Prologue

Imagine a world, that looks like your own, but is different nonetheless.

Imagine a world, where every foothold of sanity has crumbled.

Imagine a world, where nightmares are reality and reality is but a dream.

Imagine a world, where people are indoctrinated with the wrong information.

Imagine a world, where insanity reigns as absolute master and commander.

Imagine a world, so filled with inner strife that people think it is absolute bliss.

Imagine… Imagine our world

Chapter 1: Lost Within My Mind

‘I went to bed yesterday, like any other normal night. And when I woke up, everything seemed normal. Then I left my room and problems began. I was attacked by a zombie of sorts. At first I wanted to run, but my instinct made me attack it and kill it, it fell on the floor and incinerated’ I read the note over and over again, as if it will make what happens easier to grasp, easier to understand.

I must be losing my mind, zombies don't exist and this place is not my room. I look around the familiar walls, the familiar closet, the familiar desk next to it, the familiar junk everywhere, the familiar chair, the familiar bed, the familiar cabinet next to it. Everything is so familiar, yet it seems like something's off, as if it is not my room at all, but a duplicate.

I let myself fall backwards onto the bed and rest my head on the pillow. Now if I just close my eyes, I will fall asleep again and this dream will dissipate. The dream will shatter and I'll be back in reality. I close my eyes.

The sudden sound of my cellphone ringing startles me. I stare at the ringing monstrosity on my desk. It frightens me. No one is here, I checked my parent's room, it wasn't even there. I opened the door and there was nothing, a pit of nothingness, if you can speak of such a thing. The street was the same, it was ridden with corpses, faceless beings without a name or identity, shadows of what they once might have been.

My train of thoughts stops as I realise that I have walked over to the desk and I am now standing there, looking down at the ringing cell-phone. The number displayed is 0800-999666. This must be some kind of sick joke, such a number does not exist.

Unvoluntarily my hand reaches for the phone and picks it up, my thumb pressing the answer button out of it's own accord, my arm raises itself, as if controlled by someone else and brings the cellphone close to my ear.

"Hello" I manage to stutter, after just listening for a while, fearing what is on the other side of the line.

"Hello" a voice at the other side of the line stutters in response.

"Who is this?" I yell in return, slightly aggrevated by the response.

"Who is... " the voice replies, then stops.

"I am you, you are me. Welcome to my world, or should I say your world" another voice then continues, it sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it.

"What do you mean? You're me."

"Click" the line is dead.

Baffled I take the phone and look at the display, batteries are dead.

Suddenly I realise that I am still in my PJ's and something inside me tells to get dressed. I open the closet and I am surprised at what I find, nothing of this is mine. Nothing of this is familiar.

The closet is filled with straight-jackets of sorts, most of them torn and smothered in bloodstains. I stare in amazement at the assortment of sizes and colours of the jackets, some are small enough to fit babies and some seem too large to be worn by a human. Reluctantly I take the one that seems my size and put it on, surprisingly it is neither torn, nor stained.

The straight-jacket seemed exactly my size and even the sleeves were prepared for uncommon use, there were no straps and there were holes to put your hands through. For some reason I felt I should take the cell-phone with me, which I realised when I stood at the door. Reluctantly I turned around again and walked towards the desk.

On it, on the same place I had put it down, was the cell-phone. The black monstrosity seemed to follow me around with virtual eyes, even though its batteries were dead. I slowly reach for the black thing on the desk and just as my hand touches the outline of the black plastic, it rings... again. I pull back my hand quickly.

"This is insane" I say to myself "the... the batteries were dead, I saw so with my own eyes."

Terrified I stare at the impossibly ringing monstrosity on the desk, as sweat seems to pour from me at every side.

"This isn't right, this isn't supposed to happen" I say again as I slowly shake my head, not taking my eyes of the phone.

Suddenly, the squeaking of a door opening behind me, suddenly the sound cuts through my every bone. I turn around as quick as I can, my head spinning from the tremendous force it is suddenly exposed to. In front of me, there it was, a small child. A small child dressed in a raggy, old nightgown, an old-fashioned, light-blue nightgown.

Again I shake my head: "this can't be... this is impossible. No one is here anymore, no one is supposed to be here."

The small child hides its face behind long, golden-blond hairs. Suddenly it looks up at me, the hairs fall from it's face, only to reveal that it has no face at all.

Even more cold sweat pours from my body as I stumble backwards towards the desk. Maniacally laughing the child follows. I trip over the junk on my floor and fall onto the ground. The child catches up and sits on top of my chest. Even though she is just a small child, she seems to weigh a ton and I can hardly breath with her on top of me.

Fright gets a hold of me, as it brings its face close to mine and suddenly it splits in two vertically at the bottom. What it reveals is a horrifying array of teeth and a split tongue, slithering in and out.

Instinct takes a hold of me again and I grab the thing nearest to me. Which happens to be a pen. I stab at the thing mindlessly with the pen and hit it in the neck, it screams a high-pitched scream as blood gushes out of the wound.

The blood evaporates as soon as it hits my straight-jacket, leaving just enough time to stain it. The girl seems to crackle up and falls apart, like ashes blown away by wind. The pen falls to the ground, bouncing, blood still clinging to it. I breath heavily as I erect myself on my elbows, to look at the black dust that spread throughout my room... or what should be my room.

The phone kept ringing, still. It had been ringing all this time, most likely. Whoever was on the other end of the line, wasn't about to give up. I crambled up, wiping the black ash off my straight-jacket. Then I turned around and stared at the phone, such a bother it was, such a horror it was. I stared at the black monstrosity once again, not daring to pick it up.

After a few minutes, my arm seemed to move out of its own accord towards the phone. It picked it up, pressed the answer button and held it close to my ear. Static at the other end of the line. Suddenly the static vanished and I listened again, as more sweat poured from me.

"He... hello" I stuttered after some time.

"It's me again."

"Why do you keep calling me? Where am I? What was that?"

"I keep calling you, because you want me to. You are in my world, I already told you. And that, my friend, was not a what, but a who. Do you remember young Lisa?"

"Ye.. yes" I stutter as my mind searches for the young girl and tries to seek a connection between her and the thing that attacked.

"That was her. You killed her, you're a murderer… she only wanted to play, you know" the voice said, after which it laughed.

"N... no. That can't be."

"Click" the line was dead again.

In fright I stared at the display again, just in time to see it become vague and disappear, the sign that my batteries were dead.

I slowly shake my head and mutter: "no... this isn't real. I have to get out of here. I have to find a way out."

I throw the phone back on the desk and speed out of my room, down the flight of stairs, towards the door to the living room and open it. I almost fall into a stream of boiling hot lava as I do so. I manage to regain my balance and stumble back. The door as if it has a mind of its own, closes again and seems to laugh at me as it squeeks.

Again I shake my head, while sitting on the floor of the hall.

"What's going on? This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real" I repeat to myself, like a mantra, hoping it will make the dream dissipate and bring me back to reality.

I manage to gather all of my bravery and stand up, my knees seem to protest and become weak, like jello they quiver and I have difficulty standing up. I walk up to the door again, breath in deep, close my eyes, open it and...

And nothing really, the lava was gone and I was looking at our own familiar living room, but like my room, something seemed off.

"This is insane... I'm going mad" I mutter to myself, trying to find an explanation.

Night had settled around the house, the stars sent their cold light into the living room.

I walk around the living room as my stomach starts to growl. Or at least I think it does. I rub my belly and turn around to head into the kitchen, but instead of staring into the kitchen, I'm meeting the cold gaze of a growling, rotting dog.

In fright I back away, the dog following my every move as it continues to growl and spread it's foul stench of death. Suddenly a phone rings to the right of me.

I whip my head around and there lies the cell-phone again, my eyes widen. I had been certain that I threw it on the desk.

As if the dog had been waiting for such a sign, it leaped at me and just in time I whip my head around again, the dog jumping onto my chest, I fall backwards due to the impact and with an outstretched hand against the thing's throat I manage to keep its clapping jaws, but centimeters from my face.

The hand on the dog's throat feels a collar, a really familiar collar, but I just can't place it. Suddenly the dog's shoulders begin to bubble, as if they're boiling and large spikes rip through the rotting flesh, spewing forth a cloud of foul stench as it does so. Its claws too, begin to bubble and spikes grow forth from it as well, shredding the straight-jacket and drawing blood from my skin.

I scream out in pain as the dog begins to scratch my arms and blood trickles down from every slash it makes. As a last resort I gather all my strength and throw the dog off of me. It yelps as it smashes onto the ground and slides into the wall, its spike breaking against the hard concrete.

Both me and the dog crawl back up and it shakes its head. After that it growls once again and directs its full attention to me again. Then it takes a sprint towards me and lunges itself into the air. Somehow I realise what I have to do and grab the nearest, large object, a chair and smash it into the side of the dog, sending splinters flying through the air, along with the dog. Which once again yelps and smashes into the wall. The spike it had lost before reunites with the dog, by piercing its chest and sending forth a fountain of blood, that, like that of the girl, evaporates as it hits the ground. The dog bubbles and sizzles as puffs of smoke arise and it explodes in a flurry of rotting flesh and stench. Now covered in both smoking remains of the rotting dog and my own blood I stand alone again in the living room.

I stand panting, holding the scratches on my arm. The phone still rang, it lay there on the table, ringing, calling me, luring me in. I gave in to it's call and picked it up. Then with the last bit of defiance left in me I threw it out the window, the shattered glass landed on the floor and the phone stopped ringing as it smashed onto the street outside.

Suddenly the TV turned itself on. It showed static, nothing more than static. The buzzing that accompanied grew louder every single moment the TV was on, until it become unbearable and made my ears pop.

Then... it stopped, the static blurred, started to swirl, becoming a spiral, a never-ending spiral. Suddenly it began to spin the other way and it changed colors. It unblurred again and a gameshow was on.

"Now lets see how long tonight's contestant can survive the Pit of Hellhounds" the presenter said as the camera turned to show a young girl, tied up, slowly being lowered on a chain. Lowered into a pit filled with dogs, much like the one that just attacked me.

The girl squirmed and screamed, even though she was gagged, frantically she tried to escape imminent death, but to no avail, as she was lowered out of sight of the camera. Her screams echoed through the room as the camera turned back to the presenter, untill they suddenly stopped as the sound of ripping clothes replaced it.

"5.6 seconds that is not at all bad" the presenter continued as if nothing was wrong "that deserves a round of applause, don't you think?"

The camera shifted to the audience as the sound of applause emerged. Clearly it had been recorded, seeing as the audience consisted of corpses, faceless, dead. There heads hanging in inhuman ways.

Then the image blurred again, reverted back to static and started to swirl once more. Then as I suddenly realised that I stood in front of it, as if my legs had lead me there, a hand reached out and grabbed my neck. In a desperate attempt to shake it off so as to not be strangled, I staggered back. The hand that came out, was attached to an arm that followed it, as I staggered further back I realised that I was dragging out a person from the TV. I staggered back further and further, untill the entire body had been dragged out.

The hand's grip weakened and it dropped from my throat, lifeless. As I stood there, trying to catch my breath again, I stared at the bloodied, lifeless body in front of me. It was dressed in torn clothes and missed pieces here and there. My eyes grew wide in both amazement and fear as I realised it was the girl that had been fed to the dogs.

In a desperate attempt to make all the pain and fear go away I turned around, ran up the flight of stairs and sat in my room, on my bed in the corner. My knees pulled up, my chin resting on them and my arms wrapped around them. Softly I cried, this couldn't be true, all of this had to be a dream... an illusion... but it was not real, it couldn't be.

My sense of time seemed to loosen, I couldn't remember how long I'd been in my room, but the stars were still out. My eyes were red from the tears and the stress. My hands were still trembling, but I knew I couldn't stay here. This place was unsafe.

Slowly I dragged myself to the edge of my bed and tried to stand. My knees seemed to be made of jello again and I fell on my hands and knees. I softly started panting and I sniffed one last time.

I sat on my knees and lifted one of my feet to get up, resting my right elbow on my right-knee and balancing myself against the wall I finally managed to get up. I held my head with my right hand, the fingers over my face, suddenly I feel the need to laugh. I still balance myself against the wall as I throw my head in my neck and start to laugh like a madman.

With effort I manage to stop, I finally found out. It was so deceptively simple, the straight-jacket confirms it. I'm going mad and if I'm not going mad then I am so already. I snicker and again start laughing, this time I bent forward, holding my stomach. The laughing is starting to hurt me.

