Marcie sat there, thoughts racing through her mind. Had her mom come back from work because she had forgotten something, and seen that Marcie wasn't really sick? Impossible on three counts. Firstly, she would have heard her mother drive up. Secondly, her mother never carried a key, so they only way for her to get in the house was the garage, and Marcie would have heard that. Thirdly, the voice was defiantly male.

Marcie turned around slowly. She sat on her computer chair, dumbfounded, a list of unpublishable swearwords racing through her head. She would have rather it be the Grim Reaper himself standing there than these two figures.

Marcie opened her mouth, and closed it again. Repeating this process a few times before she finally she whispered. "Impossible."

A message appeared on her computer screen. She unconsciously turned around to look at it.

Marcie, are you all right? This is no time for your childishness. I need you to stay in contact with me until I can take more measures to keep you safe.

Marcie turned back around, trying to hide her fear. She failed miserably. She sat up straight, facing Jon Spiro and Arno Blunt with a look of pure terror on her face.

Spiro repeated himself slowly. "Would you mind telling Tyr that he is dead wrong about keeping you safe."

Marcie looked at Spiro, dumbfounded.

Spiro smiled. "But I suppose you know him as 'Artemis'."

Marcie racked her brain for one intelligent thing to say. 'Shouldn't you two be in jail?" She said dumbly. So much for finding something smart to say.

Blunt laughed. "Stupid thing about fairytales, they lie to make you children feel safe at night."

Another new message pulsed onto the screen. Marcie, there is not time for this. I do not care if you send me one of your extremely pathetic insults; just please reply.

Marcie sat there, thinking of her chances if she ran. Slim to none she decided, due to the fact that Blunt was standing right in front of her door and her window was two stories above a briar bush.

Spiro's patience seemed to be depleting. "Message Tyr, or we'll do it for you."

Marcie began typing, her hands were shaking so much that she had to go back and correct about a million typos. Artemis, Tyr, I don't know what the hell you were trying to save me from! But Arno Blunt and Jon Spiro are standing in my room right now, and I want a fucking explanation!

Spiro read it over and clapped in childlike glee. "No time for that." He said almost too happily. Then he nodded to Blunt.

Blunt walked over a caught Marcia by the arm with one large hand. He pulled her out of her chair and propelled her towards the hall. Fear has a funny effect on people, because as Marcie was being half dragged down the stairs in her house she wasn't thinking of the chances that she would die, or get hurt. No, the only thing going through Marcie's mind was the fact that she hadn't had a chance to change out of her pajamas.

Good? Bad? Be truthful. I know this chapter is short. I'm sorry.