ANGELICA D!!! Great to see you back D! Ugh, yeah, viruses really suck BIG TIME! Trust me, I've had my own share of virus problems in the past, and none of them have been pretty (I lost tons of data! Waaah!). Anyway, It's awesome to know that you're still loving the story D!!! I'm actually glad that I didn't bore anyone with all this William-Stryker's-past storyarch. LOL! Well, at least now you know why Stryker went NUTS when his wife killed herself. They had everything they could ever want, and the psycho mutie Jason took it all away. Tsk tsk.

SKETTY D!!! Heehee...yeah, I did that "freezing" thing to show that he couldn't see everything happened in his past. After all, how could you see something happening if you weren't there, right? ;)! As for Jason the psycho mutie boy, we're getting closer and closer to that part (and you'll soon see Stryker SNAP like a KitKat bar. Lol). Well, I hope you like this chapter :D!

NIANNA D!!! Thank you so much for the wonderful review D!!! It's really kewl that I'm reaching out to new readers ;)! Here's the next chapter :D! I hope you like it D!!!

Chapter 72: A dark and cold home is never sweet

He looked at the house again, and he observed it. He looked at its windows and the fading paint and the bougainvillea vines that ran up its sides...He looked at the painted roof and the lawn beside him and the mat on the doorstep that said 'Welcome'. Then his eyes wandered at the door. And as he looked at the door, he suddenly felt his heart beating in his chest. He could feel his heart beating so hard and so loud, that it was the only sound that he could hear. He could feel it thumping as if his heart wanted to burst out of his chest. Why was he feeling this way? And why...did it feel so cold?

Yes...it was so cold, and he could feel his hands shaking. He could feel his own flesh fighting the chill than ran through every inch of his body. But he shouldn't feel cold. He shouldn't be shaking like this. The weather didn't seem cold and from the looks of his surroundings, it was summer, maybe even spring, but definitely not winter. So what was wrong? And why was his heart filled with so much sorrow? Shouldn't he be happy that he was standing in front of their house? Shouldn't he be proud that he had a house of his own, for him, Karen and Jason? Shouldn't he feel warm and fuzzy that his memory had taken him to the place where he had made his family?

No...something was wrong. He could feel it. Something was wrong. And the longer that he stood there in front of his house, the harder his heart beat. And the more that it beat, the more that it filled his ears, almost deafening him with its thumping sound, like a hollow drum beating within his chest, a drum beating in his head.

Slow, deep breaths started to escape from his lips as he walked towards the door. Each and every step felt so slow and so heavy, as if each step was heavy enough to leave a mark on the pavement. He felt as if he was walking towards his death, his doom. And at this moment, the only thing that he could hear --- was the beating of his own heart, and the sound of his own breath through his parted lips.

And now, he was standing there, face to face with his house's door. Something inside him was telling him --- that what he might see through that door, was something that he would not want to see. But it's too late to turn back now. This was where his memory had led him, and this was where he was going to go, no matter what waited for him inside. This was his future, this was his destiny, and this was his life.

He breathed in and reached out for the doorknob. Then he slowly twisted it and pushed the door open. He could hear the creaking noise of the door as he slowly opened it. The sound was like a grim warning of what was waiting for him inside. He could feel his hands still shaking as he closed the door behind him, and he felt colder than he had ever felt before. And he wasn't physically cold...the chill that ran through his body was something else. He could also feel his knees weakening, as if his legs didn't want him to walk any further. And his heart continued to thump in his chest like a war drum.

The door led him to the living room. He looked around him as he walked into the middle of it. Their living room was filled with all the different appliances and things that you would typically find in a living room. They had couches and vases and coffee tables, a television set, and family pictures. He narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of the pictures that were lined up on the shelf in the corner of the living room. There were so many pictures lined up, with frames of different shapes and sizes, so many, that they literally filled up two full shelves. He slowly walked towards the bookshelf to take a closer look at them. He desired to see the pictures so close to him.

Then perhaps he would finally see his son...Because his memory had not shown him his son yet. He still hasn't seen a vision with Jason in it, and he wanted to see him. He wanted to see Jason so badly. He longed to see a memory with his son in it. His last 'long' memory left him hanging with the news that Karen had just given birth. And after that, he thought that he would jump to the part of his past where he was cradling Jason in his arms for the very first time. He thought that he would jump to the part of his past when he would hear him say his first word, or hear the boy call him 'daddy'. He thought that he would see the parts of his past where he was a father to Jason.

