And here is chapter 13, more dialogue and more story. How shocking.

Once again, I hold no copyright to the characters and such.

Chapter 13

The difference between the 'higher class' area of the town and the poorer area where Kenneth lived was as striking as a sudden cleaver to the neck. As if we had crossed an invisible barrier we found ourselves off of cracked pavement and onto dirt path that still had a thin layer of snow on it. The buildings had gone from mundane and dull to resembling the set of a post apocalyptic movie. The people from mostly muscled and well kept to slightly underfed and with a small layer of grime.

Neither of us made any comment but the fact that we stuck out like a rabbit in a herd of lion didn't do well for either of our moods. I didn't want to judge, but we looked like we had money in a sea of the desperate.

I sympathised with Kenneth, he must have been a much stronger person than me to be around Eric for years and have to deal with his living conditions.

Kenneth's house was something that was definitely against the law for him and his sister to live in. Painted a deep, vile green, bringing images of a swamp to mind, the door was covered in splinters and the same was for the half standing fence behind. The winding, leading pathway was littered with chunks of concrete and patches of snow seeped onto it as if it were invading the cleared area. The single window next to the door had a pink curtain behind which was ripped as if someone had decided to go raging with a kitchen knife.

There was a garage next to the building but the roof had entirely caved in and the same was for the garage door.

Damien walked up and gave a quick knock on the door that almost bended inwards to his tiny force.

Suddenly, man's shout burst from inside, very loud and nearing obnoxious.

"KENNY YUH GET THAT."

For a second the sound of an argument echoed forward and backwards, Kenneth arguing against his father until Kenneth apparently lost and virtually ripped open the door.

When he saw Damien and me behind he fell out of his previous anger.

"Oh. I don't expect you to come to my place-"

"WHO THA FUCK IS IT?" Shouted Kenneth's father from a room or two in the house. His tone bringing thoughts of a furious Rottweiler or a Pitbull.

"SOME FRIENDS!"

"WELL LEAVE OR TELL THEM TO COME THA FUCK IN, WE CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE ANY MORE HEATING."

"Fucking prick." Kenneth muttered under his breath.

"Damn, how the hell do you deal with that?" Damien asked as Kenneth.

"Being a prick back, it's what he deserves. I'm gonna guess I know what you're here for, let's go somewhere more private."

He came out and led us to the caved in garage where he quickly moved to the back. Following, we found him leaning against a back door to the building.

"Give me a hand here."

"Couldn't we just use your room?"

"Karen… My sister's sleeping in there; I don't want to risk her getting into this."

"This is the same thing I'm thinking of right?"

"It is." I answered.

In one slow moment they pushed the door open slightly before whatever was behind it got stuck on the wall.

"Shit." Kenneth said. "Pip, could you slip in and push that bookshelf out of the way."

"Why the hell is there a bookshelf blocking the door?" Asked Damien.

"There's more than just privacy in there."

"I… what the hell do you mean?"

"We'll find out when Pip opens it." Kenneth said, glancing over to my direction, I got a good look at him; he had large bags under his eyes and looked generally exhausted. I hadn't really looked at his face when he was in school and I guessed he had been putting on a facade, or maybe he just felt safer in the depressing grey walls of school.

Obeying I slipped in, the gap was barely wide enough to fit my slim body and my cast, which I had to painfully lift over my head so I could fully push myself through.

The inside was virtually pitch black, only a few small beams of light from the sloped down roof and the door behind shed the slightest fingertips of creeping, explorative brightness. Blocking the door was a bookshelf that was down on its side in front of the door, the only surviving furniture was a chair and draws to the other end of the garage.

For a bookshelf it was very easy to move, it was made of flimsy plywood that was dampened to a point that it had nearly broken by Kenneth and Damien pushing it. The door itself seemed to be the reason for Kenneth having such a hard time enter, the hinges looked redder than the aftermath of a medieval battlefield.

It took one small push to move the flimsy blockade against the wall and give more space for Kenneth and Damien to try and open the resistant door.

Quickly they were in and the door was closed behind them, my vision was quickly plunged to near black but they adjusted fast. Only the small poles of light as an indicator that it hadn't suddenly became an overcast night.

I saw Kenneth's silhouette move along the darkness where he opened a drawer and withdrew a flashlight that, as if woken from an enjoyable sleep, angrily shot it's brightness across the room in a single cone of light that left a wall of looming darkness behind him. The shadows of the cracked and broken ceiling hung down like hanging bats above, blotching the white light with black spots.

"Well this is definitely more private." Remarked Damien.

"Be glad no one saw you or my parents would think I'm fucking both of you."

"What!" I exclaimed, very much red in the face, Damien didn't look as shocked.

"Well I have a place where no one except me goes, what else am I gonna use it for?"He said with a suggestive smile and wink. He was definitely not entirely sane, watched by fanatical madmen and he keeps cracking jokes, I hoped to god that this was just a way for him to cope.

