Chapter 1: Remains of a Zombie Horde - By Amedeus
Chapter 2: Let Me Be Frank(ie?) - By Wizardmon5
Chapter 3: Revelations - By Leus
Chapter 4: The Laundromat - By Amedeus
Chapter 5: Deadline - By Leus
Chapter 6: Beyond the Door - By Amedeus
Chapter 7: Identity Crisis - By Leus
Chapter 8: Double-Cross and Failure - By Amedeus
Chapter 9: Open Heart - By Leus
Chapter 10: Into the Deep Blue - By Amedeus
Chapter 11: Reunion - By Leus
Chapter 12: Tainted Meat - By Amedeus
Chapter 13: Turned Tables - By Leus
Chapter 14: Dark Foreshadows - By Amedeus
Chapter 15: Roads Less Traveled - By Leus
Chapter 16: Staring at the Sun - By Amedeus
Chapter 17: Truth or Justice - By Leus
Chapter 18: History Lesson - By Amedeus
Chapter 19: The Lives We Could Have Led - By Amedeus

            Kevin stepped into his home. It had been so long since he’d seen the place. Well, he’d only been gone a few days, but for him it was longer. Long story.
            He lifted his broadsword, and sliced clean through the center of a zombie that had remained after the attack.
            Again, long story.
            He swiped at a few more. They fell in pieces. Although, still alive. As we all know, zombies only die when the head is removed, the brain is destroyed, or when they completely burn up. Kevin decided to take a break before dealing with that, though.
            He headed into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. Turkey and ham and a ton of mayonnaise, just like mom used to make. He returned to the living room and sat down. While he ate his sandwich, he slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

             Sometime later, Kevin awoke to the sound of moaning. Not his, the undead. Gathering all the pieces of living corpse he could, he wandered out to the backyard. He set up some stones in a circle, and combined some sticks and lighter fluid together in the middle, then threw the undead pile in, pulled out his trusted, lucky lighter and set the pile ablaze.
            Minutes later in his room, Kevin heard a knocking from inside the closet. He crept up to it, as slowly as he could. He tore open the door, ripping it clean off its hinges. From inside the closet lept an evil, mutant clown, hellbent on revenge for an incident two years earlier at Buckingham Palace.
            Kevin seized a nearby lamp, and brought it down upon the clown’s head, catching the clown off guard and effectively knocking him unconscious. He looked around the room. He had to think quick - evil, mutant clowns don’t stay outcold for long.
            He busted open his trusty emergency baseball bat case, and relieved it of its contents (a baseball bat). With a roar, he brought the bat down upon the clown just as it was coming to. This time, however, it was ready. The clown fell, but it wasn’t finished, yet. After all, it was a clown, and clowns are always loaded down with tricks. The clown’s blood-red nose opened, and his mutant tentacle sprang forth. It wrapped itself around poor Kevin’s head, and squeezed much like a rattlesnake squeezes a mouse. Or, in this case, a fully-grown man.
            After pounding on the Clown’s head repeatedly for a full ten minutes, it became clear that it wasn’t going to let go without a fight. Or a blowtorch. Which Kevin keeps in his closet in case he has to light a lot of cigarettes at once, and his trusted, lucky lighter is out of fluid (not likely, as he always keeps two bottles with him, just in case). He thrusted the blowtorch in the clown’s mouth, and pulled the trigger. Suddenly... nothing happened.
            “Damn!” Kevin exclaimed.
            The clown had coated its interior down with flame-retardant chemicals! And without knowing which one, Kevin couldn’t fight it. There was only one thing he could do. And so he did it.
            He pulled out his left bottle of lighter fluid, and with a mighty squeeze that could crush a bull emptied the remaining contents upon his foe. He then emptied the remaining contents of the blowtorch upon it, as well. This second part took roughly an hour to complete, but then, evil, mutant clowns are nothing to screw with.
            Kevin picked up the charred, flaming remains, and tossed them out the window. He could pick the shards of glass out of the yard in the morning. For now, he needed sleep. And so, his day complete, he slept.

* * *

            He awoke several hours later to the smell of smoke. Kevin climbed out of bed and looked out the window.
            “Ah, the clown just landed in Mrs. Robinson’s Azalea bushes,” he thought aloud. She was always a bitch.
            “No. Wait. That smells too close to be her yard. It must be... Gasp! It’s my yard!”
            And it was. His yard was up in flames. That’ll teach me to be lazy with the bonfire rocks, he thought as he ran downstairs.
            The good thing about having a fire in your backyard is that, if you’ve paid your water bill, there’s a good chance of there being a hose nearby. This was not the case today, as Kevin would soon find out.
            “Where’s my hose?” Kevin wondered aloud, again.
           There was no time to look for one. He would have to make do with what he had: A lighter, a full bottle of lighter fluid, an empty one, and one book of matches. As the old saying goes, “Fight fire with fire”. Kevin lit a match and tossed it into the blaze. No luck, the raging inferno continued to rage. After a quick Bee Gees joke, Kevin began to realize that something here was totally and completely wrong. Besides the fact that his yard was on fire, of course.
            “These aren’t my matches!” he exclaimed, “In fact, I’ve never even owned a match, let alone several! Where did these come from? Who am I talking to?”
            Of course, these questions would soon be answered, because his best friend, Frank, had arrived to eat his food again, and Frank always knew these things. Always.
            “Hey buddy, what’s - ooh, bon fire gone mad! Dibs on the hot dogs!”
            “Damn you, Frank, you stay away from my hot dogs! Why do I have matches?”
            “Hey, beats me. You got any marshmallows?”
            “Don’t you dare touch my marshmallows, you lying bastard! I know you know! You always know! Now tell me what you know!”
            “Gee, Kev, I don’t know. Honest. Is there a name on them?”
            Kevin turned over the pack of matches, and saw nothing. He turned back to the other side, and there it was: A name. In marker - the deepest shade of blue known to man.
            “The Blue Phantom,” Kevin read.
            “What is that, some kinda club?”
            “I think it’s a name.”
            “Ooh, is it a woman’s?”
            “How would I know?”
            “Smell it! Women always leave perfume on things they sign.”
            He raised the pack and breathed deeply. After he regained his balance and coughed out a bit of smoke, he turned back to Frank.
            “Nothing. Not even the smell of... whatever matches are made of. They’re completely odorless. Just like a phantom.”
            “That is weird. Say, you want some help putting out that fire?”
            “No, I think I can handle it.”
            “Alright. Suit yourself. I’m going home.”
            “Wait, Frank! What did you come over here for?”
            “Oh, that’s right. I wanted to know if you were done with my powerhose.”
            “Powerhose...”
            Then it hit him. He had, in fact borrowed a powerhose from Frank not two weeks ago. Well, it had been longer for him. But that’s another story.
            Moments later, the powerhose and its accompanying generator were sprawled across what remained of the yard. Frank gave a tug on the line to start it up, and cranked it to full power. Kevin took hold of the nozzle, and let it blast clean into the heart of the fire.
            Mere hours later, the fire was gone, and a small portion of Kevin’s yard was saved. Mrs. Robinson, on the other hand, was doing very poorly. That’s what she gets for being on vacation when her lawn’s on fire, Kevin thought. He wiped some sweat off his brow, and went inside for a drink.
            He made himself an odd combination of whiskey, rum, Sunny Delight, two Oreos, three scoops of rocky road, and just a hint of lighter fluid to give it that kick. The concoction overflowed onto the counter, but the dog would get that as soon as he bought one. He downed the entire glass in ten seconds flat. Feeling very proud of this feat, Kevin decided a victory nap was in order.
            He returned to his living room and collapsed on his favorite sofa. The moment he hit the pillow, he was out-cold. He wasn’t asleep for five minutes when there came a knock at the door. Kevin lept out of his comfortable position and stopped, silent.
            He waited, and listened.
            Then the knock came again.
            Kevin inched towards the door. He could feel the hairs on his back stand up. In any other case, he would have made a bad joke about feeling like an angry cat or some such garbage. But not now. Somebody wanted him. Dead or alive. Although he didn’t know which.
            Again, the knock emanated from the door.
            Closer, and closer, he drew himself to the door. He stopped just in front of it and waited again. And once again, he heard a knock.
            He was breathing heavily. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and dripped on the carpet, mixing with the blood that would no doubt make the entire house reek of dead flesh for weeks to come. He fought off the urge to give up on the door and go get a few aerosol cans.
            Slowly, he reached for the knob. He heard the knocking again, more insistant and aggravated this time. He found the knob, and gripped it tightly, his heart beating heavily through his chest. Another minute, and it would fall clean out. He picked up his pocket knife off the nearby table.
            Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned the knob.

Chapter Two
Let Me Be Frank(ie?)

By Wizardmon5

            “Howdy, mister! I’m a traveling salesman, and I’d like to give you some free aerosol cans! They get the stench of dead flesh out of your house instantly! So, interested?” These were the words the man at the door said.
            Or, they would have been, had Kevin not flung the door open and jabbed the man in the ribs, relieving him of his current air supply. Not to mention a good bit of his will to live.
            If only I had known it was a salesman… I could’ve hit him harder, thought Kevin.
            You see, most people have hidden passions. Be it fat girls, men, or, if you’re lucky, garden hoses. Kevin’s was causing harm to salesmen. This stemmed from a certain event in his childhood in which a salesman accidentally stepped on his toe. It caused Kevin great pain, and he vowed to seek vengeance on any and all salesmen he would ever see. It began that day, for Kevin was a burly man. And burly men start out as burly children. So, when that salesman stepped on poor Kevin’s toe, Kevin grabbed him by the neck and threw him over the neighbors’ house.
            Kevin closed his front door, leaving the salesman gasping for air on the porch. Returning to the living room, Kevin sat on the couch once more. Man. I wish I had some kind of ray. Like. An anti-monkey ray. Or maybe a kill-everybody ray. That would be so sweet. But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard another knock at the door. Damn. That door is going crazy today. I’m going to have to get it looked at.
            Once again, Kevin stood up and cautiously treaded the path back to the door. His forehead as glisteny with sweat as ever, he grabbed the doorknob. Flinging the door open and readying his patented Salesman Punch, he met with a punch in the face, himself. Stumbling backward, he reached toward his back for his sword… Which he had, unfortunately, left somewhere, leaving him at the mercy of whoever was at the door.
            “Ha ha ha, you stupid bastard, how are ya?!”
            Kevin knew that voice. He looked up, and saw Frankie Margarine, whom he had not seen in fifteen years!
            “Frankie! Where the hell have you been, man?!”
            “Pour me a beer and I’ll tell ya’.”
            With that, Frankie Margarine and Kevin Epstein went back into Kevin’s house, ignoring the dead salesman on the front porch.

* * *

             “And… GO!” Kevin shouted, and the two of them started guzzling beer out of gigantic mugs. They continued chugging for several seconds, and Kevin slapped his hand on the coffee table, shattering it, jumped up off the couch, and shouted, “DONE! I AM STILL THE KING!”
            Frankie couldn’t be bothered at that moment, and continued chugging until his was gone. He wasn’t far behind, so it was only a couple seconds. He finished, set his mug down on the table, and stood up, slapping Kevin on the back. “Ha ha ha. You may have won the contest, but I got a free mug of beer anyway. What did you get?”
            “You. Are a bastard.”
            “Yeah, I get that a lot. Anyway, what’s on TV?” Frankie asked, sitting back down on the couch.
            “I thought the idea, here, was that you were going to tell me where you have been for the past… What, 15 years? That’s kind of a long time to disappear,” said Kevin, sitting in a nearby recliner.
            “Oh, right that… Well, y’see, it’s kind of a complicated tale. It started when these cowboys kidnapped my parents. That one time I told you I was going to the store? I was actually going to find them. I mean, cowboys are chumps compared to guys like you and me, right? Well, little did I know that they-“ he was suddenly cut off by a crashing sound coming from the kitchen.
            “…Bring someone with you?” Kevin asked hopefully.
            “Not me.”
            Kevin sighed and stood up, grabbing his broadsword from under the newly-demolished coffee table. “Wait here,” he told Frankie as he slowly crept over to the kitchen. When he got to the last turn, he put his back against the wall, listening. It was perfectly quiet, until there was another crashing sound. That was all Kevin needed, and he leapt around the corner, bringing his sword down in a chopping motion, “STATE YOUR BUSINESS HERE,” he screamed… And then actually looked ahead of him, and saw Frank standing there, holding two halves of a cantaloupe, and wearing an unsurprised face.
            “Hey, thanks, man,” Frank said, holding up the cantaloupe. “I was looking for your knives to cut this thing, but I guess that works too,” he explained, taking a bite of one half, holding the other out to Kevin.
            “Jesus, man. I would’ve cut you in half if you’d been standing a foot closer to me.”
            “As if I’m not used to that. Anyway, were you talking to somebody out there?”
            “Oh, yeah, right! Come out here, I’ll introduce you.”
            Kevin led Frank out to the living room, where Frankie was still sitting on the couch, but was now flipping through the channels on the TV.
            “Frankie, this is Frank… Damn, I hope this doesn’t get confusing.”
            “Hey, Frankie. Cantaloupe?” Frank inquired, holding out his half-eaten melon.
            “No thanks, pal. Wouldn’t happen to have a steak on you, would’ja?”
            “Hah, unlikely. Any meat I get is consumed pretty near immediately.”
            Frankie laughed and turned to Kevin. “Damn, Kev, I like this guy. Why didn’t you introduce us sooner?”
            “Um. Because you were gone for 15 years?”
            “Oh. That. Damn.”
            “Whoah, 15 years? Where were ya, bud?” Frank asked.
            “I was actually telling Kevin before you came in.”

* * *

             “…So, I went off to find my parents. Unfortunately, the cowboys-“ Frankie was cut off by Kevin.
            “COWBOYS? HOLY HELL, THE FOOTBALL GAME IS ON! This will have to wait until later, Frank!”
            Frank turned his head, “What?”
            “Oh, no, I meant… Like, an abbreviation of Frankie. Not like you, Frank.”
            “Way to go.”
            “Shut up.”
            And, with that, Kevin turned on the football game. The Cowboys were already up 14 points, the score being 14 – 0. Fortunately they were Kevin’s team. Kevin had been known to slay football teams that beat the Cowboys. Luckily, that only happened rarely.
            Kevin sat, intently watching the game. Frankie sat less intently, but more-or-less focused. Being lost somewhere for 15 years, he had lost a bit of his interest in the comforts of home.
            Frank was just sitting there, gnawing on some ribs. He loved ribs with his entire being. Well, aside from his heart and major arteries.

Chapter Three
Revelations

By Leus

            It was about an hour into the game. The men had all gradually migrated to the center of the couch, and now sat comfortably on each other's laps. Suddenly, Frankie stood up and held out a finger as if he'd come to an important realization.
            "Wait!  Wait, I've got one!" he exclaimed and ran to the door, opening it in a giddy fashion.  He pointed to the body on the front porch, the face of whom still portrayed stark terror at the prospect of his impending death.
            "Look, Kevin.  What's DUSTIN HOFFMAN doing on your porch?!" Frankie blurted out in a sarcastically inquisitive manner.
            There was a pause.
            "Oh, I get it.  Death of a Salesman.  Hehe," Kevin said after a minute.  Frankie broke out in hysterical laughter, slapping his knee.  Kevin and Frank continued to chuckle as well.  Nobody noticed when Frankie's raucous laughter suddenly became horrified, blood-curdling screaming.
            Finally, after a few minutes, Kevin noticed that Frankie was on the ground and his left leg was missing.  Crouching next to the bleeding and screaming man was a creature that appeared to be a salesman, gnawing nonchalantly on Frankie's disconnected inner thigh.
            "Oh, hell," Kevin said, thinking fast.
            "What?" asked Frank.
            "Dude, get up for a sec," Kevin requested, pushing gently on Frank's back to indicate that somewhat hasty action was in order.  Frank stood up and allowed Kevin to move, which he did quickly thereafter.  He jumped straight up and punched a hole through his ceiling with his fist.  When he withdrew his arm he held a loaded, sawed-off 12-gauge in his right hand.  Cocking the weapon, he pointed it at the salesman's head and fired.  Blood and brains splattered his freshly-painted green porch railing.
            By this point all the laughter had stopped.  Frankie lay on the floor, softly wimpering, drifting in and out of consciousness.
            "Sorry, buddy, but you know how it goes with zombie bites," Kevin said to the nearly-comatose man, regret throttling his tone.  He re-loaded the shotgun and readied the weapon, taking aim at Frankie's head.  Emitting a final sigh, he pulled the trigger, and his old friend's guts and bone littered his carpet.
            Frank looked sad.
            "I guess when I made my way back here I brought some evil with me.  The air must be contaminated.  Anyone who dies here will ultimately turn into a zombie as well.  I'm just lucky he made it back in time to inadvertently remind me of the Cowboys game," Kevin exposed.
            "Damn," Frank said, reflecting on the information.  "If I die now I'm screwed!  Thanks a LOT, man," he snapped with harsh sarcasm.
            "Hey, man, don't blame me, I was lucky to get back here alive," Kevin replied.
            "Well maybe you just should've stayed where you were!  Now you've put the whole town and possibly the whole CITY at risk," Frank shot back.
            Kevin frowned.  All this time he'd been considering himself to be the closest thing to a superhero on the face of the planet, but was he really fighting for the good of mankind, or just for his own survival?
            Kevin sat down and buried his face in his hands.  Frank stormed out the door and slammed it behind him, after first kicking the corpse of Frankie out of the way, of course.
            The football game continued on the television.  Kevin didn't even care anymore.

