Derek didn't know much about the world, despite how many books he's read. He knew how to act, how to behave, how to learn at an acceptable rate to please his teachers and parents both. But the one thing he didn't know was his brother. He didn't understand why Dwight acted the way he did. From what his parents told him, Dwight had a pretty good life. He made the sports team, got along with all his classmates, was top of his grades in school; everything Derek strived to be and more. Yet, when he looks at his big brother he sees something… he seemed different.

He doesn't understand why Dwight was so reserved. He didn't understand why he peeked around every corner of his own house with a crazed look in his eyes. He didn't understand why every night he'd wake up silently screaming ceiling, the cry for help forced down his throat to not make a single peep. Even the way he walked, heel first leading into a slow quiet creep like a child sneaking around in a game of hide and seek. It suggested that he was hiding from something… something Derek didn't quite understand.

Derek couldn't sleep with the thoughts and theories bouncing in his brain. Guilt gripped his heart to see Dwight sleeping on the floor. Despite Derek's best efforts, his brother refuses to sleep on the soft mattress. He peeked over the edge to find Dwight sleeping upright, again. In the dark of the early dawn Derek couldn't determine if his brother's eyes were open or not. He had perched himself up as if on watch for a nameless intruder. If one were to just walk in, they'd think Dwight was sitting waiting for them.

He didn't dare wake him. Derek has seen how Dwight woke. Arms flailing, freshly trimmed nails clawing and thrashing at the air. Mouth agape as if to scream but not a sound is made. Eyes wide open but they couldn't see what was in front of them. Than, after the spastic episode he woudl collaspe down to the floor and pick himself up as if he was sleeping the whole time. It was all so bizzare to witness. Derek didn't dare speak of this to his parents. He didn't dare risk shattering the illusion of a happy family recently made whole. He couldn't do that to them or to Dwight.

Derek stared up at the ceiling, than his eyes drifted to the framed jersey hung on the wall. The young boy smiled and his worries were pushed to the back of his mind. "Everything is fine." He whispered to himself. "We're okay." That was when a strange scent brushed against his nose.

He smelled something. A smell of burning paper graced his nostrils. Derek looked around the bedroom. The sunlight slithering between the blinds in a crimson, amber glow. The smell seemed to come from behind the bed. Derek peeked over the edge, in the dark crevious between the bed and the wall. He couldn't make sense of it. There wasn't any smoke, but the smell proved otherwise. There was a crack in the corner. A small crack, barely noticeable. The smell of burning paper and hot iron whiffed up in invisible smoke. Derek reached over. Black smoke oozed from the festering wound in the wall, beckoning him to come a bit closer. The soft whispering of some inconceivable voice just tempting him to pry it open.

Dwight woke up to the sound of the alarm. His eyes flew open, alert of his surroundings when the calming rays of the sun reminded him he was home. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back on the bed frame. His hands cradle his chest to ease his beating heart.

"Another bad dream?" Derek asked from atop the mattress. He looked down at Dwight with genuine concern.

"No, no I'm fine." Dwight stood up from the foot of the bed frame. "I was just… startled is all."

"It's morning. Do you know what time it is?"

Dwight looked down at his little calculator watch. "About seven o'clock, why do you ask?"

"Because I have school today. Today is Monday."

"Monday. Huh. Is it Monday already? I haven't been keeping track." Dwight reached to rub the drowsy from his eyes and his fingers bumped into his glasses. He had slept with his glasses on. "Darn it."

Dwight walked over to the bathroom. Two thumb sized smudges now in front of his vision. Derek followed behind him.

"Do you think you can visit me at recess? I want to show you my friends!"

"Your friends?" Dwight said as he raised his toothbrush "Why? I'm nothing special."

"Because you're my cool brother! And I want to show them how cool you are! Please?"

Dwight looked out the window. A sunny scene of the neighborhood slowly coming to life. The sleeping giant of the suburbs was waking up, children running out their doors and forlicing in their frontyards. Exhausted adults marching to their place of work in cars they can barely afford, but put on a brave face to match those of their smiling offspring. It's all so normal and to Dwight, normal was a treasure.

