Derek Barton's Blog, page 30

Seyde In Blood – NOW ON SALE ON KINDLE!!

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A Messenger has come with the night’s maelstrom. He has a story to show Taliah, The Blind Seeress. Through her witness, the secrets of the Artadeus Family and the infamous Cros’seau Coup Attempt are laid bare for all!

It is a great addition and further insight to the dark past and bloody, revenge story that unfolds in Consequences Within Chaos.

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In Four Days (Saga Two – Part Two)

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DAY TWO…

“Chad! Chad, please!  I need a gun!”  Khirov had called again and left a voicemail.  It was almost 2 am.  I was at Sandra’s apartment so I hadn’t picked up the call this time.  Unlike last night, he was hysterical and most of the message was garbled in gibberish or sobs.

He ended with “I have to reach you so I will keep trying all night if I must.”  The tone was desperate and driven.  I sighed with frustration and dread — deep down I had a feeling that he was going to call me again.  Something about his story had not set well with me and my instincts were telling me that a nasty storm was on the horizon.

I slipped out of bed, being careful to not wake her up and tiptoed into the kitchen.  I wanted a coffee and a bit of Baileys to stiffen it up.

He answered the call on the first ring.

“Where are you? Where were you?  Can you bring me a gun?”  He flooded me with questions.

“Slow!  Slow down.”

“You have got to help me!  I am not su— I am not sure how much…”  Khirov broke down into more long sobs.

I leaned against the counter and sipped at my mug.  Never been much of an empathetic ear.  I am a fixer versus a listener you might say.

“Are you there?”

“Yes.  I am here.”  I took a drink.

I heard an overhead PA announcement.  Then a male voice asking for a signature.

“Are you alright, Mr. Boulos?  Where are you?”

“I am in the lobby of the ER at Einstein Medical Center.”

“Why?”

“I fell and cut my hands up.”  He then spoke to the other person there, “Yes, yes.  Here is my insurance card.  Can you just bill me for the copayment tonight?”

After a few minutes, Khirov was alone in the lobby. “He came again.”  His words were shaky.

“Who?  The man with the dog?”

“He is not human! Chad, I—”

“Please call me Detective Ellis.”  I was already too close to the man and he seemed to have me on speed dial.  Had to put some distance between us.

He was silent and probably offended.  It was late and at that point, I really didn’t care.  I regret that now.

“I called my brother, Jaleel after we met at the bar.  He still lives in the homeland.  He’s what we call ‘imam’ and he leads a congregation in prayers.  I knew he would understand all of this.  After I told him what I showed you last night, he advised that I should make amends to whom I may have wronged or attrition for my sins.  Jaleel believes that the shaytan jinns are hunters or harvesters.  Or that maybe sometimes they are servants to an even more powerful beings.”

He had my attention now.  “Hmmm.  Really?  That is interesting.”

Like I said before, his story bothered me and the circumstances around it.  That afternoon, I did my own research and came across a recent article in the papers.   A young Hispanic woman had been missing for a month or so.  Disappeared right after our first blizzard.  Police found her apartment broken into and caked in snow and a peculiar mud.  It was the mud that snagged me.   Where would that mud come from in the heart of a snow storm?

There was a link to some blogs that the woman supposedly wrote.  I didn’t get a chance to read them yet.

Further in the article it did state that authorities suspected foul play, but it also might be fraud — the accounting firm where she worked made claims they had found evidence that she had embezzled from them for several months.  Could she be faking her own disappearance in order to avoid police and keep the money?  Or is this connected after all?

“What do you mean?  Do you know something?” He questioned me.

“No, no.  You said you got hurt?”

He paused before answering, choosing his words carefully.  This confirmed my suspicion that he was holding something back.

“After my call with Jaleel, I dug out my Hamsa and put—”

“—Hamsa?”

“A…uh, good luck charm you might say.  Like the lucky rabbit’s foot your people use.”

I laughed at that.  My people…

“I had it on a chain.  It’s of the Hand of Fatima.  She was the daughter of the Prophet Mohammed.    Anyway, I wanted to unwind and needed to go hiking in Washington Square Woods.  Must’ve walked hundreds of miles on those paths over the years.  It was very nice out, a half hour before sunset.  I was listening to music on my phone.  Somehow, I suddenly heard coming through my headphones, ‘Two days left.’  That’s also when it struck me I had gotten off the normal paved trail.  I didn’t even recognize that part of the woods.”