Chapter Four
The Laundromat

By Amedeus

            Kevin, feeling very depressed about his current predicament, decided to take a walk. And walk he did. First, down the street. Then, around the neighborhood. And so on and so forth, until he found himself completely lost on the bad side of town.
            Almost as if in response to his moping, the sky quickly became covered in clouds and began dumping rain on him. As well as everything surrounding him. The rain was odd like that. It never seemed to center over one spot - it was always a huge area. As Kevin thought about this, he began to lose touch with the world around him. Soon enough, he wandered out across an intersection without realizing it.
            Somewhere around him came a crash, but he never heard it. He was deep within his own thoughts about how you never see a small fog cloud just hovering over a single person.
            He also failed to come to after a woman’s scream filled the air and an ambulance blared its sirens while careening down the road past him. He didn’t even seem to notice the leveling of an entire city block, only a few hundred feet behind him.
            Even if he had heard, he wouldn’t have cared. Nothing could bring him out of this state right now. Nothing, except... 

* * * 

            He turned on his windshield wipers. The rain was picking up, and he only had about ten minutes to get to his destination, do his thing, and meet up with this guy before the whole deal blew up in his face. He didn’t have time for anything to go wrong.
            Josh wasn’t sure why he took the job. Maybe he just needed the money. But was ten-thousand dollars really worth risking his neck, dealing with a known psychopath?
            Maybe it was. After all, if he played it cool and did what he was told, he’d have enough money to buy a nice house on the beach on some tropical island. Which, in turn, caused him to worry about this job again. Why was the pay so good? Was he, maybe, the only person dumb enough to go through with this?
            He pushed these thoughts aside, and reminded himself that there was no turning back, now. So it really didn’t matter if it was worth it or not, at this point. He took the job, and if he screwed it up in any way, he was a dead man.
            His thoughts were immediately interrupted as he came to the intersection. Some stupid guy had just wandered out in front of him!
            Josh tightened his grip on the wheel, and swerved around the man. Unfortunately, the rain had made the road very slick. His car slid sideways and hit a pothole, causing it to flip onto its side and slam into the Liquor Licker. He crawled out of the window and passed out in the middle of the street. Which was probably a very bad idea, because the moment he did, a car came flying down the road towards him. The last thing he heard before losing all consciousness was some woman screaming at him to get out of the way.
            He wouldn’t regain consciousness until an hour later in the hospital when an angry weasel would jump through his window and land on his bed. 

* * * 

            ...A fight! Kevin was pulled immediately out of his daze when he heard a commotion coming from a nearby building. He sped up and stopped in front of the laundromat it was coming from. Kevin looked in the window and saw an elderly Asian gentleman yelling at a very tall man, who just so happened to be pointing a shotgun at the gentleman’s face.
            There was no time to waste at all. Kevin held his arms in front of his face and dove through the glass. The tall man didn’t even have time to finish turning around before Kevin’s fist collided with his head.
            He dropped like a rock.
            “You know I have a door. You could have just used that.”
            “No, there’s no need to thank me, citizen. I’m just doing my duty.” Kevin enjoyed talking like a superhero whenever he just finished saving someone.
            “I only had ten dollars to steal. He could’ve just had it. Now it’s going to take at least a month to save up all the money to fix that.”
            “Ha ha, don’t worry. I don’t expect payment or anything.”
            “Excuse me, are you open?” asked a voice from somewhere near the remains of what used to protect the laundromat from the elements.
            “Yeah, I guess I am! It’s not like I can lock the GAPING HOLE IN MY HOME!”
            “Oh, you live here?” Kevin asked the gentleman.
            “Yeah. In the back. Not that it’s any of your business.”
            “Why don’t you live upstairs? There looks to be plenty of room up there.”
            “Well gee, you know, that’s a good idea. Maybe I could if I wasn’t renting it out just to make ends meet! Which is hard enough without people crashing through your window!” 

* * * 

            He was late. The meeting was set for 10 o’clock sharp, and it was 10:02, now. He’d been leniant enough. He’d teach them not to screw him over.
            He pressed the button.
            A moment later, in the distance, there came a huge, roaring explosion, followed by the rumbling of seven collapsing buildings. Tony would know better than to mess with Blind Pete again. He laid back down and started to find himself very tired. But just as he hit the pillow, he heard an argument break out downstairs. Pete sat himself back up and listened. It was a good one. Someone might even bleed soon.
            After a moment, he heard a large crash, like a window or some such glass object. Another moment passed, and it got strangely quiet, aside from the owner of the laundromat raising his voice every now and then. Pete stood up and decided it was time for him to go down and check out the aftermath. Shattering of glass, and sudden dead silence usually mean something very... good happened...
            Unfortunately, Pete is very clumsy. Mostly due to his blindness. Most blind people learn to get along without their sight, and some even hone their other senses so well that they can see better than people with fully-working eyes.
            Pete failed miserably at this.
            He was sent tumbling down the stairs and landed, sprawling, at the bottom.

Chapter Five
Deadline

By Leus

            Kevin and the Asian gentleman both shot a glance to the staircase as a blind and rather large man came rolling to a stop on the hardwood floor.  Grunting and grumbling, Pete got to his feet.  Kevin and the gentleman were silent.
            Pete paused.  The commotion had stopped.  He wasn't sure where he was or who was in the room with him.  "Hello?" he ventured.
            "Hey," said Kevin.
            Pete frowned.  "Is that you, 'bag-boy?'  I swear, Tony's lackies are severely...  Lacking...  Lately."
            "Oh, no," Kevin replied.  "My name is Kev--" he cut himself off.  This might be his chance.  His chance for true redemption.  He didn't know what was in store, but he would seal his fate with the next sentence to leave his mouth:
            "Yes, it's me.  ...Frank..." Kevin said, throwing out the first name that came into his mind.
            "I don't care what your name is, boy.  Now, did you kill those guys or what?" Pete inquired.  The Asian man donned a shocked expression and remained silent.  Kevin raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Asian man, and then looked back at Pete.
            "Uh...  No, sorry sir...  Not yet.  Where were they again?" Kevin asked, hoping to get inside information on this obvious criminal.
            Pete groaned.  "Jesus Christ, if it were up to me I'd end your pitiful existance right here and now.  I'm going to talk to Tony about this, and if the man still has any shred of his senses left, you'd best watch out," said Pete angrily.  Kevin gulped.
            There was a pause, and then Pete sighed.  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a torn slip of paper.  "Here's the address, numbnuts.  Leave no man inside alive," he ordered.  "I hope to god you've got your own weapon."
            Kevin hesitated, then quickly bent down and retrieved the fallen robber's shotgun.  He cocked it loudly and cinematically.  "Yes, sir," he responded.
            "Good, now go," Pete said.  "Get the job done, and then report to Tony and tell him his debt is forgiven."
            Kevin nodded, but then remembered that the man he was talking to was blind.  "Okay," said Kevin.  He then leaned over to the Asian gentleman, who was now petrified with fear.  "Don't worry," whispered Kevin.  "It'll be alright."
            "What'll be alright?" Pete replied.
            Kevin looked up.  "Uhh..  What?  Nothing.  Nothing will be alright..." he responded.
            Pete rolled his useless, grotesque eyeballs. 

* * *

            Josh woke up screaming.  He grabbed the angry weasel and broke its neck by instinct.  Attached to the weasel was a note.  "What the hell are you doing laying around, you lazy ass?  Get going!" it read.
            Josh nodded and got up, limping away.  It would be harder than ever to complete his job now, and he was late.  He didn't know what would happen, but he couldn't turn back.
            He arrived at the door of his destination:  Apartment 211 of the oldest complex in town.  He took a deep breath.  He was almost an hour late.  He patted his hips and found that his weapon was missing. The damn hospital must have confiscated it.  He gulped, now shaking with dread.  He didn't know what he was going to do, but he had no choice.  He counted to three and then kicked the door in, dashing into the room, gesticulating and roaring wildly. 

* * *

            Kevin strolled up to the front door of apartment 211.  He knocked on it and took a step back.  He watched the peep hole.  When it darkened Kevin roundhouse kicked the door in, causing it to slam into the face of the guy who stood behind it.  The man fell onto his back, blood streaking down the center of his face.  Kevin stepped over him and into the middle of the room.  Three shocked men holding poker cards and smoking cigarettes stared blankly at Kevin.
            Kevin cocked his shotgun again needlessly and blew a hole in one of the men.  The other two knocked over the table and withdrew handguns.  Kevin re-readied his weapon and blew a hole through the poker table, killing another man.
            "Shit," said the third man as he scrambled into another room.  Before pursuing him, Kevin turned and stomped on the bloodied man's throat.
            "Three down," Kevin said, loudly and ominously, knowing he'd struck fear into the heart of the remaining man.  He began a slow walk towards the bedroom the man had ducked into.  Each step he took was heavier than the last, and shortly he began to whistle a little tune.  He slung the shotgun over his shoulder and continued to saunter, growing closer to the door with each step... 

* * *

            Josh tripped over the body of a man within a second of entering the room.  He quickly got up and examined the scene.
            Near the door was a man lying on his back, his arms above his head.  His face was gashed down the center and dried blood coated the wound.  His throat was mangled and blue.
            Against the wall was slumped a second dead man, a hole directly through the center of his chest.  Blood caked the corners of his mouth.  His lifeless eyes stared eternally at the stained tiled floor.
            Josh took a few more steps into the room and leaned to examine the other side of an over-turned poker table with a hole blown in its plastic surface.  On the floor was a third man missing half of his head.  Clasped tightly in both his hands was a Beretta.  A frantic expression could barely be made out on what remained of the man's face.
            Josh's heart raced.  He panned the room again, wide-eyed, breathing rapidly.  Without thinking, he bent down and retrieved the fallen man's Beretta.  He then hesitated.
            "He-hello?" he stuttered.  There was no response.
            Josh quickly and clumsily stumbled out of the apartment.  The men he'd been sent to kill were already dead, but he wasn't sure if this was a blessing for him, or the mistake that would cost him his life at the hands of the Jewish mafia...

Chapter Six
Beyond the Door

By Amedeus

            As Josh got to the stairs, he heard a crash coming from the room he had just exited. He froze for a moment, and then slowly turned around. Whoever was in there was still alive. He couldn’t leave it that way, or he himself wouldn’t be alive for much longer. He crept back to the room and peered in the doorway. The room, aside from the bodies and general carnage, was empty.
            He breathed a sigh of relief which was cut short by another crash. It came from another room in the back of the apartment. He held the Beretta close and stalked up to the closed door, breathing loudly. He still had no idea what he was going to do, but wetting himself seemed to play heavily into every scenario he ran through his mind.
            He gripped the knob and shoved the door open and raised his gun, all in one clean motion. Inside he found two men, sitting on the edge of a bed... talking.
            “...You see, I made this joke about Disco Inferno earlier today, and I was beginning to wonder if the Bee Gees were even the ones who made that song.”
            The larger, more life-threatening of the two finished his story and turned towards the man who had just burst into the room, pointing a piece at his head.
            “Yes?” he inquired. Josh wasn’t sure how to answer. Of all the things he expected to find at the heart of this scene of death, two men having a nice chat was... well, it was nowhere near the top, that was for sure.
            “What are you... what- uh, who...” Josh had some trouble piecing a sentence together. The smaller man’s face lit up as he came to the realization of what was going on here.
            “Oh! You must be the guy who was supposed to kill us all. Yes?”
            “Uh... yes. Who, uh... who did all that? Out there. All that out there.”
            “Oh, that was me,” the larger man answered, quite calmly.
            “I see. Can I ask why?”
            “I don’t know. Do you have some sort of disorder that doesn’t allow you to ask things like that?”
            “Do what?”
            “Yes. Yes you may ask why.”
            “Why?”
            “Well, you never showed up, so your boss guy mistook me as you and here I am.”
            “Uh-huh... Say, shouldn’t you have killed this guy, too?”
            “Who, Phil? Nah, he’s cool. I mean, yeah, I was supposed to kill him, but once you get to know him he’s not all that bad a guy.”
            “Ah. Well, I guess that clears that all up. ...No, wait a second. I heard a crash in here a minute ago. Two of them!”
            “Yeah, the train tends to knock these mugs off the shelves every so often. Phil says they spend a fortune repairing them.”
            “...Huh.”
            “Yeah. Hey, can you do me a favor? When you go back to that blind guy, don’t tell him Phil’s still alive. Okay?”
            “Uh. Okay.”
            “Good man. Wow, lookit the time. I really should be going. Hey, give me a call sometime, man!”
            “Sure thing, bro,” Phil responded.
            And with that, the taller of the two men stood up and left Josh standing by the door, looking somewhat dazed and confused.

 * * * 

            Kevin exited the building, letting the door close behind him. He strolled off for a bit, letting his thoughts wander again. The rain had let up, and he could see the night sky clearly. The moon was full and, even though he was in the city, he could still see the stars perfectly. Kevin breathed in the crisp, cool Autumn air, and a smile crossed his face.
            “Give me your money or die, bitch!”
            The perfect night had been broken by a thug in an alley with too much spare time on his hands.
            “I SAID GIVE ME YOUR MONEY!”
            Kevin stopped and turned to the small-time crook. He had to have been in his early twenties. Maybe his late ‘teens, even. And he was holding a 9mm to Kevin’s chest.
            “Kid, get lost. I’ve had a long night, and I haven’t slept in over four or five hours now. I just want to get home.”
            “Well then, pass me your wallet, gramps, and you can be on your merry way!”
            “Gramps? I’m not that old. I’m not even old enough to be your dad. Well, okay, I don't know. I suppose technically, maybe, I could-”
            “Man, shut up! Damn! You see this gun? It’s loaded! And if I don’t have your money in ten seconds, I’m gonna UNload it! ...In you! To make you dead. And then I’ll take your stuff anyways. So... I guess it really doesn’t matter to me.”
            “If you were gonna shoot me, you’d have already done it, kid. Now put the gun away before you hurt yourself.”
            “Hey! I’m not afraid! I’ll shoot!”
            “Yeah, right, you’re real scary. You know what I think you should do? I think you should go home, go to bed, get up in the morning, and give up all your little Eddie Haskell mischievities. Mischievities... that’s a word, right?”
            “Who the hell is Eddie Haskell?”
            “Gee Wally, don't you know?” Kevin asked in as innocent a voice as possible.
            “What? Man, who’s Wally!? What the hell are you talking about!?”
            “You’ve never seen Leave it to Beaver?”
            “That TV Land shit? Man, you are old, gramps.”
            “I’m not old. I’m only 32 for Chrissakes.”
            “All this talkin’ is makin’ my head hurt! Just shut up and give me the money!”
            “God, this is going nowhere.” Kevin reached out and broke the kid’s arm, twisting the gun out of it as he did so. He pocketed the firearm and continued home.

Chapter Seven
Identity Crisis

By Leus

            "B-Blind Pete?" Josh stuttered after stepping into the room of the clumsy and sightless crimelord.  Blind Pete swiveled slowly and ominously in his office chair to face Josh.
            "People don't actually call me that to my face," Pete said, an undertone of anger in his voice.
            Josh gulped.  "S-sorry s-s-sir," he managed.
            "Th-th-th-that's all, folks!" Pete said.
            Josh paused.  "Are you just making fun of my stuttering or does that include the double meaning that you are also now going to kill me?" he inquired.
            "Nah, nah," Pete said, "Just the stuttering."  Josh sighed with relief.  "I'll decide if I'm going to kill you after you tell me who you are and why you're here making fun of my handicap."
            Josh's brow furrowed involuntarily.  A bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of his nose and dripped off at the tip.  He watched the small sphere of water fall slowly to the ground, and when it landed on the old wood floor and splattered into a million pieces, Josh couldn't help but feel that he was just a plummeting drop of sweat mere inches away from his own proverbial wood floor.
            "Well," he began.
            "Go on!" Pete urged impatiently.  "Spit it out!  I don't have all day!"
            "The job's done, sir," Josh stated firmly.  "The men in 211 are dead."
            "ALL of them?" Pete probed.
            "Yes, sir," Josh replied without hesitation.
            "Even Phil?" Pete asked.
            "ESPECIALLY Phil," Josh retorted.
            "Good," said Pete, cracking a slight smile.  Josh cautiously smiled as well.
            "That's not him," came a voice from the corner of the room. 

* * *

            Kevin's house was just around the next corner.  He was really looking forward to taking that nap.  Unfortunately for Kevin, it didn't look like he'd be getting to take it quite yet.
            As his house came into view, he saw a man briskly ascending the stairs to his front porch.  Kevin slowed his pace slightly and averted his gaze.  Through quick glances he kept the man in check.  The man knocked on Kevin's front door.
            There was a pause, then the door opened.  It was Frank.  His shirt was completely drenched in various sticky substances and was clinging to his unsightly body like a desperate stripper.
            The man on the porch looked Frank up and down and raised an eyebrow.  "Are you Frank?" the man inquired.
            "Yeah," Frank replied, taking a bite out of the giant slice of watermelon in his right hand.  Kevin was passing the staircase now, so he slowed his pace considerably.  The man's back was to Kevin now, so Kevin could afford to be less subtle in his casing of the man.
            His subtlety ceased to matter as the man punched Frank in the face.  Frank fell backwards into the house, dropping the half-eaten barbecue fried chicken he held in this left hand.  The man stepped inside and quickly closed the door behind him.
            Kevin's heart began to race.  He dashed up the steps and unnecessarily kicked the unlocked door open, breaking the door frame.
            When the door swung open, Frank was already stripped down to his underwear and lie bound and gagged on the floor.  The man from the porch knelt over Frank on one knee and was just pulling tight the final knot.  He looked up to Kevin.  In his teeth was clasped a foot-long dagger.
            Without thinking, Kevin kicked the man in the face.  The man toppled backwards and landed on his back, his hands sprawling above his head.  He quickly regrouped and stood up, the dagger still in his mouth, but deeper.  He reached up and, with a jerk, pulled the dagger from between his teeth.  It had cut through his cheeks at the sides of his mouth, and the slits began bleeding slowly down towards his chin.
            The last thing Kevin saw was the giant bloody smile of this stranger rapidly approaching. 