Suddenly a shadow is cast over me as tears roll down my face again, this time of laughter. I look up, follow the faded, torn jeans and meet the gaze of someone staring down at me angrily.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" the person asks me.

"Going mad" I reply, after which I fall back into laughter.

"You're not going mad... you are mad" the man says and picks me up by my shoulder "now get back to your room."

He drags me along bright white hallways. Then he suddenly stops and opens a door. With some effort he throws me into the room, a padded room... Walls, floor, ceiling, everything completely covered in matrasses.

I roll over the floor, unable to move my arms anymore. So it was true, I was mad after all, nothing of it was real, all just a twisted dream, all just a sick illusion formed by a mad mind.

I rolled over the floor, the cushions on it denting with every movement of mine. The straight-jacket seems strangely suffocating and I find myself unable to breath. In a desperate attempt to free my throat I try to free my arms with erratic movements, tugging the sleeves, biting at them. Anything to get loose. Anything to breath again, suddenly the sleeves give way and I gasp for air, sucking it in loads at a time. The sweet smell fills my nostrils. Quickly followed by the stench of burning flesh, burning flesh and charcoaled bones.

The sudden change in smells makes me nauseos and I hurl. The bitter after-taste remains in my mouth and I get up. My throat feels like it's on fire, because I was on an empty stomach and suddenly I realise that I AM indeed rather hungry.

Suddenly the slide in the door opens, with the sound of metal scraping over metal. Someone throws in some bread and closes the slide again.

Like a wolf I jump onto my prey and greedily stuff all of it in my mouth, faster than I can chew or swallow. The bread is stale and hard as a rock, but it tastes like a king's meal.

After finishing it, I sit with my back against the wall and rest my head against it.

How did it get to this? I don't remember ever being here before... then again if I'm here I would have to be insane, thus it wouldn't be strange if I didn't remember. Hell I could be having this paranoid conversation with myself every single day for all that matters.

Suddenly a drop lands on my head, instinctively my hand reaches for the wet part and I look at the sticky solution that comes from it. It's red... crimson red and syrupy. Baffled I look at the ceiling and see how suddenly a crack appears in it, sending liters and liters of blood through it, slowly nibbling off more of the ceiling, until at some point there is a hole a meter in diameter.

The blood-level in the room rises as the matrasses stop absorbing most of the liquid, helplessly I bang my fists against the iron door constantly, my hands become bruised and slowly my skin tears apart, adding my own blood to the fluid in the room.

Desperately I scream for help, no one seems to hear me, or they just don't care.

The blood-level keeps on rising and it softly brushes my chin at this point, helplessly I float around in the syrupy, crimson-red liquid, hoping not to drown. Suddenly I bump the back of my head onto something hard and to my surprise I realise that by now I'm drifting closer to the ceiling than I want to be.

In one last desperate attempt I cry out for someone to help me, blood seaps into my mouth and slowly rises within my nostrils as well.

To my own astonishment I see another figure floating around in the red liquid and it swims towards me, the blackish blur on the reddish background moves closer and closer. I exhale unvoluntarily one last time and I cough, sending bubbles through the red liquid, slowly the world seems to go darker and darker and I realise that I'm passing out, just before I drift off into unconsciousness, I feel two arms pulling me away, upwards.

Suddenly I feel hands pressing onto my chest heavily and repeatedly, I cough up blood, judging from my wet cheeks it is not the first stream of the reddish fluid that comes out of my mouth and I slowly open my eyes, I squint to the bright light and close them again.

Then I feel a mouth pressed onto mine, blowing in more air, in a desperate attempt to shake off whoever is trying to blow me up I push my upper-body off the ground, with my elbows.

Someone yelps and as I open my eyes, I see the figure of a person, its head lying on my lap, its legs next to me.

I shake some of the wet, red hair out of my face and send red drops flying throughout the concrete room, the empty concrete room, except for the door and the chair in the corner. I look down and see the face of a youg girl, her blonde hair, slightly red-coloured due to the liquid and some red drops on her pale cheek. She looks at me rather shocked.

I realise I must've made a real bad impression, drifting there helpless in the blood and now sitting there, dripping wet.

Silently I wipe my face with one of the sleeves of the straight-jacket and find to my surprise that my sleeves are gone.

"I took them off" she says as she sits up and wipes some hair out of her face with her hand. She's a rather pretty girl actually and not the kind that you'd expect in such a place.

"Ex... Excuse me?" I say as her remark fails to penetrate my brain.

"Your sleeves" she says, pointing at my bare arms "I took them off, they got caught behind debris, so I ripped them off."

"Bad stitching job they did then" I reply dryly.

"Uhm have you seen anyone else alive in this place?" I continue.

"No, I was actually rather surprised finding you here... alive. Everyone else I found was either dead or mutated" she replied, she sighed. Her eyes seemed to fill up with tears.

I embrace her and force her against me, like a small child she clings to the straight-jacket as she begins to cry.

"It's okay, it's okay, we'll find a way out of here" I say comforting her and stroking her hair with my hand, a hand full of small cuts and bruises, my blood mixing with the fine layer of blood upon her hair.

"It's okay... it's okay. I'll promise you we'll get out of here" I tell the girl in a reassuring voice, trying to comfort here. With a last sob she looks up at me, with teary eyes.

"Now tell me... what's your name?" I ask her with a smile, looking down at her.

"Galina" she replies, her voice trembles.

"Galina, huh? That's a pretty name."

"So... so what's yours?"

"Michael... my name's Michael."

Suddenly loud thumps resound through the room, as if something is trying to bash in the iron door from the other side. Cracks and bumps appear as the door budges in.

Galina scowers off to the corner furthest away from the door.

"They're coming... they're coming for me... I've been bad and they've come to punish me" she mumbles, shielding her head with her arms, expecting a blow any time.

I can't let her get hurt, she saved my life I'm gonna have to save hers then.

I raise to my feet and take a battle stance, it's been a long time since I’ve put my karate to any use, so this is as good a time as any to brush up my skills.

With a loud crash the door budges one last time and slams onto the ground, spewing a cloud of dust my way.

But to my surprise... nothing follows in the path of the dust-cloud, in fact there is nothing behind the pitch-black hole where the door used to be. Carefully I shuffle towards the darkness, when suddenly a sound behind me alarms me. I spin myself around, just in time to see Galina rise, just as surprised as me.

I shuffle towards the darkness further, a large block seems to blocking my throat and it's hard to swallow.

"Be careful" Galina says, sending me into the air.

"Damn man.. take it easy, she's just talking to you, nothing bad... she's just talking" I mutter under my breath as I try to catch it again.

Meanwhile I've arrived at the hole. I pop my head inside it and my knees seem to be knocked from under me.

This can't be true... there's... there's nothing there. In fact this is our kitchen. This isn't right, this can't be right, something's wrong. There has to be something here, what else could have destroyed a massive steel door?

On my knees I catch my breath and try to calm myself, my hand raises itself to my face and I place my hand over it. Take it easy, breath in... breath out. Nothing wrong after all, what happened here is insane, unreal, illogical. It could very well have been that nothing at all destroyed the door, but it collapsed due to the weight of the walls... yeah that's it the floor above must've come down and the weight of that was too much for the door and it buckled and got wrecked, that's it. It must be.

I remove my hand from my face, still not sure what the hell I'm talking about myself.

Something black catches my gaze, something in the corner of my eye speeding away, to my right. My eyes trace the path it must've taken, but there's nothing there.

"Shit... there's something here after all" I say to myself through my teeth.

"What did you say?" Galina suddenly says as she puts a hand on my shoulder.

"There's something here... something bad, get out of here" I yell at her while whipping my head around.

Something black appears in my line of sight behind and above her. The same black thing, a black blur. I get up and push her away, the thing crashes into the ground and scowers off, too fast for me to trace.

"Shit... this isn't good" I say again through my teeth.

"What... what was that?" Galina asked scared.

"I don't care... but it's hostile."

Suddenly I get an idea... if this is our kitchen then there are bound to be knives, knives can be used as weaponry. I open the drawer that should have the knives and stagger back, resting myself on the wall on the other side. In the drawer was the cell phone, staring at me in all of it's black grandure. Suddenly the thing began ringing.

Galina walked towards this, I tried to stop her, but it was too late she answered it.

"It's for you" she says, while handing me the phone.

I take it and hold it to my ear.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SEND AFTER ME THIS TIME?" I yell through it

Ater some time the familiar voice at the other end replies: "I didn't do anything, you probably walked onto it's path. But if I were you I'd look behind me right now."

I whip my head around, but there's nothing there, just the wall. In all my rage I slam my fist into the wall, as the voice at the other end starts laughing wildly.

"Hahaha... Gotcha... Hahaha" the voice says as he tries to speak.

In anger I throw the phone into the wall, smashing it.

"Who... who was that?" Galina asks, frightened by my outburst.

"I don't care... he's some asshole that got me here."

I return to the drawer and pick the single knife in there, it's rather big. A big chef's knife. I grasp it into my hand tightly, looking for the black blur again.

Nowhere... the black blur was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere, every corner of the kitchen seemed desolate as my eyes scanned it for anything out of the ordinary. Galina was still behind me, still standing there, she was safe there... or so I thought, until I heard her scream.

A big black blob sat on her face, in a desperate attempt to get rid of it, she grabbed what seemed to be legs and threw the thing off. It scowered off into a dark corner, leaving behind a small trail of smoking blood.

"Are you okay?" I ask concerned.

"My eyes... they're burning..." Galina said as she feverishly rubbed her eyes, her cheek had two small wounds, well too small to be called wounds really, more like the wound left behind by a needle.

Slowly her hands turned red and along her cheek ran a crimson tear.

"It burns... it hurts... MAKE IT STOP" she screamed as she started clawing at her eyes. In an attempt to make her stop I grabbed her wrists, but the damage had been done, large scratches ran across her eyelids and in the vicinity of her eyes.

Suddenly she coughed and spat some blood on my clothes.

"No... this can't be true... what the hell did that thing do to you?" I ask, as tears swell up in my eyes.

She coughed some more and suddenly she collapsed, she lay there, remains of the crimson tears still on her cheeks, shimmering in the faint light. Her blond hair, still covered with the blood, lay under her head, as if it was trying to flee away from her... no more like she shone, a reddish-golden shine.

It took me some time to realise that she was dead, lifeless, a corpse...

Anger got a hold of me and I tracked the trail of small drops of blood to the corner, there huddled in the furthest reaches of the corner sat a spider, as big as Galina's head had been, her head with her pretty face, her sea-blue eyes.

I grabbed the spider by it's abdomen and held it in front of my face, it hissed at me and tried to sink it fangs anywhere it could reach. With a swift movement of the blade I cut them off and threw the blade away.

The creature send out a screech of pain and torment and a grin crept on my face. I let my head hang slightly and my eyesockets and hair shadowed my eyes.

Very slowly I gripped one of the things eight legs and turned it around slowly, ever so slowly, the thing kept screeching in pain, untill at long last the furry, black, soft flesh gave way and the leg dropped to the floor. Blood dripped from the fresh wound and began to evaporate alongside the leg that lay on the floor. The leg smoked... seemed to be boiling and turned into a puff of smoke.

My hand searched and found another heavily squirming leg and repeated the actions, twist, rip, drop... twist, rip, drop... twist, rip, drop.

After all the legs had been removed the creature was weak of bloodloss and I threw it in the sink.

This kitchen was bound to have matches... I would give this foul creature a cleansing it would never forget. I'd wash it with flames and burn away all of its sins, because it was incapable of doing so itself.

This amused me so, that I started laughing. I placed the tips of my bloodied fingers on my forehead and rest the rest of my hand on the tip of my nose.

"Pitiful... the spider... Galina... the dog... PITIFUL... they are weak, succumbing to something even weaker than them... succumbing to Death. I shall be Death's executive and cleanse this world of the weak... of ALL the weak" I said in between the laughing.

I forgot about the matches and picked up the knife again. I gently ran the tip of the knife along the spider's abdomen, until it reached the center. Slowly I applied pressure, slowly cracking the shell... slowly, ever so slowly. It would have to suffer before giving in to Death.

At long last the blade drew blood as it penetrated the soft flesh underneath the carapace and with a single thrust I pinned the squirming spider on the blade.

