A/N: As a note, if you haven't seen my previous post in this (speaking of guest reviewer) I'd suggest you have a look at it, it's basically a thank you for giving me criticism, I will also echo this here, thank you for your opinion, I agree with what you put, an... well, I'd suggest you take a look at the previous upload. And chapter 29, the beginning of Part 3 - The Search for the Masters Son.

(update as of 04/06/16) I have found that reading throuh my most recent uploads, that they are sloppy and just in general poor storytelling, so to rectify this I am going to be editing my first draft heavily until it has reached a margin of quality that I actually expect of myself and my content. Thank you for reading this far, I'll probably upload in a month or so.

Chapter 29

I awoke with my head against Damian's bare chest, his arm wrapped around my waist. I remembered what had happened last night, and cringed as memories flashed back. I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I had embraced the 'glorious sin' that Lucas proclaimed me to have, and it was awful.

When Damien had even come to like me? I did not know. That was something that confused me when I woke. There had been no signs, no indications, yet we had just had sex only some hour previous. Was it just a thing to calm me down? I paused my racing mind to a grinding halt to try to rationalise what had happened. Was it to calm himself down? I had no idea what he had been doing before I even got there, and the suddenness of that night speared light into my thinking. That had not been an act to calm me down, but it was something for Damien's own internal affairs. I would have been angry with him if I were not in such an awkward position.

At the thought, I became uncomfortable. I did not love Damien in that sense, he was my best friend, undoubtedly, but anything above that was a horrifying thought. He was no lover yet we made love. It was awkward and odd to remember, at the time it was pleasurable, but in retrospect I found it appalling, something I would hate to experience again. Especially with Damien of all people.

It was primal, I realised, something that had just happened in the spur of the moment, he did not love me in that sense as well. He could not have, it was a thing of the moment, and it was nothing less.

Damien suddenly moved his other arm to my hair and began stroking it. It felt wrong, at least for me, he seemed pleased enough but I felt like his hands were dirty to be caressing my scalp. When I looked up, I saw him smiling absentmindedly, his crimson irises going off into some other dimension. He still had no idea of the horrors that I had witnessed. I was so glad of that, I just allowed myself to think on nothing, and I tried to ignore his movements.

"I really love you Phillip," he admitted, lazily placing one hand over my chest, the hand felt as cold as metal. "Ever since I saw you outside my window I felt something for you, last night I... I knew. I just knew it." His words were tired and he wasn't thinking straight, give it a couple of hours and he'd realise his mistake, my mistake, and then we'd be in question of our friendship. With an upset sigh, I figured that the night was probably the thing that snapped our friendship like a flimsy twig. A thing that was both our faults. I couldn't be bothered to shed tears.

"I know," I simply replied, finally gaining the energy to raise to look him right in the eyes. He seemed shocked at my monotone voice and the absolute lack of care in my gaze.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed me again, rough and with the passion of an artist painting their magnum opus. I could feel his crotch against my thigh and before it escalate any further I detached myself from him. Quickly and almost mechanically I got out of bed and began dressing myself, stiffly.

"Are you ok?" he asked with worry.

"I need to get dressed and check on Kenneth and Karen," I explained and he nodded, smiling at me before falling back into his pillows.

He was back to sleep by the time I had redressed, looking peaceful and calm almost as 'sinless' as I had guessed Karen was. I felt a pang in my chest at the thought of Kenneth and Karen; would she be fine after hearing and maybe even seeing the gunfight? Why had I just ran off gallivanting to Damien when my own actions could have traumatised a child? I couldn't think of enough synonyms for the word fool to call myself.

I wondered what would Damien do if he learnt of it? What did it matter, the last night was the catalyst of destruction; I may as well have just sat down and accepted everything.

My eyes turned to the window and I saw that the entire road had been covered in a blanket of white. I didn't know what else to expect, that everyone would return when Eric and Trent were dead? That was a stupid thought.

Lucas's car was also not in the driveway, and I finally questioned where he was. Perhaps he had gone out to look for Mark, which would make sense, it's not like he would just abandon Damien, he was not like that. No matter how much he scared me it didn't mean he would leave his own son in a dead town.

I left Damien alone to think over his and my mistakes, I'd question if we would stay friends, but sorting out all the more dire problems would come now, my sexual liaisons could come later. Looking unkempt and ruffled, I walked back, when I got into the apartment Kenneth would joke at me and even though it wouldn't be immediate, people would shift back into town and everything would be better. The streets would no longer be dead and hopefully things would all get at least a bit better.

In my head the constant banging rejection to it all broke through, it wasn't going to get better, not for a very long time. I still had the feeling that the nightmare wasn't over, it was far from over and my relief of Damian had only distracted me for a small bit from the inevitable truth. The truth that the nightmare was taking a new stage. Trent would have never been able to kill so many in the mall, no matter who he was, he was still a teenager, anyone larger and stronger would have stopped him quickly. It was someone more experienced who could do that, not Trent. If my constant reading and needless learning could teach me one thing, it was that fact that the nightmare was never finished until every last detail had been picked out, or every suspect was done with.

