AT LAST! The next chapter of Harry's journey into the Heart of Darkness. Sorry I have kept you waiting, I hope you enjoy it.

Please leave a review and enjoy reading.


The Line

Act 1

Chapter 2

Brave New World

Harry gasped at the sight he witnessed as he followed the dubious, two faced man to a seemingly endless highway. The fresh, warm wind danced around his body towards the deserted and rotten highway. Hundreds of cars lay dead on the highway blocking any chance of passage, their tires gone, vanished long ago. The once shiny carbon and steel of a Lamborghini or a Mercedes were rusted and damaged beyond recognition. Time has taken it's toll. Harry watched as his smuggler Wolf jumped over the railing into the midst of the rotted graveyard of steel and flesh. The occupants were still there, decomposed to the bones. Some lay on the deserted street. Some were in bits. Others have already decayed into nothing more than dust with only the most sturdy bones remaining as an eternal monument to this world. Others were still in their cars, their bony fingers gripping the interior of their steely graves. There are so many. Harry thought deeply disturbed as he stood rooted to the ground, his eyes wide in shock at the surreal display.

Harry was so focused on this on unearthly scene that he didn't notice Wolf menacingly marching towards him until he stood mere inches before Harry, glowering at him in badly contained annoyance. Damn it, here I hoped the kid would be able to handle himself he gets shocked out of his wits by a couple of bones... „HEY, you coming up here or what? Or are you afraid of a few little skeletons?" Wolf sneered. His eyes burned, revealing his fiery temper. That seemed to snap Harry out of his daze and his once dull, horrified gaze shifted towards his smuggler. Harry stayed silent and only responded with a burning glare, shoving his way past the insanely grinning smuggler towards the steely mass grave.

Harry walked slowly through the maze of broken cars, rusted steel and decaying bones. A cold chill ran down Harry's spine and the hair's on his neck stood up. It feels like I am walking over someone's grave. Well multiple graves in this case. Bugger, what happened here? Harry could only marvel at the chaos that must've caused this amount of destruction and death. Hellish clouds hung over the jammed highway littered with broken cars and disfigured corpses. Faint screams and ghostly howls of the dead carried by the wind disturbed Harry to his very core. Without realizing Harry muttered just loud enough for Wolf to hear him „What happened here?!"

The smuggler stopped whatever he was doing and eyed Harry curiously, who stood frozen before a broken down car that was ready to fall apart. Their luggage was scattered all over the ground and the remaining human remains would surely haunt a young, inexperienced teenager like the one in front of Wolf. A spark of sympathy arose within Wolf, but it quickly subsided. Emotions get you killed in this world. And we are out in the open for Hunters or any Infected that roam around here. Wolf's instincts which were attuned and honed over the past 20 years were screaming to him, to grab the boy and just keep moving until he was back at his safehouse after the job was done. Inwardly Wolf snorted at the idea of a 'safehouse'. There ain't no safe place in this world anymore. Thought Wolf bitterly as he walked towards the boy and crassly grabbed his left arm, pulling him through the maze of horrifically disfigured human remains. „Don't just stand there boy. We gotta keep going. Now MOVE!" Wolf growled as he roughly shoved the boy through the wreckage of a failed mass evacuation. The boy glared at him and ripped himself free from Wolf's rude grip, cautiously walking a few meters in front of him. His body language spoke of an frightened, weary teenager and his eyes as wide as saucer plates, dancing across the dreadful scenery of destruction and death. All in all he is a mere simple teenager. But so was I.

Memories that were long buried resurfaced, making their into Wolf's mind's eye against his will. Not matter how hard he tried he couldn't suppress the sudden surge of violent memories and the terrible feelings they brought along with them. Wolf hated his past. He hated it with a fiery passion. Wolf kept walking only a few steps behind Harry, not showing any sign of the horrid emotions and memories surging through his mind. Only his right hand shook unconsciously, jerking violently ever so slightly.

Harry tried not to look at the decomposed carcasses that lingered the highway. He tried not to breath in the disgusting smell violating his nostrils. There were just so many and Harry was troubled and curious as one question roamed his young mind. What did this? Harry asked to himself numerous times in these short ten minutes where they have entered this massive carbon graveyard. The last few days were a haze of chaos and Harry's mind still tried to piece some things together. He didn't know where was. He didn't know who kidnapped him. But what Harry did know was that this place was only the beginning of something far worse. It was like the corpses, the road, the world itself yelled at Harry to back down, pleading to him to just turn around and go. But Harry both willingly and unwillingly marched on.