* * *

            Josh shot a glance towards the voice.  Sitting in a chair in the corner shrouded in shadows was a man.  He stood up and took a step forward.  As the light hit the man, Josh saw that he was an elderly Asian gentlemen.  The man came to a stop and stood straight-legged with his hands clasped behind his back and a stern look on his face.
            "Not who?" Pete asked confusedly.
            "Frank, the guy you sent off earlier," the Asian man replied.
            "What do you mean it's not him?" Pete inquired.
            Josh gulped again.  "I'm telling you!  It's not the same guy!" the Asian man insisted.
            "I have no time for this anyway," Pete said, pulling a gun and pointing it straight ahead.  Josh gaped in horror.
            BANG!! 

* * *

            For hours Kevin fought endless hordes of undead monstrosities in his mind.  When he was finally able to open his eyes again, he found that he was stripped and bound on the floor of his own livingroom.  He looked over to find an unconcious Frank in a similar situation.
            He looked around the room.  It was empty and still.  Their assailant was nowhere to be seen.  Until he walked through the front door a few seconds later.
            "Fvckn," Kevin attempted with a bandana tied around his head, obstructing his mouth.  He looked up at the man, who now appeared to have two pieces of gauze stuffed deep back into either slit in the corners of his mouth.  The man leaned forward and pulled the bandana from Kevin's mouth.  Kevin made a disgusted spitting sound.
            "You must be Kevin," the man said with a bit of a slurred lisp.  Kevin remained wordless.
            The man raised his eyebrows.  "I'll take your silence as confirmation," he said.
            'Damn,' Kevin thought.
            "I wanted to thank you, Kevin," the man said.  "Now I'll get a way better nickname than Pete has.  I can see it now...  Smilin' Tony!" 

* * *

            Pete had completely and entirely missed Josh, striking the old wood wall several feet to his right.  Josh raised an eyebrow, hesitated for a second, then fell to the ground with a thud.
            "Ah," said Pete, setting down his weapon.  He chuckled and clapped his hands together a few times in opposite vertical motions as if to dust something off.
            "You didn't get him," the Asian man said.
            "God DAMNIT!" Josh said, reaching behind him and grabbing the Beretta that was tucked in his belt.  He pulled it out, pointed it at the Asian man and snapped a shot off.  The Asian man yelled and dropped to one knee, clutching his arm across his chest.
            Pete quickly picked up his weapon and began to fire randomly around the office.  Josh scrambled on his hands and knees out the door.

Chapter Eight
Double-Cross and Failure

By Amedeus

            “Tony? What? Who are you?”
            “I… am Tony.”
            “We’ve established the Tony aspect of you. Who are you, in addition to that?”
            “I am the boss of the local crime syndicate, the Gambini Family Mob.”
            “Alright. And you’re in my house because…?”
            “I am here for your friend, Frank. You see, Frank was working for me. He was a mercenary. A gun-for-hire who happened to come into my service at just the right time. I sent him out to kill Blind Pete, the old optically-challenged former crime lord hiding out with the old Asian gentleman. When he got there, he learned of a plan by Pete to kill a group of my best men, hiding out in an apartment complex on the South side of town. So he told Pete he would do the job, in exchange for some information on the whereabouts of someone. An old friend, I believe. I don’t know. It’s not important.
            “What is important is that he turned out to have lied about his profession. In reality, he was a pacifist. He wouldn’t kill a man, ever. He pretended to be a hitman in the hopes of gaining some “critical intel”. He didn’t kill Pete. Instead he took the job and informed me of the plan, in hopes that by leaving Pete to think the men were taken care of, he could buy us enough time to relocate our men, thereby sparing more lives in his quest to end bloodshed due to some past trauma with his parents. I don’t know. I don’t delve into my… employees’ personal lives.
            “By the time we realized Frank hadn’t done his job, it was too late. He had already disappeared. I sent my men out to find him. It was tough, as we didn’t have a face to go by, only a name – we’d only ever spoke over the phone. But my men were the best, and they managed to track him back to this house.
            “At this time I realized that by sending another errand boy to do the job assigned to Frank, he could gain respect, and move up the ranks of Pete’s operation. Initially, I just wanted Pete dead. Then I began to see the big picture. I could gain intel on every single one of Pete’s men. I could have them all dead by month’s end. Pete, the old Asian gentleman, Alice, everyone. I merely had to sacrifice a few of my own lackies.
            “It was a very risky plan. I couldn’t send one of my own men in. Pete already knew all the people who worked for me. So I sent another no-name. Some kid off the street, by the name of Josh. Pete wouldn’t know the difference between him and Frank. He’s blind. And not a very skilled blind. More like a Venetian blind. He’s not too good at what he is. He doesn’t block out all the light, but you could still really mess a guy up with him.
            “I had Josh go to the apartment my men were hiding in and kill them. I called them and gave them my word that they were absolutely, 100% safe and could finally let their guard down and relax a little. It must have worked, because that Josh kid… he made very short work of them. My men tell me it was the biggest bloodbath they ever saw. Very gruesome. That kid’s very sick, but I’ll be damned if he’s not efficient. They couldn’t even find Phil’s body. Trust me, from what I’ve heard, it wasn’t pretty.
            “While Josh was no doubt on his way to collect his reward and make some headway into the inner workings of Blind Pete’s little zoo of criminals, I decided to come out here myself, to exact my revenge on Frank. Although his little tip and non-killing of Pete wound up causing a better pay-off for me in the end, he still double-crossed me. And no one – no one – double crosses… heh, “Smilin’ Tony”!”
            There was a moment’s silence, before Kevin finally spoke.
            “…Wow… That… was really confusing.”
            “Yeah, that was more for me than you. A lot happened today, so I was trying to sort it out in my head. It usually helps if I think aloud.”
            “Seriously, I think I might be bleeding. Like, in my head.”
            “Oh, well I wouldn’t worry about that. You see, you know all my plans now-“
            “-totally not my fault-“
            “-so I’m going to have to kill you. And once this bullet hits you, you won’t be so worried about what’s flowing in your head, as what’s flowing… out of your head…”
            Tony raised up his gun, aiming it straight at Kevin’s face. He pulled the trigger, and-
            “-Missed!?”
            “That’s right, Jack,” Kevin said from right behind him.
            “My name is Tony!”
            “Whatever.” And with that he headbutt Tony from behind, knocking him unconscious and sending him sprawling onto the floor. 

* * *

            Josh ran down the street, as he heard the old Asian gentleman scream in pain from one of Blind Pete’s stray bullets. He didn’t know where to run. He wished like never before – prayed like never before (literally, he’d never prayed before) – that the cops would show. Though he knew for a fact that the cops would never arrive. Not in this neighborhood. Tony saw to that. Every cop in the city was on the payroll and were sworn to never set foot within this part of town on pain of death.
            He ran. He ran so far away. He just ran. He ran all night and day.
            That’s what it felt like. In reality, though, he’d only run a few blocks before becoming completely lost. He glanced around and finally he saw it: a single road leading straight from where he was standing to the edge of the city. It wasn’t far, either. He could make it. If he did, he could find the police! And they would be able to protect him! Yes!
            He just had to make it!
            He ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He ran… well, fast. Like, really fast.
            He could no longer hear the gunshots now. He had already put a good number of blocks between himself and the crazy blind man. But until he escaped from the city, he would not be safe. 

* * * 

            Kevin flexed his muscles in such a way that all the ropes binding him snapped like twigs. Really, really long, flexible, but still snapable twigs. It had been really tough to dodge a bullet and get up behind a guy and knock him out while wrapped up in those things, and he was glad to finally get them off.
            Then he saw Frank. He wasn’t breathing. He was lying there, motionless.
            “No…” Kevin breathed.
            He leaped to Frank’s side and rolled him onto his back. He began not breathing even more than he already was. Kevin panicked. Not knowing what to do, he tried to restart his heart. He beat on Frank’s chest, over and over. But nothing happened. Frank just lay there, breathless as ever. He tried again. Nothing.
            Kevin hit him one more time, as hard as he could, but this time missed and landed one on Frank’s stomach. Immediately, a chicken bone shot out of Frank’s throat and hit Kevin square in the eye. Following that, Frank started coughing back to life.
            “…Frank? …Frank! You’re alive! I saved you! It wasn’t your heart that stopped, it was your stomach! And I restarted it! With the power of friendship!”
            “*cough* no… *wheeze* I think… *cough* I think I got a chicken bone stuck in my throat when that guy - *koff* - took me down.”
            “Oh, right, Tony. He said he came here looking for you.”
            “Well, I noticed that!”
            “He said he was angry because you didn’t kill Pete! We’ve got to get you out of here before he wakes up!”
            “Pete? Who’s that?”
            “Look, I don’t care if you’re really a pacifist pretending to be a mob hitman, we can talk about that later! For now, we have to run!”
            “What!?” Frank shouted, as they took off down the street. 

* * * 

            Josh’s legs refused to carry him any further. He stopped and rested for a moment. He breathed deeply for about two minutes, before he heard some cars approaching. And by the sound of it, they were coming fast.
            He ducked behind a trash can and waited for them to come. As they passed, he looked out and saw two black cars flying down the street faster than Dale Earnhardt.
            He observed a short moment of silence for Dale Sr. and then got up and continued down the street at full speed. 

* * *

            Frank and Kevin ducked behind a house as two black cars breezed by them, then continued running.
            “Hey, Kev, who were those guys?”
            “Probably Tony’s henchmen, coming to save him.”
            “Well, if they’re coming from the city, wouldn’t that mean Tony’s from the city?”
            “Yes. It probably would, Frank. C’mon, you’re lagging behind.”
            “Well, if they’re from the city, then why exactly are we running towards it?”
            “Because that’s just the direction we started running! And we can’t go back the other way now, can we?”
            “No, I guess not.”
            “Alright, now will you come on?” Kevin urged, pushing another evil, mutant clown off of him. “Damn things are all over the place these days. And does the mayor do anything about it? Nooooo.”
            They ran until they reached the city limits. They stopped momentarily, and peered into the dark, crime infested hellhole. Kevin had already been here once tonight. He didn’t really want to come back, but at this point, he had no choice. They entered. 

* * *

            “Hey!” the man shouted, as Josh ran clean into him. He stared at the shoes of the man who’d just knocked him to the ground, eyes wide with fright.
            “Oh, hey, it’s you.”
            Josh looked up, fearing it was one of Pete’s men, come to kill him. But then he recognized him as the tall man who’d cleaned the apartment for him, earlier.
            “You! What’re you doing here?”
            “I’m running from a crime lord. You?”
            “Same.”
            “Oh. Cool. Let’s run together, uh, what’d you say your name was, again?”
            “Josh.”
            “Alright. Mine’s Kevin, and this here’s Frank. Now, Josh, do you know of any good hiding-” He stopped dead in the middle of his sentence, as the two cars from earlier came barreling down the road, heading straight for them.
            Kevin quickly reached into his pocket and was pleased to find that Tony had not confiscated the gun he’d taken off the boy earlier. He pulled it out, agreeing with himself in his head that it would be Tony’s last mistake.
            He shot at the cars two full times before running out of bullets.
            “Stupid kids, never keeping their guns fully loaded. Where is today’s youth headed?”
            No sooner had he finished his sentence than the tire on the closer car popped, sending it into a merciless spin. It crashed into the other car with such a force that they both flipped over with sheer synchronicity.
            Then they both caught fire and blew up.
            For a moment, Kevin made the mistake of thinking it was all over.
            Then, from the wreckage, he saw a hand reach out. It pulled itself along the asphalt, revealing itself to be attached to a man – Tony. Kevin foolishly failed to do anything to stop him then and there, and in a matter of seconds, Tony was on his feet (albeit somewhat wobbly), gun in hand.
            “…Alright,” he growled out, shaking slightly, “This ends here. No more escapes. No more sneaking blows to the back of the head.”
            Kevin, Frank, and Josh all backed into an alleyway, inching slowly away from Tony’s weapon until they hit a wall and could go no further. Tony stood, a silhouette against a singular lamppost, outlined in the entrance to the dark, decrepit alley. Josh reached for his gun, but found that he had dropped it previously as he was running from the laundromat.
            “Kevin, please do something!”
            “Josh, just remain calm. He can’t kill us all at once. The survivors can rush him and try and wrestle the gun away before he shoots the rest of us.”
            Tony’s eyes lit up. “Josh? As in, the Josh I sent to infiltrate old Blind Pete’s operation? I heard what happened in there! My men told me there were gunshots, and then they saw you fleeing the scene! You killed him, didn’t you? You ruined my plan, didn’t you? I’ll kill you! Nobody ruins my plans! Nobody!”
            “Hey, wait a moment,” Frank finally spoke up, “You’re mad at me for not killing Pete!”
            “You shut up! I’ll kill you, too! I’ll kill you both, for all your failures and double-crosses!”
            “Can I go, then?” Kevin asked.
            “No!” Kevin looked down at the ground, visibly disappointed by this answer. “No one is leaving! I’m going to kill all three of you! Starting with YOU… Mr. Margarine.”

Chapter Nine
Open Heart

By Leus

            Josh and Frank both looked to each other, wondering if the other’s last name was actually Margarine.  Kevin, on the other hand, gaped at the realization of what was going on.  “Wait!” he said, but it was too late.  Smilin’ Tony had fallen face-first onto the pavement, out cold.
            The three men looked around for any apparent cause of this development.  They found none.  "I guess he must have suffered brain damage from that blow I delivered to the back of his head and will now experience random black-outs for the rest of his life unless he receives some sort of risky surgery."
            Suddenly Frank clutched his stomach in pain.  "Oww!"  he exclaimed.
            "What's wrong?" Kevin queried.
            "My stomach feels like it's bleeding internally," Frank moaned.
            "I guess you must have suffered internal tissue damage from that blow I delivered to your stomach earlier that dislodged the chicken bone and saved your life, only to ultimately set it on its course to an untimely demise once more.  I'll go get help," he said.  He stood up and ran into a street sign, knocking himself out cold.
            "I guess he must have suffered retinal damage from that chicken bone to the eye earlier and therefore is experiencing decreased depth perception," Frank mused aloud.  Then he passed out.  Josh called an ambulance. 

* * *

            The four men woke up in hospital beds.  "What the fuck?" Tony inquired.
            "I second that motion," declared Kevin.
            "I don't even remember passing out for any reason," said Josh.
            Frank had stitches in his abdominal region.  Tony had a bandage around his head and stitches down both of his cheeks.  Kevin had an eyepatch.  Josh had braces.
            "Dude," Josh despaired, groping at his teeth.
            "They ruined my nickname opportunity!" whined Tony.
            "This is bitchin," said Kevin.
            "Well," Kevin began, "I guess we have no choice but to settle our problems like women:  With words."
            "I'll start," Josh volunteered.  "You see, Tony, I never meant to get into this whole mess...  I just wanted a little extra cash because money was tight, you know?  I didn't think I'd get sent on an assassination job so soon.  I'd planned to get out of the business before it came down to that.  I panicked; I didn't know what to do!  I'm sorry."
            "Well," said Tony, hesitating.  "I suppose it's alright.  You meant no harm, except to my own men who you brutally murdered.  All is forgiven."
            "But I didn't kill them!" Josh exclaimed.
            "Wuh?" Tony mumbled confusedly.  "What do you mean?  It was a giant bloodbath."
            "That was me," Kevin said.  "I ended up accidentally taking the job that was intended to be for Josh here.  Oh, that reminds me.  Blind Pete thought I was one of YOUR lackies.  Sup with that?"
            "Oh, yeah," Tony said.  "On top of being blind, old and fat, Pete also suffers from dementia.  He thinks he works for me.  I was counting on that making it easier for me to take him and his men down.  But apparently not."
            "Huh," said Kevin.
            "Oh well," said Tony.  "His following will surely disperse before long now that the old bastard's finally dead."
            "I didn't kill him, either," Josh spoke up.
            "Whaaat?" Tony probed confusedly.
            "Yeah we just got in an epic gunfight.  I don't think anyone died.  Maybe the Asian guy," Josh explained.
            "Well hell," Tony said, taking a moment to absorb the information.  "Speaking of not killing Pete:  I've still got a bone to pick with you, Frank."
            There was no response.
            "Frank?" Tony repeated.
           "Uh, I think Frank's actually still passed out," Kevin said.  "But in any case, that's not the Frank you were looking for.  Frankie Margarine was my childhood friend.  And he's dead now."
            "Well I'll be damned," Tony said.
            "Yeah," said Kevin.  "I'm glad we've managed to get all this cleared up without any further violence."
            "I know!" Tony said enthusiastically.  "I feel so much better now!"
            "I feel the same way," Kevin said, smiling.
            "One thing still puzzles me, though," Tony started.  "How did Frank Margarine die?"
            "Oh, I had to shoot him yesterday evening before he turned into a--"
            SMASH!!!
            The hospital room's window shattered, sending glass shards flying everywhere.  A brick landed on the floor, cracking the tile.  The men looked to the window to see a severely discolored human figure.  It had greenish-blue skin, sparse hair, open wounds and torn clothing.  Blood was smeared around its mouth and dripped from its chin onto the white tile as it leaned in through the window.
            "ZOMBIE!" the men shouted in unison.  They all got up and bolted for the door.  Josh made it out first.  Kevin ran into the door frame and fell on his ass.  Tony tried to stand but immediately fell on his face, unable to balance or perform even simple motor functions.  Frank lie in bed sleeping.
            "Well damn," Josh said, peeking his head back into the room.
            "Eeeuuooooooogghhhhrrrrrrrllllllah!" the zombie exclaimed.  Josh walked over to the zombie to stab it in the face with a shard of glass, but two other zombies suddenly stepped out from the bushes.
            "Hmm," Josh thought to himself.  "Killing one zombie looks easy enough, but three...  Eh.  I'm not gonna risk it."
            Tony rolled over onto his back and looked to the window.  "Well I'll be a monkey's third nipple," Tony said.  "It's Fred, Mike and George."
            Kevin regained his composure and took a gander at the window as well.  "Oh yeah, I remember them," he said, reflecting fondly back to the earlier afternoon when he'd brutally murdered them.
            "We gotta get outta here," Josh suggested.  "Here, let Tony brace himself on you to walk, and I'll lead you both.  What should we do about Frank?"
            "Eh, he can hold his own," Kevin said confidently.
            "He's unconscious!" Josh replied.
            "You're right, it's no use," Kevin said sadly.  "We've got to go on without him."
            "Whatever," said Josh.  Kevin helped Tony to his feet and took Josh's hand tenderly in his own.  The three men made their way out of the building in their hospital gowns. 

