He had been watching the ceiling for long enough, so Brian turned on the light and tried to read a book. After noticing that he had finished the chapter and had no idea of what it was about, he got up, walked to the living room and turned on the television. The programs at that time of the night were not much good, they should have helped him get sleepy, but he still was too nervous to focus on it.

Inside the closet was the object of all his attention: the case which contained the shotgun he had bought.

He had put it away, where he couldn't see it and feel ashamed of having purchased it. He had no idea of why he had done it and waited for hours to pass so the armory opened and he could return it.

However, that thing had such a power over his thoughts that he wasn't being comfortable with the idea of getting rid of it either.

He couldn't take it anymore and changed his clothes, grabbed the shotgun and drove to the woods surrounding Warner Falls.

It was so dark he couldn't see where he was going, nothing more than blurry silhouettes at the most. Hearing his own breathing only made his body hair stand on end. He was probably going to get in trouble with the law. So why was he doing this?

Because it was the only way to end with that itch. There, alone, with the shotgun in his hands, he felt so much better.

The little twigs breaking under his boots as he walked were the only thing that made a sound in that dead night, in that dead place. No stars to orientate himself. No moon. How, then, could he walk around with such confidence?

Because he had been doing this for a long time.

Or at least it felt like so. Even though it was the first time he was doing something like this, it was a familiar feeling, to walk around a forest with no plan and no directions, just feeling the soft breeze, listening to the silence, enjoying the solitude. He guessed it was not the first time. Perhaps his father or his uncle Robert took him hunting when he was small, so small that he didn't remember. Or did he see this on the television and lived it like it was his own life?

Did it matter? No. All that mattered was getting rid of the itch, the craving, the desire.

He felt guilty just for a second. There was no one around. No one to hear, no one to complain, no one to hurt, either.

How natural it felt, to load the cartridge, hold the standard grip and the fore-grip in the right position, close one eye, aim at a tree, then shoot!

The recoil, the bang and the bark of the tree bursting made his heart jump. But it wasn't fear.

He even grinned, satisfied with himself.

He would have done anything for having something alive to shoot at.

Warren didn't like drinking alcohol during work hours, didn't allow it, but this situation was so unheard of he made an exception with his subordinates and himself. He offered Luc a glass and he accepted. He, on the other hand, offered Warren a cigarette but he refused.

"Okay...So..." Warren started to say, but he paused, took several big gulps of his drink and didn't speak again until a good while later. "So...We have like...a homeless, deranged Superman on the loose. A man capable of tearing down a wall made of solid bricks. And mentally sick—that's an important detail we can't leave out. And where is he now? We don't know. And that miniature angel of death, Stewart, took the chance to escape, so I'll correct myself: we've got two deranged men on the loose. Stewart didn't tear any walls but he's dangerous like a monkey with a razor..."

Luc exhaled the smoke and nodded a little bit, slowly, with an absent expression.

"I really don't want to do this but people must be warned. Billy's not a bad man but right now he's dangerous, and I can't let him harm anybody. And the priest, if he started a shooting, nothing assures us he won't do it again. We have to alert everyone. Someone must have seen them. Billy, at least. For Pete's sake, with the mess he's left behind, someone must have seen him!"

Luc was still mute. His eyes were looking at the smoke which ascended towards the ceiling.

"I pray we don't have to shoot him down if we find him. But if he leaves us no choice..."

Warren hushed and gazed at Luc, and he didn't make a sound or say anything. He didn't even look back at him.

"I guess I'll have to paint my nipples with glitter and dance naked in front of everyone at the Square. That should attract him, don't you think?"

Luc nodded and Warren slammed the table with his open hand.

"Damn it all, Luc, you're not listening to me! I keep spitting facts and you're dodging! You're everywhere but here! I know I called you pretty early in the morning but this, I say, this is important, and call me crazy but you should be at least a little concerned that–!"

"My marriage is dead."

Warren raised his eyebrows.

"...Huh?"

With the dramatic ways of a Shakespearian actor, Luc took a long drag off his cigarette and stared into space.

