Small update for last chapter - When Sam was reminded of Halloween as a kid and then he talks about how they wouldn't drive anywhere… I updated that last part to make it connect with what I wanted it to be about. Here it is for you.
[That day on from his past, they never drove for Halloween. They stuck to their home, letting others come to them all the while they enjoyed scary children's movies.
Sarah stopped that once Maxine was born. For the most part they would walk to other houses, staying close to their own. Sarah and Max both wanted their little girl to enjoy Halloween with her friends instead of how Sarah felt about it.]
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"So I was trying to speak up. Kept yapping on and on and I… punched him in the face… Sam? Then aliens took me on their ship and taught me how to make noodles. Dude are you even listening to me?"
Sam had his head down thinking. Wrapped up in his thoughts as a cool glass of water kept his face from turning into a tomato.
"You'd think it would be cold since it's November." Sam mumbled as he took a drink.
The apartment had air conditioning, but for some reason it decided not to be working.
"Sam, what am I going to do with you? Is it a girlfriend? Boyfriend? What is happening with you? I can't keep doing this."
"I told you Kester, I'm fine. Always have been and will be." Sam got up from his stool and dumped his cup into the sink. "And I was listening… so you punched him then?"
"Huh? No! I would never do that. I get he didn't know English, so I tried to calm him down but he didn't. I just threw a twenty in his face and drove away."
"Really?"
"It only cost like twelve bucks, so yea. It was a good tip, I just won't ever go there again. Wait, where are you going?"
Sam started getting his shoes on. It was at that point that he realized what he was doing. Once he looked back at Kester did he catch himself.
"Why don't we go for a walk?"
"You want to go out there when there is someone called an 'Ice Truck Killer'? How many people has he killed? Twenty?"
"Four, so far." Sam casually answered in response.
"Do you know something?" Kester was grabbing his bag and getting his shoes on too. "I guess as some janitor you see and hear a lot of things. So what have you heard about that security guard they found yesterday? Is he really a victim or did his bff the Ice Truck Killer turn on him?"
Sam turned to his best friend with the most dumbfounded face he could think of.
"Did you really just say that? The man was kept alive as he was tortured for days during the time he was labeled as the killer himself. He didn't do anything."
"Geez I didn't mean it. So where are we going or is it just a walk."
"We'll see…" He looked at his friend and sighed.
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"Sir, can you stop moving please?" The nurse next to Sam was trying to apply the bandage on his arm.
"Sorry about my friend there. He's just afraid of everything these days. Even the curbs- Alright I'll stop."
Sam looked at his friend. He seemed different these days around him. Like Kester believed that he did something wrong and was trying to get back in Sam's good graces. He knew that his friend was smart and strong, more than able to hold himself back during serious moments, but now that wasn't the case. He was over doing it and it was obvious.
Now the whole reason Sam was in the hospital at the moment was because he had tripped during his thoughts. He was trying his best to listen to Kester as they walked to the taco stand nearby, but he couldn't help but think of what would happen next. Tony was found alive. That meant he would be in a hospital, which coincidentally he himself was now in, where a killer was in. Brian would be using some random name or whatever to pretend to be the doctor taking care of his own victim.
"I'm sorry about that. Just felt a chill." The nurse was not having it and just grunted.
"Earlier he was burning up and now he has chills." He said to the nurse before turning to Sam. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm just-"
"Fine? Of course you are. You say it all the time." Kester was getting frustrated at him and he knew it. The problem was Sam didn't want to talk to him. He didn't want to lie or tell the truth. Avoiding the issue all together, even if it was a bad idea, was his only option.
The nurse coughed to get their attention. "Just make sure to stay hydrated and put on sunscreen if you're going to be outside for an extended period of time. You're good to go now."
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After signing some papers, Sam was just about to head out as James and Debora walked past him.
The hallway was pretty wide, so they didn't walk directly next to him. He was standing next to the reception desk as the attendant finished scanning his ID and insurance card.
It was just a glance, but based on their expressions, or just Debora's alone, it would have been around the time she suggested putting a blindfold on Tony.
He couldn't be sure they saw him, but they weren't his problem. No, it was the fact that the doctor taking care of Tony was a serial killer.
"You know them?" Then Kester turned to him again. "Sam, you're so pale!"
"No." His voice came out frustrated. He couldn't let his friend make a scene. He had to get out there safely. "I don't know them. Let's go."
"Relax, I won't ask."
His arm hurt and they did prescribe pain medication to him. He knew he didn't need it and so he didn't plan on picking it up. Rest would be enough.
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The next day he found out that it wouldn't be enough. The pain was too much for him. As he looked at his clock, he saw that the pharmacy closest to him was open. He could pick it up there.
