone felt scare bubbling upwards from his stomach acid. His mind had turned blank and his ears were ringing. Boone puked on his shoes when he saw himself reddenedonthe mirror.

    "Stacy!" he screamed, with vomit still running down his lips.

    He rushed down inhorror,only to see her dead.

    The woman was right.

    Once again there was sorrow in his home. Beside Ian''s coffin, Stacy was buried while a big crowd gathered to see poor Boone lose another member of his family.

    The night was hard for him. But it wasnot hardenough to take away his sleep. No matter how bad his days went, he always had foundways to findhimself in REM stage. Perhaps he went into another stage ofthe dreamthis time because he saw a clock with the weirdest number he had ever seen.

    27''O''clock.

    "Does this time amuse you?" a voice came.

    Boone flinched and turned around.

    Crowmanwas there.

 Revival Factory (Ch.4)

    Crowman was there. But unlike to the poster, he hada redbeak.

    "Crowman?" Boone''s lips spilled out words.

    Boone woke up. Now the clock had given up on showing something out ofthe dreamworld.

    Boone turned his head on pillow. There he saw Crowman''s poster on the table. But this time it did not have his face on it.

    If the face had notdisappeared,then he would have taken it as anightmarebut with the missing picture, his day was turning into a bad dreamas well.

    Panting, Boone stuffed the poster in his pocket and ran to the street. He was surprised to see a lot of new faces in the town.

    He waved at the runningcabs,but none of them stopped for him. Perhaps a dollar bill early inthe morningwassomewhatinferior to coffee.

    There was no other option for him than to walk and see faces which he had never seen before. It was when one thing hit him.

    He was yet to see someone whom he knew.

    "You were right." Boone spoke to the woman when he found her on the same spot, "My wife is dead."

    The woman removed her mask this time.

    "Crowman killed her." Woman said.

    "Why?" Boone was devastated.

    "Greed took her."

    "Greed of what?"

    "Greed for reviving Ian."

    "He is not dead!" he yelled at her.

    "Or he is?"

    "You know?" Boone narrowed his eyebrows.

    "Maybe I do. But I don¡¯t think it should be of your concern anymore because you are also dead."

    "If this is your another attempt to freak me out. Then fuck you!"

    "Boone, those people whom you are seeing today. Have you ever seen them before? I know you have not because they are souls of people who lived here. And youwill not be able tosee anyone you knew when you were alive."

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.Oh my God!Boone recalled while she continued, "Didn¡¯t you wonder why you had to come here by feet? It is because no driver can see you. Not just your wife. Crowman killed you too."

    No words came out from his mouth for a while, "How can I see you if I can''t see anyone whom I knew when I was alive?"

    "Do you know me? Had you ever seen me without my mask when I was alive?" she grinned.

    "I don¡¯t understand." Boone mumbled.

    "You will need this." Woman took out a small paper from her cloak and gave it to him.

    Boone read:

    RULES FOR THE DECEASED

    1) A soul can''t see anyone whom he knew when he was alive.

    2) If a soul isthe productof suicide then that soulwill not be able tosee or contact any other soul. Neither other souls willbe able tosee him.

    3) If a soul is killed byreaper''s axe then the soul will be erased from existence. Such punishment is reserved for unforgivable crimes like:

    -Unauthorized killing of a human.

    -Trying to contact someone whom the soul knew when he was alive.

    -Trying to contact Crowman or anyone associated with him.

    Under the rules, there were some names of the ghosts which were erased.

    "You can keep it." She said and vanished, leaving her mask on the ground.

    Boone had little to no idea what the paper could serve him in the state of disbelief. It did not help him other than finding out those who had died recently like him.

    Ghosts with the rule paper in their hands were as unaware as him. Everyone had equal concern and disbelief in theirfaces,which made Boone feel alittlecomfortable losinghis life.

 Revival Factory (Ch.5)

    His first day as a ghost made him know that he was not gettingthe sensationof hunger, thirst and exhaustion. But death was notthe solutionof not meeting stupid individuals.

    Strolling for more hours took him to a bunch of ghostsinmedievaldresses with pointy shoes, pointier thanCrowman''s beak. Those people seemed to be interested to hear what the yelling man had to say in his British accent.

    Those who did not find his speech appealing were busy playing a ball bat game where they rolled their arms to pitch the ball. Boone was not interested in their sport.Instead,he began moving towards the bunch of medieval ghosts.

    "You would not like to hear what they are saying." A ghost caught his shoulder.

    For his relief, he was not one of thosemiddle-agedfreaks.

    "Plague got them." The ghost spoke again, "And I don¡¯t understand their sport either."

    "Who are you?" Boone questioned.

    "Fredrick."

    "What are they yelling about?"

    "Apparently earth is not round for them." Fredscoffed,but Boone was in no state to find humor in anything.

    Forhim,it was hard to laugh and easy to get annoyed by anything.

    "Come, you willenjoybeing with Ivanov and Langer." Fred invited him to his clan.

    Boone felt it was wise to follow him.

    After a short walk, Fredrick paused.

    "Are they here?" Boone had question.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it."Is that pigeon following me or you?" Fredrick pointed at a pigeon looking at them from a tree.

    "She is drawing sketches of me!" Langer laughed.

    "Mine is funnier. She sleeps with a cross under herpillow,thinking it would work." Ivanov said.

    "You should stop scaring her. It won''t take her longer to see a priest."

    "Won''t scare me a bit if it happens."

    "Souls like you are the reasonExorcists are still a thing." Fredrick opened the door, "You souls can''t leave without scaring a human.ThereforeI brought a soul who,himself, is scared. Meet Boone."

    "Good to see you guys." Boone forced a smile on his face.

    "Great! You brought a new soul." Ivanov jumped in delight, "He will be of great help."

    "Help? I am not here to help anyone." Boone interrupted.

    "Then what will you do for next millions and millions of years? Haunt humans?"

    "Can I get in contact of humans?"

    "Now do you understand why we are here to helpeach other?" Langer spoke.

    "Listen," Fredrick said, "We miss our families, don¡¯t we? But we can''t see them. So what do we do? We makea groupof trusted souls, like us. And one of us looks at what is happening with our families and report it to us."

    "And scare them!" Ivanov snarled.

    "Not mandatory though." Fredrick smirked, "Boone, I will tell you where my wife lives.Go and seewhat she is doing. Come back here and tell it to me."

    "Where does she live?"

    "Portland."

 Revival Factory (Ch.6)

    Portland,

    He never had thought travelling from place to place was going to be of this ease. What made him uncomfortable was how Fredrick''s wife looked like. She was an old woman perhaps in her eighties.

    How can she be his wife? He questioned himself because Fredrick looked to be a middle aged man.

    The medieval men served him as a reminder that every ghost seemed to be of mid age. He watched the old woman''s activities for the whole day. Her activities were no different than any other woman of her age.

    She spent half of her day knitting wool even though it was summer. Her grandchildren and sons were the ones who pushed the wheel chair and took her to the church where she spent her time till evening. When she was pushed back from church then she did not get back to her regular knitting business.

    She instead chose pen and paper this time.

    FREDRICK. She scribbled with her wrinkled hands which trembled with each alphabet. The woman slipped it in the envelope, glued it with difficulty and watched around before she wrote on envelope ¨C TO REVIVAL FACTORY.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.Old woman called the youngest child in their house and told him to drop it in the mailbox without letting anyone know about it.

    "Shoo! Shoo!" She waved her trembling arms at the window where a pigeon was pecking the glass.

    Boone disappeared from there.

    He had not thought Fredrick would be looking for his way with this intensity of seriousness.

    "How is she?" Fredrick jumped towards him.

    "She misses you." Muttered Boone, not mentioning the letter to Revival Factory.

    He went on to tell Fredrick how his days passed. Praying and knitting.

    "She had started to sense Ivanov and Langer." Fredrick pointed at them, "I think no soul can keep on tracking anyone without letting them know about our watchful eyes."

    "You want us to return the favor?" Langer approached.

    My wife was killed by Crowman. Letting these guys contact someone killed by Crowman can get them in trouble.

    "No." Boone had the answer even though he knew he could get information about his wife, who perhaps was there, invisible to him.

    The next day, Fredrick disappeared.

 Revival Factory (Ch.7)

    The next day, Fredrick disappeared. Rumors began to spread that he was killed from the reaper''s axe for breaching a law. And everyone knew what could lead to this punishment. Involvement with Crowman.

    While Ivanov and Langer had been convinced Fredrick had broken a law, Boone was refusing to believe it. It was hard to believe after seeing the happenings of last day.

    His wife had sent letter to Revival Factory. Maybe Fredrick is not erased but revived instead. He had thoughts which he could not take lightly.

    The woman in blue seemed to have huge concern over this issue. She even went on to interrogate Ivanov and Langer but they knew nothing. Boone was not interrogated at all.

    After the interrogation, both of them returned to their shelter where Boone was sitting all alone.

    "Boone, you may also get in trouble for having known Fredrick." Ivanov made things clear, "It will be wise of you if you don¡¯t have any connections with us as well. Grief has leant methods of torture straight from Hades. Very unpleasant."

    "I understand. But can I do something for you before we part ways?"

    "Let us know what our families are doing." Langer requested.

    Not letting them down, Boone went to straight to Ivanov''s home.

    He was a Bulgarian. And as he had expected, things were different in his family. Even though Boone was not able to understand them, he got to know Iavnov had died about five years ago and things had calmed down.

    He heard nobody say Ivanov''s name. He was not sure if it was because he couldn¡¯t catch their language or they, in fact, had gotten over his death.

    Boone got to know Ivanov was almost of his age and was a deceased father. Things were different till he witnessed something similar between Fredrick and his case.

    Ivanov''s brother was writing something on his desk. Boone did not get to see what he was writing but saw what he needed to see the most.

    TO REVIVAL FACTORY was written on the envelope.

    He did not need to learn Bulgarian to understand what it meant. Boone vanished from there after then went to Langer''s home.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.He got to know ten years had passed after his demise. Things were fine but he did not have any interest in knowing what the family was doing.

    After a short observation to his family, he decided to go inside the mailbox to see what the letters were about. He could not flip the letters but could get in the envelope to see what was written there.

    Till now he had not seen anything related to Revival Factory.

    Boone saw a letter coming down at him. The envelope passed through his invisible body and fell under his feet. Soon he was standing on an envelope which read:

    TO REVIVAL FACTORY.

    When he returned to Ivanov and Langer, he told them everything other than those letters. The three souls went on to have a decent farewell then after.

    For more than three days, Boone walked alone everywhere he went. He had no interest in making any friends. Everywhere he went there were talks of Fredrick disappearing without being punished.

    Talk of the town was something he wanted to stay away from.

    A day came when Fredrick was not the topic of discussion among the souls. Ivanov and Langer had also disappeared. Nobody knew what to make of it but Boone knew what it was.

    After it, he decided to not share anything about Revival Factory to anyone. His three friends had been revived but there was one problem, he could not see them because he had known them. Boone did not want to meet them either because it could bring suspicion on him.

    He pretended to be alienated from everything about those three souls who had disappeared. Without even realizing what he was doing, he took out the rulebook.

    A new rule had appeared there:

    4) All souls must take permission from Woman in Blue if he/she wants to see any human being. Unauthorized visits to living world will get a soul punished.

    The new rule meant nothing for him other than some stupid words written to control their actions. There was no way Boone could be kept tied by a piece of paper.

    I can revive my wife, my son and possibly myself.

 Revival Factory (Ch.8)

    I can revive my wife, my son and possibly myself. He had everything planned out and even the way how he could make someone write letter to Revival Factory, again.

    "I am sorry Ivanov." Boone said before passing through door of his house. He then stayed in the house late till night till it was the time of souls ¨C 27''O Clock.

    Boone felt uneasy while he was spreading his hands around neck of Ivanov''s brother. He wondered if he had enough courage to do it.

    I was a butcher. This is no different than killing a chicken.

    Touching the soft neck, he began tightening the grip till the man''s eyes turned bloodshot and breathing stopped. When it was done, he realized it was not courage what had led him to do it.

    It was brutality instead.

    The same hour, he went to Langer''s home and killed one of his family members. One of those families was bound to write to Revival Factory.

    Even though he was taking violent route, he couldn¡¯t push himself to unleash misery to Fredrick''s family. Making the old woman endure more misery was not something he considered courage.

    A day returning to the world of souls, he heard the news of two innocents being murdered. It could not get past the Woman in Blue''s eyes because it had happened in 27''O Clock ¨C only time where souls could contact humans.

    The incident added another rule on the paper:

    5) All souls must take permission from Woman in Blue if he/she wants to be in 27''O Clock. Every soul is now being watched and monitored. Consequence of not following this rule will also lead to being erased from existence.

    Boone had not expected he would make lives this hard for souls. Not only he had caused melancholy everywhere but now he also had made it tough for everyone to contact their loved ones by any means. The soul world seemed what it was thought of humans ¨C isolated.

    Though Boone had thought the idea would work, it had passed over three days after the murders, nobody in the victim''s family had written letter to the factory.

    He doubted what being watched meant because he had no hindrance in seeing Langer''s and Ivanov''s families. But he was running out of patience.

    Boone had no idea what he would do if he was caught roaming in the living world without the permission. In the attempt to act fast, Boone took one step further.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.Nobody is posting the letters. I will make them write letter to Revival Factory.

    He went back to Langer''s house but this time he had precautions. Shrinking himself made him able to walk on Langer''s wife''s head and jump inside her ear. Boone got inside her dreams by doing so.

    By getting there he realized how different being in a dream was from dreaming while asleep. The surrealistic environment was like something similar to painting of melting clocks. Surrounding was weird and scary at the same time. He did not know why there were blue strips in the sky.

    Even though there was no sun above him, it was very bright. People in her dream were very similar to aliens due to their disproportionate body size. They just had one thing in common, big heads and pointy chins.

    Almost every man walked with his mouth wide open. Sometimes it was difficult to tell the gender of person walking by him. He was not sure if this was a regular dream or a nightmare.

    Where is she? Boone began to look around while passing the round bridge. It brought him right to the spot where he had started to walk from. Now there was nothing to wonder why those people around him were scared.

    Boone jumped from the bridge and started flying in air in search of her. He began to passing through grey clouds and sky started to turn white despite of it being blue when he had looked at it from the bridge.

    The butcher glided through more of grayish sky only to realize that it had changed its colour. Everything was black and white. The propeller planes from World War I were gray as well as passed out pilots.

    He had no idea where he would be if her dream session ended.

    There came a scary scream as if it was a space noise. Boone looked beside him to see a yelling bison wearing goggles. Propellers were breathing fire and the bison had already ejected himself from the plane.

    He watched the parachute spread its wings above him. As for him, he went down along with the plane.

    The crash did not hurt. Neither did being splattered into pieces.

    She can lucid dream? He wondered. It was when he realized he should stop looking for her. The entire dream was her and was like a bizarre play where even Boone had no choice other than being her puppet.

    Re-growing himself, Boone looked at the industry which was throwing out nymphs from their chimneys. There was something written on the board: Fairy Industries. When Boone glanced at it again then it was something else.

    He thought of giving it a change and wrote: REVIVAL FACTORY.

    Everything paused for a while. Darkness surrounded him.

    Did I just scare her? Is she going to wake up? Fuck! But it was not what she called a nightmare.

 Revival Factory (Ch.9)

    Did I just scare her? Is she going to wake up? Fuck! But it was not what she called a nightmare.

    On the board, he saw a pigeon. The same pigeon which somehow was following him and Fredrick.

    This must be my imagination. I can also rule it. I just re-grew myself from a plane crash. He spoke to himself and shattered the ceramic pigeon into fragments which turned into live pigeons.

    I will wake her up and make her remember this dream.

    His own body began to morph into something else. He had become an envelope with the words on it: REVIVAL FACTORY.

    Surrounding changed another time. This time there was only him.

    She is waking up! I must make her write the letter.

    Boone turned into her family member whom he had killed, "Write the letter or I will kill you." He screamed in darkness.

    It woke her up.

    With his job done, Boone returned to being a casual soul again.

    At least the pigeon did not follow him for this time.

    The first thing the woman did after sunrise was writing the letter to Revival Factory. Then she tried to calm herself down for a while. She did it until she couldn¡¯t. She knew whom she needed to meet in such cases.

    She walked from her house and saw the cross attached on top of church. Scared woman walked past the church.

    _

    Boone nearly knocked the blue door to crash into the room of Woman in Blue, "I had been thinking about this for a while. You are responsible for death of my wife."

    The door slammed back to its place.

    "I told you, it was Crowman." She rose up from her table.

    "You could have saved her. Instead you sent your bitch to kill her!"

    "I had warned her."

    "Did you warn me? Had I ever contacted Crowman?"

    "It was too late for you, Boone." She came at his direction.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.Boon didn¡¯t move an inch.

    "After all," she stared right in his eyes, "I am companion of souls. Why should I do favors to someone who is alive?"

    "What about my son? He was inn-"

    "I haven¡¯t seen him here. You must have taught him to stay away from strangers."

    "What do you mean? I thought he was dead."

    "Weren''t you arguing with me, some days ago, saying he was alive?" she began intimidating him, "How fickle can your belief be? Do you fear being proven wrong? Is this why your beliefs change time to time?"

    "What did my wife do?" words spilled out of his mouth.

    "She believed she could make your grief go. She began talking to wrong people and started doing things which even God prohibits."

    Door swung open again but with less force. The woman whom Boone had scared entered inside the room.

    All of a sudden there was a mask on the woman''s face. It was the same mask which Boone had seen her wearing when he used to stick the posters.

    "I should not have done it." Terrified woman shed tears.

    "So you wrote it?" Woman in Blue walked towards her.

    "I had no choice. A ghost came into my dream, telling me to write it or it will kill me."

    "Nightmares shouldn¡¯t be taken too seriously, dear. It must have been your mind playing with you."

    "I don¡¯t think so. There was a pigeon in my dream with the ghost. When I woke up then I saw the same pigeon sitting on a tree near my house."

    "Don¡¯t get scared." She patted her, "I''ll handle it. You should go home."

    Trembling, she stepped outside the house.

    "She was talking about writing something. What is it?" Boone ran towards Woman in Blue.

    "I can''t tell you much about this. But you should know it was same thing which got your wife killed."

    She died for writing to Revival Factory? His eyes widened.

    "Whoever does it must die. No exceptions." She smirked at him, "Weren''t you a butcher?"

    "Yes, I was." Boone answered.

    "Go and kill her at 27''O Clock." She took off the mask.

    "Perhaps you don¡¯t know what butcher means."

    "27''O Clock. I expect you to not disappoint me."

    She snapped and Boone was now staring at the blue door without walls.

 Revival Factory (Ch.10)

    With the permission to get inside her dreams, Boone felt freer than ever. He followed her straight to her house from there, not letting Woman in Blue about his intentions.

    How could she know what he was up to? She only expected one thing from him and it was a kill.

    After reaching her house, he realized how much fault his plan had. Even though she had written the letter, she had not posted it. Instead of it being inside the mailbox, outside her house, it was on the table.

    How did I miss this shit? He began to grind his teeth, trying to come up with some way by which he could make her post the letter.

    Because he could not touch or contact any living being, he spent all of his day in confusion which he could not resolve.

    Hours went by and came the time of souls. She was well asleep by this time and Boone could not think of any better time to make things happen. Boone shrunk himself and dived inside her ear to land in her lucid dream world.

    This time he was not playing around and had shenanigans of his own.

    He was on the same spot where he had been the last time. There was a factory like thing with huge chimneys ejecting fairies as well as a sign board with a ceramic pigeon sitting on it.

    Boone then morphed himself into something which had no physical form but was far terrifying from anything else. He heard her gasps.

    "Post the letter right now." Boone said.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences."I CAN''T WRITE MORE THAN ONE LETTER." Her voice prolonged everywhere, "REVIVAL FACTORY ONLY ACCEPTS ONE LETTER FROM A FAMILY."

    Boone could care less.

    "Do it or I will kill you as well as the woman in blue-"

    He had more things to say to scare her guts out but basic threat did wonders for him.

    She was awake and was unable to tell if she was in dream or was out of her sleep. When she somehow managed to regroup her senses, she lit the lamp and ran outside the house with letter in her hand.

    "Take this." She sobbed as she let the letter slide through the gap.

    Letter hit the bottom of mailbox and Boone felt relief.

    Under the moonlight, she breathed to let the scare out of her while Boone was standing behind her. About a minute later, she decided she had had enough of air then turned back to get in her house.

    She could not stop herself from screaming. She could not keep her voice consistent. His scream had no voice was left in it. The woman was immovable due to terror. She was able to see Boone.

    How can you? He wondered till his eye fell on his wrist watch.

    It was still 27''O Clock.

    I must kill her or Woman in Blue will know about my intentions. But the woman ran inside her house.

    Her being inside made things easier for him. Unable to make any noise, she began running on stairs just to find Boone standing on the top of stairs.

    Boone pushed her from there.

    The fall was fatal and Boone''s murder was clean. Her family members rushed towards her only to find her body. Those eyes were staring at Boone.

    Boone flew over her corpse. Her eyes followed him till they rolled back at last.

 Revival Factory (Ch.11)

    The postman came the next morning in order to empty the mail-box.  He unlocked the box and stuffed the letters inside his bag.

    At this point, Boone had determined he would follow the letter and reach to Revival Factory. Boone walked along with the postman.

    For a while he seemed to have a company and it seemed as if the postman was also sensing someone''s presence around him. He just was unable to not tell where someone was.

    The anxious man was having goosebumps and felt blood flowing inside his cheek veins. Feeling uneasy was not an excuse for his job though. He gathered the mails from his designated area and began to walk towards his van where the driver was waiting for him.

    He could read the address of post office written on the van.

    Boone heard the driver ask why he was red all of a sudden. Postman had no answer for it. And nobody could ask question to Boone. Boone did not think of making driver feel uncomfortable. He did not want the driver to crash the van and cause their deaths.

    How would they react if their souls saw another soul sharing same seat with them during the crash?

    Ultimately, Boone decided to get inside the back seat of the van. There was someone else already.

    At least he is not driving. He thought.

    The person sitting on the seat smiled at him.

    Gosh!

    He gave Boone a shove which dropped him through the window right on the street. Then the figure also passed through the window to reach towards Boone.

    "Who are you?" Boone questioned.

    "Grief." The ghost said, "It is my job to kill at 27."

    "Did you think I would not know who was making her write the letter to factory?" Woman in Blue appeared there, "And I have caught you with your hands in cookie jar."

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation."Erase him." Grief said.

    Boone didn¡¯t get intimidated by him much because he couldn¡¯t see the reaper axe anywhere.

    Surrounding began to glow. Every object which he could see started to illuminate till his eyes could not bear light anymore. The two figures in front of him had the most intense luminosity among all.

    Boone forced his eyes shut to save his sight. Then the light started to show mercy on him. As his contracted retina began to take its original shape again, he saw those two people lose their brightness.

    When the light vanished then he was looking at two vases which were on the table. He was also sitting on something.

    Couch. It was his couch. And he was in his home. Boone felt something which he hadn¡¯t felt since a long time, his heartbeat.

    Woman in Blue had revived him.

    _

    "Is he gone?" Grief threw a question at the woman.

    "Gone but not gone for good." She said.

    "Didn¡¯t you erase him?"

    "Oh innocent Grief. Now I feel guilty for not sharing a long kept secret with you."

    "What did you keep away from me?"

    "A soul can''t be erased just by beheading it with your axe. In order to erase a soul, the soul has to be sent back to a body and then get beheaded by the axe." She explained.

    "Why did you not tell me about this, Empress?"

    "Because just I was involved in erasing a soul. Now it is you and me." She came up with a grin again.

    "Hmm¡­okay. I will kill him as soon as 27 hits."

    "You can''t. Neither can I. We two won''t be able to touch or see him. He would not also see or touch us. I''ll find someone else to kill him."

    "Someone else?"

    "And your axe."

 Revival Factory (Ch.12)

    Boone could not believe he was alive back. What surprised him the most was that he remembered everything which had happened to him, in after life, in detail.

    She must have some motive in this. Why would she revive a traitor? He did not feel like being glad for his revival. No matter what, it gave him an upper hand regardless.

    They will not be able to see me. He regarded it as something to cherish at. Believing he was alive was tough. Even roaming around his house did not make him sure he was a living being now.

    Strolling, he reached to his poultry farm.

    He gazed through the metal net.

    All of his chicken and goose had died. The utensils of water and fodder were empty. He cared little to nothing about those creatures which would not have survived even three months nonetheless. Boone moved towards his son''s room. There he saw his big knife on the floor.

    It was clean.

    Boone picked it up wondering how Ian had got hold of this. He dropped the knife when he saw something more significant. There were paper and pen on Ian''s table.

    Revival Factory.

    Boone found himself on the small chair of his son, leaning towards the equally small table with a pen in his hand. But he could not write a word. He could not decide whom to write for.

    With only one letter to write, he could not choose between Ian and Stacy. He left the pen on table in the end.

    It was not a choice which he was used to make every day.

    He came into a conclusion after a while. He would visit Stacy''s parents as well as Ian''s friends to see who was depressed the most. Boone knew Stacy''s parents would be saddened for Ian as well but he wanted to know whom they would want back if given chance.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.Boone also wondered how kids would deal with losing their friend. It was a difficult choice for him. And one of them was going to make the decision for him.

    He stepped outside to sunlight, hired a cab and went for his father in law''s house.

    Boone reached there and knocked the door. A dog barked at him the moment his knuckles touched the door. Whether it was because of his knock or the dog¡¯s bark, someone came towards the door.

    His mother in law. She greeted her son in law with a gasp. Boone had no idea shocking element she had found in him. As far as he knew nobody knew he was dead for days.

    "Why weren¡¯t you receiving our calls, Boone?" she asked.

    The dog kept barking.

    "I was not in my home." Boone said and stepped inside the house where he saw his father in law looking at him.

    "Would you please calm the dog?" father in law yelled at his wife.

    "I don¡¯t know why he is barking. Last time when he had seen Boone he was waging his tail." She said, tying the dog to door knob.

    "Would you have some coffee, son in law?"

    "As well as an omelet, strips of bacon and some bread." He couldn¡¯t stop himself from saying.

    He was starving. Being alive had brought hunger back to his bag.

    Boone had no problem in showing them how hungry he was. He regretted why he didn¡¯t ask for double omelet.

    Meanwhile he ate, he listened to them express their sorrow. There was hardly a minute where both of them had not shed tears.

    As Boone had imagined, tears were for both Stacy and Ian but he could feel they were more saddened about their daughter. He did not ask whom they would like to revive because he knew whom they would choose.

    Boone left the house with filled stomach and left off for Ian''s school.

 Revival Factory (Ch.13)

    Evening had already come to life. Kids had started returning to their homes. Boone spotted some of Ian''s friends strolling. He knew the fat kid pretty well because he had come to his house several times just to watch little chicken.

    He would often come for school projects. Boone did not know how the kid felt about him because every time he had come to his house, Boone had a knife with him.

    "Kiddo!" Boone waved at him.

    They walked towards him without feeling uncomfortable. None of them appeared sad by any means.

    Don''t kids have empathy? He asked himself.

    When Boone began to talk about Ian then all of them burst into tears. Their smiles left their faces and everyone tasted tears. Boone felt something bubbling inside his stomach too.

    It was not hunger but sorrow trying to reach his head. He walked away from there without uttering a word and went straight to his home.

    There he, again, sat on the small paper with pen and paper but with the same confusion. He could not decide who deserved to be revived. In the mission of finding who was more saddened among two groups, he realized he was the one hit by it the most.

    Over midnight, he kept on writing Stacy, crossed it and Ian, crossing it as well. He was clueless on how many paper sheets had gone in vain.

    Boone ran out of ink in ball-pen. He tried to scratch some words with it but failed. At last, he went on to smash the pen into the wall. His eyes fell on the clock during the aggravation.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.Hour hand was pointing at 27.

    "Goddamn it!" Boone rose from his chair but it was too late.

    Some souls had already appeared inside his house. They were some of those medieval ghosts who played a weird sport.

    "Back off." Boone began pleading.

    "You find souls scary? Very surprising indeed." A ghost came with a mockery.

    "You''re here to kill me, aren¡¯t you?"

    "And what do you think is stopping us from doing it?"

    Boone couldn¡¯t answer.

    "Intention." Ghost said, "What you did has caused quite a ripple among us. Langer and Ivanov are worth forgetting now. I believe you are sentenced to be erased. But we also know how the rule works. We just had no business with revealing the rule."

    "Woman in Blue is still after me?"

    "Yes. Once you get hit by the axe''s blade, you will be gone for good. But you don¡¯t need to fear that scenario. She had sent us to find you. You know we are good at keeping our mouth sewed."

    "What do you intend then?"

    "Revive us."

    A soul picked up a pencil and began scribbling names while the spokesperson kept on rambling, "If you don¡¯t revive us tomorrow then you should be scared of us. We can be very nasty sometimes."

    Every one of them dissolved in air when names were put down on paper sheet. The souls were done with their words and awaited Boone''s actions.

    Boone spent majority of the time left to dawn by writing those names individually on papers and putting them in separate envelopes. When he was done doing so, he was left with pile of letters.

 Revival Factory (Ch.14)

    He left his house with raised pockets when sun showed its semi circular shape from the hills. Boone remembered address of the post office.

    The place was not very far from where he lived but he had concern on something else.

    What could be the consequence of writing multiple times to Revival Factory? He was well aware of Crowman. Does he kill anyone who tries to overuse their facility?

    Is he the guardian of Revival Factory or he is someone who spies at people who write for the factory?

    He couldn¡¯t make any sense out of it. Believing in Woman in Blue''s words didn¡¯t seem wise because Boone was not erased as per the rules. All he believed was that the red beaked freak had killed his wife.

    Boone was unwilling to take a cab. He took all the stress on his feet.

    About an hour later, he reached nearby the post office which looked as normal as any other post offices. Nothing was out of order.

    "Boone!" a person called his name from behind.

    He looked back to see who he was.

    Boone regretted it in a second. Someone put a sack over his head which swallowed him like a snake. He began to slide upside down on a slippery tunnel which apparently had no end to it.

    Boone felt thud on his back. He was lucky to not have damaged his vertebrate.

    The same man who had put the sack over him was looking down at him. There were some other people with him watching the spectacle as well.

    "Who are you?" Boone asked one of them.

    "Irrelevant question, Boone. Let me ask you some relevant question." A man in Tragedy mask knelt to speak to him, "We did not revive you. How did you come back from death?"

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source."You are from Revival Factory?"

    "Looks like he knows more about us more than I had thought." A crow faced with red beak entered inside the room.

    He is real! Boone''s eyes widened.

    "Where am I?"

    "You are dead again."

    "What?"

    "I was kidding. You are in Revival Factory." The creature with red beak gave him his hand.

    Boone caught the charcoal like black arm. Thin fingers wrapped around his hand and pulled him to his feet.

    "Crowman?" Boone wanted to know.

    "No. I am Red Demise."

    "So you have heard of me as well?" Crowman came from the same door. He looked identical to Red Demise but had black beak, "Looks like you know about a lot. Why don¡¯t you tell us about yourself too?"

    "How did you get your life back?" man masked by Tragedy invaded his personal space.

    "The Woman in Blue revived me."

    "Ah, she wants to kill you for good. I should have seen this reason coming."

    The wooden masks, with perpetual same expression, watched each others in silence.

    "Boone. I am sorry but you can''t go from here." Crowman said.

    "You''re making me a prisoner?"

    "This is a factory. Not a prison. Don¡¯t expect shackles but don¡¯t expect freedom either."

    "Work for us." Red Demise spoke with his beak which did not move.

    "Work?" Boone was about speak up against them till a thought spur in his head.

    If I stay here, I can revive those medieval ghosts and save myself.

    "Okay." Boone mumbled, not telling them about the thing which had happened to him last night. If he told them he was being followed then the factory men could even kill him, "What will be my work?"

    "Mopping the floor, of course." Crowman told.

 Revival Factory (Ch.15)

    Boone was never in love with mopping the damp floor. He was cursing every footprint which he was seeing while he did his job. The most difficult stains were the ones which belonged to wheels.

    Those rusted wheels had left a stubborn trail of rust which would not go no matter how much he scrubbed. While scrubbing, he saw an old man shoving the heavy cart. The rusty wheels let him know that they were about to add more trouble for him.

    "Hey old hag! Just hoist your belongings and throw this cart in trash." Boone snapped at him.

    "Then carry it for me, you new douche." Old Ghost didn¡¯t have pleasant words from him either.

    Boone lost in the end. Old Ghost pushed it from the same track regardless. Other than the annoying hag, he didn¡¯t find anything bothering him for the entire day.

    Boone dined in the evening and watched Red Demise and Crowman peck food from their plates.

    Dropping his mop, he went to his room for some sleep. Which he didn¡¯t get any. The clock ticked and ticked in his sleeplessness. Boone began counting sheep to bring sleep. Every tick of the second hand became a sheep which was jumping over the fence.

    It became a symphony in otherwise silent room. He didn¡¯t know if it was the tune or silence itself but he found himself in realm of sleep.

    "You are in Revival Factory? Clever." He heard a sheep let words out.

    "Why do you care?" Boone asked.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.Every sheep which was grazing now raised their heads and watched Boone with grass stuffed inside their jaws.

    "We care. And you should too." Those animals morphed into medieval souls.

    "I was trying to revive you all ¨C"

    "Looking at how close you are from doing so, we offer you a chance. A final one. Make it happen tomorrow otherwise you will see the woman next time in our place."

    The herd of sheep went on to graze again. Despite of all the stress, Boone got sleep which he was deprived of for days.

    Next morning,

    Right after the breakfast, Boone picked up the mop which he had dropped last night. He counted the letters and packed it inside this jacket pocket. He then went to the same miserable place which somehow looked nastier than last day.

    Boone saw the Old Ghost pushing the cart on his quest of scrubbing the fllor. Either the Old Ghost was shoving heaver load or he was exhausted, he was huffing and puffing on every step.

    "Listen you, rookie." Old Ghost had words for Boone, "Do you want to do anything other than kneeling on this damp floor?"

    "Are you going to make me Crowman''s assistant, huh?"

    "Who would like you as an assistant?" Old Ghost took hands off the cart, "I am taking these revival letters somewhere."

    Revival Letters! Boone desperately wanted to have dry knees at some extent after hearing it.

    "You have revival letters in your cart?"

 Revival Factory (Ch.16)

    "You have revival letters in your cart?"

    "Do you want to help me out or not?" Old Ghost spread his arms.

    "Sure."

    "Good. I am going to cafeteria to have some coffee. I missed breakfast this morning. Look at my cart till I return." Old Ghost said before strolling away from there.

    Boone couldn¡¯t think of a better time than this to revive the medieval ghosts. He looked around for cameras and began to pick the letters.

    Old Ghost was not lying. Those letters were legit.

    When Boone got sure that there were no security cameras observing his actions, he took out the slab of letters.

    Wait! Is Crowman testing me? He stopped himself from tossing the letters in there. Whether it was an experiment laid by Crowman or not, Boone had no intention of letting such opportunity slip out of his hands.

    No matter whom I let down, consequence will be the same for me. Boone took a long breath and loosened his grip. The letters scattered on the pile of many envelopes.

    Boone began to hear tramps.

    Crowman? Holy Mary! Crowman was looking after me all along.

    "Do you like my job?" Old Ghost came with a coffee cup in his hand.

    For the first time, Boone was relieved to see Old Ghost.

    "You didn¡¯t answer me." He snapped.

    "Yes." Boone mumbled, "Yours is better than mine. Do you mind if I ask you something?"

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation."Go on."

    "Err¡­have you seen revival process?"

    A wide smirk spread across his face.

    "You are getting distracted. Try some pastry in cafeteria and mind your own business." Old Ghost had a shift in his voice.

    Boone watched Old Ghost go with his trolley. He was not struggling to push it. Perhaps Boone''s question had ignited strength in his rusting bones.

    Boone took the ghost''s words into consideration after a while. He did not care about minding his own business but he had some curiosity about the pastry which Old Ghost talked about. Food there hadn¡¯t disappointed him thus far so he went on to try another cuisine.

    Boone took the pastry from the counter and sat in a table with it. He sat there eating every bit of it. Devouring it made him realize it was a staple dish among the workers.

    Boone saw grains of corn and rice under his feet.

    Crowman and Red Demise were eating here. He realized.

    While eating another pastry, Old Ghost came inside the caf¨¦, demanding cigarette on the counter.

    "How was your day, oldie?" the man who had served Boone pastry asked.

    "Dirty as ever." Old Ghost put the cigarette between his lips.

    "Which job do you prefer? The one you are doing or now or what you did when you were alive?"

    "Whatever I did was better than dumping rejected letters in trash."

    The answer shook Boone to the core.

    I sent those letters to trash? Boon''s lips dried.

 Revival Factory (Ch.17)

    He had to know where Old Ghost had thrown the letters. There was no way Boone could simply ask him about it.

    Old Ghost had already started to be skeptical about his intentions.

    "Did anyone tell you how dirty your jacket looks?" Boone spoke from his table.

    "Are you talking to me?" man on counter asked with a scoop of gravy in his hand.

    "He''s talking to me." Old Ghost puffed smoke out.

    "Trashtalking to you is fair though." Man laughed from counter.

    "Well, Boone. Tell me what you find dirty about my jacket." Old Ghost sat on chair infront of him.

    He pointed at a brown stain, "This stain."

    "I was sipping this soup before I choked to death by it." He laughed, "This is a whole new level bad cookery, isn¡¯t it?"

    You nasty fag. Stop lying.

    "I thought you got it from where you dump your trash. Instead you are blaming your wife."

    "I keep dumpster clean. And my wife was horrible cook."

    "Who keeps trash clean?" Boone scoffed a fake laughter. But Old Ghost didn¡¯t catch it.

    "Anyone who has to sleep with the dumpster would like to have it clean." Old Ghost got provoked.

    That''s it! It is in your room.

    "Get the horrible smile off your face." Old Ghost grinded his teeth, "And watch your tone when you talk to me."

    Old Ghost threw the cigarette at his face and left the caf¨¦. And as the ghost walked out of there, Boone followed him. Going behind him was a tough task because Old Ghost walked very slow. It was very hard to not get noticed by him.

    Old Ghost gasped while he was on his way for something when he paused. He thought he had heard someone following him.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.Boone realized his awareness and hid behind the turn of passage. From there, instead of going behind him, Boone watched where he went.

    Old Ghost turned the key on the door and removed his jacket. He did not mind the stain. When the door opened then he stepped inside his room.

    Boone had no idea he kept his door locked. He had to walk inside his room if he wanted to get the letters back. He made his mind and didn¡¯t think twice for his decision.

    Boone ran inside the room.

    "Don¡¯t move, kid." Old Ghost was sitting on his bed with a gun in his clutches, "Did you think I was a piece of cake?"

    Boone raised his hands and kept it in the air. He scanned the room but there was no sign of the dumpster.

    "Why do you find annoying and following me so amusing?" Old Ghost asked.

    "It''s a fetish."

    "I smell some motive. Not fetish."

    "What is the first thought a rookie here gets?" Boone questioned.

    "Revival process, isn¡¯t it?"

    "Yeah." Boone nod, "The system."

    "System works like this. I mind my business and you mind your own. I had told you about it earlier. Pastry didn¡¯t help you remember it. Perhaps this gun will."

    "I''ll watch my steps from here on." Boone whispered.

    "You better be." Old Ghost lowered his gun, "Let''s start it from here, okay?"

    "Sure."

    "Why did you come here?"

    Boone thought for a while, "I came here to apologize to you. Your jacket wasn¡¯t so dirty after all. I shouldn¡¯t have humiliated you there."

    "Not the right answer but it¡¯s a wise one. Now get out from here."

    Boone didn¡¯t let a single second go in vain after it. He rushed out.

 Revival Factory (Ch.18)

    Mid day,

    Maybe people had started to think Boone was someone who could make life easier for them. For the low level workers, Boone was just a new recruit who hated scrubbing the floor.

    He already had been a watchman for Old Ghost''s tray. The canteen chef was thinking something else for him. He approached Boone with a tray which had two coffee cups on it. His shaky hands made Boone think he would spill it on the floor.

    It was not a pleasant thing for Boone.

    "Boone." Chef said, "Come here."

    Finally I have met someone who appreciates my work. Boone left the mop.

    "Which one is for me?" Boone was searching for the mug with more coffee.

    "Neither. Red mug is for Red Demise and black for Crowman. And both have equal portions of coffee in them." Chef was somewhat kind with his words than Old Ghost, "Please take this to their office room."

    Boone didn¡¯t utter a word and walked with it. Balancing was an art which he needed to work on. Both cups didn¡¯t have same portion of coffee in there anymore.

    After a stressful walk, he reached in front of the working room and knocked the door while balancing the tray in his other hand.

    Red Demise opened the door. His red beak almost pocked his chest.

    How do they even drink? Boone thought while coming inside the room. He saw Crowman sitting on the couch. Crowman was holding two straws in his hand.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation."Red Demise, I think we should take lesser letters." Crowman said while putting straw in deep mug, "I can''t believe I rejected that much letters this morning alone."

    "We didn¡¯t hire Old Ghost for nothing." said Red Demise, "How about you, Boone?"

    "Huh?" Boone was about to exit the room when he paused.

    "You seem to have enough strength to dump rejected letters. What do you think?"

    Old Ghost was dumping those letters? I threw medieval ghosts'' letters in trash? Boone was frozen.

    "Does it disgust you?" Crowman sipped the coffee.

    "Not at all." Words somehow came out of Boone''s mouth.

    "They are just papers, aren¡¯t they?" Red Demise laughed, "Crowman sleeps with those. He''s never found it disgusting."

    Letters are in Crowman''s room. Goddamn me!

    "I will go and dump them." Boone was in hurry.

    "From tomorrow. I will let Old Ghost know it is his last day in this job."

    The last glimmer of hope faded away for him. Medieval ghosts had given him time till tonight. Boone left the room and went in search for Crowman''s room. He assumed the room would be nearby.

    His reckoning wasn¡¯t wrong. Boone stood in front of the room which had crow''s face attached on the door. On the opposite side there was another door but the attached bronze sculpture had red beak.

    He knew where he had to go. Boone pushed the door but it would not open.

    Keys! Words came in his mind. He did not have the key.

 Revival Factory (Ch.19)

    He spent hours by thinking how he could get the key which he had no clue what it even looked like. Boone had ability of doing something there, going anywhere with the mop in his hand.

    Making things tough for him, he reached to deeper places of the factory. He soon was in the passage where everyone walked with their masks on. None of those masks looked pleasant.

    They looked like something ploughed straight out of nightmare. Disfigured and disproportionate facial features which could scare a child or a grown man feel uncomfortable.

    He saw some of those people, walking and stretching their bodies.

    "Longest stretch ever!" one''s muffled voice said.

    "I''ll go and sleep till dinner." Another said.

    Boone found a point right there. He followed him quietly. And this time he was pretty good at it.

    Old Ghost had taught him well how not to sneak at someone. He reckoned the man he was following was a low level worker because he went inside the dormitory, took off his mask and threw himself on his bed.

    Once he covered his face with the blanket, Boone stole the mask.

    "Don¡¯t worry. This mask will be back here till dinner." He whispered while he walked out of the room.

    He reached inside the Revival Room by following other masked men.

    On the corner of the giant room there was a huge machine which was inhaling letters. Machine looked very much like a burner due to steam coming out of it. On the other hand, it also appeared similar to first generation computers.

    His thoughts ended when he sighted Crowman in there with the operator. When Crowman moved aside, he saw a key hanging on the wall.

    Is this it? Boone was not sure but because they key was near Crowman at the time when he had seen it, he convinced himself it was key to his room.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.By escaping everyone''s sharp eyes, Boone stuffed it inside his pocket and when people got busy, he got out from there. Boone went on to put the mask back in the dormitory from there. Then he went for Crowman''s door.

    He heard Red Demise''s door opening.

    Shit! Boone got terrified as it opened and Red Demise came out from there.

    Boone was hiding behind the open flap of door for few seconds. He lied down on floor when Red Demise locked it. The only reason Red Demise was unable to see him was because he was in Red Demise''s blind spot. Red Demise did turn his head around because of his heavy beak.

    Unlike birds, his eyes were in front of his head. Not on sides. So he always had avoided to turn his head in every matter. The heavy beak was enough to imbalance him.

    Red Demise took out his feather, caressed it on door and it locked.

    Then Red Demise went away. Boone put the key inside the sculpture''s mouth and turned it when Red Demise was gone. But the door did not unlock. It did not even feel like key had been inserted inside the lock.

    It was when he realized he required Crowman''s feather to unlock his room.

    Old Ghost was showering in the bathroom while he cussed and whined about his stressful day even thought there was nobody to hear him.

    He had soap all over his head. Few drops even seeped inside his eyelids which irritated his eyes. He was cursing even more when he splashed handful of water on his face.

    After a while, his eyes felt good. He soon regretted it when he saw Boone picking up feathers from the floor.

    Rolling his eyes up, Boone got a nice view of Old Ghost''s jewels.

    "Haha!" Old Ghost laughed, "Now you are a bathroom cleaner?"

    "Yes. I am." Boone did not want to see any part of Old Ghost.

    He collected feathers and left Old Ghost showering.

 Revival Factory (Ch.20)

    Boone, once again, stood in front of Crowman''s door. He took out the feathers from his pocket and looked around to know whether someone was peeking on him. He had already got plenty of Old Ghost''s attention by now.

    Boone gently stroked the crow''s beak by the feather. It did not work so he tried another feather.

    One of them worked. Beak opened and the door clicked open.

    He smelled grassy fragrance as air came out from Crowman''s room. After taking a long breath, he stepped inside the dark room. As soon as his feet touched the floor, he felt like he was walking on haystack. Taking further steps made him believe those were twigs.

    His eyes were taking time to adjust with the surrounding. But it didn¡¯t take longer for him to see where he was. Boone was walking on a giant nest made of twigs and hay strands.

    The nest was as big as a crater.

    In the middle of the nest there was a life sized egg shell which had been broken into two. He believed it was the egg from where Crowman had hatched.