"I did everything at all for her...God knows I've tried to keep the passion alive...I left everything, my whole life, my family and friends, to follow Sylvia to the United States...I knew passion would fade with time, the children wouldn't allow us to do the things we used to do together...Yes, alright. Patience. I don't mind about not being able to take her out for dinner or making love twice a day, like before; but I still hoped love would be there, you know...Like...a kiss every time we left the house, how was your day, darling, a compliment now and then...But...you know...I don't remember when was the last time we sat and actually held a conversation. Lately all we do is argue. We barely see each other and when we finally go to bed at the end of the day, she is too tired for cuddles or anything...I think we grew tired of each other. I think...we never really loved each other. I never thought of giving up until now...I'm asking myself if it's worth trying, all the pain...I'm not even sure I still love her, if I didn't make a mistake marrying her...I've come to think that we are together because of the children...just...mere routine..."

"...Yeah... You definitely have a problem, and I am sorry for you." Warren interrupted him, talking with a soft, slow voice. "But, please, we have a very important issue here, there might be lives at risk. So..."

Luc blinked slowly and, slowly too, considered the situation in their hands.

"...Oui, oui, I am sorry...Uh, sure, we have to...warn everybody..., find Billy and arrest Stewart before they hurt somebody..."

"I hope they haven't done it yet." Warren sighed, and he finished the little whiskey remaining in his glass.

Martin's eyes turned to Treg, sat by his side, his head almost resting on his shoulder.

"Go to bed."

Treg made a funny noise and his eyelids opened brusquely, only to go back immediately to his comfortable posture.

"Nah, I'm fine..."

"You're dozing, Treg."

"I'm not. I'm just relaxed."

"Go relax to your bed." Martin sighed, crossed his arms and leaned back a little bit.

Of course he was sleeping. To him that documentary about European space technology was fascinating but to Treg, of course it was a complete bore. He was only interested in cartoons and quiz shows with good-looking hostesses.

There was just one thing that interested the young man, and that was the place where all those big parabolic antennas were, a barren land.

"I so want to get out of here..." Treg muttered right when Martin thought he had surrender to sleepiness. "Come on, let's talk about the things we will do when we get out of this stupid town."

"'Tell me about the rabbits, George?'", Martin smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"What rabbits? Who's George?"

"Haven't you read Of mice and men?"

"Dunno."

"You're an uncultured punk."

"And you're a smartass."

Martin rolled his eyes and satisfied Treg's demand. In fact, now that he was watching that place, he was in the mood for delighting in such fantasies.

"When summer is over and we make enough money, we will leave this town, we will leave all towns and drive off to the middle of nowhere. Because in nowhere the skies are blue, in nowhere there are no clouds or a soul, only plains that extend beyond sight. There will be no one to tell you what to do, to look down or you or bicker about your life choices, no one to please, no one to bother you. Just the two of us...Until I get tired of you and kick you out in the middle of-"

Long roads where one could run freely...That seemed like Treg's lullaby. He had closed his eyes again and didn't open them. Martin got quiet when he noticed he wasn't listening to his little joke.

Martin watched only half a minute more of the program before his whole attention turned to his sleeping friend.

The two of them alone...That sounded like one of his terrible ideas. But...

Another distraction. That scent again...He sniffed around. It was Treg! It had nothing to do with sweat or perfume: it was his scent, how he was supposed to smell naturally, wasn't it?

Martin's stomach started to protest.

Why? He wasn't hungry, they had had a good dinner just an hour ago.

He felt an impulse. He tried to fight it but he found himself succumbing. He leaned on Treg, a little bit at first, to later be so close he could feel his breathing. Again, his mouth was getting full of saliva. The scent got so intense it was driving him crazy. Obeying his impulse, he licked the space between the shoulders and the neck and finally sank his teeth into it.

Treg let out a yelp and kicked Martin right in the testicles, making him fall off the sofa with a grunt.

The blue-haired man touched his neck with his brow lowered and mouth opened.

"Dude, you bit me! What?!"

"I..." Martin stammered.

Good thing Treg didn't leave him finish, because the truth was that Martin didn't know what to say. "I you wanted me to go to bed, just say it! Ow! That hurt"

And he got up and, saying nothing else, still rubbing the bitten area, he walked to his bunk bed and, turning his back on him, closed the curtain.