As he got dressed and cleaned himself up, he made a call to Sarah and Max as always. Perhaps there would be a chance they would answer. He hoped. The next call he made was to Jorge and telling him about his injury. Although it was bad, it wasn't a four hour shift bad. Especially when he would get his pain meds.
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Sam was around the police station cleaning the floor. His foot tapped with anxiety. "It's just a police station." Sam reasoned within his mind and he was in the open. Nothing would happen to him.
When he stopped by the pharmacy, not only did he not get his meds, but he forgot his taser. The only weapon that gave him courage to leave his home, was not in his back pocket. At least not in the pants he was wearing.
Defenseless, vulnerable, alone. Emotions appeared to run through his body, quickly replaced with another. Once he hit the last one, it would just start all over. A never ending mess that he couldn't stop as his fear outweighed any logic.
"He probably saw me…" Sam quickly turned to look around for any threats in his sight. Everyone was looking at him.
"I'll go talk to him." It was a familiar voice. One he didn't want to get involved with. Sam's back stiffened and he focused on the woman coming towards him. "What kind of drugs are you on? You're freaking everyone out." He could tell Debora was holding herself back from adding a swear word.
"Sorry." He walked away before he caught Dexter's attention, leaving his equipment behind next to the wall. Sam knew his movements were stiff, but he couldn't help it. He needed to escape without breaking into a full sprint.
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Sam's arm hurt. Pharmacy wasn't open any more. Thankfully he didn't stop because he couldn't keep his body still. Jorge sent him home and for good reason.
As soon as Sam entered his home, his door was locked shut. He couldn't bring himself to leave. His breathing increased. He looked around, because he needed to find the taser.
A loud bang came from one of his walls. Sam threw himself to the ground. Crawled behind the kitchen counter and scrambled for a weapon. There was someone in his home. He should have known.
Dexter? No, he would have had a needle in his neck the moment he entered the door. Brian? How did the Ice Truck Killer hunt? Wasn't it the allure of pleasure with a prostitute?
Could it be a regular serial killer or a one from a later season? Was that why he was here? He hoped that he would have to fix the narrative to match, but so far nothing had deviated… Except himself. What if he wasn't alone in this world? It would make sense that he wasn't special. That another person entered this world with unsavory intentions.
It didn't matter. He lived in a building that shouldn't let unknown people up to his room, and yet… Whoever got into his apartment he had to prepare himself. It would take time to unlock the door. He would need to buy himself time.
Pots, pans, plates… knives. Three knives in his pocket, a knife in one hand and a pan in the other, and the others ready to be used if he needed to fall back to this position.
Sam stayed as silent as he could, but he knew the intruder must have heard him preparing. The blinds made his apartment dark at the moment, so that didn't help. Thankfully there was a light switch close by he could access the moment he started to move.
Listening closely, he couldn't hear over the sound of his now working air conditioning. The air flowed through the pipes into his room and - another loud bang occurred. The problem was that he now recognized the sound. It was his neighbor, who made it quite clear, would be having the walls repainted. So maybe a can of paint or something was currently hitting the wall. It made sense when it came from the same location.
Sam stood up, still prepared in case, and turned on the light. No movement came from anywhere else in his apartment to stop him. Sam then moved around the whole place. Closet, bathroom… everywhere. No one else was in his apartment. No other sounds appeared other than some occasional banging from the other side of the wall.
The chair he was currently sitting in was directly under one of the vents. Sam needed to take a cold shower.
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Sam took off a few more days. Thankfully with his arm injured it made sense. He planned on getting back to work on Monday.
Why he stayed was all in the timeline he made. Season one had to be winding down or at a minimum, half way. If he could finish whatever he had to do, then he could make it back home. Again that was only if there was something he had to do.
Sam's investments were really coming together. He had more than enough money these days than he had sense of what to do with it. But even then there were some expenses that he needed to take care of. Like the private investigators searching for his sister and her family.
"Nothing!" Sam threw his cup of water at the ground before cleaning it up. He had the money to spend and waste a single glass. "Sorry, little cup." Maybe he shouldn't break things from now on. He very much didn't want it to become permanent. Plus he was just doing it in the hopes that the little stress that it relieved would become greater.
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It had been a little later in the day. Sam was staying longer than normal as Jorge asked of him. His medication kicked in and the pain had subsided throughout the day. Didn't even need the bandage.
But a few things had been stuck in Sam's mind. That probably helped along with the medication.
First was what had been happening in the homicide department. A body. Thanks to no one caring about confidentiality, Sam was able to hear and understand. The first victim of the Bay Harbor Butcher had been found. Of course, no one was using that alias.