* * *

            "Alice!  Get in here!" Pete shouted from his chair.  After a moment he heard the calm clopping of high heels against hardwood.  They grew louder, then came to a halt.
            "Yes?" a woman's voice inquired.
            "Alice, what the hell is going on in here?" Pete demanded, flustered.  "Are there any dead bodies?"
            "Only that of the old Asian gentlemen," she replied.
            "Damnit!" Pete yelled angrily.  "That kid is going to pay!  Call Tony and have him send someone after him!"
            "There are so many problems with that request that I can't even begin to tell you, but I'll see to it that the matters at hand are taken care of," Alice responded.  The calm clopping started up again and began slowly fading into the distance.  Flustered, Pete leaned back in his chair to take a nap. 

* * *

            Upon reaching the street, the men spotted a zombie assaulting a woman in a parked vehicle.  The zombie had forced its way into the driver's side window, and the woman was screaming for help.  Kevin left Tony to lean on Josh and dashed to the woman's aid.  Grabbing the zombie by the shoulder, he wrenched it away from the car.
            The zombie stared quizzically at Kevin for a moment, then lunged forward.  Kevin threw a punch, but missed the zombie's face in favor of striking thin air instead.  "Damn," Kevin thought.  "The manliness of this eyepatch is not apparent in my actions."  Deciding on a different tactic, Kevin grabbed the zombie by the throat with both hands.  He smashed its face into the car a couple of times, then let it drop lifelessly to the asphalt.
            "Are you okay, ma'am?" he asked of the woman in the car.  She whined weakly in response.  Kevin looked to see that she had been bitten in the neck.  She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.  Kevin reached forward and bashed her face into the steering wheel a couple of times until her skull caved in.  He then opened the door and dragged her corpse out and onto the ground.  He began to get into the driver's seat.
            "Wait!" Josh said, hobbling up with Tony.  "You shouldn't be driving in your condition."
            "Good call," Kevin said.  He stepped aside and let Tony take the wheel.  Kevin walked around to the passenger seat and Josh hopped in the back.  They took off with a sweet burnout.
            As they gazed across the scenery, they spotted a significant amount of zombies.  It wasn't a full-fledged infestation, but more than you'd expect to see walking down the street on any given day.  Kevin cursed himself inwardly for having brought this back with him, but was quickly brought out of his dwelling by a sudden noise.
            THUD!
            "Got one!" Tony yelled in a jolly fashion as a zombie carcass came crashing to the earth behind the speeding vehicle.
            "Nice," said Kevin.  Then they crashed into a street light.
            For a moment all Kevin could hear was an all-encompassing ringing in his ears.  He looked around, dazed.
            "Ugh," Josh grunted from the back seat.  Kevin glanced back to see if Josh was alright.  He looked well enough, although his lip appeared to be swelling up.  He spat a mouthful of blood onto the seat beside him.
            Kevin then glanced over to Tony.  He was still gripping the steering wheel tightly and was slumped forward, eyes closed.  As Kevin's hearing began to return, he realized Tony was inadvertently laying on the horn.  The sound resounded throughout the streets.
            Upon taking a closer look, Kevin saw that Tony had suffered a blow to his forehead.  A streak of blood trickled down from the wound and dripped off the tip of his nose.  The stitches in his cheeks had also come undone.  Kevin smiled.  Tony would be happy to find that when he came to.  Suddenly the airbag deployed and violently shoved Tony back against the seat.
            Kevin groaned and pulled open his door.  It looked like he was going to have to drive after all.  He walked over to the driver's side and helped Tony out onto the pavement.  Josh finally stepped out of the car as well.
            "Here," said Kevin.  "Help me hoist him into the back."  Kevin grabbed Tony's shoulders and lifted.
            "Should we even be driving this car anymore?" Josh queried, lifting Tony's legs.  The two men heaved Tony head-first into the back seat.
            "I'm sure it'll be fine," Kevin said, hopping into the driver's seat.  Josh made his way around to the passenger side and got in.  Kevin threw it in reverse and stomped the gas, doing an even sweeter burnout than Tony's earlier, and backwards at that.  He pulled away from the street light.
            After shifting into drive the trio was off once more.
            THUMP!
            Kevin scored a zombie roadkill of his own.  The car bounced over the carcass.  Suddenly a giant bright blue and white swirling light seemed to tear the very air before them open.  Kevin slammed on the brakes.  He looked ahead in awe.
            "What the hell is that?" Josh questioned, finally having fully returned to his senses after the wreck.
            Kevin gulped.  "I thought I was the only one left who could open one of these," he said, dumbfounded.
            "One of what?" Josh reiterated frantically.
            "A rift," Kevin replied.

Chapter Ten
Into the Deep Blue

By Amedeus

            The two stared at the rift. They had no idea where it could possibly take them. But there were more pressing questions on Josh’s mind.
            “What’s a rift? How do you open them? Why are you the last one who can do said opening?”
            “Okay, number one?” Kevin began, “If you keep asking me questions in a row like that I won’t be able to answer any of them. And number two? None of that is important right now. What is important is figuring out what’s on the other side of this, and who opened it.”
            “Well at least tell me what a rift is.”
            “A rift is a hole in space that can take you anywhere from anywhere, so long as you know how to open one. Jeez, open a sci-fi book sometime.”
            “Well sorry for not knowing more about probably impossible physics.”
            “It’s right in front of you, how can you say it’s impossible?”
            “Hey, I’ve been through a lot today,” Josh rebutted, “I could have, like, post-traumatic stress disorder or something. I can’t trust what my eyeballs are telling me.”
            “A lot? This is like breakfast for me. Seriously. I can’t get a McMuffin without someone dying. Or being placed in a prolonged stasis. Or being demoleculized and warped off to some remote island to become food for a race of incredibly extra-small pygmies. I’m not kidding. That happened once.”
            Josh was silent for a moment.
            “…You made demoleculized up,” he said finally.
            “Where do you think this portal goes?” Kevin asked.
            “I have no idea. Where do they usually go?”
            “Wherever the other side is.”
            “Well how do we find out where that is?”
            Kevin thought about this question deeply. He pondered whether there were any alternatives, but could only come up with one solution.
            “We go through.”
            “In there? No way, I’m not stupid. My mother always told me not to play around in giant, blue, glowing holes. That’s, like, the first sign of herpes.”
            “We go through,” Kevin insisted. Josh hesitated, then sighed and nodded without saying a word. The two approached the giant, blue swirling death-hole in the air. Josh could feel a warm wind coming through it. Somehow, he’d expected it to be freezing cold. But everything around the rift was uncomfortably hot. They exchanged glances and finally stepped through.
            “AAAAAUUUUURRRRRGGHHHHHRRRRRRRRRBLE!”
            It was the most terrifying cry Josh had ever heard in his life. He looked over at Kevin. It was horrible. Kevin had a sharp, flaming tentacle of some kind pierced through his chest. He would have screamed, but his entire mouth was filled with the most severe pain he had ever felt in his life. He could feel a million bullet ants digging into every inch of it.
            Everything went downhill from there. And just as this was getting entirely too gruesome to even mention here, Josh saw out of his remaining eye a thousand dwarf men running up to them. Then the most curious thing happened: They started singing.
            All at once, the air (or whatever they were straining to breathe) was filled with a thousand tiny (yet loud) voices singing, “We represent the Lollypop Guild, the Lollypop Guild, the Lollypop Guild. And on behalf of the Lollypop Guild, we welcome you to Munchkinland!”
            At the end of their song, they started again. And once they finished again, they started another round. Josh, although about to pass out from the pain, couldn’t understand the reason for the presence of these men, except as maybe some kind of taunt from whoever was inflicting this torture on them. Then he looked over and saw Kevin. He was absolutely panic-stricken, as would be expected. But he was staring, wide-eyed, at the Lollypop Guild. And Josh realized that, somewhere in the back of what remained of his mind, he knew that Kevin was always absolutely terrified of the guys in the Lollypop Guild. He remembered back when Kevin used to run and hide during their few seconds onscreen whenever he watched The Wizard of Oz.
            Something about this struck him as odd. As another winged demon baby threw a pitchfork into his leg, Josh came to the conclusion that something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark. Then he began to realize that there was no possible way he could have a memory of Kevin as a child.
            “Kevin,” a voice said.
            Josh looked around to see where the voice had come from.
            “Kevin,” it said again.
            Josh looked at Kevin and found him staring right at him. His mouth opened and he said again, this time more urgently, “Kevin.”
            Kevin blinked for a moment, then finally looked down at Josh who was standing next to him, giving him a slightly worried look.
            “What happened?” Kevin asked, looking a little dazed, and more than a little shook up.
            “I asked you how we find out where the other side of the portal is, and you went brain-dead on me. You sure you’re okay?”
            “Yeah, I’m fine,” Kevin said. He realized he must have imagined that entire hellish place. He wasn’t sure why he’d imagined it through Josh’s eyes, though. Or why he imagined Josh would think that place was Denmark. But it didn’t matter. He had dreamt it all up, and that was the most important thing.
            Unless… Kevin thought, Unless my damaged eye can somehow see the future, now!
            “No,” he decided firmly, “That would just be stupid.”
            “What would?”
            “Nothing. You wouldn’t get it.”
            “Okay, so then how do we find out where the other side is?”
            “I’ll tell you how we don’t find out,” Kevin replied, very seriously, “By going through it. In fact, we should probably even back away a little further. Yes, that would be a very good idea.” Kevin followed his own idea. Josh did the same.
            Kevin looked back to make sure he wasn’t going to run into anything, and as he did a small brick flew out of the rift as though it had been lobbed. It sailed majestically through the air and collided equally-majestically with the back of Kevin’s head.
            Kevin scratched his head and looked at the brick. There was a single word written on it.
            “Dick,” Josh read aloud. The two of them stood there for the longest time studying the brick, trying to figure out why someone would write this particular word on this particular brick and throw it through this particular rift at Kevin’s particular head, and had completely failed to notice that the rift itself had sealed up again long ago.
            They also failed to notice two other things: The first was a metal object, slightly larger than the brick, which had also been cast through the rift shortly prior to its closing.
            The other thing they failed to notice was a tall, beautiful lady with black hair that came down just long enough to cover her right eye walking up the middle of the street in a red dress and stopping a short ways away from them.
            “Kevin Epstein, I presume?” Kevin looked up at the mention of his name. He noticed the lady.
            “I see that I’m not mistaken. Good. My name is Alice Carmona. Better known as Alice the Deadeye.” As soon as he’d heard her say it, Kevin knew that he had never heard that name before.
            She continued, “I am the leader of a group known as the Tetsuo Neutralization Team. It is our goal and duty to stop those who become too individually powerful.” It was then that Kevin noticed that her belt was also a holster. She was armed with an old-west style Colt magnum. And a leather strap reaching over her shoulder that dangled a large satchel behind her back told him that that wasn’t all she brought.
            “And you, Kevin Epstein, have become entirely too individually powerful.”
            At that, Kevin finally stepped into the conversation, which was becoming much too one-sided for his tastes.
            “If that’s so, then why didn’t you take me out long ago?”
            “The truth is, we’re bored. We saw a challenge in you, Epstein. We decided to let you grow and become strong enough to take us on and give us a real fight.” She stopped and sighed. “Unfortunately, sometimes my day job and the Team’s duties can cross over one another. My employer has asked you dead. And I’m not one to disappoint. So it seems I’ll have to take you ahead of your time, anyways. A shame, really. But, what must be done must be done. Sorry, Epstein. It’s nothing personal.”
            Kevin looked dead into her shining blue eye. It was so beautiful and gleaming. So sun-bright it seemed as though staring into it for too long could cause one to go blind, and yet so blue it seemed it only thought of rain.
            And it was perfectly focused right back on Kevin. Her hand was held slightly out from her side, perfectly rock-steady. It was a gunfight at high just-past-noon, only Kevin wasn’t armed. He was still wearing the hospital gown. He had no place to conceal a weapon.
            Their eyes met. They stared right into each other, as though they were each examining the others’ soul. Then finally, her hand shot down lightning-fast to her hip. And as it did so, Kevin saw the slightest grin cross her lips.
            She pulled her revolver at a speed so fast it made the sound barrier weep, and shot it straight from the hip. Her aim was true, but for every bit of speed she carried, Kevin was faster. He dove out of the way at the last second and the shot ricocheted off the asphalt.
            Alice corrected herself with pure skill and speed and got off three more shots before Kevin even hit the ground. And somehow, all three struck just as true as the first.
            Kevin rolled to the side and picked up the revolver that had been cast through the rift and fired it once. The bullet hit the strap wrapped over her shoulder and snapped it. The satchel on her back fell to the ground and slammed into Alice’s back, briefly knocking her off balance and causing her to fire her weapon at a spot on the ground several feet away from Kevin.
            “Damn eyepatch,” Kevin muttered. From the weight of it, Kevin knew the gun was now empty and so retired it from the battle. Alice moved her gun to her left hand and used the right to pick up the half of the strap that still remained attached to the satchel. She slung it back over her shoulder and looked at Kevin.
            “You’ve got one shot left. You gonna take it?” Kevin queried.
            “Not today, cowboy. I underestimated you. You might be fun, yet.” She turned around and began to walk away, then stopped and turned her head back and added, “You’ll be meeting my brothers and sister, soon enough. Give all three of them a good show. I want to see you again,” then turned to her front and walked off the same way she arrived.
            Kevin picked up the empty revolver and stood up. Josh walked up to him.
            “Well… that was cool.”
            “I'd better be prepared when the next one arrives,” Kevin told him, “Those four are dynamite.”

Chapter Eleven
Reunion

By Leus

            Frank awoke with a start.  Where was he?  Why did he have stitches in his abdomen?  What was 22 divided by 7?  The answers he sought he would find within his own rationale and recollection:  A hospital room, because he'd received abdominal surgery to fix his internal bleeding, and a mathematical equation.  He smiled at his clever resolution of his third internal query.  "Works every time," he said aloud.
            He needed some food.  He began to get up.  Suddenly he heard a noise.  He looked over and realized that there were three zombies slowly limping towards him.  Immediately he got up, dashed out of the room, and ran to Subway.
            "Yeah, I'll have a 12" meatball marinara," he said.  "Everything on it."
            "That'll be $5.48," the guy behind the counter said.  Frank patted himself down and realized that not only did he not have his wallet, but his hospital gown was open-backed and everyone could see his hairy crack.
            "Well, I don't have any money," said Frank.  "But I can show you my hairy crack."
            "What?" replied the guy behind the counter confusedly.
            "Sorry.  It was the first thing that came to mind," Frank said apologetically.  "So I guess I can't have that sub huh?"
            "Well, I already made it, so, I dunno," the guy said contemplatively.  "I'd just throw it out anyway, so, here:  You take half, and I'll take half.  I'm hungry anyway."
            Frank narrowed his eyes.  "You greedy son of a bitch," he said.
            "Hey, man, whatever," the guy responded.  "I'll just eat the whole thing."
            Frank gritted his teeth.  "Fine," he said after brief hesitation.  He snatched the 6" meatball sub from the guy and stormed away angrily eating it.
            As he reached the door to the street he took the last bite, and he threw the wrapper on the sidewalk in defiance.  He then began to stroll down the street.  "What's going on, again?" he wondered quietly to himself.  Then he remembered.  "Oh, yeah.  Smilin' Tony.  Zombies.  Kevin.  Where is Kevin, anyway?"
            Suddenly, in the distance ahead of him he saw a bright blue light radiating brilliantly.  "I wonder what that giant incandescent blue glow is," he thought.  He pondered this query for a moment.  "I'm going to walk towards it," he resolved. 

* * *

            "Where were we?" Kevin asked confusedly.
            "You were talking about how we should be prepared for Alice's siblings," Josh informed him.
            "Oh yeah," Kevin said.  "Maybe we should look them up and try and launch a preemptive strike of sorts."
            "Sounds like a plan," Josh confirmed.
            "What was her last name, again?" Kevin asked hopefully.
            "Carmona," Josh responded.
            "Damn, how'd you remember that?" Kevin asked.
            "I dunno," said Josh.  "I've just always been good with names."
            "Really?" Kevin inquired dubiously.  Josh nodded.  "What was the name of my childhood friend who Tony mistook Frank for?"
            "Frankie Margarine," Josh replied.
            "Hmm," said Kevin.  "That was easy.  What was the name of the guy who I left alive earlier when I performed that killing spree in the apartment?"
            "Phil," Josh answered.
            "Damn," Kevin muttered.  "What's my mother's maiden name?"
            "Williams," Josh responded.
            "Lucky guess," Kevin sniped.
            "Indeed," Josh said victoriously.
            "What's Blind Pete's name?" Kevin asked.
            "Pete," Josh replied.
            "Hell," said Kevin.  "Anyway, let's go look these suckaz up."