    But on corner of the room, there was the thing which Boone had come looking for thus far. Dumpster.

    Boone jumped his way across the quicksand like nest to the dumpster. The nest was not supposed to walk on but instead to fly to. Boone didn¡¯t have wings so he was miles further from the comfort.

    Gasping, Boone opened the lid of dumpster without making any noise. Letters reflected in his eyes as if they were treasure. Boone also behaved like he had discovered a chest dug by pirates.

    On the utmost surface he found his lifeline. There was no way he could not recognize the envelopes which he had thrown in there. They didn¡¯t look dirty by any means but rather appeared appealing from every avenue.

    The admiral came to a stop at a time and he started gathering the envelopes one by one. He was in no condition to afford losing any of those letters.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation."I need some rest." Boone heard a voice coming inside through the door.

    Crowman was right outside the room. Boone''s jaw dropped when he heard the door click open. He knew it would take few seconds for Crowman''s eyes to adjust so he dived inside the dumpster.

    Boone was glad that he had managed to defy Crowman''s ears as well.

    "Old Ghost!" Crowman called.

    "Yes, sir." His voice was unmistakable.

    "Burn the letters of this dumpster." He commanded.

    Boone was confident he was not going to burn it right there because it was Crowman''s room. And he was delighted to find out he was right.

    Old Ghost put his hands on dumpster and began to push it out of the room.

    "It is heavy." Old Ghost whimpered.

    "I know. And I am thinking of making things easier for you." Crowman replied.

    Boone kept his silence. He realized he was well far from Crowman''s room when he just began to hear panting of exhausted Old Ghost. The Ghost stopped pushing to wipe his sweat.

    Dumpster was just too heavy for him this time.

    Boone will push it for me. He thought when he reached the same place where Boone had been mopping for days.

    "Boone, are you around here?" Old Ghost began to make noise.

    The calls became fainter with each step Old Ghost took and disappeared soon. Boone peeked out by lifting the lid to watch surrounding and jumped out from there. Some letters fell out from garbage along with him.

    Hasting, he began to put them back in.

    "Here you are! What are you up to? Hide and seek?" Old Ghost came seconds after Boone closed the lid.

    "I wasn¡¯t hiding. But it looks you were seeking for me." Boone laughed, trying to eject out nervousness.

    Did he see me coming out of dumpster? He doubted.

 Revival Factory (Ch. 21)

    Did he see me coming out of dumpster? Boone doubted.

    "Okay, help me and push this thing. Crowman told me to burn all these rejected letters."

    Boone then began to push it while Old Ghost walked along with him. He could feel they were close to the burner. Boone was sweating more than when he was inside the garbage. Even the dumpster had started to heat up.

    Old Ghost opened the door and flames immediately showed their presence.

    "Empty the letters in the fire." Old Ghost ordered him.

    Boone tilted the dumpster and letters started to fall inside the fire.

    Around the burner room there was nobody other than them. He had no skeptics regarding why. The place was blistering hot. Old Ghost helped him to pull the dumpster back.

    "I will get burns. We should move-"

    Old Ghost hushed him, "You will miss the most interesting part about this fire. Wait."

    Curiosity let Boone hold his sweat for a while.

    "See." Old Ghost pointed at the smoke which had taken human figure. Those shape shifted smoke walked on flames in number of hundreds.

    They looked down and began to cry.

    "For years I thought they were souls mourning for themselves till I realized they weren¡¯t. Those things on fire are hopes of people who had written those letters."

    "Every soul won''t get human life again." Old Ghost continued.

    "Who decides it?" Boone questioned.

    "Crowman."

    "I remember you pointing a gun at me because I my nose, apparently, was stuck in somebody else''s matter."

    "I shouldn¡¯t have threatened you. I should have kept calm and answered your questions so that you don¡¯t do silly things in coming days."

    "I didn¡¯t take it to my heart." Boone said.

    "Neither did you take it in your brain. I saw you steal Crowman''s feather."

    "Fetish." Muttered Boone.

    Old Ghost didn¡¯t take it as a joke. He stopped making any sound.

    Boone felt the necessity to break silence, "What does Crowman pay you for this job?"

    "If he is pleases, he will revive my grandfather." Old Ghost took out a torn letter from his pocket, "He will put life on an Egyptian who will go on to be a laborer in construction of Pryamids."

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author."Doesn¡¯t revival mean, err, reviving in general?" Boone was astonished.

    "I call it recycle. One body will have thousands of souls residing in it one by one. But each of them makes same decision, lives same way and dies same way."

    "What about memories of their past life?" Boone interrogated.

    "Having memory from past life is rare. But it will be worthless. Think what would happen to me if I tell early Christians Earth is round? Or what if I tell people colonizing Mars that I was involved in Aztec sacrifice? Time shall change but mockery of me won''t."

    Boone still had his eyes locked at Old Ghost''s letter, "Do you ever think of sliding this letter in Revival Machine?"

    Old Ghost laughed, "What''s the point of being a soul if he can''t leave greed and impatience with his corpse?"

    "But you are well aware I am alive."

    "I am also aware what you are up to." Old Ghost poked the letters on Boone''s pocket.

    "Will you help me?"

    "I can just tell you what to do. The machine doesn¡¯t accept more than thirty letters at once. No more, no less. Those thirty letters are selected by Crowman himself. Put your letters in the tray of selected letters and remove those letters you want to remove. Simple. But be cautious, if you don''t make it thirty, in exact, then the machine will set an alarm."

    "What kind of alarm?" Boone wanted to know.

    "It announces the name of person who made the error."

    "Where do these letters go to?"

    "Why don¡¯t you ask Crowman, you shit ingrate." Old Ghost changed the way he spoke.

    "Alright! Calm down."

    "Go."

    "Okay." Boone caught the dumpster.

    "Get out of my sight and never talk to me about this shit factory again." Old Ghost was now roaring.

    Boone found his wrath frightening for some reason. He had no desire to see it grow so he ran.

    When Boone was gone, Old Ghost spread a smile on his face.

    Crowman had promised me he would revive my grandfather immediately if I catch anyone trying to revive an unauthorized person. Boone felt delighted than ever, whistled and watched the hopes weep on fire. Now Old Ghost was just waiting for Boone to make a mistake.

 Revival Factory (Ch. 22)

    Boone went straight to the cafeteria from there, unaware of the ruse. The smell of food didn¡¯t trigger hunger in his stomach. He instead was searching for the excuse to get inside the Revival Room.

    Boone doubted that getting in there like the last time was not going to be helpful. Whose mask he was going to steal? How sure was he that fortune would again be in his favor?

    Watching the cook pouring tea in the glasses, Boone waited with patience to be called by him. He was looking at the cook the whole time.

    Cook glanced at him.

    "You wanna have some tea?" Cook asked.

    Tell me to serve them inside Revival room. "No, thanks." Boone went on to say.

    "You can have one."

    Don¡¯t insist on something I don¡¯t want. "I was just relaxing here."

    "Relaxing huh?" Cook laughed and lifted the tray.

    To Boone''s dismay, he was taking the tray all by himself. Easy pass to get inside Revival room was off with tea, leaving him with all the time for relaxation.

    He left the room as soon as the cook disappeared. The only option left on his plate was theft. And he had appetite for it.

    Where are you masked man? Boone thought and rushed out of the room.

    In the mid way, siren rang within the factory. Men in masks ran towards the Revival Room in their masks.

    "EVERYONE! PLEASE GATHER IN REVIVAL ROOM!" announcement came.

    "Come!" a masked man insisted him to come.

    Did they find out what I did? Boone was worried all the time.

    Once again, Boone passed from same way to reach the same room. This time, it was very much crowded.

    "Search for the key. Key of this machine is lost." Crowman was announcing on microphone, "Key is in the room. Help me to find it."

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report itSomething hit Boone after hearing it. He had stolen Revival Machine''s key by mistake. And it was still inside his pocket.

    On his another pocket, he felt the lump of letters.

    After few minutes of search, Crowman sent half of workers outside the room to search for the key.

    Room became less crowded which gave Boone a chance. Boone picked the letters which he did not want to get inside the machine and began replacing them.

    His hands were shaking mess at the time. Boone was dumping unnecessary letters in the trash can. There was a chance of error which did come to reality.

    A letter fell on the floor.

    Even though it was noiseless, it lit sensation of a nuclear missile meeting the ground inside Boone''s heart. Worst among all, Boone did not get time to pick it up because people were gathering to where he was. So he kicked the letter underneath the machine.

    "Here!" Boone took the key out, "I have found it."

    "Hey! Where was it?" other ghosts came towards him.

    "Ahh¡­it was jammed inside this shaft." Boone pointed at a part of machine which he had no clue about.

    Whether people were convinced or not but they were relieved to get the key back. Nobody asked him another question. Instead Red Demise went to rant at Crowman.

    "Cut this shit out red beak. Key is back with us." Crowman began to walk away from him and spoke to the operator, "We are hours behind the schedule. I expect a crunch today. Get going."

    Operator ran towards his chair and sat in front of the letters to go inside the machine. He organized scattered letters and turned on the machine.

    Machine began to pull the letters in. Old Ghost looked at the machine with delight in his eyes. He was in the countdown of his own.

    Alarm rang.

    "What''s wrong?" Crowman ran towards the operator.

    Operator pointed at tiny yellow light and looked at him in surprise.

    "Somebody cheated!" Crowman roared.

 Revival Factory (Ch. 23)

    "Somebody cheated!" Crowman roared.

    Crowman began to march around the people who were petrified in scare, "Unauthorized letter. Who put it in?" his voice was becoming louder with each words.

    "I have doubt on someone." Old Ghost raised his hand.

    "Who?"

    Old Ghost pointed at Boone.

    I thought you were helping me. Boone was taken aback by the backstabbing.

    "You sure?" Crowman asked Old Ghost by not moving his black eyes off Boone.

    "He had been showing too much interest in the revival process." Old Ghost didn¡¯t stop.

    "Crowman!" Operator called, "This is rare. Red and yellow lights are on at the same time."

    "Nobody shall leave this room. The machine will announce who did it."

    The machine announced the name.

    ELGAR!

    "Fuck!" Operator jumped from his chair, "Crowman, I swear I did nothing." His voice was trembling.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.With a click, the machine ejected out a letter.

    Crowman picked it up.

    On the letter there was written IAN.

    "Machine says Ian is still alive. How did this get in here?" Crowman said.

    My son is still alive?

    "Ian is Boone''s son." Old Ghost yelled, "He brought it here."

    "His son is alive, Old Ghost. There is no point in him writing for his son."

    "His wife! His wife is also dead!"

    "I did not expect this from you, Old Ghost. You were setting up a conspiracy against a new guy."

    "NO! I was not."

    "I shouldn¡¯t have promised you a reward." Crowman''s tone intensified, "Guards, seize him."

    A group of guards charged towards Old Ghost and tackled him to the floor.

    "This betrayal has showed another flaw in the system here. I will add another feature in this machine." Crowman grinded his teeth, "From now on, just me, Red Demise and Elgar are allowed to be in this room. EVERYONE GET OUT!"

    Old Ghost felt the letter inside his pocket disappear while he was being taken to the dungeon.

 Revival Factory (Ch. 24)

    Rest of the day had become mess ever since Old Ghost was imprisoned. Every worker was told to get in their rooms and not come back till Crowman was done changing some properties of the machine.

    He did not take it as a day off. Even though Boone didn¡¯t cause suspicion and was labeled as a victim, he knew he was somewhat under the watch of Crowman.

    Crowman''s bloodshot eyes were far from being forgotten. He had seen his reflection in colour changing retina. And it was not a pleasant experience to go through.

    Boone lay in his bed, wondering when he would see sunlight again. It had been days since he had not been outside. Gone were the days when the surrounding helped him to know if it was dawn or dusk. Now there was just a lifeless clock ticking and reminding him of his schedule.

    He turned to other side of bed, thinking.

    When I had accepted my son is dead, I realize he is alive. And what is the purpose of reviving Stacy if I won''t ever get to see her again? Old Ghost is right. This is recycling. A dead person will never come back to the lives of their loved ones. Boone was seconds away from sobbing.

    Tears seeped through his eyelashes and clumped between his eyelids.

    He did not know when he slept.

    A dream reminded him of his sleep where Boone, again, was in front of the factory. Factory in his dream had not changed. He watched the dusk, this time, instead of having gander at the chimney.

    A fairy shot out of the chimney and flew at his direction. The fairy changed herself to a ghost.

    "Who are you?" Boone went on to ask.

    "You are the one who stopped my revival."

    "You must be product of my dream-"

    But the ghost flew towards him with a sword in his hand. Boone ducked and missed being sliced by the blade.

    Shit! This might be the ghost whose letter I had dropped. But Boone was not intimidated by him. Waking up would make him go because no ghost could enter inside the factory.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.Boone attempted to open his eyes but his locked eyelids didn¡¯t let it happen. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn¡¯t convince his brain this was a dream.

    Mentally waking up seemed unlikely at the time so he produced a giant hammer and squashed the ghost with it.

    Ghost leaked out from the bottom without his sword. Looking at Boone gliding away, he stretched himself and caught Boone''s foot.

    The glob like substance ascended on his body and wrapped around his neck.

    Boone was choking so he took himself to Antarctica. Snowflakes touched his cheeks. He felt the blob hardening like concrete so he threw himself into bone chilling ocean.

    As the water hit him, the glob began to dissolve and gave him time to breath. But he was in water and far away from being a fish so he went into an open meadow where he inhaled fresh air.

    The ghost was far from being done with him. It had turned itself into a giant bee with his mouth wide apart. Inside his mouth there were millions of reaper blades instead of teeth. Boone changed his direction and passed through its massive wings.

    Getting through it took him to a Martian colony. He had not landed inside a dome but was on radioactive land. Blue sunset didn¡¯t help him because he was suffocating. He made a space suit which he used to counter oxygen deprivation.

    Ghost appeared again but Boone couldn¡¯t fly in such heavy suit. The ghost was going to catch up with him soon so he thought with cool head.

    He produced revival machine with a letter fallen under it.

    Ghost paused and picked up the letter then tried to put it in. Since he had bought some time, Boone tried his best to wake up. While doing so, he stumbled on a rock and fell.

    The fall broke his sleep.

    Alarm was ringing outside. It made him realize alarm was the reason why he was able to wake up.

    Crowman must be experimenting. He reckoned.

    After turning on the lights, corner of his eye caught something unusual. Clock hand was showing it was 27.

 Revival Factory (Ch. 25)

    How is this possible? Death window can''t happen in this factory! He was hit by massive distress.

    "Security breach!" sounds of panicked people came from attached speakers.

    He ran out of his room to see everyone else rushing in the passage. Boone also joined them without any question.

    In the chaos, he met Red Demise.

    "Wh-w-what h-happened?" he stammered.

    "Crowman is dead!" Red Demise said while running along with him.

    "How did he die?"

    "He got murdered, don¡¯t you see?" Red Demise stopped, "Death window has come here after centuries!"

    Most of the people were busy in checking CCTV footages. They were glued to their computer screens, constantly forwarding and rewinding the video. Red Demise was more worried about the current Death Window than Crowman''s murder.

    "Red Demise!" an operator called him, "Look at this."

    Red Demise pushed his way to see what the operator had noticed. Boone joined him as well.

    There they saw one man entering inside Crowman''s room. He stayed there for a minute and ran out of the room. To their fortune, the camera caught his face.

    He was Old Ghost.

    "Old Ghost killed him! How did he get out from the dungeon?" Red Demise was taken aback.

    "Window is still active. We must find him before he costs more lives. Everyone is mortal in this hour." Boone talked to him.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it."Guards. Come with me." Red Demise said and guards began to carry their guns. Red Demise stopped, "Boone, carry a gun and join us."

    He struggled to carry the heavy rifle and struggled more to walk with it.

    Who freed him? Thoughts refused to leave Red Demise''s head. Is he the one who opened Death Window? If he is the one then how did he do it?

    Boone was behind the guards all the time. He almost bumped to one in front of him when they stopped.

    Guards gasped in horror when they saw Grief standing in their way with a tight grip on his reaper.

    "Run!" Red Demise bellowed but it was too late.

    Grief swung it and the axe stretched like rubber. Those who got touched by the blade collapsed there and lost their lives for eternity.

    Boone thought Red Demise also had been a victim till he saw him fly in the passage with his giant wings apart. Now the reaper was coming towards Boone.

    Boone felt like he was paralyzed from down the neck.

    Red Demise crashed on him which saved him from being hit by it. Red Demise went on to clutch him by his sharp talons and began to fly with him. His claws were sinking in Boone''s skin but he did not mind it.

    Boone didn¡¯t like being a liability. He aimed his gun at Grief when he was in air. Boone fired the jet of light.

    Red Demise couldn¡¯t handle the thrust by it and collided on the wall. But it had brought them some time along with bruises near to bleed.

 Revival Factory (Ch. 26)

    Red Demise couldn¡¯t handle the thrust by it and collided on the wall. But it had brought them some time along with bruises near to bleed.

    On foot, both of them reached to end of passage and locked the door before Grief could get out. They heard reaper hitting the door but felt safe for a while.

    "Will this hold him?" Boone panted.

    "For few minutes? Yes." Red Demise said from his fractured beak.

    Red Demise sighed. He pushed Boone out of the way and fired in the air. Boone knew it had hit something invisible.

    Red Demise''s laughter after the shooting made it obvious.

    "What did you hit?" Boone asked from the floor.

    "I killed Woman in Blue." Red Demise said, "Ah, I forgot you can''t see her. Her corpse is there." he pointed at clean floor.

    With the constant pounding on the door, Boone had not time to celebrate her death.

    "How can we defeat Grief? There is plenty of time left in this hour." Boone glanced at the clock.

    "Put his name in the revival machine." Red Demise uttered and took out pen and paper from his pocket.

    GRIEF, he wrote then handed it over to Boone.

    "You go." assured Red Demise.

    "Why didn¡¯t you do this to him before if it is this easy to get rid of him?" Boone couldn¡¯t help but question.

    "Because he had not intervened in our process before this." Red Demise gave him the key which he had with him, "Now, go and put this letter in the machine. Replace one letter and out it in its place. Machine accepts thirty letters at once."

    I knew this. "Aren''t you coming?"

    "You think you can fight this monster when it comes out, do you?"

    Boone had heard enough. He stormed out of the place.

    He was aware he had got far enough when he struggled to hear violent hits on the door. Boone ran from a turn just to see a locked door in his way.

    Crowman had put an additional door in the way to Revival Machine. Boone tried to use the key which he had but it was not the right one. Kicking or punching it didn¡¯t help him either.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.When his feet hurt he had realization he had to go back to Red Demise in order to get the key for that door. He ran away faster than he had arrived.

    The first thing he saw after reaching there was the broken door. And in front of its rubble, there was Red Demise who neither breathed nor stirred.

    Grief must be searching for me. Boone was sure so he started to seek for the key of outer door inside Red Demise''s clothes. He felt a key in his pant pocket. Boone was not sure if it was the right one or not but he was ready to take chance. While searching for the key, Boone saw Red Demise open his eyes abruptly.

    Shit! Boone was about to jump on his feet but Red Demise''s claw caught him by his neck. Red Demise''s eyes were glowing like Grief''s eyes. The grip tightened, making it harder for him to0 breathe.

    "Red Demise thought he could defeat me." Grief said.

    Boone caught his beak and broke it but Grief didn¡¯t flinch. Grief, who was now in Red Demise''s body, stretched his other arm and the reaper appeared in his hand.

    He is in a solid body. He can be out-powered. Boone reckoned because he had broken his beak. He stomped on Red Demise''s thin leg, breaking it like a twig.

    Red Demise loosened his grip in order to maintain balance but Boone was out already.

    He broke his hand and took over the reaper. Then chopped Red Demise''s head with it. Still he did not fall. A new head came out from the cut. But this time it was Grief''s own head.

    Boone cleaved his body from waist.

    Meanwhile Grief''s legs were re-growing. Boone took out the key from Red Demise''s lower body. Boone cut the growing body again and rushed to the outer door with the reaper.

    To his fortune, it swung open with ease. Then he was about to unlock the final door. He could not control shaking so he dropped the heavy axe before getting inside Revival Room.

    Boone soon reached in front of the machine and started it with the key which Crowman had given him. The monitor lit which said, ONE MINUTE FOR INITIALIZATION¡­

 Revival Factory (Ch. 27)

    He now had nothing to do except waiting in anxiety for the machine to work. Corner of his eye fell on the door which he had not closed. He flew to shut it but felt resistance from the other side.

    Reaper''s handle was blocking it from being closed. He tried to pull it towards him but there was another force stopping him from doing so. He spotted Grief''s hand holding axe''s other end.

    It was like tug of war with reaper for a short time. Boone let it go and heard Grief crash on the other side. Then he locked the door while Grief was regrouping his strength.

    Grief then broke the door as soon as he got on his feet.

    What he saw after intruding in was Boone, who was ready to put the letter, with his name, inside the machine.

    After centuries, Grief felt what being scared was like.

    "No!" Grief pleaded, "Please don¡¯t put it there. I ¨C I have your son. He is not dead."

    Boone got ready to drop letter inside the machine.

    "Don¡¯t do it. Otherwise I will kill your son." Grief threatened.

    He threw the letter inside the noisy machine. Machine swallowed the letter and Grief disappeared in thin air. Boone knelt on the floor with the feeling of safety. He wanted to lie on the floor and watch the ceiling for the entire night.

    Door opened with a wham.

    Old Ghost was in there. He looked beat up and hurt. Most of all, he was bleeding.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more."You are not a ghost?" Boone stood up.

    He realized what the matter was when Old Ghost''s eyes glowed like Woman in Blue''s.

    He was alive. Woman in Blue is in his body. He took longer time to process the happening. Old Ghost stretched his arm and got hold of the reaper.

    Unable to think of anything, Boone picked a letter from the tray, "Don¡¯t even think about it."

    "Don¡¯t try to trick me, Boone. You don¡¯t even know my name." she said and threw her axe toward his direction.

    Boone ducked and saved himself from the disaster.

    Missing him, reaper axe flew towards the machine then collided with it in full impact. He had expected the dumb machine to let out steam till it began to make siren noise. The noise was sharp enough to penetrate into brain through ears.

    Axe flew back to her hands after falling on the floor.

    When she was about to hit Boone with it then a net shot out from the exhaust pipe of Revival Machine. The net fell on her, trapping her in the process.

    All hail Crowman. Boone fistbumped the air. Crowman not only had added another door but also had made the machine catch the person who tried to do trick it.

    She was struggling to get out from there, with the axe out of her reach.

    Boone held it and lifted it high in the air. The reaper vanished when he was swinging it down.

    Woman laughed through the net, trying to free herself, "I own it. My axe can''t hurt me."

 Revival Factory (Ch. 28)

    Woman laughed through the net, trying to free herself, "I own it. My axe can''t hurt me."

    "ARYANNE" the machine''s robotic voice spoke.

    Her smirk was gone.

    Boone knew what it meant. He rushed towards the working table in search of pen and paper. Aryanne was already making some progress in her task.

    Boone found many papers but not a pen. Crowman had ordered to remove all the pens or pencils from the Revival Room. Now Boone didn¡¯t have many pleasant things to say about him.

    While cursing Crowman, he felt his feather inside his shirt pocket. He could use it as quill but Crowman hadn¡¯t let anyone bring bottle of ink in there.

    Boone ran towards Aryanne and plunged the feather inside her wound. He then scribbled her name on the piece of paper.

    "What will reviving me get you, Boone?" she yelled, "Revive your wife, instead. I swear I will never ever come near to you again."

    "It is called recycling." He said with heavy heart, "And I am making damn sure you never come near to me again."

    Aryanne crept out of the tent and charged towards him. By the time she made it halfway to him, Boone had tossed the letter inside Revival Machine.

    She never made it to him.

    He put the quill inside his pocket and began to search for the exit. Finding the exit door was easiest thing for him. Beside, Crowman hadn¡¯t come there without breaking any door.

    Boone walked and walked when he was out. He strolled to the places where he normally would not go. He was yet to see the people whom he had seen when he was alive. After all, it was still night.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.He watched the remains of posters which he had glued. Boone began to scrap such reminder from the pole. Because it had dried out, he used the quill to scratch it off.

    "Boone." Someone called him from behind.

    His eyes were torn to see three people behind him. And one of them was holding reaper axe.

    Boone glanced at his watch. Five minutes were still remaining in Death Window. One with the axe was same ghost who had tried to kill him in his dream. He was the ghost who had shaken hands with Aryanne because his letter was rejected for revival. Cause? Boone.

    They all were the rejected ghosts.

    Second ghost had entered inside Red Demise''s dream to know how Death Window was to be opened in Revival Factory. Getting it from Crowman was near impossible so Aryanne had made him target Red Demise''s dream.

    Third soul was the one who had killed Old Ghost and entered inside his body. After opening the death window and killing Crowman, he had left the body. Worse, they had come there to erase Boone.

    With nowhere to go, Boone took out the solid quill and jammed it inside his own ear. Its end hit his brain and he took lost his life.

    Those ghosts were furious to see how Boone slipped away from his hands.

    Boone, invisible to anyone for eternity and deprived of salivation, walked away from those ghosts. At least he was not erased¡­..

    Aryanne was right. Ghosts really wandered in the town at night.

    *************************

 Cover Up Order (Ch.1)

    Anderson Island, Washington State,

    14th April,

    Tonight Benjamin Hansen was going to be murdered and he was aware of it.

    That evening at half past four, Benjamin Hansen had come home in his long rubber gum ¨C boots, since he was a part of construction process of a government skyscraper being carried on eastern side of Anderson Island. Soon the place was going to have a skyscraper and within three decades it was going to be new Detroit. But Hansen wouldn¡¯t survive to see the day in which it would happen. Hansen had skipped his lunch and later he had wished it would have been better if he had skipped his working hour, where he had been holding long plastic pipe and filling concrete inside steel structures, instead. Anybody would have assumed he had straight come from roadwork for he had a jackhammer in his hand and white spotted black boots.

    Repair it. He was ordered for jackhammer but he was going to be murdered tonight. He is coming home to kill me. I must show some hospitality, he thought.

    He''d taken a cab from Eckenstam Johnson Road, had paid complete three dollars to the Afro American cabbie and walked inside his house with his heavy footsteps like his boot was filled with concrete mixture with pebbles. He was offered a drink from an old balding man whom he knew as Rick Tarot after he was seen but Hansen denied the offer. He kept on watching that man of seventies sit on balcony and unfold his Washington Post daily paper. Beside the glass of wine was pile of war magazines from his time.

    It was quiet strange, instead of combination of coffee with morning and newspaper; he enjoyed hard drink in evening with newspaper.

    PARANORMAL EVENTS DETECTED ALL OVER WASHINGTON.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­ Prank or Fact? ................

    A LOOKOVER AT THE HISTORY OF BERLIN WALL AND GERMANY.

    Hansen walked up to the door, climbing the steps with the heavy jackhammer, wondering how come he made it up to there.

    "Is your house on fire Mr. Firefighter?"A skinny blond teen (who had been selected for Washington Basketball Under Twenty League but soon was dropped out due to doping rule violation) mocked but the middle aged man just stared at the street lamp in the sky and some pine trees. He looked at the crowded end of street and muttered, "Tomorrow, my body shall pass from here inside a coffin."

    He unlocked the door. Hansen stepped in like he always did with ease.

    He removed his yellow helmet off his head and let it fall. He knew that after some hours his murderer was coming home. The murderer had called him earlier in the morning and had said he''ll be there by 10.

    Hansen showered for fifteen minutes to be exact and didn¡¯t use his Men''s Spice to shave like he always used to do after shower.

    Preceding it, he made his way to the kitchen, selected out some cans of beans from the refrigerator and wondered what if the murderer would like to have mutton or pork instead.

    Almost at half ¨C past eight, he prepared dinner which consisted of omelet, beans gravy and fresh pork. For the appetizer of murderer and himself he had prepared black coffee.

    At nine, the murderer was on his doorsteps and rang the doorbell. Hansen was falling asleep with his head on dining table when the noise awakened him. It was not how he intended to sleep for the last time. There were no dreams and nothing memorable. He missed the smell of his blanket, softness of his pillow and the sensation of stretching his limbs.

    Then he went downstairs to unlocked the door.

    "Prophet Marcello, I was looking for you. How come you''re¡­err...early?" Hansen questioned his murderer.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.2)

    "Prophet Marcello, I was looking for you. How come you''re¡­err...early?" Hansen questioned his murderer.

    "I wanted to gather my friends to kill some disciples. I found them earlier than I had expected, Hansen. You must be cheerful, tomorrow you will gain fortune to miss what shall happen to some of your close people."

    Hansen wondered how different had been Prophet''s voice on the phone. He was tall, skinny and looked like an albino. He looked more like an Englishman straight came from Victorian era because of a long blazer reaching down to his knees. He had worn a hat but he had brought no weapon.

    "You have got no bag with you this time?" Hansen asked in a sudden, "How are you going to take my body after I''m dead?"

    "I feel cold." Prophet said instead of responding to him.

    Hansen lit the fireplace and somehow arranged two rocking chairs to sit on. Both sat on the rocking chairs, listening to tap created by each other''s chair, with coffee mugs in hands. Prophet didn¡¯t even take a sip. Instead, he told him he could call him by any name from now.

    Nobody talked about dinner.

    "Burn the talisman Hansen. I know you''d fixed it some hours ago." Marcello said in his snake like voice.

    Little steps by steps, Hansen went towards the fireplace and threw the talisman inside the flames.

    "Don¡¯t turn Hansen, keep looking at the fireplace¡­" Marcello snapped, "Tomorrow, my friends are descending. You''re only one who knows it. You''re the sole mortal being who understands this. We''re breaking rules of God and humans are the first to be punished. You''re the first one¡­fortunate."

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon."I didn¡¯t tell anyone about the possible threats." Hansen responded.

    Marcello didn¡¯t say anything but just kept rocking.

    Benjamin heard Marcello get up, by drumming of chair''s leg on the floor. Then he heard nothing which he could conclude as footsteps. He soon figured out Marcello using his telephone.

    "Keaton¡­" he hissed, "The woman¡­"

    Is Keaton next? Hansen presumed lightening quick. Whom is he referring as woman?

    "Last time we had landed, many innocents were slain and when we had descended for the first time, one innocent was punished till death to ensure your imaginary faith."

    Marcello waited for the reply from other end.

    Marcello had pulled down the red plastic receiver. Hansen could hear Web''s clear yells from the other end, "You asshole. Fucker maniac!"

    Marcello hung up and was about settle down the receiver when Hansen spoke, "If you want to punish or kill me, do it straight away." He no longer was interested in watching his talisman being melted by flames.

    Marcello spoke nothing. He thought he had heard sobbing from behind following those words.

    Prophet Marcello from paradise was crying behind a human being.

    I am Satan¡­

 Cover Up Order (Ch.3)

    12TH APRIL,

    Some days ago Hansen had been like who he was. In the mid of April''s first week, Hansen had been paid with salary from construction in cash which he intended to spend all of it for his addiction ¨C nicotine. The man would normally take up to two packets of cigarettes on day to day basis. In work also he was used to of smoking which the higher authorities had strict sanctions on.

    "Don¡¯t smoke. The piece of shit can fall in concrete mixture. Next time, if you''re caught red handed, you''d be gone!"

    But Hansen still had the same job.

    Benjamin Hansen would often think what would happen if he spread the concrete on engineer''s face and let it dry. The man would look like a statue made as condolence for an honorable person. Addicted of thinking, his cupboard was full of un-prescribed antidepressants.

    In leisure, Hansen was either found lighting tip of his cigarette or lighting woods in the fireplace. The man had a peculiar habit which made him need to get warmth all the time his mind was unoccupied (no matter how hot it was outside in summer).

    But something was waiting for him that night. The misery was meant for him.

    Despite his habit, last couple of days had been a different issue. The fireplace was left untouched. Christmas was, by far, too far from April and neither Hansen had feeling of un-wellness within him. Nor he lacked woods and twigs to light. The habit of his childhood was fading and looked like it was nearing to an end like his enthusiasm to use his thoughts.

    But for two nights, he had been hearing sound of tramps within his house for a split of second. The sound would emerge almost at midnight which was sound of someone take long breath and hard tramp on the floor. It was identical to a porter slamming his rucksack or a wrestler slamming his opponent to knock his ass out. Then would be heard a sharp cat like sound for some more seconds. The high pitched voice could only be of kittens or a tom cat, he guessed. Still Hansen couldn¡¯t figure out where the hell had the cat made its residence. The hour hand in the clock was about to touch two and Hansen still was trying to keep his eyelids shut (for the love of God Almighty) until he would dream of something he wanted. Lucid dreams were what he had all wanted, for his lifetime, but that night either he wanted to sleep or shut the cat. His lack of sleep made him feel more like an Insomnia patient but this man didn¡¯t need any prescribed sleeping pills to get attached in his bed with eyes shut and lucid dreams within his head. REM Matters¡­Peace matters¡­.sleep matters. All he needed was some gulps of whiskey downstairs in the refrigerator.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.The moment he got downstairs, the sound of cat was audible clear and the sound came from the fireplace which had been shut for the couple of days. Now he didn¡¯t need any whiskey but the source of sound.

    Hansen grabbed the key and then unlocked the door of fireplace with no trouble to see Mr. Puss but what he saw was what made him sigh in disbelief. The sound wasn¡¯t of any cat; it never had been, after all. They were agonized shrieks of a blonde ranging age between 9 and 12. She had a short hair, like a model had straight come from a makeover session, but her mouth was covered by a duct tape some ropes fastened her hands and legs.

    He couldn¡¯t believe what he had just seen.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.4)

    In anxiety, Hansen made a ridiculous error. He pulled out the duct tape from her mouth instead of untying her hands. She right away launched the piece of cloth inside her mouth. Before watching her breathe, she screamed as loud as she could, "Help me! Help! He is going to kill me. He''s kidnapped me! HEEELLLPPPP!"

    What the hell are you saying? I just saw you¡­how can I kidnap you?

    She screamed for help twice and for help. In the night time the sound of scream prolonged all around thin air.

    The sound could have been heard from half a mile away which could eventually lead to an old man, suffering from Insomnia (who could have fallen asleep without taking doses of sleeping pills) to rise from his bed and wonder what the hell of sound it in fact was.

    Someone in the area could have taken it as a wolf howling, hyena laugh or a child''s shout at his/ her best. It would matter to them if the scream had erupted from throat of a male or female. It was only the voice which mattered.

    "I didn¡¯t kidnap you!" Hansen bellowed but his voice, comparing to the girl''s, was just like singing in front of an amplifier and hoping someone behind the amplifier would listen as well as respond to him. The fear made Hansen slip and crash on the glass table which he had purchased from a local furniture shop spending a total of thousand dollars. The scream mixed up with the sound of broken glass. It would make a bystander, a druggist or an awaken man to think a terrible thing was happening in between walls of Hansen''s house.

    A child rape? A kidnap? Or a murder?

    Hansen wasn¡¯t in mood of anyone of those. He just wanted her get shut up, which by far was looking impossible from every avenue he had thought with rationality.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.The girl hopped out, with her feet tied, but with the hands which were not fastened at all. She could feel her palm had turning numb and she had almost forgotten there are fingers (those also moved) in the tip of palm.

    Hansen, however got up, not knowing how many glass pieces had gone inside his back, through the cotton shirt. His thighs also had been cut, like he was flogged, through the Denim shorts he always had believed to be rough and hard to tear.

    She didn¡¯t bother to look at her feet. Her attempt to run crashed along with her body; face first, on the hard floor. She bled and panicked even more after it. She hopped like a bullfrog with both legs tied up and made her way to the door.

    He stumbled to notice there were no more screams in the house. Now she was all focused on the round door knob which required to be moved clockwise. But the easier task couldn¡¯t get tougher with numb fingers which wouldn¡¯t move. Even she knew her scream wouldn¡¯t work as Open Sesame as it had done in story he had read Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.

    She either required fingers or shoulder strong enough to dislocate the door off the wooden frame and nails. Alas, none of them belonged to her.

    With more misfortune to pile on, Hansen had got both of them fine. He could feel himself fly shoulder first towards back of a girl like he was professional NFL athlete. The next thing he realized was that the shoulder tackle had knocked the hell out of her.

    Her breath stopped and eyes rolled backwards. For some ten seconds she stopped breathing. Perhaps he had tacked her as hard as he could. She almost had died.

    But most importantly, she was under his control.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.5)

    He made her lie by her chest in an awkward posture, pulled her arms back and tied them with the same rope she had untied (maybe the sweat in her hand had turned the nylon rope slippery as it always does and she had managed to untie).

    He turned her and managed to find the duct tape piece which was still sticky and got attached to his finger tips. He hated such situation ever since he had learnt how to repair paper using tapes. But putting tape on someone''s mouth was his first time.

    After he was done, he gasped and started to wipe sweat off his wrinkled forehead.

    The girl was gaining some consciousness and now was moving a bit. What would he answer if someone asked him about the shrieks coming from his home last night?

    He couldn¡¯t say he was singing or his wife was yelling at him via telephone and he had let the speakers do rest of voice amplification job.

    Or what if someone came with the question any second?

    Why did she say I kidnapped her? How in the earth she''s in my house? This all was scary, strange and most of all, troublesome.

    He decided to put her back from where she had come. He dragged her and forced her with full discomfort inside the fireplace, no matter how painful it looked.

    After the door of fireplace was shut, Hansen heard sound of people outside his home. He could hear, "Somebody screamed here!"

    "What happened here?"

    "Edward, what was the noise?"

    Hansen felt awful like he never had felt before. What if there came knock on Hansen''s door? What if anyone deduced screams and broken table to a story of crime?

    Some people were still murmuring outside and Hansen was sitting near the door with his ear attached hard on it. He thought the door had heartbeat of its own. It seemed like his veins had taken enough of blood pumping.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation."Let''s ask Hansen ¡­sound had come from this area." someone said ¨C maybe he was Joey Tarot, only son of retired army officer Rick Tarot - who had fought with honor in many wars.

    "I bet he hasn¡¯t noticed such sound after all. He hasn¡¯t even lit the bulb. Poor drunkard." a voice came and it didn¡¯t matter to him whoever had called him with such underwhelming words. He sneaked through the keyhole and he saw some women in shorts join the conversation with the boys. They must have been some local prostitutes who perhaps had been hired by bunch of teen lads fond of weed and excessive dopamine addiction.

    It looked as if he was now out of suspicion range.

    While wiping sweat off his wrinkled forehead, leaning on the locked door, one thought haunted more than the potential danger of being caught for an undone crime, "How is she here?"

    Like a paranoid, he would look though the keyhole in order to spot any sort of peculiar movement outside his house. Even an hour later he couldn''t discover any. Later his mind was filled with an idea that he can never find something utterly outside till she had the mysterious unconscious girl inside his own house. Hansen''s pant was wet. It left him wondering if it was sweat or he had pissed in his pants. Last time, it had happened when he was in an elementary school in Tacoma.

    He still had black and white photos of himself with his other friends promoting Enhancement of Creativity Campaign when they had joined Oregon University until most of those were expelled by the University for having using weed in the university area.

    He stood up and sneaked through the fireplace''s keyhole. She was still unconscious. I can kill her right now¡­she would not yell this time. Do it Hansen. His sight then fell on broken glass which looked almost like a knife, or any other murder weapon.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.6)

    Somebody had told truth, perhaps his step mother (who was called Kimberly Woods Hansen, as far as he could remember) that it hurts when something is gone. The chunks of glasses were now gone from his body and now he thought it would have been a lot better if he hadn¡¯t been plucking them out for the whole night.

    He was sweating in unusual way and what else can hurt a fresh injury than his own salty sweat. Downstairs, everything was cleaned up. In the morning he had figured out his flower vase, glass table, China clay vase and a porcelain nude woman was missing. All had been broken and now lay somewhere in trash can waiting for governmental sanitary van to approach and pick the pieces of them. While cleaning, he had found a tooth. Small one. He had knocked her frontal tooth out.

    He couldn¡¯t remember how much time did it take for him to clean the mess, including stains of blood he had been scrubbing most of the time, whishing nobody comes to visit him next morning.

    In sleepless night, his mind al had almost turned inside out. As an Aquarius man he was imagining things he hadn¡¯t thought he could ever imagine. He visited the fireplace for about a dozen of time within some hours before the hour hand turned six, in hope no child would come from there bellowing, "You fucking kidnapped me!"

    Benjamin felt as if he had heard sound of a car''s engine shut down in front of his house. The car shocked him and the person in it was nothing less than a nightmare. What he saw next from the window made him feel miserable. In a second he put his hand under the pillow and pulled out his unused Glock 26 Pistol which he had bought because it was cheaper than others. He had wished he wouldn¡¯t have to use it when he had purchased it about a year ago.

    I don¡¯t know this person. He thought as he heard heavy knocks on the door. It sounded like the man outside was intending to break the door. It sounded like he was kicking on the door with heavy soled leather boot.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there."Hansen! Unlock the door!" the man yelled from outside.

    "What do you want?" Hansen said instead of pretending he wasn¡¯t in the house. He had his Glock fixed on the door. If anything went wrong from the man outside, he had made up his mind, he wouldn¡¯t even think twice to shoot the bastard through the door.

    "I said open it!" sound came louder and so did knocks. The outsider was kicking the door for real now.

    "You keep kicking my door and I''ll kick your damn balls out, you faggot." was rep

    from Hansen.

    "Okay¡­open the door or I''ll shoot you scumbag!" the roaring voice said.

    I can do it before you even think about it.

    "I''m Tim Deighan. I''m from law and enforcement side, a cop." Mr. Deighan calmly responded, "Now don¡¯t panic and open the door."

    But this made him panic even more. A cop had arrived to his house and he had made dim-witted mistake. Instead of behaving like nothing wrong had happened, he behaved like nothing right had happened to him from his birth.

    He couldn¡¯t shoot a cop. He didn¡¯t know if Tim Deighan had come alone or with some other men too (but he couldn¡¯t hear anybody else outside). Shooting a cop could get him lynched or get him shot right away if discovered red handed. Either way, he would have to mess with his life. On the other hand, even though he was innocent, charge of abduction cost way lesser than life imprisonment or death sentence.

    Hansen put his gun inside the drawer and headed towards the door. He felt sorry for having his gun left inside the drawer then after.

    Before Hansen could unlock the door, the door flung open inside, its wooden part got in contact with his forehead and what came next was a 280 pounds man with a Glock Pistol gripped in his hand, aimed straight at him.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.7)

    The Glock''s nozzle was pressed against his skinny vampire like cheek and he kept squinting down to its nozzle hoping nothing would come out of there as a result of his foolishness. He couldn¡¯t dare to look up at Deighan''s face.

    "What did you just put in here?" the middle aged cop with heavy arms and fancy Stalin like mustache said. For few seconds, Hansen presumed Stalin ¨C one of the most hated historical figures, had come from straight from his grave just in order to scare the daylights out of him.

    "N ¨C N ¨C N Nothing Mr ¨C" he managed to mutter.

    "I heard you shut the damn drawer you skinny." he snapped and he scanned the entire room which looked normal from every perspective. "Room''s clean but your clothes stink." Then Deighan pushed him hard, "Something is unusual here Benjamin Hansen, isn¡¯t it?"

    Hansen could spot his TPD Police Badge other than his pistol. For some seconds Deighan (who looked like he was wearing a fishing hat instead of sergeant hat) look all around and then started smelling the air, making a squeamish sound.

    "Where''s Marcello?" he snapped like he was inside a dark interrogation room and like Hansen was suspect of a misanthropist act.

    "Who ¨C who - Marcello?" Hansen breathed out like he was doing nothing more but whispering in thin air in front of a man who was double of his weight.

    Both men then heard a heavy sound of something hit on the floor upstairs by something. In act of defense, Hansen did not even move his lips for he doubted what was source of sound upstairs, right above them. It seemed like somebody was stomping upstairs.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.He doubted someone was doing it.

    "Marcello," Deighan said, ignoring the sound right above them, "a man who walks in cloak, hood and has a rucksack on his shoulder and, most importantly, almost every night since few days he''s been spotted here. Every night¡­every night he gets inside your house, each time with the sack on his shoulder¡­" Deighan whispered.

    Hansen knew nothing what he was talking about. He had no idea about anyone entering in his house except a girl who had come from nowhere.

    Upstairs, the girl could see a police car parked outside the house she was trapped in, through the glass window. The van would never have come in her sight if she hadn¡¯t heard sound of engine stop. She had to squint to her left, almost rolling her pupils back inside her eye sockets. It was somewhat like she used to pretend like a ghost by rolling her eyes upside when she wasn¡¯t confined. She could hear the cop was shouting, "Open the door." She could be saved if the cop heard her. She couldn¡¯t shout but could still stomp her tied feet. She yelled but she also knew no matter how loud she attempted to shout, her voice wasn¡¯t even going to reach in next room. She stomped the wooden floor.

    She did it twice.

    Then she didn¡¯t count and thought she had gone insane.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.8)

    "As far as I know, my door''s well locked all the time." Hansen said, squinting at the drawer where his gun was.

    For the last sentence, he didn¡¯t have to explain much. He just had proven it. Officer also stared at him like Hansen was getting way too humorous for the situation. Hansen giggled and the badass bully officer kept looking at childish like Hansen''s bizarre behavior.

    "CCTV footages never lie¡­" Deighan grabbed his collar and almost lifted him up by it. He guessed he had lifted him. "Four four nights, he''s been visiting you¡­and guess what, each time he had a rucksack with him and you say ¨C"

    Officer Deighan was interrupted by huge sound upstairs in rhythm. Somebody was up in there. Sound of taping again came in same rhythm as it had been before. She had started to tackle on the glass window now which sounded like his house was being broken down. Doing so produced more serious sound than some stomps and jumps on the floor.

    Deighan pulled Hansen towards the source of sound.

    Hansen felt miserable. He imagined how different the current situation would have been if he hadn¡¯t opted to put his gun inside the drawer.

    He couldn¡¯t outsmart Deighan and he couldn¡¯t even imagine of out - powering him.

    Every step of both men inched Hansen towards fear of being caught apparently red handed. Both men spoke nothing until they were on the passageway. For briefest moment, both men had forgotten about Marcello and his rucksacks'' connection with frequent visits in his home.