The road was one massive graveyard and carried a heavy ominous feeling, like a road that led towards a hell a person didn't even dare to imagine. The air around the duo was pestered with the rotten smell of the decomposed corpses. Dread, despair crept up, clawing their way into Harry's heart. Down the highway the sun was beginning to set, her bright orange flames enlightening his path ominously. Harry gulped heavily, fighting down the bile in his throat. He did not want to know what was capable of causing so many people to basically flee in the thousands. Harry hoped that he would just go to Boston, get his sister, and then find a way to return to Hogwarts without any complications or having to face the unspeakable horrors which, undoubtedly lay before him. But Harry knew that this was just wishful thinking. Harry knew it would turn bad, he just didn't knew how bad it would become.

Wolf's hand danced over his sawed of shotgun, double-barreled Lupara. It's literal meaning was 'for the wolf' which fitted the smuggler perfectly. Wolf remembered how he got this gun for the first time, almost four years after the infection. Ripped it out of the deathly stiff grasp of a dead Stalker; treasure hunters of the post-apocalyptic world, near the USS Little Rock at the Naval/Military Park of Buffalo and Erie County. At the time he was only nineteen. Now he was a grown man, a survivor, a killer. And he liked it. Now after a youth of pain and misery, he, Wolf; was on top of the food chain. It is true the Apocalypse does turn the tide. Wolf thought with a wolfish grin.

Harry guessed they had walked for almost two hours through the devastated refugee caravan which had effectively blocked the highway. At first Harry didn't why they were going down this highway to Hell but once he dared to look at Wolf, Harry saw him going through the wreckages taking everything the man deemed useful. Or what his greed desired. A disgusted frown found its way to Harry's face as he angrily turned around and continued to walk over the vast numbers of corpses beneath his feet following a damned path.

The sun has almost disappeared and only a slight shimmer over the horizon remained as the darkness claimed its previously stolen place. Stars began to appear. The warm, comforting weather made room for the ruthless. cold wind tormenting an already frightened Harry. It's like the Dementors all over again. The cold, cold wind banishing any warm, happy thoughts, replacing them with dread and fear. Gathering up his courage Harry turned to the smuggler and couldn't keep himself from throwing a disdainful look at him as he asked „It's almost dusk. When do we rest?"

Wolf jolted his head back arrogantly and sneered „Not yet, boyo. I plan on getting at least five kilometers close to Yarmouth. There is a little hideout I've built myself down the road only a few hundred meters or so down the highway. Now quit complaining and march on."

Harry gave a deep, defiant growl before continuing on the track. His legs buckled, sweat wet his clothes thoroughly and Harry had no doubt that he would catch a cold in this bitter, freezing night. Harry sneezed violently when he heard the smuggler calling for him, yelling, „Boyo, we're here! The building to our left on the US 1N."

Harry blinked confusedly before he dumbly, with almost childish naivete asked, „On the what street?" Wolf didn't even slow down his pace to talk to him as he merely glanced over his shoulder, annoyance and frustration clearly audible in his voice, „US Route 1! Now move your lazy ass! Or you sleep outside!" With that final threat in mind, Harry quickly jogged behind the smuggler and followed him, looking forward to some rest. The smuggler nimbly jumped over the railing and crossed the secondary road and casually walked over to a barricaded building. Harry walked past a large building which has largely collapsed in on itself. A few wrecked cars had parked there. Most of the parked cars seemed to have been stripped of anything useful, leaving only the outer shell. Right on the opposite side of the road was another building. The paint was worn down, a few bricks were missing and grass had entangled large parts of the building's exterior. It was a small house but large enough to house a family. Part of the roof seemed to have collapsed. The windows had been busted and lay in shards across the ground.