"I… I think I will, Derek."

"Really?!" The child's eyes lit up like floodlights. "You mean it?"

"Yea, when does school start?"

"Eight o'clock. Recess starts at one o'clock!" The two could already smell the pancakes heating up downstairs. Their stomachs collectively groaned in unison.

"How about we talk about this after breakfast?" Dwight offered.

"Sure thing!" Derek sprinted down the stairs and turned to the kitchen. For the first time in a long while, he was happy to eat pancakes in the morning.

Jake felt tired. His arms heavy as anvils, his legs even heavier than that. Every step was a test of willpower. Every breath a test to see if he was still alive. He didn't know where he was. He was sure it had a name but he didn't care. Familiar or not it was all the same. The aesthetics melted away, he only saw the paths to run, the pallets to loop whatever monster of the week around if he could.

"I think I hear something?" Meg warned as they toiled away on the generator. The pistons rising up and down from the red, dirty block of metal. Jake only nodded in response. A grim idea floating in his head. Will I be cut up, chopped to bits, or eaten alive today?

Sparks erupted in his face. Jake fell down on his back on the cold floor. The monster roared in the distance. By the time Jake got up, Meg was already gone. Course she is… Don't bother helping me or anything. Don't try to finish the generator and help us all get out alive. God forbid you get hit once!

Jake bit his tongue and continued to work on his gen. He didn't even feel the need to run. What was the point? He'd either get captured today or tomorrow; not that time has any meaning here. A scream in the distance told him that Meg was caught by the beast. So much running did ya, huh?

The scream of his teammate echoed in the halls. He heard a blood curling roar soon after.. Was it man or beast? Jake couldn't find the will to care. He heard the stomping of angry footsteps coming closer and closer. The generator fizzled, the pistons pumping life into the machine. Jake closed his eyes and let the end take him. He no longer wished to play this twisted game.

Frank clutched his grumbling stomach. He hadn't had a bite to eat since he left Weeks or… was it since It dropped him here? He couldn't remember. The gnawing hunger in his stomach scrambled his thoughts.

The unfortunate rabbit was in his sights, nibbling on a tiny berry. Ripe and fat. Did it even see him? Did this pitiful creature even realize who stood before him. Frank's blood boiled. Something so pathetic as this overblown rodent didn't even fear him.

Frank leapt upon the rabbit with a mad fury. He didn't even care what he tore our, he just had to eat something! Anything! The warm gush of blood washed over his hands. Free from the cold, he plunged his hands deeper into the soon to be carcass and pulled out a fat chunk of meat. Frank couldn't wait any longer. He lifted up his mask and bit down on the raw meat. The same blood on his hands flooded his mouth. He could barely taste the meat.

The instinct crawled in his brain like the claws of a spider tip tapping inside his skull. The incomparable whispers blocking out the tearing of flesh, the shattering of bones. Frank wasn't doing this for survival, the Legion was doing this for pleasure.

Something pressed against the back of his skull. Something colder than the forest air. Frank's heart stopped when he heard the click of a hammer in the back of the rifle. He didn't move an inch. The teenager couldn't find the courage to breath.

"Whatcha doing out here son?" The yookal said in a heavy country accent. "You a runaway or somethin?" The hunter's eyes landed on the dirty bullet wound in Frank's shoulder. The blood congealed, but it was dirty and ached like all hell. "Holy shit! Did a hunter do this to ya, kid?" Frank felt the barrel lowered from his head and didn't hesitate. He spun around and plunged his knife into the hunter's neck. A shot rang out through the trees. The last grasp of a dying man was his finger around the trigger. A bullet shot out to nowhere in particular. The man, an old one at that, laid down on the ground squirming as he grasped at the knife in his neck.

"You idiot! You fucking fuck! They'll hear you! You fucked me! I'm screwed!" Frank tore his knife out and made a cutting board out of the man's ribs. All the while the Legion shouted obscenities and cursed every second the hunter chose to remain alive.

