Chapter 2: Of a Crazed God’s Vendetta

          I woke with a start, sweating from every pore on my face and I could feel that it at had dampened my pillow and my chest. I had no idea what I was afraid of at the time, nor could I remember the nightmare that had startled me. There was only the light rapping on the window from the large and disgusting tree outside. I had found myself sitting straight up, breathing heavily, both hands grabbing onto the sheets. Finally, after a few seconds and studying every corner for whatever monster had graced my mind, I calmed down. I looked at the clock. Its read beams of light told me the message that I was urged to hear:

9:50 PM

         I wanted to go back to bed, to go to bed with no bad dreams although I knew that it wouldn't happen. Instead, I moved my legs so I was sitting on the edge of my queen-sized bed and put my hands on the outsides of my legs so they rested on the edge of the bed. My breathing grew harsher and raspier until finally I coughed. Air escaped my lungs and it wouldn't come back home while I started trying to clutch my chest to keep it in. That eventually settled too, and that only left my black hair hanging in front of me. I moved it from in front of my face in an attempt to clear my vision although it was almost pitch black.
          "I'm never going to get used to this," I said to no one in particular. Not that anyone would have heard me in the first place, but I found it soothing to say those words anyway. Turning my head, slightly, I could see the outline of a frame resting on the same table of the alarm clock. The two silhouettes were in a position that relayed happiness and eternal love. Even though I could not pick out the details, I knew who the two people were. I picked up the picture and studied it for a bit. "My dear Jessica; How I would have loved you..."A slight laughter out flowed from my throat and I immediately started coughing again.
         "Why am I laughing now?” I tried screaming. All that came out though was a dark whisper that seemed to strain everything in my body. A sharp knocking on the front door made me snap my head towards the sound. I set the picture back on the dresser, wondering why anyone would be out at this hour. Stepping quietly through the kitchen and almost past the living room, I stopped. The only light that shone in the entire house appeared in this room, and I found it ironic that that was the only place that I dare not go in my small house on the outskirts of Oregon. The knock became louder and it took me from my slight trance.
         "Wait a second, I'm coming!" I yelled. I approached the door and reached for the knob, stopping for a moment to think. Next to the front door was the hallway closet, with nothing but an overcoat and a small box. I opened it quickly, taking a revolver from the box and put the gun in the back of my pants. I peered through the peephole and in seeing nothing, cursed and began to leave. I didn't take three steps before I heard the knocking again. The force of it shook the whole door and I put my right hand near the gun, ready to blow the guy's head off. I approached the door and opened it slightly.
         I hadn't noticed it while I slept in my near windowless room, but it was raining quite heavily and at some distance, lightning was striking the ground. I turned my head to the left, after seeing no one, and noticed a man sitting on the bench on the outside. He was dressed in suit jacket, dress pants, slacks, and a top hair that covered his long blonde hair. "Beautiful day isn't it?" he asked.
         "What do you want?" I asked, having opened the door all the way, my bravery rising in those few moments, and I leaned my body on the frame of the doorway.
"You should never try to answer a question with another question," he stated. Standing up, I could see that           he was at my height and when I finally met eye to eye with him, I noticed his startling green eyes. He was smiling and that smile scared me, like I knew the evil he thought of committing.
         "Then answer mine first. Who are you and what do you want?"
         "Georgie Boy, I merely want to cross the frame," he explained, motioning to the door. His accent became obvious to me and it brought with it images of old 1920's movies about gangster in New York; the cities that had all the famous people. I, myself, smiled at calling him Al Capone, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
         "How do you know who I am?" I inquired, moving my hand towards my gun and taking a step back. Looking back on it, I suppose that was a stupid move, for then he did step into the house and hung his suit jacket on the rack by the door, wiping his wet hands on a handkerchief he had kept in the front pocket. He walked past me and proceeded down to the living room, looking back at me for one last time before he stepped into it. I immediately reached for my gun and aimed it at him, but then realized that he had taken it and set it on couch where he began to sit. 'When did he take it from me?' I asked myself. My brain couldn't produce any other answer other than that this guy could be a really good pickpocket.