The body had been found in a junkyard. A female victim. A husband and wife duo partaking in human trafficking. Sadly this was something Sam was aware of going to work at a police station in the first place. The world was a terrible place and they would do terrible things. Even if his children's books hinted at the worst of humanity.
Either way, that meant Brian was still occupied with Dexter and not himself. He was safe for now.
Except that safe feeling he felt came with his taser. To which Sam bought a few of, including the one he had in his pocket. Without it he was a mess. Paranoid without being able to save himself. The world had gotten way too much for him and he was breaking at the seams. He could feel it.
However that compared nothing to what his mind was currently occupied by. Sarah. Max. Maxine. Loneliness was really taking over every aspect of his thoughts. Homesickness wasn't even close to what he felt. The heat surrounding him turned into a fire, flames licked his feet.
"Dude, if you're going to work in a police station, you need to stop smoking that mary jane… It doesn't seem like it's doing you any good anyway." At this point Sam would have taken anyone else. He didn't turn her way.
"Come, let's go officer Morgan."
'Thank you James!'
Another thought sparked within Sam's mind. It was something that he thought of before, but now his mind was piecing everything together. Sam cursed.
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Sam had to take a break in one of the bathroom stalls. He sat down with his left leg bouncing up and down. Anxiety had a complete hold on him for good reason.
"Is this world holding on to me? A piece to be used at will and forced into the plot of the story?"
There was no reason for Officer Debora Morgan, a main character in the series, to interact with him. Not like that. Any one of the other officers could have called him out, but it was her. Angel did it at first, but that was because he thought it was a TV show at the time.
The narrative was pulling him in. If it kept up like this, then Dexter would catch his scent. Sam was a runner. He would flee over the fight. Against a skilled hunter, Sam would be ambushed if he posed a threat to the ecosystem where there was only one ruler. One Alpha.
"H-How do I fight the world?" Narrative or not, he was getting closer to the characters. If he was pulled in the story, he… Sam had no idea what to do then. "If I have to… I'll hire an army."
However Sam thought that would be the end of things. If he did hide and protect himself across the world, assuming he survived that, then he believed that he would never get back to his family.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!" Sam screamed into the empty bathroom. He hoped it was empty at least.
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About two days later, Sam was sent by Jorge to clean one of the rooms on the same floor as homicide. While he had been aware of his recent beliefs, the moment he entered the room it once again became truth to him.
A little boy alone lay on a couch. A table sat there in front of it with a single notebook on it.
Sam hadn't been quiet as he didn't expect a little boy to be in the room, so he woke up with a startle. What he used as a pillow fell to the floor as the boy sat upright. Neither of them said a single word. Sam looked towards the door.
'Maria would be sitting in here with him… then Dexter would.' His thoughts spiked as fear gathered on his face and the boy was making a similar expression to how he felt.
Sam was aware that he was making this whole situation worse for a kid who had been traumatized. He didn't know what to say to a child who had suffered what he went through, so he decided to do what he did best.
Taking the notebook and a pencil nearby, he flipped to an unused page. He sat there drawing in silence. The boy didn't move for a while, but slowly the boy became interested in what Sam was doing.
It wasn't great at all. Just a rough sketch of the boy in front of him with a cape and a shirt with ice cream on it. The boy in the picture was flying through the air, passing by clouds. All of this taking place over an ocean.
Now the boy was next to him looking over Sam's shoulder on to the table. He tried to keep his attention onto the page rather than the boy. It was something he believed that would keep the boy from getting scared again.
As the page became clear with his sketch, he thought he would add in more details. Shading on the boy in the picture, birds and dolphins. Sam knew it hadn't been that long yet, but he was just trying to calm the boy down. It worked as he could sense the boy's shoulders relaxing.
The door suddenly opened behind him and he stopped. Sam turned around to see a concerned and angry Maria. Her face quickly hid her emotions as the now tense boy turned around too. Both of them felt they had done something wrong, but it was clear that Sam would receive all of it. It was unprofessional of him to do what he was doing.
Maria looked him over and landed her eyes on his badge. "Sam, can you step outside for a moment." Authority of a mother protecting her child came through and swiftly got Sam and his supplies out of the room.
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Even with Sam's good intentions, Jorge scolded him for what he had done. He was very close to losing his job, but Jorge helped him out. The next day, Sam planned on showing his thanks to Jorge for helping him out.
The next two weeks passed by. Sam was working late at night. He heard about another murder that took place. It wasn't the Ice Truck Killer, so Sam didn't really care. The only thing was that because of that murder plus the serial killer, meant that the police were working over time again. That meant the place needed to be clean and he just happened to volunteer for the job. A part of it was to repay Jorge. That man had done a lot for him, so it was just his way of repaying the guy.
