CHAPTER 8: A MATTER OF FAITH, PART 1

Throughout the mythology of Judaism, there has always been a theme of redemption that carries through its texts. Their torah tells tales of how the Jews were saved from slavery by the Egyptians, depicting tales of famine, disease, and death by the means of freeing the enslaved peoples. Where the Christians believe that their messiah had already come with the promise of return, the Jews believe that no such messiah had come yet, and one day would arrive.

Harold Berman holds a different story of redemption, one closer to the true meaning of the word. Throughout most of his early life, Harold was a known bully at P.S. 118, and constant troublemaker for others. With misdeeds ranging from stealing a ham from Mr. Green's Meats, refusing to return a missing cat, and having multiple run-ins with the girl named Patricia 'Big Patty' Smith, his reputation was well-known among his peers.

However, after each of these misdeeds, Harold has managed to come out as a better human being following each one. Paying off his act of theft at Mr. Green's Meats by stealing food by working under his employment for a week, Harold has found a liking to the job of a meat salesman; a job he works now. By withholding the missing cat, Harold had found a softer side to himself, finding care and empathy for some of the most fragile of life on Earth.

The latter, his encounters with 'Big' Patty, are still on his mind. After a brief fling with Rhonda, Harold had found a more concrete interest of love within Patty. Unfortunately, while the two were of close age, Harold was held back two grades, putting a dent on the relationship that could have been. Patty had moved away from the dangers of Hillwood some time ago, looking in search for a new and more peaceful life in the city of Redmond.

For now, without any customers in the shop, Harold stands over the counter, writing a letter to Patty to keep contact.

Hey, Patty, been a while since we talked. I know it's kind of stupid that I'm sitting here writing you a letter when I could just text or email you, but I was always more old-fashioned like this. I thought this would be a little more personal. I mean, I know I can just give you a call, so I don't know why I'm even bothering to write this letter in the first place. It'd give me a chance to hear your voice, something I could really do with- Harold began to write.

Losing track of the message he was trying to send in his letter, Harold crumpled up the paper in anger, tossing it in the garbage can to his side. Taking in a deep breath to muster his courage again, Harold pulled out another piece of paper, preparing to write a new letter to send his message.

Hi, Patty. I hope you're still doing well in Redmond, I've heard it's nice and quiet there. Things have been quieting down here ever since the Green Eye came in. Would you believe that we actually had a 70% drop in crime since last year? Maybe you could come by for a visit and see everybody again, I know we'd all love to see you. I'd especially like to see you. I mean, I know I can just visit you, but, I haven't really found the time to. I've been meaning to, but- Harold began to write.

Again having his message derailed from its intended purpose, Harold crumpled the unfinished letter and threw it in the trash, groaning in anger at his own shortcomings of communicating his own emotions. Literacy was only one problem he faced during his school years, being able to truly express himself is what brought him down further.

He desperately wants to see Patty again, but there is an uncertainty in him that will not allow him. He does not know what this uncertainty is, but he is certain that it is present, and he knows that it is stopping him from attaining what he wants. He knows that he misses Patty, and all he needs to do to see her is to simply give her a call; he knows her number.

But he cannot.

For now, Harold cannot do anything more than sulk on the counter, unable to work past his own troubles. His emotions cloud his mind and drive him to silence, leaving him trying to disappear from the world just long enough to forget his troubles. For just one moment, he hopes to be forgotten from the real world so that it may no longer plague him with its problems.

His mind detaches from the real world, but his body can never do so. As such, his body received a pat on the back from Mr. Green himself, bringing his mind back to the real world to attention.

"Hey Harold, you doin' alright, buddy?" Mr. Green asked.

"Uh, fine, Mr. Green. I'm fine." Harold said.

"C'mon, Harold, just call me Marty. You've been working for me since you were, what, 13?"

"Yeah. Sorry again about that ham."

"Don't worry about it, kid, you paid it off. Hell, I'm sorry I didn't give you the job sooner after seein' how much you loved it. You've been the best employee a guy like me could ask for."

"Thanks."

"So, what's the problem?"

"What? Oh, no, there's no problem."