         "I know a lot about you, young writer," he said, taking off his hat and putting it on the table. I walked to the very edge of the room, my toes touching the carpet. My composure must have fallen, for the stranger's smiled widened. "But now the questions will end, for I have come here for an assignment that I am bound to follow. Are you just going to stand there?" he asked, looking at me with a challenging gaze.
         I stood there, not very eager to move at all towards him, let alone go into the room itself. "Oh, that's right," he began, "This is she died, isn't it?"
         "Get the hell out of my house."
         "I can't. This Hell Home is mine just as much as it is yours, Mr. Bennington." I paused in amazement. This guy really knew who I was, and I only could make a vague connection of him to my memory. "Georgie Boy, I was sent because you are trying to draw out the end of your story and I cannot allow that to happen. You shall incinerate us all in time, but by that hour it might be too late."
         "If you are from the publishing company, I'll get your fucking story done...now get out." I pointed my finger out to the window, but it produced little effect in him. Instead of leaving my humble abode, he sat looking at his fingernails, seemingly amazed at what he saw. I didn't press my request any further, for he still had the gun in his possession.
         "I would if I was from the publishing company. But you, yourself, sent me on this agenda. There are errands that I must continue to activate if you are to live in peace," he elucidated, leaning backwards and waving his hands in the air. He suddenly stopped and looked at me, with his startling green eyes that drilled a hole deep enough in me to leave a scar. "You remember that night when you found her greatest betrayal, don't you?"
         "Of course I do." Of course I did: A mere month ago I had walked into the house, ready to spend some time in the bed. In those days, the light shined everywhere and I was really quite happy. I had passed the living room and when I first caught sight, it was from the corner of my eye. I had to step back to realize what I had seen:
         "Her swinging like a goddamn pendulum." he chuckled.
         "Shut the hell up," I said, fists clenched. My teeth were slowly grinding in my head, already sending specks of calcium into my gums. I wanted to tear him limb from limb, and cast him back into the rain afterwards. Anything to make him disappear.
         "I don't think so, for there is much more that I must say. I have come here for you to change the story. There are some characters that need some...reassigning...and at this time, only you could possibly complete such a task," he stated right before standing up. Right then, I remember asking him who the heck he was, just like I had before, but I don't remember the amount of time it took him to get right up to me. As memory serves, it seemed instantaneous.
         "I sir, am a figment of your imagination."
         The words startled me completely and I took more than a step back: I turned to run, but as I did, I met face to face with the intruder. In an instance of realization, I took notice of who he was. The green eyes, the blonde hair, the insane quickness and even the incredible intelligence were known to me. The only thing that was different was the fact that he could talk. I comprehended why I never gave Vee Jay a voice in my story, for I was afraid that I would find out that it would be the voice I heard in my head.
         "It isn't that surprising, young Bennington. When you created me at a very early age, I laid dormant in the evil actions that you took. Every single act of sin was by my own mechanism so I could roll the events into place when the time came. You had to be tenderized for this moment, Georgie Boy. Both you and I could not have it any other way," Vee Jay asserted. He started walking towards me, pushing me back further and further until I was against the wall. His breath was fighting with mine and I could tell that unless I did something, I would lose. I took a jab at him with my fist and watched as it went right through as if he was a fog that had taken human shape.
         "No, it can't be..." I managed to utter. Vee Jay gently took my hand in his and led me towards the kitchen table and sat me down right across from him. I didn't think it was even far enough away to be comfortable, but you must understand that I am speaking out of wariness and dealing with the impossible. Vee Jay interlaced the fingers in his hands and set his elbows on the table, and then leaned against the wall, looking at me.
         "This is where our opinions differ. In my view, (which may I add, is the correct one), you are the writer of the story that you created," he started. I found this to be the led in which I was going to find out more information. I growing accustomed to Vee Jay at this time and made dew with the fact that I was going crazy.