Then I tilted the blade so that it cut to the back of the abdomen, clouds of smoke slowly rose up from the creature as more blood was drawn from it. The abdomen was now cut in half and I grabbed a half in each hand. Slowly I spread the parts... slowly ever so slowly, until the creature was torn in two... until the creature gave in to Death.

I threw away the two smoking halves and got ready to leave, leaving the blade behind. The kitchen had the door to the backyard... there was nothing that needed cleansing here anymore.

I laughed at the prospects of being able to finally cleanse this world. No... not this world... the voice had told me... it was MY world... yes... my world. I could hear him clearly now, he spoke to me, I didn't need that Cell Phone anymore... he was with me... always.

Puffs of smoke rose up on the camera, rose up from the blood stains all around the kitchen. From the spider's corpse, to Galina's body.

"Hmm... it seems we have reached the threshold" a voice commented, the owner's face was hidden in the shadows, except for the tv-screens reflecting on his glasses.

"Send in the men... I want him... alive" he said coldly," prefferably", he added after a moment.

Three men, rigurously dressed to conceal any part of their body, to add protection to their oh so fragile flesh, rushed through the concrete corridors, their steps resounding throughout the hallways.

"I hate this part... they're never the same... and whatever they did to do those things down there, they can also do to us..." Henry muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" the squadron leader demanded.

"Nothing sir, nothing."

They stopped abruptly as they came across an intersection and turned to face a control panel, with a series of bleeps the steel security door accepted the code and opened up with a hiss and a rattle.

From the familiar steam and dust that arose when the secured area was opened suddenly a shadow lunged itself forward, landing on the guard that had just entered the code.

Relentlessly the back of his head was bashed onto the floor untill it lay in a puddle of blood, the helmet cracked and torn, much like the man's skull.

Slowly Henry backed away.

"What... what is that thing?" he screamed in horror, pointing at the man sitting on top of his fellow-guard... his former friend.

"Don't just stand there... attack, take him out" the squadron leader shouted as he was about to open fire.

A hand reached out and a clip was emptied into the ceiling, sending an avalanche of debris and dust downward, covering the fresh blood of the two dead guards and turning their blood-puddles into red mud.

Henry turned around abruptly and was about to run off, when a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around abruptly.

A maniacal face looked at him, covered in blood.

"I shall cleanse you... I shall cleanse you of your sins" he declared to Henry.

Then the man raised a fist and as Henry was about to mutter a suppressed ‘no’ and tears started to roll down his face, the fist came down, shattered the eyeshield of his helmet and first blood was drawn... first and last blood.

Chapter 2: Diary of a Madman

Aaron woke up from his restless dream, it ended the same way it always did. He'd wake up as the last guard was killed. He'd find himself upright in bed, bathing in sweat and breathing heavily. His thoughts wandered off the way they always did after this dream. Somehow it all seemed so familiar and somehow it all seemed so far away. And why did the man in his dreams remind him of Mitchel? Mitchel the homeless one... Mitchel the wanderer... Mitchel the vagabond... Mitchel... his only friend on this god-forsaken planet.

The bleeps of his alarm clock brought him back to reality. The sharp sound penetrated his brain, seemed to rupture his ears and with an automatic response he hit it on the top with his left fist. He always did that and it never shut up the first time. He had to ram it twice or more for it to finally give up it's infernal bleeping and shut it's virtual trap.

He got out of bed reluctantly, he'd have to face them again. Face their taunts, their insults, their pesterings, their prejudice. How he hated them, how he wished they could just die a horrible, painful, slow death.

As always he suppressed these thoughts and got dressed, he never bothered putting clothes in his closet, he'd just spill them all over the floor within a days time anyway. So he just got the first more or less presentable shirt he found, found a similar pair of shorts and after some time he managed to find a matching pair of socks. He'd been lucky today... he didn't always have the luxury of wearing matching socks.

He lifted the matrass up on its side and turned around to the kitchen area of his mini-appartment. He opened the fridge and an eerie, ghostly light spread through the single-roomed apartment. He took whatever was left and edible and gulped it down hurriedly.

He searched for what he needed for the coming school-day, found his worn, old army boots and put them on, under his raggy shorts. Well shorts was a big word... it were just normal jeans with the ends cut off.

With a satisfactory tap on the floor he made sure the boots were on and he grabbed his old army-coat from the single chair. It was stained, worn and had seen it's best days pass by.

He left the single door in the appartment and hurried down the dim-lit, shadowy corridors. The paint began to peel in most places on the walls and carpet had been a luxury they had never heard of in this rat hole, but after 5 years he didn't really notice all that anymore. He'd memorised all of the unravelled edges of the carpet, every creeking board, all the weird-coloured stains on the walls, the whole shin-dig.

As he passed the stairs he decided not to walk for a change, he was only on the first floor anyway... so he might as well jump down the staircase instead of walking, hell it would probably be safer, considering the state the wood was in.

He dropped his bag down the shaft and watched it crash-land with a slightly pleased feeling as it sent up a cloud of dust. Not much later he hopped over the half-rotten railing, taking with him some of it as he jumped.

He hadn't been entirely prepared for the shock and his scrawny body couldn't really take the hit, so he fell to his knees and was forced to inhale a cloud of dust.

He coughed and spat out some of the mud that had now formed in his mouth.

Now he remembered why he was called the "hobo" again, this place was a shithole. There was nothing of any significance, well at least not until they declared it condemned that is.

He wiped some of his greasy brown hair from his face and more or less hooked it behind his ear.

"G'morning to you too" a voice said to him from the shadows under the stairs "but do you really need to make such a fucking racket on early mornings."

"Hey now... watch you're goddamn language, will ya?" Aaron replied to the familiar voice, a slight smirk crept on his face.

From under the stairs came a boy, not much older than he was, merely 18 years of age at most and as usual he was cleaning his nails with the rusty old scuba-diving-knife, as soon as Aaron saw it, he was always remembered of what the owner, Mitchel, said the rust was from. Supposedly it was from the blood of his enemies, this statement was always followed by an eerie, close to maniacal, laughter.

"Oh and by the way" Aaron added.

"Hmmm?" Mitchel replied as he rose an eyebrow.

"G'morning to you too, mate."

"Heh... there's still some decency in the old geezer left I see" Mitchel replied, grinning victoriously, he knew he had now won the 'war of the words' as they reffered to it "anyway, I'm gonna see if I can score me some breakfast, man. I'm starving."

Mitchel lift his free hand and Aaron clasped it as usual, the old routine, their greeting and their goodbye.

"You can check what's in my fridge, you know that."

"Of course I do... but where's the fun in that?"

Mitchel scowered off through what would normally be known as a door and it creaked sharply as he opened it, the morning's ghostly sunlight crept through the hallway, slowly scraping at the edges of the shadows, spilling like liquid across the dust-covered carpet. Mitchell's long shadow slowly disappeared as he walked through the door and out onto the street.

Aaron hurried to catch the door before it closed again. Mitchell was nowhere to be seen as usual, he always pulled this kind Houdini-disappearance act.

Aaron shrugged and turned left, heading down the streets, heading towards school, heading towards hell.

His thoughts wandered off, to the familiar, yet strange dream and how the maniac in that dream resembled Mitchel so much. As his thoughts wandered off, he didn't realise that there was someone in front of him and he bumped into the man.

The man turned around abruptly and behind him two others came into view.

"Well, well, well" the man began, he was a kid after Aaron looked again, one about his age, one he knew real well, sadly, "fancy bumping into you here."

The kid cracked his knuckles and smiled rather contently as he did so. Probably taking pleasure at the sight of Aaron stumbling back. One of the two standing behind him got out a chain from his back, while the other drew a knife.

Aaron wouldn't stand a chance against these guys... all he could do was run off, but they'd catch up to him and it'd be worse than enduring it straight up, he learned that through experience.

"Now, will you be a good boy and endure your punishment?" the young man continued.

Aaron gulped, he knew it'd hurt, he knew he'd probably miss another day of school because of this.

"What's the matter? Too chicken to speak now your guard dog isn't here, Hobo?"

"Woof" someone said from behind the kid, who Aaron always reffered to as the 'Slave Driver' and someone smacked him upside the head.

Slowly the Slave Driver turned around and his eyes met the irritated and slightly bored gaze of Mitchel.

"Hey man, we were just kidding you know?" the Slave Driver, trying to look cool, calm and collected, failed to do so miserably and his voice slightly trembled as his so-called friends slowly backed away from Mitchel.

Mitchel was rumored to have killed someone else that picked on Aaron, no not picked on... terrorised was more like it.

"Actually" Mitchel began calmly as he put on his fingerless, leather gloves "I don't know."

Calmly and without any visible difficulty he then grabbed the Slave Driver by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

"And if it was... I really don't find it funny" he added as he lift his knee and crashed it into the Slave Driver’s stomach. The navy-blue jacket and the tie bulged as the hard knee hit soft flesh.

"Now be a good little snob and go buy yourself some new shit and leave us alone" Mitchel added as he let the Slave Driver go. The Slave Driver fell to the ground and puked, the force of the impact had turned his stomach inside out and its contents spilled over the concrete sidewalk and into the gutter.

Suddenly Aaron got the urge to kick the Slave Driver, kick him real hard, kick him until the contents of his abdomen spilled across the sidewalk, for the raven to feed on. Or kick him in the head repeatedly, untill his skull split like a nut and its gooey, pink contents oozed out.

With a frightened shake of his head, he banned these thoughts from his mind and turned to Mitchel.

"Don't mention it" Mitchel said to him, smiling.

"I didn't even say anything."

"I know how you think, man, you know that."

"Uhhuh... true. Great minds think alike after all."

They both laughed, they were so much better than those idiots, these lowly peasants. Those that had not known suffering, Aaron realised that know, why had it taken him so long?

Suddenly Mitchel bent down and searched the Slave Driver's pockets. After some time he found the kid's wallet and took it out.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked politely, holding up the wallet "didn't think so."

Without hesitating he took all the money from the wallet and threw the empty thing at the Slave Driver's head, with a soft thud the leather thing smacked him in the face and bounced into the gutter.

Victoriously Mitchel held up the notes he had taken from the wallet and smiled at Aaron.

“Shall we go then, my good man?” he asked as he politely bowed.

“Of course, good sir” Aaron replied and he stepped over the Slave Driver, without any interest and the heel of his boot nearly hit him in the face.

He shot a quick glance down and saw the Slave Driver’s eyes grow wider for a moment. He grinned and chuckled to himself. The thought of the Slave Driver being afraid of him, if only for a moment brought him a delight like none he had ever experienced before.

Yes… that was it… He’d have to stand up to them, use their own filthy tactics against them,

kick them when they’d be down, hit them under the belt, use weapons, attack from behind, the whole array they had used on him as well. Yes… that was what he’d do. He grinned, he finally found out how.

Suddenly Mitchel tapped him on his forehead with his index finger.

“Hellooooo, Earth to Aaron” he said, bringing his face close to Aaron’s.

“Huh, what?”

“I asked you if you enjoyed your daydream, man. You were laughing for no reason at all, it’s a wonder they didn’t put you in an asylum yet.”

Aaron looked around him, several people on the suddenly crowded streets had stopped and were now staring at the both of them. Some engaged in talks behind the back of their hands, others just staring and pointing.

Mitchel flipped them off, every single one of them. Leaving the gazers baffled and some of them rather insulted.

Aaron walked on, blushing, embarassed… he’d made a fool of himself again, now he remember why they picked on him all the time. He was such an easy target, it was as if he had a bulls-eye on his forehead.

Aaron ducked his head into his collar and hurried off, with his bag still over his shoulder. Mitchel looked at his back as he walked away.

Mitchel'd never understand how Aaron's mind worked, he shook his head and brushed shoulders with some sharp-dressed desk-worker-type and headed into an alley, pursuing his breakfast again.

Aaron walked on in shame, he'd messed up again and he knew it. He walked on towards the barren, concrete waste that was the school yard and entered through the large wooden doors with peeling paint. The doors screaked and the rusty hinges scraped across one another.

The empty class rooms that Aaron passed, reminded him how this neighborhood had always been a better one than it was now, now it was a shithole, a shadow of it's former self. In a way, this part of town fit him and he fit it. They were made for each other.

The desolate hallways, the empty classrooms it also reminded him of himself, his empty past, the lack of memories. He knew nothing and would never will, not after that fateful day that everything went blank, that day he woke up, without a name, without a past, without a life, without a future...

