"I'm cold," Denice sighed softy as she wrapped her arms around her wet body, looking over her shelter for the night. Christian and Denice had been searching all night for a place to stay out of the rain. A lighting blast fried their mini-van's wiring after burning a hole straight through the hood of the vehicle, forcing them to leave it in search for somewhere to wait for the storm to end. It took them till twilight.
 "I know, but would you rather stay outside for the night?" Christian said wiping his clothes dry.
Denice shook her head, "No."
About half an hour ago of franticly racing through the woods they came upon what looked like an old cabin built for hunting. Soaking wet, with nowhere else to go, they decided to stay for the night -- or at least till the storm cleared up.
 

  Back in town a storm loomed over the horizon. Dark clouds swirled and began to corrupt the evening twilight with a layer of grayish blue. The Landwell Catholic Church was locking its doors and turning off it's lights. They knew it was coming. Father Sims walked carefully staring blankly out the large front windows, the locusts could be heard playing a beautiful symphony A Song of Fate, Sims thought. He walked back to the Alter letting his mind focus on his thoughts. All his life he had had been running from it, but it had won. Twenty-five years to the day and it didn't forget. Sims didn't forget either, and knows he will soon pay for it.

Only few vague memories remained of that night so long ago. Red. A lot of red, something hard, a floor maybe. But nothing disturbed him more than the face. The unknown face to which all the other images were tied. It was a pale frightened face. Wither it was a young boy or a young girl Sims could not tell. Nor did he care. It was the face that scared him. The expression.

 Good God what did I do? Sims thought sipping his whiskey. "Twenty-five fuckin' years." He mumbled to himself taking a giant swig of whiskey just before dropping it.

It shattered and he began to weep.  

The cabin was cold but dry, and contained some furniture, a cot, a chest of drawers and an empty gun rack, save for the last two pegs with a single double barrel shotgun, which made Denise nervous. The cot was comfortable enough. Slipping out of their clothes they hung them to dry on top of the gun rack (Denise's idea). Soon Christian was asleep in Denise's arms. She had grown used to his snoring but it still kept her up long after they moved out of their dorms and into their new apartment. Denise was proud of the apartment they shared. It marked a new beginning in her and Christian's lives.  Both had grown-up with domineering parents and (of course) are attending a college close enough to be controlled further by their parents. The apartment, far from campus had granted a certain amount of freedom that both Denise and Christian relished, spending most of their time making love and studying. They were both in their graduate year, and had plans to get married in the summer. Just then, Christian began to twitch and tremble in his sleep. Denise held him tighter and stroked his hair. This seemed to work as well when he had nightmares, which seemed often. As of late, they seemed to become more potent. Sometimes he would wake up screaming, mumbling incoherently about some phantom bum hiding behind a bookshelf. Or at least, that's all Denise could discern.  Most dreams Christian would forget upon waking. Others he would just refuse to talk about. Denise also learned not to wake him from a dream, this seemed more traumatic then to just let him sleep it through, though, it broke her heart to watch him suffer.  Denise sighed and rocked back and forth still stroking his hair.

 And soon, she was asleep as well.                                     
 

I sat at my desk and let my mind begin to wonder, as it always did.  A sudden rash of fighting had broken out in school recently. Three in a week, two hospitalizations, not including the two last week in the football games. My mother left my father about a month ago. She didn't even leave a note.
 
As far back I could remember they never got along. Something just snapped, I guess. It was inevitable anyhow. God knows. I never understood relationships anyways, too much trouble.   This, reminded me of Mary...

Mary.

If there ever were such things as angels, she would be even more beautiful than the brightest star in the heavens.  I knew this. 

My head ached and moaned it's usual song of disapproval of another goddamn skippy school day.  "Tommy, you asshole!" Margaret yelled from the back of the room during first period Algebra. It was going to be a long... long... day.

As the bell rang, the class stammered from the room like ants from a flame. I on the other hand, with mediocre enthusiasm, stepped through the door and out into the hallway, wishing - wishing, some one was there waiting for me. 
But, as usual, she wasn’t.