         "You are talking about the reversal." I affirmed. Vee jay nodded and continued:
         "Indeed. In your current view, however, you see yourself as just another character. However, that cannot be for someone who has been playing God for so many ages now. In Harold's make, you have created a universe mean to be doomed. In these worlds, there exists a mirror image for everyone. When those mirrors die, so do the counterparts in world that you live in. It may not happen in the time, but it is within a reasonable frame.”
         "How does that work out? Because last time I checked, things like that were impossible. I'm just an amateur writer!" I found myself screaming at Vee Jay, but he neither jumped nor looked away. In his eyes, though, I could see flames lighting. I decided that I should not try to anger him.
         "It works because of the same reason that anything ever exists. The only reason that I exist in only my world in the physical is because I exist in yours in you mind. The same goes for you in my world. There will be a time for Reversal and that time will be soon, whether you like it or not," Vee Jay pressed.
         Things just didn't add up. I didn't create my mirror image in the least. I had made a point to not include myself in the story. I looked towards the clock. No time had passed in these moments and when I turned to the window nearby, I had seen an owl frozen right before it struck something on the ground. I heard tapping and when I turned, I saw Vee Jay looking impatient.
         "I don't exist in your world, so explain that," I pleaded.
         "That's because you are our God. Through you, you shall find redemption through our destruction. You will bring the Reversal of our three worlds." He said, smiling. I wondered what he could possibly find joy from in the fact, but in retrospect, I didn't want to know considering I was talking to a figment of my imagination.
         "I put that responsibility onto Harold. He'll be your destructor and your savior," I stated.
         "Not unless you make sure something happens. I need you to kill the captain of the Lighter Square," Vee Jay explained. I shook my head in defiance.
         "I haven't written her in yet, her path isn't even made. How fair is it that she should be doomed before she is even born through my pen?" I asked. Vee Jay's smile disappeared and he looked away, out towards the very same window I was looking at before.
         "It isn't fair. But certain events must take place in order for everything to occur as you have planned. Harold will find the very same betrayal that you did when you took Judas from the ropes a month ago. Lest we forget what you endured and what you pressed upon your characters."
         "I won't do it."
         Those four words changed everything for me that night. Those four simple words turned the calm and collected Vee Jay into a monster that I could not comprehend. He stood up in a flash, took hold of the kitchen table and flipped it. I jumped out of my chair and fell to the ground, trying to scoot back to the farthest corner of the kitchen.
         "You will hold your defiance and do as you are told, Georgie Boy! For in you lies the Suffering that you will put into the souls of those that you accompany and create. Such disobedience that you portray does no good just as blaming yourself for the loss of others does not!" Vee jay screamed. His hands were covered in flames as he approached me, just as his eyes glowed green. I understood the meaning of the color; he was envious. Maybe envious of my power; or that I had a physical form in this world and he could only dwell in my mind. All I really though in that moment was climbing into the refrigerator and I ran my hand against it as I backed up further. Any sort of escape would have done perfectly.
         "I won't! I love her character! I say she stays!"
         "From the madness of your heart and damnation of your soul, you love her just as you loved Jessica! Pay the price for your remarks and write the story so she is now and ever dead in the eyes of God! No other person can play the part that you must and it is imperative that you memorize the lines that I have given you. If uncomfortable turns of you life does not translate to Harold and those he encounters, I will whisper the words that you ache to make disappear!" I buried my head in my legs as he spoke, in an effort to save my own life as he continued on his rant.
         "Those words that crash my ears will not touch his fears, Vee Jay! I won't allow it!" I screamed, feeling the ash from his fire enter my lungs. I coughed and I could taste the warm sensation of blood on my tongue. He was killing me slowly. My goddamn figment was killing me.