"C'mon, kid. I might be an old man, but I know a young man with trouble when I see one. Let me guess, girl trouble?"

"N-No, really, it's nothing important. I'm fine."

Taking a peek over at two crumpled pieces of paper sitting alone in the empty wastebin, Marty Green began to suspect that he had found a more concrete answer to his questions, as they would obviously not get any solutions from Harold himself. Picking up the papers and reading their contents, Mr. Green quickly gained an understanding of the situation his top and only employee was in.

"I knew it. Always girl trouble with you kids." Mr. Green said.

"She's, uh, she's just a friend. Really." Harold said.

"Heh. Yeah, sure. It always starts as 'just friends'. That's how I ended up with a wife and kid. Well, it's obvious you wanna talk to this girl, Harold, so what's stopping you?"

"I... I..."

Not wanting to answer the question, Harold turned away, trying to avoid the question altogether. Mr. Green, always the most sympathetic for those close to him, did not allow Harold to escape the conversation so easily. Putting his arm around the young man in support, Mr. Green inquired further into what was preventing Harold from talking to Patty.

"C'mon, kid. I've never steered you wrong over the years. Tell me what's stoppin' you from talkin' to her." Mr. Green said.

"Well, it's just that... I don't feel like I'm... good enough." Harold said.

"What do you mean?"

"I've not been the best person when I was younger. You know me, I tried to steal a ham from you. About a few years ago, I got caught up with some really bad people."

"How bad?"

"Big Gino. Before he died. I ran drugs for him. I got out, but, about a year ago, he wanted me to do it again. I didn't want to, but he didn't give me a choice. But I was saved by the Green Eye. He stopped me from making a bad choice I thought I undid. But I was still going to do it. If Patty knew that, I don't think she'd want anything to do with me anymore."

"Hey, kid. If you love somebody, you don't care at all about their pasts at all. Mine's a lesser extreme, but, my son's a vegetarian. I'd like him to take over the business, but there's no way he's going to do it. You think that makes me stop loving him?"

"No?"

"Of course no. He's still my son. If this girl loves you for who you are, she's not gonna care about that."

"I know that, but-"

Before the conversation could continue itself any further, the front door to Mr. Green's Meats opened up, with two individuals entering the establishment. Despite the anxious await for an arrival for some, these two were no customers, but the two best friends of Harold Berman: Sid and Stinky.

"Oh, hey, you guys." Harold said.

"Howdy." Stinky said.

"Sup, 'H'?" Sid asked.

"Eh, not much. How about you guys?" Harold asked.

"Well, partner, it's gettin' near sundown." Stinky said.

"Yeah, dude. You know what that means." Sid said.

"Oh, right. Night job. Mr. Green, is it okay if-" Harold began to ask.

"Hey, we ain't gonna have any more customers comin' in this time of day. I wouldn't want to stop you from your other job; you got other duties to fulfill." Mr. Green said.

"Thanks, Mr. Green. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harold hung up his hat and apron, putting an end to his shift at Mr. Green's Meats and getting ready for his shift on his 'night job', known better to the three friends as their nightly superhero activities. Before Harold could make his proper departure, Mr. Green stopped him for one last question, still curious as to what their 'night job' is.

"Hey Harold, you never did tell me what that whole night job of yours is. You do some security work or something?" Mr. Green asked.

"You could say that." Harold said.

"Like what, though? You just watch a building?"

"Let's just put it this way, Mr. Green: I told you I wasn't exactly the best person in my past. This... 'job' is a chance for me to make up for some of what I've done as a kid. Maybe, if I keep this job up, I can feel... 'good enough' again."

"Uh... okay, if you say so. Well, you kids have fun."

Now ready to continue on their departure to their duties as heroes, Harold, Sid, and Stinky proceeded to move out to join with the remainder of the Hillwood Heroes. With a long night surely ahead of them, their night would begin with a long walk towards their home base at the Lloyd estate.

However, while their minds are mostly on the walk, the minds of Sid and Stinky gravitate towards the last words shared between Harold and Mr. Green.

"So, dude, what was that about?" Sid asked.

"Huh?" Harold asked.