But his memory neglected his son from him, and he couldn't help but wonder why. Why was he hiding his son from himself? Wasn't he an important part of his life too? Wasn't Jason as important as Karen and Yuriko and Logan and Code7? Dammit, he was his son, and yet he couldn't even remember what he looked like. He couldn't even remember Jason's face. But at least he knew his name. He had a son...and his son was named Jason...Jason Stryker. He had a son and he knew he loved him.

He was now standing in front of the bookshelf. And a subtle smile spread across his lips as he looked at the pictures. He felt as if he was looking at his entire life, at his perfect life. And while he looked at them, he felt all his fears slip away. There were pictures of Logan and Yuriko and him and Karen and friends and family --- and --- Jason. Yes...There was his son, smiling back at him in those photographs. He finally got to see his son. He was definitely a beautiful young child...so vibrant and strong and handsome, just like his father. Almost all of the pictures had Jason in it. And as Stryker stood there, in the presence of the still images of Jason, he felt as if he was really standing right in front of the boy, standing right in front of his son. Now if only he could see him for real...and hold him again, just like he was holding him in those still photographs.

He looked closely at the picture in the middle of the shelf. It was a picture of his younger self, Karen and Jason together. Karen was standing beside William and she had her arms wrapped around his. And William was carrying a very young Jason in his other arm. Jason looked like he was around a year old at this time, and he had a huge smile on his face. All of them had huge smiles on their faces. Karen even looked like she was laughing. They all looked so happy and so perfect, like the kind of family that any person in the world would want to have. And as he stood there, staring at their perfect picture, he couldn't help but wonder where it all went...

What happened to his family? What happened to his life? Where was Karen? Where was Jason? Where were they when he woke up in the biting snow? How come he neither heard from them nor saw them in the past two days that he stayed in the mansion? And why didn't he have any of their pictures in his suite?! And then he remembered --- he did have a picture of Karen. He remembered seeing her picture in his barren room, and it was the only picture in his entire 'house'.

How come her picture was there, but she wasn't? And why was it the only picture that he had of her? His family had many photographs, but it was the only one that he saw in his empty suite. What happened to all of their pictures? What happened to all of their memories as a family? And how come he ended up living alone and forgotten in that damned suite in Alkali Hotel? Where was his wife? Where was Karen? Did she leave him? Did she take Jason with her and left him? No. She couldn't have.

And why did he destroy her picture? He remembered throwing it against the wall as if he detested seeing it. He also remembered how his crimson blood trickled on her still, picturesque smiling face before he threw it away. Why? Why did he do that? Why was his heart filled with so much range and anger when he saw her? What happened to his family? What happened to his future? What happened to his son? Where were they?

Then he suddenly heard a chain of loud crashing sounds come from another part of the house. Stryker's eyes opened wide and he looked to his side, towards the direction of the noise. The crashing sound was like a mixture of glasses and other things breaking...and it came from the opening at the far end of the living room. Then as he looked at the opening that seemed to lead to another part of the house, he suddenly felt his heart thumping so fast and hard in his chest again. Suddenly, all the warmth and comfort that he felt while looking at the pictures, were replaced with the same darkness and bitterness and chill that he felt when he first stepped inside the house.

/"What's going to happen next?"/ He asked himself fearfully. It was a question that he wished would never be answered....

Somehow, he knew that he was nearing the end of this vision. Deep inside, he knew that he would soon see the event in his life that had created the man that he was now. And this was it. He was soon going to see it happen all over again, right before his very eyes. He would soon see how he transformed from a man, into a monster, damned to live a life of living hell. And now, he couldn't help but wonder if he would regret turning into the mutant-hating William Stryker after he sees what caused him to become such.

His widened, fearful eyes remained focused on the opening in the far end of the living room as he felt his own fear suffocating him. That was where the end of this vision was waiting for him. That was his destiny. That was where fate had led him. That was where he gave up this life, to live the life of another man.

But who was there? What created that crashing noise? What was waiting for him through that opening? He could feel his own heart beating faster and harder now...faster and harder than ever before, as he stood there, staring at the opening that lead to the source of the noise. Was Karen there? Was Karen there, waiting for him? Or was something else waiting for him? What was going on in there?

