I really shouldn't update this first.
Who am I kidding?

"Close the windows and curtains, close all the lights in the house, turn off all the electronic devices, mute all phones, grab all wireless phones, get more food and water, turn off the electricity, come back here and then I'll lock the basement door."

Conor looked at Rollan, raising an eyebrow. "How do you know so much about lockdowns and danger?"

"My mom has a cousin," Rollan responded, biting his lip.

"Talking about your mom, where is she?"

"With her cousin," Rollan responded, again biting his lip.

Conor looked to Rollan for a second, then left, digging in the depths of his brain to recover Rollan's instructions. He went upstairs to every window in the house and closed them and their galaxy themed curtains, turning off electronics and muting phones that he grabbed along the way. Conor ran inside the kitchen as if he were competing in an Olympic race, grabbing food and water, returning to the basement. For an instant, he wished Rollan recorded the timing. Instead, he just locked the basement door with a multiple number of locks and even threw a table or six to feed the door's wish of security.

One of the phones in Conor's handful of four phones rang. Not rang, really, but lit up.

"What's the name?" Rollan asked Conor.

"There is no name," Conor replied, looking at the number. "But it's not this area's code." He handed the phone over to Rollan, who carefully inspected the number. He answered, face blank, and then proceeded to slam the phone on the ground.

"Who was it?"

Rollan didn't immediately respond. He looked to Delphine, who was asleep on a small gym mat they managed to find in the basement, to Conor, who still wondered who on Earth Rollan could slam a phone for. He sighed, burying his head into his hands.

Mumbling, Rollan finally answered. "No one."

One a scale from one to ten with one being the lowest and ten being the highest, Conor would judge Rollan's helpfulness as a zero.

Trying to be optimistic, Conor said, "At least you didn't break the phone."

"But you woke me up."

Conor turned around to find Delphine walking around the basement, looking absolutely bored.

"Anyway…" started Conor, sighing. "What did that 'no one' say?"

"Nothing," Rollan muttered.

"So in conclusion," Delphine cut in, "you smashed that home phone for a no one who said nothing."

Rollan shrugged. "Whatever."

Conor didn't respond, neither did Delphine, but they both looked at Rollan with worry and curiousity.

X~x~X

"I'm not going anywhere," Abeke told Meilin, for the hundredth time. "You can't force me to."

Abeke sat on a tree stump in her tiny backyard, not facing anywhere but at Meilin.

"I have four maids and six servants. And I live in a mansion. My father won't mind if you join me. You get to pick one of the seven extra bedrooms," Meilin offered.

"I repeat," Abeke repeated, "I do not want anyone to do that. I don't care if you don't mind, because I mind. I told you about how much I hate it when people do things for me."

"Fine then, don't." Meilin left, the rage crystal clear on her face.

The thing with Meilin was this; she gets mad, she storms away, blaming you. You get mad; she says it's unreasonable and stupid. If it were up to Abeke, she would have probably taken Meilin to see some anger management treatment.

Just like she would do to her father.

It wasn't the best idea in the world, but it might work. Not that she would ever have the guts to suggest it, but she was allowed to have the imagination of a perfect family; a nice, calm, helpful, father, a joyful, not anxious mother, a brilliant, model sister, and herself, which she plans on changing at about age whenever-her-life-changes-dramatically, which, realistically, was many of years ahead.

She laid on the green grass, watching the late sky peacefully, nothing interrupting-

"ABEKE, COME QUICK! DID YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENED? OH MY GOSH, IT'S SO URGENT! YOU HAVE TO-"

"I'm coming, Soama, as long as you don't break my ears," she responded, sighing.

Abeke's sister was rarely in the house, usually only staying once she breaks up with a boyfriend. But whenever she was in the house, the neighbors would usually wear their 'Soama earmuffs' and went on 'Soama lockdown', which included shutting all windows, and any other ways of communications possible.