He stopped in front of a door with a small, round window in it, the glass was broken and some bits and pieces of it were missing, he kicked against the door and it flew open, sending forth a cloud of dust.

Another empty one, but this one was different. This one was where she had confessed to him and had later on stabbed him in the back.

Each night the words ran through his mind, like a herd of mad bulls. "I never loved you... How could someone like you ever be loved?" is what she'd told him "you were just a toy, a plaything, A PUPPET."

He repeated the last in first tense.

"I'm just a toy, a plaything, a puppet" he said, his eyes cast to the ground, studying the dust as it settled down.

"WELL THAT'S GONNA FUCKING CHANGE!" he shouted after some time and he threw his bag into one of the rickety desk and watched it collapse.

"IT'S GONNA CHANGE YOU HEAR ME?" he went on as he grabbed a chair and slammed it against the blackboard, both the chair and the board shattered and sent chunks of rotten wood throughout the classroom.

Aaron breathed heavily as he saw someone standing in the doorway from the corner of his eye.

"What do you want?" he asked the figure.

"Nothing really" the figure said back, it was a girl's voice, a sweet, innocent voice "but uhm... you... you dropped this."

She handed him a small, crimson red booklet, in black letters it read Diary Of A Madman. He swiped the booklet from her hands.

"You didn't read did you?" he asked her. She probably had, her voice was too sweet, she was hiding something, no one would be nice enough not to look when they found something. It's something he had learned over the years.

"No.. no.. of course not... why... why would I?" she said hesitantly.

He had a closer look at her, she wasn't at all unpretty to look at, in fact she kind of looked like the Galina from his dreams. He shook that from his mind, nah she couldn't be anyway.

He walked off, tucking the notebook inside his pocket.

"You’re welcome" she said as he walked away.

"Whatever" was his reply. He turned left and headed away from his class, he was way too late for his class now anyway, so he might as well chill on top of the roof or something.

He dashed up the stairs, skipping a step with each of his strides. Tiresome, all so tiresome, school... life... this dump... everything.

Upon reaching the last floor, he kicked open the rusted, steel door and it opened up to let in a horribly, bright, cheery ray of sunlight. Aaron's eyes needed to adjust for a second, from the shadowy confinements of the school building to the bright sunlight was too big a gap to cross instantly.

He rose his arm to block out most of the light and walked out onto the concrete roof, most of it was cracked and weeds were growing here and there.

He'd sit in his usual spot, the spot in between the two large cracks, with his back resting against the old, rickety fence. The woven iron pressed the familiar little squares in his body and he closed his eyes, letting his face bathe in the sunlight, yet still it felt like he missed something, something important.

After a moment or two he opened his eyes again and started rumaging through his bag, that he'd dropped without care. Out of it he got an old, battered discman.

In it the only CD he owned. A CD by a band called Final Fusion, he knew the CD by heart, yet would never replace it, he couldn't.

He plugged in the ear phones and turned on the music. The solid drum of the beats, the erratic riffs of the guitar and the melancholic sound of the bass, they all seemed to fit together as pieces of a puzzle.

He knew the songs in and out, he could sing with the lead singer, as if it was him standing there. He could relate to the singer, he could have been the singer.

His mind wandered across the tracks as the CD-player did the same. He sang along to their song Indoctri-Nation, the way he always did, he closed his eyes and enjoyed every minute of it. Every second, every single sound, every little detail.

Suddenly though a shadow was cast over his face and even with his eyes closed he noticed. He grabbed whoever it was by the collar.

“Leave me alone” he said through gritted teeth and pushed the person away.

Whoever it was fell from the force and a soft yelp penetrated Aaron’s ears, even through the sound of the ripping guitars.

He opened his eyes and in front of him sat the girl that handed back his diary.

“I told you to mind your own business” he said, while taking the ear plugs out of his ears. The music slowly filled the air as the song picked up to a faster part.

He pushed the stop button and put the CD-player back in his bag, he slowly rose to his feet.

“I really didn’t look” she said, not looking up to him.

“Like I said… whatever” he said as he strolled off and he left her sitting there, staring at the ground.

The door to the staircase slammed shut behind him and closed out the light that had flood in so greedily.

He half expected the girl to follow him, she'd been too keen on following him before, so why not now? And he was slightly surprised to find that she wasn't following, he shrugged and continued his path down.

While doing so he rummaged through his bag, trying to find his CD-player again, after a while he found out and he tried to stuff it into the pocket of his coat. Instead of going in normally it bumped into a solid object though and Aaron stopped. He sat down on one of the steps and put his CD-player beside him.

From his pocket he got the solid object and now in his hand he stared at the red notebook... his Diary Of A Madman. It'd been a long time since he wrote in it... it'd been a long time he read it.

After staring at the notebook for some time, he finally decided to open it and to read through it, he flipped through some of the older pages without interest. They'd been boring days, so there'd be boring additions to his diary.

Then he came across his entries about that girl... that girl that had betrayed him, lured him in like he was some kind of prey and then killed him. She'd stabbed his heart like it was some kind of meat, she'd scewered it with her sharp tongue and torn it from his chest.

He should thank her though... she'd taught him things... things no one else would be able to teach him. How he could never trust anyone except Mitchel for example.

He grinned at the comment he made about the way he'd want her to die. He always did that for the people that had hurt him.

He remembered all too clearly, Final Fusion's Angel Without Wings would be perfect for that angel that had fallen. Fallen from the glory of Heaven and that had been defiled by Satan's touch.

He softly began singing the words of the refrain:

"Let me clip your wings

You don't need those things

An angel that can't fly

Might as well die."

After repeating the refrain a few times he got tired of it and skipt to the end of the song, the best part in his opinion.

"Now I clipped your wings

Now you lost those things

Now that you can't fly

Go ahead and die."

And as he pronounced the last word he threw the notebook away, its hard cover bounced off the wall and it opened itself on a random page. Out of the small notebook came a note, something the size of an A4 sheet of paper, but folded to only a quarter of that size.

Curious, Aaron got up and walked over to the notebook and the piece of paper. He picked it up and unfolded it, the best he could. Judging from the shape it was in, it had been in his diary for a long time, but he didn't remember putting it there, he didn't even remember seeing it before...

He looked at the piece of paper he was now holding, unfolded and in all its glory, a picture... that's what it was... a picture. A picture of him and Fiona, the girl he had loved, his so-called girlfriend. Well before she had dumped him... before his world, his dreams were shattered. He balled the hand the paper was in and it. The more or less ball-shaped form that he saw when he opened his fist was so much like he had been, before he met her. Someone, tucked deep inside himself, deep inside his own shell.

And she had lured him out, making him show his vulnerable self... and then she stabbed at his bare back and added another knife to the collection in there. By now, he had lost count of the number of times he had been deceived, been cheated, been lied to.

He threw the ball over his shoulder and didn't pay any more attention to it and how it could have gotten inside his diary, instead he just picked up his diary and put it in his bag.

Reluctantly he threw the bag over his shoulder and he put the CD-player on and tucked it in his pocket. "Angel Without Wings" played again and he drifted off in thought, while unknowingly sitting down again, he put the CD on repeat and just sat there, listening to the song over and over, paying no attention if the girl passed him on her way down.

Then he let his head rest against the wall on his right side and closed his eyes. Slowly, but surely he left consciousness and drifted off to sleep.

After some time he opened his eyes and continued his way down, his bag was gone, probably stolen by those pranksters again, but surprisingly his CD-player was still there.

He shrugged it off, thinking they wouldn't have stolen his CD-player, because he was asleep, stealing it would probably have woken him up. By now he had reached the main floor, nothing much there, the double doors to the hallway, smaller than the ones at the front of the building, but still a respectable size and as always they made a hell of a noise when he opened them with some effort.

And then... she was there, Fiona stood before him, staring up at him with cold, hateful eyes and something inside him snapped, he wanted to strangle her, kill her with brute force, see the contents of her skull spill across the floor of the hallway.

As he stood there, his CD-player once again repeated the song and he reached out for her throat, surprisingly she did not move.

He'd kill her, here and now, make her pay for what she had done to him, make her pay for all the harm she caused and she would pay... she would pay dearly. Slowly, he applied pressure on her throat, he could feel the soft flesh bulge under the force and then the spine, pressing against his finger tips, yet she seemed unaffected. It was as if he did nothing to her, so he let go... balled his fist and hit her square in the face. He could feel the bone in her nose bend and break under the force of the impact and blood now covered his knuckles, yes... she'd be in pain now, he thought as he grinned. She'd be in pain, just like he had been.

Yet... still, even though her nose was bleeding immensely, she seemed to remain unaffected.

He looked around to see if he could use something as weapon, yet saw nothing. He slammed his fist into the wall instead, he could feel the sharp pain as his knuckles came into contact with the hard concrete.

He looked at his knuckles, the one belonging to his middle finger had swollen... as usual, it had swollen and had turned purple. Then he spun his head round and looked at Fiona again, she had caused all of this, if she would just be dead he would have nothing to worry about anymore.

And then suddenly there it was, he saw it... she was holding something. A javelin... the kind they used in phys. ed., in fact she had one in either hand.

Aaron snatched them from her hands and he lift the one in his left hand, they had always made fun of him for that... just because he was left-handed, he wouldn't succumb to the torture anymore, he'd resist... no not resist it... he'd make it end, yes that's what he'd do. He grinned victoriously as he walked around to Fiona's back, he'd pin her with her face to the wall... he'd pin her to the wall with these javelins, one in either shoulder.

He pushed her to the wall and drove the javelin into her shoulder, she let out an inhuman scream of utter pain and agony, yet they would not rise out above the sound of his victorious laughter. He could finally make her pay and so he did... he made her pay, the full extent of the price, she had destroyed his life, now he would destroy hers.

He tossed the javelin from his right hand to his left and prepared to land it upon her shoulder. He'd thrust it in quickly and pin her to the wall, if she'd survive, she'd starve to death or dehydrate, it was Friday after all... no one would find her until Monday.

He grinned at the idea of Fiona hanging here all weekend and the janitor finding her on Monday-morning, then he thrust the javelin through her right shoulder and again she let out a cry of agony.

Aaron stepped back and admired his work, he had done well, she payed alright. Then as if the javelins were alive, they grew feathers, feathers like they were wings.

He laughed at her, she had finally become the angel she had wanted to be. She had finally become Satan's Angel...

He stopped laughing as someone pushed him away, pushed him through the hallway, but there was no one there, no one except Fiona and him.

“Who are you? LEAVE ME ALONE” Aaron shouted, continually pushed around by the invisible force, he closed his eyes, hoping that the force would leave him alone if he ignored it… it did not.

As he opened his eyes again, he stared in the face of the Slave-Driver, the face was twisted in utter rage. Aaron staggered back, finding himself on the stairs again. The Slave-Driver pulled him closer again, by his collar and spat in his face.

“I told you to listen to me, maggot” he added as Aaron wiped the spit from his face.

Aaron knocked the hand away and fled up the stairs, pursued by the three that always terrorised him. He fled up the iron steps as fast as his wobbly legs would carry him, hoping to find some sort of rescue on the roof, as he threw open the door to the roof, dark clouds gathered over-head.

He gazed around for anything that even remotely resembled his savior, but there was nothing there, nothing except for the girl… shit she’d be drawn into this… into this maelstrom.

By now the three had caught up to him and they were standing behind him, panting.

“Now, now” the Slave-Driver commenced “haven’t I told you before not to run from our little game?”

Aaron swallowed hard and turned around, meeting the gaze of the Slave-Driver once again, slowly he nodded yes, hoping it would somewhat lighten the punishment he’d receive.

“Well we have a fun new game to play…” the Slave-Driver went on as he revealed a length of barbed wire,” I bet you’ve played cowboys and indians before, have you?”

“Oh wait… how ignorant of me” he added, slapping his forehead, after Aaron shook his head slowly ”you don’t remember, do you?”

Again Aaron shook his head.

“Well then… we’ll just have to play now, won’t we?”

The two standing behind the Slave-Driver shot forward and grabbed each of Aaron’s arms, making sure he couldn’t go anywhere. The Slave-Driver grinned and stepped forward, stretching some of the barbed wire.

“Now… be a good boy and put your hands on your back.”

