Pre games and all stories: Sam and Doctor Swan
The Man Who Sold The World
"Night, Doc!"
Swan glanced up at the farewell, giving a tight lipped smile and a small wave to the young security guard at the main door of the hospital.
He threw his bag full of paperwork and files into the back seat before slipping into the driver's seat.
He had a long trip ahead of him.
His wife, although he loved her, had expensive tastes. To that end, she refused to live within a perfectly respectable district not far from his work. So now Swan faced an hour if not longer commute across the city to their immaculately kept home.
A few metres out on his drive, Swan turned on the radio. It was nice to have music or random chat to pass the time. The speakers hissed a little before they switched to the station he'd listened to on the way to his work that morning and straight into a long diatribe by another angry politician to another. Not that Swan cared. He just needed the distraction.
The cityscape passed by swiftly as he used every shortcut he knew to bypass the traffic hotspots.
Just halfway across newest bridge constructed across the Hudson river, the radio hissed and cracked.
The bickering men disappeared into the strange hissing noise he'd normally associate with a lost signal.
Before he could even swipe the screen to reach another station, the static cleared.
A song started up, one he recognized.
"Heh! Didn't think they played these old relics still," he chuckled while the song blasted out its electronic beats.
Swan sang along contentedly.
"... I spoke into his eyes I thought you'd died alone! A long long time ago!"
The young man carried the squirming bag to the water's edge before he braced to throw it into the depths.
Something hit his hand, causing him to drop the bag and clutch it with the uninjured one.
After a brief search he found what had done the damage. Someone had thrown a the lit end of a cigarette at him. He snarled, ignoring the kittens breaking free from their confinement and scattering into the bushes.
Just out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a man with vibrant red hair walking along the bank, heading towards where the bridge met the junction for the tunnel.
He chased after him, shouting at him to stop and explain himself.
Just as he reached to grab him, the man spun and caught him instead. He was lifted easily off his feet and held suspended in midair.
The man's eyes... they were empty. Just holes of pitch black.
"Oh no," the man started singing creepily. "Not me. I never lost control."
He was suddenly flung backwards and crept backwards on the ground as the redhead advanced on him.
The singing stopped only to be replaced by a voice that rang out like the dull toll of a church bell. "You should run home, little boy. Now."
He didn't need any more encouragement.
The bag and kittens forgotten, he ran from the strange singing demon who stared after him with eyes of pitch.
It started to rain. Heavy, thick and unyielding.
Obscured though his screen was, Swan was desperate to pass the slower car in front.
"Well, shit," he mumbled. The exit he needed wasn't far. He'd slow down at the junction. It'd be worth it if he could get past the guy keeping him pinned in.
The song continued to wail pleasantly to his ears.
"... must have died along, a long long time ago..."
Swan spotted his opportunity, a small gap between him and the car in front.
He hit the accelerator.
"Who knows! Not me! We never lost control!" Sam sang with a vague cheerfulness as he stepped off the path and onto the road, eyes focused ahead on the car barreling towards him.
Swan desperately swung his car sideways to miss him.
It hit the verge with speed, crumpling around the tall metal bollard secured there.
In the dim haze of his mind post crash, as he lay crushed against the airbag with his hearing muted and tinny, Swan heard a familiar voice sing.
"You're face to face..."
He wanted to scream, to shout out that he knew this man, this red head who appeared at the window of his broken car and smirked at him.
"With the man who sold the world," Sam finished carefully.
He lit a cigarette, watching idly as pedestrians and other drivers stopped to call for help and see if there was anything they could do to help the trapped Swan.
"Hello, doc," Sam said quietly. "You and I need to have a little chat. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other. Because of Sarah."
Swan blinked, a hoarse breath expelling from his lungs.
"Oh you should be dead," Sam continued. "But you're not. Get comfy, Doctor Archibald Swan. You're not going anywhere yet."
The red head sat on the opposite of the bridge as he watched the emergency crews work at freeing the man trapped within the car wreck.
"Oh my! What happened?"
Sam mused, "An accident. Terrible really."
He idly pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and handed it to the bemused old woman who asked about the crash.
"What are you doing?"
"You got a little girl who wants to go that dance thingy. That'll get her a nice dress for it and have enough left over to heat your house and get some food in."
Mrs Olivieri stared at him. "Do... Do I know you?"
Sam gave a weak smile. "You did. Once. Only once. Take care of my Janey, Mrs Olivieri."
She blinked and he disappeared from sight, leaving only the money in her hand.
"Sam?" she breathed out.