"You was talkin' kinda weird to Mr. Green. Somethin' we missed?" Stinky asked.

"N-No, guys, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

As loyal friends as they are, they respect Harold's wishes, and they do not question the event any further. Instead, they continue on their journey in peace and quiet. They might be respectful of Harold's wishes to not address the event here, but, as caring friends, they still wish they could ask into what troubles the life of their best friend.

For now, they just stay quiet and continue.

Elsewhere in the city of Hillwood, as Harold thinks over his own personal debt to the Green Eye, the aforementioned superhero makes his own approach back home. Following a long day of walking his way to the Danger Zone and back, Arnold Shortman hopes for the chance to relax his legs before another jump into the breach in his crusade for justice.

Most of his day was spent walking, but he does not see his time as wasted. Rather, he enjoys such time to take in the sights and the sounds of the city. Its grand appearance and the larger-than-life feel of a big city are breathtaking sights in their own rights, but it is not simple gratification to his eyes that he sought after. Instead, it is the emotions that he can feel within the city.

He can feel every heart and mind in the sea of consciousness in Hillwood, and he delves in deeply to feel one with his city. He can feel every emotion that the people of the city feel, all the bad and all the good at once, and he lets himself live through it. Such an experience of life might seem to be too much to feel for someone ordinary, but Arnold is not ordinary anymore. He can see the world as it truly is.

A tissue is comprised of cells. An organ is comprised of tissue. A system is comprised of organs. An organism is comprised of systems. This is a simple understanding of human biology, but it is not limited to parts of one body. Rather, multiple organisms result in a community, and the city is such an example. The many people who live within the city are the ones who keep it alive, and the city becomes an organism in its own right.

Arnold knows this fact very well, and it is his sacred duty to protect the city, and keep it alive and well. He has gone far to cure it of its ailments, tending to each of its own cells, but its sickness still remains. There are times when he feels downtrodden; wondering if he will ever truly make a difference.

With the walks in the city he ensures to take, his doubts melt away. For every life lived in peace and happiness, for every dream fulfilled and every love reciprocated, for all those who are alive and happy to be alive that he can see, he knows in his heart that his cause is successful.

For now, however, there is one more doubt that he must see solved. This doubt cannot be solved by anyone he knows in Hillwood, so he must confer with someone more wise in the areas he seeks help in. Stepping back into the Sunset Arms Boarding Home, Arnold made his way to speak with that one spirit for help.

Stepping inside his home once again, his presence was met with the rushing of William and Annie Grossman past his legs. Having spent a long day at school, the two children still had much energy pent up in their systems, and each a pair of legs suited to expel that energy. As such, the two decided to use those legs to play a game of tag with each other to blow off said energy.

"You can't catch me!" William said.

"Yes, I can, Will, you just wait!" Annnie said.

"Nuh-uh! Girls aren't as fast as boys, don't you know?"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

The primitive and immature argument and chase do not last long, as the two children were kept watch under the observant eye of their mother: Goldie Grossman. Where she spent the majority of her attention on a polite conversation with Stella Shortman in the living room, her attention was now swiftly brought to the dicordant children in the hallway.

"Kids! No playing rough in the foyer! You almost hit Arnold!" Goldie said.

Answering the protest of their mother, the two children came to a stop, taking their time to apologize to Arnold for their rough playing nearly bringing him harm.

"Sorry, Mr. Arnold." William and Annie said in unison.

"That's okay. You two were just playing." Arnold said.

"Sorry about the kids. They're always antsy after school." Goldie said.

"Oh, don't worry about the kids, Goldie. It's nice to see some kids running around here. Reminds me of Arnold when he was younger; I didn't get to see too much of him at that age. Welcome back, Arnold." Stella said.

"Hi, mom." Arnold said.

"Miles' cooking dinner, it should be ready in a few minutes. Will you be joining us?"

"Probably not tonight. I've got the 'night job' in a couple of hours, and something else to do in the meantime. I'll eat it later."

"Okay, sweetie. Try to relax yourself before work."

"I know, mom. Thanks."

