Chapter 5: Scary Monsters and Super Creeps- Part 1

"When I looked in her eyes they were blue but nobody home... She could've been a killer if she didn't walk the way she do... She opened strange doors that we'd never close again... Scary monsters, super creeps keep me running, running scared..."

"We found them."

"Yessss?"

"They were as you said they would be."

"Get on with it."

"Mr. Lyle and the girl- they were together."

"I know that, you idiot! Where are they now?"

There was silence, except for heavy, raspy breathing.

"We do not know."

"What?"

"They escaped."

"How is that possible?"

"He shot one of us."

Collective consciousness apparently had its drawbacks.

"Get back out there. Find them and bring them in."

"Yes, sir."

"The girl is to be brought back alive at any cost. As for the other, alive would be best- but don't hesitate to kill him if necessary."

"We will not fail you, master."

Jarod surveyed the police station, his new home for the time being. A young officer paced the floor nearby as Jarod passed.

"Evening, Mr. Wayne," the young man greeted him with a nervous catch in his voice.

"Evening, Leonard," Jarod returned cheerfully. He nodded at the officer's shoe. "Might wanna tie that," he advised.

Leonard gave his superior a funny look before glancing at his shoe. Sure enough it was untied.

Jarod just smiled and kept walking.

The Precinct was a hub of frantic commotion as the current criminal activity had hit an all time high. It took Jarod some time to weave his way through the station and finally reach his destination- a door with a sign that read "Detective". There was no last name.

The office was a mess inside. Papers were scattered in disheveled piles everywhere. Used mugs and old take-out containers, some with food still in them, littered the place. A file cabinet drawer stood open- its contents in no better state than the rest of the place.

Jarod was taken aback by the chaos of the room. From what he had heard, Grayson was a compulsive neat freak.

Wow, Grayson must have had some breakdown for his office to look like this...stress of the job, maybe.

But Jarod had a feeling it was more than just stress.

"Excuse me," someone standing in the corner behind him cleared his throat.

The Pretender turned to see a jittery young man in his late twenties.

"I'm sorry, sir," his hazel eyes sparked apologetically. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

Jarod shook his head and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm Erik Travers," he said, offering his slim hand to Jarod. "Your new assistant."

They shook.

"Chief McNamara assigned me to you," he continued. His warm toffee-color skin gleamed in florescent lightening giving the illusion that he was glowing. "He thought you could use some help, you know, settling in. Things here are a lot different than LA."

Jarod nodded. "Of course, I wouldn't expect them to be the same. Glad to have you along, Erik."

The young man seemed relieved. Rumor was that Wayne was a big shot out in California, and usually big shots were agony to work with. But Wayne seemed nice enough.

"Is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

Jarod looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "Actually, yes. The office needs to be put in order- I'm looking for the files on the serial killer case."

"Certainly, sir. I'll get on it straight away."

As the young man scurried off, Jarod pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. There was someone he needed to check in with.

Squeak, squeak.

Mr. Parker glanced up from his work. A brief look of displeasure flitted across his aging features when he saw Raines enter his office. Without a sound, he watched as Raines took his time making himself comfortable in one of the two chairs opposite the large desk. The meticulous situating of the oxygen tank was done only to goad him. It did- but his expression remained a stoic mask.

Finally, Raines made eye contact with his associate and acknowledged him. It was evident that the doctor was not there for social reasons.

"Who put Lyle on the Seventh Project case?" he rasped.

Mr. Parker arched an eyebrow and his frown deepened.

"I did."

Raines sat back. He locked his frigid glare onto Parker.

"I want him off the Project Retrieval."

"Why?"

Mr. Parker was now extremely suspicious. There was no sound reason he could surmise why Lyle should be removed from the case. Despite his son's unpredictability and instability, he was the best man for the job. Besides, Raines had no authority in this situation.

He returned the doctor's hard stare.

"I have my reasons," Raines replied. "He's to be taken off the Retrieval immediately and to be back in the Centre tomorrow morning."

"The Triumvirate issued the recall on the Seventh Member," Mr. Parker told him, keeping his tone even. "They were not opposed to Lyle's involvement. I see no reason to remove him."

Raines snarled. "You'll do as I say."

This was the breaking point for Parker- he was not about to be intimidated by this fool. He jumped from his seat in anger.

"You're in no position to give me orders!"

Raines stared him down. With slow, deliberate moves, he rose from his seat and approached the desk. Leaning over the tabletop until he was nose to nose with Parker, he hissed vehemently,

"It will be much better for the boy if you remove him. If I have to do it..."

The threat was left unspoken. Raines jerked away from the other man.

Parker sank back into his chair only after the doctor had left. He stared at the black phone for several minutes before finally reaching for the it.

It would be best to inform Lyle of this conversation right away, of course. He needed to know the possible danger he was in. The sound of the dial tone stung the air around the earpiece. Just before his finger touched the "dial" button to warn his son, another thought came to him. Slowly, he replaced the handset on its stand.

"He's sinking faster than a drowning man. He'll grab a hold of anyone he can... Gun in his pocket and a heart of ham, he's dying faster than a rabid dog- infect us all ..."

They were after him again. At first, it had been easy to out run them, but he couldn't run forever.

His side ached and his breath came in painful, uneven spurts. He couldn't go on much longer.