* * *

            The light had flickered off by this point, but Frank was already walking a certain direction and didn't feel like diverting it now.  He continued strolling for a moment.  Then he saw a familiar sight up ahead.
           It was Kevin.  He was standing there.  Frank had seen him do this several times before, and it was never a good sign.
            "Sup, guys?" Frank inquired as he sauntered up to them.
            "I just got in an epic gunfight and everyone missed every shot," Kevin replied.
            "Sweet, how'd you win, then?" Frank queried.
            "She ran away because I was so manly," Kevin said.
            "She?" Frank repeated.
            "That's right.  Some chick named Alice--" Kevin paused.
            "Carmona," Josh said.
            "Right," said Kevin.  "Alice Carmona.  She said that her employer had ordered me dead.  I dunno who she means or what he'd want with me, but I know it can't be good."
            "Doesn't sound like it," Frank affirmed.
            "Anyway," Kevin continued, "she said her siblings were after me as well, so we're about to go try and look them up and go after them first."
            "Cool, let's go," said Frank.
            "Hmm," Kevin pondered.  "How could we accomplish such research?"
            "Tony's lair's got free Wi-Fi," Josh spoke up.
            "Good call," said Kevin, then realized something.  "Wait a second.  How are we gonna take advantage of that?  We've got nothing but hospital gowns with us."
            "Backless hospital gowns," Frank amended.
            "Ooh, really?" Kevin asked excitedly.
            "That woman you killed was white.  Maybe she had a laptop in her car," Josh suggested.  The three men walked to the wrecked car and began searching it.  Upon reaching below the driver's seat Kevin procured a Macbook Air©.
            "Alright, let's head to Tony's lair," Kevin commanded.
            "Shotgun!" Frank declared.
            "Aw," Josh whined.  The three men got in, Josh pushing Tony's motionless body out of the way.  Kevin started the car, and they were off. 

* * *

            Phil was kicking back in the main room reflecting on how he'd never see his friends again.  "Maybe I should try and get out of the business while I still can," he suggested inwardly.  A sudden noise disturbed his thoughts.
            KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
            Someone was knocking on the door.
            "Who's there?" Phil asked.
            "Boo!" called a voice from outside.
            Phil furrowed his brow.  "Boo who?" he inquired in response.
            "Don't cry," the voice said reassuringly.  "It's only me, Kevin."
            Phil's face lit up.  Kevin was the only friend he had left now.  He quickly stood up and made his way to the door, unlocking and opening it.
            "Hey man," Phil said as the door swung open to reveal his friend and two strangers.
            "Sup?  This here's Frank, and I'm sure you remember Josh," Kevin said, introducing each man respectively.
            "Oh, sure," Phil said, nodding his head externally and shaking it from within.  The four men dispersed throughout the room.  Kevin took a seat in a booth and Phil sat across from him.  Josh and Frank went to play pool.
            "So, how'd you find this place?" Phil inquired.
            "Oh," said Kevin, busting open the Macbook Air©.  "Josh gave me directions.  He was the guy who was originally supposed to kill you, you know?"
            "Oh yeah?" Phil replied curiously.
            "Totally," said Kevin.  "Who knows what could've happened to you if I hadn't taken the job instead."
            "Phew," Phil said, relieved.
            "Actually he probably would've just pussed out on the whole thing altogether," Kevin said.  He went to Google© and typed the string "Alice Carmona."
            The first result was a web blog for someone called Alice C.  "Looks promising," Kevin thought as he clicked it.  A black background decorated with skulls appeared behind red text.  He read the most recent entry.
            "My gunfighting skills are waning, apparently," it read.  "I snapped off several shots at a target this afternoon and missed every one."
            "Damn, she's fast," Kevin observed aloud.
            "I am very disappointed in myself," he read on.  "Sometimes I feel like it's all too much, like maybe I should just give up, you know?  I dunno.  Anyway, I'm gonna tell my brothers and sister about this guy.  Hopefully they'll have better luck than I did.  TTYL.  -Alice.  Music:  Will Smith - Miami.  Mood:  Blah."
            "Party in the city where the heat is on, all night on the beach till the break of dawn," Kevin sung to himself as he scrolled down to her friends list.  Her top three friends were named "Ben C," "C-Squared," and "Dani Baby."  He clicked on Ben.
            This page had a simple white background with plain black text.  He glanced over at this page's about section.  The name field read "Ben Carmona."
            "Bingo," Kevin said aloud, feeling accomplished.  He read the first entry.
            "Went to the cafe today with Tina and Brian," it read.  "Brian's such a little cutie.  I call him Hawaiian Brian, because he's half Hawaiian.  I think he's really starting to like me.  More on this later."
            "Gay," Kevin said aloud.  He posted an anonymous comment in the blog's comments section.  It read, "Gay."  Kevin glanced over to Ben's list of most recent blogs.
            "Hawaiian Brian, Job search continues, Good song, I like Taco Bell, New poem, Hilarious drunk guy, Should I buy this, New poem," Kevin read through the list.  He clicked on "Hilarious drunk guy."
            "I just got home from this week's practice," it read.  "Right as I was leaving the theatre, some guy was coming out of Mike's across the street.  He immediately began hitting on these two girls who were walking by, but they just ignored him.  He tried to follow them, but he tripped and fell over.  I had to try not to laugh.  As I was walking away, I looked back over my shoulder and he was staggering off.  Good times."
            "Hmm," Kevin emanated, flexing his manly brain.  He hit up Google© and typed in "Mike's" along with the city name.  A couple of results popped up.  The homepage for Mike's Pub was one of them.  Kevin clicked it.  He went to the "About" tab and found the pub's location.  After entering it in Google Maps, he found out that it was just mere blocks from here.
            "Hey, you know Mike's Pub?" Kevin asked Phil.
            "Sure," Phil replied.  "I go there all the time."
            "Is there a theatre across the street from it?" Kevin requested.
            "I think so, yeah," Phil responded.  "Van something-or-other Theatre."
            "Sweet," Kevin said victoriously.  He went back to Ben's page and checked the date and time on that entry.  It was exactly one week ago from the current day, and it was posted at 8:11 PM.  Kevin checked his Blue's Clues watch.  It was 6:49 PM.  He stood up from the table.
            "Where you goin'?" Phil inquired.
            "I've got a date," Kevin said, pausing and turning dramatically towards Phil, "with destiny."
            "Wow," Phil said.  "Can I come?"
            "Of course," Kevin said.  "The more the merrier.  Come on, guys!" Kevin called over to the pool table.  Frank and Josh had just begun to rack up for a second game.  They put their cues down and answered Kevin's summons.
            "Good timing," said Frank.  "We just got done."
            "Really?" Kevin asked as he began leading the men to the door.  "Who won?"

Chapter Twelve
Tainted Meat

By Amedeus

            “How does nobody win at pool?” Kevin asked, after hearing the slightly confusing response. “That’s not really possible. If you finished the game, one of you loses. That’s a sure thing.”
            “Well, we weren’t playing actual pool, you see,” Frank began, “We couldn’t find any of the balls. Except the seven, but that’s everybody’s least favorite billiards ball, so we threw it away.”
            “But you said you finished the game.”
            “Right, we were playing imaginary pool,” Josh chimed in.
            “Imaginary pool.”
            “Yes.”
            “Okay, elaborate. Now.”
            Frank took over, “Imaginary pool is pool except without any physical supplies aside from the table and sometimes cue sticks. You play the game like usual, you just have to imagine where all the balls are and how they move.”
            “But you both agree on how it plays out?”
            “Yeah,” Josh said, “It’s not really all that difficult to understand how the ball would move if it were visible… and in existence. So there’s generally no confusion as to how everything goes down.”
            “Okay, so then if everyone’s in agreement on everything, how does no one win? Even though it’s imaginary, it sounds like it would play out like a normal game.”
            “Well,” Frank turned the attention back to himself, “When the imaginary lava flow melted all the balls into putty, it was clear the game couldn’t continue using the imaginary rules we set in place before we began.”
            “How do you manage to get lava flow on the pool table, imaginary or otherwise?”
            “From the imaginary tabletop volcano that formed, of course.”
            “What were you, playing imaginary miniature golf billiards? How does a volcano come into play on the table?”
            “When a meteor hits it. Obviously. The crater then forms into a volcano over many centuries.”
            “Okay, one: I’m not sure that’s entirely scientifically accurate, but since it’s imaginary, whatever. Two: You weren’t playing for many centuries.”
            “I guess time just flies when you’re having fun.”
            “I’m going to ignore the way that’s not valid at all, and instead ask where the meteor itself even came from.”
            “Listen: Have you ever played Final Fantasy VII?” Josh inquired. Kevin was deciding whether to say “yes” or to mutilate Josh for the response he knew a “yes” would illicit. He was refused this opportunity to amend the last few minutes of his life when Phil chimed in with a hearty “we’re here!”
            Kevin looked up. There was a large sign overhead that signified that they were, indeed, at the Van Gotshall Theatre. He looked across the street. They were also, indeed, directly across from Mike’s Pub. While all he really wanted in life at this very moment was a frosty beer and a rowdy bar fight, he knew he had other business to attend to first.
            “Who’s Van Gotshall?” Josh wondered aloud.
            “I don’t know, but I’ll bet he’s ugly,” Kevin replied.
            They entered the Theatre, while exchanging comments about how they hate people who spell theater that way. Inside, it was very dark. They could make out many rows of seats and a couple aisles heading down through them towards a large stage. The group started down one of the aisles, looking about themselves. They all sensed that something wasn’t right. If there were people here, why were the lights so not on?
            As if in response to their thoughts, the lights onstage flicked on, bathing what would normally be considered an audience in their dim overflow.
            A figure stepped out onto the stage, catching the group’s attention. The figure was the hideous shape of what appeared to be a grotesquely misshapen man. The entirety of his skin had been badly burned, with his face having gotten the worst of it. His entire head was cased in a glass dome, with several tubes hooked up to it stemming from his back. The rest of his body seemed to be a mutant, bio-mechanical mess. Various pieces of machinery stuck out of several joints and other odd parts of his person. Pieces of meat seemed to exist without purpose sticking out of random parts of him. In layman’s terms, he wasn’t a pretty sight.
           “Welcome, Kevin,” the figure growled in a voice that seemed to be half-electrical, half-gurgle, and half-Vincent Price.
            “Uh. Thanks? Who are you? Are you Ben?” Kevin, like sometimes, sought answers.
            “You don’t recognize me, Kevin? Given, my physical appearance has undergone a few… changes, since our last encounter. Due in no small part to yourself, I might add.”
            “No, I’m sorry, you must have me confused with some other Kevin. I’m quite certain I’ve never met you before in my life, uh, what’d you say your name was again?”
            “Ah, my name. It’s been so long since I’ve been called by it, I’m not sure I even remember what it is. Anymore, people have referred to me as Putrid Manbot III. I was, however, once a human with a human name, much like yourself. But then, thanks to you, I’m forced to live like this. Part freak, part machine.”
            “(More like part freak, part freak),” Josh whispered to his friends.
            “I heard that, Pureskin. My hearing is much improved over that of a normal human. And just because I’m different from you, does that really make me a freak?”
            “Yes. Yes it does,” Kevin solidly confirmed.
            “Well, if I am a freak, it can only be considered your fault, Kevin Epstein!” Manbot had raised his voice several decibels now, “Do you remember our last battle, seven years ago? The one that left me a crippled hunk of flesh who must wear a shield around his head because the skin on his face was decimated so badly that it can’t exist in temperatures above 38 degrees without exploding into a fury of horrid, burning pain!? You should! The destruction we caused was biblical! Half of Australia had to take three months off to rebuild and visit therapy!”
            “You’ll have to be more specific.”
            Manbot gritted what could be considered his teeth in anger for a moment, then responded, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even care if you remember me. I only care if you die for the atrocity that you’ve caused me to embody.”
            “Can it wait?” Kevin asked, returning to his inquisitive state, “I’m actually looking for someone right now. Maybe you can help me. His name is Ben, uh…” he trailed off.
            Josh picked up the slack, “Carmona. Car-moe-nuh. It’s not that hard.”
            “Right. Ben Carmona. Have you seen him around?”
            “Ben Carmona? Ha! He’s never been anywhere near here.”
            “No no, his blog definitely said he comes here on a regular basis. And that sometime around now would probably be a good time to catch him.”
            “Fool, I wrote that blog! I wrote all of those blogs! Ben’s, Alice’s, Dani’s, everyone’s! I knew they would come after you sooner or later. It was only a matter of time before you tried to get the jump on them. Same old Kevin, eh? Was I wrong? And by the way, Kevin, just because a guy thinks another guy is cute and gives him an equally cute nickname does not make him gay!”
            “Wait a minute,” Kevin said, interrupting Manbot’s relentless monologue, “If you’ve just been making these blogs up while waiting for me to stumble across them, then why did Alice’s most recent one correspond to the battle I had with her earlier today?”
            “Well, of course I’ve been keeping tabs on you, too,” Manbot explained.
            “If you’ve been watching me, why didn’t you just fight me then, instead of waiting for me to come to some dingy theater in the city?”
            “Because, Kevin, I had to prove that I’m smarter than you! That I’m better than you! I had to lure you in. Trick you into coming to me!”
            “But how did you know Alice’s team would come for me?”
            “Because they came for me, Kevin. They come for everyone as powerful as us, and eliminate us. I only survived because your beating was so brutal they couldn’t bring themselves to further injure someone as horridly deformed as you had left me.”
            “In that case, you should be thanking me.”
            “Hardly. I spent countless nights just lying there, hoping they would arrive and put me out of my misery. They never did.”
            “In any case, this is all getting too weird and confusing and slightly creepy in a bad way. Can I just beat you down now and get on with my life?”
            “I invite you to try, dear Kevin.”
            “Alright then. Josh, break out the laptop. If you can get a connection around here, try and find information on Alice and her brethren that hasn’t been made up by some weird robofreak hellbent on revenge. The rest of you, do whatever.”
            Josh took a seat near the back and opened up the laptop. Phil and Frank took seats near the front and prepared to enjoy the show. Kevin realized he was still holding the revolver from earlier. Since his hospital gown wasn’t properly tied, he had a few loose strings hanging from the back of it. He tied one of them around the gun as a sort of makeshift holster. He then climbed up onto the stage and assumed a fighting stance.
            “Ah, finally. Just like old times, my friend. Can you feel the nostal-” Manbot had failed to deliver the entirety of his sentence as Kevin had sprung forward and delivered a blow to what probably used to be his gut.
            “Grawk!” Manbot exclaimed as he spat some unidentifiable vital organ up onto the inside of his dome. Kevin readied his other fist to follow in the first one’s footsteps, but Manbot was ready for him. He turned his body such that Kevin hit a scalding pipe protruding from just under his right armpit. As Kevin yelped and leapt backwards, Manbot raised his arm, and a metal object that definitely wasn’t a revolver raised up from within it. There was a bright glow and the object began to hum, barely audible at first, then growing steadily louder as it continued.
            Kevin recovered and saw this. He readied himself in a general sort of way. Not ready for any particular thing, but if anything happened, by golly he was ready for it.
            “It” turned out to be a bright light suddenly jetting out of the front of this object. Kevin saw it, and his eyes widened then narrowed. He dove out of the way at the stylish last second. The light hit a wall behind him, and the wall suddenly ceased to be. Kevin was momentarily bummed out by the realization that this glowing object was merely a laser gun, but quickly regained his fighting spirit and vowed revenge on the meaty humanoid in front of him for letting him down so badly.
            He launched at Manbot, but once again Manbot was too fast. He soon found himself hurtling through the air and the hole so recently created by Manbot’s biggest bummer. By a stroke of luck, he landed in the storage room. More specifically, in a large pile of discarded costumes, made from only the softest cottons available.
            Kevin climbed out of the pile and looked around. There were all kinds of useful props around: A sword, a fake gun, another sword, a bitchin’ skull, and a rack of swords. Kevin broke the “In Case of Emergency” glass and took out the hand axe inside.
            He was about to climb back out the hole, but stopped and palmed the skull before leaving.
            Back out on the main stage, Kevin took his position opposite his foe, with the axe held tightly behind his back. He then held the skull aloft and cleared his throat before quoting, “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him!” He then glanced over at Manbot as though he had just noticed him and brought the plastic skull back down to shoulder-height and said with the slightest undertone of sarcasm in his voice, “Oh, look. Yorick’s skeletal structure was the same as yours: Fake.”
            This enraged Manbot, and he began a full-on collision course with Kevin. Kevin stood his ground firmly as Manbot barreled towards him. Then, once he was just about to bowl Kevin over, Kevin stepped to the side and swung the axe with around half of his might. It connected with the side of Manbot’s dome, which cracked like an egg.
            Manbot emitted a loud, mechanical, gurgled scream which pierced everyone else’s ears just about as well as the axe had pierced the dome. The room-temperature air enveloped his head and his whole face erupted into a searing pain of the highest degree. He fell on the ground and rolled around, clutching his dome in agony.
            He rolled until he fell right off the stage. He stood up immediately and ran straight through the audience’s seating. Frank, Phil, and Josh scrambled to get out of the way as Manbot tossed chairs out of his way as though they were nothing and ran clean through the wall behind them, ignoring the door completely. As the wall was demolished, the entire theater was bathed in a bright daylight that made everyone squint for a minute before adjusting.
            After everyone had regained eye composure, Kevin walked back to where Josh had been sitting. Josh was now sprawled out on the floor with the laptop lying next to him. Kevin offered his hand and pulled Josh to his feet.
            “Find anything useful?” he asked as he did so.
            “Huh?” For a moment Josh didn’t know what Kevin was talking about, but then remembered the computer. “Oh, right. The Carmonas. Yeah, I didn’t even get to look. The whole thing went berserk on me and crashed, and now it won’t boot.”
            “When you say it went berserk, what exactly happened?” Phil asked as he walked up with Frank close behind.
            “Have you seen the opening credits to Bio-Dome?”
            “Yeah.”
            “Yeah, it was basically that.”
            Kevin wasn’t sure how, but he knew that this was all Alice’s family’s doing.
            “It seems they don’t want us to find them,” he said finally, “I guess when they want to fight, they’ll find us.”
            “So then what do we do now?” Frank asked.
            “I vote we go across the street and get totally smashed,” Josh suggested.
            “A good idea,” Kevin confirmed, “But first, let’s find something that’ll better cover our backsides. There were some costumes in the room through that hole Manbot threw me through. Maybe there’s something wearable among them.”
            Josh, Frank, and Kevin all climbed onto the stage and through the hole and picked through the now-scattered outfits they found inside. Within minutes, Kevin had donned a cowboy costume, Frank was clad in his Kingly best, and Josh had found an ‘80s-style spaceman outfit. Properly attired, the four friends headed to the pub.