Even before Aaron had had a chance to comply the two bullies forced his hands on his back and slowly the Slave-Driver made his way around Aaron, he wrapped Aaron’s wrists in the barbed wire and laughed as the sharp nail-like extensions pierced the skin and drew blood.

“Good boy… now stay” the Slave-Driver said as he hit Aaron on the spine, forcing him on his knees.

“Stop it” the girl screamed.

As if they were disturbed in some kind of work that required their full attention the bullies turned to face the girl.

“I see we have another victim here” the Slave-Driver went on as he grinned at the girl.

A raindrop landed on the Slave-Driver's outstretched hand and he looked upwards, with a curious look in his eyes. It seemed the clouds were conspiring against him and in favor of the girl, as they send down their cold, watery load.

"Meh... we'll play some other time, cutie" the Slave-Driver said as he turned around and headed back inside and down the stairs.

The rain fell on the concrete slabs of the roof and splashed in the puddles it quickly created.

Aaron rose to his feet again, using the wall as guidance, his hands still tied behind his back with the barbed wire, the combination of the rain-water and his sweat stinged the cuts and wounds and his blood mixed with the water on the roof.

He let his head hang and sank to his knees again, resting his back against the wall of the stair-case. The small cubicle rose above the roof some two meters and it's broken, run-down gutter let through as much water as it collected, sending it down in small pillars of water. Aaron sat beneath one of these pillars and his head got soaked in the water, the endless dripping seemed to drive him mad, but he did not move... there was no reason to.

The girl walked towards Aaron.

"Can I help..." she asked.

"No... leave me alone" Aaron replied.

"Are you"

"I said to leave me the FUCK ALONE" Aaron interrupted her.

She took several steps back and headed indoors after a while, letting her shoulders hang.

Slowly the watery-blood mixture gathered on the ground, creating a small puddle in which Aaron sat. He couldn't help himself... he cried... he was worthless... he could better end it, no need to go on.

He tried to stand up, having a hard time to get up from his seated position, with his hands tied behind his back.

He was pretty high up... he'd probably die if he jumped down and took the fall... yes he'd do just that... he'd take the fall and splatter, no more pain, no more suffering... eternal peace.

Awkwardly he ran as best as he could towards the fence that marked the end of the roof. He threw himself against it and the rusted fence gave way, opening up his way down, he didn't even bother to scream, he wanted it this way.

The ground came closer with the second, nearing him and then... the distance was eliminated and he crashed onto the cold, hard concrete below, he closed his eyes unvolutarily and exhaled a last time.

Chapter 3: Light My Fire

"Give him something to calm down, we need to stabilise the kid or we'll lose him" someone shouted hastily.

Aaron heard small wheels riding across small tiles, he tried opening his eyes, but couldn't.

What the hell were they talking about? Were they trying to save him, stop him from dying? No... they couldn't stop him he had to die.

He wanted to tell them to stop and he shouted, or at least he thought he did, his mouth wouldn't open, his tongue wouldn't move. He couldn't shout, he couldn't tell them to stop. He was at their mercy... and they would save him, lunge him back into the hellpit he had tried to escape from.

"Okay... get me another doctor, I'm gonna need an extra pair of hands on this one and someone make that goddamn bleeding stop" the voice went on, paying no attention to Aaron's wishes what so ever.

Damn it... they should've just let him die, like he wanted to, no need to go back to the world, when the world hated you.

No need to go back to the people that pushed you over the edge in the first place.

If he could've opened his eyes, he would now have closed them again and he drifted off in thought, slowly losing consciousness again.

As he came to, he tried opening his eyes. The bright light seemed to blind him and hurt his eyes, so he closed them again, moaning.

He tried to raise an arm to put it over his eyes, blocking out the light, but he couldn't, he was strapped in.

Seizures, he thought, from what he read about losing consciousness and people that lost it, he knew that seizures weren't at all uncommon.

He looked at his arms, all strapped in, the brown leather seemed to have cracked throughout and the room was all but hygienic, blood stains on the wall that had turned brown, rats scattered across the cracked tiles on the floor, which presumably had been white a long, long time ago.

Desperately he tried to get his hands out of the straps, there had to be some way he could get out of here... Then he stopped... This could be hell... What if he HAD died?

Suicide was a sin and sins got your ass down in hell to suffer for eternity, or at least until you had payed for your sins...

The feeling he could be dead comforted him, he wouldn't have to face those bastards again and Hell couldn't be much worse than what they had done to him. Hell... He'd always wanted to go there instead of to Heaven... Heaven was boring, all the interesting people were in Hell, The Bloody Countess, Hitler, Genghis Khan... The president, he grinned, he had always wanted to kick the crap out of the president and this might just be his chance.

Suddenly the grimey doors swung open, inwards and a faceless woman-like creature stumbled in, the rags that clothed her looked like they were part of a nurse's uniform, or at least they had been... Now they were torn and blood-covered.

It was as if the nurse-creature tried to speak, but since her mouth was gone the skin only wrinkled and no sound, other than moaning, came out.

She seemed to stagger her way to Aaron's bed, knocking some stands over as she drew nearer and nearer, Aaron felt his breath stop in his throat and his blood run cold in his veins.

He started frantically to try to get his arms out again, but to no avail, the creature drew nearer and nearer. And Aaron noticed she was dragging along a giant butcher knife.

Aaron's eyes grew wide in astonishment and he tried to get as far away from the thing as possible, but failed to move, because he was still strapped in. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and trickled down his jawline. He closed his eyes and tried his best to take the blow that was about to follow, yet at the same time he tried to avoid it, to evade it. His body was torn apart by inner strife.

He started to have a seizure as he felt the cold steel land upon his chest, ripping it open and in fright he opened his eyes unvoluntarily, he tried to gasp for breath and erected his upper body.

He stared around a dark room, curtains shut around his bed... a dream... he was still alive... it'd been only a dream...

His chest was wrapped in bandages and so was his forehead, he noticed as he lift his hand and touched it. That was proof he was still alive... but where was this place... the hospital? Probably... oh he couldn't think clearly... he was so tired, he needed to rest.

He let his head crash onto the pillow again and a sharp pain shot through his spine... he shouldn't do THAT again... that was for sure, he closed his eyes, he was too tired to heed the pain.

Aaron found himself standing in an empty room, it was dark, the only source of light a lightbulb, strung on a thin wire from a ceiling that was too high up to see. Suddenly the lightbulb flashed on and revealed a figure in the corner of the room, a human figure.

Aaron walked towards the figure, hoping to find out where the hell he was this time. The further he got to the figure, the further the figure drifted away, always just out of his reach, each time he tried to touch it, it drifted away, as a leaf carried away on an invisible wind.

The figure was barechested and seemed to be hugging himself, nails protruded from his shoulders and blood had trickled down his arms and dried up a long time ago, leaving trails of red along his arms. It looked like the blood could start running again at any instant and drip from his elbows... As soon as Aaron thought this it did and it broke the seemingly endless absence of sound, the dripping echoed through the room as if a thousand taps were leaking at the same time.

Aaron continued staring at the figure's back, something was wrong here. Something was definetly wrong...

Suddenly the man turned around, revealing a faceless head, except for two eyes... no they were not eyes, definitely not eyes... there were two bright white marbles in his eyesockets. The man's bald head reflected some of the light from the lightbulb, making it look like he had a halo.

Aaron gasped and stumbled back, what he thought was the man hugging himself was in fact a straight-jacket, made out of the man's own flesh.

With a moaning sound the thing tried to stand up, but failed and fell on its face. The thing raised its head and pushed itself forward with its feet, slowly making his way towards a terrified Aaron, who found himself backing up into a wall.

He had to get out, get away somehow. He didn't know what the thing was or what it was capable of, then again... he probably didn't WANT to know.

He squinted, then closed his eyes and curled up into a protective ball, the thing crawled on top, choking him, suffocating him...

He opened his eyes again and inhaled as much air as he possibly could. It was sweet, almost intoxicating.

The sheets lay on top of his throat, pushed up by his position... the same position as in his dream. But what had he dreamt?

Judging from the sweat it couldn't have been very pleasant.

He tried stretching... a sharp pain shot through his spine again and this time he was awake enough to heed the pain alright. He grunted and stopped stretching.

Then from the corner of his eye he saw something move, the curtains around his bed were drawn and someone or something had just moved them... There it was again... on the same spot.

Voices, he heard voices, muffled voices, distant voices. There were 2... no 3.

Who were they? What were they discussing?

Could it be him they were talking about?

Then... it came... The sharp sound made his ears ring, the sudden yell... the sudden thud of something relatively soft bang against something relatively hard... more yelling... a door swinging open... hurried footsteps... a curtain being ripped away.

It probably was the Reaper, he was coming for him... for unknown reasons Aaron froze with fear, although he wanted to die.

Then a familiar voice.

"Aaron... you still alive man... talk to me fucking goddamnit!"

Aaron opened his eyes, the bright light hurt them and he tried to turn over without being subjected to excruciating pain.

"Mitchel?" he managed to bring out after some time... his brain seemed to have been slowed down and his tongue seemed made of leather.

"So it IS true... you ARE awake... Damn man I thought you'd never get out of that veggie state!"

"But... but how long?"

"Wha?... how long? At least a fucking week man..."

"A... a... a... wee... a... week?" Aaron's mind failed to fathom what it thought it heard... how could he have been away for a week, without even knowing anything of it? What had he missed in that week? What had happened to him in that week? What had happened to the world in that week?

A week... 7 days... for the first time he understood what relativity meant... 7 days awake seemed like an instant, while 7 days of absence meant an eternity... an eternity in which anything could've happened.

From the halls a series of hurried footsteps echoed and Mitchel looked over his shoulder nervously.

"I think that's my cue to leave man... I'll see you when you get your ass out of here" he called over his shoulder as he ran away through the door and sprinted across the hallways.

"A week?... 7 days?... that long?" Aaron murmured to himself, neglecting the fact that several doctors were about to check up on him. So long... yet so deceptively short... where'd the time gone? He scoffed... he sounded like some retarded old fool, looking back at his younger years... yet he was just 18 and damn unlucky if he made 19...

A week had passed and another would pass, before he would see someone else than doctors.

The Class Rep came to pay him a visit after that week, the Class's Representative, yet he wasn't as grand as the title indicates... he was of small stature, yet he was about the same age as Aaron.

He just dropped by and sat next to Aaron in silence.

"So... so how are you feeling?" Chris, the Class Rep, finally said after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Like I've taken a plummet from the third floor 2 weeks ago" Aaron replied bitterly.

Chris managed a smile, then realised Aaron wasn't joking and hid behind a neutral expression again.

"Any idea when you'll be back in school?"

"No... I'd preffer not going anyway..." Aaron didn't like this... why was he so... so irritable and aggressive towards Chris? Chris'd always been nice to him.

"'Cause of Ed?"

"Yeah... the Slave Driver and his sidekicks..."

"They've been looking for new targets... they might leave you alone now."

"I doubt it...", only now did Aaron notice the bruises and swellings on Chris' face, "they got you too, huh?"

Chris turned away and prepared to leave.

"No... fell from the stairs... well I better get going" he mumbled.

Aaron grabbed his sleeve and tugged it slightly.

"I'll get them for this... If there is a God, I swear to Him I'll make them pay for what they did to you..."

Aaron felt anger rise up inside of him... he didn't give a damn what they did to him, but he wouldn't let his friends suffer the same... He astonished himself by using the word 'friends'... even if it was just in his mind and he let go of Chris' sleeve.

Yes... he'd always had friends... he just failed to realise it... he'd make them pay... make them pay dearly.

He was left alone with his thoughts as Chris hastily left the room.

Another week past... or at least another week... And then she came.

The same girl as he'd seen on the roof, the girl that looked like Galina. She took a seat next to his bed and all went quiet for a while.

"Hey" she managed, while looking at the floor.

"Hey..." Aaron responded.

Another silence, even more uncomfortable this time.

"So... so how are you?" she started again.

Aaron tried to shrug.

"Not too bad... Shoulders are busted for the time being though."

"I'm sorry."

"Huh? Why are you being sorry... it's not YOUR fault you couldn't help it" Aaron was amazed... how could she be sorry?

"But... but... I tried to help you.. and that's where it went wrong."

Aaron was too flabbergasted to respond.

"I can't let them do things like that to you."

"But you don't even know me" Aaron managed to get over his astonishment at last.

"Yes I do... You're Aaron, Aaron McSheffield..." she said.

