Well, I already had this chapter written up and I though it would be cruel to leave you hanging like that…so here's the next chapter. 'Room of Angle' from the SH4 soundtrack is quite suiting for this chapter I think.

Chapter 22: What a wonderful world

The occupant of the armchair didn't rise as Jobe slunk into the room. Even though its stiff back was facing him, the man could still tell there was someone slouched in it from the grove that made the chair's backboard lean.

Jobe felt something he hadn't felt for a painfully long time suddenly fill him. It surged through and over him like a powerful torrent of water, absolving him completely.

Happiness.

Just the though of that words in these dark surroundings seemed wrong, but then Jobe saw that this one room hadn't been touched by the corruption that had seized the rest of the town in a throttling grip.

The walls weren't stained, nor were the floor nothing but a thin grate suspended over perpetual darkness. He could see all this in fine detail from the warm lamplight that bounced over every inch of the room, softly illuminating it.

Jobe didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

"Phil?"

The bulge in the chair shifted.

"I've been waiting for you…"

Jobe could have cried at the sound of his voice. He was about to rush to the chair when Phil finally rose from his soft nest, resting his arms over the headrest.

"Are you alright?" But Jobe could see for himself. Despite for his dishevelled blonde hair, Phil looked a damn sight better than Jobe. His light features hadn't been marred by the town's corruption yet and his eyes danced brightly in the light as he talked.

"Considering all that's happened to me, yeah, I'm good." He paused, letting his green eyes run up and down his companion. "But I think you've seen better days…"

"That doesn't matter, we need to get the hell out of here. Now." Jobe turned and started towards the door but halted abruptly when the sound of Phil's footfall didn't reach his ears.

"What's the rush, Jobe?"

For all his love for the man, Jobe could have slapped him there and then.

"What do you mean 'what's the rush', Phil? Haven't you seen what's going on in this town? It's madness, utter madness!" He felt his voice strain under the hurried urgency in his tone.

"Yes." Phil closed his eyes as the word slowly slithered from his lips and in that instant; Jobe felt that blazing hope begin to falter.

"Then you know we can't stay here…Please Phil," Jobe found himself suddenly filled with hollow desperation. "C'mon."

Phil just stood rooted to the spot, grinning.

"I don't think so, Jobe. It would be for the best if you stayed here, I think."

Jobe felt as though someone had pored lead down his throat.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You still don't see, do you? None of this is about me, it's all about you." His words slowed as Phil saw the sideways look Jobe was giving him. "God, Jobe, you can really be so slow at times. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"What's wrong with you?!"

A storm passed over Phil's feature's, darkening them as he scowled.

"Wrong with me?" He spat. "What's wrong with you, that's what you should be asking!"

Jobe gritted his teeth.

"Phil, Do you have any idea how crazy you sound? I came all this way to get you out of here, not to listen to you rant on like a mad man."

A muscle in Phil's face jumped.

"And why did you come all this way for me huh, can you tell me that?"

Jobe glanced at the heavens, exhaling sharply.

"I'm your friend. I couldn't just leave you here to die" Some deep trigger in Jobe's brain snapped. There'd been a great deal of blood in the car after the crash and even Father Parker had said what a terrible state Phil was in when he'd briefly caught a glimpse of him. How was it that the man standing before him was so spotless and intact?

"Aw Jeeze Jobe, you make it sound so tender. You sure you did it out of friendship, not some feeble act of redemption?" 

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" He barked back. God, Phil was sounding more and more like Claudia with every sentence. He threw back his head and let out a bray of cold laughter. The sound of it made Jobe feel sick.

"Oh please! I of all people know what you've done. I really don't see why you keep up this façade; it's embarrassing more than anything else."

Jobe's mind randomly flashed back to a performance of 'Oedipus Rex' he'd seen with Phil and Julia, easily imaging his friend playing the role of the cryptic prophet, Thyreseus while he himself was the bemused, but ultimately damned king.

'Him too, they've all accused you of doing something…Claudia, those three in my…well you wouldn't exactly call it a dream. Even Casper hinted that you would eventually see the light. BUT WHAT IS IT?'

"You've gone…mad." Jobe stated numbly, not wanting to say the words but deep down he felt it was true. Each time he deigned to look into Phil's eyes, he felt the notion re-enforce itself when he saw the blank, glittering orbs glare back at him. "Please Phil, just put whatever it is behind you and come with me…" There was no response from his friend as Jobe looked at him pleadingly. He couldn't drag him out the room if he didn't want to go.

Phil simply turned his back on his former friend.

Jobe felt any of the final dregs of optimism drain from him. After all he'd gone through for him…

"Alright, I see how it is," He paused, not wanting to say the word that seemed so ultimately final but what else was there he could do? Jobe turned to the door. "Goodbye, Phil…"

He started for the door, trying to keep a hold of his emotions.

"And where do you think you're going, Jobe?"

The man in question stopped instantly, his friend's icy words so full of malice they rooted him to the spot. He turned back and instantly felt his mouth go as dry as a naked, picked bone.