Martin stood up and remained there in silence. He was scared that, inside the confusion, there was a small feeling of frustration.

He tasted Treg and he—liked it.

No. Saying that he liked it was falling short.

He wanted more. He wanted to...

His stomach hurt more than ever, being shown what could have appeased it and having it taken away.

What was wrong with him? The hunger he was feeling...was for Treg! He wanted to devour him!

«Meet me at my house at midnight. I need to tell you something. Don't tell your parents.»

Clampett Street was silent, empty. The Murphies, like most of the town, had to get up early in the morning to go to work and pay the bills, so Pip had to pretend he was sleeping until all sound ceased at his house. Then, he sneaked out as silently as he could. Pip finally got to Mrs. Hart's house. He saw a light coming out of the hall. He crossed the garden, whose flowers smelt with intensity at the last hours of the day, and knocked at the door.

After a few seconds of waiting, they opened but it was not Mrs. Hart who did it. It was Isadore. He quickly got out and closed the door behind him, standing in there like a wall of bricks.

"Hi, Izzy...How's everything?" Pip asked, to lighten the atmosphere, because he was getting really scared.

"Not very well." Isadore replied, glaring at him. "Do you know why? Because I told you I didn't want to see you here, and you came back."

Yes, he had reasons to be scared...

"...I was going to do what you said, I swear, but your grandma loves me, Izzy, and I love her, and I couldn't..."

"You're fooling no one."

Pip was about to ask him what he meant but Isadore didn't let him try.

"I knew from the very moment I saw you, from the start." He said with grunting, whispering voice. "You may have melted my grandma's heart with your flattery, but I know the likes of you. Poor, innocent sweetie pies who are rotten inside, and would do everything at all to get what they want. Lie, pretend...and worse."

Pip attempted to look at the windows, see behind Isadore. "...Where's Mrs. Hart? She wrote to me and told me..."

"She's sleeping. She just needs to drink her customary Magnolia tea cup at night and not even War World III at the kitchen will awake her. It was me who wrote you the note. I used to falsify her signature when I was at school. I wanted to have a talk with you in private and put an end to this, since you didn't listen to me the first time I told you."

Pip drew back, his big blue eyes open wide with alarm.

"Izzy, you're scaring me…I…Why are you telling me this? What did I ever do to you?" He babbled.

"What did you do to me?" Isadore hesitated for a second. "Nothing. Yet. But I don't like you. That's enough reason. I tried to give you a chance to stay away, but you didn't listen to me and now you're forcing me to do this..."

Isadore was getting dangerously close, his eyes flaming with hate. He…Was he really going to hurt him? Pip felt rigid, too scared to run away or scream for help.

But his instincts knew what to do.

It all happened so fast that the child didn't realize what he had done after he saw one the stone cat statues guarding the door in his hand and Isadore lying on the floor. There was blood on the statue and the floor.

Pip's heart beat so hard he felt he was about to have a heart attack, but it relieved him a little bit to hear Isadore groaning softly, though he didn't move much. His hands refused to let go the statue. It took him a little while to move. Even the weight of the weapon of the crime seemed delayed, it took him a little to realize he was holding something beyond his strength. When he did, he dropped the ornament at his feet and ran away, faster than ever before.

When he got to the street, he bumped into a man. The sheriff!

"Hey, son! Where's the-I say, where's the fire?" Warren chuckled.

But Pip rushed away without saying a thing. Warren looked at Luc, shrugged—"the boy's got more rush than a cheetah in flames"—and went back to the conversation the two of them were having, walking past the body lying just a few yards away from them.

"It's not me you should tell all these things, but Sylvia." He asked his partner.

"I know. But...what do you want me to say to her? It's not easy." Luc sighed.

"Yeah, well, you have to tell her, don't you think?"

"But I don't want to hurt her. She doesn't deserve it."

"You have to do it now that you're in time, before you do something you'll regret and all of you get hurt."

"Something I'll regret? Like what?"

"Like your arguments getting really nasty or cheating on her."

"That is too nasty, Warren! I am a man of a single woman!" Luc frowned.

"I know, but it could happen. After all, you French are known for..."