"What's wrong?" Abeke asked, faking her sympathy.

"Watch," Soama responded, easily, turning on the small television in her room.

"Explosion in Main Street Office, eight fifteen today," The reporter said. "We believe-"

That was all Abeke needed to hear.

X~x~X

Conor sat in the corner of the basement, still somewhat freaked out that the Ambusher was still out there. He checked his watch. It was ten o'clock. Rollan was getting a phone call from his mother, and Delphine was getting one from Lishay, who talked with Conor for a second, half relieved.

He checked his phone. No one had called. He hadn't called his parents, or his brothers, but surprisingly, no one had called him. Conor kept on telling himself his parents probably just didn't know about the situation on Main Street. He kept on telling himself that people made mistakes, and this was probably just one of them. He kept on telling himself everything he didn't believe, forcing himself to do otherwise.

Delphine hung up, looking at Conor. "Where's your phone call, Conor?" she asked, tinting her grey eyes at him.

"Oh. My family doesn't watch the news a lot, so, I guess they don't know about the explosion," he lied, not very smoothly. It didn't matter, anyways, since he was talking to a six or seven year old girl.

"Liar," Delphine muttered, much to Conor's surprise. "Don't lie to me."

"Then don't ask me questions," he stated, with a final note.

Conor knew it was no way to treat a little girl, but when it came to his personal life, he didn't like it when people asked questions. And plus, a little girl who could tell lies from truth was no ordinary girl.

He heard Rollan hanging up, walking over to Conor and Delphine's past conversation.

"Maybe we should call the girls," Conor suggested.

"Maybe we shouldn't," Rollan suggested.

"Maybe this conversation isn't going anywhere," Delphine pointed out, clear that she thought the two boys were ridiculous.

"Sassy today," Rollan said, to no one in particular.

Conor sat down on the dusty carpet of the basement, which he guessed was vacuumed approximately once every century. Rollan wandered around pointlessly in the basement, seeming anxiously tense and bored at the same time. Delphine peeked out the small basement window once a while pretending to be somewhat bored, but even Conor could see the tired look on the little girl's face.

"You should get some rest," Conor suggested, facing Delphine. "You're tired."

"And scared," she replied. "If I die tonight, I don't want to sleep through it."

Conor put a hand on the little girl's shoulder. "You won't die tonight. And plus, it's ten. Much too late for a girl your age."

"I'm seven," the girl complained, "and you are not my mother, my father, my sister, or my deceased brother, I hope. And plus, why should I listen to someone who lies to my face?"

Conor didn't have anything to say about that.

Rollan gave them each a chocolate chip cookie his mother made. Conor bit into his at the same time Delphine and Rollan did.

"This is gross," Rollan criticized. "No wonder why my aunt got some sickness at my mom's cousin's second wedding." He paused, staring upwards. "Or was that just an excuse to not go to the wedding?"

Delphine spat hers out in the garbage can. Conor politely ate the cookie, realizing how much bathroom time it could cause him.

"What is wrong with your mom's cousin?" Conor asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Many things are wrong with her," Rollan replied with a scared expression on his face. "Many, many, things."

Conor didn't want to know more about the psychopath cousin Rollan's mom had.

He sat there, still waiting for a call from his family. He saw some texts from Lishay, asking about Delphine. 'Is she safe?' one said. 'Are you and Rollan safe?' another asked.

Conor sensed that Lishay was a bit in her paranoid state. He couldn't blame her, as he knew Lishay had already lost a sibling due to a murder.

"Tell me a story," Delphine commanded. "Tell me a true story."

Rollan did his infamous smirk. "About my mom's cousin?"

Delphine didn't answer, so Rollan told the story.

"This is the story of my mom's cousin's third wedding, in Hawaii island," Rollan said, smirking. "It was just last month, on April 25th, or as we all say, St. Mark's day."

"I have never heard of that in my entire life," Conor commented.