         "In your presence, the captain of the Lighter Square will learn of her fate, for there is not other, Writing Writer. I know that even now, your mind contemplates the possibility of such an endeavor! Burn through her soul and be done with it! There is no room for mistakes, Mr. Bennington, for as I have heard from your very lips, you must play God as you have before! You must act in this manner and not in your own accord, for in you individualistic manner lays the destruction of your very being!" His voice grew louder until the whole house was shaking from his booming speech and the house smelled of charred material as his fists were kept aflame. Suddenly there was silence...
         I looked up from my fetal position in which I sat and I looked around. There was no sign of him and I breathed a sigh of relief. As if by some unknown force, I was pushed towards the ground and it felt like my back was going to crack from the sheer force of the pressure on my stomach. I could hear Vee Jay walking up to me, but I couldn't move my body to turn to him. All I could do was cry and cry I did.
         "You'll remember why you did it...just as you'll remember why she left."
         "I thought she was afraid...I didn't know she would..."
         I heard him laugh and finally I held real comfort as he did leave in a wisp of smoke. Under normal circumstances, I would have admitted myself into the nearest mental ward, but these were not normal circumstances as the writing on the ceiling would prove. Ash fell from above me and stung my eyes and I knew I wouldn't be able to move until I read the message Vee Jay burned into the ceiling:

DOES GOD EVER KNOW?

         I walked on until I was in a clearing: the grassy area around me felt soft under my uncovered feet and the slight breeze was a welcome change to the other sensations I had felt earlier that day. The clearing was at least a 16 acre area and surrounding the circular field was the dense forest that stretched as far as my eyes could see. I almost laughed in joy from where I was and I spun around like a child at the country fair. Not that I had ever been to one, being the antisocial child that I always was and would remain, but the feeling was nice enough to compare it to. The seeding dandelions were certainly a nice addition and although I knew they were weeds, I was made of innocence and did not care.
         The sun had begun its steady setting below the top of the hill. I stood on the other side of it, watching it fall from the hump. Feeling full of energy, I ran up the grassy knoll and smiled. The radiance of the light filled me with unbridled emotions. I felt more passionate than I ever had before and this time I laughed full heartily. I looked down to see a small Victorian mansion lying in the clearing and I immediately recognized. The white paint that graced its outer walls, the tall roof that kept its inhabitants from the elements, and I even knew of the furniture that lay within. The large Germanic pendulum clock that lay just past the door inside the house came into vision.
         A small army of herbal parachutes whizzed past me then slowly down immediately, falling to the ground, as if finding gravity almost uninteresting. I heard the sound of someone blowing the dandelion and from his voice, I knew who he was. I heard the sound of his black slacks walk up from behind me until they stopped. I felt his presence tickle my bare upper body even though he did not touch me. My hand clenched into a tight fist and for a moment, I thought about lashing out. Instead, I relaxed and smiled readily. There was some silence while we both looked towards the house, both in awe and loveliness.
         "I created this," I said, looked at the building, the sunset getting to the point where it nearly shadowed everything in the clearing.
         "Yes you did, Georgie Boy. Are you proud of your work?" Vee Jay asked. I turned to look at him, seeing that he had both hands in his pants pockets and was smoking a cigarette. I turned back to the house and the beautiful scene before me, contemplating about my feelings for the place.
         "Yes. I think I am," I began. I saw Vee Jay smile and look at the ground briefly. I could tell that he was quite proud of the scene itself. I heaved a delighted sigh and fell onto the ground, sitting on the dew wet grass and not caring that my pajama pants would turn wet. "But why am I here? I incinerated everything to do with this story. I put it out of my life, it was a failure."
         Vee Jay looked down at me, seeing the look on my face and threw his tobacco on the ground. After grinding it so it couldn't possibly be lit anymore, he started flipping his lighter cap on and off. He was thinking of a proper answer and soon enough he came to it. "It wasn't as much of a failure as you think." I raised an eyebrow and rested my arms on my raised knees, looking at him in confusion. "You kept the story alive in some of us. Most of all me...look." He pointed towards the house and for a moment, I wondered what he could be referring to.