Bidding his greetings and temporary goodbyes to his mother, Arnold made his way up the stairs, making his way to his room.

"So, what does your son do at night?" Goldie asked.

"Oh, it's, it's complicated. It's mostly a sort of... 'nightwatching' job, you could say. He just... keeps people safe." Stella said.

"Oh, so he's like a bouncer?"

"Heh. Not exactly."

Before the conversation could lead into harder territory to defend, it was soon cut short by the young William and Annie. Though their play session was cut short by their mother calling for a stop to their roughness, Annie sought to take advantage of this by achieving a 'tag' on her brother; having him stationed in place and unsuspecting of any moves such as this one.

"Tag, you're it!" Annie said.

Darting her way across the foyer to avoid her brother, William began rushing right back after his sister, hoping to get his 'tag' back.

"Hey, get back here!" William said.

"What was that about boys being faster?" Annie asked.

"Kids! Knock it off!" Goldie said.

As the playful fight between the children continued and the mother of the two tried to put a stop to it, Arnold continued making his way up the stairs, proceeding his way to his own room. Making his way up the stairs, he continued his path down the hallway, heading to the staircase to his room at the building's highest floor.

While he continued on his way, he would soon find that his path not only would be blocked by the two scowering children in the lobby, but by a few brief stops from some of the other tenants. Arnold does not mind, however, for a view into the life of another is an experience that has always captured the attention of his mind.

The first of his stops was by the door of Barry Ronaldson, practicing some verses to perfect his singing voice. Selecting a classic from his own teenage years, Barry sings in his room alone, practicing the Beatles' 'Love Me Do'. Hearing the song as the lyrics came from the mouth of the tenant, Arnold stops and listens.

"Love, love me do

You know I love you

I'll always be true

So please, love me do

Whoa, love me do..." Barry sang.

Taking his harmonica out of his pocket, Arnold held it up to his mouth, playing the song along as Barry sang. Hearing the sounds of the harmonica come from behind his door, Barry opened up to see where the music was coming from, finding himself greeted by Arnold standing in the hallway with the harmonica in his hand.

"Hey Arnold, I didn't take you for a harmonica player." Barry said.

"I know a few instruments, but I never take a lot of time on them; too busy. The Beatles are a good pick, though. Wanted to say you were doing a good job." Arnold said.

"Thanks, Arnold. You know, I remember the days when they were just starting out here in America. 'More popular than Jesus', they were calling themselves."

"Well, that was mostly Lennon."

"True. He was a genius, though, ain't nobody can deny that. I've seen him in person, you know, playing on the stage. He had a real positive energy that came off of him; like you just know he's a good guy. I get that same feelin' from you sometimes."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. I can tell you're real special, son. Don't you ever forget that."

"Thanks, Mr. Ronaldson."

"C'mon, kid, you can just call me Barry. Tell you what, you're pretty good with that harmonica, you wanna get in on some of this?"

"Maybe later. I've had a long day, and I want to relax a little."

"Okay. Well, I'm right here if you want to jam a little."

"Sure, I'd like that. Catch you later."

Pledging to play some music with Barry some other time, Arnold continued his way to his room, but found himself stopping short of his goal on a detour yet again. This time, after leaving Barry's room, Arnold stopped before the room of Chris Jeong-sam, wanting to share what became of the book he had received from the young man.

Giving a knock at the door, Arnold's hand had accidentally pushed the door open, leaving it to slide open and show Chris at his computer. Chris was found to be not only occupied by his schoolwork and numerous assignments, but also oblivious to the rest of the world by listening to some music on his headphones. As a result of his occupied senses, he did not notice the entrance of Arnold Shortman into his room.

"Chris? Hey, Chris!" Arnold said.

Despite his calls, Chris did not hear Arnold's calls; still focusing on his school and music. Trying to get the attention of the young man, Arnold tapped the reading Chris on his shoulder, now efficiently gaining his attention for a conversation. Realizing that he was in the room and trying to speak to him, Chris removed his headphones, turning his chair towards Arnold.

"Oh, sorry, man, didn't hear you come in." Chris said.

"Yeah, you left the door open." Arnold said.