Harry walked closer towards the house and slowly small dents and holes became visible. Wolf stood by the entrance of the house, his patience waning as he waited for Harry. The Cars in front of the house were destroyed beyond any recognition. Bullet holes and large black dents covered their exterior. Three lone caresses lay on the ground, fairly separated from the one another. The first one was either a man or woman, Harry could not tell the difference anymore as the decay has taken it's toll on the corpses, leaving nothing but brown, grayish bones in its wake. The second body or rather remains, lay a few meters in front of Harry beside a wrecked car. There was nothing left of the body but the legs. The area where the torso and the rest of the upper body should have been was missing. Instead the ground seemed to have been overgrown by a weird dark yellow substance. The substance seemed to be sticking on everything it touched, giving off an unearthly feeling. Faint hairs seemed to grow out of the ground, tainted by the substance and the weeds that were reclaiming the earth looked disturbingly grey like volcanic ash. For a reason beyond Harry's understanding his body and his mind shouted at him to avoid the area at all costs. Shivers ran down his spine and the hairs on his neck stood up. Keeping his eyes on the substance, Harry gave it a wide berth. Without looking, Harry's foot collided with the third body. He gasped in shock, his feet tangled around the carcass and before Harry could gather his senses he fell to ground face first, looking in horror at the mutilated face of the carcass. It was a male not older than forty. His eyes were missing, seemingly ripped out. His mouth was wide open and the facial expression, one of shock and fear, was carved into his battered, cold face. The top of the head was missing just above the eyebrows. The skin seemed to have sunk into the hole where the brain should have been.

Harry's face paled and his eyes widened in horror. Harry opened his mouth to scream when he felt a strong hand on his mouth while another grabbed him the neck of his shirt. With a violence Harry hadn't even witnessed with his Uncle, he was pulled up to his feet and quickly pulled into the ruined house. His vision became blurry as he was thrown backwards, landing on his back. Dust arose from the floor and filled his lungs. Violent coughs escaped from Harry's throat as his body rejected the dust that was invading his lungs. Harry shook his head he tried to stand up only to be pushed back to the ground by the strong man. Harry felt anger cursing through his mind and with an angry snarl he began to lunge at the smuggler. But before Harry could even get back to his feet, the smuggler threw himself at Harry. He grabbed Harry's right arm and twisted slightly as they both fell to the ground. A pained groan escaped Harry's mouth as he lay on the dirty floor on his empty stomach, the knee of the smuggler sitting firmly on his cheek as he locked Harry's favourite arm between his deadly hands.

„Little fucker! What is wrong with you, huh? Why don't ya get a megaphone and announce to every fucking sicko and twitcher in the area that their dinner is READY?" Wolf growled dangerously in Harry's ear. Harry could feel the sheer rage vibrating from this man, every word was seeping with anger. Harry opened his mouth to speak but was immediately silenced as the smuggler increased the pressure on his locked arm. „You fucking shut your mouth! Got it?" It was a rhetorical question, Harry knew as the smuggler spoke without even giving him a chance to respond. Not that he had one anyway. „Some ground rules: Number one: You keep your mouth shut and only speak when spoken to or when I say you can speak. Number two: No loud noises. Keep it to yourself. And stay fucking silent. I don't even want to hear a fucking pin drop when we are next to some fucktard cannibal or some ugly ass twitcher. And Number three: You do what I say, when I fucking say it. When I tell you to jump, you don't ask how high, you just fucking jump. When I tell you to stay put and don't move, you don't move a goddamn limb."


There was a silence so thick it was almost suffocating. Slowly Wolf eased his grip on the pinned arm of the young boy and lifted his knee from the boy's cheek. With a snarl Wolf nimbly stood up and briskly walked across the room settling himself into a far corner. His back was against the wall, his eyes never leaving the door or any other opening.

Harry gasped as he felt the weight on his cheek lift and his arm released from the iron griplock. Instinctively curling into a ball, Harry brought his right arm close to his chest and stumbled out of the room where Wolf had picked his sleeping place. Harry couldn't even stand to be in the same room with that man. The hallway was muddy and littered with all sorts of debris. Fallen pictures and bits of furniture lay scattered around Harry's feet. Harry carefully searched each room of the ground floor, only to find utter and complete chaos. Plants were growing out of the dead wood that was once the wall to a waiting room. Dozens of chairs lay scattered on the ground covered with mud, plants and rotten paper. The plants had grown and prospered, turning the room into a Florida room. Harry carefully closed the door as it creaked shut. The door hinges groaned in pain at the effort. Harry grimaced at the noise he unwillingly made and continued his way to search the house. Dust arose from beneath his feet as Harry walked to the far end of the hallway towards a half-ripped out staircase.

