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Shadows Dance Part II and Conclusion

_ The lens pans up to the top of the Durer Mountains, which are so high and jagged that they seem to be stabbing the sky itself. A finger appears in the image, tapping the spiny ridge of the dark and foreboding mountain range._

_ John: "Okay, the next time we turn this camera on, we'll be all the way up there. So...uh, stay tuned."_

_ The lens cuts again. A rocky ledge gives way to open air beneath the holder of the camera, who leans over the ledge and looks out onto the vast countryside, which spreads out far and wide with roving hills of green and reddish-orange. Gentle forests are scattered and sparse and mostly inhabit areas that were far away. Directly below, at the base of the mountains, is a sprawling plain of tall grass, which at first glance could have been mistaken as a massive green-yellow lake, rippling in the winds._

_ The holder of the camera walks back and turns away, the lens now opening on Sondra as she is attempting to put on a pair of sturdy boots. A heavy duty hardhat hangs askew on top of her head, the chinstraps lolling ridiculously in front of her face and tapping her nose._

_ John: "Well, guess who looks silly this morning?"_

_ Sondra: "You do, asshole."_

_ Sondra grabs a flare and tosses it to John. The cylinder spins through the air like a red propeller at the camera. The camera jumps as John fumbles and juggles the flare._

_ John: "Watch it! Jesus...Do you know how high up we are?"_

_ Sondra: "'Bout a mile by my count."_

_ John: "Yeah, and at this height I doubt my hardhat would keep my head from turning to mush if I fell."_

_ Sondra: "Oh, shut it. What happened to your spirit of adventure?"_

_ John: "Must've left it in my suitcase."_

_ Sondra: "Whatever. Well, get the Trojans, Johnny, 'cause we're heading in."_

_ John: "...In what universe is that considered funny?"_

_ John and Sondra, who is now clad entirely in what appears to be some sort of yellow jumpsuit with orange straps coming off at the shoulders and knees, grab their flashlights and walk closer to the mouth of a cave. Light penetrates a fraction of the opening, which yawns open like a giant's awaiting mouth. Suddenly Sondra turns around and looks at John._

_ Sondra: "Do you know how to mount that camera?"_

_ John: "Huh? Oh, wait..."_

_ Sondra: "Friggin' amateu--."_

_ The camera cuts for a moment, then reappears higher and much more stable than it was before. They walk forward slowly, looking from side to side at the rocky walls. John makes a thoughtful "hmmm" sound and almost walks into Sondra, who has stopped and is staring at a design on the rock wall._

_ Sondra: "Oh, my God..."_

_ There are scratches on the rock face that look like markings. After a few moments of silence, John and Sondra debate whether or not they were designs made by the ancient Homichlophantia or were just scratches made by some animal who wandered up into the mountains. After settling on a draw, they continue to walk into the cave, still looking from left to right, with occasional glances at the floor. It is a wide cave system, wider than what it first appears to be at the entrance. They walk into a chamber the size of a grocery store parking lot, noticing and commenting on the four tunnels on the far side of the chamber leading deeper into the cave. Suddenly the lens jerks left, moving slowly as it scans the rock wall._

_ Then it stops. John mumbles as he sees something the camera cannot._

_ John: "What the hell?"_

_ Sondra: "What?"_

_ The lens moves closer to the spot where it was trained on the wall. As it slowly draws closer, a new image emerges. It is grainy and faded at best, and the dim light of the cave makes it even less visible. John moves his paws and clicks something on, and instantly a blazing light shows the image just a little more clearly. It looks vaguely cat-like, but roots stream downward from where its legs should have been. A long black line vertically splits the image at its center, running down and through the roots. There is a silence as John and Sondra stare at this image. Suddenly Sondra's voice cuts through the quiet._

_ Sondra: "Still think it's an animal?"_

_ John shifts and glances at Sondra, who was grinning wryly at him until the light shone brightly in her face. She throws a ringed paw over her eyes and walks away, muttering curses under her breath. John trains the camera on her tail, swooping pendulously over her butt, which blatantly advertises the tightness of her suit. He glances back at the image on the wall, shuffles about, and the click of a camera shutter can be heard. He then walks to Sondra, who is bent crouching over the cave floor with her flashlight trained on a particular spot._