Other than that, nothing popped out that the narrative of the world was dragging him in. Maybe he got away or it had more plans for him. Whatever the reason, he just wanted it to end. The stress of the limited time before season one ended was getting to him. Plus being night time currently didn't help either.
Sam was emptying baskets as Angel and Debora walked by. It was a little past midnight and they were practically yelling in his ears. As they sat at Debora's desk, things started to pick up. Sam couldn't help but get closer, if out of sight.
Neil Perry… A man who sought fame at the detriment of his life. Willing to go to prison just so he could get attention. If anything he spoke a good game, but he was harmless. Well for the most part. If Sam remembered, he did get caught when he had someone tied up in a motel.
A part of him wanted to tell them 'That isn't the guy', but another part wanted to stay out of the narrative itself. Conflicting, he knew it. After all he still wanted to believe that he had to fix something then he would be allowed home. All he could do was to make sure everything went the same way in the show.
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"I can't meet with you right now. I have something I need to take care of." Sam was in a cab right at that moment talking to Kester. "I got to go." His hand ran through his hair at that moment.
He hadn't slept. Sam kept his eye on Debora and Angel for the rest of the night. Even if things didn't get clean, the morning crew would take care of it. He ended up changing his mind over a hundred times on what he should do.
In the end, Sam landed on one thought that changed his future plans. The narrative, assuming it wasn't a coincidence, wanted him in the story. If that was the case, then he needed to get in it on his own terms. Now if he did and there was something he did need to fix, then Sam would have the opportunity to find it and fix it. He would be allowed to go home.
"You can stop here please." Sam got out handing the man a fifty. "I can take it from here, no need to wait for me and keep the change." It was much more than the man needed, but then again Sam had more than enough.
Rather than telling the cab driver to follow the red car holding Debora and Angel, he told the man directions on his own. Individually. His eyes followed the car and he made sure the cab was a few cars behind them. It sucked for the driver, but a twenty dollar tip had to make up for it.
He had a simple goal. Sam wrapped a bandana around his face and used the jacket he had in his locker to cover himself up. In a way, Sam was pretending to be a bank robber. Not to steal money, but to make sure a man could not escape the police. All the while his face and identity would be hidden. Sam had seen a bus stop about a mile down the road. He could make it there and blend into a crowd.
Of course a lot could go wrong. They could find out who he was by way of video or even the cab driver. Also Sam wasn't a fighter, sure he was fit, but actually being in a fight, no it was not his thing. Another huge issue was the fact that he had a faint memory of the show and location ahead of time. It was a lot filled with a bunch of cars. They all looked like they had been there for their entire lives. If they had lives of course.
The two ahead of them had just gotten out of their vehicle and were heading towards the mobile home. Sam kept low behind the broken vehicles. As he got closer he could see concrete below the home. Keep it high off the ground, but he didn't see wheels. So it wasn't really mobile.
As they stopped next to the house, Sam knew he had to be ready any moment. Soon Neil would make a run for it.
Sam hid behind a fence that had vegetation covering him from their line of sight. He knew the guy would run towards the vehicles, but he didn't know what ones. His current location would essentially let him head to the guy at the end of the driveway before the lot.
Grabbing a handful of dirt, Sam planned to use it to blind the guy. That way he could stop Neil long enough for the two to catch up. Of course he had to be faster than them and with his walks and runs that he partakes in, Sam had the highest chance of making it out.
Now he could hear Angel yelling and banging on the home. It was about to happen. Sam kept watch through the fence. Perry ran crawled out under the home, then stabbed the tire to their car. Which Sam totally forgot about. That meant that he was about to go into hand to hand combat when his opponent had a knife.
Sam quickly reached into his back pocket and grabbed the taser. He very much didn't want to use it as it could probably be traced to him. Either way he had to make contact with the guy in bare skin.
Neil Perry rounded the corner closest to Sam. Just as his hand was in front of him, he was met face to face with the guy. Perry tried to stop moving, but he had been so fast and Sam had just gotten his taser at the ready, that they collided and fell to the ground. For Sam it wasn't ideal, but at least he had his taser in his hand. Using the taser in his hand to push the guy off the top of him, Sam quickly got to his feet. Angel and Debora would be rounding the corner any second now.
Objective was complete. Stop Neil Perry before he could harm more people and all the investigation in the Ice Truck Killer to speed up. Sooner would be much better for Sam. If anything he already had more plans too.
"I got Perry, get him!" That was Deb and she was now in pursuit of Sam. He was already moving, shaking his head to clear it. Sam knew something was wrong, but he couldn't stop.