Why? Why wouldn't they leave him alone? He just wanted it all to stop...

"Now he's losing blood... Nose for trouble and a soul of rock...

There's not much flesh- just skin and bone, cheeks sunk deep, eyes popping wide..."

So end it, they snarled. It's simple...Just give into the darkness...It can all be over...

But he was even more terrified of the darkness...because they were skulking there...bidding their time...waiting to devour him...

He was alone in his terror...no one to rescue him or come to his aid. His family betrayed him...his friends abandoned him...

He was alone in his nightmare...

"Don't put out a hand to help him- this drowning man will bite it right off..."

Rain began to fall from the black clouds in the heavens. It was a silent rain, steady in tempo, frigid in temperature.

Two figures ran through the back alleys hounded by three more. They darted in and out of the nooks and crannies of forgotten passages, desperate to escape their pursuers. But the Shadows stayed always on their heels.

For a moment, it seemed they had managed to loose the phantoms. He fell against a wall and slide part way down it. There was a pain in his side so tremendous that it forced his breath in and out in gasping spurts. His head spun with a bizarre sensation, as though the world around him had suddenly liquefied. He sank to his knees.

She had felt him weaken long before they stopped running. He had been leading the way, pulling her along, making sure they stayed at least one step ahead, but gradually he had fallen back. They had pressed on, but the journey was too much for him.

She knelt in front of him, watching him assiduously. There was something wrong- he had not collapsed from being out of shape or anything of that nature, but from something much worse. He seemed to be in such agony. He held his head between his hands as though his head would fall apart if he did not. He rocked back and forth like a child in fear, his back slapping the hard brick wall behind him with each rock. His mouth twisted in anguish- she could hear his teeth grinding together.

She wanted to help him, to touch him, but she was afraid. Her gazed darted fearfully about, looking for the Shadows- they were being too still.

Please, please, be all right...

"Lyle?"

Through the fog that engulfed his mind, he heard someone calling his name from very far away.

"Lyle?"

Whoever was calling sounded worried.

No one ever worries about me...

"Lyle! Please answer me! Are you okay?"

He stirred slightly, trying to move, but it only aggravated the throbbing in his head. He groaned aloud, it was too much...He reached out.

Mia...his hand found hers resting on his knee. His grip tightened around her palm.

At least he was responding, sort of.

Rain still showered down on them. His hand was so cold. She wrapped her free hand around his and pressed her hands together, trying to generate some warmth for him. Her effort wasn't quite enough. She tried sitting close to him, but nothing seemed to help- she was as chilled as he. They were as good as dead were they sat, but if the Shadows were with them, they were not showing themselves.

He tilted to the side slightly, falling against her. His head drooped on her shoulder. Mia sighed and watched as her breath dissipated in chill. She stared up at the drizzle falling from the sky and wondered how her life had managed to take such an anomalous turn. No answers came. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of the droplets running over her face.

He shuddered. Mia turned her head. His eyes were still tightly shut, but his breathing was coming out in sobs rather than gasps. She wondered who he really was, where he came from, if he had family. She also speculated as to why he picked her out of the millions in the City. But most of all she wondered how he got that look in his eyes- that hollow, haunted look. She had seen such a ghastly stare many times before...in mirrors...

After several minutes, he calmed significantly. He let out a weary, ragged breath, and relaxed. Seconds faded away and he opened his eyes. Reality awoke him fully and he pulled himself back into a sitting position.

Humiliation flooded his cheeks as he apprehended what had occurred and saw that Mia was staring at him.

There was nothing he could utter to explain his previous actions. He was angry, furious, fighting mad...but at himself for allowing her to see him in such a state of weakness.

He shifted uncomfortably under her inquisitive gaze. He debated his options and at the same time was morbidly curious as to why he no longer sensed the danger they had been in earlier. Agitation welled within him- he wanted her stop looking at him like some lost kitten. The urge to grab her and drag her down the alley was nearly irresistible. He squirmed, then saw what she was so interested in...

His hand- his thumbless hand. In his fevered condition, he'd put his hand in full view and somehow managed to loose his glove in the process.

He cursed his stupidity.

"Accident..." he murmured lamely, slipping his hand away from her.

She did not pester him with questions as he anticipated. She lightly pressed her hand against his as he pulled back, her palm passing over the place where his thumb once was. She did not seem bothered by it.

"What are they, Lyle?" she asked, a plaintive bleat in her voice.

For a moment, he was lost, unsure of what she was asking. He was still confused by her gesture...her kindness. It was not something he was used to receiving. Then...

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. He tried to rise, but his dress shoes had no traction and caused him to slip on the slick ground.

Instantly, Mia was on her feet and offering him a hand up.

He stared at her as though she had pulled a gun on him. Cautiously, with a suspicious eye on her, he accepted her aid.

"They seem familiar," he continued slowly, brushing his coat. The soaked coat was useless to him now- it only weighed heavy on him. He unbuttoned it and slid out of it. He discarded it to the ground as he walked off, motioning for her to follow.

"It's not safe here," he said.

Mia started after him, but her gaze lingered on the crumpled coat. It was still good and it could be dried. And it would be warm when winter came and there was no heat in the apartments...

Swiftly, she retrieved the jacket and scurried after Lyle before he noticed she was missing.