Luc looked away.

"I...I guess you are right. About being clear to Sylvia before this gets out of hand and we end up in court."

"Of course."

There was a long pause.

"Did you check the forest?" Warren asked.

"Yes, and apart from a few rabbits, we found nothing."

Pip felt he couldn't breathe, no matter how hard he tried. He was terrified and confused. Izzy was mad and tried to hurt him for no reason! But he wouldn't find him there, right? He hoped not.

He slowly calmed down and started to think logically. It took him a long while but he managed to come to a few conclusions. First: he made a big mistake running away. He had come across the sheriff and a policeman, he could have explained the situation to them, they would have taken care of everything; he was so close to his own home, where his parents were, and yet he ran away, to the woods, no less, with the beasts. That was stupid; but he supposed that even the smartest man on Earth made stupid things when he was scared, and he was very scared. Second: he had to tell Mrs. Hart. She had never mentioned to him that Izzy suffered a mental illness, probably she didn't know, so he had to warn her. Izzy would never hurt his grandmother, would he? Oh, he didn't even know what to think!

A branch broke and made Pip jump. Something was walking towards him. After a second in which he trembled because he didn't know what to do or where to go, he decided to hide among some bushes. They scratched his skin and the posture was extremely uncomfortable, but he was almost sure no one would notice him.

The very first moment he saw it, Pip thought it was a bear, or, as absurd as it was, a gorilla. But a ray of moonlight furtively escaping the tyranny of the clouds revealed, under a mane and dark, old clothes, a human face. It was no animal, but a man. Something difficult to tell, seeing how the man sniffed around and grunted with drool falling from his mouth at any sound he made. Scared, Pip held his breath and waited anxiously for that...person to leave.

Then, the man-animal cocked his head all of a sudden and breathed loudly through his mouth, listening. Pip heard nothing at all, but someone approached, that was for sure.

"Look, it's the Devil!" A high pitched voice said

Billy grunted at the newcomer like a beast.

"Don't you even think about it." A second voice, as peculiar as the first, threatened him.

Billy's eyes noticed something. Pip didn't know what it was from the position he was in and he didn't consider it was a good idea to move to find out. Whatever it was, it had to be intimidating, because Billy grunted again but softer, with frustration, and didn't move.

"Yeah, you ain't that stupid after all."

They sounded like two children...

"He's acting like himself...The spell is weakening..."

"Gee...This is bad..."

Billy was indeed quite a sight and those two people approached to watch him closer.

They were quite short. Perhaps they were children indeed. But looking closely...

Pip's lips parted and for a second he wondered if he was dreaming. He would have probably believed he was at home, in his bed, if it wasn't for the bush scratching him.

The creatures which appeared before him were two-dimensional, deprived from all color, and only one of them was a human—the other was a cat who wore overalls and a bowler hat and stood on two legs like a person.

He knew their names. That was probably the most freaky part.

They were Beans and Buddy. The classic cartoon characters he had grown up watching.

It was so strange that even Billy stopped grunting and approached to smell them. Did he get any scent from them?

"If he's back to his old habits, probably the rest of the town..." Buddy, the human boy, muttered.

"Okay, okay, Buddy, hear me out. Calm down. He was crazy before. It's alright. This means nothing." His feline partner replied.

Buddy seemed really nervous. He visibly cringed at the sight of Billy.

"It's like what happened with Marvin the Martian. They will think he's just crazy and ignore him." Beans continued, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"But...The Martian...Daffy Duck and the Bunny listened to him...They even went to his place."

"We should have known this could happen, yes. After all, he's one of the few villains who were given a brain...But it's all solved. He's not a toon anymore. He lost his stamina. He'll not survive the dynamite. It's just a matter of time he...And when he's gone, everything will be alright again. All the others will forget what he said, and no one will ask this one. They will have more important things to think about, will return to their routine and fall into delusion again..."

Billy got so uncomfortably close to Beans' tail that he slapped him and the man yelped first and then roared, but he didn't dare to pounce on him.

"Yes...You're right..." Buddy didn't seem very convinced, though. "But Beans, I wish we didn't have to use dynamite on him. It's not funny when there's blood and limbs flying in pieces...Wasn't there any way to keep the secret without killing anybody?"