And then he suddenly heard a man's voice...The man was screaming. No...it just wasn't a man...there was a boy too...It was a boy and a man talking...no...they weren't talking...the man and the boy was shouting at each other. Stryker's breaths quickened as he listened to the man and the boy argue. He could barely hear their words as he stood there in the living room, but he could feel the anger emanating from their cries. And as he listened, he could feel his hands shaking. He could feel his chest tightening. He could feel his entire body wanting to break down and just give up and die.

He wanted to cover his ears and shut the voices out, but he couldn't. He felt as if he had frozen in place, doomed to listen to a father and his son argue like heaven and hell.

A father and his son? How did he know that ---

Was that --- was that him and Jason arguing? Was that him and Jason shouting at each other? But it couldn't be. It can't be him and Jason. It can't be. But he knew that it was. Then he suddenly looked at the bookshelf, and his eyes opened wide with surprise as he found the pictures all gone.

The pictures that he was looking at just a while ago have all disappeared...and the only photograph that remained in the bookshelf --- was the picture of Karen that he had in his room --- the one and only picture that he had of her when he woke up in the lake two days ago. That was the only picture on the shelf, and on her face was his own blood, staining her smile...His own blood masking her beautiful face.

What did this mean? Where did all their pictures go? Why was that the only one left? Why that picture, out of all the happy pictures that they had?

And as he stood there, looking at the pictures, he suddenly noticed all the things in the living room disappearing one by one, from the couch, to the tables to each and every one of their furniture. He turned around and saw everything slowly fading, like ghostly objects, leaving the room without a trace that they had been there in the first place.

What was going on? Why was everything disappearing? Why was everything drifting away? And as the last object in the living room disappeared, he was left there, standing in a barren living room, as if no one ever lived in that house before.

Then his head whipped towards the direction of the opening as he heard another crashing sound coming from it --- and with the crashing sound was a scream of a woman.

"Karen!" He shouted. He knew it was Karen. She was the one who cried out loud. And it was a cry of fear and pain...It was a cry of a person who was going through so much suffering, so much torment. And after her scream, he suddenly heard her voice pleading...pleading for something...begging for something.

He just couldn't stand there doing nothing any longer. He had to see what was going on in that other room even if he knew that it was something that would tear him apart, something that would change the way he looked at life forever. And he knew that Karen was there, and he wanted to be where she was. He wanted to see her again, even if that meant seeing her for the last time. He wanted to be by her side until the end. Yes...he knew that this was near the end...the end of his past life.

"Karen!!!" He cried out. And then he ran across the living room towards the opening, where the sounds and screams were coming from.

And as soon as he reached the opening, he stopped in his tracks and froze, as he stood there, with his eyes wide open with fear and shock, as looked at what lay beyond the living room. He was now looking at a room that seemed like the dining area of their house, though now it was all in ruins. The dining table was turned to its side as if it had been pushed over, the plates and drinking glasses were all scattered on the floor, most of them broken into tiny, fractured shards. The kitchen utensils such as their spoons and forks were scattered on the floor, even the food that was supposed to be eaten.

But seeing the room in shambles didn't compare to the horror of seeing the three figures that were present in that room. He felt like he was looking at a living nightmare. Jason, his son, who now looked like a teenager, was standing in the middle of the room. His eyes were filled with fire and rage, as if he was feeling nothing but anger and hatred and fury. He was gritting his teeth like a rabid animal and he was tightly clenching his fists on his sides. And there seemed to be an invisible air of fury swirling around him. He didn't even look human anymore. He looked like the living embodiment of death and fire. And Stryker couldn't believe that that was his son. That was not the boy that he saw in the pictures. That was not the boy that he held in his arms. That was not him.

And then his eyes lay on the two pitiful, cringing figures on the far side of the dining area. It was him and Karen. And they looked like they were in so much pain. They were both clutching their heads and crying out in agony as they cringed in torment. They seemed to be going through so much torture, so much suffering. And Karen kept on crying out. She seemed to be in more pain than William, and it pained him to see her like this. It pained him to see her go through such agony. His younger self also had some cuts on his arms, his legs and his torso, and he had a knife wedged on his shoulder.

What happened to them? What was causing all of this? Was Jason responsible for this? Was Jason the one who was doing this to them? He looked at Jason again and saw the anger in his eyes as he looked at William. Yes...it was his son. His beloved son was the one who was torturing his parents. But why? Why would he do such a thing? How could he even do such a thing? Him and Karen both loved Jason. They loved him more than their own life. He was their son, for crying out loud. So how could his son do this to the parents who loved him unconditionally? What caused such a perfect, happy family to turn into this trinity of pain and anger?