The halls filled with flowing masses of high school students. Some of them interesting, some of them alterna-teens, and some boring. Okay, mostly boring, but does that really redeem them?  The thousands upon thousands, of countless students that had no more grasp on reality than a cartoon. But, then again I had a habit of that, judging people. It's probably one of my bigger flaws. Kevin then walked by acknowledging me with a nod, as did Jeremy. I nodded back and smiled. As I neared my second period class, my brown leather jacket made a slight creaking sound against my book bag, like a rusty hinge.
 
I opened the door and stepped inside.
 

 Study Hall. I've yet to find a class more pointless than Study Hall. I've also yet to see someone actually study in this class. I slipped off my jacket and things and hid them away in the space underneath my desk.  I began doodling on a piece of paper when I noticed Brian snoring at the desk to the right of me. I smiled; the tardy bell hadn't even rung yet. In a matter of minutes the bell rang and a few remaining students scrambled to their seats as Ms. Culridge took role.  Finishing, Culridge asked, "does any one wish to go to the library," in her usual, methodical voice. I lifted my hand up, as did several others.  Only three were allowed a day and only once a week per person, but normally the latter was generally the ignored one of the two.
 "Jack, Christian, and Beth, you three may go." Jumping out of my seat, I grabbed my things.
 "Miss Lisa, and Miss Sarah, you must remain here." Ms. Culridge said, much to Lisa and Sarah's disappointment. As I began to leave, Ms. Culridge interrupted me, "Christian. I've some thing here for you."   She always had a cold, emotionless, mono-toned voice that made every one shiver. Rumor had it she never even shed a tear after her husband died in an inexplicable accident five years ago. Much to my suspicion whenever approached about her husband’s death, she would only reply,
 "It was just an accident, accidents happen," in her usual icy voice. But she was old, and would seem feeble, but her in her voice, something told me she was not.

 I then noticed the entire class was staring at me. I had probably been standing there for some time.

 As I walked towards her I realized she wasn't looking at me, but eyeing something at her desk.   "Yes?" I asked half-nervous, half-intrigued. She handed me a small, paper brown envelope, I thanked her as I slid it into my backpack. "What is it?" I inquired. "It would be in your best interest not to open that around others Mr. Tarrant."
 "But, why?"
"Good-day, Mr. Tarrant."
 "Wait a min-"
"Good-day Mr. Tarrant," she interrupted with a sharper, more piercing tone. , I turned around and began my trek towards the school library.

The halls were empty now, vacant, contrary to the rabble that engulfed the area earlier. The sound of my black workboats  clacking on the beige title floor could probably be heard on the other end of the building.  It was dark, not pitch-black, that you or I may be accustomed to. But that shadowy, murky, dark. The windows, (that you couldn't even fit a small child through) barely illuminated my path. It all gave me a peculiar sense of belonging that, at the same time made me ill at ease.

 Lining the walls were posters, signs, billboards, and an endless array of crudely made banners that read, "Go Flames!"  "Pelasgian High is #1!" Or some other stale, trite, over used statement as such. Almost like any other school, I thought.

Almost.
 