         A sudden shockwave erupted, followed by an enormous fireball that came from the center of the mansion. Dandelion seeds flowed heavily in the wind, dancing while they were fire like a salsa of misery and elegance. I shielded my eyes from the blast, feeling the hot air rush past my fingers and my fast. The grass everywhere turned dry and dead, poking me with the sharp pain of a thousand needles. It was almost unbearable to stand upon and it took Vee Jay throwing his coat on the ground so I can stand on top of it to feel comfortable. I felt a slight wetness under my feet and I realized that the dead grass had cut me.
         Out from the Victorian mansion came a man dressed in white and bathed in blood. He carried out the bodies of two adult individuals; characters I already knew and discarded as worthless. Even so, I felt my soul grow heavy as he murdered them with his knife. "Why are you showing me this?" I asked, perplexed by the whole scenario. I turned to Vee Jay, angry about the turnabout of the scene. "I destroyed this for a reason."
         Vee Jay's smile disappeared from his usually calm face. He straightened his tie and then kept his gaze on the killer downhill. "That was me before you started again," he said. There was a heavy sense of remorse in his voice and I could tell that he was hurt by this fact. I wanted to tell him that it was not true, but I knew it as such. Although I destroyed the Relative Killer when I started again, every character's soul was reformed to fit into the new story. Was that the point of this whole situation? Vee Jay continued to speak. "You didn't truly destroy anything. My current make proves this as a fact: You have made me to make sure that you destroy all that you have created. To bring the story to an end, but I know that although you will complete this deed through the Reversal of the Screwdriver, the blame will fall on me for putting the wheels into motion."
         "I told you that I won't allow the story to change like that. If I am truly playing God, then I have the real choice in the matter. No one has to end in the way that this one has," I explained, holding my hands together as I looked at the scene before me. The killer was busily taking out the organs of his hunt and from a far off distance; I could see three faint figures, children as I knew them, watching him do so. In time they ran and silently, I wished the best for them.
         "Then you shall suffer, Mr. Bennington," Vee Jay stated. A series of letters surrounded his right hand in a circular pattern and it started shimmering in a soft green and blue hue. He waved it across his body as if casting away something that was attached to his hands and the house along with the, characters, disappeared completely; slowly it started disintegrating into ash until it was just a pile of gray, dusty matter. He waved his right hand again and the ash scattered among the seven prevailing winds.
         "How did you do that?" I asked, standing on the grass, which had turned green and soft again. Vee Jay held up his right hand, the letters still revolving in two dimensions around his hand. They started to vanish until they were completely gone and Vee Jay wriggled his fingers as if to make sure they were alright.
         "It is the power that both you and I hold. For you are the writer and I am the editor. Our destinies lie in what you create and by what I change, with your permission," he explained, slipping his hands back into his black pants pocket. I started to speak, but Vee Jay put a finger up to his lips and shook his head. "Everything will be explained in due time, but for now Georgie Boy, we must gaze even further back." He looked towards the horizon, at the setting sun that reversed and began to rise. I watched in astonishment as the sun split into two golden orbs and a mother appeared as if a specter in the middle of a field.
         She was dressed in a fine, but concealing blue and green silk and the wind blowing her red hair and dress around made her look angelic. It looked like she was gazing at me with her blue eyes and for a moment, I wished to go near her in hopes of falling to comfort in her arms. I actually stepped forward before Vee Jay put his hand on my shoulder and shook his head. "This story cannot be written anymore," Vee Jay stated. I could not go further, as it would seem.
         Instead, a small boy, no older than nine or ten ran past me. He was giggling and chasing a nearby butterfly that had found its way into the clearing. He clapped his hands together, trapping the yellow and black insect and ran to the woman. I concluded that this was his mother and those presumptions were proven in the dialogue that followed.
         "My dear Christopher, come to me. What have you in your hands?" the woman asked her son. Christopher smiled widely and opened his hands slightly, probably to let his mother see the butterfly that he had captured.