    The only thing to break silence between them was Deighan''s order, looking at the locked door (from where tapping sound still came) "Open."

    Looking at the bunch of keys, Deighan barked for sometimes which he couldn¡¯t hear and pushed weak Hansen in sense of command.

    He realized the same key could also be used as weapon for a fat man like Deighan. The stomach full of fat could easily be pierced even by the blunt key. But he didn¡¯t do it. He instead pretended like he couldn¡¯t find the right key but it couldn¡¯t make Deighan to forget about sound and re discuss about Marcello.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original."Hurry up dork!"

    Hansen nod and with shivering fingers, pushed the door open. Then he was pushed by Deighan inside, almost knocked him off his feet.

    But there wasn¡¯t anyone inside.

    Deighan looked at Benjamin''s pale face turn reddish. But he didn¡¯t stop at there. He looked around, checked under bed and everywhere he could reach. What he saw unusual there was a rocking chair which was rocking and tapped on the floor with gentle strokes. The rocking chair was Hansen''s which had been in the room for a week.

    "Where did she go?" Hansen wondered.

    Deighan acted like nothing had happened and said, "Listen to me¡­if you see this Marcello, whom you have already been meeting, inform me. I don¡¯t want any excuses. Your bag is full of fortune. I don¡¯t have arrest warrant right now. Nor I do have any concrete proof to prove it. But what took place is for real. He may come here tonight too ¨C"

    "What if he doesn¡¯t? What if I still say I don¡¯t have any clue who you are talking about?"

    "You are obsessed with probabilities, aren¡¯t you?"

    "Not as much as you are obsessed with a non existing person."

    "His name is Marcello." Deighan started taking some steps back, still hesitating to make his mind for an exit.

    Some seconds later Deighan turned back and marched towards the stairs like he was still in police drill.

    "Why have you come alone to inquire me?" Hansen interrupted his walk. He didn¡¯t stop but grinned and disappeared down the stairs. For a minute, he waited for the car''s engine to start again until the bully cop left.

    After Deighan''s departure, the only job, he was focused in was to find out where the child had vanished.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.9)

    She better get sucked in by the fucking chimney, he wandered to search for the little girl in the house which he had thought was a small one. His thinking ability had given up on his head for a long time. He had sensation slight breeze hit his face, drying the sweat of his face through the window. The curtains waved like they were calling him. The window was unlocked and as far as he remembered, he wasn¡¯t the one who had done it.

    Hansen rushed and looked down through the window like he was going to vomit his digestive enzymes from there.

    The child was down on the bushed without any movement (at least he couldn¡¯t spot any from the height of fifteen feet). She had fallen from the window while she was tackling it to cause sound.

    Hansen guessed she was dead but saw her try to get up. She was still alive and looked as if no harm had done because of Hansen''s love for bushes. He wanted to kill her there but he thought of an idea which would leave both of them unharmed. He didn¡¯t need to think for this matter twice. Once he was done with the little girl he could he could find who Marcello was and why he was coming to his house.

    Five minutes later, the girl was locked down in the basement which looked more like a dungeon without any window and where she could neither tackle nor stomp. She could do it if she wanted to have herself injured on the concrete.

    He looked at the fireplace without ashes with question in his mind. When he will be able to light it up again?

    A second later he wanted the child dead.

    Nothing happened for the rest of day. Neither he left his house nor did he see anybody come in there. This time, he didn¡¯t put his Glock 26 in his drawer. Instead he found out the silencer and had affixed it on the nozzle. On hourly basis, he would go to the basement and sometimes made her eat something under his supervision and again taped her mouth back. He didn¡¯t want to have conversation with the girl and guessed she didn¡¯t want either.

    He didn¡¯t care, now, where she had come from because he was going to leave her in I ¨C 5 Highway down in a minor route which connected with Portland. He didn¡¯t want her to come back in her house with some cops when she was retrieved with allegation of being abducted by hi

    Journey from Anderson Island to Portland from I ¨C 5 was going to take a long time. He decided he was not going to step in Portland but was going to leave her some miles inside Oregon State. Throughout the journey, she was destined to be blindfolded and he wasn¡¯t going to be the one who was going to remove them as they reached in there.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.For the entire day, Hansen hadn¡¯t slept. He just wished his thousands of eye blinks would recover his sleep but he knew it was nothing more than another insane idea. Making it worse, he had to drive on I ¨C 5 almost for the whole night in his old Ford which had required too much maintenance in the past. It was a second hand car which he had bought just for $15000 just in order to fulfill his desire to be owner of car. The second hand car was had no date tagged in it showing for how long its previous owner had been driving it. The model looked to me first manufactured in middle of seventies.

    Hansen didn¡¯t even remember talking to her because they never had. The child was sure Hansen was the one who had kidnapped her. Every time Hansen had passed through her sight, she would follow him with her raged pupils until he was out of her vision range.

    The child could even spot a vitiligo on Hansen''s left wrist which used to be hidden beneath silvered colored Quartz watch. Looking at the vitiligo would accidentally make her look at the watch which would make her aware of the time she had spent inside the basement.

    It was almost ten at night when Hansen made up his mind to walk with her in the automobile. Till the time, he was looking for traces of Marcello. He hoped he would come but nobody came for the exact anticipated moment.

    Even if Marcello would come, he was going to discover a deserted house.

    Hansen thought of a better idea. Talking to her made sense now. . He had thought Marcello to be the reason she was in here. Maybe the rucksack had the child stuffed like cotton in there. Getting rid of her was just one half of the job. The rest of work was to deal with interrogations of Officer Deighan who had said he would come following day again to ask about Marcello. Hansen wouldn¡¯t be surprised to see him arrive with arrest warrant next day.

    An imagination lifeless piece of paper made him shiver with the thought of bars in front of him. It seemed scarier when he thought of a black cloth falling on his head and the land under his soles just held tight courtesy to a lever.

    He removed tape and pulled out stuffed handkerchief from her mouth. Each drop of her saliva was soaked by the cotton handkerchief and on her red mouth walls were small cotton buds looking more like maggot eggs. She was in desperate need of water but the bitch would not beg.

    After she drank half bottle of water Hansen thought she was ready to talk, "What''s your name?"

 Cover Up Order (Ch.10)

    After she drank half bottle of water Hansen thought she was ready to talk, "What''s your name?"

    She didn¡¯t make any sound except sound of gulps.

    "Screw the name, who brought you here?" he snapped while she kept looking at him with every bit of contempt within her.

    "You little slut. You''re lucky , I ain''t hurting you anymore." he said and looked at a missing lower frontal tooth.

    He hadn¡¯t even taped her mouth back when he heard knocks on the door. Seconds later, the sound of knocks were followed by the noise of doorbell. He had no idea when was the last time his doorbell had rang. In fact, he had almost forgotten about it.

    "Marcello?" he asked himself.

    The person outside was likely to be Marcello. He clutched his gun and moved his attention to the door from the girl. The girl looked pale when she spotted a gun in the same hand. This time, no tapes were required to keep her silent.

    He inched towards the door and without even thinking for the second time, unlocked the door and aimed on the face of person outside.

    The man standing outside looked to be wealthy man by his shirt and pant he wore. The man wasn¡¯t in cloak and didn¡¯t look mysterious from any avenue. Neither he had any rucksack with him but he could see a medium sized briefcase raised along with his hand in gesture of surrender.

    Can he be Marcello?

    The man was almost of his age and perhaps was half a foot shorter than he was. Standing on the stairs down the door made him look like a hobbit or a leprechaun.

    "Give me back my daughter. I''ve got the ransom as you had told me¡­" he mumbled like he was sobbing. Slight rain and flashes on the sky made Hansen feel D¨¦j¨¤ vu.

    Looking at Hansen who wasn¡¯t responding, the man nod and squinted at the briefcase, "It''s a million. As much as you had demanded.¡±

    Hansen was laughing stock. A MILLION! And he was going to dump her somewhere in I ¨C 5 tonight! For a moment, Hansen couldn¡¯t stop himself from falling on greed. He had upper hand on the condition. He was accompanied by gun, daughter and the terrified man along with the briefcase.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation."Please¡­" the man said and Hansen knew he was weeping.

    "Daddy!" the child''s shout came from inside by hearing her father''s voice. Still see couldn¡¯t see him because her father was blocked by Hansen.

    But he didn¡¯t care for the child''s shout.

    He grabbed handle of briefcase, lowered his gun to the floor and cleared the way. For short period of his life Hansen was an abductor.

    Gratefully, the man ran inside and hugged his child by adding more tears in the eyes as soon as he had spotted her. He wasn¡¯t comfortable to see her feet tied up but was grateful she was alive.

    Hansen had no idea where her father had come from and handed him juts a million. When he sneaked by opening the briefcase the piles of dollars scared him and almost make him petrified. He kept looking at the bundles of arranged money in dim light of lightening. He could see the light from sky fall on the cheek of old man wrapped around his daughter.

    Hansen felt like kick in his gut. He couldn¡¯t ignore the feeling because it is human instinct when the danger is detected by human body.

    "Come on! Daddy''s gonna take you home." Bughaloo said and got ready to move on with his daughter.

    The moment Mr. Bughaloo and his daughter had turned their faces at Hansen, they understood the gun wasn¡¯t pointed at the floor anymore as it was. It was partially pointed at them like Hansen was doing it with half heart.

    Hansen had put briefcase down but not the gun which made Bughloo''s suspicion grow. He still stood on the way with his face very similar to a man just released from mental asylum.

    "I didn¡¯t kidnap your daughter¡­" he managed to say at him, wondering if it was right moment to say or not. He didn¡¯t even have idea if he should be telling this looking at the million lying on floor.

    Bughaloo was ready to leave and he had left him so much money which would take him another three decades to earn by his labor job.

    He made up his mind. Money was going to stay with him and, for some times, the giver as well¡­

 Cover Up Order (Ch.11)

    Bughaloo could smell Hansen''s intentions way before he had made up a firm decision. But Hansen neither raised his Glock nor raised his voice, "I didn¡¯t kidnap her. I don¡¯t have any idea how she came here. You won''t believe but she was in fireplace last night and the rest from there is very strange¡­. I want to explain you other thing before you two leave this place ¨C"

    "It doesn¡¯t matter what you have to say. Whatever you will say here will be nothing more than your imagination. You gave me the address on phone this morning¡­Ben Hansen." Bughaloo said, still clutching his daughter''s arm.

    After Hansen knew Bughaloo knew him by his name then he had no other option left in his mind. For whole day, he was inside his house and he didn¡¯t even have a single clue when he had used telephone to call someone, let alone anyone could have done it.

    Hansen was in conspiracy and he was aware of it now. Whether Marcello was behind it or anyone but he was doing this thing with perfection.

    "You''ve got money and she''s safe. I don¡¯t want anything better than this and don¡¯t want negotiation to go worse either. At least, let her go and you and I will be the ones to talk about what you are trying to explain right now." Bughaloo said persuading.

    "No, not until I think it''s better time to let you two go. Till that time, you''re my hostages here¡­err¡­guests maybe," Hansen made a bizarre offer, "and if you two dare to move then I''ll shoot both of you right here." Now he showed them his Glock 26. He knew if he let them go then they were sure to report everything to police.

    His biggest problem was them knowing his name.

    Hansen spotted a rectangular bump in pant pocket of Bughaloo. He had brought his cell phone to there.

    "Take your mobile phone out right now! NOW!" Hansen roared, walked backwards and locked the door.

    "Smash the phone on the floor now." he commanded with his voice raised much more higher than his previous words.

    Looking Bughaloo hesitate to do it he pointed his gun at his daughter and said, "Do it¡­or you know what can be done with this¡­"

    Bughaloo''s face looked as if there was not a single drop of blood left within it. The vampire like man raised his stick like hands, with mobile, but smashed on Hansen''s face instead.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.Whether he had broken his phone or not but it had broken his nostril in some scale. He just had heard bone break and blood oozed berserk from the left nostril.

    Being hit on nostril stunned him. He didn¡¯t know whether he still had grip on his gun or not but he sensed both in attempt to break - out.

    You can fix your nose later. You have money! He convinced himself as realized he still had gun in his hand. Something hard hit on Hansen''s hand. Bughaloo was using his childhood''s favorite baseball bat with red YANKEES imprint. Perhaps Bughaloo wanted Hansen to leave his gun but he didn¡¯t lose it. Or maybe he had swung the bat to fracture his back or break his head.

    Anyways he didn¡¯t do any of the work.

    Blows stopped and his right arm felt nothing. He had no sense if he was moving it or not. He just switched gun and held it in left hand.

    He saw Bughaloo struggling too to rotate the tight door knob which had been jammed since weeks due to oxidation. Last night the child had struggled and tonight it was the father who did it.

    Hansen was on his knees but still the situation wasn¡¯t even for Bughaloo. He again raised his gun, with moving hand, and aimed at them with little to no accuracy. One second nozzle was fixed on daughter and on the next second on father. Inaccuracy was what he felt at the time along with pain.

    He didn¡¯t have to say anything in the moment. Everybody understands language of violence.

    But Bughaloo didn¡¯t stop. His attempt to unlock it was still on. The fear didn¡¯t exist for him because since the moment he had entered in the house, only thing Hansen had done was threatening. Hansen wasn¡¯t responding to them in the way a criminal responded.

    Other person, other day, Bughaloo would have been killed.

    "You!" Hansen screamed and pressed the trigger, hoping the bullet would hit somewhere near his shoulder. But it hit on the chest of fragile man. Bughaloo gasped with pierced lungs and knelt for some seconds with eyes looking for nothing. Hansen saw Bughaloo''s white shirt slowly turn into dark red.

    Within matter of seconds Bughaloo fell on the floor face first and it was the last movement he ever did.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.12)

    He didn¡¯t regret doing the murder. The blood from Bughaloo''s chest flowed and reached at his daughter''s feet. The child looked blank and petrified as if she was the one killed instead of her father.

    Due to fear she vomited her stomach acid and semi digested bread pieces out. Then she only vomited stomach air out before she started to lose her consciousness. Then the horrific event made her fall beside her father, with half of her face painted by blood.

    Hansen was taking long breathes like he was having Asthma attack and he had no idea for how long he hadn¡¯t even blinked his eyes. If the girl hadn¡¯t passed out then she would have seen Hansen gazing at them with ping pong ball sized eyes.

    He felt the fear of being caught even though he had put silencer on the gun''s nozzle. The sound which gun had made was equivalent to sound of bomb blast in television shows. It was just like he had seen Gulf War in television. The blood was now leaking to the doorsteps outside from the gap. He knew how hard it was to remove blood stains from white painted concrete stairs.

    He pulled dead Bughaloo and attempted to stop blood from going out. Deighan would not feel delighted to see Hansen''s doorsteps stained by blood when he would come. He had a plan for it too but now he had to manage corpse somewhere.

    He thought how easy it would have been for him if he had a big plastic sack where he could put the little old hobbit in. He moved on, almost threw up like the child, and grabbed arm of Bughaloo and pulled the man up to waist level.

    Blood still ran out without any halt but somehow he turned him over and avoided more blood to come in contact with the floor.

    Hansen turned off the lights of the room and then he ran to the basement imagining he would get shovel to bury the body. He held the shovel by his right hand and he felt the pain caused by baseball bat''s strike.

    Holding the shovel was painful. Digging the pit, all by him, of size enough to put a man in was going to be nothing more than physical punishment to him. He held the shovel and made his way to the garden when he started to feel rain drops on him.

    He didn¡¯t even think for a second and started using his spade like an insane man on the hard ground. Each time he had managed to displace some amount of mud he would start to clutch his arm and then roar in agony. He attempted twice but his active hand had given up. For five minutes he was trying to dig a pit but couldn¡¯t even make a pit enough to fit two soccer balls, let alone the human.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.He knew he couldn¡¯t bury the man there. It would have been nothing more than insanity to follow traditional manner of hiding murder. He sat on the wet grass and on disposed mud to take breather. Hansen had suddenly turned insane and much more violent than he had ever imagined.

    He left the heavy shovel there along with the small pit in there as he realized the girl was just unconscious due to trauma. For such a long time, he had forgotten about her presence and had witnessed her father''s murder.

    While running to the locked front door, Hansen questioned himself if he had locked all the windows too or not. Had the girl broken the glass window and escaped?

    Each dig of shovel made the doubt within him fainter. Convincing himself looked easier with a heavy shovel in his hands. When he rotated the door knob with his slipper hand, he hoped he was right.

    He bumped inside his house like he was attempting to run in a marathon. He had turned off the lights and his eyes couldn¡¯t adjust in the darkness (for he had come from moonlight outside). The worst, he couldn¡¯t find the switch before something found him. He had just locked the door back when something metallic hit on his stomach with heavy force.

    He wasn¡¯t sure what he was hit with but had clear idea regarding who was behind this blow. The child was now conscious and was trying to hit him with anything within her reach. Those little arms had wrath driving themselves.

    He didn¡¯t know what objects were coming at him and had no option other than to save his head. Hansen switched the bulb on then saw a furious child''s face covered in her father''s blood. Maybe she had been hugging his dead father by wishing she might save him.

    And most critical thing among everything, she had Hansen''s gun with her. The little finger struggled to get wrapped around the trigger.

    Hansen had left the gun inside!

    At last she had found something which could make him plead for mercy.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.13)

    It was for sure she wanted to kill him and for this time she had a gun with silencer affixed on the nozzle. There was no chance for somebody to hear the gunshot and come to check what was going on. She could kill him and get away with it without any legal action upon her.

    "Leave it! Drop the gun darling." Hansen didn¡¯t care what he had said as he saw the sobbing 3.5 ft girl, covered in blood and puke, with trembling hand intending to fire any moment. Hansen thought she had pressed the trigger when she moved forwards.

    "Careful! It''s not a toy! It works!" he screamed. Hansen covered his face with his hands.

    "Bring him back to life." she snapped.

    "What?" Hansen narrowed his eyes with his arms still in front of his face. He could feel his right arm hurt.

    "Bring me my dad back!" she now commanded like she was no more a child but acted like a wife whose husband had just been murdered.

    She no more sobbed and the gun no more trembled. Each of Hansen''s steps was followed by the gun''s nozzle.

    "Bring him back!" she yelled, pushing her belly back with mouth wide apart.

    "He''s dead my child. There''s no way I can bring him back." Hansen said, still with his hands held in air but this time, they searched something now.

    She grinned so hard that her head shivered and some veins bumped out from nowhere on the red face. Then silence followed them.

    "There''s no way dear¡­he''s gone¡­" Hansen whispered, locking his eyes with the child''s. He still was search of light switch, "It''s too late."

    Hansen switched off the bulb by his ring finger and in a mili - second moved out of the way. He heard gunshot''s sound along with the sparkling light from the gun. If it had been a second late then it would have either hit his genitals or lower abdomen. Either ways, it would have been a difficult situation for him to be in.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.She couldn¡¯t see now and she wasn¡¯t tall enough to switch on the lights back again. She fired blind in darkness, hoping with each shot she would get Hansen.

    Terror struck her when Hansen hit her head so bad from darkness that she even stopped seeing lightening outside. Perhaps he had blinded her for a while.

    Hansen moved his hand on the floor in search of the gun until he got a firm grip on it. Hansen tapped it on his other hand to confirm what it was. He got up lightening fast and immediately went towards the switch.

    Then a terrifying imagination struck him. He imagined someone from outside Hansen''s shadow killing the little girl from through the window curtains. He didn¡¯t want anybody to see it.

    In the moonlight he could see the child crawl. He took a long breathe and attempted to remember everything she had done to him. Every single thing which would make his pent ¨C up aggression within him to come out.

    Every single reason which would give him reason to kill her. Hansen turned cold at the time and for a while he assumed he had kidnapped her.

    Then he emptied the remaining bullets inside her body. He looked at the sparkles and smelled gunpowder all around the place. He smelled combined aroma of blood, gunpowder and rain. He watched her take last breathes in agony. Sound of her trying to breathe was purely horrific and could make anybody feel nausea.

    He witnessed the child sleep along with her father on the shared pile of blood.

    Hansen dropped his gun then he unintentionally knelt down in mixed feeling of having two people killed within half an hour. He didn¡¯t know what to do for the bodies and odor. He didn¡¯t know what he would tell Deighan about Marcello next morning.

    He didn¡¯t know but he had started to weep and had started repenting unintentional for intentional sins.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.14)

    Hansen realized, the following morning, some sleep was still surviving within him. He felt delighted because his eyes were ready to be closed for sometimes after two of the worst days of his entire life. He didn¡¯t know if it was his sleeping pills or something else which had caused him to lie in his bed till 9:30. He had slept at four after he had done the rest of his cover ¨C up order his mind had given to him. He had a red bucket of dark red enamel in the basement (mixed with mud), which partially was poured on the laminated floor. Overnight he was now an owner of pet cat and its all four paws were soaked in the same red color. The traces of red paws were all over the house. This was all because, last night, he couldn¡¯t scrub the blood clean so he had to make excuse to Deighan that his cat had ruined his painting''s plan.

    He did not give a damn about bodies and did not care about the money too. He thought he had made a wise decision by not hiding money inside the house when he yawned all the way to downstairs.

    The rest of his sleep within him flew away as he saw his house all messed up. The room which he had cleaned and arranged looked nothing less than a junkyard. He was shocked to see collection of his pots broken, his favorite novels on the floor and furniture broken down.

    For the next few minutes he kept wandering in all rooms of his house just to discover everything which had turned messy overnight. It seemed like robbery had happened there and Hansen hadn¡¯t even heard a bit of it in his sleep. He hadn¡¯t even heard a single China ¨C Clay shatter.

    But who could have done it and why? From the window, he saw his random pits dug on garden like somebody had wanted to botch his greenery. It did look as if someone was digging in search of something there.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.He found his pet cat dead on the floor with the vertebrate broken¡­like somebody had stomped the life out of it. Only a heavy man could do it in a single stomp.

    A minute later he heard his doorbell ring. Again.

    APPROX 1:00 AM,

    The same rural block was shared by Stanley Peplinski and Benjamin Hansen. Peplinski who was about twenty ¨C five had got a visitor when he had gone downstairs in order to empty his urinary bladder. He presumed he had left the toilet lid open but this time his wife wasn¡¯t in the house to complain for doing so.

    Peplinski forgot to urinate when the chubby visitor entered inside the house. He was an unknown face and perhaps had the biggest stomach he had seen in recent years. Most of all, he wanted information from Peplinski. After the man told who he was and what his purpose was, Peplinski couldn¡¯t turn him down.

    "Get fresh. Have some coffee if you want because you ain''t sleeping tonight." the man had said. The man asked if he''d seen somebody enter inside Hansen''s house or not. Peplinski never needed any binoculars or Hubble Telescope to see what was going in Hansen''s house area. He could even look into his bedroom with ease but the young lad for he had his wife always besides him.

    Curtains closed! Lights out! Some sounds and silence¡­

    It was how his nights turned into morning. Peplinski told him that maybe at ten; he had seen someone get in the house but didn¡¯t see him come out.

    When he had opened the window to empty his ashtray then he had seen Hansen''s painful attempt to dig a pit. The man couldn¡¯t help himself from asking about Hansen''s past.

    "Rick Tarot knows better. You know, they''re somewhat like pals indeed." he replied.

    "Will you do me a favor?" he asked Peplinski.

    "Anything for you ¨C "

    The fat man told him his name then after.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.15)

    "You must be worried for your¡­ err¡­house" Peplinski told Hansen as soon as he had rung the doorbell and the door opened.

    "What the hell you think you know what happened here?" Hansen showed his curiosity.

    "Because I did it ¨C"

    "How dare you, son of a bitch ¨C" Hansen interrupted.

    "There was someone with me ¨C" Peplinski interrupted as well.

    "Was he a cop? Or any fatso called Deighan?" Hansen left the lad''s collar.

    "How do you know his name?" Peplinski looked up at his face.

    "An old foe of mine. He can''t stand me. Neither can I stand him." Hansen said after thinking for an appropriate answer.

    "Damn! What kind of foe does this¡­I mean¡­all ruined and desolated here."

    "Like you''ve got nothing to do with this huh?" Hansen snapped.

    "Holy fuck! He was a cop! Turning down a cop! Are you serious? He''d have whipped life out of me for that," Peplinski said in return, "You should be hell of grateful. I should owe you, instead for having told you about this before telling to anybody else."

    Hansen couldn¡¯t freak out at him like before this time.

    "Wise of you to do this. It would be wiser if you tell me what you two did here other than ruining my furniture."

    "Had no idea about you owning a cat. And how can you let the cat spoil all this? Look, if he hadn¡¯t seen the cat and paint bucket then he would have thought all this red was blood. Even I couldn¡¯t have got any other thought else." Peplinski said in hurry, "We just searched here all by ourselves. He told me if I saw a sack or briefcase then to inform him. He checked everywhere but was unable to find something he needed; maybe he also required what I was searching for. He never told me what he wanted. He just wanted me to keep doing what I was supposed to do."

    At least, cat and Hansen''s idea had done the work. Both men couldn¡¯t take it as blood.

    "Mr. Hansen, what were you digging," he resumed," Last night?"

    "Mice. Got a bunch of them in here. Two days ago I had put rat poison and the following night I felt like Pied Piper of Hamlin. Did he come up with cops?" Hansen switched the topic by letting out nervous laughter.

    "He had came alone." answer came straight.

    This made Hansen confident about something was wrong with Deighan. It was nothing but wonder he still didn¡¯t want other cops to get involved in Marcello''s case.

    "Mr. Hansen, is everything all right? Or he doubts for some sort of crime?"

    Hansen spoke nothing but heard Peplinski say, "Maybe it¡¯s the mysterious childish scream two nights ago. Maybe it grabbed his attention because it came from this area. Maybe he is eying your house¡­or, as it looks now, maybe he''s eying mine as well."

    He has no clue about any scream. He just wants Marcello. But currently you look more dangerous than Deighan.

    "Told you¡­a bitter enemy of mine. He''s a homosexual." Hansen made an awkward lie, "Maybe he wants me¡­" he made funny facial structure. He knew he couldn¡¯t lie like this.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.But Peplinski looks convinced enough. He said, "Consult judiciary. Put on a damn physical harassment attempt charge on ¨C "

    "Was there anyone else in your house? I mean¡­your wife Elaine?"

    "She''s in Idaho with bunch of her friends. Cathy, I think she SUCKS! She can''t even speak well. She''s one heck of rude. Guess what, I hate her twice as much as I love Elaine. Some four days ago Cathy called her from her home in Tacoma and informed Elaine about a trip to Idaho. She went with her. I don¡¯t have any clue if Cathy (it looked like he hated speaking the name) went there with her or not because Elaine told me ¨C"

    "Any plans for you today? Going somewhere?" Hansen interrupted, showing no interest in what Peplinski was barking.

    "Right now I should be in Wollochet. I kept waiting for you to get up and tell you everything face to face. I looked at your bedroom for entire morning and as I saw you wake up then I rushed straight to here."

    Hansen had no idea how he could see his bedroom so clear.

    "Best Western Wesley Inn & Suites located near Kimball Dr Street." he snapped without imagining about the consequences.

    "Is everyone thinking you are there right now?"

    "Hmm¡­.just Joey Tarot has the idea and now it''s you."

    "What about the homo cop?"

    "He has no freaking clue. I don¡¯t keep telling my plans to some cops who look as if he is suspicious for my involvement in such bizarre things like childish scream. I heard of vacancy in press as a minor columnist for some sort of Wollochet Play Bs. I can''t imagine they are using Play Boy''s magazine name in modified way just to avoid copyright matters! I made all my journals, collected previously published columns and some magazine cut ¨C outs. I would have to stay there for a week. The bastard editor wants to see my work daily I don¡¯t know why¡­I''ve booked room in there just for the Editor''s demand."

    He has booked room in such an expensive hotel?

    "But Mr. Hansen, the cop has told me he will come at my home tonight. I don¡¯t give a shit if I am arrested for no reason. I think he chose me to sneak in your house because we are neighbors and thinks we two maybe involved in something." Peplinski resumed.

    "How about both of us forget what happened in this place. Just like we are brainwashed¡­"

    "Great idea. MK Ultra¡­" Peplinski giggled for the controversial Russian project, "There''s no chance that I will tattle - tale about it Mr. Hansen. I think I should be on my way now. I am not supposed to be here right now."

    "Best Western Wesley Inn & Suites, right?" Hansen said barely remembering the name as Peplinski was staggering towards the door.

    "Room no 33." Peplinski looked back to answer, "In case, you want to meet me urgent¡­for last night stuff."

    "When will Elaine come? Any guess?"

    "Next week, maybe. I am not sure." he said and left without looking back.

    I don¡¯t believe Hansen buried rats there¡­Neither do I believe about the cop''s obsession. And he went in his SUV.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.16)

    At 1 pm in Best Western Wesley Inn & Suites, Stanley Peplinski lay under hotel bed with his throat slit. He was dead and the only reason he had died was his willingness to help Benjamin Hansen.

    Hansen wiped blood off his knife, remembered his journey on 64th St NW, where he had reached from a cab in Soundview Dr Street. The streets of Wollochet had been confusing but not confusing enough to stop him from hunting for Wesley Inn (according to his memory).

    "I had to do this. You were threat to me." he whispered in the body''s ear.

    For the next hour, Hansen ordered French fries with Bacon and orange juice in the same room and paid the bill by using Peplinski''s name. He knew until anybody would discover a dead body in there he would be long gone. And nobody would have a single clue if it was a murder or suicide because knife had Peplinski''s finger prints. One single night had turned him into a cold murderer who would not value anyone''s life for sake of his protection.

    Overnight killing people seemed to be an easy task.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!At some point, he recalled how concerned he was for the girl''s safety. Now the same man had killed her. Within hours, he had killed three people. He never had imagined a man like him could do this much things to cover - up a crime which he did not even commit.

    He knew there was very thin chance for the killings to be stopped. He was sure no other cops had involvement in Deighan''s motive. Once Deighan closed his eyes then the case will also be forever closed.

    Hansen heard Peplinski''s mobile ring. He couldn¡¯t dare to put his hand inside his pocket just to have a look at mobile phone. He couldn¡¯t take risk of leaving finger prints on the mobile''s screen.

    Subconsciously, he wanted to see who was calling him and also wanted to know why. Psychological warfare made him feel like he was Zodiac Killer or Jack the Ripper.

    Mobile phone kept ringing in Peplinski''s pocket when Hansen finally left the hotel room. Before he locked the room he heard ringtone of text message in dead man''s pocket.

    He did not even wait for another second and left, only to regret (some hours later), for why he did not dare to see the text message.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.17)

    In the noon, Hansen was still inside the bus with the name Stanley Peplinski and nobody in the earth knew Peplinski had been murdered. In the hotel room nobody was going to find out anything wrong until the body started to rot. In Tacoma he made plan, on seat of bus, according to which he was going to kill the cop tonight. He wanted to hit the spider instead of clearing cobwebs. He still had Glock 26 in his hand but without any bullets.

    The murderous innocent located a local gun ¨C shop and wondered how the hell he was going to purchase bullets while his whole mind was filled with messy pessimistic thoughts. Gun dealers were sometimes under inspection of law enforcement agencies. If sellers found the purchaser weird (they would sell anyways too) then they never hesitated for a second to give information about purchaser to the cops. Security threats mattered to them.

    It was just the second hurdle for him. First was to get inside the gun shop without sweating, without panicking and he needed to wait till he concluded formalities there. He knew he could see some cops there but he had to act normal. He couldn¡¯t risk doing weird actions there. He couldn¡¯t help him from feeling fear of being caught.

    Pessimistic thoughts created more problems to him than the problem itself.

    For a minute he kept staring at the gun shop with internal transparent blue glass exterior by thinking anybody could see him look at the reflection of himself. He saw a poster of local baseball game attached on a lorry, in reflection.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation."If you want to kill him, kill the fear first." he told himself and walked inside the shop, touching OPEN tag hung on the aluminum door by a thumb pin. What if the sellers find me strange? Should I go back?

    Hansen saw a real big room like a hospital reception area and most importantly ¨C the people who were queued for purchase. It was huge psychological relief for him when he found out he wasn¡¯t with very less people there. He queued up as well and saw other men enter there through the same door.

    There was no way anybody could doubt him. He no more looked tensed at the time. His mind went high when found no cops but just rotating CCTVs eying at people everywhere who were walking on the ghee colored laminated floor.

    Nobody could suspect him just because he had sweat on his face. He could blame summer for all the sweat.

    "Bullets for this hmm¡­Glock ¨C" he said as he put his gun in front of the young lad.

    "26." the guy added by interruption, "Almost everyone here owns this same model¡­anyways¡­Please fill up the form and I''ll get it done." Then he smiled at the old sweaty face.

    I can blame summer for this. He told himself as he imagined Deighan''s dead body.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.18)

    The clock''s hour hand ha just touched 5 when Hansen rotated the jammed door knob to get inside house. The jammed door knob had been rescuing him for the last couple of days. For a long time Hansen had forgotten that now he was a millionaire. He had no idea how Bughaloo had earned such money.

    He had no regret within him for Bughaloo but had some for Peplinski. "Deighan is the reason why he got killed¡­not me. Now Deighan must pay." Hansen said to the clock hoping it would agree on his opinion.

    Silence means a nod. He presumed it for clock''s case. Ten minutes later, he showered and it was done then started massaging his right arm. He also did some yoga stuff. He reached for his first aid box and had some pain killers.

    He was then confirmed no bones were broken.

    All of a sudden he heard the phone on the table ring. It rang and kept ringing but Hansen did not receive it.

    The ringing followed and Hansen did the same he had done with the last one. Maybe his construction boss was calling him, he assumed, because he hadn¡¯t been to his job for three consecutive days.

    After it he put the receiver of the red phone on the table.

    Almost at ten, Deighan was coming at Peplinski''s house. He was sure no cops were coming and nobody had any hint where Deighan was going. This was the perfect opportunity to kill Officer Deighan and end the whole mess.

    He had plotted that when he will have completed the murder then he will start his car and go somewhere for two days, pretending he never was there tonight.

    Hansen didn¡¯t want this crime to look as suicide but wanted to kill Deighan straight away. But he did not know if Deighan will come alone or with some other men like Stanley who had no idea why they were involved.

    Plotting for Deighan''s murder, he sat in front of the fireplace on his rocking chair with loaded gun in his hand. He sat there by looking at the fireplace till nine.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.He had no idea how he had spent three hours on a rocking chair in front of an unlit fireplace.

    Then he left his chair for murder.

    "There was an old man from somewhere who gave m ea hundred dollars and his name is like Pepli ¨C pep ¨C I don¡¯t remember. It was more bizarre than my ass." The waiter told himself as he pushed the gurney like table where lay Greek and Middle Eastern cuisines. Maybe he was speaking to the dishes because, at some level, he was insane."Dear Mrs. Porky and Mr. Peasy¡­I can get more. He told me Pepl ¨C whatever told me!"

    "How?" he imagined Mrs. Porky, which was a cuisine made of pork meat loaf marinated for a day in secret spices, say.

    Don¡¯t ask strangers anything! He imagined Mr. Peasy (Middle Eastern peas soup) speak.

    The waiter was half wit so Hansen had chosen him for a task before he would have nailed the coffin. He had chosen a half wit because he was the waiter responsible for delivery of foods in that floor. He had paid him for not interfering inside Peplinski''s room in any condition. The tip was for forgetting about existence of room no 33.

    The waiter could smell foul smell of body in initiation to rot but he didn¡¯t mention anything to anyone about it. Matter of fact was, he didn¡¯t know a man was dead in there.

    The boy heard someone knocking the door from inside of room no 33. Preceding it, a harsh voice was audible, "Having fun with Mrs. Porky and Mr. Peasy?" Then this was followed by the laughter.

    "Yes Mr. Pep ¨C lis - ki." The boy managed to say something at least.

    "Not my name boy." The voice resumed as if it was now enjoying speaking now.

    "Sorry to misspell your name. I annoyed you ¨C "

    "I don¡¯t have any name," the voice came, "Not Peplinski, not Hansen, not Bughaloo¡­not anything."

    "They must call you by something¡­right?"

    "They call me Marcello." then the voice stopped coming from the room.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.19)

    The interior design of Hansen and Peplinski''s house were almost the same. Two of the very few differences were arrangement of decoration and the fireplace. The fireplace was used as a cupboard where utensils lay. He could have imagined better use of fireplace than it. Hansen was in socks because he had left his shoes inside his own house to avoid tramps. Without tramps, he could never be heard in darkness which the house was facing. Inspite of all his precautions, a bad step or a collision on a vase or something able to make noise could make him regret.

    He had not given thought on those things even though he was aware of possible turn of events. He had positivity within him because all Hansen needed to do was shoot Deighan and run to the other state with his million. Maybe he would leave to Ohio or would stay somewhere in bank of Mississippi river after he had finished this work. He did not care if he was going to be blamed or not. His intention was just to end this altogether.

    He was wearing a skiing mask and had surgical gloves on his hands. Whether it was gloves or not but he was feeling discomfort to hold his Glock 26. From the last day he had feeling of discomfort with it.

    But it could be neglected. Those things were to be thrown in trash regardless. Even his pistol. He couldn¡¯t even imagine of keeping an object associated with someone''s murder.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.He heard sound of motor. The noise drew nearer and nearer to the house. For a moment he thought it had gone past him but the engine stopped.

    Then there was a thud of closing the door.

    "Don¡¯t kill him right here¡­kill him somewhere inside." His instincts told him which he couldn¡¯t say no to.

    Hansen hid behind a cupboard, being unable to identify which part of the house it was, in darkness. Hansen had already tampered the light switch so he had no fear of Deighan lighting the bulb.

    He had anticipated Deighan would knock the door but he did not. He heard sound of keys and saw the door get unlocked. Moonlight passed from the door to other side of room, with a shadow of something resembling to slender man. He didn¡¯t peek at the shadow for the second time.

    Let him come closer¡­

    The door was again locked but Hansen did not even look at Deighan. He was going to shoot him when he came near.

    To his surprise, the tramps were lighter as the human figure approached in through darkness towards him. Out of nowhere, Hansen pulled out his gun and placed his gun on temple.

    He heard a feminine yell.

    He was not Deighan but was Elaine Peplinski - Stanley''s wife.

    At the time Hansen deduced who had been calling Stanley for the whole day. It was her and the last message was left by her which read:

    Stanley! Why aren¡¯t you receiving my calls? You were right. Cathy ruined our plans. I''ll be back at home tonight. (kiss emoji)

 Cover Up Order (Ch.20)

    If Hansen had seen her message then he would never have imagined to do all this stuff. She had also noticed this man wasn¡¯t her husband with a prank idea. But she didn¡¯t have any hint about who this man was.

    She attempted to scream but he put his rubbed gloved hand on her mouth and pushed her down to the floor. She was so soft so it didn¡¯t take much effort for him to do so. He imagined of Stanley who hanged around with her all the time like a best friend. He felt pity for her at the moment. She was scared as hell after seeing the gun. She just sat on the floor with wide open eyes full of horror.

    Hansen always had wondered why he used to feel something bad was going to happen with Elaine. His intuition was turning out to be real as the reason was looking to be himself. He could not kill the 5.5 feet girl who had just turned twenty. In past, he had killed her husband.

    Hansen remembered little Bughaloo girl and then melted down but didn¡¯t weep. He was in no mood to do this act.

    "Elaine¡­just keep quiet. You know, these days I hate noise from any women." Hansen spoke by making his sound rough.

    "What do yeh ¨C yeh ¨C" she mumbled.

    "I just want to forget about what shall happen here."

    "A ¨C are a ¨Ca are yeh," she sobbed, "Where''s Stanley?"

    Hansen felt like The Great Sphinx from Egypt had just fallen on his chest.

    "Who¡¯s he?"

    "Yeh are here ter rob right?" the Irish ascent was audible.

    Hansen spoke nothing. If I kill her then I will never be able to live in peace. He forgot about the money he had now.

    For the next five minutes both of them spoke nothing. They just stood immovable on the same posture all the time. Hansen was more terrified than she was. He was searching for an alternative except harming her but he didn¡¯t know how he was going to do so. He needed to get out of the mess he was in.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings."You know, Elaine, my wife had left me many ¨C many years ago," then he paused for a while before continuing, "If you were her then I would have been disposing your corpse instead of giving you mercy." With those words he saw her sob in moonlight through the window glass. She had worn red T Shirt with black jeans and wore stylish sneakers. She must have been fond of sneakers. A handbag was also on the floor.

    "Where''s Stanley?" she asked.

    Hansen waited for the cop but he did not come.

    He had been watching the fancy handbag when her mobile phone ran from there. Hansen hesitated first but allowed her to get the mobile. She looked at the screen first.

    "Who''s he?" Hansen frowned.

    "Stanley¡­" she said and showed him the screen. Hansen was devastated. How can a dead person call someone who is alive? He was dead a long ago. There was a chance of someone discovering the corpse. He cursed himself for having trusted a half - wit waiter.

    "Receive it." Hansen commanded, "I want speaker on."

    She did so and the voice from other end spoke which was not of Stanley, "Elaine Peplinski speaking?"

    She looked at Hansen first and said with nod, "Yes."

    "You are in your house?" as the male voice spoke she was sure he wasn¡¯t Stanley. She could hear, "Is she the dead man''s wife?" in the background. She noticed her husband no more existed then after.

    She spoke in lowest voice as possible, "Anderson Island, Western Coast." Then she panicked but Hansen''s old ears had no chance to hear her telling address to the cops. "Cabhair liom! T¨¢ duine ¨¦igin ag iarraidh a mhar¨² dom."

    She did not know but she had done a fatal mistake by telling cops to help her in Irish. Hansen was fluent in Irish as well.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.21)

    It was half past ten when Deighan came inside Peplinski''s house. He was pleased because the boy had not locked the door. Meeting Stanley was just a minor thing because tonight he was going in Hansen''s house as well.

    "Stanley!" he shouted all the way.

    "Wake up lad! I''ve got a work for you."

    Instead he heard a man and a woman gossip. He was sure the light sounds of talking were coming from the bedroom. Deighan heard feminine voice of giggling and laughter. So was the male voice.

    "Enjoying huh?" he shouted to cause interference but the voices didn¡¯t give a damn to him.

    In the background he could hear faint sound of cars on street. Night time''s silence made him hear sound of automobiles more than a mile away. Deighan drew closer to the door and kept hearing stupid words of the voices.

    Deighan knocked the door but the voices didn¡¯t show any interest in night time visitor again.

    "Open the door!" he knocked hard as he felt something absent with him. Deighan roared and broke the door. The room was dark and someone ¨Ca girl, lay on bed. Only source of artificial light was a mobile screen.

    He could hear vehicles coming nearer and nearer to the house and he froze right there. There was a trio of patrolling vans and then around a dozen of cops ran down. Deighan couldn¡¯t understand anything until he saw a gun on the floor. He picked it up and smelled the nozzle. The gun was used and the victim was on the bed.

    The voices had come from video played on mobile phone. They had once recorded their conversations in leisure for memories. Also of the man who was supposed to be inside the room ¨C Stanley, wasn¡¯t in there.

    Cops entered inside the house within seconds. Deighan felt he was doomed when he realized what was missing from him. He took his hand to the right side of his waist.

    He felt hollowness in there when cops climbed up and entered inside the room.

    Meanwhile Hansen was inside his house after murder of Elaine. He was the one who had played video and had seen Deighan enter inside the house which was now surrounded by the cops. Hansen thought he had fractured his ankle because he had heard sound like wood break. Maybe he had landed on a twig while jumping from window when Deighan was about to get in. But whether it was twig or bone, it was painful.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.Inside his house, his hands came out from rubber gloves covered in sweat. His hand was free. His hand was free!

    He was supposed to be holding something but his hand was free.

    "Oh Jesus! I dropped my gun in there!" Hansen frowned.

    Hansen limped and started to search his car key. He had to run in any condition. If cops had found Deighan then he was going to take no time to mention about Hansen.

    "Where are the damn keys?" he searched on the tables and in the drawers. He pulled one drawer by hoping a key would show up.

    As he pulled the second drawer then he saw a shining Glock 26 Pistol along with the key beside it.

    Hansen''s eyes tore open. He realized that he never had used his gun in Peplinski''s house. Last night, when Deighan had come to search his house then he had left his gun by mistake. Both guys had same type of pistol. Almost everyone owned a Glock 26 in Anderson Island.

    But why would a cop use a cheap weapon instead of reliable Magnum? Since he had used rubber gloves in the house, the gun only had Deighan''s fingerprints. The phone call from Elaine and Deighan being discovered in such condition could mean nothing else than he was murderer.

    All now Hansen required doing was to stay patient, calm and stay inside his house. He waited for almost twenty minutes and witnessed a cop being arrested. He feared the cop would approach to his house and will take him along with them but nobody came.

    He saw people gather and later witnessed the lights of cars get away until he only could see stars as source of light.

    At the time Deighan had not mentioned about Hansen but he was sure he would anytime soon. Hansen had no great objection in it because he would be driving miles on I ¨C 5 until the cops reached to his house. All he needed to do was waiting till crowd was gone because he couldn¡¯t afford digging out the briefcase from the small pit he had dug last night. It couldn¡¯t fit a person in but it could fit what man needed ¨C money.

    Lots and lots of them.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.22)

    Tacoma Police Department,

    5:00 A.M, 15th April,

    In the interrogation vault, some cops were standing and the only one was sitting handcuffed on the metal chair. The man was ''Hag'' Brymer.

    ''Hag'' Brymer had said nothing since his arrest in Anderson Island from Peplinski''s house. In fact, he never was asked any serious questions. He could not believe he was interrogated about for almost a day after midnight and it was not about murders in Anderson Island.

    A pile of files lay on the table with words BRYMER, THE HAG.

    The door swung open and Mr. Deighan ran inside the room by ignoring CCTV cameras and some other junior cops. He rushed at the chair and jabbed fat Brymer''s face, "What the hell made you brave enough to use a cop''s name for yourself?"

    Deighan had just arrived in Tacoma from Idaho.

    Deputy Chief Alford stared down at Brymer.

    The final interrogation about Elaine Peplinski had just begun when Brymer confessed he faked as a cop and used Deighan''s name.