"I did? Sorry, force of habit. My parents didn't allow any locked doors."

"I got you. Sorry to interrupt you, but I thought you might like to know that I got the book to the person it was meant for. Thanks again."

"Hey, no problem, man. So, who was it for?"

"Well... I knew this guy in school who was kind of a bad kid. He got a little better over time, but he turned towards some really bad ideology when I left the city a few years ago."

"What kind of bad ideology."

"Nazism. His dad was killed by some black drug dealers, so, now he turned to hateful beliefs like that. I wanted to try to help him move away from it."

"Yeesh. Sounds like a lost cause, dude."

"I don't believe in lost causes. I know that there's some good in him, and I want to help him see it again."

"Well, you've got dedication, that's for sure. In any case, I hope it does help."

"I hope so, too. Thanks again."

"Anytime."

Putting his headphones back in, Chris returned back to his schoolwork, having much to cram into the night to complete his work. Leaving him to do so in peace, Arnold stepped out of his room, making sure that the door was closed when leaving. With his business done here, Arnold continued to move on to upstairs.

Along his way, he received what would be his final interruption, but far from the least significant one. Making a pass by the room of Aaliyah Samiya, Arnold caught ear of the refugee woman praying in her room; overhearing the words of the haunted lady calling out to her allah for a sense of peace.

The prayers are in Arabic, but this does not stop Arnold from understanding every word. Taught every language on Earth during his time in San Lorenzo, Arnold is panlingual, able to speak in every tongue of man, and hears and understands the prayers well. Of course, even without the understanding of all languages, his own powers of empathy would tell him the thoughts behind her prayers.

Within the heart and mind Aaliyah, Arnold could see and feel what she does. Through her eyes, he can see and hear the protests at Gaza, calling for Israel to end their illegal occupation of their land and intent to take it as she does. He can feel the anger for wishing for a peaceful state of Palestine just as she does. He can feel the fear of IDF forces firing at protesters, killing many of her friends and family as she does.

He can feel the fear and sorrow of life as she does, and he hears her prayers call for an end to the torture that exists in her mind. Arnold does try to help many others in his crusade for justice, his quest to end pain, but he knows that even he has his limits. As he feels Aaliyah continue her prayer, laying her face to the floor in submission, Arnold, too, prays that she will find some peace in her life.

Finally, after making his greetings to the other tenants, Arnold made his way up to the top floor, ready to complete the task he set out for himself; to confer with a spirit best suited to sway his doubts and set him back on his quest again. Making his way back into his room, however, Arnold had one more person to greet before doing so.

Watching in the corner of the room, Arnold caught eye of his significant other, Helga Pataki, working on a sculpture while in a bathrobe. Carving through the rock, Helga's vision appeared to be coming out as a pair of lovers in embrace; each chip of rock coming away showing that vision come into more clarity with every move.

Greeting his lover with his arrival home, Arnold wrapped his arms around her stomach and gave a kiss on her cheek, bringing a look of both surprise and warmth from her face. Placing her carving utensils down, Helga turned back to hold Arnold in her arms upon seeing his arrival.

"Hey Arnold, you didn't tell me you were going to be gone all day." Helga said.

"Sorry, Helga. Had some errands to take care of. Been working on this long?" Arnold asked.

"Mmm, a little bit now. I haven't sculpted in a while, so I thought I'd give it another try. It's definitely not as easy as it looks."

"Well, at least you don't use my used gum anymore."

Helga gave a snicker at Arnold's joke, recalling the many shrines she had made from similar items.

"Yeah, I was a pretty weird kid back then. Things were a lot different with..." Helga trailed.

Helga's mind began to backtrack on the days when she was younger, remembering the days of neglect from her parents and her obsession with Arnold the only driving force in her heart to keep her alive. The thoughts that once brought a moment of laughter to her lips now only existed to bring her sorrow once again.

Arnold, always able to see into the hearts of others, knows these feelings in the instant they came to Helga's head, and ran his hands over hers to calm her thoughts.

"Helga, it's okay. That's over now. Nobody's going to ignore you anymore. I'm right here, my parents are right here, all our friends are here, and none of us are going anywhere." Arnold said.