In the library, seemingly endless corridors of books befell me. They ranged from all types - from the brilliant Dante's Inferno to the sultry romance novels. Unlike most school libraries, this one included all types of cultures not just intended for book reports and such. It even had titles such as "the Satanic Versus" and other controversial titles. This library had nearly everything a young scholar would ask for. Most people preferred it to the old pubic library, which now, this library has practically become.
  After lying my books down I perused the aisles of books mindlessly looking for anything interesting. Alas, not finding anything, I sat down and removed my jacket setting it on a table next to me, and began flipping through a magazine. The minutes slowly drudged on as I waited for the bell to ring. The only sound in the room was a clock ticking with a somewhat off beat.
 "Probably, wrong," I thought, looking at my watch. It was ten after ten.  Class ends in twenty minutes, I thought still looking at my watch. Sighing, I laid my head upon the table and rested. I still heard the clock ticking…
Tick
Tick
   Tick
Tick
  I looked up after a few minutes, surveying my surroundings. The aisles of books were sitting there, waiting for someone to read them. As I bent over to lie back down, something caught my eye. A small - no - smallish figure that couldn't be more than four feet tall, was behind a shelf of books, moving in a quite odd manner
.
It seemed to almost shuffle it's way around much like a crippled beggar or one who had just been shot. It seemed to be human, but it was hard to tell. It grunted and moaned as if it were in pain. My heart began to beat faster as it began to limp in my direction, moaning still. I had the notion to run but fear froze me still. I could not move. My heart jumped as it began to mumble in a low drone, sounding almost like humming. I strained my eyes to see what it could be, but the books obscured my vision making this experience seem even more horrific. As the murmur died down, a sharp sound pierced my ear.  It sounded like the squeaking sound of a child sliding down a playground slide, but this was more slippery sounding. 
   I opened my mouth to scream, but before I had a chance to cry out the bell interrupted me. I felt disoriented, as if awaking from a dream, although I did not remember ever shutting my eyes. Nor did I recall opening them.
   The bell ringing, and my hands and face moist with sweat, I quickly grabbed my things and left.
 
 

The clock read eight after twelve.  "Shit," I moaned. My bones creaked as I stood up and stretched. I had been reading all night, occasionally stopping to watch the storm just outside my window. It was the hardest storm all year. My head still hurt from thinking about the "incident" in the library earlier. It seemed to be my every other thought. It was hazy now, only remembering flashes and things. The more I thought about it, it seemed, the more I forgot. Still, not a bit of the emotion had dissipated. It swirled in a shade of red that made my pulse rise, and the memory seem even more surreal.

 "Duke, Duke, Duke - Duke of Earl-," Dad walked passed my bedroom singing to himself his favorite tune. He hadn't sung it to himself in years. For some reason, he was in an unusually good mood, especially, seeing how it was after midnight and I was still up. "Bed time, Chris," he muttered underneath his breath, as he walked by my room, back into his. "Yeah," I said still trying to decipher what was wrong with him. Shutting my door, I suddenly remembered the package Mrs. Culridge had given me. It was still lying on my dresser just as I had left it. It was heavy for such a small package, it's manila coloured wrapping wrinkled slightly now. Carefully pealing the envelope back I noticed a faint indiscernible smell emanating from within, it smelled some what fresh like new paper, sterile, yet somehow it had a musty quality to it. Upon opening the package, I laid the contents onto the bed. I saw what appeared to be thick, folded paper, typed on the top was: "For Physician's Examination Only", and an even smaller envelope which read, "Photos," which was scribbled on it crudely -- barely legible. 

Curious, I first picked up the packet that read "For Physician's Examination Only," and opened it. 

 Inside, was something that horrified me. 

 Christian was awakened by a scream. After a few moments of disorientation Christian looked around at the damp cabin and refimiliarized himself with his surroundings.  Denise was sleeping soundly next to him. "Did I really scream?" Christian asked himself. He found it odd that she could sleep through such a painful, frightened howl. Christian would often awaken to her cuddling him in her arms. Lately it had been nightly that he would wake up feeling her soothing touch on his body, humming softly.  This made him smile. 

Christian turned to Denise and looked at her.  She was beautiful. Her long red hair fell in locks behind her head and her pale skin was illuminated in the moonlight coming from the window. He stroked her shoulder enjoying its softness. She wiggled slightly for a moment, smacked her lips and continued to sleep. Christian watched her till daybreak.

 A pale orange light slowly ascended from the horizon and cast a pleasant glow on ground below.  The light soon transformed into a pale yellow that filled the cabin room. The light-struck Denise's eyes and she slowly rose from her deep sleep. 
"G'morining," Christian smiled as she sat up.  
"'Morning," she smiled back. "What's for breakfast?"
"A half eaten candy bar and a 5 mile hike back to civilization."
"Are our clothes dry yet?" 
"Dunno," Christian said as he swung his feet around to the side of the cot and touched the pile of clothes on the floor.  "Sorta. Slightly moist but wearable, I think."

 Denise sat up and walked around the cot and picked up her clothes.