Beans sighed. "What did I tell you, Buddy, ol' pal?"

"Not to think about it..." Buddy replied with a bit of shame.

"That's right. We did what we had to do."

"We did what we had to do..." Buddy repeated slowly, like a mantra he wanted to remember.

"Nobody will miss him anyway. A madman who thinks he's an alien, a villain—either way, the people will be glad he's gone."

They didn't mind Billy anymore. Not even Pip, who was listening with attention to all the insane things he was hearing—Martians, toons...murder! So when he heard a small grunt along with a warm, stinky breath on the back of his neck, the child couldn't repress a scream and jumped out of the bush, away from him.

"Who's there?" Buddy shouted.

Their eyes met for a moment. This brief instant was enough for the boy to feel his whole body shake in fear. However, Pip didn't waste a single second. He started running and didn't dare to look back. He ran as fast as he could.

"He saw us!" Beans grabbed Buddy's arm and shook it. "We have to get him! We can't let him go!"

They were so light, so ethereal they didn't make any noise as they ran, but Pip knew they were chasing him.

Billy saw the cartoons run and stood there for a moment, indecisive, before quickly following them.

Isadore slowly got up from the floor and touched his nose. It was swollen, it hurt a lot, so much it made him shed some tears. It was probably broken. He saw the blood on his hand and grunted. But he didn't stop to do something about the bleeding or rest his head. He stumbled out of the garden, into the street, and looked for the child, with the urgent, clear and obsessing intention of inflicting him as much pain as possible.

It took Kath a long while to speak.

"I don't know you, but I am getting really scared..." She said to her partner.

"Yes, I am scared too, because you know what that means? That the explosion might be the way someone made sure whatever is going on here remains a secret..." Sheldon said.

"But what is it, and why is it as important as to have him killed?"

"I don't know. But it has to be big. I haven't felt this way in my entire life..."

"Help! Oh, please, help me!"

Kath and Sheldon stopped to look at a child who was running towards them. He looked so red and his skin and hair were covered in sweat, his clothes were stained with a bit of dirt, and his voice, just like his body, trembled. Kath welcomed him in her arms.

"Hey, what's wrong, little one? What's the matter?"

The boy tried to speak but the stuttering made it really difficult. He tried really hard to translate the incredible things he had seen into words.

And as he spoke, the two toons approached.

"Look! It's the duck! And Bugs' girlfriend! They..."

"Huh?" Sheldon turned his head towards the source of the noise. Two small figures were approaching. He couldn't tell what they were...

Impossible...

"What is...?"

Pip suddenly screamed.

"THERE THEY ARE!"

Beans and Buddy didn't need to talk: they knew the couple had seen them too and would have to do something about it...

"RUN!" Pip cried, pulling Kath.

The young lady was so shocked about what she was seeing that she didn't react immediately. But seeing the terror in Pip's eyes and voice, she quickly followed him. "Sheldon!"

They had always seemed like friendly fellows on the screen, but their intentions were not good at all, they understood it immediately.

It was them! Beans and Buddy, the cartoon characters! It was so fascinating Sheldon turned his head to watch. They were so fast! They were light like the wind. As much as they tried, they couldn't get rid of them.

One of them, the little boy, stopped to hide his hands behind his back—no, he was grabbing something! He had taken a bow and arrow from that empty space behind him!

"Look out!" Sheldon exclaimed. Just in time to hear a swissssh! and the arrow grazed Kath's arm, making her let out an exclamation of pain and surprise.

It seemed they had an unlimited supply in nowhere, because they only had to put their hands inside their pockets or behind their backs to grab the most varied projectiles: a chainsaw, a clucking chicken, a bowling ball, an Indian hatchet...

"What are those things?! What do they want from us?!" Kath yelled, feeling the blade of a scimitar cutting a few of her hairs.

The woman—according to the flyers, Madame Indigo—, had her eyes so squinted as she inspected every inch of Joey's palm that he doubted she could see a thing.

"There is something definitely blocking your energy...But love is going fine. I see your partner loves you dearly..." She finally said.

"I-I am single..." Joey muttered.