_ Sondra: "Hey, come over here! Look at this."_

_ John walks over to her, the light of the camera totally obliterating the meager light given off by Sondra's flashlight. As he leans over her, her paw comes up to the light and shows a pawful of jagged rocks and triangles. Lines clearly ran along the length of these stones, bisected by red circles that are heavily faded by age. Sondra turned them over in her paw, muttering to herself about the pottery and utensils of the Homichlophantia. John leans in closer to inspect the fragments. He throws out other possibilities of what the stones could be, but Sondra's harassing tone of refusal forces him to comply with her idea._

_ Suddenly something long and reddish-black and with many long legs darts out from beneath Sondra, who jumps into the air and screams. The camera jerks up and retreats away from the insect, which zig-zags around bumps and crevices in the rocky floor. The lens swerves to the right, trying to locate Sondra. After a short while, John looks to the mouth of the cave and sees the vixen bouncing from foot to foot, keeping her legs shut tightly. He walks toward her, snickering._

_ Sondra: "Son of a bitch...That thing went right through my legs!"_

_ John: "I don't see why you're so upset."_

_ Sondra: "What...Oh, screw you!"_

_ Sondra and John start bickering. A long while after, they begin to walk back into the cave. Sondra keeps closer to John, who moves faster. The places they shine their lights are now much less restricted to the walls and the occasional sweeping of the floor. They now shine their lights on the floor and the walls while also flashing the ceiling. They walk closer to the far wall with the four tunnels, and they start arguing about the history and culture of the Homichlophantia. Another centipede scuttles across the floor, and the image jumps slightly away._

_ Sondra: "Damn, I_ hate bugs..."

_ They walk into the right-most tunnel, trying to keep as close to the center as possible. The walls of the tunnel appear smooth, and they glisten with moisture against the light of the camera. They walk in silence for a long time. Suddenly Sondra's voice cuts in through the silence._

_ Sondra: "It feels like it's going down, doesn't it?"_

_ John: "I can barely tell..."_

_ The outline of the end of the tunnel appears, although the camera cannot register anything other than darkness beyond that point. They exit the tunnel, stepping into the new room, and the image is immediately swallowed up in shadows. John clears his throat and points the camera at his shoes. There is a loud clicking sound, and the image goes black. After a few moments the image reappears in a faded, ethereal green color. The edges of the room are still not visible, but the floor becomes a length of dark green. A dark line curves around some yards ahead--._

_ Sondra: "John?"_

_ John: "Yeah, I'm here."_

_ Sondra: "You got the night-vision on?"_

_ John: "Yeah."_

_ Sondra: "What do you see?"_

_ John: "I think there's something on the floor. Here, use your flashlight."_

_ The beam of yellow-white light appears on the floor, uncovering another design. As they walked a few feet closer, the design came clearly into view, after John turns off the night-vision. It is another feline almost exactly like the first one they saw at the entry of the cave. It has the likeness of a cat, with worm-like roots trailing and branching outward from its feet. Swirling white arrows radiate outward from the feline's body, the tips touching the rim of the circle. There is no vertical bisecting line on this depiction. Sondra leans down and studies the impression. There is another shuffling sound, followed by a loud and rapid clicking._

_ Sondra: "What the hell..."_

_ John: "What is it?"_

_ Sondra: "Look at this. How old does this dye look to you? Its like...somebody put it here just yesterday."_

_ The lens moves in closer. The skull-like visage of the feline now takes up most of the image._

_ John: "Did you hear that?"_

_ Sondra: "Huh? Hear what?"_

_ John: "I don't--."_

_ Suddenly a deep rumble roars into the audio as cracks weave spider webs in the floor. The floor breaks and the lens picks up Sondra's yellow jumpsuit long enough before she falls through. The audio fills with screams from both Sondra and John as vague objects blur in the camera lens. A shoe appears then vanishes. There is another crash and the camera flashes, becoming dark again. Nothing happens for ten minutes._

_ When the image materializes again, it shows a still body lying prone on the rocky floor. Somewhere off camera to the left, a blue light pulses softly. The body twitches, and Sondra raises her head from the floor. The light from the camera shines in her reflective eyes. She smiles and gives a high-pitched giggle. She stretches out her arms and shakily crawls forward. Her hysterical giggling mixes with her gentle whimpering as she reaches for the camera. Her yellow jumpsuit is gouged and torn in several places, and a long, bloody gash dominates the area on her forehead and just above her right eye. She grabs the camera, accidentally scraping it against the ground. The image blurs and stops, looking at the ground. There is a shuffling sound, and the image tilts up, showing a steep wall stretching upward into darkness, engulfed in that soft blue light._

