A/N- I know this is late, I've been busy! Thanks for all the followers, the favorites and reviews!

Oh and I'm terribly sorry for this chapter (not really).

Chapter Twenty Two

Caleb Linney unlocked his door, pushing it inward. He'd stayed late at the office; it was nearing nine o'clock by the time he'd left. Caleb was what some people would call a workaholic. He called himself dedicated.

It didn't matter. In a few years he'd be retired, and he and his wife would move to the Keys or somewhere equally as relaxing. Caleb wasn't getting any younger, and as much as he loved his job he wanted to relax as well. Unfortunately an early retirement in a few years meant extra work now.

Caleb set his briefcase down in the hall, glancing up at the stairs. "Rita?" He called out to his wife, approaching the banister, "You home honey?"

There was no response. She had probably fallen asleep early; it was happening more and more these days. Sighing, Caleb turned and walked into the kitchen, hungry for leftovers from the previous evening.

But what he saw stopped him in his tracks.

There, sitting at his table, was a regal-looking man. His long blonde hair was tied back with a silken bow, his clothes, albeit odd, looked expensive. His cheeks were hallow, his lips pursed ever so slightly. But that wasn't what sold the look; it was his eyes. They were a sharp grey color, with a look so cold in them that it seemed to lower the temperature of the whole room. And they were fixed right on Caleb.

"Ah, Mister Linney," The man said, his accent rich and low, "I've been waiting for you,"

Caleb froze. I've got a psycho in my house, he thought anxiously, it's actually happening, there's a serial killer in my house

"Rita!" He called anxiously, stepping backwards shakily toward the hall, "Rita!"

"Oh, she's asleep," The man said assuredly, standing from the chair slowly, "I've made sure of that,"

Caleb shouted when he ran into someone. He spun around, coming face-to-face with a wild-haired woman. She smiled widely at him, revealing her rotted brown teeth. Caleb scrambled backward into the kitchen, his breath coming out in short pants.

"Oh Caleb, Caleb, Caleb," The British psycho spoke with ease, sighing loudly, "I'm terribly sorry but this has to be done," He took another step forward, "You see, I need to send my son a message,"

Caleb sputtered, his back against the refrigerator, "You need to do what now? Can't you just… send a letter?"

"Yes, I suppose, but your muggle method of sending mail is so slow," The man complained, reaching into his dress-like outfit. From it he drew a long stick, thin and polished. It rested in the man's hand like it was comfortable there. In his hand, it looked like a dangerous weapon.

It was ridiculous of course. If these people thought they could hurt him with a stick, they were sadly mistaken.

"Haha, very funny. Good luck trying to hurt me with that,"

"Oh you'd be surprised," The man commented, twirling it between his fingers. Suddenly, red sparks flew from the tip of the stick. Caleb startled. How did he do that?

"Enough of this!" The woman shouted suddenly, drawing Caleb's attention to her, "Can we kill him already?" She asked, impatiently.

Caleb felt his breath catch in his throat. They were going to kill him, oh god, oh god, oh god.

"Patience, Bella," The man assured soothingly, "All in good time. We need to… question him first,"

"Question?" Caleb asked nervously, his voice raising a pitch. The man smirked and 'Bella' cackled.

"Do you know someone named Evan McDermitt?" She asked suddenly, drawing her own stick from her dress.

Evan? What could they want with Evan?

"Yes he's one of my employees… Why?"

The man turned to Caleb, nodding his head slowly, "Because he is not Evan McDermitt, that's why. He's… someone far more dangerous than you could ever understand,"

Evan? Dangerous? Never.

"Why… I've known Evan for years, he's a nice man! He always gets his work done and he's never gotten in an argument with anyone!" Caleb defended, crossing his arms. His eyes swept behind his interrogators, searching for a way out. He was going to call the police if only he could reach the phone in the living room…

"He's not all he says he is," The man informed him, slowly twirling that damn stick about his fingers again, "He's… He's like us,"

"Like you? You mean crazy and psychotic?" Caleb shouldn't have provoked them, but he was furious. What were these people after anyway?

"No," The man answered, "A wizard. And a Death Eater. And… and my son,"

"A what?" Caleb shifted slightly to his right. If he could just cause a distraction…

"A wizard! He has magic you stupid piece of muggle filth!" Bella screamed, her stick pointed at his chest, "He is one of us, and you are nothing!"

"Relax, Bella," The man commanded, his tone sharp. Bella backed off, the crazed look in her eye trained on her partner. The man sighed.

"I just want to know where he lives. Certainly you must know,"

"No," Caleb lied, "I don't,"

And with that he dove to the side of the woman, dodging her outstretched hands. Caleb dashed across the kitchen floor, desperate to reach the living room so he could call 9-1-1. Instead, he heard a loud shout of, 'Avada Kedavra!' and a vague explosion of green light.

There was a split second in which Caleb Linney saw a flash of something. A memory. It was brief, but familiar. His two sons were smiling up at him, his wife Rita holding onto his arm. It was one of his favorite memories, from one of his boy's birthday parties. He couldn't remember which one now, but everyone had been so happy. It was the year before Rita's mom died and Caleb lost his job for a brief period of time and their family dog had run away. It was a moment of family togetherness and love that could never be twisted, even Caleb went through hell and back.

Then the moment was gone and Caleb Linney was no more. He'd fallen to the floor, dead.