"Anyway," Rollan continued, glaring at Conor, "that day was the day of the third wedding, between Alinda Marcius and Jason Smith. The wedding vows were already done, and it was party time. I was babysitting Alinda's poor little son, a four year old named Allan, from her first husband. Then, Jayden, Jason's sixteen year old brother came bursting through the door of the toddler's room. He came back from his bathroom break and was sweating all over his forehead. He yelled, "MY SISTER IN LAW IS CRAZY!" And I was like, "You didn't know that already?" But, of course, I wasn't helping. So Jayden dragged Allan and I to the party room, where Alinda was screaming at the top of her lungs at Jason, who wasn't interested whatsoever in pointlessly screaming back. Alinda was smashing glass bottles on tables and traumatizing her son. She-"

"Wait," Conor cut in. "Isn't this violent? Isn't this traumatizing for a little girl to hear?"

"She wanted to hear a true story," Rollan reasoned. "And this is as true as they get."

Delphine surprisingly agreed with Rollan.

"Anyway," Rollan continued with yet another glare straight into the depths of Conor's eyes, "she kept on quoting the curse word dictionary at Jason, who kept on laughing because of how hilarious she sounded. But who could blame him? We were all dying of laughter on the inside; just none of us had the guts to actually laugh out loud. So apparently, Alinda kicks Jason in the head, but ironically, she misses and falls to the ground, landing on the glass shards that cut her back. She was sent to the hospital in Hawaii for three days, and then she came home with us because she was sobbing that yet another husband had, not surprisingly, filed for divorce. Skip to a week later, and she decided to get revenge on Jason. What did she do? She flew to Hawaii, breaking into Jason's huge penthouse, and dumped a bag of snakes in his apartment. Then, she started dating a random guy named Wyatt, and right now, right at this moment, is their wedding. And then my mom told me how Alinda smashed a ceramic plate on Jason's head just now, and Alinda's off to find snake dealers in the province of British Columbia. The end," Rollan finished, with a smile on his face.

Delphine laughed, as if this were a happily ever after. Clearly, it was not, but Delphine didn't seem to care. She seemed to enjoy the terrible and traumatizing wedding stories. "What happened to Jason?" Delphine asked, curious.

"Well, uh, it turns out, the penthouse wasn't Jason's, but instead it was a floor of a hotel. But don't worry, no one died, and only eighteen people got bit."

"Only?" Conor asked, shivering.

"There were about two hundred people partying on that floor, the same night. It's a miracle only eighteen people got bitten."

Delphine fell asleep again, but this time on the carpet. Rollan grabbed a light blanket to cover the little girl in her sleep. Or at least, that was probably what Rollan was planning on doing, except a pound came from the back of the house.

"Did you lock the back door?" Rollan asked, while shaking Delphine.

"You have a back door?"

The pound came to their basement door, not long before it disappeared, only to appear again, at the window.

Glass shattered.

X~x~X

Meilin's cellphone woke her up. Not that she was sleeping, but she was getting somewhat close to falling asleep, and the cellphone beeping didn't help with her insomnia. It was Rollan. Rollan. Never in the world had she ever randomly received a text message from Rollan, who probably ran a campaign against the use of cellphones. She opened the message. There was one word: Help.

She jumped out of her bed and changed into some decent clothes. She had no idea exactly where Rollan was, but she assumed he was in his house. She creeped down the stairs, making sure to not wake any butler or maid. She ran down the dark streets of the city, barely anyone present. The only things she noticed were the things that weren't supposed to be present. Like the silence in the street, or the glares of the others, or the extra locks on companies that were supposed to be open twenty-four hours a day. The things that were supposed to be present but weren't here, like the lights of homes, or the bright streetlights, or the warm welcome of the outside.

There were only the loudest screams of souls here. There were only the echoes of fear here.

Something must have happened.

Something bad.

Something loud.

Something that echoed the parallel world of fear.

And Alice makes another repetitive cliff hanger.