    Brymer alone was responsible for most of children abduction and extortion dealing for over the last decade. For such a long time he had been untouched from the enforcement agencies but now he was under arrest and was caught red handed. The last time he had been under arrest was in Coyote Ridge Corrections Center in Washington.

    "Thirty three children out of forty seven children disappeared in last decade were done by you. You killed all of them even you had received ransom amount. And all of the kidnaps had taken place in Washington and Oregon." Alford raged, "I forgot, this count to thirty four ¨C"

    "This one doesn¡¯t count on my account, assholes ¨C"

    A cop would have punched his nose flat for the last word but Deighan, real one, stopped him and whispered, "Being one short of thirty four wouldn¡¯t change the fact that those thirty three were killed by you. Neither can it cause change in your punishment which is bound to be death sentence. Hag Faggot!"

    "This one¡­I''m not responsible for this disappearance. I haven¡¯t killed her." he shouted like he was in a pub.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon."What ¨C what do you mean? You think we are going to believe in your words?" Deighan roared as he noticed a fake TPD badge still on his shirt. He wondered how he had got his hands on such thing.

    "Hansen¡­damn! I never had thought a skinhead like him could ¨C"

    "Wait- wait ¨C wait¡­who''s Hansen now? Is another man also involved in this murder?"

    "Screw the murder. I did not do this. It ¨C it began by an ordinary child kidnapping. Bughaloo¡­I had picked his daughter." Brymer spoke.

    "Should we believe him?" Alford asked Deighan.

    "But we must listen to him¡­" Alford explained.

    "Some days ago I had kidnapped her," Brymer spoke, "but I didn''t make any demand for ransom immediately. Lord has taught me to be patient in the past and I took his orders and under his will - held patience for four days. It was meant for me to be witnessed or not, I don¡¯t have any idea. Even this old shell of an abductor can witness strange thing happen for the third time in his life. The aberrant event is the root which stopped me from making phone call to Bughaloo and talk about ransom."

    "I don¡¯t understand what you are calling aberrant event?" Deighan asked.

    "That night I had kept her in an empty cell. When I went there to feed her then I found she couldn¡¯t stand anymore due to some reason. She looked as if petrified below waist. I had thought she was pretending and was trying to outsmart me for making things easy for her. But she was a little child with little ruse in their minds. Dumb children," he giggled after remembering a kid, "Next night she was couldn¡¯t move a single muscle of entire body. I was in extreme confusion. I thought I had kidnapped a fragile child and his father would not pay for saving a daughter who was in risk of death. Following night, after it, she couldn¡¯t speak and almost became like a breathing corpse. I never had seen such thing. Never had happened such thing to anyone I had kidnapped in so many years. I presumed she was unhealthy. On the fourth night, I dozed and when woke up then went to the cell to check if she was alive yet or not but she was not there. She was gone from there!"

    Cops could not figure out if Brymer was out of his mind or something else.

    "I rushed out and saw ¨C"

 Cover Up Order (Ch.23)

    "Saw what?" The officer asked.

    "A mysterious man in the cloak who was walking with a rucksack hoisted on his shoulder. I was pretty sure the rucksack did not have the girl in it. Sack was half of her size but since I had kidnapped her, I had spotted the same mysterious man around there frequently. Each time the girl had lost one of her physical ability, I had seen the same man walk with a sack."

    "You mean to say that first the man took her walk, next night took voice and after it, life ¨C"

    "And fourth night, the body. I don¡¯t know how he entered inside the house under my nose. He can''t be a human¡­"

    "Or this all is a lie." a cop broke into laughter.

    "The man was taking the sack somewhere. I followed the man and saw him get inside a house. Apparently he vanished in Hansen''s house. There was just an empty sack hanging on the chimney like a flag. I was scared of such paranormal event but I could use it on my favor. I could fake being a cop and used Hansen''s name as well as address to get the ransom amount. I could get in his house as a cop when he had received money and could retrieve it from him. It was easy for somebody like me."

    Looking at everyone''s faces, he continued, "I did the same. I called Bughaloo, demanded ransom and then told him to deliver it to Hansen''s house. I told him he would find me in there."

    "Then what happened?"

    "I have no idea. But both Bughloo and his daughter disappeared. Then I went to meet Peplinski. I picked him up to search in Hansen''s house for ransom when it was supposed to be delivered. I had no chance of finding it alone so I told Peplinski I was an undercover cop and needed a small cooperation from him. I told him to shut his mouth about all this but I don''t think he did. My choice then¡­." he scoffed, "Chose wrong fucking shit. But he also disappeared the following day."

    "Believe me or not," Hansen changed his voice, "but the ransom money is still somewhere with Hansen. I couldn¡¯t find it. The clever maniac had covered everything in a perfect way. He even made me think once that I had done a mistake in whole process. I couldn¡¯t ask for kidnapping directly, so I made up a name ¨C Marcello. I told him Marcello had come with rucksack in his house."

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original."And the Bughaloos?"

    "How many times I have to tell you? The disappeared. Goddamn it! Or maybe¡­Hansen killed them."

    "I think we have to get Hansen here." Alford reacted.

    14th April, 7:00 AM,

    Hansen had his bags packed when the phone on table again rung. Since Brymer''s arrest it had been ringing almost every hour. It may be the last time I will receive someone''s call on this phone.

    Hansen put the receiver on his ear but before he could utter a word, a deep voice said, "Hansen¡­feeling guilty?"

    "Who''s this?" Hansen snapped, "What''s your name?"

    "I don¡¯t have any¡­" as Hansen heard it, he almost hung the call. He would have done it if the caller hadn¡¯t said, "But they call me Marcello. I am Prophet Marcello."

    Marcello continued, "I know you can never be able to live peaceful life again. You''ve most dangerous things with you ¨C regret and anxiety."

    "I will repent for this after I am gone¡­"

    "You can''t repent on your own. Believe me. You need an assist for this. I can be that man, the preacher."

    "I know I can''t repent it until I am alive ¨C"

    "Yes Hansen, repenting will cost your life. There is no other way you can purify yourself." Prophet Marcello grinned.

    "Whatever is the punishment, I am ready for it. I am ready to repent. I know you were the one who had put the child in here and I also know you are a Satan who is calling himself a Prophet. I can run from the law but I can''t do so with an anti divine power ¨C you. I have killed innocents in order to cover up a crime I did not even do. I even killed the little Elaine." Then Hansen started to sob.

    "Hansen, you go to the work today and come back to house like any other normal day. I''ll meet you at ten tonight. Prophet shall help you in your purification from sins¡­" then the call was hung from Prophet''s end.

 Cover Up Order (Ch.24)

    14th April, 9:30 PM,

    "Hansen¡­" Prophet Marcello sobbed, "Dear son, I''m here to grant you your wish before you are purified. That wish and desire has now become a portion of purification and repenting process."

    Hansen looked at the fireplace and took a long breath as warmth of fire hit on his face. He breathed like it was the final time he was going to do so. Hansen remembered himself spending his entire childhood and adult life in the same house where he was also going to die in. In his childhood Christmas was most beloved by him for one reason.

    Presents.

    For the whole night he would pretend to be asleep and frequently would sneak at the fireplace by wearing his red woolen socks. Neither his elder brother, who had passed away two years ago due to respiratory infection, nor anybody else would notice him doing it.

    There was the chimney above fireplace as an outlet for smoke. "I''ll hurt Santa Claus. I''ll burn his freaking beard and I''ll turn him skinny. Then I''ll ride on the flying cart and take control over every single rain deer pulling it up in the air. I''ll take all the gifts and they will not get any of them. I''ll be the only one who has gifts and all my friends will be jealous of me." He had imagined and he even had stolen his father''s hunting gun just to kill Santa whenever he was going to appear from the fireplace to eat the cookies under the Christmas tree.

    On his sixth birthday, gifts came but without Santa.

    After four more years of wait, when he was ten, he still had been holding the gun by pointing at the fireplace which was now burning. He had lit it some hours ago. For past five years he had been waiting for Santa but never had burnt the fireplace on Christmas night.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.Dosing, he sat on his father''s rocking chair with his body wrapped by blue stripped white blanket. He hadn¡¯t realized the simple nap was turning out to be a sound sleep. It was unlike the previous Christmas nights which used to pass sleepless for him.

    Something hit on the fire from the chimney.

    It was a box which had fallen from up right on the flames. Before that night, gifts used to come from miniature fake tree in his house but not stra from the chimney.

    "Anyone up there? Is this you, Santa?"

    But the gift had caught fire in such a way it was disfigured when his eyes fell on it. The gift was burnt and Hansen had not even got to know what was inside it. Hansen knelt down and cried silently for a long time. Without any clue he had slept on the floor.

    "I''m here to fulfill your wish too." Marcello said, "I''ve got a gift for you. It was your desire to get gift from Santa but it got destroyed. Since then you desired to kill someone who had let you down. Santa Claus. Your wish to kill him will be complete tonight¡­"

    Next morning when TPD cops arrived then found Hansen to be missing from the house. The house smelled foul like a lot of tires were burnt inside. The fireplace had ashes on it and a coffee mug on the floor was untouched along with pork meat on the plate. And the door ¨C unlocked.

    Instead a person was found to be lying flat on his chest, dead. Nobody knew but he was Marcello. Prophet Marcello.

    If the cops had checked the pile of smelling ashes inside the fireplace then they would have realized it was not wooden ashes. They would have found Hansen, instead, in there as the ashes.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.1)

    Perhaps another murder meant nothing for a man who had been involved in a killing before that time. Killing someone, for the victimizer, was one of the easiest things one could do if the he wasn¡¯t afraid of getting banged inside a cell for rest of his life or being hanged.

    But the victim was sure he was going to die any moment from suffocation when he was no longer was able to inhale oxygen inside his lungs which felt it was being pressed by something massive.

    Let me breathe¡­he gasped, heard his own faint voice prolonging inside his head when he felt pressure of earth straight against his rib cages. I am dying¡­he told himself when a big rough palm gripped his throat so hard; he thought his Adam''s Apple was inside his throat now. He gagged and gasped for air when realized him being dragged on the floor. It seemed like someone was flaying him from his knees up to the upper limbs too.

    The grip on his throat made him think of the time when a tender hand had come from darkness for his help from darkness.

    "Who''s hand is this?" he questioned himself when he found it could be the biggest d¨¦j¨¤ vu of his entire life. D¨¦j¨¤ vu of suffocation and hand rarely came to him. It was like once or twice a year but it wasn¡¯t the d¨¦j¨¤ vu anymore.

    "Leave me!" words came out from his mouth when he started to pull the man''s hand, just to find out his attempt was bound to failure. How could someone keep holding his slippery and sweaty neck so firm?

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.The hand wasn¡¯t creation of his mind or his childhoods blur memory. He discovered it when he saw blurred body figure and a couple of limbs.

    Once a hand had come which had resulted as Midas touch.

    He could hear a bizarre masculine sound in the darkness while being dragged. He couldn¡¯t understand what was going on around and who was dragging the half conscious man all over the floor. Some seconds later he became unable to find if the sound came from a human or an animal.

    When his knees and abdomen started to collide on something possessing sharp edges then he sensed he was on stairs. He presumed his knees had been dislocated due to rapid collisions. But the problem was that he still couldn''t see what was happening to him. All he knew was, he was about to be killed soon.

    His attempt to regain consciousness was like nothing more than biting diamond to crush it.

    I must open my eyes¡­but it seemed as if someone had sewed his eyelids or had super ¨C glued them.

    Once my suffocation had perished after the touch and I was taken out of the agony¡­.I could breathe after it. Till now I am breathing¡­

    "Mooovvveeee¡­.!" He heard a man''s voice and saw human like transparent heads on the side of an opaque face. The blurred sighting of the victimizer meant nothing for him.

    "Don¡¯t kill me¡­" again words came out from his mouth but he was sure it hadn¡¯t reached in the person''s ears. A painful slap on his face almost awakened him.

    He wants me conscious? Why doesn¡¯t he want me get up?

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.2)

    Looked like the man''s attempt was showing results when the victim felt gradual increase in his senses. Most importantly he could hear more clear and could somewhat see more. At least he could figure out if the person was a human or a moving mannequin.

    I was told¡­Aito¨²ntes. Is this a Redman?

    Blood oozed out of his nostrils and later he heard his nostril crack because his face had been slammed hard.

    I don¡¯t want to wake up¡­he was right.

    The victim was feeling nausea like never before and he wanted to vomit as soon as possible. He had preferred himself dead rather than alive because he had been discovering shocking thing which had turned his life upside down in a single evening.

    The meeting in the evening¡­he recalled while he was still in attempt to find out how many people were inside the room. He could hear tramps and without any doubt it belonged to only one person who had been wearing rubber shoes with thin soles.

    He was getting rid of dizziness and nausea when he assumed he just had heard a female shout. He wasn¡¯t supposed to be suffering at that time, instead something else was to happen but the entire anticipated scenario was changed.

    As he confirmed it as a feminine yell then the man''s desire to die took a flight and a burst of energy came in his body all of a sudden. He knew he was sweating but as soon as he regained his sense of surrounding events back then he found himself nude to bare skin in front of the scary man.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.To his misfortune, there was plum woman to see him. He was drugged at the moment but took him no spare time for him to recognize the fat woman as his mother.

    Aito¨²ntes¡­.

    What he saw next was far more unbelievable than he had ever imagined. Behind his weeping mother, a 5.5 ft tall girl looking to be in her early twenties stood like a statue. She looked like she did not care what was happening in front of her. She looked as if she had come straight to existence from ancient piece of Fresco Art from Leonardo Da Vinci or Michelangelo.

    The face was no strange for him but he couldn¡¯t believe he had seen her after such a long time ¨C since his childhood. The victim shared glances with his mother and looked at the armed man who had a Colt Pistol in his clutch with finger on the trigger.

    The victim recognized the gun. It belonged to him but was now in someone else''s hand and there was no chance for him to snatch it. Recognizing his gun wasn¡¯t a tough work for him.

    His mother looked at him like she was the cause which was making his son suffer. She was shocked to see her grown up son naked in front of her.

    "Curse is getting over," the girl behind his mother said, "The curse of free mind."

    As he raised his head to see the armed man, he saw him pointing the gun towards his mother. For the first time the attacker spoke to the woman who was right behind his mother, "At last, the day has arrived."

    The half conscious guy knew either his mother or he was going to be killed by them. Then he thought both of them could get killed.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.3)

    Four patrolling vans were making their way to South West part of Tacoma city on S 19th Street. Their velocity made pedestrians conscious about condition of the city.

    "Do you think D''Amares is there? Relying on unsure sources of information for such a dangerous criminal isn¡¯t a good idea." said Warner to Keaton when both of them were in leading patrolling car. Both men were seated with comfort on the back seat until Keaton made Warner to pass a big and heavy bag to him.

    Warner could hear radio squeak and was unable to figure out if it was his or Keaton''s or it was of the cop who had been driving.

    Keaton unzipped the heavy bag, almost tore it, without responding neither to Warner nor to the constant squeaks from radios what were uttering some words. The sound was annoying even for the cops. The noise was nothing less than an old record of diameter about one feet being played on malfunctioning record player.

    "D''Amares! I think I was talking about him!" Warner raised his voice as a remainder when Keaton was almost done with adjusting his Magnum''s magazine.

    Keaton felt wrath in Warner''s voice so he replied, "Listen, you are not getting it right, Mike! He''s in there because the car''s number plate has already been traced and right now it is parked in the address where we''re supposed to go. Don¡¯t assume this as a shitty patrolling drill which we did together for last decade. And we''re not the ones who should be concerned if the sources TPD is getting is accurate or not ¨C"

    "Damn!" Warner slammed his hand on the bulletproof glass, remembering the annoying drills, "I hate ill confirmed projects. And in such a sensitive matter? How can you say we aren¡¯t the one who should not be showing any concern? How Cusack? We''re here dealing with potential danger. We are here, not those Alford and ¨C and Deighan. I can''t believe they can risk our lives just to confirm if D''Amares is here or not. He''s a goon ¨C"

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon."A drug smuggler and multiple cops killer for USA. He hasn¡¯t been active in homicides here in recent time. In fact, the man is more like an underworld fugitive who has a clean record on him for terrorism activities." Keaton explained, "Public is unaware of him and since he had been arrested seven years ago, there is no way to find out if his facial features are same as it was or not. We had heard back then that he had done cosmetic surgery somewhere in France. Such criminals either tattoo their faces or sometimes end up with disfigured faces in brawls. As far as I remember, he had tattooed his cheek and chances are there that now he either has got more of them added on his face or he has got it removed already. In fact there were rumors since weeks about his presence in States but nobody knew how he looks like."

    Keaton could sense they were few minutes away from the destined place. Keaton sensed something which made him break his silence, "Mike¡­This is a classified information and perhaps you also know but his project had been planned in TPD Headquarters within few hours. I won''t lie, I feel uneasy for you because I couldn¡¯t inform you about this some hours earlier. We had to pick you up at last minute and I can understand your frustration. Last week Deputy Chief Alford had told me we could have a possible mission. He didn¡¯t tell me clear what it was going to be. Perhaps he was also unsure of what was going to happen."

    "A possible mission? I call it a possible death sentence. And what the hell you think is classified information huh? Nothing''s really classified in TPD right now. For instance, one of our classified had come in TPD a week ago and since then rumors have arise about Aito¨²ntes. Such information had never come from a phone call before¡­"

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.4)

    Keaton threw a confused look at him.

    "What? Did you see Alford after he had received a call following Brymer''s arrest? Since then he is demented. Existing speculations say Aito¨²ntes are behind the call. If not then it''s something, for sure, which had relation with it in some scale." Warner said.

    "Did he ever speak to anybody about it?"

    "I think Deighan knows all and nobody else. But whatever was the call related to, it''s something not under our control. I''ve heard rumors."

    "What if I tell you I know about Aito¨²ntes more than anybody in this department does? It wasn¡¯t the conversation which scared Mr. Alford but it was the caller who did." Keaton said, even by noticing the driver who had been listening to them. He even wanted the driver to heat them talk.

    "How can I believe whatever you just told me right now isn¡¯t a fragment of your fantasy?" Warner got curious in Aito¨²ntes all of a sudden.

    "I don¡¯t think D''Amares is all alone in there. We may face brawl there. An ugly one¡­so, if I survive tonight then I will tell you." Keaton patted him and spoke like he was vowing, "I will let you know how I have known about the call."

    "What if you survive but I don¡¯t?" Warner looked direct in his eyes.

    I''ll try to find a way if it happens.

    Keaton pulled out Kevlar Vest (bullet proof vest) along with a helmet and handed them to Warner, "This time you need these more than anything else." Both could hear chaotic mixture of walkie ¨C talkie sounds and police sirens.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.Keaton grabbed his radio, put it in front of his mouth and roared, "Okay¡­kill the sirens. We''ve to sneak in the house now¡­ (BEEP) ¡­ Unit Two¡­I want them shut! NOW!"

    The one way conversation ended with usual BEEP and the sirens as well. Good¡­

    Keaton continued, "Don¡¯t expect D''Amares to be alone in there. There may be other dozen of men there with loaded weapons. But we must trust out Kevlars and Helmets for safety. Put tear gases and even grenades on standby. You hear me? Put grenades on standby. I want them ready."

    What Keaton said next shocked the entire trio of patrolling cars which were following them, "You''re supposed to follow us but don¡¯t follow me now. Protocol''s procedures are modified now."

    "Protocol is to follow you." a guy from Unit Three spoke.

    "Screw the old protocol. I posses the authority over this. On the next junction, we shall part away. Change positions but our target will be the same house. We are going to surround the house from all four sides instead of invading from front ¨C"

    "Are you crazy?" Warner screamed when he felt pace of car increase and saw the rest of his unit part away as decided earlier.

    "We can''t lose him like FBI had done last time. We''ll meet at the same house. Now change the routes and whoever reaches there first shall inform me before sneaking inside there." Keaton threw the order.

    Warner had no good feeling about this change in action just like the rest of three confused armed units.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.5)

    The third unit was perhaps two minutes ride far from the backside of targeted house when a sound of gunshot echoed in their ears. They couldn¡¯t understand if it was the sound of gunshot or celebration of fireworks in nearby Tacoma Dome. But they couldn¡¯t see pyro flames in the sky.

    As the sound erupted for the second time more closer then they understood it was sound of gunshot for real which had come from D''Amares'' current location.

    The other units were confirmed quick and the two of them confirmed they also had heard sound of gunshots from the same area.

    But one unit was off the contact when the third unit was struggling to communicate with them. It seemed as if their radios had never existed. They didn¡¯t receive any of those messages.

    It was patrolling unit one.

    "Why aren¡¯t they in our range? Looks like their walkie ¨C talkie has been damaged." One cop said.

    Or maybe somebody has broken it?

    They fell in shock when realized the unit belonged to Warner and Keaton. Both of those guys could be in some sort of crisis.

    The gunshots in D''Amares'' location could be related with only one thing. The boy reached for his radio and shouted without giving a damn whoever he was talking with, "Keaton and Warner aren¡¯t responding. So is Derrick who was driving. And firings have happened inside the house. Either D''Amares or anyone of the crew has been killed!"

    I wish we hadn¡¯t parted and were together in the same protocol.

    Then after the weak radio signals disappeared.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    The rest of crew knew a terrible mishap had taken place in the house but, without expectation, when they reached to the house''s backyard which looked nothing less than peaceful place. It was like nothing had happened in the area. Third unit could see rest two cars had already arrived.

    The walkie ¨C talkie squeaked, "First car has been discovered but it''s empty ¨C" The signal was very low and it was something which almost had never happened before.

    "D''Amares left the house? How can he?"

    Now the house where sounds of firings had happened was dead silent.

    "There''s no Keaton and his team. Get inside the house right now! Maybe we''ll find them there no matter how they are doing." He barked at the radio, "Bullshit signal! Fuck!"

    "TEAM THREE IS THIS YOU?" the voice erupted from the radio in an annoying way.

    Then it struck him. The first patrolling unit had responded out of nowhere. But what even shocked them something more was something in front of their eyes.

    "We''ve spotted something here. A mannequin maybe!" he shouted with relief of Keaton''s response to him now.

    "Mannequin? Are you sure?" came Warner''s puzzled reply.

    "No! I guess it''s not. Its ¨C oh ¨C breathing¡­he''s a ¨C a human and he looks knocked out!"

    "What the heck? In case if you''re concerned about our well being then I inform you that we are already inside the house." the voice resumed.

    When did they get in? And what about the gunshots?

    "You''ll not believe what we''ve discovered inside." Warner said in mystified tone.

    "Hello ¨C what ¨C what?"

    But the line was hung in low connection.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.6)

    Tacoma Police Department,

    Deputy Chief Alford had just concluded his telephone conversation with FBI Director and was looking through the glass at the person who was inside the interrogation vault they called Pinocchio Vault in humor. Opposite to Pinocchio whose nose increased with a lie, the culprit would often find his ones decreased due to courtesy of Keaton and other guards.

    "FBI wants to know how we concluded this arrest without causing fireworks among the public. They wanted to talk with you about the sources of investigation but I told them you''re busy with one of our officers ¨C Keaton and rest of the patrolling teams at this moment." Alford said to Deighan, adjusting his glasses and looking at the bizarre photographs taken in D''Amares'' location last night.

    The deck of photos was appearing as internet memes due to indexed white portion on the bottom of the photographs. He shared half of the deck with Keaton and then he ran his fingers on bizarre photographs by glancing at D''Amares, who was sitting calmly on the chair, through the glass.

    "I think¡­he had some of his group last night but they ran. I thought we had to battle but this happened nothing more than ¨C" Keaton said, gazing at the photos one by one.

    "Matricide?" Mr. Deighan interrupted.

    "Maybe not." Keaton moved his eyes at Deighan, "It was simple as well as we were arresting a drunkard. After all, he was on the state of unconsciousness anyways last night. He also had been smelling alcohol."

    "Speed up the procedure and initiate the interrogation." Alford command to Keaton.

    Keaton threw look at him in dilemma if he was serious for it or just was kidding in front of Deighan.

    "And what about the witnesses we need for it? I think we can''t get them ready just like this! This is not a place like Guantanamo."

    "Officers from FBI will arrive here in an hour. After all, they will not be in mood to listen what D''Amares has to say. They''ll just take him away and it''s all over. There''s going to be no trial because he is a notorious criminal. If they consider interrogating, only if, then they will opt to do it in their own headquarter. I think we need to talk to him until he''s here and collect some piece of information he has with him."

    "As like others, this man is also bound to glue his lips ¨C"

    "They''ll be here by seven. So keep moving on what you were told to do. I''ll go and warn the man about interrogation¡­because this is not Guantamo Detention Center," he looked in wicked manner at Keaton for remainder, "Till then keep questions ready in your head whether he answers them easily or not."

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.Keaton nod in response.

    Then Keaton saw both of the men leave the room and within a minute they were visible through one way mirror in D''Amares'' vault.

    Warner entered inside the room like he had been waiting outside for Deighan and Alford to leave the room.

    "Keaton¡­ Aito¨²ntes. You said you''ll tell me what this department doesn¡¯t know about ¨C " Warner gasped.

    "I''ll tell you what you need to know."

    "About the phone call to Alford. You said the caller was the one who had scared him. How the hell you are supposed to know this?" Warner asked in hurry as if he had run from his desk just to get the answer.

    Warner was one hell of impatient man. He was an over thinker maniac.

    "Because the same type of call had come to me the night before an unknown man had been found inside Benjamin Hansen''s house. I had known Hansen for a long time. As far as I think, the dead man was the one who had called me. I am not sure if he was the same man who had called Deighan or not but whoever called him belongs to same category."

    "What category you are talking about?"

    "Do you believe in spirituality? I know you don¡¯t¡­but you will understand this only if you attempt to glance at all of this from my perspective. To believe in me, you have to believe that a man is nothing more than a puppet for a divine entity. A divine entity which has forgotten it is creation of God. A portion of God. And the entity has left its duty just to punish some people for nothing."

    "So you are linking the absence of signals from the house with divine force which existed with dead man there. You know what; if you believe in it then I reckon you''ve got to take it more seriously because same had happened with signals last night."

    "I already have taken it. And now I am sure the force which perished in Anderson Island isn¡¯t alone here. And what accompanied him is responsible for Alford''s worry." Keaton said when found himself looking at Alford.

    "Do you believe in Satan? I assume you are referring divine portions as Satan."

    "Oh Jesus!" Keaton felt like a kick in his guts and immediately left the room like he didn¡¯t want Warner to ask more questions about the topic.

    Warner would have followed him but Keaton entered inside the interrogation chamber where Warner wasn¡¯t even allowed to step in without permission.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.7)

    What Keaton did next in the interrogation chamber was slamming the photos of last night on wooden table right in front of D''Amares by hoping he would get attention from him.

    As he had anticipated the handcuffed man with heavy eyes and swollen face gazed up at Keaton''s face and later at the photographs which lay like playing cards on the table.

    Is this me? The man thought when he figured out himself lying naked with a gun in his clutches. He wasn¡¯t pleased at all to himself photographed nude.

    Then Deighan slid the gun on the table towards D''Amares.

    "Remember this?" Keaton chose to speak first, "It''s yours."

    "Is ¨C Is ¨C is this me?!" D''Amares mumbled in disbelief to see himself naked in the picture. And now was in custody.

    "Why am I arrested? That man is supposed to be here. Not me!" he spoke with sudden burst of energy in his vocal chords.

    "We''ll come to it later, can we? And I want you to open your filthy mouth only on my command and shut it on mine command as well."

    D''Amares looked annoyed and scared to the peak, "But ¨C but the woman ¨C"

    "Don¡¯t worry D''Amares¡­" Keaton looked at Deighan, "She''s with us, isn¡¯t she?"

    Deighan nod without any expression on his face.

    "And as I was saying, you will speak on my command because I''m interrogator here and you a culprit ¨C"

    "Wait a minute! CULPRIT? Where''s the fuckstick ¨C"

    "No swearing here!" Keaton screamed, "I told you, we''ll come to it later. And first, we''ll come to this." Then Keaton showed him a photo taken last night which had a dead fat woman lying on the pool of her own blood. "The woman. Do you know her?"

    "She''s my mother!" D''Amares almost got off his chair but realized his feet were also chained above his ankles.

    "Why did you kill her anyways? I don¡¯t want stories here ¨C" Keaton spoke.

    "Holy hell! It''s he who did it¡­not me!" D''Amares screamed in horror and sorrow for having seen the indexed meme looking photo.

    "Don¡¯t make me remind you time to time. We shall mention about him later ¨C"

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road."But you had told me my mother was safe with you ¨C"

    "We never had said she was breathing. NOW KEEP QUIET!" Keaton inched himself nearer to him in anger, "Don¡¯t be smart here¡­not with me."

    "We''ll check from control room," Deighan whispered in Keaton''s ear, "Maybe this man is not going to tell anything if we hang around here." And after few quiet seconds, the three men left the room.

    Keaton held a briefcase in his hands and put it on table.

    "Before I open this briefcase, I want to tell you what we had witnessed last night." Keaton said who was seated on the other end of the table, "Two dead bodies were discovered from your house and the gun has your fingerprints. When we had come, we discovered you clutching gun. You were heavily doped and you smelled alcohol. Now I think I have made everything clear. This is the cold blooded crime you have done in here and you had been undercover here for many years by dealing with drugs, murders and many other homicides. I still can''t believe you are the notorious D''Amares what we had thought was just a code name for someone. But I''m glad to find it as just fiction. Living under skin of a normal civilian must have been an easy way to commit under world crimes, isn¡¯t it D''Amares? Quite frankly, we never would have found your real identity if it wasn¡¯t for last night. Do you have anything on your defense o I should open this briefcase in front of you?" Keaton then drummed on the briefcase.

    "Okay then." D''Amares told everything including how he had been dragged and how the mysterious man had shot his mother while he had lost his consciousness.

    He also told how a woman had appeared behind his mother. He speculated the man could have killed the girl too. In this way the two dead bodies could have been discovered.

    "Interesting," Keaton smiled and in pace of wink, the smile perished resulting a deserted face, "There is no way anybody can believe this because two dead females were found in your house but a man was found dead there along with your mother."

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.8)

    D''Amares felt horrified! Oh Lord! I missed it! But there was also a girl with us. "The g ¨C gi ¨C girl looked like medieval ¨C"

    "Painting huh? Trying to be Poe here?" Keaton snapped and opened the briefcase without warning, "It doesn¡¯t matter whatever happened last night. You are going to prison anyways for the past activities you had done under persona of an ordinary civilian."

    Keaton spoke when his eyes moved from the contents of his briefcase, "One female and one male were found dead. Not two females, do you get it? And the gun just had your fingerprints on it."

    D''Amares said noting at first but said, "I need my lawyer here. Call Bughaloo. I''ll give you his number he lives in West ¨C"

    "Bughaloo''s missing. Now don¡¯t make me mad. Bughaloo has not been found even after Brymer''s custody."

    In a sudden Keaton turned the briefcase towards D''Amares. He couldn¡¯t believe what was in front of his eyes. He just found himself listening to Keato ''s voice, "Even if Bughaloo is found, don¡¯t think he''ll come here. In fact, forget the idea that we''ll let him here to see you."

    My God, why didn¡¯t I keep this hidden? He thought by looking at the contents of the briefcase.

    Inside the briefcase lay driving license, passport and some other documents. There were many other things which had made him fall in shock when he had seen them for the first time.

    "And this¡­" Keaton showed him flight ticket of Tacoma International Airport which was scheduled to take off after some hours. "You were planning to escape today. To¡­Chateau, France, your origin¡­"

    "I may have a convincing explanation for this¡­" he mumbled but stopped because of some reason. Then he didn¡¯t choose to speak anything more.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it."No explanations. I just came here to fill up the formal procedures. My job is done in here. Explain this to FBIs later." Keaton snapped at him, shooting TPD pipebomb, "You know D''Amares, when we took you here last night we found drugs in your blood. We would never have found you if you hadn¡¯t been to a local medical facility in order to buy some pain killers." Then Keaton looked at D''Amares'' photos in which his hands, feet and back was injured due to some reason, "You were clever to have survived by living in here with another name under our nose. But you couldn¡¯t outsmart us anyways ¨C"

    D''Amares began to cry tears of a lunatic, "Why lord?"

    Keaton kept looking at him weep for a while and asked with a suspicion in his mind, "Are ¨C are you C¨¦lestine D''Amares?"

    "No." he said in low voice, moving his head with some hope even though he had just been told Keaton was just there to do his job which did not even mattered anymore.

    "Where ¨C where''s D''Amares?" Keaton still was suspicious if he was telling truth or was just kidding to distract TPD.

    What he answered to Keaton made him pale in disbelief. Keaton eyed around the vault and left, "Jesus how this can go wrong?" The men observing from Control Room had no idea what piece of information had been passed to Keaton.

    In control room, Alford''s cell phone rand. The call was from none other than Keaton himself but he had no intention to share what he had told about D''Amares.

    "Okay then. Proceed." Alford replied and looked at the strange man with them in the room. Completely unaware if condition was under their condition or not, he doubted if the peculiar man with them could turn out to be helpful at any scale for them or not.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.9)

    Ten minutes after Keaton ''s departure, an old thin man with long beard and white hair entered inside the interrogation vault. He looked like he was hungry for a couple of years and never had combed his hair. The old man was dressed in black shirt, loose denim and was barefoot.

    The old man looked around first and then saw man whom everybody called C¨¦lestine D''Amares ¨C a French misanthropist who had been caught in USA under strange circumstances.

    The chair which one belonged to Keaton was now his. He calmly sat down, looked at mirror and discovered himself looking like a Middle Eastern beggar dressed in rags.

    "I ¨C I was there." The old man pointed at mirror, trying to tell him people were eying them from the other end, "There''s a room inside this looking glass. Patrick Turner." He introduced himself while D''Amares didn¡¯t even glance at him, "And I am not a cop."

    "I don¡¯t care who you are. I ¨C I ¨C I''m just," he didn¡¯t opt to speak for a while, "I am not D''Amares. I am Allan. Allan O''Connell."

    "You know what, the microphone affixed on you collar has been deactivated. They can''t listen to what you speak," Truner pointed at his shirt and looked down at his clothes, "and I don¡¯t even have mic attached anywhere on my clothes."

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.Those men shared awkward silence for sometimes. Turner couldn¡¯t imagine sharing awkward silence with same sex could also be this much of an embarrassment.

    "Can you tell me what exactly happened to you?" Turner broke the silence.

    O''Connell glanced at him, "Is this new interrogation technique or what?"

    "No, of course not! Believe me or not but I''m also here due to an unexplainable occurrence. It''s true¡­" Turner spoke fast but slowed down, "You''re not alone¡­"

    "I don¡¯t care."

    "You don¡¯t believe it? Why would they let us communicate inside an interrogation room instead of being put inside solitary? Haven¡¯t you got any idea yet?!"

    "What do you want?" O''Connell, at last, looked convinced.

    "A piece of information¡­that''s it. Maybe I can help you in this case. Trust me. Maybe this event which had happened to me is relatable with yours." Turner persuaded.

    "You mean to say the reason behind your arrest is somewhat linked with mine?"

    "Maybe it ¨C"

    "You''ve got no idea had been through ¨C" O''Connell interrupted.

    "A mystic female?" Turner hurried, "Isn''t it a link?"

    O''Connell froze and looked at him for a long time by deciding if he should be telling about the event to a complete stranger or not. But the mention of a feminine link convinced him to share the reason he was arrested.

    O''Connell took a long breath to start.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.10)

    Previous Day,

    O''Connell put the powdered Ecstasy mixed with cocaine on his finger back and smelled it in so hard like a vacuum cleaner for a brief period of time. He felt like the cocktail powder had reached to his brain.

    O''Connell attempted to sneeze but failed to clear his nostrils. He heard his friends mock him loud in loud in the mixed sound of Freddie Mercury''s song. "Don¡¯t sneeze it out! Nobody wants Ecstasy with cocaine leave their heads." Someone was trying to get humorous.

    "My Lord¡­headache. Oh!" O''Connell panicked when found the drugs hadn¡¯t relieved him this time.

    "Are you okay, Allan?" an attractive blonde in blue shorts and black torso approached and touched his shoulder. But O''Connell didn¡¯t care the approach for the first time.

    "I guess so." he said and began to sweat as his pain had started to dull.

    As far as O''Connell could remember, he suffered from severe painful headache since the day he knew he had head on his shoulders. Therapists and paramedics hadn¡¯t found the exact explanation for it but they had deduced the reason had to be injury or uncommon migraine. He expected the reason to be head injury because he had no memory of his childhood. His sub conscious mind was all right (part which controls instincts and general intelligence) but his conscious mind had no idea what had happened to him in his childhood. From many years he had been taking psychological therapies which had proven to be nothing for improvement. It was just about a couple of months ago when he had quit the psychiatric sessions and was back on his normal routine. He did not have any problems on day to day things like making coffee, doing maths, remembering lines from movies and many more things like so. It seemed as if his sub conscious mind was the one harmed due to some reason and was reason behind his brainwash. As a result, he had no idea of how his friends looked back then. Just some photos of his pals were evidences of his childhood. But who wanted pictures which could not remind someone of something relatable to it. In many sleepless nights, he regretted losing childhood is more painful than losing some addictive people.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere."I think he needs some rest." one of his friends said. They were inside a noisy pub and they faced difficulty in finding out a comfortable place for him. However, O''Connell was seated on a dating couch alone (with headache). O''Connell told them not to be too anxious about his well being and closed his eyes for relief.

    Drugs wasn¡¯t just his addiction but was compulsion due to headache. What pain killers failed to do, drugs surpassed in making the pain leave him for a while. LSD, Ketamine, Marijuana, Lude and other party drugs worked better than Norvil or Ibrufen. But he had faced nausea and hallucination as the side effect.

    It was evening in five and he already wanted to go home when he faced dizziness after the pain was gone. As always, he was sweaty like he had come straight out of shower with clothes on. With the agonizing pain being gone, he desired to have some alcohol.

    "I think I should be using these drugs less." He told himself due to uncontrollable dizziness. More than it, his mother had left him due to the same addiction. His mother now resided somewhere in Portland with the rest of her surviving sisters, she had left him in the house on his own, two months ago, due to an awkward circumstance inside the house.

    "You need help?" someone touched his shoulder. Whether it was drugs or dizziness, he was unable to recognize the voice. Nor he was able to relate it with someone he knew. To his fortune, it was the only doze of cocaine and Ecstasy O''Connell had taken in the entire day. It was the least he had had in a year.

    "I ¨C I - I am fine." He answered firmly.

    But the middle aged man kept looking at him.

    "Who''re you? I''ve never seen you anywhere before¡­"

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.11)

    "Raymond, you can call me by it." the man looked as if he wanted to tell O''Connell something. O''Connell knew he was going to tell him something he had no interest in hearing. It was just matter of time then after, "Hello," he smiled in dim light, "I need to tell you something."

    "Why are you staring at me like this?" O''Connell raised his back from where he was leaning.

    "Because I''ve killed O''Connell." Raymond said. It made O''Connell feel sudden burst of energy within him and sensed like he was being pissed on by a prank. His name was O''Connell, was just feeling sick, but was alive.

    "Yes, I''ve killed him." Raymond was up to making eye contact now.

    "No, you did not." Allan said when he realized he was in a crisis. By looking O''Connell in attempt to leave, Raymond darted a question straight at him which made him feel like he had been petrified, "Did you get any strange phone call about a week ago?"

    Oh no! O''Connell said nothing for a moment, "No, absolutely not."

    "Lies! I hate them. Somebody strange had called you."

    "I''ve a fucking landline phone. I get calls and wrong number along with them, you queer ¨C " now O''Connell began to swear to a complete stranger.

    "You''ve got no idea how much hiding information can cost you tonight. Neither have you got idea whom you''re swearing at right now. A woman had called you a week ago."

    O''Connell couldn¡¯t believe it.

    Almost a week ago O''Connell had received a call from an unknown woman in his home''s landline number. The call seemed nothing more than intentional prank because the speaker in seemed to be in melancholy, "Allan, please don¡¯t do it. For your sake, please don¡¯t."

    He had got the same type of call for two times on the same phone. He had no idea why the caller wasn¡¯t calling him on his private cell if it was so serious scenario. And peculiarly, the woman had managed to call him when he was inside his house every time with accuracy. But he had to admit, even though he had presumed it as a prank call by someone, the cry baby voice was too realistic to be ignored like a jest. O''Connell had no hint what she was pleading him not to do. One day, he had received a voice message but couldn¡¯t understand it. The voice and the detail of phone message looked very strange and somewhat scary as well.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    After it, no single call came on the line nor did he use his phone over his iPhone.

    "In recent days, something terrible has happened to some people and this call is its result." Raymond reminded himself and warned O''Connell.

    "Why did you kill O''Connell?" he asked him, even though he knew the man could turn out to be dangerous at any time. Maybe he had killed someone else by mistake.

    "Secret for secret. It''s how I deal. Share to me what the woman had told you in the call."

    Oh Lord! He even knows it! "I ain''t getting calls." He mumbled.

    "Don¡¯t lie on this fatal topic boy. You think the girl is done with you because recently no calls have come? You''re wrong. It was me who had cut the phone line so you don¡¯t get any further calls and remain safe."

    This man came in my house and how come I have no idea?

    "Don¡¯t be scared," Raymond sympathized, "And don¡¯t outsmart me. We all know you are getting calls."

    "WE?!" O''Connell frowned, "Who else knows?"

    "Many. So tell me about it before anyone comes to kill you for the same secret after some time. You don¡¯t know but your life is in danger." Raymond told in serious tone.

    "You said you''ve killed O''Connell¡­You somehow sneaked in my house. I reckon you must be familiar with my name, then, right?"

    "When you reach there, tell the people that Raymond has killed O''Connell ¨C"

    "Whoa! I''m not going anywhere!"

    "Now, listen lad," Raymond grabbed his T ¨C Shirt, "I know who the caller is. Once you reach there then you''ll find out who she was. I just want to know what she had said in the call. Once you tell me what she had said then maybe I can find her location or decipher her words somehow."

    "I admit it, I was getting calls." O''Connell stammered, "But you said you''ve killed O''Connell. You cut phone line of my house. You are saying there are many people out there who know I exist. You sound more like to a threat than safety to me."

    Raymond locked his eyes with Allan''s after his words hit his ears, "Beware lad, some people are on the verge to kill you. In fact, they''re on the way to here right now and can arrive anytime. The Redmen are brutal as hell. Right now, nobody can be useful than me on this earth for you. They may arrive here any moment. The men who are willing to take your life belong to a society called Ait¨®untes."

    "You mean Redmen from Ait¨®untes know I was getting mysterious calls and they can hurt me for the same reason?"

    "No, not just hurt. They can kill you. In fact, whether you choose to tell them the secret or not, they''ll kill you anyways."

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.12)

    O''Connell''s eyes depicted disbelief and Raymond realized, "Will you believe you and some other people were being watched, not since a year or two but, since decades just in order to confirm who and what you folks are?"

    "So ¨C so why aren¡¯t they after them? Why me?"

    "Ait¨®untes has killed them all and you''re the only one alive."

    "What? And you still haven¡¯t figured out my name yet ¨C"

    "You''re living inside a shell. Getting in the core has reality which had granted you something which possessed by someone two millenniums ago. You''ll figure out your name when you''ll reach at the place where I''m telling you to go¡­"

    O''Connell looked pale in fear. He decided he wasn¡¯t going to tell Raymond his name. Then he told what the woman had said to him and about the strange voice message at last.

    Raymond also appeared to be confused about the voice message.

    "Will I get to know who called me?" O''Connell questioned.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    "All you need to be concerned about is saving your life. Now, you''ve told me about it so, come with me wherever I take you to."

    "How can I even show trust up on you?" O''Connell interrupted.

    "Because I didn¡¯t even hurt you when you were drugged inside your house for many nights. And look, I haven¡¯t even touched you. If you were to be hurt by me, you would have been dead by now." Raymond said to O''Connell, who was gazing at his shirt''s wrinkle caused by Raymond''s grip.

    "Follow me." Raymond rose up.

    But he didn¡¯t opt to get on his feet. When Raymond noticed the hesitation and looked back at him who something to say, "Let me go to restroom first."

    Raymond stood silent when O''Connell got on his feet from the couch and started making his way slow through the drunken crowd.

    The way to restroom was empty as usual because nobody wanted to waste their time in toilet instead of alcohol and other high making substances. He sensed his feet tremble with each step and with every step, strength coming back inside his limbs.

    When he was near the door of bathroom then he could hear tramps of someone approaching towards him. Without even looking back, he spoke out loud, "Raymond, let me get in here alone. Please!"

    But no reply came. Instead he heard click of an army knife being unfolded. O''Connell froze in fear when he noticed the man''s facial features were nowhere near Raymond. He was not even Raymond. He was somebody dangerous, instead, who had a grip on six inched long shining sharp knife.

    Most importantly, O''Connell had nowhere to go. He was at the end of passage trapped like a cornered mouse.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.13)

    "What do you want?" O''Connell asked him in horror even though he was quiet sure the man was in no mood to reply him.

    In response the man said nothing but ran straight at him. O''Connell tried to scream but found himself trying to duck from the knife''s range. For a second he was sure the knife soon would be planted somewhere in his body. At the moment O''Connell understood how coward he was because neither could he escape nor could fight. The bar ¨C fight seemed to have taken a serious turn at the moment.

    O''Connell ducked for the second time and took the simple way of avoiding any injury on himself. He punted him hard on side of his head and heard it crack.

    But still the man hadn¡¯t got off his feet. Seeing the condition somewhat equalized he opened the door and then slammed it on the attacker''s face. He dropped the knife and put his hand on door''s frame in pain. Showing no mercy, O''Connell slammed the door back again. The door and the frame literally cut his couple of fingers in two as if they were being chopped from Guillotine Drop.

    When O''Connell had risen up by holding the long knife, the attacker stunned him with an unforeseen low blow. He felt extreme agony convert into sudden numbness between his legs. He had no idea if something used to be there or not.

