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Objects zipped by the window as Johnathan rode in the back of a taxi. As soon as the vehicle was close to the curb he dashed out and onto Hayden's lawn. There was no ambulance, but Johnathan didn't pay much attention to that. He jumped up the steps and halted in front of the unlocked door. The detective bit his lip, cautiously opened the door, and peeked inside. To his surprise Rebecca was already standing there, phone to her ear and hands stained with blood.

"Yes," she said with a trembling voice to the person on the other line, "he's alive, but h - he wont stop bleeding!" Not paying attention to Johnathan, she dashed away to another part of the room.

Johnathan opened the door wider and was hit with the poisoning sight. Hayden was laying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. Rebecca was trying to stop the bleeding by pressing a now crimson tablecloth on his stomach. Johnathan's eyes lingered on the gory wound on the poor man's torso, despite the fact that it made him feel ill to do so. Hayden's face was bruised and scratched from what looked to be some brutal fight. Johnathan couldn't move. Despite becoming accustomed to blood, corpses, and the like, the detective couldn't shake the feeling of horror he had when he saw his dear friend dying on the floor. Something inside him forced him to fly to Hayden and take his arm.

"Hayden!" he cried. "What happened to you?"

His dark eyes snapped over to Johnathan's gaze. For a moment Hayden was afraid, tears welled up in his eyes. "Go," he said with trembling lips, "go away."

Johnathan sat there steadfastly, "I need to know who did this to you."

"Harry," he said louder, "he knows. Ask him!"

Just then, paramedics came rushing in, and Johnathan was pushed away from his friend. The room started to spin, but that didn't matter, he needed to see Harry. He needed to get to the bottom of this. Johnathan ran out the door and called for another taxi, and, after running for a couple blocks, was able to get a hold of one. The whole ride passed by in a blurry flash, and, once again, Johnathan found himself running up the steps of a friend's house.

Paul answered, "Mr. Erickson?"

"Where's Harry?" the words hastily came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Last I remember, he was in the lab-"

But Johnathan had shoved passed the housekeeper and was rushing through the living room before the housekeeper could finish. Johnathn felt his heart race with panic as he passed through the kitchen and into the garden. Withered leaves and branches caught on his legs as he raced to the laboratory door. His fist banged on the old wood as he yelled, demanding his friend to let him enter. The door flew open and suddenly a bottle was jammed into his hands. It was Ernest.

"Take it!" he cried, "Take it away from me!"

Quickly observing, Johnathan saw the label on the bottle, "Cyanide?"

Although the man had gained a some confidence from passing the bottle, he shuddered, "He wants me to drink it."

Johnathan stood there looking at this odd man for the first time. He felt so familiar, yet so much like a stranger. Like when one tries to recall a fading dream. However, panic set in again and the feeling didn't last long.

"Where is Harry?" he asked.

Ernest smirked, "I thought Lorry told you."

"No," Johnathan replied. He paused, and Johnathan remembered who he was talking to. A suspect, a criminal. The detective began to feel light headed. Again he demanded, "Where is Harry."

"He's not dead, I'll tell you that. But," Ernest somberly sat in a chair, "he wants to be."

Johnathan's head was still spinning, and his mind cloudy with fear. He had to clear it somehow, "Two years ago, did you try and kidnap a girl?"

"You mean that brat I saved?" he growled not at Johnathan, but at misinformation.

Johnathan gripped the table.

Ernest sighed, "You should sit down."

No, why should I? "Did you kill Mr. Dan Kingston," he began to ask bluntly, "and Dr. Hayden Lorry."

The strange man opened his mouth to answer, and paused. His tone changed, like a concerned friend, "Johnathan, you need to sit down."

"Answer me!"

"No! Sit down." Ernest stood up in an attempted to tower over him.

His mind was swirling around in every direction, "Did you kill them!" The fog in his mind was so thick he could barely breath.

"Johnathan," Ernest raised his voice and took a step toward, "you know that I'm not a very patient person. Now you sit down in that chair before I - "

Darkness. Nothing but darkness and a bang was all Johnathan sensed before he was lost in his nightmare. The topic of the news that night? Detective diagnosed with DID is arrested for the murder of a local chemist.

Hope that you enjoyed reading this, and thank you for doing so. Please review! And try to keep warm this winter, it's freezing outside!