"Oh, I know, I know. It's just not easy to get over that. I know I've finally got you in my life, but..." Helga began to say.

Arnold can still see the uncertainty in Helga's mind; knowing her own insecurities and trauma still haunting her to this day. Wanting to focus on the present moment in time, Helga brushed the thoughts aside, burying them deep in her own heart. Her actions do not remove the pain, as both her and Arnold know, but she does not allow either to think on it for long.

"Never mind that. You're right, that's all over, and we're here now." Helga said.

"So, is this statue supposed to be us?" Arnold asked.

"This? No, I wanted to make it sort of vague so that anybody could see themselves in it. Besides, the head's wrong. I thought you would know that, having that giant football head."

"Heh, yeah. Still, I think I remember us trying that position once."

"Well... they always say to make art from what you know. I might have had some 'references' to work with. Speaking of having you here, I could probably use some help, if you don't mind."

"I don't really know much about sculpting, Helga. Aren't you afraid I'll screw it up?"

"Oh, I don't mean on that. I was thinking more along the lines of... helping me with some 'references'."

Helga began to pull off her bathrobe, letting the top slide down to her hips. Teasing Arnold with a smile on her face at her exposed upper body, she offered to her significant other a chance for her to work with something else solid and rock-like. Still having his need to confer with a someone else for his own troubles, Arnold politely declined, hoping to take up the offer later.

"Not right now, Helga. I've got something important to do." Arnold said.

"More important than me?" Helga asked.

"Helga, you know you're the most important person in my life. But I've been having a lot of questions about what I do, as the Green Eye. I've been at this for a year, and I still haven't brought Hillwood all the way back yet."

"You brought the city a long ways, Arnold. Crime's nearly totally gone."

"That's the problem, Helga: Nearly. With Big Gino gone, we should have wrapped up the rest. But we haven't. Plus, there's been so many people with other problems, things that aren't crimes, but are still leaving them to hurt each other. I don't know what to do next, and I need some direction."

"Oh, I see. Well, when you're done, I'll be here waiting. Oh, and sorry about the mess on the floor, I was planning to vacuum."

"It's fine. I'll see you later, Helga."

Arnold and Helga shared a kiss, letting themselves bid each other a temporary goodbye before the former set out to speak to his confidant in his superhero activities. With her lover off to confer with a spirit of guidance for help, Helga turned her attention back to her sculpture, carving out more rock to complete her vision.

As this continued, Arnold climbed on his bed, crawling his way up the stairs to reach the roof of the Sunset Arms building. Pushing open the window, Arnold stepped up to roof of the building, finally reaching his intended destination. By closing the window behind him after his arrival, he made one final stop before completing his task, wishing for a brief moment to appreciate his surroundings.

Taking a look off of the roof, Arnold took in the sights and sounds of his city, allowing himself to enjoy a look at the land he fights so hard to defend and protect. To experience the busy and bustling streets, to see the people of the city move around up close is one thing, but it does not compare to the breathtaking view of the city that this can offer.

Looking at the city from a high vantage point allowed for a chance not to see just one part of the city at a time, but a chance to take in all of it at once. At this point, Arnold can see the many lives moving about the city, and can experience their own hopes, dreams, and feelings all at once. Through this lens, he can swim the sea of human consciousness, and the sea offers him a comforting experience of life.

However, there still is the pollution of pain and doubt in the sea, and he requires help to continue his quest. Taking a seat on the ground, Arnold separated himself from the world for just a moment's time, just enough to complete the task he had set for himself. To do this, he stays silent and clears his mind.

A Spirit Master possesses numerous powers and abilities; all posthuman attributes that Arnold has made to serve him well in his quest for helping his city. His physical abilities are well-known, but his mental abilities are but only slightly known of; his psychic powers having much potential and little knowledge.

Now is the time to use one of those powers. Closing his eyes and concentrating his own consciousness and soul, his body remains on the roof, but everything else moves across the astral plane. Here, he is able to send himself to the place where he can confer with his own confidant. Here, he may return to his birthplace.