_ Sondra: "John? John, where--."_

_ The lens fills with John's face as he jumps into view. Sondra's gasp is stifled by his paw as it disappears past the lens. His eyes grow wide as he lifts a finger to his lips. He brings it down slowly and looks to his right, where the light is now coming from. The camera blurs to the right, and shows a massive crystalline structure, pulsating with recurring burst of that bluish-white light. The crystal itself was transparent and seemed to move, as though it really were a large mass of gelatin. Inside of it, moving softly through the material was a colossal, amorphous shape, twisting and meandering its dark way within its confines. Tendrils snaked out from the primary shape, which looked indistinctly canine. Two huge arms curl fluidly out from the half-formed silhouette. Sondra whispers._

_ Sondra: "What the hell is it?"_

_ The camera moves back to show John's face, illuminated by the blue light. He looked on at the thing, and shook his head. The camera looks back to the massive silhouette and the pulsating light. Sondra gives another whimper._

_ Sondra: "Shit..."_

_ Suddenly John's finger bisects the image. He is pointing to a spot to the right of the camera._

_ John: "Look."_

_ The image blurs right to another blue wall. For a moment there is nothing, but soon she notices a small pinpoint of light coming through the wall. The camera zooms and focuses in on that point._

_ John: "How do we get up there?"_

_ There is a silence. The lens goes back to the thing in the gelatinous, crystal-like rampart. Its movements are shorter, smaller, and slower. It seems to have taken a definite shape as it curves a hand slowly above its canine ears._

_ John: "We could climb those rocks, and edge our way up to the wall. Dig our way out..."_

_ Sondra: "We don't know what's on the other side."_

_ John: "Whatever it is, it'd be better than being down here. Come on."_

_ The lens shifts as Sondra slowly stands up. John walks in front of the lens passed her. The camera jerks sideways then shuffles about, then slowly walks toward John. The lens still remains on the thing in the gelatin for a few moment then follows John. The wolf is wearing a jumpsuit similar to Sondra, and is also ripped and tattered. The fur on his left shoulder and the side of his neck is matted down with blood. He takes a few steps on the base of the rocks, and then begins climbing. The lens moves in closer and ascends slowly._

_ Suddenly there is deep rumble. The image blurs to the crystal-like structure as a massive, black claw reaches through the viscous material, fingers twitching and clenching as they grasped for something._

_ Sondra: "Oh shit..."_

_ John: "What is it--."_

_ Sondra: "Move faster, John! Go!"_

_ The camera jerks sporadically as Sondra starts jumping over the stones. John's blurry image moves quickly from rock to rock. Then they reach the beam of yellowish light as it peered through the rock wall._

_ John: "Help me dig through..."_

_ The lens blurs back to the thing, which is now almost half out of the translucent gelatin. A large canine head stares up at the camera, framed by a massive chest and reaching claws. Trailing behind it were dozens of thick, black-and-blue tentacles, which are still stuck in the jell-like substance._

_ John: "Sondra, help me!"_

_ The camera blurs downward and lies still on its side. Bits of rock fall sideways as the thing crawls out of the gelatin with its claws. Another deep rumble issues forth. Its lamplight eyes are white and glisten wetly as a hand reaches forward--._

_ The camera blurs again, showing a large hole in the wall. John jumps through, landing on a rocky shelf some feet below. The image jumps sharply, and instantly the ledge is directly in front of the lens. It tilts up and shows John's astonished face, set against a golden-pink sky as the sun slides downward beyond the horizon. The wolf's eyes are wide and he panted heavily. He coughs and looks out onto the waterfall to their right. The water falls down into a huge blue lake below them, framed by a light wood of brownish-grey trees in their last grips of life._

_ John: "What do we do? Son of a bitch...how do we get down?"_

_ Sondra: "I don't know. I lost my rope..."_

_ There is a massive roar crashing forth from the mountain. The camera blurs up and sees a claw with banded black-and-white fur pushing through the opening. It scratches at the face of the cliff, fingernails leaving deep furrows in the ancient granite, showering the lens with marble-sized pebbles._

_ Sondra: "Oh, shit. We--we've gotta get out of here. John, we have to get down--!"_

_ John: "I know!"_

_ John paces the length of the ledge, walking back and forth passed the camera, smacking his forehead with his knuckles. The roaring sound grows louder as he growls exasperatedly. Suddenly he looks down, glances at the camera, up to the grasping claw, then back down._