“But you have been there many times you said.”

“Right!  I was confused.  How could I be lost?  As I stood there trying to understand it, I heard a noise up ahead.  Out from the brush, the jinn had returned and had stepped out onto the trail.  He just stood in the center waiting for me to approach.  But I am no fool or hero, I spun around and ran!”

“Was he alone?”

“I thought so at first.  When I looked back, he had come closer — there waiting again!  He’s a demon, Detective Ellis!  I don’t know what I am going to do.”

“A gun isn’t going to stop him, not even with bullets dipped in holy water.”   I joked.

“YOU ASSHOLE!  I AM BEING HUNTED!”  Khirov screamed at me.

I deserved that.  He was right.  I had stopped taking this serious.

After a minute or so he calmed down and started again.  “I ran off the path.  Thought maybe I would lose him in all the trees and scrubs.  But that is when I heard the panting…”

I had pressing questions, but they would only distract him.  I waited for him to finish.

“At first it was behind me, off to the right.  Something big and fast.  It had to be his Rottweiler.  Then I heard more panting to the left behind me.  Then they were everywhere, staying just behind me.  He—HE HAD A PACK CHASING ME!”

He coughed and then cleared his throat.  “I was scrambling as fast as I could.  I couldn’t see as it had gotten dark and the damn things just kept running at me, but never showing themselves.  They herded me like a cow right back to him somehow.   I hit this small clearing and nearly charged right into him.  I skidded to a halt, but fell backwards on my hands.  That’s how I had cut them up.  He towered over me, had to be eight feet tall!  He wore a torn, black jacket I think or something — I remember though seeing his muddy work boots!  They had that mud crusted all over them.  And his face!  Chad, the face had shadows covering his mouth and neck, but the shadows were crawling!!”  His voice cracked and he sobbed a bit.

I heard a man call out to Khirov.  He moaned in reply, “Yes, sorry.  I am fine.  Sorry, I will keep it down.”

“Could you come to the station and have an artist sketch him?”  I felt for the man, even though the whole story was bullshit and filled with delusions.

“NO!  I… you don’t understand.  He wasn’t — isn’t human!   He had no eyes, just three empty eye sockets, one on top of the two.  He leaned over me and whispered into my face,  ‘Wahakadha ‘aydaan yjb ealayk ‘an altahamat!’

.  Then he ripped away my Hamsa chain.  The pack of dogs were howling and barking all at once.  They were crazed and in a frenzy.  When I looked back, he had vanished.”

“What did he say to you?”

“‘Wahakadha ‘aydaan yjb ealayk ‘an altahamat!’ It means ‘And so too you shall be devoured.'”

“You mean he had the dogs attack?”

“No.  Although, they ran me from the park; they circled and chased me for hours, but I only saw their shining eyes.”  He went quiet.  Waited for me to give him a solution.

It was time to press.  “Khirov?  Your brother says these jinns only come for the sinners or for those who have wronged others…  Who did you hurt?  Tell me what you did!”

He hesitated.  I knew he wanted to tell me.  He had built this whole story up in his head so he could confess to me and maybe justify what he had done.

There was silence.  Then there was a dial tone.

Khirov had disconnected the line.

In Four Days – Saga Two…

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DAY ONE…

I had been perched on a stool at the bar of Tattooed Mama’s for almost twenty minutes, drinking in silence the last of our pitcher and smoking the last of my Maverick smokes, when Khirov finally turned to face me.  The taxi driver’s face was coated in sweat, his eyes bloodshot and his bandaged hands were shaking.  If I hadn’t known him for seven years now, I would have thought he was riding high on some drug.  He called me at the station about an hour ago, frantic but evasive and asked for me to speak with him here.

“You ready to tell me what’s got you so cranked?”

“Don’t.  Don’t look at me like that.” He snapped.  “I don’t need judging.”

“Fine.  I have wasted enough of my slee—”

“—No, no.  Sorry, Detective Ellis.”  Khirov waved his hand at me and then used a bar napkin to wipe at his cheeks and brow.  He shot me a quick glance as he started to snake one of my cigarettes out of the pack.  “May I?”