"Car. Car. This guy had to have a car. Maybe a truck. Too far away from either town." A truck would do wonders. Frank raided the hunter's pockets. Bullet shells, bits of lint, a wallet -that Frank pocketed out of pure habit- and a set of shiny keys around a chain. "Yes! Yes! Finally something goes my way!"

Frank's head darted left and right. A few broken branches on the brush and the footsteps left in the mud were enough to guide him to his prize. Frank grabbed the rifle and left the hunter cold and alone. With any luck a wolf will pick him apart and scatter him far from the eyes of the law. Frank smiled at the thought. He almost wished he had time to cut the hunter up to speed up the process, but he had more pressing concerns.

The truck was old. Older than Frank by the looks of it. The paint was chipping off. It's alluring red hue lost to the cancerous rust that was devouring it. "It'll do. It'll more than do."

Whether it was paranoia or just instinct didn't matter to Frank much. He was too close to Weeks for his own liking. He ran to the old, weathered truck and jumped into the driver's seat and threw the hunting rifle in the passenger seat. He could only hope that the "brave pigs" at that shithole of a town didn't hear the gunshot or at the very least thought nothing of it, but Frank couldn't afford to take the chance.

The thrust the keys into the ignition and slammed his foot on the gas. Dirt and mud kicked up behind the truck as it drove through the trees. "Can't use the roads. They'd be waiting for me on the road!" He growled in frustration. He had a bumpy road ahead of him. His bloodstained fingers wrapped firmly around the wheel, tight enough to choke him.

Dwight Fairfield is a coward by his own admission. There was no denying it when he stared down the front door to his house. A simple wooden door, there was one like it on every door on the street. For his entire life he never felt anything but indifference towards it. So why did his look so large and imposing. So impossibly big that he didn't have any hope of even turning the knob, let alone pull it open.

Derek brushed past him and opened the door. The bright morning sun shining down on the simplest lawn. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and took a step outside. He made it seem so easy.

"You coming? You didn't change your mind, did you?" He looked back at Dwight with soft boiled eyes.

"N-no," Dwight whimpered. "I'm just… thinking about it."

"Thinking about it?"

"I… I just don't know if it's safe."

"Dwight, it's safe here. This is our home. We're a small town, nothing much ever happens around here." That's what I would have said a year ago. Dwight thought to himself. Before It dragged me away.

He shuddered at the thought. The inky black tendrils that resemble a spider's claw emerging from the dark fog. Ensnaring him while the moonshine dulled his senses. Before he knew it he was already retreating back into the house. Derek watched him with big wide eyes. Regret with a dash of disappointment covered every inch of the boy's face. He hung his head low and walked forward out into the big bad world.

He doesn't know. Dwight convinced himself. If he knew he wouldn't dare step a foot outside this house. And yet Derek strode out with a confidence that he'd return. There was no killer out for his blood. No monster lurking in the dark that wanted nothing more than to hang his entrails on a hook. He was just so sure of himself. Dwight felt a pain of envy. If only he had that courage, if only he was brave enough to just walk outside.

Dwight's mind wandered back to that dark place, back to the campfire with Meg, Claudette and Jake. They all gazed at him with dark, tired eyes. Faces caked in mud and soot. Hands shaking from the trail before. Yet, despite all of this, they looked to him and kept their heads held high. They looked at him with that same certainty that at the end of the day they'll return to keep on fighting.

Dwight took a step forward and walked into the daylight. Then a thought crossed his mind. A dangerous thought, a thought he refused to truly accept up until now. Maybe the nightmare truly was over?

The town was… smaller than Susie had envisioned. With all this talk of this lone survivor they were tasked with hunting, she was lead to assume that his home would be reflective of his grand nature, but she would be wrong. Every street, every corner, every house looked the same, cookie cutter home that defined middle america. Boring white fences holding boring green lawns in front of boring square houses, boring, boring, boring, boring.

Julie was slouched over the van's wheel. It wasn't hard to imagine her eyes drooping from exhaustion. The past 48 hours have been eventful for the trio and a respite would be needed. Joey was leaned up against the window. His finger eagerly tapping against his leg for a distraction. Susie didn't pay him any mind and buried her face in her manga. While reading the action packed, black and white images, Joey's head peeked over the pages.