This house is giving me the creeps! Harry thought warily as made his way to the first floor, the stairs crunching and creaking tiredly underneath his feet, signalling the imminent demise of the dead wood. As Harry ascended up the stairs the first floor became more and more visible. The spider webs hanging down from the ceiling. Dark red stains covering the wall. And only a few inches away from Harry face lay a mummified carcass. Harry let out a strangled gasp as he stumbled backwards, almost falling down the stairs. In the last second Harry manages to get a hold of himself on the worn and battered wall, steadying himself ungracefully. Silently thanking his Seeker senses, Harry swiftly yet with great effort collected himself trying to subdue the horror he was facing.

Come on Harry, keep it together. Don't give that bastard of a smuggler a reason to leave you in this hellhole. Shit. Harry steadied himself. In just one day Harry had seen thousands of corpses. Enough for a lifetime. Harry was sure that there would be only more. And after what he had seen on the highway and in this house, Harry didn't dare to imagine how much worse it would become.

With new determination Harry climbed up the rest of the stairs, desperately ignoring the sickening stench and tried unsuccessfully to avert his gaze from the rotten corpse. Shivering, Harry went past the mutilated corpse and entered the first room to the left. The room was simple. Two large shelves on each side filled with numerous worn and damaged books. In the middle was a study desk and sitting there was a skeleton, it's mouth agape and a large hole on the right side of its head. Whoever the person was, he or she died long ago. An open book lay on the table in front of the skeleton. Harry gulped before he moved towards the long decayed skeleton. Carefully Harry grabbed the open book as quick as he could and left the room as if the devil was hot on his heels. Quickly dashing down the stairs Harry searched for a quiet place, sat down on the ground and began to read the battered book.

The writing was neat and tidy, reminding Harry of his female best friend. Harry's eyes shone with nostalgia as a loving smile broke through his dirty, tired face as fond memories of his dearest friend resurfaced.


May, 19th 2013.

Finished. At long last my private practice can be opened. That almost cried for Denner family dinner at our favourite Italian restaurant. Eveline and the children will love it.

July, 6th 2013.

Business is running scarce. Only had a few clients last month. I hope it gets better soon. Still, we can live on our savings till next Christmas. Hopefully. Eveline working as a job adviser is really helping but...to be dependent on your wife while YOU, the patriarch of the household, is running a failing private practice...No. It will get better. I can't let my efforts and sacrifices squander into nothingness.

September, 20th 2013.

It's Abigail's birthday. 13 years old my goodness feels almost like yesterday when Eveline still carried her in her womb. Time passes too quickly for my liking. Hell, I'll have to look out or the next day she'll come home with a engagement ring on her finger. I am a bit overprotective ain't I? I guess what Eveline said all this time was right after all. Gotta buy her something good, something worthy for my dearie. I just wish the practice would run as good as it should. Even less patients than last month. Eveline is starting to get worried. I know it isn't even a year but with an economy like this we don't want to take any chances. We were already to close to closing once. Ain't gonna happen again.

Harry frowned as he continued to read the journal. The family has just established themselves a bright, prospering future. They were happy but the façade seemed to crumble while the father desperately fought against an inevitable fate.

October, 30th 2013.

No patients. Curiously enough it is the flu season. So all I have to do is to wait until the people bite the bait so I can reel it back in and cure them. For money of course. This is fucking boring. Currently I am sitting alone at my desk and writing lazily into my diary and finances book. The radio is saying all sorts of crazy things today. Some kind of riots in the cities. Seems like they're spreading. They say that people should stay in their homes and watch out for the rioters. Fucking Tea Party movement. Brainless punks. Let 's just hope some are winding up at my practice with their pockets full of green fortune.

Curiosity arose within Harry as a dark ominous feeling hovered through the festered air.

...

Apparently these riots are nationwide. They seem bad enough for the government to enforce Martial Law. Region hit the hardest is the South. Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi all are getting looted and devastated. The rioters are, according to the news, highly aggressive, relentless and brutal and should not be approached. So far there has been 13 reported deaths in Austin alone. The reports are messy and inconsistent. Abigail and Jake are already in bed, Eveline's calling me. Hope the President get's this thing sorted out quickly.

A dreadful feeling claimed Harry's body, clenching his heart tightly. So this is how it began...I already have a feeling how it ended for the writer. Blimey. Harry thought. It was a depressing thought reading about the life of a real person who had a happy life, a family, and otherwise normal problems. Happy moments and sad memories were laid bare before Harry. He could imagine what had happened to the family even though he didn't want to.