That didn't seem to bother Madame Indigo. "And the line of fortune is enviable. Your father's spirit is giving you much strength from the higher level..."

"But my-my-my father is still alive. He's in Mia-Mia-Miami, getting tanned at the beach..."

"Are you sure about that?" Madame Indigo squinted even more, and managed to make Joey very, very uneasy. She continued with her reading. "Ah! There I see it! A backstab from someone very close to you! A friend, a person from your past, with whom you shared many experiences. I can't guarantee a painless future, my dear, but after the pain will come the bliss..."

She charged $25 for that, and she didn't even tell him anything useful. So Joey gave up and, feeling defeated and even worse than how he got into the room, decided to look for José.

There was a small Mexican community in Warner Falls and since the owner of the bar was a Mexican, it had become a kind of gathering point for the immigrant population.

"¡No mames, si es el gordito! ¡Órale, Manuel, acércate a pedirle que te compre una cosechadora nueva!" One of them said, and Joey, who didn't understand Spanish, felt so intimidated he thought of turning back and run away. He would have done so if it wasn't for a familiar voice calling him.

"Señor Joey! Hello!" José stopped him, bottle of beer in hand. "What? Here for a drink before going to sleep?"

"Yes...I mean no...I mean..."

"Gee, are you okay, boss? You look nervous..."

"I...Uh..."

"¿Es este otro amigo de tu hermana, José?" Another client exclaimed, this time directed at José, who blushed out of anger and faced him.

"¡Cierra la boca antes de que te la cierre yo, pendejo! This is no place for confidences...Come, let's go for a walk. Something tells me alcohol won't help in this situation..." José said, and, trying to make Joey ignore his fellows laughing at them, he left the place with him.

"I-I'm seriously thinking of leaving the mayoralty..." Joey confessed once they were left alone.

"Oh, please, don't say that. You are a good mayor. Your term has just started." José replied.

"But look at me! The first cri-cri-cri-cri-crisis and I get so anxious I start ac-acting like a...I mean, talking li-li-li...You see? I'm back to my old hab-habits! I can't do this..."

"You can't give up, Joe. No one said this would be easy. Why do you think all politicians have whiter hair at the end of their terms? I told you you just need to take it easy."

"I-I can't take it easy! I have this feeling inside, th-this anxiousness, this...I-I don't know what it is, but I can't get r-rid of it, here or New York or h-here. I need to stay in an ho-hospital and get rid of it. This has to be psy-psy-psy..."

"You're not sick. Believe me. If you want to go see a therapist, okay, but give yourself credit: you are not mad."

"My mother's ri-right: I can't do anything r-right and I'm just a ball of gr-grease..."

"Don't listen to your mother. Forget about her. Listen to me, okay?"

Oh, dear, how would he raise his spirits? He was so bummed out...Maybe he did need a shot of tequila or two at the bar...José thought and thought. He was thinking when a choir of screams approaching distracted him from an idea he was conceiving. The two men stopped to find three people, a man, a woman and a child running in the streets and screaming.

"Look out!"

Something was chasing them. For a second Joey thought one of them was a monkey. Monkeys in Warner Falls? That was absurd. But then the light of a lamppost revealed what was making that group run. And he couldn't even define what he saw.

"What the...?" The mayor muttered, his jaw dropping.

"HEEELP!" Sheldon screamed. He had scratches in his skin; they surely had been fighting and him and his partners were losing.

They were approaching, something had to be done. Joey was too shocked to move. Luckily, José's brain was fast. They were near a closed garage, but someone had left some cans outside. José grabbed one of them and threw it to the creatures.

He missed, but the liquid it contained splashed them. Suddenly, the two toons stopped screaming and turned around to disappear like shadows in the night.

"What on earth was that?!" José exclaimed, looking at the group.

They were too busy catching their breath to reply, but even then, Kath was surprised and relieved to find herself in the presence of mayor Joe Bailey himself. That should make things easier.

"L-L-Let's go to my house. I don't think we shou-should talk here..." Joey proposed, looking around like expecting those things to pounce on them. But before leaving he could not resist the curiosity and grabbed the can José had thrown: paint dissolvent.