I just nodded; I had never seen him upset.  Not even after I had reported to his assault and robbery.  I had been on patrol when the call came in:  a taxi driver had been beaten and robbed.   He had been calm during my questioning and had spoken clearly and careful, giving me all the details that he remembered.   He was not one to be easily rattled.  When I arrested the punk that had robbed him, Khirov Boulos had insisted on buying me a steak dinner.  Afterwards, we had remained in touch over the years.

“Detective Ellis, are you a faithful man?  Religious, I mean?”

“I was raised Catholic by my Ma, but I haven’t been in a church in several years.”

“So you don’t fear the afterlife?”

I laughed at that.  “No.  After what happens out here on the streets, I think there isn’t much that demons and Hell could use to shock me.”

He took a long drag of the cigarette and then fell silent.

“Khirov, look. If you aren’t ready to tell me what’s going on, I am not going to sit here all night trying to read your mind.  I need to go home.”

He nodded and then drank some liquid courage.  “I was, uh, was on duty tonight around 9:30 near Dock St and 2nd of Old Town.  Parked in an alleyway and waiting out the end of the rain storm we had.  I must’ve dozed off or something.  All of sudden I hear this dog barking.  A loud, heavy woof. Could feel it vibrate through my chest.  It was on my car’s hood!  The damn thing just staring at me right through the windshield. I yelled back at it and waved my arms, but it just growled.  I honked my horn trying to scare it. When it finally jumped down to the side, I saw this man standing there also just looking at me.  I couldn’t see his actual face in the shadows, but I could feel his eyes upon me, you know?”

“Was he alone?”

“I think so, other than the dog.”  He coughed into his hand and then took the napkin back to his brow.  “Anyway, I yelled at the son-of-a-bitch too and waved for him to go away.  I shouted at him ‘Don’t you have anything to do? Get lost!’  But he said nothing.  I got mad and I wanted to see who this was.  I flipped on my brights…”

He paused, then shifted his weight on the bar stool and glanced over my shoulder to scan the bar room.

“And?”  I prompted.  Like in all of my interrogations, I found it better to not interrupt and ask very few questions.  Let their story come out unhindered.

“There… there was nothing.  Just an empty alley.  Not even a dumpster for him to hide behind.”  He shook his head as if arguing with the memory.  “I went to get out of the car when this an incredibly loud thunder jolted me.”

“Wait!  The alley was clear?”

Khirov began shaking all over, “The street lamp above me, it suddenly got much brighter.  Turned up and up until it exploded!  Sparks were everywhere.  I cranked my car keys to start it up so I could pull out from underneath it.  Thought maybe the pole had gotten hit by lightning or something and didn’t want the wires come down on me.  But when the car did start, the radio blared some awful rap music — that’s when I saw the time. It was 4:00 am!  My wife, Evona had to be freaking out that I hadn’t come home yet.  How could it have gotten to be 4?”

He snuffed out the smoldering end of the cigarette.  I lit one and quickly handed him another.  I wanted to know the rest of the story.

“Everything just went black.  Everything.  The dark washed over like a flood. My car died, the lights all faded along the buildings.  Then… then I heard the back passenger door open and felt the weight of someone sitting inside.  I screamed, ‘Whoever you are, get out! I am not in service.’  I knew it was him.  The door shut and then all the locks dropped in the doors.  I… I was locked inside with him in total darkness.”

“What did he want?”

“I only heard his voice once.  ‘In four days, I will have you.’ I panicked.  Beat on the window with my hands.  My rings finally broke it and I scrambled out.  I just left the car, my money, all — it didn’t matter.”

“‘In four days, I will have you’?” I repeated.  “Was it a joke?  Khirov you had to be still dreaming.”

His eyes were filling with tears and a deep-seated dread.  “No.  I think that this was a shaytan jinn.”  His voice had fallen to barely a hoarse whisper.

“What?”

“A creature of smokeless fire.”  He replied. “What you would call a demon.  I am being hunted, my friend.”

My expression must’ve betrayed my true thoughts.  His jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight line.  “You doubt me!  You think me mad?”

Khirov pounded his fist on the table, then he slapped a twenty dollar bill between our glasses and grabbed my arm. “Come on then, American.  Come!”

He hauled me out to his yellow Bright Day Cab parked outside.

“Explain this!”

A pair of streaky, paw prints made of greenish-gray muck were tracked all along one side of the black hood.  Then he opened the back door and pointed at a set of boot prints made of the same muck.

