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Richard was furious. Alan had lied to him. The next time he saw Alan, he knew he’d kill him. Wait. Richard stopped and analyzed that last thought. It wasn’t his. IT was roaming more freely now, pulling against ITs weakening chains and trying to assert control. Richard’s momentary lapse into anger gave IT just what
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Richard’s mind was in turmoil. He wanted to find Cari to kill her for what she’d done to his wife. John wanted to find her to be reunited with his lover. IT wanted to find ITs master and share the fruits of ITs labor. That was the hardest part for Richard to reconcile. He knew
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Roberts looked at his friend in shock. Questions about the astral plane meant he was stumbling down the bramble-ridden path of the occult. Still, coming from Alan it must be important. “I know enough to not get involved, but since you’re the one asking, I guess we can head down that road a little bit.”
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“I know you know something, I just don’t know how I know that.” “Yeah, like that’s not confusing,” Richard replied. Alan had obviously figured things out. He’d been hinting at an interrogation for weeks now, and Richard had been doing everything possible to avoid it – which only made Alan more suspicious. Now he’d finally
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Richard was troubled. He’d fallen into a dark place and, like a child stranded at the bottom of a well, knew not how to save himself. He clawed in vain at the walls of his prison and wept openly when he realized how utterly lost and desolate he was. Until moments ago, his soul had
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IT wandered aimlessly down an alley, akin with the darkness and aimless in ITs tasks for the night. IT still didn’t fully understand not just what had happened, but what IT was at all. IT remembered standing above the one that had killed ITs wife, waiting to taste the sweet nectar of vengeance. Yet IT
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Alan had more evidence than anyone had ever had in one of these cases. The forensics were astounding! They proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the victim was in fact Mary Drake. They were also able to match fingerprints found on the scene with the fingerprints taken from Rick’s wine glasses. The best
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Richard went home and sat in his living room. It was only 6 o’clock, but he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. He thought for a minute about turning on the TV. He almost made it as far as to pick up the remote, but deep down he didn’t want to watch specials
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IV Richard ignored the alarm clock and laid, staring at the ceiling. His eyes bored a hole that was filled in with static if he stared too long without blinking. He’d wink his eyes and re-wet the lens, then stare again for a few minutes or so. To his disappointment, though, this was a staring
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I The wispy tendrils of someone else’s thoughts pulled at the edge of Richard’s thoughts. He could feel someone or something there, just beyond, but he couldn’t quite see them. They were hiding in the shadows, yet beckoning his consciousness to venture forth and join them. It was an ominous feeling, to have such a