Being chased was… exhilarating. If Sam was honest with himself, then this was probably the most fun he had in years. Though he wouldn't really call it fun as it was just a tense situation more than anything. Laughter wanted to break out of him, but he knew that if he did, he would stop.
"Suspect is white, wearing a black jacket, blue jeans, and a red bandana. Currently-"
Sam had to stop paying attention to what was behind him. If he didn't focus, he was a goner.
He took a right down the road, going towards the bus stop. That was his original plan, but Sam knew that wouldn't work. Not only was he being pursued, going into a populated area might work against him. He knew she called backup, so Sam was on a time limit. Where could he go to break line of sight?
"Stop! Police!" There were some swear words coming out of her mouth too. Thankfully he could tell she was losing speed. It gave him an opportunity. A group of homes was close by. Going down one of the streets, Sam got ready to jump a fence. As he ran over to it- his leg hit the fence and he tumbled forward. Now he was cursing.
He could hear her behind him breathing heavily. Sam needed to get out of there. If he was caught, Dexter would question his involvement. He wouldn't know yet that Neil Perry isn't the Ice Truck Killer. If he and Dexter met face to face… Sam needed to run.
Suddenly, Deb rammed into him knocking him over onto his belly. They were both on the ground and breathing heavily. Sam felt much worse than he normally would, but that was due to him sprinting. She pulled her gun on him, expecting the tackle in the first place.
"Stay the-" Curses started flowing out of her mouth. Sam didn't pay attention though. He noticed something that he could use. The sand that he picked up earlier? It was still in his hand. Same with the taser actually. Once she got close enough he would throw it at her face. "We need a bus at-" She was in range. Sam used one hand to cover his face that had been in the ground and the other he released the sand and dirt into her face. He then sprinted out of there after shoulder checking her.
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Now Sam was cursing. That whole idea was a mess. Worse yet, he now understood why he felt weaker. He had been stabbed by Neil. Sirens were closing in on the place and Sam couldn't find a way out.
Noticing the wound and bringing it to the forefront of his mind. The pain completely took over his thoughts.
He didn't know where to go or what to do. Right now he was hidden, but seeing the blood trail behind him, it was going to end soon.
Now it became two choices Sam had to face. Either he could live, but be questioned by the police for his involvement. Which would have him gain attention by serial killers. Or he could just lie there on the ground. Forget about everything that happened. Afterall a world without the ones he cared about was a world he very much didn't want to live in.
In the end, Sam just stared at the sky. Bright blue as a breeze passed by him. The pain was gone now, but he felt so comfortable. Why was he running? He didn't need to worry about that.
"Sarah… I hope you are well. Take care…" Sam's eyes closed as the blue sky flashed red.
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"Sam, Sarah, are you two alright?" His mother called out to him. He could hear her curse a moment, before looking at their father.
He was looking at his sister. The windows had shattered in the crash letting the freezing cold air in. Sam shivered before moving slightly closer to Sarah who was in her costume.
"Sarah are you hurt?" Then Sam looked past her as she nodded. Max and Maxine were both bleeding through. Unconscious. That wasn't good. He started yelling for his mother to call nine-one-one. She didn't answer and Sam found himself outside in the cold snow.
His little feet trudged through the snow. He passed trees that had no leaves on them. A dead forest, cold and unwelcoming. A branch broke and he looked in the direction. Fear welled within him. It was one of two people and Sam didn't like either of them stalking him.
Breathing.
A stick breaking.
Crunch of the snow.
Sounds just flowed into his mind as Sam tried to find a place to hide. He was running, he had to run. Suddenly a giant butcher's knife flew out of the dark woods and landed in his side. It cut straight into his belly.
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"Ahhh!"
Sam's hand shot straight towards his abdomen. The pain was quite bad. He uncovered his hand to find blood leaking through a bandage. Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
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Just wanted to let everyone know that I'm still alive. I had gotten a job recently, and I haven't really started yet, but I will soon. It might be a while before the next one comes out. Just depends on when I get my schedule and when I might fit in there.
Not sure if anyone is interested in my other, original, works. If you are, let me warn you that some of them are old. Meaning that I haven't updated them in any way, so they suck. Writing wise at least. Story might be hidden behind that.
Search up KearDarkfire. I tend to stick to Isekai stuff. You might like it, you might not. No worries.
One other thing. As I was writing this, if you watch Dexter, there are janitors in the background in some scenes. It's funny that I can just throw my character on the top of them and have it seem… ugh legit? Well it is cool nonetheless.
Hope you all enjoyed this one. See ya for the next.