Chapter Thirteen
Turned Tables

By Leus

            On their way across the street, Kevin glanced down the road towards Tony's lair.  There, a couple of blocks down, he spotted his new and nearly destroyed car, the back door open with Tony himself standing next to it in a swaying haze.  "TONY!" Kevin yodeled.  After a few seconds, Tony's hospital gown ruffled with the breeze from Kevin's manliness.  He turned to face the source of the sonic eruption.  After a few more seconds of squint-scouting, Tony perked up and waved gleefully.  Kevin replied with a summoning arm sweep.  Tony obeyed Kevin's non-verbal command wearily, stumbling several times before he arrived at the rest of the group a couple minutes later.
            "Sup?" Tony inquired.  "Did you guys think I was dead?"
            "Nothin," said Kevin, answering only the first question.  "I got you a change of clothes, though."  He extended to Tony a loincloth and a giant feather headdress.
            Tony looked at it for a moment with a furrowed brow before allowing his gaze to ascend to meet Kevin's.  "Are you still mad at me for that whole trying to kill you thing?" Tony probed.
            Kevin looked offended.  "Why would you think that?" he asked in turn.
            "This nice, backless hospital gown clearly covers me better than that would," he replied, pointing at the chieftain gear.  Kevin pursed his lips thoughtfully, his eyes rolling towards the sky.  Tony could see that he'd meant well, so he interrupted Kevin's contemplation.  "It's alright.  Thanks anyway."
            "I feel a little out of place in these normal-ass clothes," Phil interjected.  "I'll take the Indian garb."
            "Native American," Kevin corrected.  Once Phil had donned his new attire, the village people made their way across the rest of the street and strolled into Mike's Pub.

* * *

            A few seconds later they approached the bar.  "We'll have five kiwitinis, please," Kevin ordered.  His four associates shifted uncomfortably at their perceived collective drink choice, but were too intimidated by Kevin's otherwise unrelenting manliness to speak up.
            The five of them looked around.  There were scores of people, flashing lights, loud club music and a huge dance floor.  "This isn't really a pub," Frank observed.
            "Yeah, well, what're you gonna do?" Kevin retorted gleefully, checking out the scenery.
            Suddenly some heavy-ass bass dropped.  The five glanced over to the DJ's booth.  Modern calligraphy hung above the booth reading "DJ Socrates."  He wore a toga over a wifebeater and stood behind the turntables.  He had short, spiky hair and several piercings and tattoos.  He began spinnin' a dope track, and the five dudes got down.
            "Hey," a super hot-ass chick said to Kevin.
            "Sup?" Kevin replied suavely, turning towards her but still bobbing to the beat.
            "Wanna buy me a drink?" she asked, looking slightly down with her head but up with her eyes to create the illusion that her eyes were bigger and more hypnotic than they really were, although they already kind of were anyway.
            "No," Kevin responded, unaffected.  "But I'll order you one."  After placing an order for a sixth kiwitini, Kevin turned directly away from the woman who was obviously pursuing what lie beneath those assless chaps.  Intrigued by being treated like shit, she continued pursuit.
            "My name's Dani," she said, extending her hand towards Kevin's back.  Without looking, Kevin's arm shot deftly around behind him, and he firmly yet gently grasped his suitor's hand in his, shaking lightly and releasing within a tactful time frame.  On the other side of his body, though, where his face was hidden, a shocked expression had been adopted.  "Could this be Alice's sister?" he wondered narratively.
            After pausing to regain his composure, he spun slowly around on his barstool.  He accidentally spun too far and was again nearing the direction he'd originally faced, so he pushed off once more.  This time, though, his excess in force was intentional.  After a few more giddy rotations, he finally brought himself to rest facing Dani.  "Nice to meet you.  I'm--" he hesitated.  Having not used the time he'd had to come up with a false identity during his personal merry-go-round session, Kevin thought quickly.  "Uh...  Evin-kay Epstein...ay..." he said, finally and uneasily.
            Dani raised an eyebrow.  "What was that?" she asked with a bit of a slur.  Kevin breathed a silent sigh of relief; it seemed she was tipsy enough not to see through his shabby disguise.
            "Evinque Epstinez," he reiterated, putting a latino emphasis on the name, and throwing in a z for good measure, hoping she'd just assume she hadn't heard it the first time.  "I'm from a small town in Argentina, but I live here now and work as an airplane mechanic."  Kevin was impressed at his improvisation abilities.
            Unfortunately, his skin and facial features were less stealthy.  Dani narrowed her eyes and inspected the man before her.  Kevin decided not to give her a chance to complete her considerations of his claims.  "My family has lived on a farm for as many generations as we know of," he explained, "but at age thirteen I decided I needed to accomplish more with my life.  I snuck out of the country and survived in the jungle for three months, wandering aimlessly before finally ending up in the Mexican city of...  Mexico City."  Dani's focus had fizzled out mid-story, and she now snapped back with a smile and a polite nod.  Kevin had sealed the deal.  He executed a victorious and visible fist pump.  He then executed another as the kiwitinis arrived.
           Frank took a sip, and Kevin remembered that the rest of his friends existed.  "Excuse me, por favor," he said to Dani, working in a slight latino accent.  He then turned away from her and leaned over.  "Yo, tell the boys to pretend you don't know me," he whispered to Phil.  "I'm workin' some magic."  Phil nodded respectfully, then turned to pass the message on.
            "So," Kevin said, returning to his conversation with Dani.
            "So," Dani mimicked.  "So.  Evinque Epstinez."
            "So, Dani--  I'm sorry, I didn't catch your last name," Kevin stated invitingly.
            "Carmona," she replied.  "Dani Carmona."
            Kevin's heart began beating rapidly.  This was his chance.  "Uh," he said in a debonaire fashion, "what do you do?"
            She hesitated, suddenly looking bored; she'd caught the glint in his eye and had mistaken it for genuine interest.  "Nothing much," she replied after a moment.  "Maybe I should get going."
            Kevin panicked.  He was losing her.  "Why?" he whined.
            "I have stuff to do," she explained vaguely.  "I'm supposed to be looking for this guy."
            "Who is he?" Kevin demanded.  "I'm sure I'm way more..mucho..muy bueno than him!"
            "His name's Kevin," she replied.  "Kevin...  Something Jewish.  You know him?"  Kevin realized that she must have been talking about him, and quickly realized that he was not, in fact, any more or less mucho muy bueno than himself.  He'd caught himself in a lie.
            Amidst these dumb thought processes, Kevin had failed to notice Dani get up and leave.  He snapped back into reality just as she was leaving the bar and, without consulting his friends, Kevin quickly rose and followed her out.  The music cut off as he stepped out into the cold evening air.

* * *

            Dusk was setting in.  The outlines of shadows were barely visible against the dark streets.  Kevin shuffled along behind Dani, staying just out of sight.  She'd stopped a couple of times and glanced behind her suspiciously, but Kevin had always found a street lamp to climb or a manhole to jump into just before she spotted him.  Just as he was beginning to consider a career in private investigation and/or serial rape, he was tackled and laid out on the cement.
            "What the," Kevin slurred out dazedly, struggling to breathe.  He'd struck his head on the pavement, and the wind had been knocked out of him.  He finally recognized the silhouettes of a man and a woman standing above him.  The latter was Dani, the former DJ Socrates.  His toga had been discarded and beneath it hung a large pair of sagging black cargo shorts.
            "Hello, Kevin," the DJ said unpleasantly.  "My name is Ben."
            Kevin coughed.
            "Can I go home now?" Dani inquired of her brother.  He nodded silently and she slipped off into the night.
            "So," Ben continued.  "Just you and me at last."
            "Looks like it," Kevin said, trying to keep his cool and concentrate on breathing normally.  Ben foiled Kevin's plans by kicking him in the ribs.  Kevin gasped and coughed some more, clutching his chest.
            Ben sighed, then began to chuckle quietly.  "You were supposed to be much more...  Formidible," he commented.  Kevin realized Ben was right, so he leapt to his feet with a rad ninja move that simultaneously caught Ben with a kick to the stomach.  Ben doubled over in pain, and Kevin quickly hit him with a roundhouse to the top of the skull--or he would have if Ben hadn't suddenly been behind him.
            "What the--" Kevin was cut off from this sentence once more as Ben jabbed his fingers quickly into Kevin's throat.
            "That's called a stab," Ben said as Kevin clutched his throat, gasping for breath.  Ben stood there for a moment, dazedly miming more record scratching motions.  He then leapt gracefully through the air, performing a 180 arial and landing latched onto Kevin's back, wrapping his legs and arms around Kevin's own and limiting his capacity for limb movement.  They both fell face-first towards the pavement, but before they could hit, a rift opened in the ground beneath them.  They fell through.

* * *

            After the familiar feeling of temporary death, Kevin found himself in a hazy and mystical landscape.  He stood up with a grunt and looked around.  At his feet lie Ben, not yet recovered from what was likely his first jump.  Kevin placed his foot on the back of Ben's neck and pressed down firmly, restricting his vocal chords as he tried to groan.
            "Welcome back, Kevin," came a voice.  Kevin whirled around to find a hazy and mystical figure.  The figure chuckled; its voice sounded distant and yet came from all sides.  A faint echoing of it could be heard both before and after it spoke.  Kevin was trippin' balls.
            "Wh-who are you?" Kevin queried weakly.
            "Aw," the figure replied in a sympathetic tone.  "Don't you remember me?  Your old friend?"
            Kevin strained his memories of hazy and mystical figures he'd met in the past, but to no avail.  "No," he responded finally.  "Sorry."
            "I'll give you a hint," the figure said.  "You killed me last night."
            "You'll have to be more specific," said Kevin.
            "Two years ago.  The Buckingham Palace.  All those sheep," the figure went on, trying to jog Kevin's memory.  "I went to clown school in an effort to quell the horrors that haunted my mind relentlessly after that day, but it didn't work."
            Kevin got the feeling that things were starting to make both more and more and less and less sense simultaneously.
            "My mind never recovered, and neither did my body," the clown continued.  "Over the months I began developing strange...  'Attributes,' you could say:  My physical strength increased, my limbs grew to disproportionate lengths, I gained the ability to open rifts and shoot water from my lapel..."  He trailed off.
            Kevin remained respectfully silent.
            The clown sighed finally, then continued once more.  "But none of that matters anymore.  This morning you finally triumphed over me, and my new home is here:  The Land of the Dead."
            "Aahh," said Kevin, looking around in realization.  "I knew this place looked familiar."
            "Indeed," the clown replied.  "As it should."
            "So," Kevin said, turning back.  "You gonna kill me now?"  Ben was beginning to struggle to his feet.
            "No," the clown replied, placing a foot on Ben's back and shoving him forcefully back down into the hazy and mystical ground.  "I'm going to recruit you."
            "Isn't that like the same thing?" Kevin queried.
            "No, no, not to the Land of the Dead," the clown reprimanded, then sighed, hesitating while he worked out his dialogue in his mind.
            Kevin hesitated as well.  "To Clownhood?" he ventured after a brief moment.  The clown waved him quiet.
            "You see, while I was alive, those 'abilities' I spoke of warranted a tag by these guys," the clown said, poking Ben in the kidney with his hazy and mystical foot.  "The Carmonas.  All they ever do is run around trying to kill anyone with unusually great personal power.  I dunno what their deal is--I assume they're trying to become some sort of elite super-villain group or something, knocking out all competi--"
            "Heroes," Ben interjected from the ground.  "You all are the villains.  We're vigilantes; pro bono bounty hunters."
            "Shut up," the clown said, placing his foot over Ben's mouth and muffling his rhetoric.
            Kevin raised an eyebrow.
            "By the way," the clown said, extending his hazy and mystical hand.  "The name's Friedrich."

Chapter Fourteen
Dark Foreshadows

By Amedeus

            The clown’s name still rung in Kevin’s ears, even as the water passed over his face and his friends slapped him. When he realized someone was trying to wake him up, his eye jutted open and looked around menacingly before blinking heavily due to the second bucket of water that had been thrown on him at that very same moment.
            Kevin looked around and saw all his friends standing around him and a giant sign behind them that projected the name “Mike’s Pub” straight into his soggy retina. He came to the immediate realization that he hadn’t even made it out of the parking lot as he’d initially come to suspect. Instead, it seems he’d wandered outside after Dani and fallen drunkenly on his ass, passed out, and dreamt about…
            “Friedrich!” Kevin announced to a couple passers-by who began walking a little more briskly than they had been only a moment ago.
            “Hey Kev, are you alright?” Frank asked as he barged into the quiet space directly in front of Kevin’s face.
            Kevin fell backwards and drunkenly replied with, “Can’t sleep, clown will eat me.”
            “I love that episode!” Josh exclaimed with childish glee.
            “Don’t worry, Kev, it was just a bad dream,” Phil assured him, “We’re just gonna stand you up now and you’ll forget about it before you know it! Ready? Hup!” And with that, the four of them pulled Kevin up by his arms and steadied him onto his feet.
            “If you say so, I guess I’ll have to believe you,” Kevin deduced, “I’m too drunk right now to think on my own. Anything having dealt with clowns within the last hour must have just been a drunken nightmare! …Man, I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass, later,” he added, but shrugged it off. He was still very buzzed and didn’t want to ruin it with talks of impending mutant clown doom this time. Still though, it was probably time to go.
            He looked around for their car, and spotted it parked on the street. The moment he spied it, the driver’s side door fell into the middle of the road as though his very gaze was enough to push it over the edge. Hmm, I’ll be needing a different ride, he wisely concluded. His eye swept over the parking lot again and caught a man hobbling in a zig-zagging fashion up to a nearby car. The man put his key in the door’s lock and turned, but nothing happened. He looked down and saw that his key actually never made it in the lock, so he made a second attempt, paying careful attention this time.
            This try also failed, and so did several consecutive mulligans he took after that. Finally Kevin, the good upstanding citizen that he is, walked over and held out his hand in front of the man.
            “Sir, I’m going to have to ask for your keys. You’re entirely too drunk to drive right now,” he slurred. The man nodded in agreement, pulled out his keys, and handed them to Kevin before heading back inside to call a cab.
            “Sweet!” Kevin exclaimed, then opened the never-actually-locked door and placed himself inside. He gripped the wheel and made “V-R-R-R-R-OOOM!” noises with his mouth. His friends came over to see what was going on.
            “What’s going on?” Frank asked.
            “I’ve done all I can here. I must be moving on. Josh, you’re coming with me because you don’t have a home.”
            “I have a home,” Josh replied.
            “No you don’t, you live in a goddamn garbage can and you don’t have any parents and nobody ever loved you now get in my goddamn car!” Kevin barked. Josh did as he was told.
            “I like you, you’re alright,” Kevin told him, then turned to the others, “Phil and Tony, you guys can take the Tony-Can’t-Drive-Mobile back to the hideout and catch up with us later. Frank, who you ridin’ with?”
            “Whoever brings the cab,” he told Kevin, “I’m not nearly drunk, yet. I’ve still got work to do.” Kevin raised an eyebrow at him, and Frank explained that his high body mass means it takes longer for him to get drunk, but all Kevin heard was Lou Costello trying to explain math to him. And he didn’t pay attention to most of it, anyways.
            “Alright, catch you suckers later. Bitches,” Kevin said when he noticed that Lou had finally stopped talking. Kevin put the car into drive and started to leave. There was a yell from somewhere back near the pub, but Kevin readily ignored it. He tried to do a sweet peel-out but somehow messed it up and wound up doing an impromptu donut instead and, satisfied with this, took off into the night.
            After Kevin was safely out of earshot, Tony spoke up, “Did anybody ever see him actually take a drink?”

* * *

            After driving for several hours at speeds fast enough that police radars failed to register them at all, Kevin began to realize that he may be lost.
            “I have no idea where we are,” he finally told Josh.
            “Well, I’ve only been telling you that for the past three hours,” Josh reminded him.
            “No need to rub it in. What should we do?”
            “I’d make a suggestion, but you’d just ignore it,” Josh said. Kevin ignored this and decided that the reason he couldn’t figure out where anything was at was because it was night and he was used to driving in daylight. Kevin pulled the car into the first parking garage he found, took the little ticket out of the machine, found a spot, and parked the car for the night.
            “Let’s rest up and try and find our way in the morning,” he suggested.
            “Alright, I guess that,” Josh said with a little attitude in his voice. Kevin turned on the radio, but only heard the phrase “ancient, fossilized iPod Shuffle discovered around-” before falling asleep immediately.