_ Sondra: "John?"_

_ John: "We have to jump, Sondra."_

_ Sondra: "...What? I don't think we--."_

_ John: "It's the only way, Sondra! We've gotta--."_

_ The ledge is showered by a curtain of rocks and dirt. John and Sondra shout in surprise. A deafening roar engulfs the audio, turning it into a bang of static._

_ John: "Now!"_

_ John leaps off the ledge. His figure grows smaller and smaller as he falls. Sondra growls._

_ Sondra: "Fuck it!"_

_ Sondra jumps. The lens moves rapidly downward, the lake swiftly growing larger by the second. There is a splash as John hits the water first. Sondra makes another ambiguous sound the moment before she hit's the water. The lens flashes, images blurring in and out of focus. It goes black._

_ The image reappears on dry land, showing John bursting out of the water. The lens is still until John bumps into it. He grabs at it, then notices something on the other side of the camera. His wide eyes grow wider still as he lunges forward._

_ John: "Sondra? Sondra, wake up! Hey, come one, now. Wake up! Sondra! Come on!"_

_ There are more shuffling sounds. The lens only sees John's waist and hindquarters, and his tail was tucked snugly between his legs. Suddenly Sondra's weakened voice cuts through the roar of the waterfall._

_ Sondra: "Damn...that was...one hell of a jump."_

_ There are sounds of light laughter. Then Sondra makes another gasp. John jumps up and leaps to the other side of the camera. The lens blurs as Sondra grabs it. It shows the waterfall, a soft mist forming where the water struck the lake. Then it shows, descending slowly from the air, the massive thing that had escaped with them from the cave. The tentacles, greenish-grey in the daylight, swirl and twist over the other where its pelvis should have been. The now canine-looking thing glances to the left and to the right with its glazed-white eyes. It stops just above lake, the tips of its tentacles barely touching the surface of the water. It makes a deep rumbling sound in its throat. Sondra whispers to John._

_ Sondra: "What is it?"_

_ Suddenly the thing gives a tremendous roar, a static-rumble in the camera's audio, and spots them. It moves toward them swiftly, razor-sharp claws reaching out for them, fleshy tendrils trailing madly behind it._

_ John: "Godammit--run!_ Run_!"_

_ The lens blurs and shows John running passed the brown, half-dead trees. Sondra is obviously following him, as the camera begins to bounce up and down and side to side. They run for several seconds, then one of the trees explodes up out of the ground, showering them with damp soil. John and Sondra both scream, and several more trees erupt out of the earth. There is a resounding crash, Sondra curses, the camera flashes, and it all goes black._

*************************************************************************************

Nathan stared at the black screen with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. His hands were clenched tightly about his knees, which were exuding light rivulets of blood beneath his claws. Steven was looking at him, his eyes narrowed.

When the shock of seeing what he had viewed on the screen faded, he shook his head and said "That really happened?"

Steven pressed the "stop" button on the remote and gestured to the television. It instantly turned from black to blue. "There it was, right there. Plain as day."

Nathan couldn't believe it, any of it. Was that really John, his John, running with some vixen, trying to get away from a...thing? Nathan shook his head again, trying to not hear the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Steven still stared at him. "Well, what do you think?"

The little fox blew air through his nose. "What am I supposed to think?" he said. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Now, more than ever, he wanted to talk to John. He told Steven this, who stared deftly at him for a few moments, but then conceded.

"All right, Nathan, all right," he said in a soft, cooing voice that didn't seem to fit him. "We can go to the hospital now. I just want you to calm down first, though."

"I'm calm, Steve..."

"No, you're not, fox. I can hear your damn heart racing all the way over here. Tell you what; I'll go get you something to drink. Alright?" Steve made as if to get up, hovering above the couch as he waited for Nathan's answer. Nathan nodded and agreed, knowing full well that Steven wouldn't let him go to the hospital if he didn't satiate him somehow. If something to drink was all that it took, than knock yourself out, as John used to say.

Steven gave him a none-too-comforting pat on the shoulder and walked up the stairs, leaving Nathan alone with his thoughts. His thoughts, he found, were all such a messed up jumble that he couldn't concentrate. He decided to go upstairs, where the air would seem fresher and not so heavy as it was down here.

He got up and walked towards the stairway when he noticed something. A large black bag was placed between the couch and the writing desk. It was bespattered with dried mud, looking like a wedding cake to some dark and terrible marriage. He wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. It was so large and it stood out so painfully that it was a wonder why anybody couldn't see it. He shifted the zipper to the other side and lifted the lid.