"You're... you're MY Aaron..." she added under her breath.

"What do you mean YOUR Aaron?" that amazement again... Aaron was ashamed of himself, why couldn't he even have a normal conversation with her?

She blushed and turned away.

"Forget that... it's nothing."

"No tell me... please just tell me... are you crying? You're not crying are you? Please tell me you're not crying."

She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.

"Nah... not really."

"Not really? What happened then?"

"Nothing happened... it's just... they... well... they can't just do this to you... it makes me so mad, frustrated."

Aaron erected himself off his bed painfully and embraced her, a stinging pain shot through his spine, but he didn't care.

She was the first... the first ever to accept him. He couldn't bare seeing her like this, it hurt... hurt like someone stabbed a dagger in his chest, it was nothing compared to the electric shots sent up his spine.

She grabbed the hospital shirt and cried... she just cried.

"It's okay... it's okay" Aaron said to her, his eyes widened... his dream… this was just like in the dream, but that would mean... she.... she'd die. He clinged to her, like a baby would cling to his mother, she was his saviour. She couldn't die, he wouldn't let that happen.

They just sat there for a while, then she pushed him away gently.

"I... I have to go" she said as she stared at the ground.

"Oh..." Aaron was disappointed, why'd she have to go now? WHY?

"I can't come anymore either..." she said still not looking at him.

"WHAT? Why not?" Aaron could feel the world crumbling away around him.

"I... I can't come here anymore... it's... my... my mom..."

Aaron stared at the wall as he let his head tilt backwards, resting it against the wall, he closed his eyes, he couldn't cry... not now.... not with her around.

Then suddenly he felt her draw near, he could feel her warmth, he could feel her kissing his cheek. But before he could open his eyes she was gone, she'd sped out the room.

He could feel the warmth just remain in that spot for a while, as if the warmth had lingered on. Carefully he raised his hand to touch his cheek, in wonder he stared at the tops of his fingers as he lowered it again.

Two weeks later he was released from hospital, or rather they were unable to contain him any longer. He started to loathe the place, hate every niche and corner found in that forsaken building, where they'd robbed him of his dream... yet where he had found another dream... a new one.

He'd forced himself to swallow his pain and go back to school again, his shoulders were still bandaged, nothing much they could do about it, just support it with bandages. He'd seen her again a few times in the halls, but he was too scared to approach her. He had tried... and he had failed.

Ed found out and decided to use it against him too, so he wouldn't only have to face his own torture, but hers as well. It was almost too much to bare.

And then... that fateful day, he approached her, he swallowed hard.

"H-H-H-hey" he stuttered.

She shifted her weight on her feet uncomfortably and looked at the ground.

"Hey" she whispered more than she said.

"Uhm..." Aaron scratched the back of his head uncomfortably "I uh... I ehm... I was wondering if you'd like to uhm... like come over to my place this afternoon, maybe, perhaps"

She looked at him, with a slight amazed look in her eyes.

Aaron looked away, trying not to let their eyes cross, but he couldn't help it, they just wandered back on their own, like a mouse being led to cheese through a maze, he couldn't escape those eyes. Those deep-green eyes.

"Well... if you have nothing better to do of course" he added, thinking he should at least say SOMETHING to get over this void of silence.

"Yeah... I'd like that" she said as she looked away again.

Then from behind Aaron a familiar voice bellowed: "well, well, well our little pooch found himself a ***** to accompany him."

Aaron turned around abruptly, facing Ed.

Ed simply ignored him and moved past him, walking up to her. Aaron lift his hand to stop him, but Ed's goons dissuaded him from doing so, by 'gently tapping' his shoulder. Aaron kneeled in agony as pain shot through his entire body.

"She's too good for you, ain't she?" Ed said as he turned around, looking down at the kneeling Aaron. Aaron looked up at him, his face a mixture of rage, hatred, agony and pain.

Ed wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Now tell me... what's your name?" he asked her, bringing his face close to hers.

"Go to hell" she replied, not facing him.

"Go to hell... such a crude name for someone such as yourself."

She faced him in a look of utter hatred.

"Hey what the fuck do you think you're doing to my sister?" a voice suddenly yelled from across the halls. Ed faced in the direction of the voice, as did Aaron. He saw a large, muscular, young man run towards them. The epitome of goth.

He ran at them at full speed, his long, black coat trailing behind him, much like his long, black hair did.

He joined them in what seemed like an instant and even faster he let his gloved hand make contact with Ed’s face, which twisted horribly and Ed fell down after he had spun a circle.

Out cold with one hit, Aaron stared at the guy in a mixture of reverance and astonishment.

The guy simply turned to the goons, who were about to run off. He grabbed them both by the collar and forced them to the wall with their faces.

“Now next time you SHITHEADS lay a finger on MY sister” he really emphasized the words ‘shitheads’ and ‘my’, shouting them through the hallways” I WON’T let you get off this easy… ”,again with the emphasis on ‘won’t’,” understand?”

The goons simply nodded in fright, rubbing their faces against the wall.

The guy grabbed them by the hair instead of the collar and forced them back to Aaron, who at that time had managed to get up.

“Now I want you two to apologise” the guy went on.

The goons swallowed hard, but didn’t speak.

“I TOLD YOU TO APOLOGISE” the guy bellowed.

“Sorry” the goons muttered.

The guy let go and they ran off, leaving Ed behind, still out cold.

“You okay?” the guy asked Aaron, a completely different person than before.

“Yeah… I will be in a sec.”

“Good. And you sis?”

“I’ll be fine…” she replied.

“Good. Now are you going to introduce me to your friend yet, Sarah?” the guy said, tilting his head slightly and a smile crept on his face, with it’s broad chin and strong jawline, he towered over the rest of the students easily, Aaron noticed, standing at least 6 feet tall.

“Of course” his sister, Aaron’s savior replied. So Sarah was her name, huh? Aaron liked the sound of that. “This is Aaron, bro.”

Her brother stretched his hand and Aaron shook it slowly.

“Travis, here” he added, directing his warm smile at Aaron.

Chapter 4: Running with the pack

That day seemed to creep by ever so slowly, hours seemed to be days on their own and minutes seemed to be hours. Aaron just couldn’t keep his head at classes. He’d finally done it… he’d finally talked to her, he finally asked her to come over.

Then after at long last the bell of the last period had chimed, Ed and his goons hadn’t even bothered him anymore. Maybe he was still out cold, Aaron smirked at the prospect.

He caught up with Sarah at the point they’d decided to meet, after the ‘incident’, as Aaron reffered to it in his mind.

Surprisingly Travis was also waiting there.

“Hey there… thought I’d accompany you to make sure that idiot won’t try anything” he said, smiling.

“Uhm… yeah… thanks” Aaron replied, slightly blushing, no one had offered to help him except for Mitchel, he felt uneasy at the idea that suddenly others cared for him… for HIM no less.

“So shall we?” Travis asked politely, bending stiffly at the waist. Actually… he had a lot in common with Mitchell.

Sarah and Aaron walked up front, Travis following shortly thereafter. Sarah, slightly blushing, sought for his hand with hers and held it gently. Aaron blushed and swallowed hard, he felt uneasy… again… or maybe still.

But he couldn’t let go of her hand, not even if he had wanted to, he just held on, clinged to it. Until they reached his home…well home was too good a word fur such a dump. The entrance looked even worse in the daylight and the outter view of the building could scare off most people, people with better places to live.

Sarah seemed reluctant to get inside, understandable Aaron thought to himself, understandable and predictable. He grinned slightly, but hid it again when he realised what he was doing. He escorted the both of them upstairs, Travis followed loyally, like a dog. Yet he didn’t seem the very least bit put off by the circumstances, in fact he just looked at it, expressionless… no more like he was contemplating, Aaron didn’t give it much thought. He didn’t really care for whatever Travis could be thinking, couldn’t care and wouldn’t care.

Aaron opened the door, it tended to get stuck, as it did now. Aaron gestured Sarah to enter, Travis followed her and immediately put the matrass back on the floor and made himself comfortable. Aaron was too baffled to say anything about it.

Instead he just got the only chair he had and offered it to Sarah, she declined though and took a seat next to Travis.

Aaron sat in the chair himself, he placed it backwards and let his arms rest on the back of the chair. Then… quiet… nothing, no conversation, no nothing.

“You two want a drink?” Aaron asked to break the void.

“Yes, please” Sarah said.

“Sure” Travis replied “what’ve you got?”

“Nothing much I’m afraid… I got” Aaron walked over to the fridge and had a quick look inside, pausing for a second “Coke, Juice, Jager and beer.”

“Beer, please” Travis said dryly.

Aaron didn’t answer for a second, instead he grabbed the carton of juice and smelled at it.

“On second thought… I don’t have juice” he said with a disgusted face. He chucked the carton in the garbage bin and opened a bottle of beer for Travis.

“A coke then please.”

Aaron opened the single cupboard that even had a door to open and got out the glass that seemed the cleanest and opened the tap, the water ran brown as usual, it’d take some time for it to get clear… or rather as clear as it was gonna get, he gave the glass a quick rinse and then filled it up with Coke.

He returned with the two beer and the coke and handed them to their recipients, he took a long gulp from his and nearly drained half the bottle in one go.

Then suddenly the door opened again and someone came in. Both Travis and Sarah were slightly amazed by the fact that someone just walked in and was now even rummaging in the fridge, but Aaron didn’t seem the slightest bit worried.

“Hey Mitch” he simply muttered.

“Hey man… who’re the strays?” Mitchel replied, victoriously grinning with his trophy, a beer, in hand.

“The girl’s Sarah, the guy’s Travis.”

“You two BOTH live here?” Travis suddenly intervened.

“Nah…” both Aaron and Mitchel said simultaneously, they grinned at each other, knowing how odd it must’ve looked to the ‘uninitiated’.

“I don’t live nowhere” Mitchel then replied.

“Hmm…” Travis’ answer was.

“What are you thinking of bro?” Sarah eyed him quizzically.

“So… you don’t live anywhere?” Travis asked, pointing at Mitchel.

“And you… live… in this… uhm… whatever it is” he then added towards Aaron, after Mitchel nodded.

“Seems so.”

“Tell me what you’re planning bro?” Sarah asked again.

“OK… hold your horses… first of all, why do you call him bro? You don’t look related in any way. Second of all what the fuck are you on about goth-guy?” Mitchel asked, slightly annoyed with the secrecy.

“Nothing… yet” Travis said, smirking slightly.

“Come on goth-boy, let us share in the laughter, because obviously it’s rather good” Mitchel went on, more determined than just before.

Sarah eyed Mitchel up, then did the same for Travis.

“Nah… can’t say anything yet. I need to check some shit out first.”

Travis, then prepared to rise.

“Well any of you got plans for dinner?” he asked, dusting his pants.

“No, why?” Aaron asked.

Mitchel simply replied by lifting an eyebrow and taking another gulp from his beer.

“Interested in joining me?”

The rest of the day seemed like a dream to both Aaron and Mitchel. Travis lived in one of the largest houses they’d ever seen. According to him it was left to him by his now dead parents, but far from being an empty, desolate place it was sort of like a orphanage.

"You know... this is probably one of the first times I've been in this room" Travis said after they'd settled down in a luxurious room, books piled up in large cases along 3 of the four walls, the door being in he fourth.

Aaron smirked slightly, dust covered most of the book's backs and he couldn't read any of the titles.

"Mind if I take a look?" he asked as he rose from his chair.

Travis lift his hand, gesturing 'go ahead'.

He walked to the case across the room and ran a finger over the tops of the books, stopping at a random one with a seemingly crimson cover. He wiped the dust off the back with his sleeve and tilted the book so he could see it's front.

Nothing, the cover was empty. Aaron was about to open it, when suddenly a short, sharp tap from the wooden door resonated into the room, he put the book back and looked at the door.

"Jeez, don't be so formal, get in already" Travis shouted, not even bothering to look at whoever might be entering.

Aaron saw a short guy walk in and it took him a while to recognise him, but as he turned Aaron's way, he knew for sure who the short guy was.

"Chris?"

"Aaron?" both Aaron and the short guy asked at the same time. Aaron realised he was looking at the class rep and clearly Chris had realised he was looking at Aaron.

"I was about to introduce the two of you to each other, but clearly you've already met", Travis said as he stood up and positioned himself somewhat in between the two, " know tell me... why'd you knock?"

Chris looked at Travis confused, not quite seeming to know what he talked about.