San Lorenzo holds a twofold birthplace for Arnold Shortman, both with their own importance. Exiting his mother's womb and entering these jungles, silencing a chaotic volcanic eruption with his arrival, his first birth brought forth the beginning of his life. Returning to these jungles 6 years ago to seek out his will to live once again, receiving his powers and training as a Spirit Master, he was born once again, finding the purpose to his life.

Now, arriving in the jungles of San Lorenzo in spirit, returning to the lost city of the Green-Eyed People in which his namesake comes from, Arnold returns to the jungles again to seek guidance from the one who had helped him begin his quest. Returning to the Temple of the Spirit Master, he meets once again with his mentor:

"Luz." Arnold said.

While not seeing the arrival of Arnold's spirit, Luz knew within an instant of his arrival, giving a smile by being graced by his student's presence.

"Welcome home, child. Or, should I say... 'Hey Arnold'." Luz said.

As Arnold leaves his body to make his way across hemispheres, the city where his body remains leaves more events unfold in the city of Hillwood. Where there lies one fantastical meeting between Spirit Masters far away from this city, there creates a meeting with two ordinary people, but the context behind the meeting far from ordinary.

At the home at the address of 523 Wylie Avenue, the therapist known as Dr. Scott makes his arrival to the home, looking to investigate a conflicting claim about his patient that could spell a closer look at his inner mind and what kind of diagnosis he could make. Approaching the front door to the house, Dr. Scott gave a firm knock on the door, awaiting an answer.

Following a short wait, Dr. Scott received an answer at the door, given by the real estate agent behind selling the property. With a briefcase in his hands, it appeared as though he was preparing to leave the establishment for the day. Having the arrival of Dr. Scott on his hands now, it seems that his leave would be delayed unexpectedly.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're done with house viewings for the day. If you'd like to make an appointment for another time, I can give you my card for-" The agent began to say.

"I'm not interested in buying the house. I heard that this is the residence where Thaddeus Gammelthrope, known also as 'The Freak' grew up here. Is that correct?" Dr. Scott asked.

Having had many others ask similar questions about the house too many times, the dealer gave an annoyed sigh, wishing that these questions would come to an end eventually.

"Look, I've told all you sickos who worship this guy, you can't come around here. If I see one of you again, I'm calling the cops." The agent said.

"I'm not a fan of the Freak. I'm his doctor." Dr. Scott said.

Where the agent was trying to get away from this man a moment ago, hoping to avoid him as quickly as possible, this news made him stop in his tracks and give a chuckle, pondering what kind of affairs he must put up with as his therapist.

"You're his doctor, huh? Well, god bless you, sir, that's one job I wouldn't take up. However, I'm really not interested in continuing this topic and I've got to get home, so if you could please move out of my way-" The agent began to say.

"I need your help, sir. I've gotten some conflicting information that he burned down his house, yet, if this actually is his house, then there's obviously some kind of missed angle here. I need to know if he's lying to me or not." Dr. Scott said.

"He's probably just lying to you. What's it to you?"

"Like I said, I'm his doctor. It's my job to help him."

"It ain't my business, but, if I were you, I'd find some way to off the guy. He's a total monster. That guy doesn't need help, he needs the electrical chair."

"I understand the kind of hate you feel for him, sir, I really do. I absolutely hate the things he's done. But I don't believe that there's any such thing as a lost cause or killing anyone will solve the problem. You might see him as a monster in human skin, but, I see him as a lost and scared kid. You can agree or disagree with me on that, but, as a doctor, my job is to help him, no matter what. All I want is to take a look around, know the kind of history behind this place. Anything you tell me can help. Please."

Moments ago, the agent was looking forward to his departure from the house, hoping to get away from its 'haunted' status as the home of America's very first supervillain. Seconds ago, the agent was hoping to get away from this stranger and not talk about the history behind this home and the monster that came from it.

Now, wanting nothing more than to make this man leave him in peace, the agent allows it anyways.

"Fine. Come in." The agent said.

"Thank you, sir. I guarantee you won't regret this." Dr. Scott said.

"Yeah, that's what they all say. I still think you shouldn't bother with him. So, you said you had some questions?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."