    O''Connell found himself clothesline the man. Then, even in pain, realized the knife was still in his firm grip. The man tried to rise up. He straight away threw himself along with knife pointed right at him. Both of them crashed inside the narrow bathroom. As the man''s head hit on porcelain toilet seat, O''Connell heard bizarre sound of metal piercing flesh.

    O''Connell rolled his eyeballs down on the floor to discover blood, which wasn¡¯t his, and when his eyes rolled back to the attacker then he discovered nothing but an agonized face looking at him. Eyes had turned bloodshot and his failed attempts to breathe made O''Connell look down at the knife which had gone through his chest and almost had come from the other side.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    O''Connell turned insane, for a while, as soon as he got to his feet and began wildly stomping in the knife even though he knew the attacker was already dead. He kept stomping until the knife''s blade had disappeared in the man''s body until just black plastic hilt was visible.

    With the numbness, his desire to urinate had also disappeared. He sensed warmth in his pants passing down from between his legs. He was relieved to find out it was not blood. He had pissed in his pants by the blow below his belt he had suffered earlier.

    Before he could run he heard tramps coming towards the bathroom in very fast pace. He looked down at the corpse and saw someone look from the open door at him.

    For his relief, he was nobody but Raymond. He looked as bewildered as him. First he looked at the corpse and rolled his eyes up to O''Connell and his wet pant.

    It didn¡¯t look like Raymond was displeased with the act. He looked more relieved by the death along with the view of O''Connell still standing with head on his shoulders. He saw O''Connell grab his crotch, "Now what?" he groaned in pain.

    "Oh lad! I''m afraid because they''ve already tracked you. God Almighty! We''re late." Raymond spoke in utter disbelief. O''Connell didn¡¯t know how to react with pain in his genitals. The attacker was a Redman ¨C an agent of Ait¨®untes society. He could see Raymond inch towards the body and look at the knife half buried inside the body.

    "He''s a Redman. Jesus! I can''t believe they already know you¡¯re here. My Jesus!" Raymond spoke by touching a small metallic badge on Redman''s chest carved R, "You must displace something right now!"

    "What about the body? We can''t leave it like this ¨C"

    "Screw the body. You''re leaving this pub right now! And then you''ll possess the asset. You were lucky because I found it suspicious whenyou were taking a long time here ¨C"

    "Give it to me then, whatever the asset is."

    "You''re wrong¡­the asset isn¡¯t with me. It''s somewhere else. And tragically, some Redmen already have idea where you are and where you can be." Raymond bewared him.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.14)

    "H ¨C how can you be so sure he''s a Redman? Can''t he be a minor doped aggressive guy who got high and lost his control ¨C" Alan said.

    "He attempted to kill you. It''s not Rocket Science. Spotting a Redman can''t get more easier for me." Raymond told him but he knew even a well aware man like him couldn¡¯t discover a Redman (unless they showed signs of being a Redman). Redmen''s involvement were often rumored for paranormal incidents but not a single person was ever accused to be one of them. But the rumors surrounded in some specific circle of people that First Order of Ait¨®untes (the highest ranked individual in society) could sense presence of divine - satanic forces called The Prophets.

    Not long ago in Anderson Island, the First Order had confidentially been to unveil a strange force in Benjamin Hansen''s house. Since then Hansen hadn¡¯t been seen again anywhere. Only a dead body was found there who was insignificant for cops but First Order had confirmed him to be The Prophet. The only Prophet who had lost his life¡­He knew presence of one Prophet meant presence of others like them too.

    The sighting was nothing more than a cold blooded homicide to the outer world but was chaos for deep circle of people in Ait¨®untes society. Since then, the manhunt had taken place. The same event had triggered the dormant group to be active again. And the call to O''Connell had taken the role of pivotal point.

    "Have you brought your car here?" Raymond panicked.

    O''Connell nod.

    "Blue Ford with big dent on the bumper? Is it the one?"

    He nod again in amusement of how much the man already knew about him.

    "Good, I had doubted if it was yours or not. Let''s leave now."

    After reaching downstairs O''Connell pointed at his blue Ford in the lot. Till now, the murdered Redman was yet to be discovered by a drunkard with extreme urge to use the bathroom.

    Raymond kept watching O''Connell taking out his car from parking lot and stop in front of him. Then the door swung open from inside.

    "You must go alone. He''s in Wells Fargo Bank. Hmm¡­follow route 705 towards north and you''ll see the bank at Pacific Avenue. Get in the bank and meet someone named Henry Taggart. He may feel awkward to help you but take my name and watch the result boost up. He will help you at any expense." Raymond told him in hurry and slammed the door close before O''Connell could even open his mouth in order to speak.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    "Why don¡¯t you come with me if it is hard to convince Taggart-?"

    "NO! No means no! I''m restricted because I''ve got a duty for tonight." Raymond stopped him in mid question, "Consider you lucky to have fought off, and somehow win, against a Redman. Minutes later maybe dozen of them will come and you won''t be so lucky then ¨C"

    "They know I am here. I''m sure they also know my car''s number. I am not safe this way either. Just your assistance can help me now, not Taggart. So I beg you, get in!" O''Connell was now pleading and the Ford''s door swung open again.

    But Raymond again slammed the door but this time in fierce tone as if he was a Lieutenant commanding a new recruited troop, "Find Henry Taggart."

    "Are you thinking to trick me and send me straight where Ait¨®untes is supposed to be? I presume you''re one of them for you know everything about the society ¨C"

    "If I wanted then I could have kept you locked in until they arrived. If I wanted to ruse you then you would not have seen my face. Instead it could have been you instead of poor Redman dead in the restroom."

    "Let''s call cops. I think it will be wise if I''m in custody."

    "If they find out you''re in custody then they''ll either wait until you come out after a bale or they''ll send someone to kill you. The idea acts as an elixir, not as immortality nectar. So, get your ass in the bank and meet Mr. Taggart. Tell him you''re here because of me and he''ll help you for sure. I will call him and you too¡­"

    "Does the asset belong to Taggart?" O''Connell asked when he was about to step on the accelerator.

    "It doesn¡¯t belong to him either."

    O''Connell was disappointed once again, "You mean to say, whatever is in there, it''s just mine?"

    "Not just yours. It belongs to C¨¦lestine D''Amares from Chateau Village in France."

    "Who''s D''Amares now?"

    "Enough. Move your ass now. Take it and I''ll tell you want to do next."

    To his surprise, O''Connell pressed the accelerator and without any further question and moved on in dawn for Wells Fargo Bank.

    When O''Connell was out of Raymond''s sight then Raymond slowly went towards his car and unlocked the back door. There he looked at a coffin which had been inside his car for the entire day.

    He took a long breath and smoked for a while in momentary peace. I may get killed for doing this. Taggart can face the similar fate. If my current plan goes wrong then I''ll have to switch it with backup and ¡­ act as elixir¡­

    Raymond took out some coins from his shirt''s pocket along with a badge carved with R,2Ord.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.15)

    A man hurried from the customs check in Tacoma Narrows International Airport as soon as the Boeing jet aircraft had landed on the runway down. He had arrived straight come Cuba from a transit flight.

    The man was known as First Order from Ait¨®untes knew he was late and could imagine what his absence could have caused there. I was right. Satanic forces are already here who behold divine power with them. Prophets are here¡­

    Nobody in Ait¨®untes knew First Order''s identity. This small circle of dangerous people with motive of removing any divine force was left like a mad house without him.

    He hurried to a local phone booth and dialed a number after inserting a coin.

    The receiver answered the call in a single ring, "Master, we know where O''Connell is. We event had sent a Redman in there to bring him to us but he isn¡¯t answering the call. Maybe something wrong has happened to the Redman ¨C"Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    First Oder knew the process had been botched in his absence in a blink.

    "How can a simple kidnap go wrong?" First Order raged at the receiver.

    "We wanted to know further instructions from you but your number was out of reach the caused flaw."

    "I was in a flight. There was no chance you could have contacted me. Now perhaps he has escaped."

    "But we still have a chance. Redmen are all over here."

    "Who is there with you?"

    "Third Order and me. Second Order is on the way but he''ll be her anytime soon."

    First Order knew nothing was more valuable for an Order than punctuality.

    "He is not coming," First Order snapped, "And maybe the coffin is also missing. Second Order was handed the coffin. I''m damn sure he''s the reason our Redman isn¡¯t responding. Nobody from outer world has ever spotted a Redman. Never."

    If the coffin was gone then nothing could stop O''Connell from escaping, "I know whom Second Order will suggest O''Connell to meet. I had suspicion on Taggart since the very beginning. Send one of our men to him. Taggart maybe the only help for O''Connell if Second Order is on his side. Go to Wells Fargo Bank. If my suspicion is right then either O''Connell or Second Order will go there."

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.16)

    Wells Fargo Bank,

    Pacific Avenue,

    Henry Taggart wondered how he had got pimple even at the age of sixty. The well reputed and respected state bank employee was the most experienced banker in Wells Fargo. But since he had contacted H1N1 in New South Wales, Australia, he realized his respiratory strength turn faint day by day. For a week he had been in Intensive Care Unit breathing barely by the help of a ventilator.

    The recovery process had caused the bank to give him an unused room for him where he could work in a separate and peaceful surrounding. He was grateful for the favor but knew the room was same to be vacated because authorities were discussing ideas of establishing a counseling facility vault.

    Specific vault.

    His working time was over and he had concluded all the entries. He looked at his thin fingers suffering from vitiligo due to his age. Pigmentation of skin was also taken along with his hair and stamina by the time. He had no idea how much was to be snatched away from him. Blink of an eye and what you were affectionate about¡­.gone¡­ For a while he couldn¡¯t move his eyes off his paper like thin skin. The day was to come. The day has come when I sit on chair and think about my past. The painful past which still had power to shed tears off his eyes. What he feared wasn¡¯t his youth gone but something it had taken away from him at the meantime.

    Sooner or later you will lose what was with you¡­You will yearn for it to come back but it won''t return, he remembered telling this to his companions.

    He turned off his computer and cracked his fingers exhausted of typing. He was on his feet ready to leave when his cell phone rang.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    The caller was the one whose voice he hadn¡¯t forgotten since a decade -Second Order.

    The caller did not waste any time and told him to give the asset which was with him to someone. He had told O''Connell could reach there in some ten minutes.

    Even a minute hadn¡¯t passed after the call was hung when the speaker on his vault spoke in as usual female voice, "Mr. Taggart. You''ve got a visitor. He''s coming to your cabin."

    How can O''Connell come so early? He said ten minutes. He can never be doubted for calculation of time. Then he got idea what was the reason behind this. Second Order hadn¡¯t called him for over a decade. Taggart remembered his words last time, "Forget we know each other. I''ll call you only if there''s a crisis. Now hang up the call!"

    The rude good-bye and the visitor along with crisis situation could mean only one thing but he knew it was too late when he heard tramps on the passage coming towards his door.

    Without any delay, he caught paper and pen then started to scribble something.

    Without even knocking someone entered inside his cabin. The man looked like O''Connell.

    "Mr. Taggart, I need your help." He spoke.

    Taggart got up with his eyes squinted down at the table, "In case you desire my help. I am honored to do service for you ser." Then Taggart clumsily went out from his desk.

    "Come my lord, I shalt help you," then he looked at O''Connell''s face with precison. Then he started to walk shoulder to shoulder with him like he was about to use his body to shove him.

    O''Connell''s face was smooth as not even a tiny spot of bruise or black heads were visible and his face looked far silkier than his back of hand.

    "This must be a Redman." He had started to doubt himself but he could not ignore Raymond''s call.

    For a while he gazed at the man''s forehead. He had been sweating from his neck but not from the face ¨C the shiny face. It was not hard for him to realize that prosthetic masks never do sweat but the impersonator underneath it does.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.17)

    The lady receptionist named Cathy Worne was on the bottom floor and had just come back to her desk after assisting her friend to arrange files. She had found her red shirt too much itchy due to sweat and so was her back of neck due to a bruise. Mrs. Worne knew what the reason was which had resulted bruise on back of her neck. She had kept it hidden for the whole day but at the time she had no intentions of veiling the bruise from her hair. Worne then looked around and started tying her hair in ponytail structure making the red cut exposed.

    The reason behind the small cut was enough to make her depressed for the whole day.

    When she was done tying then a sweaty man rushing towards her came in her sight. As anticipated, the man spoke through the semi ¨C circular hole in the glass panel. He looked as if he was trying his best to squeeze his head in from the glass.

    "Henry Taggart. I need to meet him." O''Connell gasped but saw the receptionist look at him as she had never seen a man before. He had no idea if she had found his face strange of it was his pierced lower lip. She would have been amazed if she had known he had declared himself Straight ¨C Edge a year ago but had broken the so called oath.

    "What are you staring at? Tell me where he is." O''Connell spoke.

    "I find it really strange for a man to annoy me by asking the same question twice. You asked me the same question ten minutes ago and now you again return here to flirt or what? This time with pierced lip¡­ Umm¡­pierced lips show swag don¡¯t they?" she asked by being disgusted.

    My Gosh! Someone like me was here?

    Watching O''Connell react strange, she told him in confused manner, "Third floor and fifth door to the right. You''ll find nameplate there on door''s top."

    "Is he still here? Or he already is out?" O''Connell turned back to question even after he had rushed.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    "I have no idea. I had been busy with my friend since you had asked for Mr. Taggart." she awkwardly answered but found he had run without listening to the full answer.

    As anticipated, Taggart''s room was empty and he had not even turned off the air conditioner. O''Connell reckoned Taggart must have left the asset there for him. He moved his working desk and started to look for anything with an unusual appearance.

    He was frustrated as hell and wanted to call Raymond to ask where it was. Was it a paper or any sort of metallic object? He would have left the room and waited for Raymond''s call if he hadn¡¯t seen a white paper sheet near the keyboard of PC. The pen was on paper and writing looked as if Taggart was in hurry while writing.

    O''Connell picked up the paper and saw something scribbled on it.

    18-052-9-231-177-332

    He turned other side of the page to see if something was written there as well or not. But discovered nothing on the other side.

    For sure it was written by Taggart but he had no hint what it could mean. For some minutes he kept moving his mind along with paper for nothing. What can this number be?

    An idea struck him abruptly. He was in bank and the number could only mean bank account password. Taggart had given him pin number to unlock the bank account.

    O''Connell wasted no time and then ran towards Cathy and handed her the parchment, "I need access to this bank account please. Can you help me to deal with this?"

    Maybe she had sensed it was an important matter for him so she checked for the account number. It was an immense relief for him that those days, banks accepted access to their accounts or any transaction any time in twenty four hours.

    She took longer time for it. She looked a bit annoyed. O''Connell was about to ask her what the problem was but she spoke first, "Sir, you''ve got problem. I''m afraid."

    "What what can happen now?" he asked, again attempting to put his head through in.

    "Sir, this account number does not belong to our bank." the answer made his jaw drop. Now he no longer was in mission to get inside from slot on the panel.

    "It is not account number from this bank. Sorry. I double checked it." she smiled while every muscle in her face showed empathy and handed him back the paper sheet even though O''Connell was hesitating to take it.

    "Do you know where this number belongs to?" asked O''Connell.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.18)

    "Do you know where this number belongs to?" asked O''Connell.

    "I am afraid again¡­I don¡¯t know about this." her smile grew even wider while she was announcing more bad news.

    He stepped back and looked at the numbers by wondering where it could point at. He wanted Raymond to call him at any cost.

    Panicked guy sat inside his car waiting from Raymond to call him. He had been looking at his phone in hope the screen would glow with numbers on the display.

    Whether it was his luck or he had been thinking about the call for all the time, it didn¡¯t surprise him when the screen lighted up with ringtone and numbers appeared. He answered the call, "Raymond. Is this you?"

    "Hmm¡­," came the humming reply he had always hated.

    "I''ve got another problem in here. Taggart is missing and he''s left me a number which I suppose to be bank account number which doest even belong to here ¨C"

    "Calm down! He told me he had it displaced after he had heard Ait¨®untes had begun to kill people with suspicions."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    "Maybe he had displaced it but I''ve goddamn number on paper which I cannot even use as toilet paper!" then O''Connell punched the steering for the paper still had some significance left in it, "This damn number can be anything. Maybe it still is a bank number but how can I locate it when I don¡¯t have any idea where it belongs to. He could have written bank name to make my work easier but ¨C"

    "He did as much as he could. He was up to guiding you to the spot by himself but messed up circumstances have ruined everything. He didn¡¯t share where he had it hidden but had told me in cryptic way that he hadn¡¯t hidden the thing in place where you haven¡¯t been before." answer came from the other end.

    "So you mean to say wherever this number points at is the place I''ve already been to."

    "I can assure you about it¨C"

    "He''s a banker and he barely knows anything beyond if you talk of numbers. The object is small enough to fit inside a bank locker as well. So it must be pointing a bank." O''Connell took a long breath while changing gear to two, "If the number means a bank then situation may not get easier because I''ve even been to banks of Oklahoma and many others I cannot even remember. I''ve visited dozen of banks. How am I supposed to find the exact one?"

    "Wherever the bank is, you must have been there a lot of times¡­"

    O''Connell did not speak for a long time. Raymond just went on shouting from the other end, "Hey you! You! Listen carefully!"

    Raymond then heard petrified voice on his phone, "I think I know where it is."

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.19)

    After Raymond heard the answer he told O''Connell, "Listen to me. Whatever the object guides you to is for your own good. Don¡¯t hesitate to leave the city or this Washington State¡­Good. Don¡¯t call me on this number again¡­I am about to dispose this. Don¡¯t try to find me and do whatever the object tells you to do. You won''t be very disappointed when you have reached to your circle."

    Then he hung up the call and as he had told, pulled out the SIM card from slot. He wandered inside the house to find a dustbin and instead of throwing it like a rag, he hid in pile of dirt making it impossible to find. Then he dumped his Second Order badge in the same manner. Raymond knew the house could be searched by someone so he was making those hard to find. Because he was in O''Connell''s house.

    As he looked at O''Connell''s and his mother''s photo on the wall then he said, "Allan O''Connell. I am afraid I had to lie by saying I had you killed. But I am going to do it now."

    Why didn¡¯t I think about it earlier? Why I wasted my time in Wells Fargo waiting for Raymond''s call? O''Connell was thinking when he was driving his car towards South on I -705. All he needed to do was to get on 41<sup>st</sup> Street because it could be the only place where numbers from Taggart could lead at.

    It''s the place I''ve been to before, he told himself when he was confident the account number belonged to Bank of American Financial Center. O''Connell had forgotten his mother also had bank account in there before she had left Seattle.

    The bank wasn¡¯t a rough ride and also wasn¡¯t much far from there. He could reach there in ten minutes if he wasn¡¯t caught by any Redman. It was not getting dark and he wasn¡¯t used to of driving cars on busy I -705.

    At the time he realized a drugged target could be the easiest person to attack on. To his fortune, his headache was reason why he wasn¡¯t dead by now.

    In the chaos he had forgotten this had begun due to strange phone calls to him from an unknown woman. The last words she had told him on the phone still echoed in his ears.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Is this sentence reason for people hunting me? If it was the reason then he no longer was the only man who knew it. Raymond had said he had killed O''Connell ¨C me! What does it even mean to him?

    Bewildered, he parked his car in park lot area of the bank by wondering what could exist in there.

    He had been to there for lots of time but he had no bank account till the date in there. This meant the bank account was probably on Henry Taggart''s name.

    He was taken to a room by a person in there. Unaware of whatever the object was, he walked along with him until he was told, "Ser, please wait here for a while.

    Bound by his nature, he impatiently waited for the man to come back with the object. There was a clock on the wall and he had just waited there for not more than a couple of minutes which felt like he had been sitting on the chair, cross legged, for more than two hours.

    He could hear the door being unlocked and within few seconds he returned with something O''Connell never had thought could be a material to face chaos for.

    The banker had a briefcase in his hand and held it like there was nothing more than papers inside there. The briefcase looked very light.

    Seconds later when the briefcase was in O''Connell''s hand then he was amused to find out the briefcase felt hollow. He could see the briefcase wasn¡¯t even locked in a proper way. He was quiet sure something was there but no matter whatever it was held the power to save his life.

    He thanked the banker and then went towards the parking lot to unlock the briefcase and check thing inside there.

    On the way to his car he heard something collide on the walls of the briefcase, he ran in, locked the car''s door from inside and unlocked the briefcase.

    As anticipated there were some papers. One could be identified as passport, even in the bad light, but it didn¡¯t look like as usual USA logo on the cover page. It was dark inside the car but still he could see a citizenship and driving license with his photograph attached on it. Even the words were almost impossible to read in dark he had no trouble in spotting his photo.

    "Can this help me?" O''Connell wondered because those were things he already had with him. His driving license was even with him right now. Passport was the sole thing he had not made yet and never had seen the passport cover with such emblem embossed on it. If legal papers were enough to save his life then he assumed he never was in any danger, "But he was saying this belongs to someone named D''Amares from Chateau Village."

    The next thing his eyes fell upon made him feel it could help him somehow. There was also an envelope with hand written words on it:

    OBEY THIS¡­

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.20)

    O''Connell tore open the envelope and what came out was close to a ticket with some extra paper sheets along.

    "Seattle Tacoma International Airport," he pronounced after facing no difficulty to read bold big text on its top. O''Connell''s jaw dropped in melancholia when he understood everything how it was.

    Raymond didn¡¯t want him to leave the city. Instead he wanted him to leave the country. The dim light was causing difficulty for him to read but he took the passport and flipped its pages. He found out the passport had been used multiple times afore because immigration stickers were present on the pages.

    The airport wasn¡¯t very far from his current location. The airport was somewhere between ten to fifteen kilometers distant.

    Little by little, he took out his car from the parking lot and then he stepped on the accelerator hard. No matter how weird it was but Raymond had saved his life and he was grateful for it. But he still had questions in his mind ¨C why was he saying he had killed O''Connell and what had those documents to do with D''Amares?

    He took out his mobile phone and attempted to call on the number back from where Raymond had called. As expected, the number had been disposed and now O''Connell was alone on his own. He didn¡¯t stop dialing the number for several times but there was nothing he could do which could make Raymond to use the same number back again.

    After driving for some five minutes his mobile started to ring. He pulled the phone out from his Levis'' jeans and then received the call.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Raymond! Thanks God, you''ve called me ¨C"

    "Allan¡­help me¡­" a faint voice spoke in weakness. The voice was not of Raymond. Instead, it was a woman''s voice.

    "Allan¡­I''m in trouble." the woman on line pleaded while O''Connell kept listening to her by full attention during his drive. He never had driven at night in condition.

    "You''re the damn reason Ait¨®untes is behind me. Do you have any idea how many lives your phone call has claimed? I''m grateful to somebody that I''m alive till yet ¨C"

    But the caller burst into sobbing.

    Allan O''Connell had no idea how to react when he realized the sound was somewhat familiar and different than the woman who had called him then.

    O''Connell felt like a pyramid had fallen on his chest when he realized it was his mother''s voice.

    "Mom¡­is this you?"

    "Yes¡­" she sobbed again in terror.

    "Where are you? W ¨C wh ¨C what happened?" he was tensed after discovering his mother wasn¡¯t safe and the reason for the mishap could be him.

    "Some days ago, a group of people abducted me. I don¡¯t know what happened to me after it. I was unconscious because of a syringe ¨C"

    "Where are you now? Do you have any clue?"

    "I don¡¯t know. I''m in a car''s trunk and the car is still being driven. Maybe someone, by error, had dropped his phone here. This is why I''ve managed to call you." She explained in voice which was losing strength with every word. He was aware if the voice could go fragile then so could the person of her age.

    He had no idea where she was being taken to. For a moment he thought to turn his car towards his house before he recalled what Raymond had done for him and what Taggart had been through for his safety. Maybe Taggart was dead by now. O''Connell''s life was too valuable for being wasted and past few events had proven it well in a persuading manner.

    He doubted Ait¨®untes was behind this because there was no other reason for someone to kidnap his mother. Searching for his mother could take him closer to her as well as closer to them.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.21)

    "I''m in a conspiracy. My fate may be cemetery." he spoke on the phone. He had no possibility of finding his mother who claimed he was in a moving car''s trunk. His mother suffered from asthma attacks time to time. Truth was, she was about to die of suffocation at any time because she was in an enclosed space without an aspirator. He could not risk by letting sacrifices of Raymond and Taggart to perish for a woman who was going to die anyways.

    "Soon it will be over," he wept on the phone, "I''m very very sorry. If is stop then I''ll get myself killed¡­"

    "Don¡¯t worry¡­I''ll die a ¨C a silent death¡­a peaceful one¡­" then the voice of crying came. He could hear she already had started to suffocate ¨C from her shortening breaths. Even the sobbing resembled to hiccups. It was a terrible feeling to hear somebody dying on the phone.

    He didn¡¯t hang up the call until he saw a towering building with lights in front of him. It was Saint Joseph Medical Center. He checked his pocked and discovered some hundred dollars stuffed in it. He had made his mind on buying tablets of Acetaminophen and Naproxen for the possible headache attack which had chance of starting at any time.

    As he drew closer to the building he put on the brakes of his car and ran outside it. He still had his phone on his ear and even though no voice came from there. He was about to hang up the call when the voice said, "Allan¡­I think they are about to take me out of here. The car has stopped."

    O''Connell was walking with giant leaps until he heard the sentence from his dying mother. He paused and almost dropped his phone.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Lisey O''Connell could feel her inability to breath in the uncomfortable car trunk. She knew the suffering was soon going to end because she couldn¡¯t survive on her weak lungs without aspirator for next five minutes.

    She could see nothing in the darkness but it couldn¡¯t stop her from hearing someone''s hand moving on the metal roof above her. She was right. Someone was about to unlock it. She knew her action to defend herself could be fatal. All she did was hiding a small handset inside her torso.

    With a thump the narrow vault opened and above her was open night sky with stars. She felt breeze hit her face which was covered in sweat. For a lot of das she hadn¡¯t seen light for she never had woken up in the meantime. She got dazzled and blinked when she attempted to look what was in front of her. She saw more stars and moon but this time someone was staring down at her.

    She found hard to believe what she thought was seeing.

    This must be hallucination!

    She was wrong about the hallucination. What stood in front of her was real. The face of Allan O''Connell wasn¡¯t a hallucination.

    "God Almighty!" O''Connell looked down in despair. He never knew but Raymond was the one who had put her in there from the coffin which he had brought with him in the bar. He then understood the reason behind Raymond''s desire to know if it was his car or not.

    He couldn¡¯t be more relieved but he knew what she required the most wasn¡¯t her son''s presence but the aspirator.

    She took her out of there and put her in the back seat of the car.

    "I''ll get the aspirator." he said and locked the door with window panes wide open.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.22)

    The security officer looked art someone who had just taken out a woman from her his car''s trunk. Guard never had seen anything like it from CCTV happening in parking level of SJMC. It didn¡¯t take for the suspicious person to shift her from trunk to inside the car.

    The officer switched CCTV footage and again caught the same man. This time he was in queue on pharmacy region. He looked nowhere near to a normal person with motive to seek medical care. He already had proven it earlier when he had taken out a woman out of his car''s trunk. Such activity wasn¡¯t something to look over for a guard responsible for watch. The man in the CCTV room picked up the receiver and dialed the number of the pharmacy section. He waited with receiver on his ear and could see the pharmacist receive the call few seconds later.

    "Listen Jacques, a man is on the queue there and I reckon he has kidnapped a woman. He has stretched ear lube and looks baby - face from here. I think it won''t be difficult to figure out whom I''m talking about."If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "I can see him." the individual said from the counter after seeing him.

    "I am about to send one of our men to note his car''s number plate, which later shall be in cops'' desk. Now, I want you to do something."

    "What?" pharmacist questioned after discovering O''Connell''s turn was the after one guy.

    "He looks in pain. Maybe he is going to take some medicines right there after the purchase. I want you to give him a sleeping pill or strength draining capsules along with medicines he will ask for."

    "Should we be taking matter in our own hands? I don¡¯t find it wise move. Can''t we don¡¯t let this man go and call the cops later?"

    "This is a hospital. We want no chaos. What if he has means of defense with him or some other men like him here? Give him some sleeping pills by saying it''s a supportive drug. He can''t turn down a pharmacist from renowned SJMC. How much time will it take for it to make him sleep?"

    "Depends on the dose we give ¨C"

    "Give him the strongest." Officer said and hung the call. Seconds later he began to dial number of Tacoma Police Department.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.23)

    O''Connell ran inside his car with some pain killers, along with a new supportive drug, and with an aspirator. His mother was breathing as if she was choking on air. While pumping air from the aspirator to her mouth he wondered how she had managed to survive for such long time. Perhaps she had access to oxygen cylinders there.

    After his mother started to regain breath, O''Connell caught his breath and felt relieved as never before. But he knew he had no time to celebrate his triumph so he looked inside the briefcase. He moved his eyes to the plane ticket and discovered the ticket had date printed of current day. Taggart and Raymond had plotted perfect. To his shock, he had failed to notice another ticket stuffed inside one ticket. So basically they had two plane tickets with them. And underneath the pile of papers was another passport which belonged to his mother. Without a doubt it was his mother''s passport which was unused for many years. After confirmation he checked his passport by thinking those could have something to do with someone whom Raymond had called D''Amares.

    He flipped to the first page and saw his photo in darkness. As far as he could guess, they had made his passport without even letting him know.

    He kept searching for some connection of those objects with D''Amares. He felt so dizzy he couldn¡¯t read what was written on those documents. He didn¡¯t know if he was late for the flight or not. He narrowed his eyes and had tough time in figuring out airport number from plane ticket. He called on the number and a male receiver answered the call, "Seattle Tacoma International Airport. How may I help you?"

    "Flight. The flight. I have no idea about the flight number. I just want to know if any planes have left to France or it has yet to take off?"If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    The receiver seemed confused. Flight number? What the hell?

    "Transit or direct ¨C"

    "Seems direct to me."

    "Two planes were scheduled for France. One was this morning and the other one hasn¡¯t taken off. It still is on the runway but I''m afraid sir."

    "For what? It''s the great news for me. I ¨C I''m n ¨C not late." He stuttered.

    "Sir, no flight has taken off since couple of hours. One flight had landed due to emergency but now neither more flights are coming or will take off."

    "What do you mean? Delay or what?" O''Connell said.

    "Sort of delay." he sympathized.

    "Is it a couple of hours'' delay or the shorter one?"

    "Hours? It may cause delay up to two days. Weather has turned so bad in this area, flights can¡¯t take off. Flights may face risk of crashes if air traffic keeps going."

    O''Connell felt like his ear had been hit with a golf ball. He did not respond to him. He sensed himself losing his body temperature and gaining numbness all over his body.

    "Sorry sir." He said. After it, O''Connell didn¡¯t know when the call had been hung. His mobile phone fell on the open front page of his passport.

    The phone''s screen light illuminated words printed on the passport.

    O''Connell read his name in disbelief for several times, finding it hard to trust his eyes. Raymond hadn¡¯t just created a fake passport for him. He had created a whole fake identity for him ¨C ''C¨¦lestine D''Amares''.

    Raymond''s words echoed in his ears, "I killed O''Connell." Now it somewhat made sense to him.

    He backed his car. His escape plan had been ruined. Just one man could help him ¨C Raymond. He knew where Raymond could be.

    He no longer wanted to go in the airport. He ran for his home.

    If my guess is right, about what''s he gonna do next, he can''t be anywhere except my home. He rubbed his eyes¡­pills were working pitch perfect.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.24)

    I must act as Elixir now. Raymond spoke to himself when he got to know further flights were canceled. They''ll kill him if I don¡¯t do my job as Elixir of Life. I''ve failed God and I''ve disappointed him. I''ve embarrassed him and I''ve failed her too.

    I''ve let the faith fail.

    I''ve failed the resurrection. I''ve failed on divine duty.

    Now there was sole way which could save O''Connell. This way wasn¡¯t pleasant thing for both of them but he had to do his duty as elixir. He had to postpone O''Connell''s death somehow which appeared inevitable.

    He took the telephone receiver and called O''Connell, "I''ve disappointed you. I want you to meet me in your house. I think by now you already know where I can be."

    Raymond was pleased to hear they were already on the way.

    "When you come here, I might have left this house. But you will find someone else in this place instead. He shall not be Raymond but will be a guinea pig who did his task with pride. You''ll find someone dead in here but you''ll never see me again."If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "What? Who''re you killing in my house?" O''Connell panicked.

    "I am doing my duty. Come her as quick as possible or Ait¨®untes may get you in the meantime. If you come here, I will make sure you''ll live longer."

    "Whoever is there with you, please spare his life. Don¡¯t kill him."

    "I''m sorry but whether you will like it or not but I must do it. Don¡¯t worry; I shall be long gone by the time you reach here."

    "Don¡¯t do it!" he screamed but his voice sounded sleepy.

    "He may not be fully dead until you come here. He may have left some life within him at the time. If you are in hurry then you may avoid his death¡­"

    "Raymond! Don¡¯t disappear. I may die if you go." O''Connell pleaded in sedated voice.

    "Trust me. If you make it to here well and alive then no matter wherever you shall be in future, you''ll live."

    Raymond took a sip of wine and stared at the liquid acid next to Gin''s bottle. Gin was for him and the acid was for someone who was going to die tonight. He clutched the acid bottle and left his seat.

    I''ve killed O''Connell. Someone else will lose his life tonight. And his life would not go in vain¡­

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.25)

    Allan O''Connell wasn¡¯t sure if it had taken ten or fifteen minutes for them to reach there because he was feeling drained and driving on I ¨C 705 was nothing more than a peril in itself. With every heartbeat of his, he found urge in his eyes which was forcing him to sleep.

    "What''s happening to me?" he had been telling the same thing to her all the way to his house. He knew his sleep deprivation meant nothing when Raymond was going to kill an innocent person inside his house. Whoever he was killing, O''Connell wanted nothing but to save him. More than it, he didn¡¯t want Raymond to leave. Nor he desired any further bloodshed.

    He felt dizzy and could not even sense if he was sleeping or awake. Then he realized he was the one who needed strength instead of his mother. He was unable to walk on a straight path after he unlocked the front door.

    Medicines¡­it''s medicines making me fragile. He knew it but he couldn¡¯t rest for some relief. "Raymond." He shouted as if he was drunk. He smelled cocktail drinks from his clothes. Anybody was going to assume he was in liquor''s effect.

    "Raymond!" he bellowed multiple times without even thinking if he was calling Raymond''s name or was saying Redman.

    "Oh! Watch your steps!" Lisey frowned at him when he ran on a cupboard and knocked it over. Sane was with the aquarium where fishes had already died because of his business in amusing himself instead of feeding starving fishes for a minute.

    His eyes fell on a glass which had leftover drink in it. Someone was here, he reckoned, He was here. He didn¡¯t control his steps and discovered himself running towards kitchen. This came from here.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    WHAM!

    He plunged inside there and couldn¡¯t judge if he was dreaming or not. He wished it better to be a nightmare because he was in no condition of affording it to be for real. Whether it was reality or a nightmare in front of him but it, for sure, was horrific.

    Blood oozed out of his nostrils due to impact of collision on the floor. It was enough for him to ensure it wasn¡¯t a nightmare. This was for real and he had to face it.

    A corpse was laying on the floor.

    "No! No!" O''Connell got on his feet and tried to stir the man but he was already lifeless. His eyes fell on a long knife planted inside his abdomen. He pulled it out and, even though he knew he was dead, he moved at the man''s head to give mouth to mouth resuscitation or modified CPR.

    It then took no time for him to find there was no probability of it.

    The man''s head had no face now. It was like a zombie face where his nose and teeth appeared as a human facial organ. O''Connell sighted ca''s acid thrown near the corpse.

    Is he dead? He started to move his hand on the body''s clothes by hoping Raymond could have left a note for him. He was sure he had left a reason or some sort of explanation for this.

    He was not disappointed. He found a paper parchment in dead man''s pocket. He even saw pen on the dining table. There was a note written:

    ''He is dead isn¡¯t he? He deserved it. He has failed on a divine purpose. Don¡¯t keep wondering who this man was. I''ve left this man''s identity in your bedroom. His death may disappoint you but believe me¡­I have done as much I could do. I have made sure you''ll live more. I hope you''ll live for more couple of years due to this death. I am elixir of your life¡­elixir made by someone''s blood. You drank it Allan, you did¡­''

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.26)

    With the paper in his hand, he rushed up towards his bedroom. He saw a face looking up at him without eyes. He knew the face even though it was a prosthetic mask.

    Raymond was wearing a mask? What I saw wasn¡¯t his real face. In bewilderness he had forgotten to check the paper''s back page. Writing was on there too.

    ''O''Connell is dead. He is in kitchen. Mr. D''Amares¡­I''m gone along.''

    This almost made his sleep vanish. His eyes reached on the wall where a new photo frame he never had seen before was.

    It was his photo somewhere near Eiffel Tower. The nameplate on there was inscribed - C¨¦lestine D''Amares.

    He understood everything now. Raymond''s real identity was C¨¦lestine D''Amares. Perhaps he had gone under knife to look like Allan. D''Amares had wanted to take his identity in France. The passport and international driving license belonged to him.

    But who was the corpse down there?

    I''ve killed O''Connell, he repeated again.

    I''ve killed O''Connell.

    He repeated it until it became ¨C I''ve killed O''Connell and now he''s D''Amares. I took D''Amares'' blood and drank it as elixir.

    He fell on his knees when he realized the dead man was no other than D''Amares himself. He had killed himself because he wanted O''Connell''s identity erased.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    He wondered why he had called him there and looked at his bed. In pile of papers he spotted a handwriting which matched with D''Amares'' note.

    ''Hello, we''re here. D''Amares is here. Arrest him¡­" there were other things written on it too which but he didn¡¯t bother reading any further. What he had read was enough and he knew whatever he was going to read next was going to be an extended type of first sentences with some more reasons added to it.

    Without a due he ran to his landline phone by reading the word Hello.

    Phone line claimed to be dead by D''Amares was working and it was TPD''s number dialed for the last time. He knew for sure whatever was written on the paper had already reached in cops'' ears and he couldn¡¯t guess how much time it had passed after the well pre ¨C written letter was read. He wants me arrested because I couldn¡¯t leave the country? I don¡¯t get it. In police custody, accused of murder, he had no risk of getting killed by Ait¨®untes.

    He heard his mother scream downstairs.

    She screamed for few seconds and stopped. But by this time he was struggling even to keep his eyes open. In next few steps he found he no more could stand and his body was forcing him to sleep.

    He heard heavy tramps approaching to his room. He couldn¡¯t clarify whether it was his weakness which was magnifying every detail or it was a big deal.

    A man came with a gun clutched in his hand without any hint. He was the reason why Lisey was yelling. He was in no state of observing the man''s face in detail but knew he was old judging by his wrinkles. He bellowed at him. "I''ve found you. Again."

    Then he started to beat weak O''Connell without any pity. He almost knocked him unconscious. All he was aware of was the old man tearing his clothes off until nothing was left on his body except bare skin.

    Then the person shot his mother downstairs. Later O''Connell fell into sound sleep.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.27)

    In the interrogation room Turner looked devastated and stunned from O''Connell''s confession of the event.

    "Has this got anything to do with you? Old man? O''Connell snapped, not even trying to remember his name which he had told earlier.

    "More than you can imagine. Do you know that two bodies were found from your house? One male and one female?"

    "I know it-"

    "But do you know, cops hadn¡¯t been telling you the whole truth just to check what you would to say. I think you''ve made them think unusually so they made me come here and have some talk with you." Turner fixed eyes at down to earth man, "Someone else had been found unconscious outside your house. He isn¡¯t suspected because he once was a homeless gypsy turned into an undertaker. He''s again a gypsy now. Seriously, how can anyone doubt a man who didn¡¯t have any idea where he was sleeping?"

    "Who are you talking about?"Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Turner took a long breath, "He''s me."

    "What the hell were you doing then? What made you think a chaotic house was best area to take nap at? Did you see attacker escape then? Gypsy¡­"

    "You want to know about the caller more than it, don¡¯t you?"

    O''Connell nod.

    "After hearing you, I have deduced who had called you and who was the person who attacked you and killed your mother last night."

    "What is this?" Keaton questioned himself after hearing O''Connell. The microphone hadn¡¯t been deactivated. Only one man belonging to TPD had heard the entire perspective of O''Connell and he was Keaton.

    Keaton remembered how Warner and rest of his unit hadn''t found any prosthetic mask or paper notes mentioned by O''Connell. How could they find them when Keaton had taken them and put it in a different briefcase?

    "He''s committed suicide¡­" O''Connell answer still echoed in his ears even though he had headphone on his ears.

    Turner¡­keep asking¡­.I also need to know who this woman is. I want to know who this woman is? I also want to know why she called him¡­

    Then Turner leaned forward to speak.

    "Come on¡­I want you to speak. Your mic is on too."

    Some stressful seconds later he had started to hear what Turner had to say.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.28)

    Turner admitted the dots from O''Connell''s perspective of event had taken a shape at last. The first fragment or the most important one had occurred twenty years ago when Turner was a skinny man with age favoring him. The thirty six years old individual enjoyed being a hippie since his childhood. It was the reason why he had left his house at Alabama an early age. Since the sane day he neither missed Alabama nor what he had left behind with hope that they weren¡¯t missing him either.

    But for some months he was unwell so he had decided not to travel more for some days. Soon he managed to get a source of income in a local cemetery in Portland. Months later, he was named Turner aka Undertaker. Working in there, alone for months, inside a hut had made him turn his mind against his restless nature. He dropped the idea of being a hippie again. For all of his life he had been travelling and now he understood where all journeys ended at. It was where he worked at.

    One night, Turner was busy in reading Reader''s Digest magazine when he heard some people scream after entering inside cemetery. He was used to of silence but the three guys came up to swearing and trash-talking.

    "You guys shut your fucking mouths or I''ll impale them for you."

    Turner went out of his bed with old double nozzle gun, "Move your asses outta here right now."

    Those three men were now staring at him. An Afro ¨C American came close to his face which made him scared. The negro said like he was commanding, "Listen, dork¡­nobody tells us what to do. And not a grave digger like you. You shut up!"

    "W- wh ¨C what do ¨C y ¨C you want? Turner stuttered.

    Turner had the gun and he wasn''t meant to be scared but he couldn¡¯t control his fear. But he couldn¡¯t afford showing it because it could make them to seize the gun.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    "No. The questions becomes, what do you want?"

    "Huh? Why would I want anything ¨C?"

    "For a job you do every day."

    "You want me to bury a coffin or what?" Turner guessed when he squinted at a coffin on which two guys were sitting.

    "This proves you ain''t so dumb." The person said and pulled out two notes from his shirt pocket and soon the dollars were on the hands of Turner.

    It was two hundred dollars. Most of all, it was too much for a coffin to be buried. He could bury dozens of it by the amount he had received.

    "You must be wondering why I am paying you this much. Twenty is for the labor you''re gonna do and rest is for keeping your damn mouth shut."

    "I can keep my mouth sewed for two months with these." Turner grinned.

    The Afro ¨C American guy checked the coffin and said to Turner, "I want this buried right now."

    "It will be sooner than you can expect. Yesterday I had dug a pit which is unused till now. People don¡¯t die very much these days."

    They looked at the pit which Turner was talking about and without even uttering a word, shared glances and left from the gate.

    Turner stuffed money in his jacket pocket and then he began to wonder how he was going to drag coffin to the pit. Other days, other times, there would have been bunch of people for the same work. He wished there were wheels on coffin''s base and then started to push the coffin with all his strength.

    Holy Mary, I forgot the shovel. How am I supposed to undo the pit? Then he looked at the coffin''s edge. The coffin was locked as expected. He went inside his house and when he returned back with a heavy shovel accompanying him. He heard sound of something being pounded somewhere.

    He deduced it to be his heartbeat or the zeal he was having but heartbeats never had come from coffins. In return, confused, he knocked on the coffin''s roof.

    In return the sound of hitting of padded wall came.

    Is someone alive here? He questioned and looked at the lock

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.29)

    Is someone alive here? He questioned and looked at the lock. Then without any further hesitation he swung his shovel''s handle and hit on the lock. It took further three blows to break it.

    He had presumed he would have to open the lid but instead the lid swung open itself from inside. It hit his chin and he fell off his feet. What Turner saw next was the main reason why he had opted to live a normal life again.

    What Turner knew as Satan emerged from coffin.

    The fallen Archangel from heaven has come. Oh God Almighty!

    The Lucifer was almost five feet tall and possessed face which he never wanted to see in his life. He had chosen to work as a gravedigger because it was the place where Satan would never step in with intent. Instead of scaring him The Satans would look through the bars of gate with animalistic eyes at terrified Turner.

    He always had hesitated to bury a dead Satan but tonight he had been told to bury one of them and he was alive. The Satan looked pale and thirsty. It stepped out from the coffin.

    Satans are afraid of cemeteries. Satans fear who is dead. They have no idea what death is for they have never died. The bastards are curious, small and attractive for some beholders. They are attracted to Satans like them and of course¡­toys¡­This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A kid had popped out from there but he was Satan for Turner since he had turned adult. Before abandoning his house, he had burnt all of his childhood photographs even though there were not more than half a dozen of them.

    I was a Satan too¡­but now I''m transformed. The kid reminded of his past acting as an emotional trigger.

    But for tonight, Turner was going to turn evil. The strange mental disorder where he suffered was called Pedophobia. The peculiar mental illness linked children with any source of fear. And for Turner, the source of fear was twined with Satan.

    Children never had come to cemeteries. But now he had come somehow. He covered his eyes in fear and wished the Satan would go but Satan chose to run inside Turner''s house. In some winks, the kid who looked of nine or ten was already inside.

    Turner then possessed no sense of what was to be done. He was in dilemma of whether he should run for his peace or fight the creature. In nausea, he seized the shovel.

    He resisted on the shovel''s handle and got on his feet. He was about to leave the place when he had intuition that God was signaling him for something. The shovel which he had just used as a walking stick could be used for something different. God had given him support to get on his feet and face his utmost fear. He knew, once he ran from there then he would encounter many of such creatures in future. Turner opted to fight against his fear than to run away from it.

    If I kill it then I shall never be scared of it again.

    He reminded himself about it without any pause until he entered inside his house with shovel on his shoulder like a mallet. Sweat was loosening his grip and was increasing his anxiety.