October, 31st 2013

It's chaos out there. Just in front of OUR home two THINGS disemboweled a man. Woke up to the sounds of gun shots close by. Turned on the TV...just as they shit-canned a 'Possible Biohazardous Outbreak'! We are getting our stuff, getting into our car and joining the Evacuation caravan led by the National Guard.

The writing was now grotesquely twisted, scribbled quickly completely untidy. Harry had to look twice to decipher what the writer had written.

I don't know how long it has been but the Evac is gone. Dozens of those trying to flee, were infected without even knowing it. I am still quivering in terror after what had happened OUT THERE! Dammit. The Protection Detail of the National Guard were butchered along with our sorry asses and the Soldiers lost their nerves and started to shoot at everything that moved, infected or not. It was utter chaos. We barely escaped with our lives. Eveline almost got shot and Abigail was spooked by a crazed woman with bright red eyes. Blood red foam was pouring out of her mouth, eyes and nose. Oh God. If she would've got hurt...I remember how I just watched in shock. Completely frozen as the woman lunged herself at my baby girl. Managed to pull her off my girl in time. There was so much blood. We've barricaded ourselves in our home. The news say that Military units will soon come in to get the people who didn't manage to get to a safe distance or a reception camp. So all we have to do now is to sit tight and wait for the Army to come. I am not that optimistic but my family doesn't have to know that.

Harry's breath caught within his throat. So it is some kind of sickness. I wonder if the disease is still lurking out there in this damned world. A shudder surged through Harry's body as he unconsciously imagined how it would have been like in these dark times. To be the father trying to protect his family in a world that was once peaceful, full of life and opportunity for his children turned into a hostile alien world. Harry didn't know how he would have reacted.

I don't know what day it is but this is my last entry into this book. 10 years. I think. Is it already 10 years? Maybe just 8 or 5, I don't care anymore. Abigail, Eveline and now Jake. All dead. They left me alone in this godforsaken world. I didn't know she was bitten. Eveline was about to break. She did break. Gone was the beautiful young woman I met at University, who captured my heart with her wit and her kind eyes. She followed Abby two years later. And now Jake. Once again I was forced to kill my own blood. Broke my leg at the stairs during the fight. I deserve it. I can only hope I can join my loved ones up there and flip the finger at the fucker in charge over there. Even hell would be nice though I believe I am already in hell. With shit happening here and my life without you, I can see no difference between the two. I remember how we waited for almost 2 months fighting off rioters, infected and looters. Faintly hoping for the Army to rescue us. I don't know when we gave up hope. Over the years the infected and the horror and the surviving 'HUMANS' slowly stole away our sanity. With each day our normal lives were drifting further and further away...I am tired. My trusted revolver will have one last target. The world burns, humanity's time has come and yet even at face of extinction we find new ways of butchering our own. Maybe Man deserved everything that has happened. Please, whoever finds this journal and my corpse, please bury me and my son Jake, the body at the stairs in our backyard where my wife and daughter rest. My time has come. Abigail, Jake. My Eve. My love. I'm coming.


Harry closed the book with a heavy sigh. His eyes were closed, suppressing the tears threatening to leak out. His suspicions were true. It sunk into him. They did not deserve something like this. Nobody does! Suddenly a thought shot through his mind, alerting his senses in nanoseconds and dread he had never felt before washed over his body. 2013...it's the future. 30 years in the FUTURE! That means...HERMIONE! If this was the future what had happened to Hogwarts, Sirius, The Weasley's and Hermione?

Does that mean Hermione will die whatever I do?! No I don't even know if she did...get hurt in this future. Maybe this Outbreak is only focused on America itself?! It gotta be! Hermione is most likely fine. She is fine. She is alright. She isn't hurt. I wouldn't allow it! But does that mean what ever I do Hermione will still have to suffer trough this hell? I gotta find a way back with my sister and prevent this from happening! I'll find a way! Maybe this is why they sent me here? As a warning? It must be. But why kill my relatives? Not important I have to focus on the facts. In 2013 a cataclysmic Outbreak will occur threatening everything I love. I cannot allow it. I have to get my sister, find a way back into my time, warn everyone what is going to happen and prevent this event from happening. Harry's expression changed during his rapid thought exchange from worried and utter horror to steely and grim determination. He knew for the first time since landing in this dark, dystopian future. He would save his sister and warn everyone back home of the threat. This threat dwarfed even his archnemesis Voldemort. It was something Harry could not allow. But he was a mere child. A teenager. How could he possibly achieve this tremendous task?