“In four days…” he whispered in a hushed tone.

In Four Days…(part 4)

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DAY FOUR…

I woke up late this afternoon; of course from a nightmare.  Or am I still in the nightmare?  Things are blurring together now and I don’t know if I can tell what’s real any more.

When I popped open my laptop, this message nearly stopped my heart:

 

[image error] First of the Year’s Snowstorms Expected to Cripple Philadelpha

A massive snowstorm that has devastated the city of Halifax, Nova Scotia and most of the state of Maine is now heading for the Northeast U.S. Coast.  This storm is expected to break all-time snowfall records for Pennsylvania – Philadelphia (14.8 inches), Pittsburg (13.1 inches) and Scranton (13.8 inches).  Many residents have been advised of an emergency curfew and restricted to their homes and off of roads.  Officials fear for extensive power outages up and down the coastlines. 

 

Every light and lamp I own has been plugged in and turned on in my tiny bedroom.  My four somewhat used and somewhat sharp kitchen knives are laid out on my bed.  The .380 pistol my brother in New Jersey bought me lays in my lap like a pet, a twisted replacement for Rayray.

The coffee table gave up its life to be nailed into the wall and placed across the window.  The doors are all locked.

My thoughts race around the last line of the article.  Officials fear for extensive power outages…

Deep down, I don’t believe any of this will be enough to stop him.  He’s coming.  I don’t know why or what he wants.  But… this is the fourth day!

It has snowed all night so far.   Worst case scenario would be if the pow

Taken and reposted from Amara Rico’s Facebook Page – January 29th, 2016

The above posts from Rosalina Rico were the last entries on my sister’s laptop.  A welfare check made on January 25th by the local authorities found her apartment door open; snow and mud covered a lot of the living room.  It seems that the door had been open during most of the three-day storm.

One officer at the scene relayed to me that they did find three bullet holes in one of her bedroom walls.

Her family prays for her safety and requests any help or information you can give.

Please call 1-888-772-6600 — 24 hour hotline.

OFFICIAL RELEASE OF CONSEQUENCES WITHIN CHAOS

You can now purchase my book off of Amazon.com!!  

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Special shout out to my family (my wife Erika especially!), my parents for their input and support, my friends (Chris & Sydney Gatti, Brian Gatti, Doug Sandburn & JD Miller) for their encouragement and the great cover work by Dan Thomas of Dark_Art_Komics!!

This has been an epic quest for me and a long, five year journey.  Yet, this is only the beginning.  I have more stories in me that are dying to come out!!

In Four Days…(part 3)

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DAY THREE…

 

I SAW HIS FACE!!

Last night, my nerves got the best of me so I took Rayray out of the apartment and we rode into town.  I wanted to be with people and in the public view.  

I had been wracking my head trying to figure out what was happening.  Was this just some creep with a flair for theatrics?  Was this something worse?  Or could I be having a breakdown of sorts?  

I needed to know and I had this sinking feeling that time was running out for me. Nothing on the internet had given me any clue of what I am dealing with.  

On the freeway we encountered a huge traffic jam.  While it delayed us for about an hour, being surrounded by a dozen or so cars crammed with people helped and I felt the most secure that I have been since my world unfolded.

It was the weekend and on Friday nights they always have a large live music gathering inside the pavilion at East Fairmont Park.  My ex-boyfriend Tad used to take me there, mainly to score a bag of weed while I listened to the music.  It should be overcrowded and well lit.  Perfect and just what I want.

On Cranston Heights Boulevard, I pulled into the B*** of A******’s parking lot to get cash.  The park’s ticket booths weren’t set up for cards and I always liked tipping some of the street performers as well.  At its east corner was an ATM in a small glass enclosure attached to the main building.  The enclosure was nothing more than a carpeted rectangle with the ATM in its back wall, a small trashcan and plant.  Next to the machine, a single door marked STAIRS.

Two street lamps bookend the ATM and blanketed the lot with bright light.  I had become very sensitive to knowing where all the lights were, scanning the surroundings and took nothing for granted.  I was taking note of everything.

Rayray whined as he sensed my apprehension and he stayed obediently at my heels as we crossed the lot and entered the small room.  

Inside, the air was warm and stale – a heating vent blew directly overhead in between two sets of track lights.  