Inside was a black Nikon video camera, its casing horribly scratched and dented. Tiny bits and pieces were missing from its sides. It, too, was iced with dried mud. Nathan picked it up and held it in his paws. He looked at the broken shoulder strap, his yellow eyes roving over the italicized words in golden, Edwardian print:

Property of:

Steven G. Benedict

His heart skipped a beat. Steven's camera....could it be the one John and Sondra used? But why would Steven give John the camera? Steven doesn't even know the wolf. He went up the stairs at a quicker pace, still cradling the camera in his paws.

Steven was at the table, pouring the contents of a wine cooler into two glasses. His other hand was in front of him where Nathan couldn't see. His back was to the fox, but he quickly turned when Nathan spoke.

"What the hell is this, Steven? Is this your camera?"

As Steven's segregate eyes rested on the battered camera, the muscles in his mouth jutted out as he ground his teeth together. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. His muscles in his hidden arm tightened. Nathan threw the camera onto one of the padded chairs of the living room.

"Shit is exactly right, pal. What the hell is going on here? You tell me or I swear to God..."

The big cat grinned, whether out of joy or some other emotion Nathan couldn't tell. "You really shouldn't have seen that, Nathan old boy. No, you really shouldn't have."

"Just what the hell are you getting a..."

Before the fox could finish his statement, Steven brought up his hidden arm and revealed what he had been holding. It was a small hunting knife, and it glistened dangerously in the light of the setting sun that poured in from the window, golden smile. Nathan instinctively took a step back.

"Steven? What--what're you doing with that kn--?"

"You took him from me. You took my wolf away, you little bitch."

"I...what? What're you talking about?"

Steven slowly stepped toward him, eyes glittering threateningly as he tapped the knife against his hip. "Jonathan...You took him away from me. We were together for a long time, quite a long time, ever since our sophomore year. Before we split up, though, I noticed certain changes in him...in the way he walked and the way he thought. He started avoiding me, canceling dates, not returning my messages. I was mortified...but then I realized that it wasn't him that was the source of trouble in our life, it was you. You poisoned my wolf, telling him things about me that you should've kept to yourself..."

"What!? Steven, I've only known you for a few months! You had a girlfriend..."

"Bullshit and lies, all the way down to the chewy center. I knew John wasn't the problem, I could talk him out of whatever spell you had him under. It was you, yeah...you that I had to worry about, had to think about. I figured that if I put you out of John's life, I could get him back."

"Steven, please put the knife away..."

"Of course, I had two opportunities at my feet. If you saw John with that vixen, you could've been so mad at him you'd leave him then and there, making my job that much easier. But that, apparently, didn't pan out. So I have the fabled plan B at my disposal, which, I'm afraid, Nathan...must be done manually. So please get over here, and we can do this easy."

"Steven, please put that knife away. I don't know how you came to think this way, but please believe me, I had nothing to do with you and John. I didn't know you two were--."

"Liar! You insensitive, piece-of-shit little cock-swallowing LIAR!"

Steven raised the knife, pointing it directly at Nathan's skinny chest. "Come over here," he growled. Nathan turned and grasped at the door handle, tugging at it aimlessly until he remembered the locks. By the time he finished unfastening the last bolt, his heart seemed to have jumped up into his mouth and play percussion in his ears. He tugged at the doorknob again, but the door still did not move.

"You need the key," Steven said casually behind him. Nathan turned in time to see the big cat raise the knife above his head. Immediately the fox leapt passed Steven as the knife embedded itself in the wood of the door, where he had been moments before. His stomach struck the sharp corner of a wooden footrest as he fell, but he managed to get himself up in spite of the shot of pain that burst into his side, knowing full well that that knife would hurt a lot more. He ran to the left to the hallway, glancing behind him. Steven had pried the knife from the door and rushed toward him, practically leaping in great strides.

This look back cost him dearly; he collided directly with the wall, knocking the wind out of himself and bruising his face in the process. When he looked up, Steven was standing above him, the sun framing his form into a massive silhouette. Those heterochromatic eyes peered down at him with a gleeful kind of amusement, as though he were watching a particularly entertaining TV show.

"You look so pitiful down there, don't you? That's how you managed to get John, isn't it, fox? Play the role of a wimpy, terrified little vulpine in need of love and attention, and desperately snag onto the first poor sucker who gives you so much as a passing look."