"Makes sense." Damien replied.

"Well, that and to hide this." He said and then moved back to the door, swiftly changing the light from us to the draw. He pulled the bottom most draw out and the sound of clinking metal echoed for a second before he pulled out something, spun on the spot and got onto one knee, presenting a handgun as if it were an engagement ring.

"Jesus!" I got out in shock at both the quick movement of light and the extremely dangerous weapon now in front of me. I knew he had it, I just never expected to have it so close up.

"Why the hell do you have a gun?" Asked Damien, oddly relaxed and cool about the situation. I on the other hand had decided to move to the sidelines.

"Took it from my dad, he didn't know, still doesn't." He remarked the smile going from suggestive to as sly as a comical cat burglar. "A shit ton of ammo too, at least know what my sister's college fund went to." He (hopefully) joked.

"Can you use it?" Asked Damien.

"Of course. I wouldn't be part of a redneck family if I couldn't."

"Good, why are you showing us it?"

"Well, now we have a way of defending ourselves."

"Or, when my dad goes to the police, we can get a patrol around here." Damien flatly said.

"What? Do you actually think this town's police will actually do anything? They can't even get of their asses to get a cup of coffee! They're not going to help you."

"They will. Unless they want god knows how much information spread about them. My dad knows his shit, if you ignore the preaching." Damien said it with the confidence of a preacher himself.

"Let's fucking hope so… and preacher? We already have one here, I don't really give a fuck but what religion? You don't seem it."

Damien pulled out the neck of his jumper and pulled up the pendant (of which he had been hiding for the past couple of days.) It's expensive silver circle shining its demonic pseudo-power against the light. It still brought queer images to mind that were the only things that could be associated with the artefact.

"Shit man! A bit of advice, don't show that fucking thing many places around here, shit you'll get fucking beheaded. This place turns back two hundred fucking years when religion gets involved."

"I will do, why do you think I've got a fanatical cult after me?"

"Fucking hell, what the hell do they want with me or Pip though?"

"Phillips my friend, that makes sense, you though? I have no idea… You're Christian and their Christian. It makes no sense."

"I know my parents went to some freaky cult shit a long while back, but that was just for free booze; I think that's why I'm immor-... I think that might be why I'm being watched."

"Maybe, anyway, we were coming here so my dad could get all of us some help from the police. If it wasn't for Philip then I wouldn't have known you were even a part of this."

"I'm not expect-…. Fuck it, why not, I can come with you, I ain't doing anything else."

"Well thank god you actually accepted. But… Put that gun away, dad can get a bit… unsettled by them."

"What? Uh, sure." He said, putting the weapon back in its oversized wooden holster. "Why?"

"I nearly got my brains blown out by one of those psychos; I think it affected him more than me."

"Right, makes sense, I'm glad they didn't, it would be a shame if someone like you died."

"...Are you hitting on me?" Damien asked, a red tint on his cheeks like rust on clean metal.

"Maybe. If you want me to?"

"I don't."

Kenneth smiled wide once more "Then I'm not."

"Kenneth." I quietly said, gaining both their attention "Is now really the time to be… to be saying that."

He smiled wide once more and slung his arms around my shoulders, hurting my arms slightly thanks to the added pressure but not enough to make me cry out - thankfully -.

"Pip… It is never really the time to be saying things like that in this fucked off town but, ya know, fuck it. You could have a shotgun my head and I'll probably joke to his face or ask for sex, ya never know, it might work."

"Yes, um, can-... could we leave now?" I mumbled.

He looked down at me seeming like a giant to a pebble.

"A better idea than being stabbed by Fanatics, Damien?"

"Yes?"

"Let us be off to stop these bastards, have the police save the day and spend the rest of our lives on coke and hookers!"

"It sounds better than what we have now." He remarked, still flat.

We left soon after, having Kenneth remarking on everything like a running commentary. Seemingly taking nothing seriously.

The streets were sparsely encumbered, no more than three people could be seen at once as everyone else had already gotten home and it looked like not many people had plans for the day.

It felt strange, like every window had eyes behind them, watching, waiting for us to pass them so the watcher could burst out and go for the kill. In one walk to Damien's house every corner became a non-existent death-trap that I couldn't stop from pillaging my mind like a barbarian to pure, ripe land.

"Are you ok Philip?" Asked Damien as we crossed the road that I mentally marked as the halfway point from Kenneth's to Damien's. "I know this situation is bad but it'll be fine."

"I… Maybe."

"If I've gotten this far away from them, I'm sure we will be fine. I don't know why, but I think this is the last I will be seeing of them."

"And why would you think so optimistically?" Asked Kenneth.

"I don't know, it's just a feeling."

"Well, if your feelings are that good, my friend we're robbing a bank next."

"W-why?" I asked.

"Why not?"