Suddenly, as I was in the mid point from Damien's house to my apartment, I heard the sound of squealing tires and the grind of heavy wheels on snow.

My paranoia took control and I moved to the side of the nearest building.

The squealing came faster and closer before I nearly missed a white Ford van burst down the road and drift to a turn as if the driver were a Formula 1 driver.

I only caught a glimpse of the driver as he drove down, and in that glimpse I saw dirty blond hair and a green jacket.

My run back to the apartment was as quick as I could make it.

The entrance to the complex had been smashed open, shards as small as grains of sand or long enough to be a blade littering the ground. The actual locking mechanism had been taken out and ripped out; the remains of it had been tossed away.

"Oh… Oh shit," I muttered for the first time in memory.

When I reached my floor, I found that my front door had been completely taken down and was knocked on the floor. The bodies of Eric and Trent were left undisturbed.

I didn't want to go into my apartment, I felt the urge to turn and run, to go back to Damien and forget my problems, maybe even forget Kenneth and Karen. But Kenneth was my friend, and if he or Karen were injured or dead, I would need to see or have it ruin me.

The main hallway was almost frighteningly dark, even though it had the same lighting; it seemed almost eerie and ominous. The coat rack had been toppled to the ground and the two coats that hung were splayed on the ground, flat and splayed like dead men.

"Kenneth!" I called out, only to be responded with complete, dead silence.

Fear gripped my heart and gooseflesh prickled on my skin, each possible scenario that I thought of was more gruesome and horrible than the last.

I made a mad dash for my bedroom but it seemed as if my own footsteps were heavy, almost encapsulated in an icy terror that spread through my body. I slammed the door inwards with a force that I didn't even know I would ever possess.

The room was completely demolished, my bedside table had been smashed inwards, the contents were sprawled across the floor. Blood splatter across the floor.

"Oh no, no., no," I started slowly before elevating my voice to a scream, "KENNETH, KAREN-"

"P-...Pip," said a small whimpering voice that I couldn't pinpoint.

"Karen! Where are you?"

"The… The wardrobe."

I had never seen a child so shaken; she was deathly pale and curled into a ball, when I tried to hug her she just stayed still.

"They took him," she explained with many stutters and whimpers, "those people, they… Kenny told me to hide in here and I did and in the crack I could see them, that one man."

"One man?"

"Kenny knew him… I think he did, but... h-he shouted a lot at him... Is my brother going to be ok?"

I decided to lie, "I think so, I'm going to see if I can get help. But what did this man look like?"

"He had white hair," was all she said and I felt my heart sink to despair.

"Damien!" I shouted, and I burst to my feet. "Stay hidden, I'll… I'll come back to get you I'll… he'll be fine."

When I had safely hidden her back in the wardrobe, which was the safest place I could think of, I quickly grabbed the handgun from the living room and the clips from my discarded clothes. I tried my hardest to ignore the blood.

For the second time I found myself standing over Eric's body and sank down to my knees with tears streaming down my cheeks and sobs and inhales stopping my speech. I couldn't even word my apologies I was so sad, scared and fed up.

I wasn't apologising to Eric though, I was trying to apologise to Kenny and Damien, I would never be able to save them, I would always be to slow. I didn't even think I could kill again, Eric had already been far too much for my own self conscious, any more and I thought I would have gone crazy.

With a long, drawn out sigh I released the last of my tears, wiped them with the back of my sleeve and gripped the handgun tight in my hand. I had to at least try to save Damien and Kenneth; I owed it to them for giving me the greatest glimmer of happiness I had felt in years, and to try and make up for last night's many mistakes.

I had truly never ran so fast in my life, I had never felt winds fly like the lashes of whips to my face and have the sun beat down like a pounding fist on my sweating, exhausted body. I did not halt in my run though, no matter when I stumbled over cracks in the ground or knocked over garbage cans that clanged against my foot, I did not stop my run, not until I reached Damien's road.

My echoing steps of leather on concrete ended with two last long steps before I nearly doubled over with pain, I gripped onto my knees and tried to get oxygen back into my body. I felt as if I would fall over and as if my head had been set on fire.

The world in front of me twisted and turned around like the swirling of water in an unplugged sink; I walked and stumbled foreword, nearly landing flat on my face. I had to get to Damien and Kenneth I had to save them. For once in my life, I would have to actually defend someone else, and that thought terrified me to the core. One mistake and my friends were dead, one mistake and I would be dead.

His front door soon confronted me, with two vehicles in the driveway, Lucas's red Citron and the white Ford van that I had learnt to fear so much. The house was no longer shadowed by the nearby offices, it had now cast its own shadow over me, a shadow that was much more powerful than the office's ones could ever dream of. The shadow itself felt demonic.