Wow, two updates in one day! Well hope you guys leave lots and lots of comments to let me know your thoughts! Thank you to Divine Arion and nothingsnobody for the reviews on chapter 5. Here's the next!

Chapter 6

I couldn't get those things out of my mind, mostly the photo. I know I've heard the name Glenda Burrow before and I know I've seen that station wagon and the older boy, even though his face is obscured, something seems very familiar. I sigh and put the picture back into the box and as I do so an image flashes through my mind. My head hurts as though nails are being hammered into my skull. A hand falls onto my shoulder.

"Hey sweetie, you okay?"

I don't answer her I just rub my head and hope to clear away the garbled flicker of strange memories and the throb of my headache.

"Glen, come to bed, it's late…you've been up looking at those things for the last three nights…"

I try to blot out her voice because it only makes my head ache grow and roar around more than ever. I don't know why I am so annoyed with her after all she's only showing her concern for me. She starts to rub my shoulders but it does not comfort, it does not relieve my stress, she grates on my nerves.

"Don't!" I snap at her and she draws her hands back in surprise. When I turn I can feel my face twist into a grimace of rage. It is Kane. I feel emotions that are not mine. I see the fear in her eyes and try to fight him away so I can take charge of myself. I don't know how I let this happen. Her face leaks color until she's white as an empty canvas, her eyes blink wide with alarm, her mouth falls slightly open and she takes a cautious step backwards. No baby, don't be afraid of me, it's not me! His anger is too much and it floods out my efforts to assert myself over him. It is like I am tossed aside within myself by a giant hand I can not see. I am being taken by a fictional character, how did I allow things to get this far, how did I allow things to get so out of control! That is the only common factor I share with Kane, we both feel out of control.

"I'm…Glen…I didn't mean…baby wh-what's going on?"

"I said, do not touch me woman!" My breath comes hard and quick with the anger that pulses through my veins, my voice booms through the house in a fearsome growl. Mm…what would it be like to see her strawberry blond hair turn crimson? What would it be like to tear her skin with my claws and feel the flesh snag and catch beneath them? It would be oh-so perfect and satisfying to watch the blood bubble forth like a life giving spring, or what would it be like to hear her bones crunch? I could take her little fingers and see which ways and how far I can bend them before the muscles and ligaments snap and tear, before the bones pop and push themselves up through her skin like jagged bloody teeth. Her cries would ring in my ears like beautiful music, her voice would beg and plead and sob, she would pray for mercy and I would deny it. I am Kane, and Glen is the one who should learn his place. Glen is no more than a fleeting whisper on the wind and he does not even know it. I am Kane and I am a monster who will not be destroyed. I love to induce suffering and I will. Glen is not strong enough.

A grin stretches across my face as I turn to the desk behind me. I see a paperweight and I curl my hand around it. Things I could do with this dance around my mind and make me smile. These beautifully disturbing images make me feel nearly high. I picture it lodged in the side of her head with fragments of bone and flesh dripping down her hair and neck, I see it shoved down her throat until she chokes on it. That makes me laugh just a little at first. If I close my eyes I can hear her choke on this heavy glass weight. As I shove and force this down her throat her trachea would tear and rip and she would gurgle on her own blood like some kind of sick mouthwash gargle, only it wouldn't make her mouth minty-fresh. This makes me laugh even harder, so much that tears spring to my eyes. I turn to her with the glass orb clutched in my hand. It can be my instrument of destruction. I decide that scene is something I would very much like to see in real time.

"Glen?" She asks hesitantly and I feel her small hand fall onto my back again. Stupid, pathetic, woman does she never learn? I am about to exterminate her worthless, wretched—I place the glass ball back onto the table. Glen is fighting me and damn him! He is much stronger than I thought. It is his love for her that makes him have strength. I know this is not my time to win. Before he wrestles me away I move my hand over the glass ball feeling the cool curved surface, I brush my fingers across the top of the box with the rough carved R etched into it, and stop and touch the blackened edges of this photo.

"Glen, what are you doing?"

I turn to her, ready to give her one last snarl—

"What? Jenna…are you okay?"

She doesn't understand what has just happened. She doesn't know I have just had a struggle with my fucking wrestling persona who wanted to crash a paperweight into her skull or cram it down her throat, holy hell! I wrap her in my arms and hug her a little too tight. I try not to tremble but I can't help it. That was the scariest thing that has ever happened in my entire life. I know Kane, I understand him, and if he can push me around whenever he likes…then I am in a deep pile of shit. I don't remember everything that just happened except that I—that Kane—that one of us—was about to snap on her. I hold her even tighter and her voice comes up muffled saying that I'm squeezing too tight. It is hard to let her go but with much will power I do. I feel my knees go wobbly and before they give out I half sit and half collapse onto the bed. I try to still my quivering hands and I run them over my face to find I am soaked with sweat. Her blue eyes study me with caution and worry and then she sits next to me. Her hand comes towards my face as though she is about to touch it but then she draws it away. She moves her mouth for a moment but at first nothing comes out. Finally, she speaks in a whisper.

"Are you okay? What's going on?"

What am I supposed to tell her? Kane is taking me over? I will not tell her that because firstly it sounds insane and secondly, I will not allow him to do such a thing. I say something that was meant only to be a thought in my own head.

"I'm calling Vince and he's giving me time off. He has to!"

My own voice sounds nearly foreign to me. It is shaky and unnatural.

"You're just tired baby." She kisses my sweaty forehead and her touch comforts. I swallow a lump in my throat and wonder if she could be right. I wish I could believe that but I just can't. There is something more to this, what could it be? Jenna peels my socks away and starts to rub my feet, an act which always makes me feel relaxed and sleepy. I fight with my heavy eyelids because I want to figure this out and end it. I'm losing however because Jenna is not entirely wrong. I am tired, especially after what just happened, I feel not just emotionally but physically drained, no, depleted. Her fingers knead my oversized feet and I feel myself succumb to sleep.

The next morning I wake to find a note on my nightstand that Jenna has went to the store to forage for food. I lay in bed a few moments and think of the night before. With a sigh I crawl out of bed. I shuffle over to the desk and look at the paperweight which could have been smeared with my wife's blood. I shutter and try to put the thoughts of last night away. I reach over the paperweight to grab my cell. I'm more than ready to give Vince a call and talk him into giving me some time off. I don't care what he has to work into the storyline. I stop as I notice the photo again. I don't want to keep obsessing over it but I find my fingers have picked it up instead of my cell. I study it once again and still feel that there is something right beyond the recesses of my memory, lurking in that bog like some awful monster. I turn the picture over expecting to see those letters again: R-K, KINCAID, AND GLENDA BURROW (PAULS SISTER) 1967. However my breath catches in my throat as I see new writing beneath the old. The words are formed in bold, uppercase, lettering just the way I sign my name as Kane. It is an address. 6774 N. Marshall St., Vicksburg, Tennessee. I feel I must be going crazy. Kane has left me a clue...what does he want me to know?

Okay, I know it is a short chapter. I had more but took it out and am saving it for later because it reveals the meaning behind one of the objects and I don't think it is time to do that yet. Bwa-ha-ha must keep you guessing!