Steven leaned downward, squatting down on his haunches as he held the knife lightly in his fingertips. He continued to stare coolly down at Nathan, who tried to return that same look of collected indifference.

"But you know what, Nathan old boy? You know what happens to the pretenders and the actors in the end? They always get unmasked in the end, and they get to see the masks they've been wearing. What do you think of that? That's deep, isn't it?" Steven chuckled, and the chuckle evolved into a raucous, guffawing laughter. Immediately Nathan seized his chance.

He knew he couldn't wrestle the knife out of the cat's powerful fingers, so he grabbed Steven's massive paw and pushed as hard as he could. The knife plunged upward into Steven's ribs, changing his laughter into a scream of pain and terror. He looked down at the knife and took a step back. Quickly Nathan pushed himself off the ground and faced the big cat, who glared at him in a mixture of shock and fury. The fox swung his right paw at the cat, connecting with his face.

In the heat of excitement, the fox had his claws out.

He felt his middle finger plunge into something smooth and wet, and Steven screamed again, now much louder. He felt the tiny pieces of what had been Steven's one green eye cling stubbornly to his finger. Unconsciously, he wiped his hand on his shirt as he started to get away.

Instantly he felt a vice-like claw on his shoulder, wheeling him around to look into the face of the injured feline. A gaping hole where the left eye used to take up residence in was gushing out blood and some clear-looking fluid that coated Steven's face. His lips peeled back in a snarl of pearly-white razors. He grabbed the knife that was stuck in his chest and wrenched it out, leaving another bloody hole that exuded a fresh quantity of gore. He held the knife up to the fox, who was squirming into the hallway, but was still impeded by Steven's hellishly tight claws.

"Gonna kill you...kill you..." he heard the cat mutter above him. He crawled on his belly, scratching at the hand that held him. Suddenly an explosion of agony roared in his right shoulder as the blade ripped through the muscle and tissue. His right side started to get very hot and very wet. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Only a mass of bile and saliva managed to get coughed up through his throat. Steven pulled the knife out of him, and he felt it go with a delighted sense of loss despite the new onslaught of blood that poured out of the wound. He turned to look behind him and saw Steven slowly pull back his hand for another strike. Nathan kicked out at him, his foot connecting with the big cat's face. Steven gave a dull grunt as he lost his balance and fell over on his side.

Nathan stood up slowly, using his left hand to staunch the flow of blood. When he stood up, the room started to spin and his stomach lurched up into his throat. He leaned against the left wall, breathing heavily as he fought to keep his stomach down. The room started to fade in and out, and gravity seemed to have multiple points of operation. It was a hellishly long wait for it to pass, but it did pass.

There was a growl behind him, and he looked over his bleeding shoulder at Steven, who was now standing as well. He held the knife straight out at arm's length at Nathan, holding it as though it were a gun. He walked forward quickly, still very much on a mission. Nathan turned his body to stare at the cat as he walked backward, matching Steven's awkward strides.

Perhaps it was by chance or by accident, or by some other means, that the most unbalanced step Steven had made was in the small puddle of Nathan's blood. He slipped and fell forward, seemingly in Nathan's mind to be in slow-motion. He went down with a dull crash on the wooden floor. His arm had remained outstretched the whole time, and the knife was the first thing to strike the polished wooden surface. It curved upward in his hand, and it slid easily, fluidly, into his neck as the rest of his body fell. Nathan heard a succession of wet, gurgling sounds as Steven convulsed. After perhaps a minute, he finally lay still, red liquid gently and silently pooling around his face.

Nathan watched all of this as though it were only a dream, and that was what he wished, desperately wished, this whole day was: just some terrible dream. One of the super-real ones that left you cold with terror at just how realistic they were. But this one, to his amazement and horror, really was real.

The more this fact pushed in on him, the more the tears pushed up beneath his eyelids. He walked over to Steven's lifeless body, and leaned against the wall again. He slid down to the floor as the tears finally forced their way out. He cried for hours before finally falling asleep, with his back against the wall. When he woke up, he stepped into the bathroom and allowed his stomach the purging it eagerly wanted. Wiping his mouth, he walked back into the hallway. He stepped over the big cat's body, his expression still and emotionless. He looked through the window and discovered that night had fallen.

Nathan walked over to the phone beside the kitchen counter. His fingers reached out for it, and then stopped as though some unseen force radiating from the phone were stopping it. Nathan slowly took a deep, deep breath, and grabbed the phone. He dialed the number of the hospital.

He needed to talk to John.