“Oh.. oh.. shit, no!” I muttered as I rummaged through my cluttered purse – my debit card was not in its slot in my wallet.  I finally found it buried in a side pocket and I slid it into the machine with a heavy sigh.  

The ATM chimed loudly as it accepted the card.  The screen suddenly blinked at me and then turned off.

The machine chimed again.

My heart began to pound. I glanced over my shoulder to see the empty lot behind me.

EMPTY.  

I couldn’t believe I left myself alone and open once again!

Another chime from the machine behind me.

That’s three chimes… my brain screamed at me.

I backed up against it just as the street lamp on the right of the ATM enclosure burst into a shower of sparks, followed up by the lamp on the left. The lot fell under a cloak of absolute darkness.  Death was surely perched to pounce upon me if I left the enclosure.

“Oh my god, Rayray, what is he?”  I moaned. “What am I going to do?”

The room grew colder, the air itself denser.  The track lighting sets flickered and then died too.

One more chime signaled his presence.

Rayray growled and his fur bristled as he stepped in front of me.

On pure instinct, I bolted for the door marked as STAIRS.  He was not getting next to me ever again!  

A sudden blast of icy wind came from the open door behind me as he broke into the enclosure.

“Rayray come!”  I screeched as I lunged through the STAIRS door and descended the steps.  

Behind me,  the STAIRS door slammed shut.  I had no idea where this stairwell was leading me to, but I couldn’t think straight at this point.  

Parallel lines of fluorescents on the walls began to explode as I approached them.  The blackness followed at my heels like a stalking wolf.    

But even blind I ran or stumbled on – I think I traveled down almost five flights to the bottom.  There I found only a chained door with a tiny window looking out at an abandoned underground parking lot.  I waited helpless and shivering against it.  Sitting in the cold, trapped in a pit while the abomination hunted above for me.

What would come next?  I realized that I could hear absolutely nothing.  No wind, no breathing, no sounds of traffic.  Not even the ATM chimes.

He isn’t gone.  I knew this deep in the core of my being.  He wasn’t done with me.  

Or did he already kill me and this is death? Laying blind in the cold?  The thought raced through my mind before I could contain it.  Perhaps I am already lying in my coffin and I don’t even know it?

I stared up into the black maw of the stairwell.  

Then a brief hope flickered in my head.  I began to rummage through my purse again, feeling around.

My fingers finally curled around my prize just as a sound echoed down to me.

Drip…. Drippp…. Dripppp….

I wondered if the ceiling maybe had sprung a leak, but that just seemed unlikely.

And it wasn’t raining when we came into the bank!  My brain screamed at me once again.

Drip…. Drippp…. Dripppp….

The steady patter of drops grew stronger and splashed loudly on the cement floor in front of my legs.  A stream of drops formed into a puddle.

Then just behind the sounds of the drops, I heard his heavy, dragging footsteps.

Squellccchhh…. Sqquueeelllccchhhhh

His muck-covered boots stuck to the metal stairs.  Was he pouring something over the steps?

When he got to the landing just above mine, the drops finally faltered and came to a stop. Something heavy was then dropped at his feet.  

I held my breath; my heart nearly bursting from the confines of my chest and waited for the words I knew were coming.

“Two days… I will hav–”

I was better prepped this time – I raised a pen flashlight I had carried in the purse and clicked the flashlight on.  The small beam of light cut through the gloom and illuminated the landing – a towering, shadowy figure stood there in a hooded, black rain slicker, mud-caked jeans tucked into mucked over boots.   He roared and his shape swirled away from the beam and his features bled into the dark shadows of the stairwell.

But as I said before – I SAW THE BASTARD’S FACE!

The skin of his cheeks were leathery and drawn, pulled down tight toward his chest. His chin covered in coarse grey and brown hair.  His bluish lips were thin and his mouth pressed tight into a single line.  The nose was very thin, beak-like and cleft at the end.  

But the eyes, the eyes… were missing.  There were three, empty black hollow sockets; one sitting on two in some skeletal-like pyramid.  

I think I fainted.  I don’t remember even how I got back to my apartment.  

I don’t even know where Rayray is.  I am all alone…

In Four Days…(part 2)

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DAY TWO…

I am not sure how long I laid on the floor of that bathroom.  Maybe it was shock, maybe it was disbelief that had just happened or maybe it was just embarrassment – Either way, I didn’t report it or call the police.  I didn’t want to believe it myself, let alone trying to convince anyone else.