"What are you reading?" He asked in his trademark gruff voice, which Susie was only 50/50 certain that he was forcing it.

"Broseph's wacky venture." She stated before returning to her reading.

"That weeb shit? Why the hell you reading that lame shit?"

"I like it, Joey. Now piss off!" She hissed, glancing at Julie briefly.

"No, I want to know why you insist on reading that geek shit when you could be reading something better!"

"That's bold of you, I didn't know you could read!"

"Bitch!"
"Asshole!" The two delinquents held their respective blades to each other's necks. Joey's mask was different from the rest of the legion. He chose a more urban look with a mask made of a tattered handkerchief you could find at any cheap drug store. The two circles crudely cute were the window to his soul. Two black orbs violently shaking amidst a void of white. He was an animal craving the hunt, an adrenaline junky waiting for his next fix and didn't care how he got it.

"Try be brace-face! I dare you!" He snarled.

"I'm tired of you always sticking your nose in my business! Why don't you sit back down and shut the-" The van's wheels came to an abrupt halt. Both Joey and Susie were flung head first into the back of the driver and passenger seat respectively. Susie's face crashed into the inside of her mask. The metal wiring and divests scraping her face, adding insult to injury.

An angry hand grabbed her shirt collar and dragged her into the front. Julie threw her into the passenger seat and glared at her. Without words, the message was clear. Shut up or you're walking. Susie couldn't object. Joey sat in the back fuming and pouting. Susie heard Joey mumble something at her, but she didn't hear it and saw to let it slide. At least in the presence of Julie.

In a small town like this traditions die hard. Families here are rooted to the spot. It was like that in Ormond and it was like that here. Traditions like that don't fade overnight, even when they should. Susie thought this when the van stopped right outside of a dusty phonebooth. A moment later Julie climbed back inside with a large yellow phone book that put college textbooks to shame.

"Think Fairfield is going to be listed?" Joey asked. Julie didn't waste the energy answering the obvious question. She flipped through the pages, her finger pressed firm down the list. D, E, then finally the F category. Faircotten, Fairdel, Fairfield. Julie slammed her fist on the dense phone book and threw her fist trumpet in the air. Susie peaked over. There it was, Dwight Fairfield. Everything was needed: an address and phone number ripe for the taking.

Joey's hands ran across his blade. He wiped the knife on the sleeve is his jacket, arguable making it more filthy than before. "So what's the plan now, Julie?" He asked in a cool a tone that he could muster, channeling his inner tough guy act he was never born to play.

Julie reached into her pocket and pulled out a quarter and slid it into the ancient machine. After punching the number, she held the phone in Susie's face. Talk. She glared.

Susie took the phone and held it up to her ear. The phone rang. The low rumble and then a high pitched dial. The voice wasn't the one she expected. A middle aged woman. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Hello?" Susie asked in the most innocent voice she could play. The helpless girl next door. "Hello, is this Ms. Fairfield?"

"Why yes I am! Who is this? Who are you?" She jumped from zero to one hundred in a flash. She was paranoid. Susie had unknowingly opened a can of twisted stress and jumped to defuse it. "My name is Susie. I'm a friend of Dwight's!"

"Susie? I don't remember a Susie?"

"You don't remember me? I was… I was…" She wracked her brain for an excuse. She looked to the building in front of her. A banner hung overhead advertising a local football game at the local high school. "I was… at the game. Remember the game?"

"The game?"

"Yea, you really don't remember? We were there together. I heard he just got back into town. Is he okay?"

"Oh," the woman sighed with relief. "He's doing fine. We're so happy to have him back with us."
"Cool, cool. That's good to hear, ." Julie drew her finger across her neck. Cut to the chase. "Eh… any chance I could catch up with him?"

"Oh, I think he'll be off to the middle school with Derek. You might bump into him after school."

"The middle school. Right, well thank you so much ." Susie took the pen hanging in the booth and wrote down the name of the school. "When I see Dwight, we'll have a killer time!"

"That's nice dear. You have a good day."

"Oh, I will." She hung up and held up the address to Julie. "We got him!"