Edoodle: I'll update Wednesday night or Thursday morning. Sorry for the false alarm.

I was not about to abandon Hanna; Worth was the best aid Hanna could afford. He understood more about Hanna than anyone I knew, and I would be dead again before I left without doing everything I could for Hanna. I took a step closer to the plainly jarred doctor, who took a step back in reply. All the sudden, I just had the nearly irresistible urge to lunge at the man; Hanna was infirm, potentially dying, and he was insisting on dancing with me. I lay the debilitated man-child on a desk, and while Worth immediately wrinkled his long nose in disinclination, and I raised a hand.

"One way or the other, I am getting answers."

"Ya can't always get whatcha want, Zombie."

I was tired of delaying. Curling my hand into a fist and sent it flying at Worth's jaw, who responded too late, which left my fist colliding into his jaw with a sickening crunch. As Worth toppled to the ground in shock, I watched as he furrowed his hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a scalpel. Things were about to get serious, fast. I braced myself for the worst, because I knew Worth would gladly use that scalpel.

"Ya wanna try that again, Zombie? I'm not fuckin' 'round. Take the kid and get the hell outta my office."

"Why won't you just help him? What cost would that be to you?"

"Its nunna yer damn business, Zombie – "

"I think my friend dying makes it my business. Tell me what you know."

Worth glared at me radically before jumping with alarming ease to his feet and pointing the scalpel at me threateningly. I didn't dare back down, he knew something; why else would he be ready to stab someone? I was quick to make a plan in my mind. If Worth made to attack, and I did not doubt that he would, I would simply retaliate and get the scalpel away from him. How much damage could a neurotic doctor do?

It had been half-witted of me to think that I could easily take down Worth without any harm to myself. He was five times quicker than I had originally perceived, easily plunging the scalpel into my abdomen before I had a second to react. I grabbed the forearm that held the medical instrument, but that didn't daunt Worth at all. He seemed, in fact, to have been enjoying himself. I believe that solves the mystery as to why he always wanted to be a doctor.

But I still had a few tricks yet; while Worth was busy trying to make mincemeat of my stomach, I twisted both of my hands with which I held the doctor's wiry wrist. With profound force I didn't know I possessed, I could feel and hear Worth's wrist cracking under the pressure. He howled in anguish, sprang back, and clasped his hand, which dropped the scalpel. I was quick to put my foot over it, so he could not recover the weapon. I couldn't very well pick it up, now that I had a gaping hole in my side which radiated pain even as I stood there.
We had stared at one another for a moment, obviously weighing the pros and cons of continuing the fight. In hopes to fix the break, Worth bit his lip and pulled his arm back and high as he could before bringing it down as hard as possibly could on the wall next to him. After shouting obscenities that I didn't even know existed, he held his wrist again before turning it, allowing it to pop back into place. A silent agreement had been made. Without looking at Hanna, he opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out bandages, tossing them to me.

"'Mont found 'im. I'd quit med school, cos I didn't want to be a lovey with patients. 'Mont brought the kid in here and told me to fix 'im up…What can I say? The moron grew on me. Me and Lamont got together 'nuff money fer him to stay in some 'partment, but Hanna would always drop by. Tellin' me 'bout some ghost…"

Worth paused in the middle of his bitter recount to take a look at Hanna. I could tell I wasn't going to like this story.

"By the time I'd operated on Hanna, he 'ready had that scar on 'is chest. Never told me 'ow he got it. But once, I got 'im to talk about Claus. Got 'im drunk, that's 'ow. Told me everythin'. Look; you should talk to 'im yerself. S'not my business…'Nyway, he's been worse off than this 'fore you came along. The only thing you can do fer 'im is talk to Claus. That ghost is the reason he gets so sick."

By the time Worth had finished speaking, and by the time I had been able to sift through his butchered accent, all I could do was nod to show that I understood. But there was still one thing…

"Why don't I see Claus?"

"Yasee that rune on 'is hand? He created that one. Keeps people from seein' what he sees."

This announcement left us in stillness. I began to put together everything; it all made sense, according to Worth's story. And another plus: I could do something to help. I could stop Claus from making Hanna worse. I nodded again to Worth, and lifted Hanna off the dusty desk, and crossed the office to the door.

"Don't think yeh'll figure it out on yer own. Call up Count Fagula, and whoever else. An' – hey – don't tell Hanna what yer doin'."

"Right…"

I left after that, hobbling slightly from my new wound. I confess I felt a little proud, having sustained such an injury. Although to an outsider, I probably looked even less trustworthy now that I had to limp slightly in order to keep Hanna from touching the wound. To Count Fagula's, I decided. Conrad would be able to watch over Hanna while I investigated the ghost. But I decided to disregard most of Worth's advice; I was perfectly capable of solving this problem without dragging everyone else into it.

"Why me!"

"Just take him, Conrad. I can't leave him to anyone else."

"Hell no, he's sick!"

"You're dead. You can't catch it."

"Oh – right. Well, I don't want him throwing up everywhere! Why don't you just watch him!"

"Then get him a bowl. I have to get help."

"So just take him to Worth's – my friend has a car, she'll drive us."

"Conrad – just trust me. I can't leave him with anyone else, I've already seen Worth, and I'll fill you in on the details later. If he wakes up, just…Play him music. Queen."

And with that, I left a pissed Conrad Achenleck standing in the middle of his own apartment, with a sick, and still unconscious, man on his favorite couch. I decided not to consider the possibility that Hanna might wake up and see Claus, kicking and screaming, vomiting on Conrad's furniture. It was not a pretty picture, and I was not ready to relive it. No – I had a job to do. I couldn't spend my time worrying.

I stood in front of the park's gate, a little shaken. It seemed the logical place to go – being the location in which Hanna's last memory of Claus had taken place. The world around me seemed to be in autumn, but the closer I got to the park, the more chilled the air became. I could still feel, mind, but I was still working on temperature. This intense cold, however, was so chilling that it left me shivering. But I pushed open the century-old gate, and stepped into the lonely park, the dead grass crunching under my feet.

The park itself was rather pleasing to look at, like a winter wonderland, minus snow. I wrapped my arms around myself as I entered, my coat being whipped around me by an impossible
gust of air. The trees had icicles hanging from them, some looking sharp enough to stab someone with. The flowers that had once blossomed were now withered and gone, unable to stand these harsh conditions. There was a large hill in the middle of the park with a tree atop it. From there, I decided, I could see the entire park.

As I took the last agonizing step to the top of the frozen hill, grasping tight to the tree for support, I took a quick look around every corner of the park. But when I felt a tap on my shoulder, I turned just in time to see Claus as an adult ghost, smirking behind me. The smirk looked as though it was Hanna's – if Hanna had an evil grin. Claus actually looked more human that ghost, as actual color was finding its way onto him. He was taller than Hanna, although not as thin. Claus's face was without any scar or mark, minus the gaping bullet wound between his eyes.

"I thought you'd come…I never did catch your name."

Thanks for the reviews guys! You're awesome!
Butchered accents are hard to type! Suddenly, I appreciate Tessa more, who happens to own Hanna is Not a Boy's Name, although I have to admit, I had fun making Claus.
Chapter Four should be here WEDNESDAY, if I can manage it.
I feel so much better now! I'm finally over my head cold.

Finally.