Rayray, my rottweiler, must’ve thought it was his lucky night as I had him sleep in my bed.

That next morning, I considered calling in as I hid under the comforter.  It felt unnaturally cold in the bedroom.

“You know! You know it was just security, right Rayray? Just another asshole guard trying to be big and bad.  Prove he’s got the balls and the badge.”  The dog only whined and pawed at my foot.

“Yeah, I know. Get up and get to work.”

 …ØØØ…

I yawned and drank from another hot coffee as I waited for the elevator to come.  Yeah, another!  Don’t judge. 

A rusting sedan went by slowly and worked its way down the row of parked cars.  The parking garage was windy; my breath plumed in the brisk morning air.  I was a bit early – it was 7:22 am.

Again, I chided myself for living yet another winter in Pennsylvania.  My mother and brother lived just outside Miami.  That’s where I should be – not standing here in this refrigerator!

The bell signaled the elevator car arrived and the doors slid open.  I walked in and flicked the dead cigarette from my hand behind me.

As the doors closed behind me, I wondered aloud, “Did I leave the reports on the printer or did I even get those to my desk before…”  I didn’t finish the sentence.  Finishing meant completing the thought and the thought scared the living shit out of me.  LAST NIGHT NEVER HAPPENED!

Instead of talking more to myself which is a bad habit of mine, I pushed for floor 8.

At floor 4 the overhead lights bloomed brighter and buzzed like a beehive.

At floor 5 the elevator jerked once.

NO!  SHIT, NO!

Floor 6 dead stop.  The elevator brakes screeched angry.

Like anyone else would in that situation, I banged repeatedly at the buttons.  Hammering the open door button.  Nothing worked.

“REALLY?” I shouted.  “After last night, now I am about to get stuck in an elevator?”

I hit the intercom button next.  “Hello? Can you help me?”

No response.

Suddenly the elevator belled chimed, but the car didn’t move.  It was still on floor 6.

“Hey out there!  Can you get me out?  Get help!” I started slapping my hands on the metal doors.

Normally, I don’t get claustrophobic or even nervous inside elevators.  But I was still a ball of nerves from the encounter the night before and this just didn’t feel right.

The elevator bell chimed again.

I shivered as it was somehow getting colder in the tiny elevator.

Hitting the intercom again, I screamed, “WAKE THE FUCK UP!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!”

Another bell chime and then the lights cut out.  Once more I was standing in complete darkness, scared witless.

Then the elevator doors opened slowly.  The lobby on the 6th floor was also pitch black.  Nothing could still be seen, only heard.

Do I run?  What’s happening?  I began to hyperventilate.  Where are all the lights?

A fourth bell chime.

The elevator floor shifted with new weight – someone had stepped inside next to me!  They never said a word.

I held my breath for what seemed hours, tears streamed down my face.

He was back.  And deep down, I knew he would be.  I could hear his wispy breathing, smell the grey-green muck from his boots and feel his eyes crawl all over me!

I was completely frozen in place.

Right by my left ear, “Three days… I will have you in three days.”

Screaming like I was on fire, I bolted out of the elevator and down the hallway of floor 6.

 

 

…ØØØ …

Two hours later, security (my “heroes”) found me balled up under a desk in the Payroll Department.  I had bitten each of my fingernails off and somehow tore the skin off three toes when I lost my shoes.

Work has imposed a “vacation” for my own good, however, they did admit to me that they found mud tracks in the hall and elevator.

Today is January 22nd — the third day since this started.  I won’t let Rayray leave my side in the apartment and I keep my cell phone charging.

I am not insane (I wish I was. Then there was a chance for a cure or some wonder drugs to put me into a stupor!).  Nothing like his has ever happened to me and no one in my family has ever had issues with mental health.  I don’t do drugs or drink much and live a pretty normal, healthy life.  I am so lost!

It never occurred to me how many times a day that I am alone.  We all are alone at least six to a dozen different times during the day.  Car rides, bathroom breaks, eating in the breakroom, working late at your job, shopping through the clothes rack in the store, reading in your bed at night, alone in the grocery aisle… elevator rides.  We all take it in stride.

 

But what if something really is hunting me when I am all alone??

Four days… I will have you in four days.

Four days… I will have you in four days.

Four days… I will have you in four days.

Four days… I will have you in four days.