"You only knock when something shitty just happened, remember?" Travis said with a grin.

"He's here again..." Chris answered, looking from Travis to Aaron, worried.

"Shit!" Travis exclaimed and he balled his left hand to a fist.

He made his way out of the room with powerful strides, leaving the door open behind him.

Aaron, not knowing what else to do followed him, half-running to be able to keep up.

Travis, undisturbed, continued his way towards the opened double doors that functioned as the front door.

"What the hell do you want this time?" he bellowed down the hall, he blocked Aaron's view of the recipients.

Arriving near the recipients Travis stopped and now Aaron had clear view of who he'd been yelling at. A man, dressed in a black business suit, with accompanying suitcase stood inside, gazing around the hallway as if nothing was wrong.

"I asked you what the hell you were doing here" Travis shouted at the man.

The man still didn't reply.

"Listen to me, white-collar worker" Travis began again, pushing his index finger against the man's chest "I'm not going to go back there, not now, not tomorrow, not ever."

"I'm not here to tell you, you need to go back behind bars" the man said and quietly he added: "although you belong there."

"I'm here to check up on the financial situation of the structure and its management."

"Financial situation? My parents fucking left me a few billion, what do you expect of the financial situation?"

"Then that's clearly in order, but I still haven't seen anything of the management of this establishment" the man continued.

"You're talking to the management!" Travis bellowed.

Aaron just stood back, not knowing what to do, he started to feel angry, clearly Travis was defending something good here, whoever that deskworker was, he'd better not try to do any harm...

"Then I can clearly call it inadequate" the man said as calm as the rest.

Travis grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him with ease, clearly the man had now lost his calmness as a wet stain emerged in between his legs. Aaron couldn't see Travis' face right now, but he could imagine the strong features distorted in anger.

"NOW LISTEN TO ME, WHITE-COLLAR. MANAGEMENT IS ADEQUATE AND I'M NOT GONNA GIVE THIS PLACE UP" Travis shouted in the man's face, who dropped his suitcase and tried to wriggle from Travis' grasp.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO WITH THEM?" Travis continued, the man squealed.

Travis seemed to calm down and he dropped the man to the floor.

"I'm not letting them go back to those goddamn things you call parents... I won't" Travis said and he turned around.

Aaron's imagination wasn't far off from Travis' currently displayed emotion, but he seemed to have calmed down a little... So it would probably have been even worse.

Neither Aaron, nor Travis seemed to notice that the man had grabbed his suitcase and had run off again, literally.

Sarah and Chris hurried down the hallway towards them.

"What happened, we heard shouting" she asked concerned.

"Nothing" Travis exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Chris immediately backed off to let Travis through and with great strides Travis continued his way, up the stairs they had encountered two times now, once when going to the book-room and another when Aaron and Travis went back to the front door.

Travis walked up the stairs rapidly and took a right at the top, Aaron prepared to walk after him, but Sarah grabbed his arm.

“It’s better to leave him right now” she said, not looking at him.

“I can’t… I need to help him” he answered.

Sarah looked up at him with shimmering eyes, “please”, she pleaded him.

Aaron looked up the stairs one more time and then at her, the adrenaline from the previous experience were still in his veins and he was determined to go up there to Travis.

“You can scold me later” he said and he turned away, up the stairs and then to the right.

He found himself in a hallway, doors everywhere and suddenly everything began to spin.

Aaron grabbed his head and groaned, falling to his knees.

The world spun endlessly and it made him sick, round and round and round it went, walls, floor, ceiling, all blurring.

He closed his eyes and did his best to stay awake, when suddenly a pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders and the pain brought him back to his senses. He followed the hands to the arms, the arms to the shoulders and the shoulders to the neck and… no… it couldn’t be… there was no face. No! That was impossible.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, slowly he reopened them, at last… there was a face.

“You okay” a familiar voice asked him, but his vision was still too blurry to see the details of the face.

“Yeah I’m fine” Aaron tried to say, but he seemed to stumble over his own words.

“Yeah I’m fine” he tried again, this time with more success.

“You don’t sound too convincing” the voice said again and Aaron felt himself being lift up and supported.

“I can walk on my own, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

Aaron couldn’t even hear the floor boards squeak, he was either too numb or the floorboards were too good. He did hear the steps of the stairs creak, though, every single step they creaked.

“You people DO have couches here don’t you?” the voice asked again and Aaron slowly realised it had to be Michael supporting him.

“Yeah of course, over there” a worried, girl’s voice said, Sarah, he realised.

“What happened?” she asked after Michael had basically dropped Aaron on the couch.

“Low blood pressure, don’t take stress and shit too great” Aaron replied and he digged in his pocket, getting out a battered pack of cigarettes. He took one out and put it in his mouth, his dry lips stuck to the filter, like they always did and he took the cig out again to wet his lips and get the lighter from the pack as well. He put the cig back in his mouth and lit it, the sharp sensation caressed his tongue and filled his throat and lungs as he inhaled.

“Now to find an ash tray” he muttered under his breath as he let the cigarette dangle in between his fingers.

Michael threw half of a tin can towards Aaron and he could barely catch it with one hand.

“Thanks” he said and he tapped the end of his cigarette into the makeshift ash tray, the ashes floating on air, ever downwards.

“You’re welcome.”

“Uhm… Aaron…” Sarah began slowy, hesitating slightly.

Aaron looked at her, inhaling another time.

“Why do you smoke?” she asked, not exactly looking at him.

Aaron shrugged and blew out a cloud of smoke.

“It helps calm me down” he said, not exactly knowing what he was talking about himself.

“But it’s bad for you… it can kill you” she continued.

“We all die in the end, anyway” Aaron replied.

“But I don’t want you to smoke… it worries me” Sarah said as she looked at him directly, tears welling up in her eyes.

In response Aaron dropped the cigarette to the floor and stomped on it with his boot, then picked up the biggest remnants and deposited them in the tin can. After that he slowly got up and put the tin can aside.

He took a step towards Sarah and she had to look up slightly to look into his eyes. Aaron wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, bringing his mouth to next to her ear.

“I’ll stop” he whispered “for you… just don’t cry, okay? It doesn’t suit you.”

She sniffed for a last time and Aaron let go of her. He wiped some of the tears from her face with his hand, as gently as he could.

“You two lovebirds hungry?” Mitchel interrupted them.

“’Cause this small fry’s said dinner’s ready, like 5 times already” he added, pointing at Chris.

Sarah looked at him uneasy and smiled.

”Yeah I am kinda hungry… where’s Travis?” she asked.

“Upstairs” Chris answered.

“I’ll get him” Sarah volunteered.

“I’ll come with you” Aaron said hastily as he took a step forward.

They went up the stairs hand in hand and passed the perfectly cleaned hallways with the perfect wooden doors, until they reached a door that seemed too out of place.

Sarah gave a short, sharp tap on the door and said: “dinner’s ready Travis, you coming?”

No response.

She tapped again and repeated her question.

“I don’t think this is working” Aaron said and he reached for the knob, preparing to open the door.

Sarah grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t… bro likes his privacy” she said, shaking her head.

“Okay” Aaron replied and he let go of the knob, she turned around and headed for the stairs again.

“I’ll be down in a sec” Aaron called after her as he reached for the knob again, twisted it and opened the black door. He stared into a seemingly speckless room, with white plaster on the wall and it seemed a little too bright for his eyes to handle. Yet as his eyes grew accustomed to the brightness he noticed that on the walls there were small, circular stains. 4 of them, a soft red, lined up together. And the mirror on the right-hand wall was shattered, reflecting the opposite wall in a prism-like way.

As he looked around more Aaron noticed that the seemingly empty room, except for the mirror and a snadbag hanging from the ceiling, was far from speckless. The plaster was cracked and crumbling on some places and the paint on the window sill was letting go of the rotten wood underneath.

Travis sat huddled in a corner, staring at a picture-sized scrap of paper.

“Aaron, what are you doing?” Sarah suddenly said from behind Aaron.

“Getting Travis” he answered dryly.

“You coming Travis?” he said to the huddled figure in the corner.

Travis looked up from his picture and stood up slowly.

“Yeah sure… what for?” he asked, kind of dazed.

“Dinner, maybe?”

“Yeah… I’ll be right there. Just need an aspirin” Travis said, looking at his ungloved left-hand, he repeatedly bent and stretched his fingers, grimacing every time.

“What’d you do to that hand of yours?” Aaron asked.

“Must’ve happened while punching that guy in the face or something” Travis asnwered as he shrugged and walked towards them.

But Aaron wasn’t referring to that, he was reffering to all the scars on the back of Travis’ hand. And as Travis came close enough he grabbed the hand, making Travis wince.

“I meant these” Aaron said, pointing at the scars.

“I’m a clutz, I drop shit and hurt my hands. Okay?” Travis said as he tore his hand from Aaron’s grip and walked past him.

Aaron turned around quickly and grabbed Travis by the shoulder.

“Not okay” he said decisively “that’s not caused by your average clumsyness.”

Travis, clearly getting agitated broke free from Aaron’s grip once more and walked off.

“I bit my skin off while in prison… happy now? There’s 3 hundred and sixty fucking five of ‘em. One for every day of the last year there, ‘cause they found out I cut. I got a scar for eveyr goddamn day spent there” he said as he stopped and hung his head.

“What the fuck did you do there?”

“Do my time… d’uh” Travis replied as he turned around, cutting Aaron’s sentence off.

“Got tried for fucking manslaughter because that fucking goddamn bastard DROVE HER TO FUCKING GODDAMN DEATH AND I FUCKING KICKED HIM ‘TILL HE EXHALED HIS LAST GODDAMN FUCKING BREATH!” he bellowed afterwards and he turned around again, resuming his previous way, down the stairs towards what should be the dining hall.

Aaron and Sarah followed at some distance, but Travis seemed to have calmed down.

Aaron searched for Sarah's hand and found it, he squeezed it gently and then just held it, he looked down at her besides him and followed her lead to the dining room.

Upon arriving at the dining room Aaron's jaw was about to drop to the ground, but it wouldn't reach further than his mouth would open. Chris, Mitchel and Travis were already seated, along with some people he didn't know, everyone sat at a long oval table, layed out with plates, cutlery and wine glasses.

"Come on" Sarah urged him as she took a seat, like all the others it was one of those seats in dark wood, with high backs and with leather cushions.

Sarah was kind of struggling to get her chair closer to the table, so without thinking Aaron just walked over to her and lift the chair with her in it and put it closer.

"Th... Thank you" Sarah uttered, kind of embarassed.

"Y... Yeah" Aaron replied and he took the seat next to her.

"Now that we're all here, let's eat" Travis said as he took the lid off the pan closest to him, only now did Aaron notice they were filed up in the middle of the table.

"So you guys don't say grace then?" Aaron asked under his breath, looking at Travis.

Suddenly Travis' arm wiped away the wine glass in front of him splattering the contents over the floor and the wall as the glass shattered.

"No one is going to say grace... NO ONE is going to thank that fucking bastard for anything... NO ONE is going to mention him, not within these goddamn walls" he bellowed.

"So... sorry" Aaron said, startled by the outburst, he now knew what the lawyer had felt when he got lifted by Travis. He now knew what face the man had seen.

The rest of the dinner was rather uneventful, although both Aaron and Travis were silent most of the time.

When the table had been cleared Aaron was still in his seat, the only one at the immense table, looking defeated.

“What the fuck’s happened to Travis in the past?” he whispered to himself.

Then he felt Sarah wrap her arms around him, or rather he saw she did, his body was numb and he hardly seemed to notice, he was too lost in thought.

“He trusts you, you know. I think he likes you” she whispered in his ear.

Aaron didn’t respond.

“He’s already told you more than most of us and I’ve known him for years” she added.

“No… he hates me” Aaron finally said after he had gently guided Sarah’s wrists and arms away from him and he stood up “it’s what I deserve. I shouldn’t pry so much.”

He turned around and looked at her, her fine features, her delicate little eyes and the hair that topped it off like a painting’s frame. She was beautiful, she was kind, she was… Too good for him.

“Are you okay?” she asked and Aaron caught himself gawking.

“Uhm… yeah” Aaron lied, smiling.

She didn’t buy it and she embraced him.

“You can tell me anything, okay?” she said, resting her cheek on his chest so she could listen to his heart.