Harry shook himself and glanced back at the journal in his hands. His vision was blurry and only now Harry realized that he had wept silent tears. Brushing them away Harry remembered the last wish of the writer. The once proud, happy family father. Now he was only a broken, miserable collection of rotting bones. Harry gulped heavily and steeled himself for what he was about to do. He would respect and fulfill a dead man's last wish.


Brilliant bright stars shone brightly beside the large, enlightening moon. A sharp cold wind blew through the area and delicately tortured the young boy with raven black hair. His clothes were covered in mud. His hands were filthy and dozens upon dozens of scratches had torn open his hands. An improvised shovel out of wood and a few kitchen tools lay broken on the ground. One of the things Harry had learned while living with his abusive relatives was to improvise. When he was 10 Harry had successfully built himself an improvised lock pick so he could get some food, when he had once again been imprisoned in his cupboard for something trivial. Like breathing too loudly...Harry thought bitterly and quickly cast the painful memories aside.

He looked at his work warily, respectfully. There were two freshly dug graves, side by side. Slowly Harry planted the journal on the grave to his right. Numerous loud cracks and yells disrupted the peace causing Harry to flinch instinctively. They seemed to be far away, but Harry had no idea what was causing them. The blood curling screams that echoed through the cloudless sky disturbed Harry to his very core. They were dark and ominous and the sounds of brutal, relentless fighting moved closer, unwavering, with every passing second. Harry shook himself, trying to subside the chills haunting his body and the feeling of the coming horror.

With steeled determination Harry softly whispered "I know it is probably a very, very late reunion and...Christ, I am not good at this." Harry stopped and coughed uneasily before he continued "I have read your journal. You have led a happy life. Had a loving family. Built yourselves a prospering future. I also have seen a few family photos. Abigail was a beautiful little girl. Full of life. Always having a joyful, wide smile on her face. In all the pictures I saw she was...I can't imagine what it must have felt like going through...this. She didn't deserve it. Neither of you had deserved something so terrible like this. I hope you are all united once more in a better place." A loud explosion shattered the mourning silence. Harry, his heart thumping nervously, was silent for a few moments, listening carefully for any suspicious noises. Nothing. Harry released a relieved sigh and stayed silent, paying his respects to the deceased.

Unbeknownst to Harry, the smuggler Wolf stood in the shadows of the opened door, skillfully hiding from any curious pair of eyes. He had watched the entire scene with an unreadable expression. His face gave nothing away of what this current thoughts were. Of course he had noticed that the young boy had sneaked through the entire house gathering equipment for God knows what. Well now I know his reason. It'll get himself killed to be like this. Wolf thought angrily. But it quickly diminished as a small part in his mind, a long forgotten, long-buried part of himself spoke up saying, There isn't much of this kindness left in humanity. The world has turned to the worse. Tell what would have you done if you had found the bodies. Probably looted and stripped them to their bones. Yet this boy fulfills a long forgotten last wish of this family in an act of natural kindness.

Wolf snorted inwardly, clearly amused at that thought. And that's whats gonna get you killed. A Clicker or a fucking Hunter won't give you that kind of kindness or mercy. They'll gut him alive. There isn't any room for feelings like this. Kid has to learn it. Either my way or the hard way.

Wolf turned around and soundlessly moved back into the house to his sleeping place, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Harry gave each the graves a respectful nod, turned on his heels and went into the building. Just as he touched the backdoor Harry stopped dead in his tracks as a chilling feeling numbed his senses and the hairs on his neck rose up. The bone chilling thought, the primal instinct of being watched by an unseen predator echoed and screamed in his mind. Carefully, Harry turned around and let his eyes wander over the treeline and the surrounding area. Now I'm imagining things...Harry thought warily as he shook his head and went inside.

Terrible howls and screeching noises pierced through the cold nighttime air and more explosions broke the eerie, uncomfortable peace of the night. In front of the broken private practice, unknown, unnoticed by this terrible world, an invisible pair of eyes carefully watched over their important investment. The events have been set in motion. The boy did everything as expected and planned beforehand. This time everything will work exactly as planned.