* * *

            Kevin woke up the next morning fully rested and in a waiting room.
            “Wait, I shouldn’t be in a waiting room,” Kevin realized and furrowed his brow, “What is this?”
            A woman behind a counter nearby spoke up, “This is the waiting room for the dead. This is where you come when you die. It is here that we will determine where you will go in your afterlife, be it Heaven, Hell, rebirth, Nirvana, oblivion, Limbo, Purgatory, the Land of the Dead, or whatever else you may believe in.”
            “Oh,” Kevin said, taking all of this in, “Well, how do I get out of here?”
            “When your fate has been decided as per the guidelines set forth in your religion, we will call you up and have you step through this door here, and you will be transported to your afterlife” she told him, motioning towards the door next to her desk.
            “No, I mean, how do I get out of here, like as a whole. Where’s the other door?” Kevin inquired.
            “The only other door in here is the In Door, but you can’t go out that way. That’s only for entering.”
            Kevin looked at the door a few seats’ distance away from himself, directly across from what he suspected was the “Out” Door. The door suddenly swung open and an old man walked through. Kevin stood up to look out it, but although it was open, he couldn’t see through it from any angle. From this side, the door remained closed – whether it was closed or open. When the door closed again, Kevin walked up to it and tried the knob. It wouldn’t budge.
            “Sir, you cannot leave through that door. Not because it’s against the rules, but because it’s impossible,” the woman insisted, “The door simply will not open from this side, and when it opens from the other side it’s only possible to enter the room through it, not leave it.”
            Kevin wondered why they would bother putting a knob on the inside if it couldn’t open from this end, but decided that it was probably just for appearance. Kevin pushed and pulled on the door, putting all his weight into it both times. No dice. He slammed himself into the door. It wouldn’t budge.
            “Sir, please do not do that! You cannot open that door!”
            Kevin slammed again. He rattled the doorknob. He slammed again. He backed up to the other end of the room, crouched, and ran at full speed into the door. It failed to open.
            “Sir! I will not ask you again! Please sit down and wait for your afterlife!”
            He backed himself up to the Out Door and ran at the In Door again.
            “Sir!”
            He backed up and did it again.
            “Sir!”
            He backed up and readied himself again. The lady behind the counter continued yelling at him, and stood up as though she was going to come over and stop him herself. He didn’t wait for her. He ran at the door with all his might and just as he got to it, he pushed off the ground at it and condensed all of the power in his body into his shoulder and collided with the door and---!

* * *

            He sat up with a jolt and looked around. Josh was hovering over him looking serious and worried. He’d been lying on the ground of the parking garage next to the car, both doors of which were hanging wide open. His pants were slightly down in the back, as though he’d been dragged out of the car and across the ground to this spot. He looked at Josh and said, “Hey.”
            “Jesus, dude, what the hell?” he shouted back, “One moment you’re lying there motionless and asleep, the next moment you’re lying there having what looks like a heart attack!”
            “I had a heart attack?” Kevin asked rhetorically, “Cool.” He looked around and noticed another person lying behind the car. “Who’s that?” he asked, less rhetorically this time.
            Josh turned and looked, as though he hadn’t even noticed the person until Kevin pointed it out.
            “I have no idea,” he replied. They both got up and walked around to check it out. Kevin recognized the man immediately after studying him for a full minute.
            “It’s the drunken man from outside the bar, last night!” Kevin said, “At least, I think it is. I don’t know. My head hurts.”
            “He must have noticed you trying to make off with his car and grabbed onto the back before getting drunkenly stuck on the car… We must have pulled him the whole way here!” Josh deduced. Kevin looked at the body again.
            “So he was dragged to death?” he asked.
            “Actually…” Josh started, as though he was suddenly deep in thought, “It doesn’t look like it. There’re no signs of him having rubbed against the road at all, aside from this bit he probably got when you pulled in here. Actually, it looks like he died from this,” he pointed at two small holes in the man’s neck, “Extreme loss of blood.”
            “I recognize this pattern…” Kevin noticed, “Josh… This is a vampire bite.”
            “Are you sure?” Josh checked.
            “Deadly,” Kevin assured him.
            “Zing. So, damn. Now we have a vampire on the loose?”
            “Looks like it. Or several, even. Man, I hope this doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”
            “We should get out of here,” Josh decided, “You okay to drive, I mean having had a heart attack and all?”
            “Oh yeah. The heart attack,” Kevin remembered, “Man, I hope that doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass, either. In any case, yeah, I should totally be able to drive.”
            “Cool. Let’s go,” Josh said, and the two of them got back into the car and backed it out of the spot. Aside from that first huge bump, the ride to the exit was pretty smooth. They drove through the toll gate, causing the gate itself to fly out into the middle of the road, much to the dismay of the driver of the car already taking up that spot in the road.
            They hadn’t been driving for more than ten minutes before they had to stop at a light, since there were too many cars in front of them to jump and the sidewalks had too many more children than they could morally run over. As they sat, Kevin found himself becoming very antsy and impatient. Someone pulled up two lanes over with “Superstition” by Stevie Wonder playing at what seemed like a million decibels, and this seemed to calm Kevin down at least a bit.
            Then whoever was driving the car with it blasting changed the station over to some AM talk-radio station.
            Kevin leapt through the top of his car and ran over the roof of the one next to it. He immediately found the car with the offending lack of Stevie Wonder and tore the roof clean off of it.
            “How dare you, you ignorant bastard!? Don’t you know genius when you hear it!? How can you even stand to be around yourself!?” These were all questions that began firing out of Kevin’s mouth (among others) at the man he found within. Then he stopped, and asked one more: “Wait… Pete?”
            “What?” the man in the driver’s seat looked up at the mention of his name.
            “Pete, you’re blind! You of all people should have the utmost respect for Stevie and all of his musical geniosity!” he said, throwing in a made-up word to make himself sound smarter since his IQ usually suffered more depending on how enraged he became. He reached down and turned the knob until the song was playing again and was about to leave for his car when Pete spoke up.
            “Hey! I was listening to that!” he exclaimed, and turned the knob back to the talk-radio. This enraged Kevin such that he reached down and palmed Pete’s head. With a mighty heave, he lifted Pete out of the car, pulled back, and threw Pete through the wall of a nearby building – all in one unbroken motion.
            “Man,” he thought aloud after viewing the impressive hole he’d just created, “I hope that doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass, later.”
            Kevin walked back over the car and hopped down into his own heisted one just as the light turned green. As they pulled off, Kevin regained his cool composure and asked, “So what were we talking about?”
            “You just bet me ten bucks that Myst book technology could totally work in real life,” Josh replied, “And I bet you ten bucks that it totally couldn’t.”
            “Oh yeah. Man,” Kevin considered as he squinted at the morning sun in his eye, “I hope that doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.”

Chapter Fifteen
Roads Less Traveled

By Leus

            Kevin felt something biting him in the ass.  "Ow, balls!" he exclaimed.  "I should've known!"  Upon further endurance of the pain, though, it became apparent to Kevin that it was, in fact, not something biting his ass, but rather something burning the flesh off of his face.
            Josh glanced over.  A horizontal bar of smoking char was forming across Kevin's face.  As Kevin growled and nearly writhed in pain, Josh caught a glimpse of Kevin's teeth.  He then reached over and flipped the driver's side sun visor down.  Kevin ceased to writhe.
            "Whew," Kevin said, wiping his brow.  "Thanks, man."
            "No problem," Josh replied whole-heartedly.  "So, I guess you're a vampire now, eh?"
            "Looks like it," Kevin said, fingering his newfangled new fangs.  He then reached back and brushed his fingers along his neck; sure enough, he found two partially coagulated puncture wounds.  "Well, damn."
            "It's not so bad," Josh chimed in reassuringly.
           "You're right," Kevin said, his face lighting up as he sat forward inspiredly.  He then yelled in pain and laid back again, having accidentally leaned into the sun once more.  "Anyway, being a vampire probably won't be too bad, huh?  For one thing:  No more STDs!"
            "Can you even get a boner without blood flow?" Josh queried.
            Kevin frowned.  "Weren't you just trying to encourage me?" he whined.
            "Well I was thinkin' more along the lines of you can wear badass leather jackets and stuff," Josh proposed.
            "Hmm," Kevin hummed, his mind drifting to various wardrobe options.  He idly switched on his left turn signal.
            "What're you doin' man?" Josh snapped, reaching over and switching the turn signal back off.
            "Hey, come on, man," Kevin appealed.  "I know following traffic laws is totally gaysville, but I've got this eyepatch and I just had a heart attack and I'm a vampire now and I probably have a hangover, so I'm feeling a little cautious."
            "No, man," Josh said, letting Kevin finish his entire spiel.  "If you turn, you'll expose yourself to the sun again.  You happen to be driving in such a direction that you're completely shaded, but every turn and every moment of planetary rotation brings you that much closer to incineration.  We've gotta get somewhere dark, and fast!"
            "Uh oh," Kevin said, having already turned left.  His skin began to sizzle.
            "Turn!" Josh shouted.  "Turn right here!"
            "I can't!  It's one-way!" Kevin exclaimed.  His right ear burst into flame.
            "Shiiit!" Josh stated.
            "What?  What's happening?" Kevin requested concernedly.
            "Uh, nothin’," Josh assured.  He then reached over and helped himself to the car horn as someone cut them off.  "Goddamn city driving."
            They stopped at a red light.  "Come on, come on!" Kevin urged impatiently.
            "Go, man!" Josh commanded.  "Right on red!"
            "Nuh uh!" Kevin retorted, pointing at a sign next to the traffic lights.  "See?  'NO RIGHT TURN.'"
            "'BETWEEN 5 PM AND 7 PM!'" Josh finished.  "It's just for rush hour!"
            "Ah, hell," Kevin said.
            "Go!" Josh barked.  Kevin slammed the gas pedal to the floor and wrenched the wheel to the right.  He busted a burnout-drift right turn. 
            "Anyway," said Kevin, his ear still smoldering, "this all still doesn't explain everything; my "heart attack," the body--vampires don't suffer memory loss, so if I killed the guy I'd know.  The only way it would make sense, then, would be if--" Kevin's unfinished thought was completed eloquently as the dead man from the parking garage punched his fist through the back window.
            "Holy hell!" Josh exclaimed.  "Has he just been chillin' back there the entire time?  What was he holding onto?"
            "We don't have time for logistics, man!" Kevin declared urgently.  "Stuff's happening!  Look at it!"
            Sure enough, the man crawled through the shattered glass and into the vehicle.  Kevin turned around to punch him in the face, but had to correct his steering before he could get a fist off.  As he turned away he caught a glint from the man's fangs out of the corner of his eye.
            "Augh!" Josh choked as the vampire grabbed him by the collarbone.  Since it was totally gaysville to wear a seatbelt, Josh wasn't, and he was dragged up and back over the seat.  Kevin grabbed Josh's liver and attempted to pull him back to the front by the side.
            "I've read about this!" Kevin yelled.  "If you wanna show him who's boss, just stick your finger up his ass."
            "That's supposed to be for dog attacks," Josh said, "and I doubt it even works then."
            "Huh?" Kevin said confusedly
            "Nevermind," Josh said, getting back to being attacked.  The vampire bit Josh's neck, and Josh wailed in pain.  Kevin spotted another parking garage and busted another sweet-ass drift right into the entrance.  The momentum caused the vampire to be thrown from the back window and down the street in the direction they'd originally been driving.  Kevin screeched to a stop.
            Josh touched his neck tenderly, wincing on contact.  He drew his fingers before his eyes and found blood dripping from them.  "Don't you have to do like some huge ritual where you have to drink their blood too and--" Kevin cut Josh off.
            "That's an old wives’ tale," Kevin reprimanded condescendingly.  "Don't be so naive; REAL vampires need only bite you and you become one of them."
            "Well damn!" said Josh.
            "That's what I said," Kevin said.  He suddenly furrowed his eyebrows and clenched his eyes and teeth shut, clutching a hand over his solar plexus and groaning quietly.
            "What's wrong?" Josh inquired, trying not to panic about his impending fate.
            Kevin opened his eyes and looked at Josh.  "I'm hungry."
            Josh raised an eyebrow of his own at this suggestion, then nodded in silent agreement.

* * *

            Phil parked the Tony-Can't-Drive-Mobile outside Tony's lair.  As they sauntered up to the door, Tony raised a finger in realization.  "Wait a sec," he said.  "Why'd we leave the pub just 'cause Kevin suggested it?  Nothing more is going on here than there."
            "Ah, well," Phil said with a shrug.  "We might as well just chill here now."
            "I guess I can't argue with that," Tony agreed.  The two plopped down opposite each other in a dining booth.  After a moment Phil sighed.
            "Man," said Phil.  "We're probably never gonna see those guys again."
            Tony frowned.  "You don't think so?" he inquired.
            "Nah," Phil confirmed.  "We just got ditched."
            "Well that sucks," Tony said, cradling his chin in both palms.
            "Yeah," Phil confirmed again.  "I was really gettin' to like those guys."
            "Eh, I don't know," Tony said, his voice wavering.  "They weren't that great."  His voice cracked on the last word, and he quickly turned his face towards the wall.
            Phil shifted uncomfortably for at least the second time that evening.  Tony continued to choke back tears.  "So, uh," Phil began.  "Should we get some food?"
            Tony sniffed.  "Yeah," he whimpered.  "I'll do spaghetti."
            "Classic," Phil said, rising from his seat to go prepare their meal in the kitchen.
            They ate together in silence and went to bed early--both feeling abandoned and betrayed--and didn't awake until late the next morning when there came a knock at the door.

* * *

            "Woo!  Where tha party at?" Frank inquired of a pair of females sauntering past.  They ignored him.  "Alright!"  He took the last sip of his current kiwitini--those mothers were good--then staggered to the bar for another.
            "Hi, there," a girl said to Frank after he'd placed the order.  He turned to face her.  She had short blonde hair and light green eyes that sparkled with the flashing lights of the club.  She wore a short black dress with a single shoulder strap.
            "Woo!" he cheered in her face.  "Where the party at?"
            "Right here," she said, glancing down at her clenched fist.  Frank continued to stare at her blankly, so she alternated eye contact with looking at her fist a couple more times.  Finally, Frank took the cue and glanced down.  She opened her hand and in her palm lie a small, yellow pill with an engraved smiley face.
            "Whoa," Frank said in amazement.
            "Care for a free sample?" she offered generously.
            Frank crinkled his nose hesitantly.  "I dunno," he said in an unsure and drawn-out fashion.
            Without another word, she calmly opened her mouth slightly and ejected her tongue.  She placed the tablet on the end of her tongue, then gazed deep into Frank's eyes.  Frank gasped.  Leisurely, fluidly, she leaned in towards Frank, her eyes slowly shutting as she drew ever nearer.  Frank was too drunk for this crap, so he gave in and thrust his face into hers, kissing her violently.  He felt her tongue graze gracefully against his teeth, causing the yellow tablet to transfer host mouths.  She then drew back and looked at him with a subtle smile.  Frank stared back in a stupor.  At that moment his kiwitini arrived, and he idly grabbed it and took a sip.  The woman then smiled victoriously and, after a final seductive glance, turned and disappeared into the crowd.
            "Shiiit," he said aloud.  He looked around for a moment.  Everything seemed normal so far.  He took a deep breath.
            He let his gaze wander to the dance floor.  There were several people upon it flailing glowsticks, lighters, and even cell phone screens and electronic key fobs for their impromptu light shows.  "Looks like fun," Frank thought.
            After nearly an hour of nervous anticipation, Frank turned his head a bit too fast and the colors of the club blurred around him.  "Sweeeet!" Frank elated.  Suddenly the beat began pulsating to the rhythm of Frank's soul.  Frank whirled to face the DJ's booth, the lights all around him swirling into a giant, unified projection.  Upon laying eyes on the booth, though, Frank found the DJ missing.  Frank felt abandoned and betrayed; how could the keeper of the rhythm of the universe leave his post?  Frank was offended.
            "Hey," Frank addressed some girl that happened to be walking by.  "Would you mind blowing gently on my face?"  The girl obliged Frank's request, and it was awesome.  "Thanks," he said, dismissing her.  They went their separate ways.
            Frank was grinning uncontrollably by this point.  He found himself stepping out onto the dance floor.  After several seconds of rigorous dancing, Frank was thirstier than the Sahara.  He walked up to the bar and bought a $2 bottle of water, quickly guzzling it dry.  He bought four more bottles then hit the dance floor once more and didn't step off again.