    He heard light tramps of the creature walking towards his direction.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.30)

    Child was coming from other end of the passage and Turner was on the place where the child was bound to come anyways. He started recalling gospels and prayers with his eyes shut.

    He calculated sound of steps. In five steps he will be here.

    He was right. Listening to fifth step, he swung his shovel with extreme velocity. Then he heard the metallic flat end of shovel strike on boy''s head.

    The boy bled from his temple and did not stir.

    "I did it! I did it!" the pedophobic grinned after initiating to revel in pleasure of his triumph.

    He no more was afraid to see the creature''s body.

    Turner laughed loud like he was out of touch with reality. He found himself dancing because of his achievement but still the incomplete task was on his mind. Something was yet to be done and it was reminded to him by dollars sound of crushed dollars inside his pocket while dancing.

    He did something which he had not even imagined he could do. He hoisted the bloodied creature on his shoulder and walked out of the house with shovel in his hand.

    He found his clothes wet due to warm blood and then slammed the body on ground. His eyes fell on the coffin. If he hadn¡¯t unlocked it then he never would have overcome his fear. He pulled the corpse to put back in coffin but dropped the idea along with body.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    He chose the simple way of burial. He was in no intention of making burial task further tough. He threw the body inside pit and started to put mud in it until the boy had become part of ground.

    With the last shovelful of mud thrown on the pit, he dropped the shovel and sat on the grave with relief. He started to release out his stress and fatigue by looking at the clouded moon instead of going back to his house.

    He did not know he was going to suffer a lot because he had chosen to stay outside his house by praying hints given to him by God.

    Turner looked at the gate and his nightmare began. A woman was standing outside the gate and was looking at him as well as at the grave. She looked like a familiar face even though he never had seen her before in his entire life.

    She wasn¡¯t tall - height was about two inches from five feet. The facial structure was round along with a little bit of crooked nose. Turner got up as he observed the woman''s face which looked like a famous piece of art blended with another artistic masterpiece.

    The Mona Lisa and Mary from Madonna of the Rocks.

    From his early days he had seen those paintings and now he had also seen how it would look like if someone had combination of both of those facial features. Despite of having no expression on his face she spoke, "I saw it."

    She turned around and ran in darkness.

    "Hey wait! Wait!" Turner screamed as soon as he started to run after her. He knew she had witnessed what had taken place there; he couldn¡¯t let her go because she could report it to the cops.

    Turner believed he was a great runner until that event. He couldn¡¯t catch her but he still had hoped he could anytime from now. The more close he reached, the farther she ran. For a second he thought he had clutched her green robe but he had caught thin air.

    "Stop! I told you to stop!" he gasped but she did not stop.

    Turner had not realized but now he was in a public place with bunch of houses. It was the time when he found she was almost out of his sight. He could not believe a woman had freaked him out for the first time ever.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.31)

    The next day was quiet busy day for him but even the occupied mind couldn¡¯t get over from her thoughts and what he had gone through with her. The whole day he was in fear about police. He thought cops will come and cuff his hands together but just as any other day but corpses were things which came in.

    Turner had just taken final sip of coffee in evening when he got to know about three coffins arrival. This time also he had four empty graves which he had been digging for the whole day.

    Almost thirty people had come with coffins along with Fathers and other church members. Since his early days in the work he had developed a habit of looking at the faces of each people who came in funeral. This evening also he continued his self made tradition.

    In the crowd of unknown faces he saw a familiar face looking at him from his right side two meters away. He felt like he had been struck by a lorry when saw she was the same woman who had witnessed the kid''s murder last night. Not only it, he also had attempted to seize her.

    He tried to overlook it and went towards the graves. He squinted at the medieval looking face and at a bunch of red roses she was holding. She was speaking to nobody and it looked as if nobody wanted to start conversation with her at the time of mourning. Turner couldn¡¯t take his eyes off her but he did it when he was told to give hand in burying coffins.

    The lids of coffins were open and he was told it was time to shut them. Little steps by little, he went towards first coffin in the row of three and saw a young looking Afro ¨C American inside it.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Turner''s jaw dropped. He was the same man who had made him bury the child and had given him money. He hadn¡¯t even spent the money yet. Moving his eyes at the rest two coffins, he discovered other two men who were in company of black guy last night.

    While closing coffins Turner heard people talk, "Isn''t it a coincidence of all three dying due to heart attack same night?"

    "Scary¡­it''s like an evil force doing it. Dark Arts¡­I guess." Some other added and he looked at the mysterious woman who could run like wind could blow.

    An hour later the burial was concluded and people had started to leave. When there were about seven men in cemetery, he saw the creepy woman still with rose flowers clutched in her hands. She took her time to divide roses in three and put it on each of those graves

    She then moved few feet away while Turner was watching her like she was about to kill him. Little by little, she moved at the place where Turner had buried the kid. He did not see what she put on the grave but was delighted to see her leaving.

    She opened her umbrella and went outside without looking back at him. He was confused after it. He ran towards kid''s grave and discovered an envelope on which a rose was lying.

    He tore the envelope open and took out the paper. People often gave letters as burial so it was nothing strange for him.

    He then began to read the paper''s writing:

    The justice has been done. Sinners are punished with deaths. I''ve opted to spare the pawn''s life this time¡­.

    Last night. His resurrection took place. He has resurrected.

    And the boy''s wish shall be fulfilled some day...I vow.

    -Alundra Payne

    He could understand she was the one who had killed three of them but due to some reason she had left his life. But he had no clue of whose resurrection was she talking about. She even had left her name on the letter.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.32)

    For the next few hours he began to wonder, with rose in his hand, whose resurrection meant in the letter along with the reason which had avoided him from being part of soil.

    Resurrection¡­he had read The Bible multiple times in his life. It was the only book which he was interested in besides Reader''s Digest and Rolling Stone. He squinted at the shovel he had used last night. At 11:00 PM, he took the same shovel with him and started to dig the kid''s grave.

    Resurrection¡­resurrection¡­

    He kept digging for an hour but he couldn¡¯t find the kid''s corpse. Turner''s mouth dried. He knew nobody had come to dig out the child and there was no way to pull someone out off grave with everything untouched on surface. He now knew what she was trying to say.

    He has resurrected. I had killed God but now he has come back to life.

    Next morning, he contacted cemetery authorities and quit the job to become a hippie again. He knew he wasn¡¯t going to hard time on being a hippie again since he no more feared children. But still he didn''t adore them¡­

    Twenty long years had passed when Turner had got rid of Pedophobia and was satisfied as traveler. Leaving the job of gravedigger had given him a lot of mental peace and he no longer was thinking about the mysterious woman and the boy who had resurrected.

    His fate had taken him to Tacoma and he was staying in parks for few days. Staying in the busy city hadn¡¯t been a bad idea for him after all until history repeated itself.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    The same night he had seen himself on mirror and was disappointed to see how bad he had aged. He was turning bald and hairs left on his head were white and soft as cotton. He could even plough them at once if he wanted. It was last week when he had lost his front tooth and previous day he had said farewell to his lower left canine. His skin had also tanned in all those years and looked like any other homeless man.

    He used to think time passes in equal way for everybody until an even happened to him while wandering in the street by observing city lights.

    He saw someone whom he had seen twenty years ago ¨C Payne.

    "Lord!" he spoke when he saw the mysterious woman exactly like he had seen two decades ago. She was as young as she had been when she had been sighted.

    She looked as if time and age had no effect on her. She glanced at Turner for a couple of seconds. He hadn¡¯t forgotten the glance but this time he was scared more than ever. He was curious and the long lasting youth couldn¡¯t resist him from following her to wherever she was heading for.

    Again she was running and, as he had imagined earlier, he could not catch up with her. Unlike the last time she did not run like wind but still she was far faster than Turner could think of.

    Running behind Payne for ten minutes took him near a house. He sniffed and collected his breath while he saw her get inside there.

    "I''ll get you." he boosted himself up and ran inside the house without thinking what he could encounter inside.

    The moment he stepped inside the house he heard a feminine yell ¨C the elderly scream. He looked around but couldn¡¯t see who the one who had made such noise was. Even though the room was illuminated like daylight he couldn¡¯t spot Payne anywhere.

    He locked the door by thinking he would not let her escape this time. He was aware she could run like wind but she had no chance to run if she was locked in within the walls. No matter where she would run, she still would be in the house. Even if she kills me I ain''t leaving this place without finding what she is-

    He heard tramps on stairs.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.33)

    He heard tramps on stairs. Turner rolled his eyes up and then climbed up the wooden stairs which took him to a passageway. In the end of small passage was an open door.

    She must be in there. Turner then entered inside the room. History repeats itself. A kid was near the bed on his knees and was bleeding. The busted open kid of nine or ten looked like he was going to get unconscious due to something. More than it, he also was the kid whom he had buried twenty years ago but this time he had no wound on his head he had caused. The child''s body was covered in blood like he had had a bloodbath.

    The child tried to run but Turner grasped him and then began to strip his shirt to check how deep the impairments were. When he stripped his shirt then he found brutal stripes like deep cuts on his back from back of neck to down bleeding like a river.

    The boy looked like he was going to die anytime. Stripping him to nude to bare skin exposed his bleeding buttocks and upper thighs. Jesus was also flogged.

    "Lord! Wake up Lord!" Turner started to slap him for consciousness but he was just groaning and moaning as a response.

    "I can''t leave you here like this Jesus. I''ll take you to infirmity." He told the injured boy. He attempted to carry God on his shoulder but he wasn¡¯t young enough for the physical task. Without willingness, he had to drag Jesus from the stairs by hoping he would not be harmed by the point they would have reached down.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    When he reached down with young Jesus then he found Payne''s presence there. He backed up and looked around. He saw a gun nearby and pointed at here, "You? What are you?"

    She said nothing but gave wicked smirk by contracting her crooked nose. Even she could see she had no reason to fear Turner for he seemed petrified

    He then realized Jesus was on his knees somehow.

    "Curse is getting over. The curse of free mind." she spoke.

    Turner looked down at him and said, "At last, the day has arrived. I shall fix my sin of what I had put you through." He saw terror in Jesus'' bloodshot eyes.

    Then Turner pulled the trigger of Colt with his eyes closed. The bullet rocketed towards her abdomen and pierced it by spilling blood all around. She fell like a chopped tree on the floor. He opened his eyes and ran towards Payne''s body but whom he saw dead there wasn¡¯t Payne.

    She was an old balding woman who had just been shot on forehead by him.

    "Jesus, she''s not a human. She''s Satan." he told himself and dropped the gun. He no longer cared of Jesus. He ran to save his own life. Turner got out from the house''s window towards the garden. He was about to cross the fence which was about four feet tall when he tripped and fell. His head banged on the ground and blackness surrounded him.

    When he woke up then he found himself in TPD Headquarters.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.34)

    "Yes O''Connell. I am the man who was found near your house last night. Aye Allan, I''m telling what''s true." Turner spoke to O''Connell from his chair in trembling tone.

    "You''re trying to say you were the person who killed my mother last night? You were the one who almost choked the life out of me and ¨C and ¨C you saw me as a child? Child?" O''Connell wanted to get up from his chair but he could not so he started pulling the cuffs in hope of uprooting the planted chair.

    "Saw you as Jesus. Yes, you''re the same child whom I had tried to kill back then but failed for yours as well as mine own good." Turner said with scared expression, "I won''t lie ¨C"

    "I am not Jesus and you fucking killed my ¨C"

    "I didn¡¯t mean to shoot your mother. I had shot Payne, not her! And you wanted to know what was making you target of Ait¨®untes since last evening? Because ¨C"

    "Because I''m Jesus? I can''t be." He shrugged, sniffed and looked around. Then he returned to Turner, "Either you''re insane of I am because I don¡¯t know what happened to me as a child!" he snapped and stopped with a thought in his head in a second.

    The thought was why he didn¡¯t have any childhood memory. Listening to Turner had convinced him to think that perhaps Turner''s blow was the only thing which had done massive memory damage. Doctors also had speculated the main and memory loss could have been result of a collision.

    O''Connell recalled she used to tell him, "When you were about to turn ten, you disappeared somewhere for a week." She had told him he maybe was picked up from school by some goons to get enough money for doping. But she never had mentioned he had a head injury when he had returned back. She would have told him about the wound if he had returned home with it. As far as he knew, he never even had a single scar on his head but Turner was claiming he had died due to his swing.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    There was a reason why she had never mentioned about his broken head. It was because when O''Connell had returned back, he did not have any. They were healed¡­

    As if healed by a healer.

    Hand¡­Touch¡­Light¡­Face¡­.Suffocation¡­

    "Oh Lord! The vision wasn¡¯t just my imagination. It had taken place for real. IT WAS REAL!"

    "Yes it was." Turner licked his dried lips, "You''re Jesus sp the society was saving you. You know what, thou have resurrected and your resurrection was made possible my Payne. She filled life back in you and pulled you out of the pit."

    "If I''m Jesus and if I am reincarnated then who can the woman be? What she can be? I don¡¯t even think it is her real name after all." he looked at Turner, "She''s Mother Mary?"

    Turner took a long breath but didn¡¯t stand up and gazed at O''Connell''s pale face.

    "I know what is inside your mind, Allan. You are thinking what if you''re Lazarus and she is Jesus after witnessing revival. But believe He wasn¡¯t a female and even if he somehow had returned back in a female body then I would have seen her whipped back ¨C which I never saw. Believe in me, if she meant she was Jesus then she would have let me known about it."

    But still O''Connell didn¡¯t ask any question and kept it to himself.

    "What are you wondering about now? You''ve got to know everything you needed to know. Ait¨®untes, Payne, your memory and D''Amares¡­"

    "I am wondering ¨C"

    "Makes me wonder you are thinking of why no mask was discovered from your house. And I''m thinking why I kept that rose for two decades."

    "The rose." He giggled with a shrug, "What did you do with the rose, which dries in a single day, for whole twenty years?" O''Connell didn¡¯t know but he had a strange smile on his face.

    "The rose never dried, boy. It was with me until last night but it isn¡¯t with me any longer. I guess nobody is going to question about finding a rose inside a house while they have corpses everywhere."

    "But where did D''Amares'' mask go? Holy hell, now I officially am a vicious criminal who may be sentenced of life imprisonment. I''m just supposed to keep breathing behind the walls in terms of living."

    "I''ve got no idea where did the mask go. It was the only one thing which could make things easy for you and complicate even worse for them. But I also hadn¡¯t seen any mask. Maybe I forgot to notice it when I saw an agonized child with whipped back about to take his final breath."

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.35)

    As O''Connell had been doing since waking up, he kept staring at the table for a long time. And this time Turner didn¡¯t interrupt him.

    "What now? What''s going inside your mind? Does the thought of spending rest of your life inside the walls scare you?"

    "It would be foolish of me not to get scared. But I want to know why she resurfaced and lead you to my house? Why did she make you kill my mother?" O''Connell narrowed his eyebrows.

    "I''m afraid but I have nothing to answer you for this. But the letter which I had found on your grave said she was going to grant you a wish which you had made to her. Maybe it''s the reason why she resurfaced."

    "I remember nothing more than being pulled out. How can I remember any wish I had made to her? Anyways, why would I wish for all this chaos? I would have wished for my home instead of this." O''Connell said. Later he realized he had his entire life to keep trying to recall his wish.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Was this my wish? Or this is just another stage to it?

    Keaton was alone in the control room. Hence he was the most trusted interrogator; he was left alone in the room. He pressed STOP button of the tape recorder on which he had been recording what they had said.

    "If I tell others he''s not D''Amares then everything will get complicated. Laws are for humans, not for spirits and Gods. FBI wants D''Amares and due to D''Amares'' past no trial for his defense is going to be held. Jury shall be held only to stamp convictions on him for determining legal punishment." he spoke at the sound proof glass.

    He then went towards a briefcase which just he knew existed. Inside it was a prosthetic mask used by Raymond. When he removed the mask then he saw a rose beneath it.

    "The mask doesn¡¯t exist now. If I show this mask to FBI then I will be responsible for Jesus'' second death." he told the mask by looking through the hollow eyes of mask at the rose.

    If Keaton hadn¡¯t heard the story then he would never have imagined how old the rose was.

 Eureka Feminine (Ch.36)

    Washington State Penitentiary,

    The prison which was established in 1886 had capacity of holding up to 2200 prisoners and was often called Walla Walla State Penitentiary. The person located in Walla Walla is the second largest prison in Washington State after Coyote Ridge Corrections Center.

    It is the site of Washington State''s death row where executions are carried out by either lethal injection or by hanging. Even though the prison was surrounded by wheat fields, barely anybody took a closer look at them. Nobody would want to look at the wheat field when they are waiting inside their cells after hearing death sentences for fast track judiciary.

    WSP is located in 1313 N 13<sup>th</sup> Avenue, which is known as The Walls among inmates. The man who was C¨¦lestine D''Amares had got to know it after spending nine months solitary inside a cell after being sentenced death for multiple murders, homicides and drug trafficking.

    Raymond''s strategy to act as elixir had backfired and O''Connell had to intake the venom as a result. Jesus died at Golgotha Hill. They say I had died there. But he couldn¡¯t take a fact as coincidence that the particular avenue was called The Hill by the locals while inmates had no leisure time by calling it The Walls.

    Again the infamous hill has called me.

    In his time he got to know, notorious Terapon ''Lee'' Adhahn ¨C convicted of child rapes, once lived in the same cell before he was executed. The prison had some notable names studded on their Executed list like Colton Harris ¨C Moore, Kenneth Bianchi, Kevil Coe, Jack Owen Spillman and some more.

    O''Connell had heard the court these days avoided long delays for execution for the sake of mercy to inmates. He never could find what mercy was in executing very soon after being sentenced to die. Maybe it was for reduction of depression and suicidal chances among the prisoners. He could not believe how much the number of inmates had decreased since his arrival. Four convicted men had come there along with him at the same day. A week ago those two had gone for long walk within the penitentiary and had never returned since then.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    "Executions happen here within eleven months after death sentence. Washington State has passed this formulation. Long gone are the days when inmates stayed in their cells waiting to be hung for years and years." he had said a cleaner tell him through the small glass panel on his door while delivering bread with cops. It was January already and he guessed, what he had calculated, February could be his last month.

    And prison had turned him to believe in the fact in basis of what he was witnessing.

    More than counting the remaining days of his life he used to wonder what wish he had made to Payne which had made her resurface and call him after twenty long years.

    In late January, O''Connell felt overwhelming anxiety and nausea grow within him. It was the most difficult day for him to pass as every minute seemed to be long like an hour.

    "I survived Ait¨®untes but the law is going to kill me. Ait¨®untes has succeeded anyways. They don¡¯t care who kills me. They just want me dead." O''Connell spoke to his pillow which he never had dared to tear like his bed ¨C sheets.

    With sudden chill running up to his head from spine, he felt like he wasn¡¯t in prison walls anymore. For short time he feels like he again has been pulled out from the prison. But it felt like he was pulled out of the mortal universe to a divine land.

    He sees stars in the night sky and feels fresh air fragrance hit his face. He discovers himself young again, muddy and realizes Payne had just finished healing his wounded head.

    She sat beside him with his shoulder touching her arms and it seemed as if she wanted to stay like it too. She squints at her left to have a look at him, "You can ask for it Allan. I will not deny it."

    He could not believe what she was saying. It was something he had wanted to hear ever since he had been pulled out. And she had said she was not going to deny.

    "Do you want me to fulfill any wish for you?" she asks.

    "I just escaped death by your help," the child says, "Please let me know when I will die and I need your help in finding out when I shall die. And help me die an easier death. The bad man had hurt me like hell."

    He kept saying many things for a long time but among all of the wishes, he never mentioned life anywhere. But now O''Connell realized he had many wishes to choose from. He could have said Ice cream or cotton candy instead of having an easier death with her help.

    She never had heard a child wish as bizarre as O''Connell''s because she never had asked any toddler for anything. Then she smiles with wide lips, contracting cheeks and eventually enlarging parrot like nose by trying to guess the boy''s fate.

    *****************************

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.1)

    I had once attended Elaine''s and Stanley Peplinski''s wedding and also had attended their funeral about a week ago. The young husband and wife had been murdered and the convicted one was serving inside prison. Stanley''s corpse was found in a hotel of Wollochet while Elaine was found shot in their own house.

    But a link was missing. Or maybe dead.

    I had attended many funerals in past forty years but never had felt so awful ever since my wife''s death. More than my wife''s death''s grief, I have a regret which still exists inside my mind. I wasn¡¯t in USA when my wife had died. Instead I was in war by shooting people in Cuba. While our troops, including myself, had been celebrating their triumph in camp, my wife had been taking her last breaths. While I had been listening to victory songs and news on radio, my wife had been listening death whisper inside her ears.

    Now I don''t know what death had whispered in her ears. She had died while nobody was expecting her to die. She had died without any disease.

    The news of Stacy''s death had shattered me into pieces like a clay pot. The thought still holds strength to rattle my old bones. It hurts me more than arthritis. And nobody''s company is enough for an old man whose wife had died forty years ago. Yet here I am alive, with my second wife dead too and a grown up offspring named Joey.

    "Do you fear you will have to leave everything behind? This thought has given me sleepless nights and stressful days." Hansen had asked me. Everything Hansen had said wasn¡¯t hard to remember, after all.

    "I don¡¯t fear death anymore." I had said to Benjamin Hansen more than anyone else. Well, Hansen was a man rude, or open enough, to ask an old man about his death.

    "An old man fears death more than anything. In his old days, he becomes religious," Hansen had said on same balcony, "and he rarely believes anything which hasn¡¯t got a word God in it. The old man remembers his past days, his crimes, works of his in adulthood and his sins. The old man fears he cannot remember what good he has done for he has got a weak memory. Good things can be forgotten easier than the bad ones. He then begins to fear if his sins have outnumbered good deeds."The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    "So, you are saying, I may not fear death but it is hell what I fear?" I had asked him.

    "You fear what I said. You are frightened of your sins. Those will lead you to inferno."

    "Since when calling a neighbor for a drink become a sin?" I gulped my wine.

    "Sins are those which the old man has said to me. Things you''ve admitted to have done."

    "Wars? I''ve been in wars for many times. I''ve walked out of every bloody war I''ve got in ¨C"

    "You walked out with bloodied hands and clothes drenched in blood of adversaries with victory."

    "Even history books say, even God will admit we were right in there. Adversaries were the one who wanted our heads. We chopped theirs for keeping ours on our shoulders." I paused and darted him a question, "Have you ever killed a man before, Hansen?"

    "Of course not. It would make me a murderer ¨C"

    "But doing the same thing on battlefield has makes me a warrior. This world is a shit of a place where everyone who enters inside a battlefield thinks he''s a knight or a soldier. They rarely seem to accept, those who go in war aren''t warriors but those who walk out of it are." I found my voice rise.

    Hansen had smirked as he always liked to debate with old man. He enjoyed my words more than the wine I offered. I also seemed to like Hansen listen to me and it also had made me question him at some point.

    "You think I will have to pay to Lord for killing someone?" I asked all of a sudden.

    Hansen paused for a while, "Circumstances have given you a point. But.."

    "But what?"

    "But if you step on fire, even by mistake or you are made to do it, then it''ll hurt you. Fire would not spare you of burns because you were meant to do it or it was just an accident."

    "This isn¡¯t a thing a man of my age wants to listen in his final years." I was more of upset by then and didn¡¯t want the conversation to go any further. What the hell was he talking anyways? And why?

    "You just said you don¡¯t fear death, didn¡¯t you?"

    And what can be better way to end everything than humor? To end awkwardness one should also find humor where humor can never be in millions of years. I had broken into laughter and soon began to talk on casual things.

    I didn¡¯t remember the conversation which we had three years ago until Hansen had been gulped by air.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.2)

    Now I have no ear to listen to what I wanted to say. My son had gone to visit some place that I didn¡¯t even know name of. And he ain''t coming back from now. Joey had called me two days ago and had said he has abandoned me. He didn¡¯t give any reasons for doing so. I think I never had given him any reason for doing so. Haaa¡­I think I can live without him. I will also live without my grandson. Joey must have abandoned me because of his bitch wife. Damn slut! How could Joey marry her?

    There is no point in lamentation, or is there? I hope¡­

    I recalled the time of wars. I remembered how I felt when I had walked in and walked out of first war I had ever been in.

    But in second day of being left alone, I figured out surviving alone looked, now, more difficult than to survive in the war. In wars you have weapons to defend yourself. In life your body is your shield. And I am no more a healthy person but a fragile arthritic senior citizen.

    I didn¡¯t watch TV for the evening. I had some old magazines and newspapers which I had collected during my time in army. I flipped those pages one by one, checked each photo and tried to remember each of the faces on it.

    Half of them had died in war and the rest were nowhere to be found. I slammed the pile of magazines and turned pages so that I would not get bored. I didn¡¯t know when I had finished two of them. And I also didn''t get to know when I had gulped last sip of my wine in glass.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    I saw some kids down in the street. I watched them play and leave. The one particular toddler looked no older than ten and behaved in the same way. I got off my chair and walked towards barricade of the balcony. I put his hand on cold bar, wrapped it by my wrinkled palm and felt odd. I looked down. There is solution to every problem, isn¡¯t it?

    I can end my sufferings here. I look down and can''t get thought of jumping from there off my mind. I am a frail old man. I would die the moment I hit the ground.

    I wonder if I should jump or not for next five minutes.

    Some other day. I told myself. Being left alone wasn¡¯t the reason I am meant to die for. I have survived wars and even a bullet. I should not meet such fate just because of the people who have left me.

    I look back and think forward for another day when arthritis wouldn¡¯t hurt this much. I take few steps to get inside my room.

    "Hey! You can''t leave! You cannot." I hear a toddler ride on his bicycle. For a moment I had thought the kid was telling me.

    The child pedaled his bicycle as much as he could and past my house.

    "Wait! You cannot go." Toddler screamed again and went out of my weak sight.

    I waited there for another hour. Many kids returned pedaling but the one whom I was curious about didn¡¯t return.

    I have poor eyesight. I told myself and left the balcony.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.3)

    The thing which felt relaxing first day turned into miserable in another day. I had got bored of watching TV and looking at dead faces.

    The depressing day went by and came another evening. With evening I also came in balcony with my non ¨C living or already deceased companions. I read my friends'' articles and laughed at them. I had found my name mentioned in their columns for several times. Hell, I even found my own article there.

    I HAD SNAKES CRAWLING OVER ME WHEN I HAD COME OUT FROM BUNKER. ¨C Rick Tarot

    I don''t even remember writing it at all. Snakes aren''t creature worth to be remembered.

    I SHOT TEN MEN IN THE WAR, came second article. It also was mine.

    CAUGHT SPY AGAIN. THIS TIME RICK TAROT FINDS HIM.

    I smiled because I remembered it crystal clear. Damn, how many articles had I written here?

    SUICIDE BOMBER SHOT TO DEATH BY TAROT.

    CAMP FOUR EXPLODES FOES BUNKERS.

    WE FOUGHT WITHOUT BULLETS BUT WITH DAGGERS.

    THREE SURVIVED OUT OF THIRTY. I was one of them. But I wasn¡¯t mentioned in the whole article.

    I turned pages with my heart filled with anxiousness. All I found there was about me and my colleague troops killing people. No article was mentioned about saving anyone.

    Perhaps Hansen was right.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    "He then begins to think if his sins have outnumbered good deeds."

    I was already done. I shut the magazine with idea of never opening it again. I was fed up from faces I didn¡¯t even know were alive or not.

    In evening, I felt more anxious than before and gathered guts to jump from balcony and end it all there. I couldn¡¯t overlook and resist suicidal thoughts all the time. Some day it was bound to get under my skin.

    The day had turned out to be the one day.

    Again some kids came on their bicycles faster than ever. I didn¡¯t want to commit suicide in front of kids. This time they didn¡¯t play and kept on pedaling.

    I was very close to jump ¨C

    "I didn¡¯t even break my bone by slipping from the tree of Markeenz Lake. I had thought I will die." The kid screamed at his friends from behind. The kids ahead of him kept on smiling and didn¡¯t show any interest on what a smaller toddler pedaling like a tortoise had to say. All of them were busy in rushing for Markeenz Lake ¨C which was often called Markings by the children because both things pronounced almost the same for them.

    "I will not dive from there. I will not let anyone of you do so either." He screamed at last when he was directly infront of my house.

    "Is he speaking only to his friends or me too?" I was compelled to think. For some reason I couldn¡¯t let myself fall from the balcony.

    I made my mind; I would not jump from there until he comes again.

    Two hours later the group of kids came with clothes stained with mud. One had his cycle''s tire punctured and another had lost his shirt somehow.

    But the child didn¡¯t come this time either.

    I vowed I would talk to the kid after I see him next time.

    Kid had stopped me multiple times from jumping from my beloved balcony.

    The third day I saw no signs of him. Not even a single child came on bicycle. Even though I had suicide in his mind for all the day, I didn¡¯t jump from anywhere. Perhaps I was thinking was death from fall was easier way to lose life. I had image of egg break after hitting the ground. I am not an egg but I am damn sure I will burst like it if I fall from there. I thought I would find him the next day if not today.

    I could it at least for the child who had added three days in my life.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.4)

    The fourth day, I was no more in balcony. I had packed old magazines, left my wine in fridge and was on lawn. I unlocked the small gate made of thin iron rods and had stepped out from there.

    The group of kids came on bicycle like a group of flamingos. This time they had come in V shape just like birds with a fat kid on lead.

    "Markeenz is ours!" The fat boy roared and others cheered.

    Whole world is yours when you''re a child. I wanted to say but they went like wind and disappeared as fast as they had come. From down, having clear look at those children looked tough.

    But as always, the kid came in last.

    "Hey! Hey! Stop there kid." I shouted at him but the boy didn¡¯t seem to listen at all. Instead the boy was shouting to his group who had always left him behind, "Don¡¯t go anywhere. Don¡¯t go."

    There was no chance for me to stop him. I hadn¡¯t even been able to make him listen.

    His words echoed inside my ears, Don¡¯t go anywhere.

    Was he telling me not to kill myself? I kept questioning myself for the whole night. If I wanted to meet him then I couldn¡¯t do it how I was doing. I needed to do something else. I needed to stop those children who had always left him behind and ask who the one who always came in last was.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    To my misfortune, no kid came pedaling the next day. Gave me frustration I could hold no more. I screamed at street and stomped on road even though it hurt my knees and ankles.

    I was thinking of going up on balcony and come down dead.

    "Markeenz is mine. Yo Ho!" the sole kid came screaming in empty street.

    "Wait! Hey boy! Wait!" I went in street but he didn¡¯t stop smirking and drove from my side, "Don¡¯t stop me please. Markeenz is mine. HAHA!"

    He then disappeared like wind again. I guess this time he was even faster than the last time.

    But I thought I had heard enough. And the boy had said as much as he needed to say. If I wanted to meet him then I was the one who needed to go at Markeenz.

    I knew why kids loved to swim in there. The lake wasn¡¯t deep and wasn¡¯t furious. Most of all, it wasn¡¯t of a big area at all. The depth was sometimes deceiving because the whole river was inside a crater. We had sometimes joked - Anderson Island was nothing less than Area 51. Children loved to claim a meteor had hit there who had made the crater. Well, it is children''s talk and let it be how it is¡­

    I knew where the boys had loved to swim. There was a tree on the bank and the place wasn¡¯t very deep like other portion of the lake. No question in why newbies favored the place. This was the lake where many children of Anderson Island had learned to swim. Now on the way to there, I was going to learn how to walk despite of arthritis.

    I took walking stick out of my house, locked the door and walked on.

    I needed to walk fast because the child had never returned from the same way. What was I going to ask to him when I would have reached to Markeenz? I didn¡¯t know. Why? I didn¡¯t know. But it didn¡¯t bother me at all.

    At least I had something to live for.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.5)

    Was I going to thank him? Perhaps yes. But for what was I going to thank him? A child is clever enough to trick his buddies but not wise enough to understand deep things of an old man.

    He had stopped me from committing suicide for many days. Even I didn¡¯t know why I was taking a child''s random sentences with such seriousness. I have no idea why I was taking words from a toddler as divine intervention.

    I gasped because my knees felt like they were being pulled out off my legs but I didn¡¯t stop. I forced myself to walk by the help of my walking stick for more ten minutes. People who had seen me would have found peculiar to see a man walk with stick like crutches.

    With each steps I could hear sound of water reach my ears. I am glad I haven¡¯t lost sense of hearing. Few steps later I heard the boy''s laughter mixed with lake''s sound.

    Being an old man full of zeal didn¡¯t notice my stick fall from grip of mine. Most of all, I didn¡¯t notice I was walking for a long time without stick.

    I stopped and looked back with my beloved stick nowhere to be found. I felt emptiness within me as well as in my hand. It took me realize how legs felt without any pain.

    Oh! The kid took my pain. I smiled, stomped with joy and sang whatever came in his mind. I literally didn¡¯t know how to react.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Then I started to do something I hadn¡¯t done for over ten years. I began to run like a child.

    "Thank you, Lord. How can I pay for your gratitude?" I knelt as tears of joy rolled on down from cheeks.

    I saw the bicycle after a while. If it wasn¡¯t for the child then I would have been inside ground. Now I was on it with joy all over my face.

    "My Lord. Please show up again." I yelled in laughter as I began to climb the crater''s wall.

    "Lord. You saved my life and granted my happiness." I burst into tears when I climbed down to reach bank, "I didn¡¯t know who you were."

    I climbed down like I was still in army and began to search of the boy. But I couldn¡¯t see him anywhere. Still I could hear his laughter.

    I realized the laughter was coming from behind a tree. The gigantic tree trunk was touching the water and it was enormous enough to hide a grown up behind it.

    In a sudden laughter stopped and came a yell. The joyful laugh behind the trunk turned into scream until it stopped for good.

    "My Lord!" I walked in the river, almost slipping on sand-bars underneath in every step.

    "MY LORD!" I roared when I saw dark red blood floating towards me in shallow water.

    The blood came slow, touched my feet and went around my legs. Less than an hour ago the boy had gone around me but now it was his blood.

    Terrified I reached behind tree to find the kid''s body torn from stomach. His mouth was open and was bloodies and his intestines were also floating in water.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.6)

    I didn¡¯t know what to do. Kid was already dead. He had healed me but it wasn¡¯t time to mourn or do something else. It was a lake popular among children. Anyone who would see us was going to think I had killed him.

    I watched my bloodied clothes. I couldn¡¯t run like it. First I had to clean his clothes as much as he could.

    No matter how much I tried, bloodstains wouldn¡¯t go. Instead my clothes looked more drenched.

    "Fuck it!" I said and decided to run how I was. I had forgotten I could run now. Or I even could ride on bicycle if I wanted.

    I knelt down the corpse and prayed for the gratitude. Then I rose to my feet. When I moved his eyes off the corpse then I saw a very nasty thing. Someone was at the other side and had seen me but he didn¡¯t show himself up from behind a bush. I was quiet sure than he wasn¡¯t going to show himself at any cost.

    The stranger''s eyes looked pale and more terrified than me. Even though he hadn¡¯t shown his face, I knew he was also scared as I was. He turned back and moved. Most importantly, he didn¡¯t show his full face. I saw half of it but what good is a half face?

    He then took steps back and climbed up to unpaved street. He ran from there as fast as he could. He was faster than me anyways.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    It didn¡¯t matter who had killed him or how he was killed. All it mattered was I was seen. And the witness was going to make things of what he had seen.

    I also ran after it.

    Neither cops came that night and nor the news of a child tore open from abdomen at shore of Lake Markeenz. I was made to forget my arthritis gone in the melancholy. All I had done with my feet was to walk around like a mad man with something stupid inside his head. I hadn¡¯t rested for a while after changing dress and was just walking around the house.

    It was my fortune, when I had come to my house then it was time of dusk and everybody had failed to notice my red colored clothes.

    Perhaps someone was going to discover the corpse next morning. I couldn¡¯t forget I had been seen by someone. I was sure the man who had run from there couldn¡¯t be the killer. I hadn¡¯t even seen anyone cross the lake at the time.

    Either he had seen another man kill the child or had come at the time when I was checking if he was alive or not. But who could kill the child? There was no one else.

    And was the kid so terrible that his intestines needed to be pulled out of his stomach?

    Those questions were inside my mind. Who killed him and why did he run away?

    I was in no condition to find answers of those. I just wanted to get rid of what had happened.

    If only I had known who the man was then I could have talked to him and somehow resolved it. But how was I gonna explain it? Was I going to say the child was laughing and suddenly screamed to death?

    The night was sleepless. I didn¡¯t even remember my wife for a split of second.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.7)

    The first thing which came inside my mind as soon as I opened my eyes was I was alone inside my bedroom. No cops had come and I had heard no police siren there last night. I didn¡¯t know when I had accidentally closed my eyes. Didn¡¯t realize when sleep had taken over me. I had slept and had a dreamless night. It was a rare occasion. You can know the man is depressed when he is afraid of his own dreams. In dreams you see what you were used to and when you wake up then discover all of them gone. Each and every morning you feel same sensation of loss and grief. Dreams remind you. And it terrifies me all the time. The thought sometimes give me restlessness and gifts me anxiousness.

    I stood on my feet in absence of pain in my joints. I went towards bathroom and relived my bladder. I washed my face and felt something gone from my face.

    My wrinkles had disappeared. I soon found myself in front of the mirror with both of my hands pulling my cheeks.

    In a sudden he I started to look ten years younger. Even the slight traces of vitiligo on my chin were gone. I didn¡¯t know if it had happened in a last day or overnight. I hadn¡¯t seen the mirror last night. I never had seen mirror for a long time because I believed there was nothing more left to see.

    Never had wanted to see my own ugly old face stare back at me with yellow and bloodshot veined eyes.

    I ran out of the bathroom and gasped in horror.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    "What has the kid done to me?" I began to question myself with nobody to answer. It was nice thing to happen to me, of course, but what I had seen was far away from being nice.

    I spent rest of the morning by grabbing a hand mirror in the balcony. My wrinkles weren¡¯t gone but wasn¡¯t clearly visible from distance. But I didn¡¯t want to get rid of wrinkles. I wanted to get rid of the man whom I didn¡¯t even know.

    My depression had been replaced by very odd palpation which was beyond description. But it wasn¡¯t as nasty as being depressed alone. I still choose the indescribable feeling rather than depression.

    I spent my time in lawn by listening to the neighbors. I didn¡¯t want to show anyone I could walk as any other young man so I had gripped a stick. Still the ease of my walk was noticeable for neighbors.

    Nobody asked me about my face. I wondered if my face had grown wrinkles again or what since no one was asking about my face. But no one was asking about my walk either. I touched my face with my now softer hands and found it to be smooth.

    But I couldn¡¯t stay in here like this. Lord had given me feet so I must walk no matter whatever I encounter in my way. I then began to walk on Eckenstam Johnson Road again to head towards Markeenz. Lord has given me face. I must use it wise.

    It took me just twenty minutes, exactly half of time I had taken last time, to reach in there. In the way I found my lost stick. I knelt down and had a look at the old stick which I had been calling Leg.

    I ran towards the crater but didn¡¯t see the bicycle. I crossed the crater and rushed down towards the tree where the kid had been killed but neither there was his body nor any traces of blood.

    "I knew you would come." I heard someone from sideways.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.8)

    "I knew you would come." I heard someone from sideways. The person was also standing on the edge of crater. I wondered how he I didn¡¯t catch him in my sight. Tarot tried to back but my feet froze, once again, after watching him pull a gun at me.

    "Put the gun down, boy." I said to the person who looked to have just touched fifties.

    "Will I?" I crawled by my buttocks and muddied my back in the process.

    "Yes you will." I nodded.

    "I want reasons for it ¨C"

    "Which I don¡¯t have any. All I have are woes and woes." I raised my hands in surrender, "Remorse piled up on remorse." I again nodded.

    He climbed down from rocks but didn¡¯t get close to me.

    "Tell me truth. Didn¡¯t you come for the body?" he asked me from there.

    "What are you talking about?"

    "The ripped kid." He snapped at me.

    "I must disappoint you then ¨C"

    "Then this man hasn¡¯t just come with woes and remorse. He''s come with lies piled on lies, lies piled on more lies and so on." He began to move forwards. With each of his step, I was hoping he would not press the trigger.

    "Where is the body?" I found it better not to hide anything. He could be anything but not a fool. He had seen me last evening and there was no point I could get away with it.

    "I buried it. But you don¡¯t need to know where I did it ¨C"This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    "I want to know why you did it." I spoke even though I should be quiet.

    "Is it what you brought here?" he, at last, put his hand down and it gave me so much relief. At least, he wasn¡¯t going to shoot me in this way.

    "It is fear which pulled me here. I swear." I then knelt on water. "And a truth of my innocence. Tell me something real. Wasn¡¯t it you who killed the kid, somehow swam at other shore and ¨C"

    "Did you see my clothes wet, ser?" I again heard the metallic click but didn¡¯t have guts to look up. Never had any idea stranger could frighten someone, who had spent his entire life with gun, by a gun.

    It was enough for me.

    "But I saw yours." he said, "Tell me who is the killer?"

    I couldn¡¯t resist myself from looking at him in shock.

    "How would I know the killer?" I asked.

    "Tell me his name and you shall not be harmed. Tell me name of your partner." He began to yell.

    "What are you talking about? I came here alone. All by myself."

    "Then who was the man who was drowning the kid there, hah? Who was he? While he was drowning the kid mercilessly then you were at the other side with wide smile on your face. I even saw him put a long knife inside his stomach. He ripped it and pulled out whatever was inside there. You heard sound but looked up at sky and smiled."

    "The kid was laughing."

    "Enough said. Where is he? I had hid in bushes so that he wouldn¡¯t see me. When I looked back then I saw him gone. There were you with dead child. I doubted you had seen me."

    "If you believe I''m also involved in the murder then why didn¡¯t you call the cops instead? And why didn¡¯t you try to save the kid?"

    "I could not. I cannot swim."

    "But you can speak and roar. You''ve proved you can do both but you did none." I snarled at him, "Why didn¡¯t you shout at him? Why?"

    "Because I was a mute before the murder. I was mute since my birth and I didn¡¯t want to die at the time." He answered me.

    Then he put the gun back on his waist.

    "I also was nearly a cripple a day ago." I spoke and it made a serious look in the man''s face, "And since you can speak, I would like to hear what your name is."

    He hesitated for a second. Only a second, "Joel Dormer."

    "Rick Tarot." I introduced myself in shortest I had ever done.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.9)

    "Rick Tarot." I introduced myself in shortest I had ever done.

    "I have seen you in local newspapers and TV interviews. You fought in Europe and Africa, didn¡¯t you?" Dormer asked.

    "Until I began to fight with myself." I looked at the waves of water.

    Dormer threw a look at me, "What made you come here last evening?"

    "The kid. He stopped me from killing myself thrice." I looked at his face, "And I would like to hear what had brought you here?"

    "The thing which I buried yesterday. He used to ride a bicycle and used to shout, ''Scream Aloud'' all the time. I took him for an omen and tried to scream but I couldn¡¯t. Next day he said, ''It ain''t so tough.'' I failed. Then last day he said, ''Hear me speak. Don¡¯t tie your tongue.'' He was shouting to his friends but somehow I felt like his words were directed to me, not their friends."

    "And now you can speak."

    Dormer nodded, "But you weren¡¯t the one with whom I wanted to speak. It was the toddler who gave me my voice back. He deserved to hear my first words. Now I don¡¯t even remember what my first word was, just like a child¡­"

    "He gave me my legs back." I had to say something there.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    "But both of us couldn¡¯t save him from dying. You had legs and I had voice. What a shame this is." Dormer interrupted.

    "We had fear in common. You feared me and I feared you." I told him before I interrogated, "Do you want to avenge him then?"

    "Avenge against the man who had killed him and disappeared in thin air? I didn¡¯t come for it."

    "Neither did I." I smiled as I sensed matter sorting out without fists and bloodsheds.

    "Here''s my proposal. This is something no one can explain. You want to forget it and so do I. I buried the kid in ground and I want you to bury his memory somewhere deep inside your old brain. He ain''t not coming back from his grave and it would be better if he doesn¡¯t come out of your mouth as well."

    It was what I wanted to hear.

    "I must agree with you." I giggled like a woman.

    "You will have to. I expected you to do it. Or I would have been burying you right beside the kid''s pit right now." Dormer said.

    "I want your phone number. In case anything wrong happens." Dormer said when we were about to part.

    I hesitated.

    "It would be wiser, old man. Don¡¯t think too much." He began to persuade me.

    I didn¡¯t thought anymore and gave him my number. He already had my name. He would have got my number even though I didn''t give it to him. I asked after he finished noting my number in notebook. In spite of having a voice now, he still had a tiny notebook and pencil in his pocket. Dormer was running out of pages but there was enough space to write my number. He wrote my name under number and underlined it twice.

    "What about yours? What''s your number?" I questioned him.

    "Mute people, who live alone, find no use of telephones in their houses." Dormer said and walked away.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.10)

    It was around 11 PM when my phone rang inside bedroom. I was forced to awake just in order to answer the call even though I didn¡¯t want to. Is it Joey? I asked myself as I turned on lights to see the number.

    It wasn¡¯t my son''s number. I seemed to have forgotten him but someone else had remembered me. The call was straight from phone booth.

    I picked the receiver, "Rick Tarot here."

    "Good it''s you. I''m Dormer." He gasped.

    "Speak to someone else. Make new friends to speak to. Even if you want to speak to me, don¡¯t call me in such time ¨C" I was annoyed.

    "Something''s urgent. I''m coming to your house right now."

    "Wait! Wait! You aren''t" I was surprised with him in a sudden.

    "Yes I am. I already am on the way."

    Damn! "Why would you come here?" I yelled at him.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    "This is nasty Tarot. This has gone nasty now. Someone sent me a letter inside my house and there was written that he had seen me bury the corpse. He says he will inform cops about it."

    "Then what''s the point in coming here? You want to hide or what?"

    "He has named you in the letter as well. I cannot speak everything on phone. I must be there." His voice became more and more frightened.

    It gave a jolt to my body. Sleep flew away out of the window.