Aaron didn’t say anything, he just wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“I love you” he finally uttered, somewhat awkwardly, but it was fine that way, she understood.

All of a sudden his head started throbbing and he had to let go of Sarah, he had to try and make sure his head wouldn’t split open and spill his brain on the floor, or at least that’s what it felt like to him.

Sarah backed off, afraid and she ran, screaming something Aaron couldn’t hear.

He grabbed his head and sank to his knees, closing his eyes. In his mind he saw two glowing yellow orbs… no eyes, eyes the size of fists, surrounded by shimmering emerald scales, that’s all he could make out as the instant had passed, along with the image.

And as Aaron opened his eyes again he saw his former adoptive parents before him in the pitchblack darkness, both of them crucified. Aaron couldn’t help but feel relieved, they wouldn’t beat him now, wouldn’t treat him as inferior. No… they still did that, they were suspended above him, they were still looking down on him.

Aaron wanted their eyes to burn out of their sockets and as he willed it, they did.

“Well done, young one” he heard himself say from all around him.

“Who’s there?” Aaron shouted in reply.

In response the bodies vanished and he saw the eyes again, along with the scales.

He was staring at a dragon’s head!

“I am you, you are me. But you can call me Thanriel” the dragon answered in Aaron’s voice.

“Aaron! Aaron!” it suddenly echoed from the darkness, that was Sarah.

“Go to her, we’ll talk again some other time” Thanriel said and he vanished.

Aaron heard voices again, from the darkness they seemed to call to him.

“Holy shit!” one exclaimed, Travis probably.

“You see them too?” a girl asked, he recognised her as Sarah.

“Yeah, this shit ain’t normal, we’d better take him to the Coven, they know more of this shit than I do.”

‘Coven? COVEN?! I’m not going to a fucking Coven, not again!’ Aaron thought to himself.

He jerked himself upright and opened his eyes, but half-way he hit something with his head.

“Jesus fucking Christ” Travis yelled as both him and Aaron grabbed their heads.

“Sorry” Aaron muttered as he shook his head and blinked a couple of times.

“I’ll survive, supposedly I’m pretty hard-headed” Travis replied.

“I noticed” Aaron added under his breath.

“I heard that… now… mind telling is what the hell went on back there?”

Aaron let go of his head, realising that he was on the same couch as last time he passed out.

“What do you mean?”

“One… you passed out completely. Two… you sprouted goddamn wings!”

“Wings? Ridiculous” Aaron said as he touched his shoulderblades, there was nothing there, of course.

“Your aura changed” Sarah added.

“What the hell?”

“Listen Aaron” Travis intervened ”there’s more between Heaven and Hell than this godforsaken dirtball planet. First magic does exist, second people have aura’s that show their true natures, third…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know all that already” Aaron interrupted “I’m wondering how the hell my aura changed.”

“Spirits do ex... wait? You know? How?”

“My former adoptive foster parents were in a Coven, they focused on Druidic magic and lore. I, on the other hand, wasn’t good enough for that… so… I taught myself. Apparently, though, I’d been studying a so called Abolished class of magic called Diabolics.

“It was well worth it, though. My first real friend was a lesser demon, a mischievous one at that. Well… at least untill my so-called parents killed him. I’d summoned him by accident and he seemed to stick around, he liked me, I liked him, it all worked out.”

“Banished” Sarah corrected him.

“What?”

“You can’t kill demons that easily, not even lesser ones, unless you’re extremely powerful… well that or being some kind of demon yourself. Remember that town that got blown to smithereens?” Travis started.

“Yeah, wasn’t that a gas leak or something?”

“Far from it… was a mage that tried to kill a demon, she failed, the demon retaliated and they could sweep all of the itty-bitty pieces together with brooms. Entire town gone, in a split second it was all over. Like detonating a damn atom-bomb.”

Aaron swallowed hard, rather shaken by the news.

“It was horrible to watch, even on TV I could see the aura’s scatter all over the place, blown to bits along with the bodies” Sarah muttered in horror, staring at the ground.

“It’s alright sis, I won’t let it happen here, not again. I haven’t joined the Coven for nothing…” Travis said as he put a hand on her shoulder and gently applied some pressure.

“What happened?” Aaron asked.

“She used to live near there… she saw the smoke rise up from the flames, she saw the debris scatter across the sky, she saw the whole damn thing. She even saw the damn demon” Travis explained.

“Dragon” Sarah whispered.

“What?” Aaron, beat Travis to it.

“Dragon” she repeated “not a demon, a dragon… Obsidian dragon, horrible, spikes everywhere.”

Aaron blinked and for a second he could see a giant, Obsidian-coloured dragon lie in a crater at least twice as large as itself, it’s tail wrapped around what seemed to look like an shifting spire of a fluid of some sort. He shook his head.

“Raniah” he heard a voice whisper.

“What?” he said looking at Travis.

“I didn’t say anything…” Travis answered.

“Oh…”

“Why? What did you hear?”

“Thought I heard someone say Raniah” Aaron said dryly and he shrugged, but as he pronounced the name the image of the dragon flashed before his eyes.

“The dragon… I think it was called Raniah” he said after a short silence.

“It was called what?” Travis asked, baffled.

“Listen… when I passed out, I saw my foster parents, crucified, but as they disappeared a draconic head appeared before me, it introduced itself as Thanriel, well he actually. But anyway… I think he knows something about this Raniah… thing.”

“You SAW a dragon? In a vision?” Sarah asked, staring at Aaron with wet eyes.

“Yes… I saw him, but he wasn’t like that Raniah-menace. He was kind, he was emerald-green. He talked to me, I think he’s been watching over me.”

“No… dragons are evil, they don’t watch over people. They KILL people, maim them, torture them. They’re EVIL, demonic beings that live for no other purpose than killing, maiming and hurting others” Sarah yelled as she started to cry.

Aaron backed away from her, it’d probably be best if he left her alone.

“I’m sorry… I’ll leave now… I doubt you want anything to do with me right now…” he then said as he watched Sarah cry for an instant or two, he then left the room, heading for the front door.

He went outside and just sat there, for a while, just sat there, staring into the twilight that seemed to blur into darkness. Sat there, on the stairs up to the front porch.

He didn’t notice anyone opening the door, he didn’t notice the shadow cast over him, he didn’t even notice someone sat next to him.

Instead he just removed the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and in turn removed a cigarette from the pack, lighting it with the lighter he also stored on the pack. He inhaled deeply and enjoyed the sharp taste, the sharp sensation in his throat and lungs, as the nicotine slowly infiltrated every fiber of his being.

“I thought you quit” Sarah suddenly asked, she sat next to him.

“Sorry…” Aaron answered, not looking at her, but instead taking another draw from his cigarette, the small orange ring radiated strongly in the darkness.

She took the cigarette as it dangled from his mouth and muttered something Aaron couldn’t make out. Suddenly the smouldering cigarette turned into a small ball of fire and Sarah held it in her hands.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen something like that” Aaron said, kind of surprised.

“The Coven reffers to me as their little Firestarter” Sarah said as she shrugged “though it’s weird… the combination is just weird.”

“What combination?”

“Never mind…”

“Okay” Aaron knew something was wrong, he could hear it in her voice, it trembled slightly.

“So what happened with that dragon?” Sarah asked, her voice still trembling.

“Nothing much, we talked for a moment or two. Though I can tell you he didn’t like what you said about dragons back there, I could feel he disagreed… a hell of a lot. I think dragons are individuals, much like humans. Just like demons are.”

“Yeah… Travis and the Coven have been trying to teach me that too. He knew that I hated dragons, he didn’t know I saw the dragon in that town… and not a demon. Everyone always assumed it was a demon, so I blamed it on my ignorance and inexperience… but I know what I saw…”

Aaron wrapped his arm around her and held her close.

“I believe you.”

She rest her head on his shoulder and sighed.

“I don’t like Covens…” Aaron said after a while of just sitting there.

“Why?”

“My foster-parents I think… Don’t know… Anyway… I’m not going to them.”

“What? Why? They might be able to find out what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong… Thanriel just appeared, that’s all. And he’s not malevolent, or at least I don’t think so… I heard the doctors say that I was lucky to have survived, they thought I was asleep. It was like something had broken my fall… I think it was Thanriel that did.”

“What’s that got to do with the Coven?”

Aaron didn’t answer, he didn’t want to continue the conversation.

“Please go… they might be able to help you with magic too.”

Aaron still didn’t answer.

“Please… just go for me” she then said, tugging his sleeve slightly.

“They scare me… I’m damn near shitting my pants in fear, ‘cause of them…” he finally said.

“But they’re not like other Coven.”

“And why would that be?” Aaron asked snidely, a little too snidely he realised in hindsight.

Sarah let go of his sleeve and put her hands on her knees, after tugging the rim of her shirt nervously for a second.

“Well… they’re reffered to as… Ronin and Clanless and Renegades and Hollows… depending on what Coven you ask, basically they’re exiles from other Coven, or people that haven’t been excepted in a Coven and don’t want to be for that matter.”

“Then who leads it? If they’re renegades and what not, who leads the Coven?”

“No one does, the Coven exists because there is no leader, merely advisors. People more experienced than you are” Travis suddenly said from behind the two.

“You could call the Illusionist our peace-keeper though… if you cause trouble, you’ll disappear from the Coven, some of them even had to be admitted to the asylum, but those instances were rare” Sarah said, smiling.

“The Illusionist… Is he some kind of super-hero then?” Aaron asked, grinning in disbelief.

“No… he’s either a mute or he doesn’t talk… So they call him the Illusionist, because of the magic he uses” Sarah said, glancing down, turning red in the cheeks a little.

“And you could call Nadia the chief-advisor, though she speaks with a forked tongue at times” Travis added.

“And why doesn’t anyone know of the Coven then? Why didn’t I know of this Coven?” Aaron asked, baffled.

“Oh that’s easy, we call ourselves the Shadow-Hand and well… the result and methods are pretty obvious, we weave like a shadow through everyday life” Sarah said cheerfully, illustrating the weaving part by making her hand make wavey patterns in the air.

“So… you going with us tomorrow?” Travis asked as he leaned against the wall just next to the door.

“Get rid of your anxiety

There’s nothing there to be

Get rid of all your views

There’s nothing there to do” Aaron softly recited.

“What?”

“Nothing… just a song I like.”

“Oh, oh Final Fusion, right?” Sarah asked equally cheerful as her previous remark.

“Yeah… why?”

“I love them. I like Angel Without Wings a lot” she says, slightly tilting her head and smiling.

Appendix

Indoctri-Nation

Indoctri-Nation

Syringe of information

Injects our nation

Indoctri-Nation

Overflow of information

Kills your concentration

Indoctri-Nation

All of the misinformation

Annihilates civilisation

Indoctri-Nation

The drug of information

Addicts new generations

Indoctri-Nation

The useless information:

Mental degeneration

Indoctri-Nation

Satan’s information

Or Jesus of our generation?

Indoctri-Nation

Too much information

Clouds our communication

Angel Without Wings

Last time you tried to fly

You didn't get too high

Instead you fell back down

Smashed into the ground

Let me clip your wings

You don't need those things

An angel that can't fly

Might as well die

You acted so superior

But life got so much scarier

With your feet on the ground

And enemies all around

Let me clip your wings

You don't need those things

An angel that can't fly

Might as well die

Now you're one of us

No one that you trust

And no one trusting you

No matter what you do

Now I clipped your wings

Now you lost those things

Now that you can't fly

Go ahead and die

New Lifestyle

Get rid of your anxiety

There’s nothing there to be

Get rid of all your views

There’s nothing there to do

Get drunk on the booze

‘Cause you got nothing to lose

Get high on cocaine

‘Cause you got nothing to gain

Get rid of all your fears

‘Cause there’s nothing here

Get rid of all your pain

There’s nothing to restrain

Adapt to a new way of life

Get rid of all your inner strife

So get your new pact made

Which will change how you relate

Get up do today’s SI

There’s reason enough to die

Get to steal some shit

‘Cause you’ll gain from it

Get up and burn some

‘Cause nothing can be done

Get to cut yourself some slack

There’s nothing to want back

Get to feed your addiction

‘Cause it’s not an affliction

Get up and start a fight

There’s no one who is right

Adapt to a new way of life

Get rid of all your inner strife

So get your new pact made

Which will change how you relate

Adopted a new way of life

Got rid of all your inner strife

So you got your pact made

Did it change how you relate?