         "Mother, I have caught it! It's mine!" Christopher proclaimed. His mother smiled weakly and moved her hand towards Christopher's reddish black hair, moving it out of the way of his face. She admired her creation just as I had admired mine as it was then. She put her hands on top of her child's clasped ones and gently opened them, letting the insect escape into the sky.
         "My child, you mustn’t keep it prisoner. Living things do not live by such codes," she said, drawing her son closer to her body. Christopher looked up and gave his mother a scrutinizing look.
         "Why not, mother?"
         "For without love, everything would surely die...and God can only decide when we die if we are to remain pure," she explained.
         Everything was quite peaceful as Vee Jay and I watched the play continue. I heard Vee Jay take a deep breath as kicked a small stone down from the hill to the mother and child in the field. He turned to me and his mouth was contorted in a sorrowful frown. "If only you took the message you had written to heart," he said.
         I turned fully around and looked at him. The wind blew both our hair and Vee Jay's jacket providing a perfect picture for any painter to render. "What are you talking about, Jay?" I asked.
         "You don't remember..." he said, pulling out his right hand that had brought the destruction of the mansion. I grew fearful for what he was about to commit and I took a step back. "You really don't remember how you did it..." he reiterated. He waved his hand and the circle glowed brightly a second time. I looked towards the mother and son and saw the mother collapse onto the ground. It suddenly occurred to me the time and place this had happened.
         "This was my first...my first story," I said. I drew out the last word and it hung in the air like a poison that was ready to be taken by any bystander. Vee Jay put his hands in his pockets and looked back at the scene before us as the actors gradually disappeared.
         "It was your first escape," He explained.
         "Why are you showing me this?"
         "Because as you said before, you refuse to set the mechanism for everything bound to come," He said. We were looking directly at each other now and I barely noticed that everything had disappeared around us, leaving only a white, empty space. "You see the suffering that you put on yourself and your characters and you still do not search for a means to the ends."
         "There is no means to such an ending, Vee Jay. You only want me to kill the pilot of the Lighter Square and I will not do it if it means that everything is destroyed in this manner!" I yelled. Vee Jay barely moved from my surprise anger and only smirked when I began coughing ecstatically.
         "Young writer, you refuse to believe who you are and if it takes putting you on your own letter, you will make everyone else become the sacrifice. Bury the lamb and let it be done! You have use for this story unlike the others and such destruction would only bring about your death," he calmly stated, pulling out a cigarette and taking a deep smoke from it. "Just like you are now."
         I regained my breath and stood up straight, giving an evil glare of hatred towards Vee Jay. "What you are asking still doesn't make sense. You want me to end the story, but you don't want me to end it? You can't have your goddamn cake and eat it, Vee Jay!" I whispered in a hoarse manner that irritated my throat. "The story demands an ending and it should be a happy one?"
         "Why? So Harold will save all that reminds you of what you lost in this world? You know who the pilot of the Lighter Square represents. We cannot have such a distraction when Harold is to be led to the Domain. The time has always been now and it must take the both of us to burn these worlds at our own accord," Vee Jay pleaded. I tried blocking him out of my hearing range, but nothing seemed to work. I let my hands fall to my side and I was forced to listen, not being able to speak a full sentence after my last outbreak. "As you had bore her in your soul in your world, Harold will pay the same price in the very same mistake for have seen the context of it in your mind!"
         "I...have...not!" I managed to spit out of my throat. Vee Jay grabbed me by my aching neck, suing his right hand and lifted me up. I could feel his psychic grip tightening around my pipe and it became harder and harder to breathe. Vee Jay's eyes had turned to that familiar evil green and his hands flamed as they had once before.
         "LIAR! You are guilty for the treason that you commit upon yourself. Along your corpse will be the word that you shall write as a line meant only for the grave!" My vision became blurry, slightly disfiguring Vee Jay's image and slowly turning the white area to a steady black. I tried grasping at my throat, but each touch only brought more pain to me. "Through the uncomfortable turns that you have put yourself through, you ache to bring yourself the pain of self-righteousness. You are a fool for such beliefs, George Bennington and I shall make sure that the fuel that runs through your veins screams reconciliation for the actions you have not yet committed! You have said it thus yourself!"