"Tisk, tisk, tisk, you can't leave, you're the guest of honour! I think you're trying to shirk your responsibilities…" In the bare few seconds that Jobe had turned his back, something seemed to have filled Phil. Something dark…

'The town…'

His skin seemed to stick to his bones, taking on a waxy, yellow hue and those insane eyes stared wildly from sunken hollows. Even his clothes looked warn…

"I don't understand why you would," Phil's voice rasped on, creaking like chalk on a blackboard. "It an honour to be able to serve god in the way that's been offered to you…" He grinned widely, his lips curling back viciously. They parted much further than they should have been able to, displaying teeth that glinted meanly in the mellow light.

"What's happening to you?" Jobe backed away, whatching his friend with malignant horror that spread through him like cancer.

Phil ignored the question and Jobe saw something crawl from his eye, scurrying quickly across his face before burrowing under his skin that was rapidly fading to a corpse-like grey.

"You know, I think I'm a little jealous of you, but hey, that's your department."

His cheek collapsed, the dead skin simply crumpling away to reveal yet more of those teeth. They looked horribly sharp…

"Yeah, I think I'd kill for an opportunity like yours…"

He slunk from behind the chair, slowly stalking towards Jobe, hands out-stretched. The jagged nails on the end were black with rot.

"But hey! That's what friends are for!"

"Get away from me!" Jobe pulled the shotgun from its belt, aiming it with a shaky hand at Phil's head.

"Ohhhh," He crooned, leering maliciously. "No last hug for your old friend?"

"You come one step closer and I swear…I swear…"

"What? You'll kill me?" Phil stopped inches away from Jobe; giving him one last ghastly smile before lunging at him, mouth wide.

The handle of the double-barrel gun came smacking down on his skull, sending the barely human creature sprawling on the floor. Jobe looked down at thing that had consumed his friend, his eyes wide in disbelief.

'Please don't make me shoot him, please…'

"Oh come on…" It gasped, pushing Itself up on peeling arms, wild with creatures squirming between the ragged strips of flesh that coated them. "I know you can do better than that!"

With surprising agility, It leapt to Its feet and rounded on Jobe, slashing with It's nails at his face. Jobe tumbled backwards, hollering as his flesh seared where the claw-like fingers had raked his skin clean.

The thing called Phil laughed, throwing Its head back like a wolf howling at the moon and letting rip It terrible song.

"Well, that was fun but I'm afraid it's long gone time for you to move on to better thing, Jobe…"

Jobe looked up through a mask of blood, hunched double over the shotgun.

"Goodbye, friend …" A new lunacy bit Its eyes at It threw Itself at Jobe, claws outstretched greedily. Jobe straightened up as It collided with him…

There was a wet squelch as the raised nose of the shotgun meandered its way through Phil's decomposing gut. Its eyes went wide as it fell onto the firearm, more in surprise than pain, leaning heavily against Jobe.

"Oh!" It muttered dumbly, as if it had just witnessed a mildly odd spectacle. For a moment the pair were still in the bizarre embrace, then Jobe closed his eyes.

Father Parker started awake, jerking up from the chair he'd fallen asleep in. He sworn he'd heard a shot that dragged him from the realm of dreams. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the cause of the disturbance…

"Ah, Sister Wolf…" He smiled warmly as he watched the pallid woman make her way slowly up the aisle from the door, which she'd presumably slammed shut.

'I did not believe it could be possible for that woman to look anymore gloomy…'

Yet she did. It was as if her own personal rain-cloud of guilt was floating over her head. She'd been like that ever since she'd got back from her little trip. He'd never found out what had taken place between her and that Heather girl, he'd have to ask before she drove him mad with grief…

 "You'll be glad to hear that the man, Jobe, I do believe is his name, gobbled up every word I handed to him like a hungry rooster on scattered grain." He paused, grinning at his companion. He got nothing in return.

Unlike most, his charm seemed to have no effect on Claudia and sometimes he found himself wondering if she in fact was the single most frigid and morbid creature on God's good earth…He'd certainly worked his southern magic on Jobe yet she was invulnerable to it, even if he'd practically nuked her with charisma. Needless to say, this small failure irritated Richard Parker immensely. If there was one thing he hated, it was failing, no matter how small. That and he would be able to sleep safe at night knowing he had the woman completely under control. It was vital that she complied in order for his plans to be carried out.

"I may be wrong in thinking so, but he is by far the easiest to manipulate out of those in our sphere of influence." He stopped when he saw that the woman opposite was looking at him in doubt.

"I don't know, Father... I fear a certain one of our number has been putting ideas into his head that may make him somewhat apprehensible" Claudia's sentence died faster than usual and she cocked her head as if locking onto a far away sound.

Richard sat bolt upright, moustache twitching.

"Is it done?" He asked like an over eager child.

"Yes…" She sighed. "All this pain…it is so sad that it is necessary."

"Yes, yes," Parker rambled, not heeding Claudia's melancholy epilogue. He rose and stretched like an over-fed cat, content of gorging itself.

"Come, Claudia, The party's only just getting started and there's formidable amount of work to still be done before she graces our present. Can I get an Amen to that?"

Claudia smiled weakly at the though of Alessa's coming, the sound of the harsh shot still ringing in her ears.

'So very sad indeed…'

By the time had turned back to Claudia to issue instructions, she'd already vanished.

"I hate it when she does that."