    Dormer resumed, "If I had met him in person then I could have convinced him but here is just a piece of paper with threat scribbled on it. I am coming there right now whether you want me to come or not."

    "Come as fast as you can." I said and put the receiver back on dial pad. Then I went to my bed and sat with hands clutching my bald head and sweaty forehead.

    I got up, removed night gown, dressed up in a casual way and began to wait for his newly made friend. I didn¡¯t know what time it was going to be when Dormer would alive. I had no idea if he was coming by foot or had hired a cab.

    Hire a cab, you son of a bitch. I cursed Dormer.

    Half an hour later phone again rang.

    "Dormer! Are you an idiot? Why didn¡¯t you come here?" I raged at him.

    "I''m sorry. Your new friend isn¡¯t coming there now." He said.

    "Why wouldn¡¯t you come?" I questioned Dormer after remembering how much hurry he was in when he had called him half an hour ago. And now he was saying tat he didn¡¯t need to come here anymore.

    "Because he''s dead." The answer came.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.11)

    Because he''s dead." The answer came.

    You couldn¡¯t believe what he had just listened.

    "W¨Cwho are y¨Cyou?" I mumbled.

    "The man who killed Dormer and the little bastard in the river."

    "Why are you calling me then? I haven''t seen you and I am not interested in finding out who you are. You''ve called fromthe phonebooth so there is no chance I can find you by your number. And for Dormer, I don¡¯t care. I''ve seen many people die in front of my eyes. If someone dies behind mybackthen I wouldn¡¯t be so much bothered."

    "Old man with heart having no place for the dead." Caller giggled, "It is shame you don¡¯t care aboutthe kidwho saved you. Shame you don¡¯t care about your friend who madean agreementwith you and it shameful your heart still beats for your wife whose heart had stopped four decades ago."

    "Fuck out. I want no problems here." I cussed at the murderer. I wanted no part in anysort oftrouble.

    "You have no interest on it I killed the kid who gave you your life back. And your feet. You still are interested in the woman who died around half a century ago andhasn¡¯t given anythingbut miseries to you till this date."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "I had put myself in misery. Now I don¡¯t want to put myself in trouble back again. I''m hanging the call."

    "Don¡¯t you want to know what your friend had whispered inearof death? Don¡¯t you want to listenwhatthe toddler and Dormer had whispered in death''s ear? And don¡¯t you have any concern on what you wife had whispered in death''s ears? And what death had whispered her back."

    "Dead is dead even if she''s my wife." I accepted the harsh reality and took a long breath, "I''m not interested in knowing what their last words were. It won''t bring them back."

    "Do you think it will stop you from me to reach for you?" caller asked.

    "What do you want?"

    "Some people¡­." Then he hung the call by himself.

    It was the time when I was relieved because the conversation hadn¡¯t turned out to be something which could becomea threatto me. But I knew well the threat wasn¡¯tdanger,but the man who had killed Dormer was.

    I went inside other room, collected some sleeping pills and found the strongest one among them. Then I took it and went on his bed. For a while I forgot theonce muteman was no more alive. The poor creature hadn¡¯t even experienced how it felt to live with mouth from where words came.

    I slept withsweat allover his body. Even if it was sweaty, he wanted to sleep. And I didn''tfear dreamsanymore¡­

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.12)

    "Joey Tarot¨Cson of Rick Tarot had just woken up from his bed nearly in midnight at Portland. He wore his cotton slippers andbegan to descenddownstairswithout making anynoise. He knew he walking out of his bed in midnight was nowhere suspicious.On the other hand, nobodyhad seen him.

    What he had done didn¡¯tmatter,but what mattered the most was what he was about to do.

    He had been there for settlement of his divorce case. For months and months Joey had been pleadinghiswife not to divorce. According to him, there still was a chance for settlement. She was in no mood to settle. She just wanted her part from his property and wanted to part away.

    "I will not spend my whole life with an impotent man who cannot even give me a child." She had told him several times.

    Tarot had stood silence.

    "I want achild,not your silence. Your father thinks the kid is our son. He is a fool man. He didn¡¯t even find out the infant he had seen six yearsagoand the kid he is seeing now are different ones. I don¡¯t love this adopted child. I am fed up with him!"

    "You will not tell this to my father." Joey had screamed.

    "So you will let him die without letting him know the kid he thinks is our child is adopted? How cruel you are." She had sobbed.

    "I cannot give you a child. Even you know the thing. I am a fucking barren man!" Joey shouted and fell back oncouch.

    "I want this child gone."

    "So what am I supposed to do? Eat him? Don¡¯t be a silly bitch, Avyanna." He got up on his feet.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    "There''s still a way if this child cannot be gone."

    Joey looked with furiousness at her.

    "I should be gone."

    "You''re free to go." Joey said in a sudden.

    The way Avyanna looked at him was full of aghast. She had expected him to think of an alternative way.

    "I''m free to go, isn''t it?"

    Joey nodded without blinking.

    "Yes. I want a successor. The kid will stay with me and take whatever will be with me when I die. I''m upset you''re talking about divorce. I am not mood of divorce, not because I love you but because I don¡¯t want to share any part of my money with you. I am about to be bankrupt. I can think of divorce only if my father dies."

    "I had wanted a child, Joey, not divorce." She sobbed.

    "You also know this can¡¯t happen. I''m ashamed of myself and my cock!"

    "The shame is you''re lying to your own father. There''s no shame in you for being impotent." She said, "I''ve no problem in raising this kid till you''ve arranged your papers for our divorce."

    "I cannot include this topic in papers, dear. Father''s old, wait fora couple ofyears if you want divorce. I am in no state to give you part of my property. I will go broke this way."

    "I don¡¯t care about your father. I wantdivorce. Putanything,but it should look reasonable enough to make us part away."

    "There should be no reason. Let''s make it fair. We were bored with each other, our lovevanished,and now we don¡¯t want to be together anymore. It''ll give you decent percent of what I own and it will help you for sure." He said at her, "But after I rightfully get what I am about to get."

    She had agreed that night.

    Only for the night.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.13)

    Few days later, Joey came to her. He wanted the child now and demanded for him.

    "He''s dead." She stared at him, "And I killed the adopted creature."

    "How dare you even say so, whore?" He raged at her foolish statement and slapped her, "Where is he, give me back to him."

    "It''s all what an impotent man can do. Slap and call her a whore." she asked with smirk.

    "Where is he? He''s now old enough to hear the truth."

    "He''s dead. I had already said I cannot stand him. I had told you five years ago, when we had lost our son. I wanted to tell your father we can never have any children, but it was you who stopped me and forced me to adopt a child! For how long could I do it?"

    "WHERE IS HE?"

    "How many times will my answer make you believe he''s dead? I got him killed. You can guess, after being your wife for all those years, whose name I used. He isn¡¯t your son and neither mine. I don¡¯t want to divorce. I have done what was to be done."

    Joey still wasn¡¯t up to believing her. "You could have made me raise him. You could have done anything better than killing him!"Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    "Killing was for making me to do what I never wanted to do. Now, you are free to report this to cops if you want. I am ready to be arrested. Being behind the bars will perhaps give me more relief than being with you and that kid." She snapped.

    "You are a cunt, Avyanna. Cunt." He cursed her.

    She took long breaths in anger but said nothing.

    "I killed him." she said in anger and started to walk back until she disappeared behind a door.

    He spent next few days understanding how much cornered he was. There was no chance he could prove he wasn¡¯t murderer. As long as his secret was hidden, he would be safe.

    For being safe, he needed to get away from his past. His past included his father as well. He had lied to him by saying he was going to return in merely ten days, but he wasn¡¯t going to return home. He was going to lie to him by saying he always had been a bad father and they were no longer interested in helping his father.

    He was going to leave the heartbroken old man to die alone. He was going to say his family had migrated to somewhere in Portland. Even thinking of it shivered his bones.

    He had come to Portland with same thought in his mind, but he didn¡¯t stick to it. He changed his plan.

    She was talking about settlement.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.14)

    "Sometimes violence is the best which can be done." He said to himself on the stairs.

    It was the perfect time he had been wanting. He already had strangled his wife to death, inside her bedroom, and had an idea to hide the murder. He had loved to see her feet move in pain. He wasn¡¯t going to forget it his entire life.

    He went to the door downstairs and opened the door. There he saw someone already waiting for him with a rucksack in with him. He was the same mercenary whom she had hired to kill their adopted son. And inside the bag was the murdered boy.

    "I''ve strangled her already."

    "Then you''ve left proofs already." The man said to Joey, "You should have waited for me to come. You shouldn¡¯t have taken the matter in your own hands."

    "What could I do? She was about to leave. She wanted to go somewhere. I needed to do something."

    "This isn¡¯t what you should have done." Mercenary said to him again, "Anyways, it won¡¯t matter very much. Your divorce case isn¡¯t filed, no one knows you are your wife were having disputes and your father thinks your wife and his grandson have gone to visit somewhere."A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    "Yes it''s true ¨C"

    "And he thinks you are in Oklahoma, instead of Oregon." Mercenary wasn¡¯t done yet, "So even if we put these bodies somewhere, how will you make your father and your neighbors to ignore the fact your family is missing?"

    "I will write a letter. It will not be from me. It will be on my wife''s name. I will write she has eloped somewhere with his grandson and will never come back."

    "And nobody knows you''re here, isn¡¯t it?"

    "Yes it is. I am supposed to be in Oklahoma. No one knows what happened between me and Stacy." He answered.

    "You are a clever son of a bitch!" he smirked at Joey and pulled the corpse outside the rucksack. The kid was slit on throat.

    "You should be grateful my guys didn¡¯t use gun to kill this guy. They abducted him and slit his throat. This is an ideal situation for what we''re supposed to do."

    "What do you have in your mind?" Joey asked.

    "She was talking about setting things for good, isn¡¯t it?"

    Joey nodded.

    "I''m setting things right now." Mercenary said, "Go and bring down your bitch. I''ll meet you in the kitchen."

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.15)

    Joey took her down to the kitchen then.

    The killer then burnt fire all inside the house. At last he leaked the gas cylinder, "The least suspicious manner of murder. In your case, it will go as an accident. Now let''s get the fuck out of here before we set ourselves on fire. It won''t take too long for this place to explode."

    Both men ran from there and sat inside the car. Soon they were driving away. Two minutes later, they heard a huge explosion.

    Joey knew where it had come from.

    She had told of setting things right but the mercenary had talked of setting things on fire.

    "Haha! Do you understand why I brought stinking corpse of your son with me? The story now will be that your wife and your son were together one night. Son was sleeping and woman went down to kitchen for making some coffee. Mishap happened with gas cylinder and whole house exploded. And this all happened when you were somewhere else." Hired gun said to him. Suddenly he resumed, "Bitch needed to die. How can she murder her own son? In fact, he''s your son as well."

    "I don¡¯t want to talk about this." He questioned himself about his manhood, "Now I want to reach Anderson Island to my father as soon as I can. I had left message on his phone saying I am never coming there and neither is my family. I shouldn¡¯t have left my father alone there. He''s an old depressed man who needs support just to walk. I don¡¯t know what he might do if depression catches him. He may kill himself, goddamn it!"This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    "Why don¡¯t you call him?"

    "I had tried but he already has cut the phone line, I presume. He wants nothing to hear from me. And he doesn¡¯t want to hear anything from anyone else too. I would have worried less if Hansen was still somewhere to be found." Joey made remorse.

    "What will you tell him when you get there? What about your wife and son?"

    "I would say she eloped with someone else. This blast has happened in Portland and this place is very much far from Anderson Island. Even if this incident reaches in father''s ears then he will have nothing to believe his beloveds were the victims. It¡¯s easy thing to do."

    "Be careful Joey, convincing an old man is either easiest or toughest thing to do." Mercenary said and it was the last thing they had spoken for another hour.

    The next time they spoke was when they had spotted some people standing on the road. "What are they doing there?" Joey asked to him when he was still driving.

    "Drunk shits." He looked at four black men in front of them, "Don¡¯t stop the car at any cost."

    "STOP THIS CAR!" one of them yelled and Joey had to put on brakes.

    "Why did you stop this car?" Mercenary frowned at him, "You should have run this car over them."

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.16)

    Two of them approached near bonnet and kicked it. One of them sneaked inside the car with beer bottle in his hand. Mercenary was annoyed to see them while Joey had no idea what was happening.

    "Nice car! HAHA!" one of them yelled, "I want it."

    Then the drunken man pulled out his revolver from his waist.

    One of them even urinated on the window pane when rest of them broke into laughter.

    "Get out of this car." one of them yelled, "This is ours now."

    "Do something." Joey pushed the hired killer.

    One goon pulled the door and pulled Joel out with ease. His head hit on hard paved street.

    "Give them what you want." Mercenary came out of there and whispered in Joey''s ears.

    "I need to get to my house!"

    "You can also take a cab. Now shut your mouth and make no trouble." He suggested.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    They watched all of those goons get inside the car. The one without shirt on driving seat looked at them.

    "Move away faggots!" he roared at them.

    "Do as they say. They aren¡¯t to be messed with." Joey was again whispered.

    Joey turned back to walk.

    He heard gun roar out of nowhere. When he fell down on his knees with sudden pain within him then he realized he was shot on waist.

    Joey roared in pain.

    Those men were about to shoot the hired gun too but the killer pulled out his own gun and fired at the car.

    Goons looked scared because their adversary also had gun with them.

    For some reason, they opted to drive away and the killer didn¡¯t even waste another bullet.

    He looked down and watched Joey lurching in pain drenched in blood.

    The pace in which he was losing blood was fatal. The blood loss could kill him in an hour. It meant he was going to lose his consciousness in not more than twenty minutes. And the pain.

    He couldn¡¯t bear the pain.

    Joey roared in pain as he felt numb below the waist. He bellowed at killer, "Do something. Take me to medical facility."

    "Sorry. I cannot do it. I am a hired killer and about every cop in Portland knows how I look like. If I take you to hospital then I will be caught."

    "You can''t do it. Do as I say. I paid you to take me to my home."

    Killer started to walk away.

    "Wait! Call someone. I will die like this."

    But the killer didn¡¯t even look back and disappeared from end of road.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.17)

    What can this smell be? Are you having a sweet dream? Hahaha."The laughter made me smile in my sleep. I saw my wife in his dream after a long time. This goddamn smell! I coughed twice then she disappeared.

    A foul smell filled my nostrils. Every time I sniffed in the smell, I had to resist the urge to vomit. I opened my eyes and blocked my nose because smell was unbearable.

    I threw the blanked aside and stepped on the floor. The room was dark so there was no way to find source of the smell. I had just walked few steps when I tripped over something and fell face first on the floor.

    I stumbled back on my feet after thinking I had dropped pillow to the floor in my sleep. I had done it multiple times before. This time could also be no different.

    I held my aching forehead and switched on the light.  Then turned back to put the pillow back on the bed. I felt like earth was moving below my feet. I fell down after the sight.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    A rotting corpse of a kid was inside the bedroom. The body was all muddy and was stinking. However, I made guts and turned the body around to see its face.

    I saw the similar face with mouth wide open where insects and worms were crawling. The opened up stomach was proof he was the same child whom I had seen being killed in Markeenz.

    But what frightened me more than it was a letter near it which read:

    Dormer refused to do what I had said. He hadn¡¯t mentioned he had got this corpse with letter of mine. Now whether you want to do it or not, you will do it. Meet me in Markeenz if you don¡¯t want this to go any worse. And believe me, there are worse things than this. There always exists the worse on the other side.

    "Satan wrote me this letter!" I gasped and looked at the corpse. A dead person had never been so scary to me before like this.

    I knew it. The man who was behind this wasn¡¯t a human. So I thought it was better thing by not arguing with him.

    Depression had taught me what it was as dreadful as death itself. Now Satan was about to teach me that about many other worse things than death.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.18)

    I didn¡¯t wait for morning to leave the house. I went out of my house in early morning. The weather looked rainy and I could feel tiny droplets of rain hit my face. Felt cold breeze hit my body which made me shiver. I looked up at grey clouds above me and mist all around the place.

    The time did neither look like rainy season nor like winter.

    I reached at the lake in less than twenty minutes. The place where had been divine kid''s bicycle was a thing which I never had seen before.

    There was a tall naked brown figure which didn¡¯t look like any creature I had seen in my entire life. Satan was almost ten feet tall and had a trident in his hand which had blood dripping from its pointy ends. I couldn¡¯t believe the trident was even taller than him. And¡­I wasn¡¯t even reached close to him yet.

    Satan had fangs which showed up when he smiled at me. After watching me, he spread his bat wings and looked even enormous. When Satan took off then I noticed human like limbs having claws and talons like birds.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    But I didn¡¯t even step back when Satan came floating in air towards me. I knew running few steps couldn¡¯t help in saving my life.

    "Your Lord is dead." Satan said to me, without blinking.

    I said nothing to him at all.

    "You are so ingrate miserable creature." Satan was speaking again. It took time for me to notice Satan''s voice was no different than mine.

    The voice also had been the same on phone. He had failed to realize Satan was talking in my voice in the call as well.

    "You talk in my voice? And you killed the child?" I asked at once.

    Satan got on his feet and nodded.

    "You also know who this child was. If he hadn¡¯t cured you and Dormer then I would have left this place like I had come. I killed your Lord, don¡¯t you want redemption?"

    "I cannot avenge you. Stop mocking me." I tried to imagine him as no one but a goon who was playing mind games with me. I knew in a second my assumption was wrong.

    Satan laughed and said, "Dormer had said the same when he had seen me -"

    "What do you want me to do?" I interrupted him. I had just cut off Satan!

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.19)

    Satan stared at me with cold eyes with never ending smirk. It made me look away from his cat like eyes. I wanted to look anywhere but not his eyes.

    "Do I exist or not?" Satan asked.

    I nodded.

    "Good." The smile didn¡¯t end at all, "Do you want to touch my trident?"

    "I ¨C I am okay." But I wasn¡¯t.

    "You''re refusing me." Satan snapped.

    "If you would let me touch." Tarot gasped, "I will¡­"

    Then I touched the trident which was drenched in blood.

    "I still don¡¯t understand what you want me to do." I looked up at him.

    "You already have understood. You already have seen what I want you to do. You had laughed the loudest when you knew what you were going to do." Satan spoke to me and touched my head.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    The problem was, I had no idea what he was talking about. And I didn¡¯t have enough courage to question the frightening Satan.

    "I will do what you tell me to do. I vow." I said in a sudden. I wanted his hands off my head. A lie could do the work right there.

    It did.

    "I want a place to eat and I want it done in your house. Nobody is willing to offer Satan hospitality." Satan remembered Dormer.

    "You are welcomed in mine." I said, feeling awkward.

    Satan''s smirk even widened after hearing it. His eyes widened and looked as wet as it always had been.

    Satan again put his icy cold hand on my head and caressed remains of the hair. Coldness seemed to be increasing every second.

    "You are welcomed." I looked at him and backed away few steps because cold was unbearable by now.

    I walked backwards for a long time and saw Satan give no reaction to me. It looked like he wanted me gone now. I wanted to go away from there. I wished the same thing would happen with Satan as soon as it could happen.

    A place to eat? Is this what he wants? Is this what Dormer got killed for? But I didn¡¯t look back at him. Just pretended like there was a tree behind me. And trees are not meant to be talked with.

    And like a tree, Satan made no move.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.20)

    Local cops in Anderson Island weren¡¯t used to of handling murder cases or suicide cases. Enforcement was supervised by Washington State Police Department and their representatives were cops from Tacoma Police Department.

    This was the same place where notorious Brymer had been arrested. And there were the same cops who had played major role in arresting him and sending his back behind the bars.

    "What do you think, Warner? A man is found dead inside a phone booth." Olliston told to his companion.

    "I can make nothing of this thing. Heart attack is what comes to my mind after watching this." Warner said when he looked at wide open eyes of Dormer who looked to have died peacefully, "He had a clean death."

    Jon Olliston still wasn¡¯t saying anything while other cops around him were whimpering.

    "What still does make you believe this is a murder?" Warner asked him, "You saw we''ve got no fingerprints anywhere. There are no damn fingerprints even on glasses of this booth!"Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    "I support your idea because I am also presuming the same. A man''s silence doesn¡¯t always mean he has ruse or disagreement in his mind."

    "Doubts? Does it mean doubt?"

    "Why doesn¡¯t it? This man was mute and he is found dead inside a phone booth! If he was a man who could speak and died in phone booth then I would have considered this as an accident. But a mute man dies in phone booth. Mr. Alford needs to be informed about this thing."

    "The old man is demented as fuck." Warner told him, "He may get insane and if he gets insane then we may lose some vital information which is inside his mind."

    "Let him lose his mind. Being part of secrets is nothing but danger." Olliston looked at him.

    "Why don¡¯t you leave this job if you hate it so much?" Warner asked out of blue, "You don¡¯t seem to be enjoying all this violence, mysteries and whatsoever."

    "I have made my mind already. I may leave this department next month. While you and Benca have a much harder time here, I will be in Texas. I am aware of drug cartels there but it will be better than this active state. I don¡¯t care which city in Texas they do transfer me to. I just don¡¯t want to stay in Washington."

    "And till that day you will remain this half ¨C hearted?" Warner raised his voice which made him stand out from whimpering of other men.

    "Hey, did you find whose number he had dialed before he died?" he asked another cop who had been listing number as much as he could.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.21)

    Olliston looked at his list and bellowed by putting his head inside PCO, "I said all we need are some recent numbers. Are we supposed to make a phone diary of what you''re noting?"

    "What if he had called ten or twenty people?"

    "He is a mute. I will be surprised if he had called any one of them." Jon told the person who stopped the pen, "Good, now step off the body''s arm."

    The cop stepped out of the corpse and handed him the list but didn¡¯t look on it and asked another cop who had been given power to collect data about Dormer''s personal life, "Have you got any useful information?"

    "Ah¡­he''s a hobo. This man doesn¡¯t even have a citizenship. Don¡¯t know from where he had come wandering to here." He shrugged at Olliston.

    "Hobo and prostitutes'' deaths are the same. Even laws don¡¯t give a damn about them. Mainly these gypsies. What can make anyone kill such people?" Olliston spoke to him.

    "They''ve got no money, no home and nothing. This man didn¡¯t even have his goddamn voice. I''ve noted where he had been living since last two years. Joel Dormer lived inside an abandoned house near River Markeenz."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    "And he''s found dead in Eckenenstam Johnson Road? Isn''t this quiet amusing?"

    "Mutes don¡¯t use phones, let alone phone booth. Maybe he was walking in road here and some dogs came here trying to rip him apart. And it is possible he hid inside this phone booth for his safety."

    Olliston looked around the fresh dog droppings around there. Olliston couldn¡¯t stop himself from being convinced. Even the cops had encountered with many vicious dogs around the place.

    "Maybe he hid there to save himself from canines and claws. And maybe he was walking in night by doing nothing but it doesn¡¯t mean he can die just by sitting in here." Olliston said to them.

    Another cop squeezed way in through the crowd and crossed the crime scene tape.

    "Sir, I guess we''ve found someone whom we should be listening carefully." He whispered in Olliston''s ear, "He claims to have seen something before Dormer had walked out of his house."

    "Bring him in. If required then we will have to take him to Tacoma. But don¡¯t tell him he may be heading to Tacoma. He may panic and can ruin everything." He said then the cop disappeared back inside the crowd. Olliston then looked down at the phone numbers list.

    The first numbers he saw on the top was 666.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.22)

    I had come in my house with trembling feet. I could not forget I had seen that police had gathered in phone booth inspecting dead Dormer. More than it, I had seen Satan. Not only I had seen it but it had touched me twice.

    Both times it was on the head. I didn¡¯t know if I needed to fear it or it was to be taken in a normal way. Maybe Satan was happy because I had welcomed him. But still he hadn''t given me reason why he killed Dormer. Or it was something else Dormer had refused? If it was, what could it be?

    Then I went towards the trunk where I had put the old magazines from the war days. That morning I was finding it hard to resist the feeling of seeing the faces of my friends (no matter if they were alive or not) whom I had got bored of last time.

    I went upstairs and found key to unlock the big trunk. Still I had in mind regarding police investigating on Dormer''s death.

    "Cops were checking phone booth. If they find out a mute man had called me then I would be in trouble." I told myself. "I will tell the cops I had seen the mute many times before so he recognized me. I would say I had given him money sometimes to feed himself and I also had given him his number. In this way cops will have nothing to doubt on me. Dead will not speak anything. And what do I have to do with the hobo''s death anyways?"The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    But still I couldn¡¯t get away from the fact my son had abandoned me, Dormer was dead and Satan had approached to me. And most of all, there was no Stacy.

    But still I couldn¡¯t understand what Satan wanted with me. Was it all a place where he could eat? It was the stupidest reason he had heard had got someone killed. No, no, no. Dormer had refused to do something else.

    I then took no time to open the lid. I screamed as hundred of rats jumped out of the trunk. As they jumped out, they came out with pieces of papers in their mouths and attached to their feet.

    But rats didn¡¯t stop jumping out of there for a long time. Each rat was no smaller than a brick and looked to be heavier than ordinary mice. As I fell down, they ran all over his body and all over the room. They even crawled on my face.

    Most of them scattered after finding doorway open. Either way, those rats were to be inside my house. So their absence from the bedroom didn¡¯t matter at all. They were going to be in the house anyways.

    When all of them had run then just ripped pieces of papers were left. It wasn¡¯t just papers which had been torn by mice. They were my memories.

    The things I didn¡¯t like to see seemed to be precious than anything else.

    I got on the knees, screamed in anger and began to weep while I held tiny pieces of papers. I had no idea till when he had cried.

    The only thing which sympathized me was my wife''s photo which was still hung on the wall inside a frame.

    My house was full of rats, not monkeys, after all¡­

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.23)

    I spent the whole day in local church which was about a mile far from my house. I had known all nuns and fathers of there and they we spent all the time by talking about spiritual things.

    I didn¡¯t mention about evil to them.  I didn¡¯t even utter word: SATAN, even though it was all I had in my mind.

    He looked at the beautiful mosaics of virgins, men and women holding and breast feeding their babies. I always had found myself uncomfortable with nude and under ¨C dresses images of women on the mosaics. "Even sex can be sacred and so is nudity." one of those oldest nuns had said once (who were still virgin).

    I felt gleaming green, yellow and red rays of light hit my face through the mosaics. I knelt down with tears rolling down the eyes while I prayed Lord.

    I looked at the beautiful mosaics turn brighter and brighter until sun had rise so dazzling, it no more spread colors. The light fell on me but not on the giant cross. I waited till the noon by waiting if the sunlight would come and touch the cross and illuminate the victim on it. But it didn¡¯t reach there. It didn¡¯t even reach on his nailed feet.

    It took a long day to realize the light had met me only. I saw many people gather and leave all the day but I didn¡¯t go.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    "I want the light to fall on cross." I had told myself and other nuns.

    Sun went to other side of church and the tale was same. There didn¡¯t come light on the cross.

    It did not come.

    When I arrived back in my house then I felt like an intruder who had invaded in a place full of rats. It looked like they hadn¡¯t chewed anything else because nothing nasty was in front of him.

    I was glad to find mice hadn¡¯t eaten money inside the cupboard even though my clothes were ruined. My old army dress looked very similar to a net now and many things had become obsolete.

    I went upstairs to check if Stacy''s photo was still fine or not. And I was pleased to find it still on the wall. But I didn¡¯t like what was written on its glass:

    GIFT IS ON THE WAY.

    But under there was the same corpse which smelled worst than ever. This time I couldn¡¯t resist urge to vomit by the smell. I covered my mouth and ran outside the room then shut the door.

    Satan had turned my life into hell. I realized one didn¡¯t need to be in hell if earth was full of evil.

    Another problem had come with the body. Someone could notice it. Even though no ¨C one was going to see it (I was going to make sure nobody would); no one was going out of his house without asking about the smell. The best way to avoid such trouble was to avoid any one else''s presence in there.

    In the night my bedroom was downstairs in the lobby. I slept in the open while I was accustomed of sleeping in narrow room.

    I dreamt of my wife. More precisely than he ever had.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.24)

    The first thing I did after waking up was spraying fragrances all around the house. I was just wishing no guest would come.

    Who the hell would come here anyways? Hansen was the only one who used to see me. In ten minutes I made the house smell better but he had no way I could prevent rats keeping running around.

    "You should be doing something for these nasty rats."

    I was shocked to hear the voice behind me. The voice wasn¡¯t scary but the time when it had been heard was frightening.

    He was a neighbor of his who had recently returned from somewhere. I was blaming myself for the man''s presence because I had forgotten to lock the door.

    "How''re you doing Mr. Tarot?" he asked.

    "Rats. They''re troubling me." I jerked the spray after finding nothing was left in it to spray.

    "What''s this smell here?" he sniffed in with squeamish sound.

    "Rat shits. I presume." I wanted him out of his house as soon as possible, "The next thing I am going to do is to bring a mop and then scrub all around this house. After it I will buy a rat poison and make those little bastards eat them."

    I reckoned nobody would be interested in hearing an old man talk about rats and rat''s droppings. In fact the man shouldn¡¯t even be there because of the smell. How was he still there without covering his nose?

    I ignored him and spoke no more. I wanted to act like a rude old man.

    "Did you hear of the mute''s death?" He said after long silence.

    "I have heard about it." I also know who killed him. I didn¡¯t turn back and took a mop, "They say he was found dead in a PCO."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    "I was there when cops had arrived to see him. And I didn¡¯t like the view of it."

    "Was the corpse bloodied or what?" I asked even though I knew what reason of his death was.

    "No, he was clean as sleeping. You know what; they took him for autopsy and found out he died of sudden stroke. He had diabetes and cholesterol anyways." He said when I made bucket of soap water ready.

    "So this case is going to be closed, isn¡¯t it?"

    "Confirmation of death''s cause doesn¡¯t mean the case is closed." He sat on couch after swiping some more droppings.

    "Are they going to make the dead man speak?" I laughed, filled with nervousness.

    "Well, I don¡¯t know. They had been checking whom he had called before his collapse. People claim he had dialed 666. Curious people couldn¡¯t help themselves from sneaking in phone booth after cops were gone."

    666! Satan! I gasped and almost lost grip on the mop.

    I mixed soap in bucketful of water and listened, "And other numbers in there are worthless because they were dialed many days before last night."

    I took a breath of relief. Thanks God, Dormer had called me from another PCO.

    "How do you get such news from?" I turned back and asked.

    "I have one friend whose friend who works in this case. All I''ve heard is rumors, Mr. Tarot. He ain''t telling me everything but he has told me enough of it."

    The rumors were right. If any number was found in PCO then they would have taken me for interrogation already.

    "But Derrick. You know Derrick, don¡¯t you?" he asked me.

    "Yes I do. He lives near the coast. The ugly fisherman. What has he got to do with this matter?" I rose up and went towards him.

    "Dormer lived near Derrick''s house. And Derrick explained to cops that house he had seen Dormer giving a piece of paper to a kid while he was drinking outside. Around an hour after the child''s departure, the mute walked out of his house and died in phone booth."

    "Dormer gave someone a letter? Why didn¡¯t he give to anyone else but a toddler?" I questioned like a cop. Now I didn¡¯t want him to leave all of a sudden.

    "Maybe the toddler was the best he could find there. And what the hell was the kid doing there anyways?" he shrugged.

    "Sounds interesting." What have you done Dormer? I was scared.

    "It sounded same to the cops. Now they want the kid." Then he rose up to his feet and stretched a bit, "Whose blood is it?"

    He pointed under the table. There was blood coming out from under tablecloth which touched the floor.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.25)

    There was blood coming out from under tablecloth which touched the floor. Even the end of tablecloth''s end was red.

    I couldn¡¯t let any word out of his mouth. Was it another corpse? There was a lot of blood on there. How didn¡¯t I notice it?

    The neighbor went near the table and knelt by closing his nose. Then he pulled the table cloth up.

    "Jesus!" words came out of his mouth.

    I looked there and saw a cat chewing a big rat. The cat was sitting on pile of a dozen rodents ¨C all of them dead. Cat didn¡¯t mind us see him eat.

    "If this cat keeps killing mice in this way then he will save you money for poison." But I had bought poison already in the way to my house from church. He put the table cloth down and rose up, "I should leave now. Sorry to say but this place needs ¨C needs ¨C you know what I mean to say. Sanitation."

    I didn¡¯t stop him from going.

    I closed the door and rushed upstairs to the bedroom no matter how foul the smell was. I unlocked the door and pushed myself in there.

    Satan was there on his all limbs and it was eating the kid''s corpse like a hyena. Satan''s face was bloodied and large chunks of flesh from corpse were gone. He looked up at me.

    "What did Dormer do?" I asked to Satan, who was still chewing rotten flesh.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    "He had weird habit of writing things which he had witnessed in a day. He had written down what he had seen in Markeenz." Then Satan again bit corpse.

    A diary?

    "Did he give the paper which wrote about me and you to the kid?"

    Satan nodded, "Not only it. He had told the child to deliver it to police in case he died. He was clever. He didn''t speak to child but told him to deliver it by writing it down. Now Dormer''s dead and the letter will be in police''s hands once the child knows Dormer is no more alive."

    "Will you do me a favor?" I asked with courage because Satan hadn¡¯t done any harm to me yet. Or he was yet to¡­

    He looked at me with its cold eyes.

    Satan grabbed his trident and rose up. He walked near to me while I kept looking down and prayed to God.

    "You are the only one who can do it, so. If you do it then you''ll owe me." I looked at Satan''s face.

    "You gave me a reason to spend another day in this place." He said, "I had dined and I was ready to leave."

    "You can leave next night. If you don¡¯t stop the kid from sending letter then I will deal with problems which I cannot bear. All you need to do is to snatch away the letter."

    "What''s the child''s name?"

    "I have no idea. It would be easy for you to find who he is ¨C"

    "I cannot manipulate and read minds of children. Those who can are still up in heaven." Satan said.

    "Don¡¯t you know who the child is?"

    "Children. I cannot do such sorcery on children. They are untouchable from my powers of mind reading and manipulation. But I can do the rest."

    "You can do it with Dormer''s. You can see the child''s face from Dormer''s eyes and can find it ¨C"

    "Beware human! Satan sees no face of any child. They are faceless for us and untraceable." He snapped.

    I took breath of horror.

 The Nymphs of Mosaic (Ch.26)

    "But something can be done. All you want it getting away without any suspect, isn¡¯t it?" Satan asked.

    "That''s what I''m asking for." I said.

    Satan again smiled and I knew what the answer was. Then Satan went towards the window to fly.

    "Wait! I don¡¯t think you killed Dormer just because he didn¡¯t let you eat this corpse inside his place." I stopped him. Now I was taking him in a light way.

    Satan turned back at me, "He never would have denied the wise way."

    "He died because he had chosen a wise way. He had no problem with me doing this in his place."

    "Why did you kill him then?" Tarot narrowed his eyes.

    "Because he had begun to understand what he was seeing. He had already understood from whom he was seeing." Satan said.

    "See what?"

    "He knew how to use his eyes like ours. He had learnt how to see things better than us because he could see children faces as well." Satan spoke in cold voice.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    "How could anyone poses such ability? He saw what we can''t see? Do you mean by future, past and meanwhile?"

    Satan laughed, "Everyone can see. Everyone has seen. He just knew what was right and what was useless. Everyone has seen, human."

    "Why aren¡¯t you hurting me then?"

    "Because you don¡¯t know what you''d seen. Now I don¡¯t need to fear you. You remember nothing. With his voice, Dormer had got his visions recalled one by one. Then he refused me." Satan turned towards window again, "You had seen me a long time ago. You had cried and were terrified when you had seen me first. Be glad human, you wouldn¡¯t have lost your life if you had unwelcomed me here. You would have lost your wits."

    I didn¡¯t know what he was talking about. I was scared but I hadn¡¯t even yelled after seeing him. What the fuck did he mean to say?

    "You had laughed loud when you had seen this corpse in here. And you had run when you had seen me eat your lord. Everyone has seen."

    "When?" I interrogated in lowest voice I could.

    "It was the time when you had seen your wife getting murdered. It was the time when you had seen her suffocating to death."

    "What? My wife was murdered? She died in her bed by respiratory problem! She wasn¡¯t murdered!"

    "This is why I didn¡¯t kill you. You don¡¯t remember when and what you''d seen."

    "Who killed her?" Tarot walked towards him and yelled.

    He looked at me then stared at me for a long time.

    But the Satan flew off the window, without answering me.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.27)

    I took no time to shut the window. I locked the door and then went to lobby with confusion whether to believe him or not.

    What was he talking about? Doctors had said she had died of suffocation.

    But like I had never expected, I fell asleep, and he dreamed:

    I dreamed of Stacy. She is so close to my face, but I am not looking at her. She says something, but I can''t understand. I am finding uncomfortable being too close to her face.

    Then I do something which he hadn¡¯t even imagined I could do, even in a dream. I look away from her, willingly.

    I woke up and saw the blue cat chew another big rat. I had failed to notice the cat in there. I knew what breed it was called. Russian Blue was what it was called. Some people obsessed with cats buy such cats. Reckon, one ran away from the owner. I could see some other cats  outside the house but only that one had somehow had managed to get in. I wasn¡¯t minding it. In fact, I wanted all of them to get inside and end the reign of rats. Two or three of those cats ran inside as soon as I opened the door. And none of them looked like stray cats. Those were fancy cats.

    The blue cat which was there since last day raged at the others. I closed the door and went back to make my bed. The Russian Blue jumped on my bed with no warning.

    "I don¡¯t want your dirty claws on my blanket ¨C" I paused.

    "My Lord." I said and lifted the cat to see something I had never thought I would behold. The big tom cat was heavy,, and it didn¡¯t mind being lifted by a human. I looked at the cat''s spine and couldn¡¯t stop myself from watching its elegant blue color.

    I then caught its blue strap around neck. I reckoned the cat could have been owned by a crazy owner obsessed with pets'' makeover. I had seen many cats and dogs go through make over. It didn¡¯t change the fact of them being animals. Now near its blue fur had patches of rat blood.

    I put it down and let it do whatever it wanted to do.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.28)

    Joey Tarot felt like he was lying on a very soft surface. Last time he could remember, there was a hard road beneath his back.  The same was the case with back of his head.

    Now it was replaced by a pillow and the smell of moisture was replaced by the smell of antiseptics. He tore open his eyes with force to see himself on a gurney. He was in a medical facility and he didn¡¯t know how he got to there. He had got unconscious right after he was shot on his waist.

    Joey remembered who had left him vulnerable there. The mercenary from Idaho Passersby. He couldn¡¯t feel the bullet inside his waist anymore. It was a thing to be glad about, but he didn¡¯t know who had paid the hospital for removing his bullet.

    He pulled out his hand, looked at injection''s tiny wound and put his hand on waist. It was covered by bandages and there was a huge bump of dressing where he had been shot.

    He touched his waist because he could feel no bullet in there.

    He couldn¡¯t feel the bullet; not even bandages wrapped around it due to courtesy to anesthetics.

    His smile vanished when he realized he couldn¡¯t even feel his legs. He waited for another minute for anesthesia''s effect to get mild in order to move himself in a better and comfortable position. He already was awake, and he had heard that when anesthesia gets mild, then person wakes up. After waking up it was going to take no time in being quiet normal.

    But he couldn¡¯t feel anything below his waist. Joey forced his upper body up and tried to pull his leg but the leg felt like it was no more part of his body which was movable. He was manhandling it until the limb dropped out of bed and he didn¡¯t even realize when he had dropped it.

    The limb hung on his waist and on the bed''s edge like a pendulum. His lower body was paralyzed.

    Joey was shocked in horror. Now he had no interest in finding how he was in hospital. He wanted to scream, but his throat felt uncomfortable. His mouth was dry, and he was desperate to drink some water.

    It was only a matter of time when a nurse came in and helped him get back on his bed. She made him drink water. After he felt like he had drunk enough water, he gasped, "Am I crippled?"

    She didn¡¯t want to answer it, so she answered him with a nod. Joey''s eyes widened in horror.

    "Who put me in here?" he said in a terrified voice.

    "Your brother found you somewhere, shot." She said and got ready to go. Joey seized her arm and asked again, "When did he take me here?"

    "Two nights ago."

    Then she went out of the room. I don¡¯t have any brother. Tarot said to himself.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.29)

    Half an hour later, when Joey was still mourning over his legs, someone who wore medical mask entered inside the room with paramedics. Paramedics left while the person approached near him. He watched doctors leave and when they were gone, he removed his surgical mask.

    He was pleased at some extent to see the same mercenary''s face underneath the mask. Joey had no idea how he should react to him.

    "You must be wondering who your non existing brother is." He said to Tarot.

    "Not anymore."

    "This place isn¡¯t as expensive as you think. I didn¡¯t spend my money anyway." He said and removed blanked to find Joey naked all below his waist. Then he put the blanket back on his body, "Cops were the one to arrive there before ambulance. I had expected ambulance to come first but it was cop van which did."

    "Is all of my money gone?"

    "And your legs as well." Killer said, "I spent your money on your treatment."

    "You should have given me coup de grace there." Joey looked around.

    "You were begging me for help. I didn¡¯t find my bullets anything helpful there. Instead, a local phone booth and some spare coins of mine were ¨C"

    "Does anyone know about the blast in the bitch''s house?" Joey cut him off.

    "A mishap, they think."

    "Cops? What about them?"

    "Firefighter arrived there before cops, put the fire out and washed possible evidences away. I don¡¯t even think we had left any evidence there. If there were, anyhow, then they are no more. Woman and child died in a tragic accident and it''s nothing more than it." He explained.

    "Is my presence here doubtful?" Joey was curious.

    "I guess not. You were shot thirty miles away from the burning house, not two miles. I suppose, it makes you a different case." He reached towards water jug, "You need some?"

    "I''m okay¡­" Joey looked at his feet, "Not so okay¡­"

    "You feared cops would recognize you. How did you get here so clean?"

    "Because I had almost forgotten hospitals are filled with doctors and patients, not the cops. And his is the second time I''ve come to this place, since you were admitted. And this is going to be my last time here. I paid them at my first arrival. I wasn¡¯t even intending to visit you right now, but I didn¡¯t want you to keep you making think your whole life who the fuck your brother is." He laughed in low volume.

    "Is it what you returned for?" Joey was curious.

    "You were shot. This means there will be interrogation about who you are and how you were shot. Who brought you here? How was the night? How was the shooters'' face, how were their ball sacks, etc? And you don¡¯t have answers for those questions, do you?"

    Joey listened to him and said nothing.

    "So a cripple is left to sink in quick sand?" he asked.

    "It''s your job to come up with answers. I came up with warnings."

    "What about my fictitious brother?" Joey asked.

    "It can also be said, ''Friend is like my brother.''"

    "Is this what I will say to the cops?"

    "You will say this because I am not coming here next time." He snapped at the cripple, "I will not be surprised by an ounce if cops come here within an hour. You can say a ¨C a very generous man came to you, called an ambulance, paid for you, sympathized you, wished you good luck and left."

    "What if they link my presence in this place with my wife''s case?"

    "You''re forgetting one thing. We are very far from there. Cops investigating there are different, and cops who will interrogate will be also different. Now, do whatever, I am going hell out of here. I don¡¯t want you to say I was the generous man. If I''m caught, I''ll open up all about what you did."

    "Stop there!"

    "What?" he turned back to listen what he had to say now, "Will you do me another favor?"

    "If you still have got something to pay me with."

    Joey told him what he needed to do.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.30)

    Rick, Rick! Oh my Rick. I was smiling in my sleep and was enjoying the dream of my deceased wife. She seizes my cloth and pulls me towards her with a shy smile. She pulls my shirt and tears it open in a sudden. I know what she wanted. But she wasn¡¯t looking strong enough to tear my shirt. I watch her do it in her own way. "OUCH!" her fingernails bruise my chest. Then as the shirt is torn more down, then the long nails cut my skin on abdomen. "Easy, easy." I say, but she doesn''t stop. I scream loud when I feel pain unbearable.

    I opened my eyes to find an orange cat had torn my shirt and my chest had cuts of cat''s claws. I squinted down and saw two cats wandering there. I did not understand how those cats had come. Now my house had three fancy cats. One was on my chest, the blue one was walking, and the one resembling to Garfield was on my table. I looked at the clock and saw the hour hand touch 10.

    I shoved it hard, but it landed on floor. I looked down at the blue cat, which ran out of the door. Sure it didn¡¯t want to get hurt. I then went towards bathroom and bathed with antiseptic soap.

    There were very few rats to be seen, but too much blood of rats was all around. Pieces of tails, heads and intestines were making the house look and smell horrible. But I had expected it since the moment many cats had come inside the house. I even had seen another white cat on the way to there.

    When I changed then went outside. Weather was clear, but some people were running and looked demented. I watched some women run in the street with tears in eyes and some men panicked. In a few minutes I got wind of ambulance and police siren. Soon I caught views of it.

    "What''s all this for?" I shouted at a teenager who was walking on the street in a hurry.

    "I''m going to check it." He said and walked quick.

    "Where?"

    "Markeenz. Something terrible has happened at there."

    I locked the door and rushed towards the lake. With each day, my walking speed looked to be increasing. I felt like an infant who had walked to run. I never had known how it felt being able to walk as a child, but as an old man it felt very special.

    When I was near the river then I saw hundreds of people gather at the crater. There were cops, ambulances, and terrified people down. The number of visitors in there was increasing every second.

    I wasted no time and walked inside the intact crowd to see what had happened. I struggled to make my way in the crowd, but I somehow reached to the place from where I could have a clear view.

    I almost vomited and felt like my head and his knees had been hammered. Within a second, my facial expression resembled to the others ¨C who had the mutual feeling of terror.

    Over fifty dead children were floating in the shallow lake. The kids who were alive yesterday were now dead in the lake. Some of those who hadn¡¯t entered the lake had died on the shore.

    "- children have been reported to have died in their beds overnight!" I heard a fragment of people''s conversation.

    I put my hand on the head. What did I do? Satan didn¡¯t know which child had the letter because he couldn¡¯t see faces of children. So he had killed all the children in Anderson Island.

    Children had died in the lake, they had died in houses and anywhere they could be. After watching the horrible scene for more than five minutes I got to hear that even the pregnant women had had a miscarriage.  It took me long to know another thing. Every child below ten had died.