         I opened my eyes and made visual contact with Vee Jay. All the pain stopped and I was brought to an image of myself hidden in the back of Vee Jay's mind. I knew this, somehow, as a sort of memory although I couldn't tell when or where it occurred. He looked like he had just crawled out hell, he was wearing a large overcoat and his blue jeans were torn and seared. I looked at his hand and saw the same circular letter pattern going across his left hand and then began to speak. All that would come to matter however was that I, or rather my other self, was speaking:
         "Let myself know that I cannot allow any room for any sort of disturbance in my make. For what I know of myself far exceeds those proportions of meddling. The story that I have written has taken its shape and cannot be remade again if these worlds are to be kept in a stable and rightful condition...in their destruction. My dear characters, I know the pain that I have caused you is undoable and I cannot say that I planned this from the start. Vee Jay, go through my form into my world to set which will be right to the wrong. Make myself, as the coward, write the ending that I, as God, have seen fit as punishment for all of my sins. The words that I create are no more than the pages that I shall burn waiting for the time to be set in place in my world. Instead, make him do it so these worlds may collide and do it in haste, Vee Jay, for you are the only one capable."
         I was pushed right out of Vee Jay's eyes when I heard my final words. Vee Jay began laughing as he released his grip slightly. My skin felt like it was burning as he laughed, turning on every nerve in my body at once. They were all screaming in the white abyss of that realm, and although I knew that it wasn't quite real, the pain said otherwise. Vee Jay waved his hand again and I feel towards the ground, hitting it hard. I was starting to black out; conscious running off to some equally adulterous lover. All I heard was Vee Jay's voice:
         "But I cannot kill you, for I was made to protect the writer. But you shall do as you are told."


         Screaming. That is what I found myself doing in my bed that night when I awoke from that nightmare. The greens, reds, oranges, then whites of my other reality made in my mind turned into the dark blue and blacks of my conciousness. I felt all over my body and in finding nothing, turned on the nearby lamp to see what was in my room. Satisfied that Vee Jay did not lurk in any of the corners, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the clock.

9:50 PM

         I smashed the alarm clock with my fist, hoping that I would be able to fix its malfunction. It wasn't broken however and it clicked slightly when a minute had passed. I covered my face with my hands, feeling the sweat on my forehead dampen my palms. My temperature had risen as I had slept, but the darkness of the room and the coldness of the house started to cool me down quickly. "Damn. I am going crazy," I said. Nothing seemed to make sense then, but I supposed that it never would.
         Walking over to the desk, I shook the mouse to the computer to take it from sleep mode. The tower hummed loudly as the screen turned from blue to the familiar white of the word processor program. My fingers raced across the keyboard as if they were still clawing at my throat. The words came straight from the depths of my heart as I poured out the remainder of my soul to the new introduction for the next chapter:

         THE SCREWDRIVER RELISHES IN THE FACT THAT HE IS STILL ALIVE IN THIS WORLD ALTHOUGH HE LEFT ONE SO FAMILIAR. HE TRAVELS THESE WORLDS ALONE AS HE SEARCHES FOR TRUTH IN LUCK AND HE SHALL FIND IT IN THE PILOT OF THE LIGHTER SQUARE, JANICE. HOWEVER, HE SHALL ALSO LEARN THE TRUTH AND CHOOSE NOT TO BELIEVE THE PART HE IS BOUND TO PLAY IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS, OR WILL HE BE READY TO ACCEPT THE COST OF THE PAYMENT HE MAY NOT DESERVES. IN HIS VISIONS LIES THE TRUTH OF THE CURSE AND THE BLESSING THAT HAS BEEN GIVEN TO HIM, BUT LIFE'S STRINGS ARE MEANT FOR THE THREE SISTER'S EASY CUT. JANICE WILL DIE AND HAROLD WILL BRING ON THE WAITING END.