    "Clear up this scene! Please! Clear up this place." Cops spoke on megaphone.

    I couldn¡¯t watch it anymore. Throughout my life I had been numb to violence, but I couldn¡¯t stop myself from shedding tears and breaking down now. Satan had killed them, and I was the only one reason for it.

    I squeezed my way out of the crowd with a heavy heart and guilt within me.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.31)

    "FBI is coming here." Olliston said to Warner after he was done with the phone conversation, "Such a gruesomechildrenmurder this is." He looked at the river full of bodies.

    "Every single child in this place is said to have died." Warner said to him.

    There was no chance Olliston could ignore wailing of people all around there. Frustrated andgrieved,people could sometimes become hard to handle.

    "When will they come?" Warner asked when they crossed the crime scene tape and stepped a bit in the river. They could see some other cops and medical workers trying to pull bodies out of there.

    "Is anything specific about this river? How can this much of children come here at once?"

    "Those whofeartheseaswim in here. I hardly see any spot to swimanyway. Maybe this place is a meeting place for kids."

    "Have you made the count?" Olliston asked to another cop holding a clipboard.

    "Forty-sevenin total. The count will shoot up once we visit houses."

    It scared both of them.

    "Are you scared, Olliston?" Warner asked.

    "Terrified! I am leaving this creepy place. I''ve never seen so many people die in one place." Olliston''s mouth dried.

    "Did Dormer die because of something related to this?"

    "Dormer was said to have contacted a kid. He had given a child a letter. Now every single toddler is dead!" Olliston felt nasty to see corpses float on resting river.

    "I don¡¯t want to see these things. I will vomit. And so will you." Olliston said when he remembered what number Dormer had dialed on phone before his death. 666¨CSatanic number. He was finding uncomfortable to be in there because the deaths looked natural andun-natural at the same time. Deaths werenatural,but the quantity and timing of deaths were nowhere nearbeingcalled normal. When both of them reachedup,then they found about five ambulances and some police vans arrive. The ambulances'' door opened and cameout,people carrying stretchers.

    Olliston went inside a police van and left the horrible scene behind him.

    The bodies couldn¡¯t be left in there in sucha state.

    Tarot saw some corpses being loaded in there one by one. He could bear the scene nomore,so he found it wise to get out of there. The guilty man headed for his house.

    In a matter of minute they were running out of ambulance. They needed more of them. Those ambulances were about to leaveverysoon. And everyone was quiet sure the next time they were coming with FBI.

    "Where the fuck are you taking our children?" a parent shouted after watching his son put ona stretcher.

    "Corpses. We''re taking corpses." A man from mortuary witha sharptongue spoke.

    "Where?" some other people surrounded and asked.

    "Wherever FBI tells us to." He answered, "Carry this and put inan ambulance. We still can put more ten¨C"

    "Where are you taking them?" another person snarled out of nowhere.

    "Autopsy. Don¡¯t let grief have your temper¨C"

    "Someone had our children. We want them."

    "We are very sorry for your grief sir," an old doctor came to there after finding knowing his mortuary staff had messed with locals, "But the children need autopsy."

    "All of them?"

    "We are told so¨C"

    "They needburial,not autopsy!" he raged at the doctor.

    "You will get the body after autopsy¨C"

    "We will get chunks of meat and blood packed in polythene after autopsy!" his voice grew louder, "Do you want me to bury that thing presumingitsmy son? I will not even know whose piece of meat I am burying."

    "We are about tostart listingthe dead and indexing them to avoidpossiblemix ups." Paramedic was calmer than ever.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.32)

    The big man scratched his chin and looked around the place full with bodies, "Okay. You''ve got many bodies to use your knives on. Give me mine. I want him buried as a whole, not in pieces."

    "Sir, please co ¨C operate."

    "I want you to do the same thing with me. Give it back to me." And he began to pull the hand of the corpse.

    Officers backed him up straight away.

    "What''s the matter?" others whimpered after hearing his bellowing.

    The corpse was put in the van like many others that left.

    "I want my child''s body. Don¡¯t deprive them of a burial." Someone spoke loud.

    "I want the same to be done." Another person shouted.

    In a matter of seconds, the whole crowd of two hundred people lost their cool. Some people tackled paramedics and ran inside ambulances to take out the corpses.

    Within a minute there broke out an unpleasant brawl. Accidentally a cop had shot someone while intending to scare the mad crowd. After it, the people wanted not only the corpses, but cops.

    Even in the crowd there were some people who had a gun with them. The person shot a cop.

    This wasn¡¯t expected by anyone in there. The brawl turned out to be violet and bloody. By watching people shoot at them, cops used their guns and began to defend themselves. When they realized there was no way to keep things in control, they forgot their job and remembered their natural instinct. They also fired back.

    There were around two dozen of cops there and two hundreds of angry men. Even if they emptied their bullets, they weren¡¯t even going to kill one fourth of the crowd.

    There was no chance of running away as their vehicles were in no more condition to run. They had reported of the outburst but it was going to take some time for back up force to arrive. The local police force was impotent in front of the furious crowd.

    I should have gone with Olliston. The cop said as a bunch of angry parents pointed their guns at them. He tightened his grip on the trigger and pressed it till there were no bullets left in his cartridge.

    But the villagers had bullets in their chambers. One of those bullets got the officer right in his head.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.33)

    As estimated, cops had killed forty men in their defense. The rest of those cops were beaten to death in chaos. The scene started to clear after the parents had got corpses of their children.

    In case of some families; father, mother and child died on the same place.

    The twenty ambulances which held corpses were busted by the people in the street. Nobody wanted to see their children come in bags. More than anything, the wailing of people had made them insane and had terrified them. Cops had fallen victim of the wrath and fear.

    People had come out of their houses with sickles, knives and guns in order to avoid the corpses being taken away.

    I had locked myself inside my house and my face was leaned on the window through which I was watching some people come with corpses on their shoulders.

    I just had seen some police officers get shot in front of my eyes. I had no idea how much violence and gore had taken place within an hour.

    Corpses were on streets and on lawns of people. One corpse of a doctor was also on my lawn. I deduced he was doctor by a lab coat he still wore. I also had fallen in wrath of melancholy.

    My desire to safety had cost hundreds of lives. I had told Satan to stop letter from being delivered. Satan hadn¡¯t stopped it in simple way. Satan had intended to kill the child who had the letter. But since he had no power to differentiate between faces of children, he chose to kill them all.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.An hour later everything looked to be calmed down. Or no one was left to be killed. I had seen some people walk with corpses of their children by shouting, "Lord can''t be so unjust!"

    Women wept and men sobbed.

    I fell back inside the house and felt world being shattered. I imagined Satan''s smiling face. I rushed from lobby to the bedroom and unlocked the door. There was no corpse.

    There were just words on the wall:

    YOU HAD SEEN THIS TOO. YOU DID NOT REMEMBER. NOW YOU CANNOT FORGET.

    I was so broken I started to shatter everything which came in my hands. I nearly had dismantled whole room within a couple of minutes until I broke down and wept like a lunatic.

    I stomped and punted everywhere until I got tired of it and realized my guilt. One half of me tried to convince myself it wasn¡¯t entirely my fault. I blamed Dormer for the mishap for a long time but no matter how much I was blaming other, I couldn¡¯t forget my involvement in it as well.

    It was time of dusk when I got consciousness about the surrounding then I thought of walking outside the house. I did not care what I was going to see, I just wanted to get out of there. From the house where I had welcomed the force who had killed all those innocents.

    In the other hand, Satan was saying I had seen it coming. Either Satan had gone insane or I was a lunatic. If I had seen it then I would have willingly gone under custody rather than telling Satan what to do.

    "How did I expect just and loyalty from an evil?" I cursed myself. Just because I had been harmless didn¡¯t mean everyone else was going to be left safe. I should have remembered fate of Dormer.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.34)

    When I was about to unlock the door then I saw the two cats in front of it. The stubborn cats weren''t looking to leave my way. I kicked them hard and went outside the house, without locking the door.

    When I stepped on the road then saw some corpses on there. After walking few minutes, I saw very nasty view of decapitated heads.

    There were a dozen of those lifeless heads there and the bodies were nowhere to be found.

    I felt extreme thirst due to horror. I felt like kick on the gut and had to battle with urge to vomit again.

    I knew where I was going. The place which had started it all.

    Markeenz.

    "You should have let me jump from the balcony." I said to the divine kid who was no more alive. I imagined the child walk with him while I was finding dead bodies everywhere. The place looked nothing shy of an apocalyptic world. The dystopian world.

    Still there were some people running around, not one was worth to be talked with.

    "You should have let me jump. You should have let me hit the ground and get squashed." Now I began blaming the child, whom I had been thanking more than anyone else few days ago, "Not only did I kill in battlefield but also in later years of my life. Let those commit suicide who possess capacity to harm others. If you had let me die than they would have survived."

    I remembered of Dormer and his action of giving letter to a child. I could blame Dormer no more.

    I soon went near the river, saw corpses and burning police vans. I went in the shore. Sun was about to set and I couldn¡¯t forgive himself.

    I walked inside the river and submerged myself inside it. I had no intentions to kill myself but I was hoping the water would clear my sins. I hoped it will make Lord forgive my crime which I had done unintentionally.

    Then I pulled myself out of the water and walked away from the river. After walking for some time, I noticed nasty smell from his body and stickiness on my body.

    I was drenched in blood. Blood was dripping from the clothes. Neither the water of lake was red nor were corpses there anymore. But still I came out with blood from clean water.

    It was dark already so I found no problem to walk back to my residence in such situation. When I entered inside my house then he saw the freaking Russian Blue run towards me. It came running towards me and began to lick blood on my feet.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.It gripped my leg like a human gripped a tree and began to lick blood like ice ¨C cream.

    I pushed the filthy creature away, took off shoes and bathed. After bathing I changed clothes and wrapped the bloodied clothes to dump it. When I was about to get out of the house to throw clothes in trash then I saw the same cat licking his bloodied shoes. This time it had called its other friends. Even the Garfield (the laziest cat I had ever seen) was there.

    I threw the shoes as well. Now I no longer wanted to sleep in lobby. I went back to the bedroom which no more stunk. I lied on bed with numbness within me. Then I realized even in my own beloved bedroom, I didn¡¯t want to sleep.

    I stared at the ceiling for a couple of hours until my eyes could no longer resist being opened. I slept.

    He saw his wife hugging him. He couldn¡¯t see himself in this dream too. Her face was very close to his face but still Tarot didn¡¯t look back in his eyes. He wanted to speak but no words came out of his mouth.

    "Hey, why don¡¯t you talk to me?" he shouted loudest he could.

    "Look, he''s angry!" his wife''s sister came there and began to touch his head too.

    "Stop doing it, bitch!" he shouted and only allowed his wife to touch him.

    "He seems to have grown interest on you." His wife''s sister said and they laughed.

    Tarot stretched his hand and touched her face. She liked it and looked at her sister. Tarot couldn¡¯t hold his love for her anymore so he pulled her cheek.

    "Ouch!" she said and Tarot felt like he was dropped down.

    Blood came from her cheek, "You nasty creature. Oh!" she screamed.

    "I did not mean to!" Tarot screamed.

    "Don¡¯t pick him up now." Sister said.

    "You slut, how dare you to say so?" he again bellowed.

    But Tarot saw them leave¡­

    Tarot ran after them but didn¡¯t get them.

    He saw a man run after him with a stick in his hand, "Come here, you bastard!" He presumed he got hit on the back.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.35)

    I woke up when light hit my face. I had forgotten to close the curtain. If it wasn¡¯t for the dazzling light then I could have seen rest of the dream.

    Who the fuck cared? It was just a stupid dream.

    Then I walked out of the bed. I heard the silly cat mewing with other of them. Now I wanted no more cats inside accompanying me. I chased them but I wasn¡¯t fast enough to catch anyone of them. The orange one and the other one resembling to Garfield (as expected) were not very fast but they climbed where I had no chance to get in.

    For a while I had forgotten there were more significant things to think of than some fancy looking cats. Cats were going to leave anyways because no more rats were in there.

    I dressed up and ran for the church. I spent most of the day in there by asking for forgiveness. I didn¡¯t know if I had gone to a right place or wrong place for it.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.But one thing was for sure. I had gone to the place which I felt was a right place.

    _

    Returning from there took a long time. I was surprised to see presence of few people there. We had shared some words there about the massacre. And none of them had come to conclusion about whom to blame. Still I was unsure if I had triggered this nasty manslaughter or it was Dormer. Dormer could have done what Satan said and all this could have been an entirely different situation.

    It was five in the evening when I realized I had home be in. I had stayed my house for an hour when the doorbell rang. I was still in the lobby, which was almost my bedroom from now, so it took me not much time to open the door and check who the visitor was.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.36)

    The person outside was David Clintwood. He was the son of Larry Clintwood, whom he had known since I had come to Anderson Island. I had seen David since he was seven. But now the kid had grown up to be thirty seven.

    "Ah, Dave!" I was quiet amused to see him, "Had been quiet a long time since I had seen you last time."

    Clintwood looked at his legs and asked, "Where are your crutches?"

    "Medicines worked for me." I lied. But it didn¡¯t matter because no one was going to know what had happened. On the other hand, who was going to notice someone''s crutches when whole place had gone through massive bloodshed?

    "Can I come in, Mr. Tarot?" he asked after a long stare. Clintwood had son of ten. Perhaps he had lost him. Kids below eleven had died all, as I had heard.

    "Yes, yes. Apologies for my rudeness. I forgot to welcome you in. Please." I welcomed him in and asked him to take a seat.

    Clintwood collapsed on the settee with palm wrapped around his face. I felt awkward. It would be silly to ask what had happened. And it would be rude not to do something for him. But staying silent was nothing more than best way to increase awkwardness.

    "My son," Clintwood sobbed.

    "I am sorry to hear it." I didn¡¯t know if he should be saying it or not.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!Clintwood removed his hands and looked up at me with red face and wet bloodshot eyes.

    "Calm down son, let me bring some drinks for you." I said and then walked towards the kitchen as fast as I could. It was what I could do for sure. I knew I still had some leftover drinks in the refrigerator.

    I opened the fridge and caught two bottles of beer. Any drink was going to do job for a mourning father.

    I closed fridge and walked out with drinks clutched in one hand and glasses in the other. Then I closed kitchen door by foot since I had no longer trouble in using them.

    There I saw Clintwood still sitting on the couch but this time he held a paper in his hand. He looked to be reading it for some reason.

    I came near to him and put the drinks on the table. Then began to fill the glasses from drink.

    "I am not here to drink." Clintwood stopped me, "I can do this anytime. I will do it all the time from now."

    "House of mine ain''t a bad place to start your agenda." I said and filled the second glass.

    Suddenly Clintwood overturned the table and I almost fell. I was stumbling when the strong man swung a sickle down at me. I somehow got up and escaped again from the second swing of my own sickle ¨C which he had hung in the lobby for many years.

    "What are you doing?" I screamed.

    "I am going to kill you, can''t you understand you fucking hag?" he grinned.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.37)

    Then he almost cut me. Sickle went whistling to my ear. Clintwood was surprised to see an old man get so agile in a sudden.

    "Stop this madness! Killing an old man for no reason isn¡¯t a wise thing to be done." I said and ducked again from another blow and got farther from him.

    "You see this paper?" Clintwood bellowed at me by pointing at the paper which was now wet by beer, "It is the letter Dormer had written! I''ve read it all. It is the reason my son and many other people died!"

    Then Clintwood launched the beer bottle in order to bust open my head. But it broke on the wall.

    The noise scared away fancy cats.

    Without any warning, he threw a vase at me and, unlike last time, it connected on my chest. I couldn¡¯t breathe due to impact on ribs and lurched in pain. I breathed like I was choking. Old man has strong legs but same fragile old body.

    Clintwood ran to me and punched me hard. His knuckles shattered three of my teeth in a single blow. The next jab shattered my nostril.

    "I am going to kill you for this." Clintwood became insane, "You heard me right, I am going to kill you right here!"

    "It wasn¡¯t my fault." I spit out a tooth.

    "My son had been telling me that someone had told him to deliver the letter to cops in case someone died. I didn¡¯t believe him but he was talking of Dormer. I should have believed him and read the letter!"

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.Then he punched me again. This time I felt like my jaw had been locked. Clintwood stomped on my stomach multiple times. He wasn¡¯t thinking to give me an easy death.

    "I should have believed him and snatched the letter. I don¡¯t know how you killed him but you somehow did."

    "Satan killed him, it was not me." I spat out blood.

    "But you are also a cause of this mayhem. Dormer''s is dead and Satan, if exists, is intangible. Now tell me, whom should I kill?" He strangled my throat. Then he left me and began to search the sickle which he had dropped somewhere.

    He got it before I could even realize my neck was free. I still was on my chest.

    Then Clintwood pulled my head by remains of cotton like hair and put the sickle''s sharp edge on my neck. It was the perfect position for beheading.

    "Drop the sickle, you maniac!" There came a hard sound from the door.

    Clintwood looked back and discovered someone standing with a gun pointed at them.

    The man on door pulled the trigger and the bullet hit on Clintwood''s head. The angry father seeking redemption fell dead on my back.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.38)

    Whoever the shooter was, I was grateful to him.

    The man came towards me and asked, "Don¡¯t tell me this man is Rick Tarot." He pointed at David, "The person whom I am supposed to take care of is in his early seventies, stays in this house and ¨C"

    I caught my nose and tried to get up, "And now he is injured as well."

    I looked up at the man and asked, "Who are you? And how do you know me?" I never had seen him before.

    "Ueleblacker. Your son sent me here to see if you all right or not." Ueleblacker turned the corpse and said, "I guess I came in right time."

    "The best time you could arrive in." Toothless Tarot smirked, "Where is Joey?"

    "He had an accident." He gave me unpleasant news.

    "What? ¨C"

    "Don¡¯t worry old man, he''ll live. You''ve got some broken bones but you''ll live too."

    "Where''s Joey? I thought he had abandoned me!"

    "He changed his mind! In fact," Ueleblacker knelt near me to get on my level, "abandoning you was his compulsion, not the will. Now be sure he will come here. Just you should wonder how the hell he is coming here ¨C"

    "What happened to him?" I interrupted him.

    "He will live! He was the one who had sent me here to look after you. He has made a brutal mercenary become a butler for an old man."

    "Mercenary?!" I was surprised, "Where are his wife and son?"

    "Ask when Joey comes ¨C"

    "Are they alive? Did they die like people died here? Children died here in a sudden ¨C"

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road."I know. I had heard it yesterday in news. Joey has no idea about this but sooner or later he''ll get to know. Call your son, he''s worried about you." Ueleblacker said.

    "What about his wife and my grandson?"

    Ueleblacker remembered what Joey and he had discussed about story of their disappearance, "She eloped and ran away with your grandson. I don¡¯t know where they have gone¡­"

    "He chose you over them. He chose father over a woman and an offspring!" he didn¡¯t know if he was telling what was discussed or not. But it seemed to be working, "First he was choosing them but later he chose you. He will come here after he is well."

    I stared at him with no expression. Could I believe him?

    "Do you have first aid box in this cat ¨C house" he looked at some cats, "or not?"

    "That door, it''s in there." I pointed at the kitchen.

    "You should go to hospital, I reckon ¨C"

    "Few broken teeth aren''t something worth to visit a doctor for." I said.

    Ueleblacker nod and went inside kitchen and came out with first aid box.

    "But my grandson ¨C"

    I had killed that adopted grandson by my own hanhands. Now I am dressing his grandfather¡­."The next time you mention them will be the last moment of mine in this place. Do you get me?"

    I nodded and it was no surprise of him.

    Ueleblacker continued after looking at the corpse, "Tons of corpses are in this place so we don¡¯t need cover up for this body. I will dump it on the street and you will scrub this place whether you can or not."

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.39)

    I had some pain killer tablets, prepared dinner and rested when Ueleblacker came after dumping the corpse in the night.

    "You must remember one thing. I am not your butler and am not here to serve you." He spoke with no respect, "I still am a hired gun and you know what I am meant to do."

    We dined and Ueleblacker asked where his room was.

    "Go upstairs and sleep wherever you want." I made it easier for both of us. How could my son send a mercenary? How the hell did he get himself injured?

    Ueleblacker stared at me from the base of stairs and walked up. I lied on couch and closed my eyes after watching cats play.

    "Oh dear, you''re hurt." His wife was panicking. Bruises were on her cheek but they were healed already. Still her face was too close with her like they were about to kiss.

    "Daddy''s so cruel. Speak to me please¡­" she sobbed.

    "Speak to me!" she yelled.

    "Stacy, how are you doing?" he smirked.

    "Aww¡­you''re fine. It¡¯s all I wanted to hear from you. Let''s have some talk¡­"

    "I had been waiting for four decades to talk with you." Rick said and she giggled.

    "I will take you wherever I go!" she was excited.

    Rick was more excited than her, "I will go wherever you say."

    "STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" a harsh cry of a huge man came. The man was his father in law. The man held a knife in his hand and was running towards Rick. "I WILL KILL THIS THING RIGHT HERE! I WILL CHOP HIS HEAD OFF!"

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it."Please daddy! No!" she screamed as hell.

    I was woken up by noise of a water jug crashing the floor. The white cat leaped from the table and ran somewhere. I had forgotten to turn off the lights but it didn¡¯t matter because it already was four in the morning. I was used to wake up at this time.

    But what caught my attention more than the fallen jug was the door which was unlocked. I had locked it last night before I had gone to sleep. Someone else was in there? But I knew the person who could deal with the intruder. And he was sleeping somewhere upstairs.

    I went upstairs and saw open doors of every room in the passage. Last night Ueleblacker seemed to have had hard time in deciding where to sleep.

    I went the room where I kept papers and other important stuffs. There I saw everything messed up, tables overturned and, crucially, cupboard wide open.

    It was the place where I had put all of my cash. I rushed there to find all money gone from there. There used to be almost six thousand dollars in there, which I had withdrawn from bank a month ago. Even though I still had more ten thousand in the bank account, six grand was still a lot of money to be stolen.

    I was frustrated and kicked everywhere in anger.

    "Ueleblacker! Ueleblacker! Someone has robbed me!" I bellowed and went door to door.

    "Someone has stolen all the money, wake up!" I screamed but there came no answer.

    Soon I realized the thief was none other than Ueleblacker himself. And the open door was proof he was long gone by now.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.40)

    Later in the morning, I found the church door open and there were some fathers and nuns in there. I knew each and every one of them but didn¡¯t speak to anyone.

    They also didn¡¯t seem to be interested in talking to me.

    "What killed them?" an old nun asked to a younger one.

    "Talking of men I would say guns but I don¡¯t have any answer if you are asking about children." She answered unaware from fact of me knowing the answer.

    I stayed in there for a long time. I stayed there until every single person from there was gone. Then looked at the mosaics which I loved the most and found creepy at the same time. I witnessed my discomfort with mosaics in the very moment.

    There were no arts in mosaics. Glass had turned red as blood and the church smelled like rotten and burnt flesh. I looked at where the mosaics used to be and saw naked nymphs with blood dripping down after perishing of their virginity. They were raped by Satan and they wept. In the other side there were some naked nymphs who were floating in the air and one Satan was suspending by her hair. She was in pain but another Satan slit her throat and began to drink blood from there. I could not overlook her feet lurch in pain.

    Feminine screams surrounded the place when a Satan pulled another nymph, stripped her, raped her and began to drink blood by poking them from tridents. All faced the similar fate in there.

    I stumbled and fell back in terror. I couldn¡¯t keep his eyes off what I was seeing. I saw another nymph being hanged and a Satan make a cut on her feet. Satan began drinking blood from her feet when she was still alive. The children were thrown inside cauldron filled with boiling oil and were cooked by Satan holding trident. Children screamed in agony as mammoth blisters covered all their body.

    Stolen novel; please report."We are starving." Another one of them said after it was done with draining blood out of a nymph.

    Many female heads dropped down from there. One also fell in front of me. I didn¡¯t want to see such beautiful virgins get raped and killed. But I could neither walk nor could close my eyes for some reason.

    I saw the same terrifying Satan which pointed at me, "This man hasn¡¯t seen this. Let him see. Others have seen this. But not this human. Let him see and let him remember what he is watching."

    Others broke into laughter.

    But the thing which shocked me most was the man on the cross who was being flayed. And one Satan was chewing his thighs while other was drinking blood from his slit throat.

    "AAARRRGGGHHH!!!" I screamed and closed my eyes in horror after watching the happening. I was watching heaven and I wasn¡¯t dead yet.

    Blood then fell on my face.

    I closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could. Then I forced my eyes open. I saw the old nuns and fathers arrive from the door.

    I was drenched in sweat. I was in no condition to speak and was gasping. Looked around the mosaic, cross and whole place. Everything was fine. No one was getting raped, no one was being cooked, no one was being flayed and no one was being killed.

    "What happened, Tarot?" a father almost of my age asked.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.41)

    "What happened, Tarot?" a father almost of my age asked.

    "Satan was here." I said.

    "What?" they shared looks in confusion.

    "I gave him place to eat." I gasped. I confessed, "He is eating them all. They are eating them all in heaven and he let me see it happen."

    "What are you saying? Have you gone insane, old man?" a young priest raised his volume.

    "He is eating them. I saw them drink blood. I know what they can be fed on."

    "Who?"

    "Satan!" I snarled, "He is here. He is here!"

    "Take this mad man out of here before he says something more stupid than this." An old father commanded a young priest in ear.

    "What else stupid thing can he say more than this? This man has lost his mind." A woman told him, "Luke, take him out of here. And take it easy."

    The young priest seized my arm and took me - laughing stock old man out of there.

    Luke took me out of the church gate.

    And when he returned then he saw nuns and priest say, "That man couldn¡¯t even walk properly. He always needed crutches. How can he walk now?"

    "Talk to me, Rick! Why don¡¯t you talk to me?" Stacy was shouting at him.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.Tarot wanted to speak but he could not. No matter how much he tried to breath out words, he was just finding him lips in motion with no sound.

    She slapped him and seized his head, "Talk to me! Talk to me!"

    But no words came out of his mouth¡­

    The phone rang in four in the morning. I was woken up by the noise. I was now quiet annoyed of those four cats in there. How did they come inside my room? Now I had left sleeping in lobby and was upstairs. I couldn¡¯t think of sleeping in the same room where Satan had eaten the divine toddler. But the phone was still in there.

    I stepped out of his bed and went towards the room. Then I pushed the door open and pulled the receiver.

    I cleared my throat before speaking anything.

    "Hello, father! Is it you?" the voice came. Joey had finally called me!

    I was delighted but I coughed at first.

    "Are you there, father?"

    I cleared my throat again. Then I realized it was the only one thing coming out of my mouth as sound.

    I attempted to speak but it was random gasps what came out.

    "ARE YOU OKAY THERE?"

    I could not speak.

    "HELLO! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT THERE?"

    I nodded but despite of knowing my nodding wasn¡¯t going to be heard or seen.

    I tried to speak for another minute but heard Joey panicking. Then something happened that I didn¡¯t want to happen.

    The call was hung up.

    Did he think I am also dead?

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.42)

    But still there were chances of Joey coming here. Ueleblacker had said so. Ueleblacker had said that Joey hadn¡¯t abandoned me but had not even mentioned when he was coming.

    Perhaps he had called to ask me if Ueleblacker is taking care of me or not. But I was already a mute just like Dormer.

    It meant that the phone in my house was of no use for me.

    I didn¡¯t mourn very much for my voice because I knew I was the one responsible for it. If I hadn¡¯t spoken about Satan in church then I would have voice still left in me. I didn¡¯t want to talk all the time. I just wanted to talk with Joey to tell him everything was okay with me. I wanted to ask him when he was coming.

    But Satan had taken my tongue. I didn¡¯t know when¡­

    I was glad I wasn¡¯t turned blind because Satan had shown me vision of what was happening in paradise, by mosaic. I was also glad I wasn¡¯t killed for having said everything I had seen in the mosaic. Even though I was mute, deprived of family and responsible for the massacre, I still didn¡¯t want to die. It wasn¡¯t long ago when I had told Hansen I was not scared of death.

    I looked at Stacy''s photo with words written on it ¨C GIFT IS ON THE WAY.

    "Mew."

    "Mew."

    "Mewww."

    Those cats came running towards me and stopped in front of me. The orange one wanted itself lifted, white wanted to hang around me, the one which looked like Garfield was rolling on the floor for some reason and the Russian Blue ¨C wearing blue strap was licking me as always.

    GIFT IS ON THE WAY¡­

    I looked down at those.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.Were they the gifts Satan has given me? Silly cats? Orange cat also began to lick my other foot while the Russian Blue looked up at me and began mewing. Those little adorable creatures were gift from Satan to me?

    I want no part of his gift. I told myself and wanted to shout it out loud but I was mute. On the other hand, what had those cats proven to be worth a gift? They had killed the rats, of course, but it was something I also could have done without anything barring me.

    Or the gift meant something else? Did the gift mean my son? It could be possible that they had come to me by coincidence. I could not decide what the matter was. I realized something. Ever since Satan''s arrival, one thing I had noticed (apart from anything else) was that I was dreaming frequently of my wife. I also was hearing her voice.

    I remembered the dream I had seen in night. I had dreamed of Stacy yelling at me to talk with her. Even in the dream I wasn¡¯t unable to speak. It meant I wasn¡¯t going to hear my voice, even in my dream.

    Were the dreams the gift? It did not matter to me. She was dead and now I was mute.

    I wanted nothing which had anything things to do with the Satan. I wanted to clear my doubt about the cats. Especially the orange one. I went down to the kitchen from the room.

    Then I came up with a bottle of milk and a big bowl in the other hand. Cats were still in there in the same way. I thought to ring the bowl like a bell to get attention of the cats. I didn¡¯t even need to ring it because those cats were already delighted to see me.

    I put the bowl on floor and poured milk in it.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.43)

    One hour later, when I returned to that room then saw three of those cats already dead. The rat poison which I had bought didn¡¯t get useless. I used it on the cats.

    White had died on bed, orange one lay dead near the bowl, fat cat had blood coming out of its mouth and lay on the table while the Russian Blue was still moving. The Russian Blue looked up as I came and leaped towards me and began to lick me as nothing had happened.

    I reckoned the cat wasn¡¯t allowed to drink milk by other three. Three of those had died while the hungry one had survived. It did as it always had done, it began licking him. But the orange creepy cat was dead and it gave me some relief.

    I knelt and caught the cat. I began to stroke its fur by thinking how I could kill it. I had run out of poison and throwing it out of window was nothing but foolishness.

    I carried the Russian Blue and went inside the room where rats had been seen first. I took out the empty trunk, where I used to put war magazines and opened its lid.

    I was thinking of a horrific way of death for the cat. I felt its fur on my fingers for a while and looked at the thick blue strap around its neck. The strap looked like a belt and it looked to be expensive. While it kept licking me, I untied the strap and saw the bare fur of its neck.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.The neck looked bizarre for me at first. It looked like the cat''s throat had been slit and was fixed back again. I ran my finger on the wound and became sure it wasn¡¯t makeover or rat''s dried blood but was real mark of sliced neck.

    Who could do it to a cat? I didn¡¯t know and didn¡¯t care but I knew very well who had revived it even after being throat slit open.

    Satan.

    The cat had been dead but now it was brought back to life. And it was awarded as a gift for me by Satan for some reason. Why would he give me this cat?

    I had a place to keep my gift. And it lay open in front of me.

    I put the cat in trunk and locked it in there so that it would suffocate to death.

    And I was going to make sure the cat was dead this time.

    Seconds after locking it in there, I heard it mew and scratch the lid in fear. I wanted Satan to be in that place but its gift wasn¡¯t a bad idea either.

    Cat began to suffocate¡­

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.44)

    40 years ago,

    Stacy was worried because the wound of her cheek caused by the cat had started infecting. She had taken anti ¨C biotic medicines in hope to get rid of it.

    "You shouldn¡¯t have held the cat. And why the hell you wanted it to speak with you? It is a dumb animal, you know it." Amanda ¨C her sister screamed at her when she pulled out the bandage from her cheek. Wound was healing fast since few days, "Now you better believe this - dumb animals are also dangerous."

    Amanda brought her some more medicines, pulled out an antibiotic and said, "You will have to take this."

    "No, I don¡¯t want this. I am not swallowing this!" she screamed.

    Both sisters laughed because Stacy had accidentally made a bad sexual joke. They laughed till her wounded cheek hurt again.

    "Don¡¯t laugh again or you''ll end up making cut in the wound, again. Do you want Rick to come and see you with this scar on your face?" Amanda said as she tore the tablet out of the file.

    "I am serious. I don¡¯t want to gulp this. This is so big tablet!" Stacy told her again.

    She handed Stacy the tablet and she also made a glass of water for her sister. Stacy clutched the tablet by her fingers and kept staring at it.

    "What now? This is a tablet, not a lizard ¨C" Amanda mocked her.

    "I know what this is! You don¡¯t have to remind me of it." She snapped and looked to begin sobbing any time from now.

    "You shouldn¡¯t be so emotional about a cat, all right." Amanda patted her.

    "But father had sworn not to kill it!" she sobbed, "He chopped its head. How merciless he can be? Just because my pet scratched me doesn¡¯t mean it should be killed!"

    "You are being too much of animal lover now. Look, it gave you infection; you''re lying on this bed due to fever just due to cat''s scratch. The violent cat could have done this to anyone ¨C"

    "He wasn¡¯t violent. It is me who has got fragile immune system! Father is a lunatic. He still doesn¡¯t think I am not a girl anymore. He has got no right to kill my pet."

    "He loves to you. This is why he did it ¨C"

    "Couldn¡¯t he find any other way to show love?" Stacy snapped and didn¡¯t care if she was being loud. In fact, she wanted her father to listen all of it.

    Amanda said nothing for a while but she broke silence, "You are also dumb. You wanted it to speak. Now tell me, what do you want an animal to tell you?"

    She wept and didn¡¯t step for a while.

    "You''d better gulp it!"

    But she didn¡¯t stop crying for a long time.

    "You are too childish to believe what I am going to say." She sobbed again.

    Amanda stood silent by demanding explanation.

    "I had a dream of Rick. I had multiple dreams of Rick."

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon."He will come out of the war. It is normal to dream of someone you love ¨C"

    "I saw old Rick in my dream. I was eating something under table when Rick and someone else removed the table cloth then looked at me with amusement. I wanted to speak but I could not speak. I saw I was there with many of my friends. There were three of my friends. One friend had yellow skin, one was white as snow and another one was fat. We had eaten a lot of things a lot of time in Rick''s house. We talked all the time."

    "You saw this in a single night?" she was curious.

    "It saw this dream for many nights. Rick used to come and I used to see him. I wanted to shout and yell his name but I was unable to speak anything."

    "Bizzare. Dreams are dreams, aren¡¯t they?"

    "I saw Rick old. I saw I was kissing his foot for some reason. I don¡¯t know why¡­"

    "Foot, gross!"

    "And when I was holding the cat, in reality, then I told the cat to speak. You will not believe but I heard Rick''s voice come out from the Russian Blue¡¯s mouth. For some reason it wanted to touch me but gave me a scratch instead."

    "You need to eat this and sleep ¨C"

    "I am not lying." She cut him off, "What I am saying is true. I was having this dream for about a week. Do you want to know what I had seen last night."

    "And what was it?"

    "All of three my friends died¡­after drinking milk given by Rick. The old Rick. He killed all of my friends."

    "And you believe this is real? Do you believe you were watching Rick, when he gets old, from eyes of someone?"

    "Eyes of the cat! And I believe Rick also had spoken to me through the source of that cat." She snapped.

    "You are wrong then Stacy, the cat is already dead. Father killed it. On the other hand, how the hell can a cat live for decades? Have the medicine."

    Stacy nodded, wiped tears from his eyes then she held the glass of water handed by Amanda.

    Amanda stepped out of the bed and turned towards the door, ready to leave. She walked few steps and heard Stacy gulp water.

    She drank the full glass of water (which was unusual). Amanda looked her as she drank all the water while she could have sipped few times.

    "Amanda!" she gasped.

    "What?" she asked with her narrowed eyes.

    Stacy clutched her throat and began to gasp and this time it looked very agonizing.

    "Help ¨C me ¨C" she said in disturbed voice. She was unable to breath.

    Amanda clutched her and punched her on back to dislodge tablet in her windpipe. But what came out were gasps.

    After she heard her struggle to breathe, she realized the condition was no more in her hands.

    "Daddy! Daddy!" she bellowed and ran outside the room.

    She came back with her father and mother in less than ten seconds.

    But Stacy had choked to death already.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.45)

    The family mourned for their loss. They knew Rick was also the one who was going to be involved in grief. They had written the letter to him but they didn¡¯t know when he was going to read the letter. Perhaps he was not even going to be able to read the letter because he was in a war.

    Even a week after sending the letter, no reply came from Rick. They didn¡¯t know what to make of it. In the other hand, they hadn¡¯t even got rid of their grief.

    In the seventh day, Amanda decided to clean up the room where Stacy had choked to death. The chamber still smelled antibiotics and some files of tablets were still on the table. She scrubbed the floor, removed some cobwebs and went to make bed.

    She folded blanket and then began to arrange pillows. When she lifted the pillow then she saw the tablet which she had told Stacy to gulp. She picked it up and had a clear look at it.

    Stacy hadn¡¯t choked on tablet. Then what did she die from?

    *

    I couldn¡¯t sleep after I had put the cat inside the box to suffocate till death. I wanted Satan''s gift to die a horrible death. For a while, I even had thought to flay it or to burn it alive.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.I went towards my wife''s photo and wiped letters written by Satan. I then began to remember when I had received the letter. I recalled how broken I had felt ever since her death.

    Of course I had married again and had only child ¨C Joey. My second wife had died when Joey was twenty and I almost had lost Joey in an accident six years ago. I was grateful I hadn¡¯t lost my son in the car accident. But I had lost my grandson in the tragedy. Very soon they had another son but there was no chance for anyone of us to forget the old ones.

    The same year I started to suffer from arthritis whereas depression caught me since Stacy¡¯s death. I remembered walking in the cemetery to offer flowers on my beloved''s grave. I had talked to my father in law and Amanda. They told me everything. I was aware of her problems of choking sometimes but tablet was not the thing I could expect her to choke on.

    I couldn¡¯t forget Amanda''s face when I was being described about her tragic death. "She choked on tablet¡­I get it. But what was the medicine for?" I had wanted answer.

    "Bacterial infection." My father in law had said, "She was scratched on cheek by a blue cat ¨C which she had adopted after you were gone from America. I killed the damn bastard the same day."

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.46)

    Russian Blue? Cat? I looked up at the photo. The memory struck me right in there. For his whole life I had been wondering about her death and now, in my seventies, I was finding dots being linked.

    Gift.

    He recalled my dream where I was very near to Stacy''s face. Not only that, I realize how frequently Stacy had come in my dreams.

    "Everyone sees. Everyone has seen." Satan''s words echoed.

    Scratch on her cheek? I remembered when I had tried to touch her in dream then blood had run down from her cheek. I remembered her father in law hit me on the back in dream.

    He had hit the cat. And the cat was me, at the moment. I was in cat''s body at the time when she got wound on her cheek. I was the Russian Blue in the time when she was so close to me.

    Satan had given me the gift, the cat, which was only source for me to make contact with my deceased wife. It had licked me multiple times.

    Was she also dreaming of me through the cat''s eyes when it had tried to come close to me? No no no! How could it happen?

    But I couldn¡¯t deny existence of such events. I had seen Satan. It would be foolishness of me not to believe in all this.

    The wound on cat''s neck¡­God Almighty! Is it the same cat Stacy''s father had killed? Satan brought it back to life and as a source of communication for future and past? I gasped.

    At that time I realized I was seeing lasts of Stacy. If I hadn¡¯t touched her then she would have been alive.

    I got up. The cat was still in the trunk and was suffocating. I searched for the key and rushed towards the trunk. I was feeling frightened while I was trying to unlock it. I even dropped the key multiple times.

    I knew what ''Everyone sees'' meant. In sleep, everyone has seen from eyes of other people or creatures. They sometimes manipulate their hosts in the process. I had done the same. I had tampered the past and now here I was.

    I put the key in and turned it but it got jammed. I got in struggle to unlock it.

    Now I had no interest in finding out on what Dormer had refused Satan on. I had forgotten everything cause by me and everything that had happened in Anderson Island. I just wanted the damn lid to open. I turned the key and opened the lid.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.The cat had died of suffocation several minutes ago.

    I picked it up and did everything I could to bring back life in it. But in few seconds, I realized neither I was Satan nor God to revive the dead.

    I put it on my lap and began to weep. This was how I had killed my wife. I had crossed the barrier for someone in vision. I was seeing from cat''s eyes so I couldn¡¯t speak. But I had touched and I had killed. I wanted to scream and mourn, "It was me who had killed my wife. It was me! It is me." But I was already mute.

    If I hadn¡¯t locked it here or if I hadn¡¯t tried to touch her than she could have survived. But I realized what Satan had said. He had said there was an entirely different reason for Stacy''s death. There was no chance for me to change the things which were inked in the past.

    Everyone sees. Everyone has seen¡­but from others eyes. I reminded myself as tears fell on its blue fur. Everyone sees from eyes of others, mostly from animals just because animals cannot talk and try to interfere. The way I had been seeing, it was impossible for me to find if I was watching a dream or it was the reality, let alone point of time.

    When the cat had died, a part of her was also in it. Perhaps she was meant to die in anyways. A natural death caused by a man who had botched in the vision of future.

    The cat was killed. Then how was I alive? It had been killed way back when I was in war. Then why didn¡¯t I die in war? I was also in the cat!

    I realized what the reason was. I had seen who the reason was.

    The Divine Kid. I wasn¡¯t meant to die in war or suicide. I was meant to be killed by Clintwood. My throat was to be slit on the same place where the cat was cut open from.

    At last, the kid wasn¡¯t sent to save me but he was there to assist me so that I could escape by myself. He was there, inked, to prevent myself from getting killed. For sure he had given me legs to run. Otherwise I would have died before Ueleblacker would have arrived and shot Clintwood.

    I put the cat back in the trunk and began to pray till the morning.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.47)

    It was ten in the morning when I walked on the balcony. I looked at Stanley Peplinski''s deserted house and saw Hansen''s empty house. I remembered Hansen''s words, "An old man fears death more than anything. In his old days, he becomes religious..."

    Since I had witnessed Satan, I had prayed to God more than I usually did.

    "¡­and he rarely believes anything which hasn¡¯t got a word God in it."

    Yes, I don¡¯t believe what hasn¡¯t His name in it.

    "The old man remembers his past days, his crimes, works of his in adulthood and his sins."

    All the morning I had been doing the same thing.

    "The old man fears that he cannot remember what good he has done for he has got a weak memory. Good things can be forgotten easier than the bad ones."

    What good have I done till now? I looked down from there.

    "He then begins to think if his sins have outnumbered good deeds."

    I climbed the barricade. This time it was very easy for me.

    I looked around and took a long breath, "You were right, Ben, I fear my sins. I fear them." I recalled the massacre.

    Now all I needed to do for repenting was to take a step in air and let gravity do the rest. I had heard, suicide is an unforgivable sin but killing a guilty accused of unforgivable crime is glory.

    I was the one who was responsible for hundreds of innocent deaths ¨C an unforgivable crime in its own. I had taken pride in killing adversaries for all my life but innocent killings had outnumbered my glory.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.I couldn¡¯t do justice to the deceased and my sins had outnumbered the glory.

    But I still had a chance of removing a guilty man ¨C myself.

    "I will not burn in hell for killing myself. I will go to purgatory for having removed an unforgivable sinner." I heard my voice in my head. I was no more desiring of heaven.

    "I have done crime and if I punish myself from my life then I will have glory¡­again." I closed my eyes for about a minute and prayed to God. I remembered the child, Satan, Russian Blue and Dormer.

    BEEP!

    The sharp sound of horn made me open my eyes. There was a car on the road and a couple of men in there were urging me not to jump.

    I won''t listen to anyone.

    "Father!" a familiar voice filled my ears.

    Joey came out of the car in a wheelchair. Father could walk but his son had been paralyzed. I believed it to be price for someone''s good. The child had given back my legs but had taken Joey''s.

    "Father, don¡¯t do what you are up to. I''m back!" he yelled at me.

    I was about to take a step ¨C

    "Please don¡¯t. We will talk and sort this out. Please don¡¯t."

    I have no reason to listen to Joey. He isn''t the godly child. I am inches away from leaping.

    I paused, thinking Joey isn''t the divine child. But he is my own child, "He may not be the divine child but he still is my child." I take a deep breath, still, with no voice coming out of my mouth.

 The Nymphs of Mosiac (Ch.48)

    Satan looked at the newly born infant sleep. Satan sat beside the little boy and began to smirk at him. Satan rose up but by mistake he dropped the trident which made a loud metallic sound. Seconds later, he heard someone''s tramps approaching towards the cabin.

    A nurse ran inside the room to see what the matter was. She discovered medical tray lying on the floor. She picked the tools up and put it back on the table. She was thinking the new born child had been awoken by the noise.

    But he wasn¡¯t. She looked inside the basket and saw the child smile in his sleep. She kept looking at him until he began to cry in his sleep. Few minutes later, the child was smiling back again in the sleep.

    She wondered what he was seeing which was making him laugh and cry in the sleep. The question had always wondered her. Was it natural reflex or something else?

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.When Satan whispered in infant''s ear, "You are seeing¡­You will see more in coming sleeps."

    Nurse watched the child abruptly wake up and begin to cry no time.

    Satan had no problem with the child being awoken because he wasn¡¯t going to grow up as another Dormer. Same Dormer who with his voice had achieved a supernatural ability to remember the visions he had seen in infant sleep. Dormer had refused Satan not to talk about them. He just had got back his tongue in the time where needed to be a mute.

    You will see but you will not remember¡­Satan smirked as nurse attempted to calm him down. Perhaps he was crying of hunger.

    She made him gulp milk but still he was crying. It looked as if the child was panicking for some reason.

    Had the nurse closely watched in the child''s eyes she would have seen Satan''s reflection standing right behind her.

    ***************