* * *

            Frank woke with a pounding headache.  After a few moments of grunting, groaning and eye-rubbing, Frank surveyed his surroundings.  It seemed he was, in fact, still on the dance floor.  However, much fewer people were there than he recalled.  He glanced at a window and found sunlight seeping in.  He wondered what time it was, but wearing a watch was totally gaysville, so he didn't know.
            "Excuse me," a man said, addressing Frank.
            Frank looked up from his position on the floor.  The man had a shaved head, a goatee, and was wearing a white jacket over a red shirt.  "What's up?" Frank inquired after remembering it was in general practice to respond to queries directed at one's self.
            "I was wondering if you happened to know the location of any local organized crime...  Organizations?" the man requested.
            "You're in luck, my friend," said Frank.  "Tony's lair is just down the street."  He gave the man directions.
            "Thanks," the man said gratefully.  He turned to leave.
            "Hey," Frank called after him.  The man turned back around.  "You wouldn't happen to be holdin' would you?"
            The man smiled.  "You don't think I make money walkin' around askin' about crime lords, do you?" he asked rhetorically.  He then reached into his pocket and pulled out three plastic bags full of various pills.  "This right here," he said, pointing to a bag of multi-colored tablets, "is just your regular, run-of-the-mill X.  Ten bucks a pop.  These," he said, moving on to a bag of capsules.  "are mollies.  Pure, uncut MDMA.  Guaranteed for a long, clean high, and only five bucks more.  And this," he said, moving onto the final bag, "is acid.  Ten bucks."
            Frank stared wide-eyed at this buffet of drugs.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.  After the previous night, $42.01 remained.  "Nice," Frank said aloud.  "Where'd I get all this cash?"
            "Who knows?  The important thing is that you have it," the man stated a matter of fact.  "So, what'll it be?"
            "Ah, hell," Frank said, glancing back and forth between his options.  The man waited patiently.  "Alright," Frank said finally.  "Let me get two mollies and a hit of LSD."
            "I have  ‘shrooms, too, by the way," the man added.
            "How much?" Frank inquired.
            "Fifteen bucks an eighth," the man replied.
            "Perfect," said Frank.  "I'll do one of each."  The man pulled one capsule apiece from the two remaining bags before pocketing the rest.  He then reached into another pocket and withdrew a small bag of the magic fungus, as promised.  Frank accepted the items, then reached into his wallet and gave the man his every last penny--ESPECIALLY his last penny.
            The man smiled and nodded wordlessly, then turned and walked to the door.  Frank gazed at the various intoxicating substances in his palm, preparing to embark on an exploratory journey in the realm of the mind.

* * *

            KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
           Phil woke with a start, snorting and almost choking.  He wiped some drool from his cheek.  "Who's there?" he called.
            "Banana!" a voice replied.
            Phil raised an eyebrow.  "Banana who?"
            KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
            "Who's there?" Phil reiterated.
            "Banana!" the voice reiterated in turn.
            "Banana WHO?" Phil demanded.
            KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
            Phil narrowed his eyes.  Something wasn't right here.  "Who's there?" he inquired cautiously after a brief hesitation.
            "Orange!" the voice called back.
            Phil's heart began to race.  Who was at the door?  Banana?  Orange?  Someone else?  There was no way of knowing.  He took a deep breath before finally responding.  "Orange who?"
            "ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN'T SAY BANANA?" the voice bellowed.  "Aahahaahh!"
            "Oohh," Phil said.  "I get it."  He'd heard that one before.  He walked over and opened the door, revealing a couple on the doorstep.  The man was bald and wore a white jacket.  The woman had short blonde hair and a little black dress with sparkles.  Both sported snazzy pairs of crimson tea shades which they removed before stepping inside.  Tony also entered from the back room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
            "Nice place," the man said.
            "Thanks," Tony jumped in, walking up to the group.  "Who are you?"
            "My name is Raoul," the man said, extending a hand towards Tony.
            Tony took it and shook firmly.  "Tony," he said.
            "I'm Nikki," the woman said, stepping forward and extending a hand of her own.
            Tony grasped it delicately in his own and shook.  "Charmed, I'm sure," he said.  "This is Phil."  He indicated Phil, and Phil shook hands with the duo in turn as well.
            "Well," Raoul began, "let me just cut right to the chase:  You guys are part of an organized crime syndicate here, correct?"
            "Actually, we pretty much ARE the syndicate here," Phil corrected.  "Everyone else is dead."
            "Ah," Raoul said, smiling.  "So you’ve got nothing better to do, then?"
            Phil and Tony exchanged a quizzical look.  "Better than what?" Tony inquired.
            "I represent a group known as the Templar, the second biggest and first covertest covert organized crime organization in the world," Raoul explained.
            "Who's the first?" Phil asked.
            "The CIA, of course," Nikki interjected.
            "We're much older, though," Raoul continued.  "Started in the eleventh century, although our direction has changed significantly since then."
            "Yeah, we take things slow and controlled," Nikki took over.  "We've spent centuries building our foundations around the globe, and we're still growing.  We've got big plans; the course of humanity itself might soon change drastically by our hands.  We're recruiting delegates in as many locations as possible to prepare."
            "And that's where you come in," Raoul interjected once more.  "We extend to you an offer to join the Templar and rise to glory with us."
            Tony and Phil shot skeptical glances at one another, then looked back to their solicitors.
            "What're these alleged 'big plans' you'll be 'rising to glory' on?" Phil inquired finally.
            "You'll learn soon enough," Nikki replied ominously.
            Tony sighed.  "Well, hell," he said, turning to face Phil.  "I mean, they said it:  nothing else is goin' on.  The family's fallen apart, Kevin and his group are gone, what have we got to lose?"
            "I guess you're right," Phil agreed.
            "Alright," said Tony, turning back.  "We accept."

Chapter Sixteen
Staring at the Sun

By Amedeus

            Meanwhile, Kevin still exists.
            A voice came from inside the car and floated through the broken back window to Kevin and Josh’s vampiric ears. “Hey, I’m feeling quite famished myself,” it said. Kevin and Josh turned towards the car and witnessed something they hadn’t even considered before this moment: a vampire rising up in the backseat of their car and peering at them from behind where the glass used to be.
            He opened the door, got out of the door, closed the door again, and walked over to the duo. “Hi!” he greeted them with, “I’m Eric!”
            “Uh,” Kevin started, “…Hi? What are you doing in, er, my car?”
            “Oh, hiding mostly. Then biting you guys. Well, one of you guys. I don’t know why both of you are vampires. Did that other guy get one of you?” he asked them sincerely.
            “Yeah,” Kevin answered, “But… why were you hiding? You’re a vampire, what’s going to harm you other than stakes, silver, the sun, and bullets to the brain?”
            “Oh, lots of things,” Eric said in a suddenly serious tone, “Vampire hunters, mainly. But after I bit that other guy, I heard one of you yelling and then getting out of the car, so I ran around the other side and then back around to the side you got out on and hid in the car. I didn’t think you’d get back in so quickly. Then you took off and I couldn’t very well leap out or I’d be toast. So to speak.”
            “Wait, so you’re the reason, directly and indirectly, that we’re both vampires!” Josh realized with equal parts rage and horror.
            “No! Well, yes! But don’t think of it like that! I mean, there are many perks to being a vampire!” now he donned an excited but informative manner of speaking, “For instance, immortality! Or well, to the point that you won’t die of old age. And hey, strokes and heart attacks are out, too! So you can eat as much as you want and get really fat! No, well, I guess you can’t eat. Or maybe you can, but you won’t want to, so you probably won’t anyways. But you can drink all the blood you want! Just keep to the shadows, because sunlight can kill you, and so can people who see you coming. I mean, if they have stakes or silver or anything. Oh, but garlic is safe! Unless you don’t like garlic, then I guess stay away from it. I think it’s delicious, though. I did when I still liked food, anyways. So it doesn’t scare me off. I think really Catholic vampires are afraid of crosses, but most vampires lose all religion by the end of the first or second month, so that’s usually not a problem. Um. Any questions?”
            “Yeah, one. If we’re not allowed to go out in the sun, how are we supposed to get out of here to eat?” Josh pointed out, “I’m hungry now, I’m not waiting until nightfall. I’ll get bored!”
            “Well… I’m not sure, I mean some guys use the sewers, but I’m pretty sure the closest hole we could fit through is out in the street, and you wouldn’t make it that far… it’s a little ways down there,” Eric told them, trying his best to be helpful.
            “Well, DAMN!” Kevin shouted with uncontrollable hunger, slamming his fist into the back of the car as he did so. The front of the car rose up and crashed back down and the combined force of both sides’ beatings caused the trunk to pop open and reveal the biggest stash of packing peanuts any of them had ever seen outside of a warehouse. They worked together to pull all the peanuts out and see if they could find anything within their ranks, but all they came up with was two lawn chairs, two umbrellas, two changes of clothes, and a grill. They opened the grill and flipped it over in the trunk and several once-frozen but now-defrosted steaks fell out along with a pack of old hot dogs. They threw the grill aside and thought about what now lay before and around them.
            “We could probably use the umbrellas to shade ourselves,” Josh suggested helpfully. Kevin quickly turned this idea down.
            “There’re only two umbrellas but three of us, and we can’t share,” he told them, “I don’t know about you, but I’m not letting anybody else hold my umbrella. What if they turn left and I don’t know it and suddenly I’m standing there in flames like a jackass? No thanks.”
            “Well we can at least change out of these stupid outfits, now,” Josh said, a little let down now.
            “True. I never thought I’d be so happy to see jeans and t-shirts,” Kevin replied thoughtfully. They went on opposite sides of the car and changed out of their dorky costumes so they could finally conform along with everybody else. As they finished, they congregated back with Eric at the trunk and immediately ran out of things to talk about.
            “Man,” Josh threw out there, hoping to stir up some conversation, “I wish there were some way we could get out of here without being burnt to a crisp.”
            “Yeah, if only we didn’t need an extra umbrella,” Kevin added, effectively keeping the dialogue alive for a moment longer. And just as soon as that moment passed, a long, pointy, silver object that looked like a railroad spike flew by at Fast MPH, just barely missing hitting Kevin in the head.
            Eric, however, was not so lucky. It jutted directly through his forehead, with a force that caused his head to start moving backwards at the same speed, and his body to instinctively follow. His body, however, was immediately stopped by the open trunk that met with his waist, causing his momentum to swing downwards over it, flinging his head back (with a particularly sickening “snap”) and finally nailing it ironically to a steak and the bottom of the trunk.
            Josh and Kevin’s eyes widened as they looked down at their former new friend and then shot in the direction the stake had come from and saw a man dressed in a long black coat walking towards them while reloading some stake/crossbow hybrid gun. They seized the moment to take advantage of their now-solved umbrella quantity issue, grabbed the umbrellas, and ran for the exit. The man in black gave chase.
            When they reached the edge of daylight, they popped the umbrellas open and ran outside. The vampire that fell off of their car earlier leapt out in front of them. He was badly charred and looked like a walking silhouette, having been in the sun completely engulfed in flames for quite some time now. His lust for vengeance had allowed him to persist more than anything. He lunged at Kevin, who spun in a circle and swung his umbrella at the fiery vampire as he ran by, causing the vampire to stumble towards the man in black, who now had a ready-loaded stakebow thing. And he didn’t hesitate one bit to raise it and shoot the vampire precisely in the heart.
            Apparently, his aim was very good.
            Kevin patted out the small fire that had resulted on his neck and looked back. The man in black started gaining on our heroes, but they were still able to maintain their own speed. Not being alive means not getting tired quite so fast. Kevin looked back again and saw that the man had readied another stake and that it was pointed directly at his head. He looked back at Josh, and realized that the stake was lined up to go through both of their heads. As soon as he heard the quick, metal scrape of the stake being throttled towards them, he dove at Josh, pulling him to the ground. The back of Josh’s head caught fire, as did Kevin’s. They tried to roll to put it out, but this only served to catch their faces on fire, as well.
            They both stood up, got safely under the shade of their umbrellas and started to run again. Though, while Josh continued to run in the direction they were already headed, Kevin ran back the way from whence they came – back towards the man in black. The man tried to load another stake before Kevin could get there, but Kevin was too fast. He plowed into the man like a quarterback, and they both fell to the ground. The man took out the stake he was trying to load into the gun and attempted to shank Kevin with it, but to no avail. Kevin was still too fast. He rolled out of the way, umbrella still in his hand, albeit no longer covering him. He held it out in front of himself like a shield.
            They stood and squared off, walking around each other slowly. The man in black holding the stake, Kevin holding the umbrella – and completely on fire. He quickly dismissed this by flexing so hard that the fire was completely repelled from his body and became nothing but smoke in the air.
            The man in black lunged at Kevin, who promptly stepped out of the way like a matador. Kevin was unscathed, though his umbrella now had a large gash in it. The man came at him another time, but this time Kevin swung to the side and leapt on the man’s back after he passed by. He tried pulling the umbrella’s handle tightly against the man’s neck to choke him to death, or at the very least make him pass out. The man had dropped his stake, but slowly reached with all his might to grab another one from his pocket. He nearly passed out several times, but he was as strong-willed as the blazing vampire he’d recently killed.
            Kevin bit him in the neck, and the man began his transformation right then and there. The man laughed.
            “You’ve just signed your own death sentence!” he choked out, “When I’m a vampire, this won’t effect me at all and I’ll just come back for you!”
            Kevin took this as a sign that he wasn’t pulling the umbrella nearly hard enough and pulled it tighter. But the man had finally managed to get a hold of a stake and swung it back at Kevin. The stake missed Kevin’s head, but this time it still hit him. It ripped through his shirt and cut him at an angle across the upper-left side of his chest. The silver caused the wound to react oddly, and even steam a bit, but it would probably leave a really cool scar in the long run. The searing pain caused Kevin to fall off of the man. The man coughed once. It was all he had time for.
            The moment Kevin hit the ground, he gripped the umbrella in his right hand and crushed the bottom of the handle into a pointed stake with his left. He hadn’t been lying there for more than a single second before he launched back up towards the man, and rammed the umbrella straight into his back and through his heart. The man coughed once more now, but for a completely new reason. He fell to his knees, still with his chest, head, and umbrella-stake pointing towards the sky. The man’s whole body shuddered with pain, surprise, and death’s approach.
            Kevin realized he was holding his right arm now. It was certainly in a lot of pain. But there were no visible wounds. The last thing that Kevin saw before he passed was his entire body once again going up in flames.

* * *

            Before the meeting could go on any further, a knock came from the door. Raoul motioned towards it.
            “May I?” he asked.
            “Please,” Tony answered, graciously motioning as if to offer the door to Raoul as some sort of strange gift. Raoul opened the door and found the other side to be occupied by a man in a business suit, holding a large briefcase by his side.
            “Hello,” Raoul greeted the gentleman, “Who may I say is calling?”
            “Just a man on business, my friend, just a man on plain as day business.” He held up his briefcase and tapped it a couple times to indicate “business”. “Might I come in?” he added. Raoul looked at Tony, and Tony nodded. After all, he might have something good for them and, if he didn’t, they could always kill him and toss him out back.
            The man strolled through, greeting each person he passed on the way to a table on the other side of the room. He set his briefcase down on the table and turned to face the quizzical and irritated faces whose domain he had entered.
            “Now,” he began, “I have a very lucrative business proposition for you gentlemen, ah, and lady. Now, it is my job to seek out those organizations, ventures, and other such gatherings that step a bit too far beyond certain… boundaries of society, as it were.”
            He turned to open his briefcase. The others in the room exchanged skeptical looks while he wasn’t facing them. He turned back holding several pages of documents covered in long, boring words.
            “Now,” he began once again, “I would like to offer you gentlemen the chance to give back to the neighborhood and help everyone out. You see, there is a specific organization in this area that is dragging everybody right down along with it. The children are suffering, hell, even the adults are suffering. Most businesses shy away from this location, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
            “And what do you want from us?” Raoul asked, trying to take charge here.
            “Just your consent, my friend. All I ask is for the signature of the owner here on a couple forms to show that you support me doing whatever it takes to get rid of this pestilence,” he said, and held out the forms as a sort of visual aid in case the point hadn’t gotten across and added, “That’s all.”
            “Well…” Tony thought about it for a moment, “I do support the community, and I wouldn’t want everyone to have to leave or whatever’ll happen... Alright, I’ll sign it.”
            “Good, good!” the man exclaimed, visibly pleased by this response, “You have no idea how much easier this makes my job! I just need you to sign here… here… and here.” Tony signed each of the indicated lines without much problem. The man turned back towards his briefcase and began to file the papers away.
            “What exactly is it you do, Mr… well. Mister,” Raoul asked, “In layman’s terms, please.”
            “In layman’s terms?” the man repeated, then lifted the bottom of the inside of his briefcase, revealing a secret compartment normally hidden underneath all of his papers. As his body was blocking the briefcase, nobody could see what he kept in this compartment. Raoul’s eyes narrowed. “My job is to locate and identify criminal organizations and shut them down. By any. Means. Necessary.”
            Raoul’s eyes widened.
            The man turned around holding out two large semi-automatic pistols in front of himself, and they were pointed at Raoul and Nikki. In this brief time, Tony glimpsed these weapons. The one in his right hand was made of the most beautiful polished silver Tony had ever seen in his life, and the word “HAMMER” had been engraved into the side of it. The one in the man’s left hand was made from gold so pure, Tony wasn’t sure it even existed. He couldn’t see an engraving on the side facing him, but he was sure that if he looked on the other side, he would definitely find one.
            “Bang, bang,” the man said, and proceeded to pull both triggers. Raoul and Nikki both dove out of the way just in the nick of time. Nikki was unharmed, though a bullet grazed Raoul’s arm as he was moving. Tony ducked behind the bar in the corner, while Raoul and Nikki found refuge behind an overturned table and a sofa, respectively.
            Even though Tony had been the one to sign the papers, the man singled Raoul out as the brains here and set himself towards a goal of taking him out first. He fired both clips into the table, while Raoul tried to predict the shots ahead of time and move where they wouldn’t hit before each of them broke through. Surprisingly, it worked. Once the man was out of bullets, Raoul stood up and ran for the sofa, pulling his own firearm out as he did so.
            The man changed both clips in record time. He aimed both of them at the sofa and waited for a moment. Raoul sat at the very end and, assuming the man was still reloading, leaned out and fired twice at him. He was wrong however, and had to throw himself back behind the chair when the man began firing at him, again. Nikki had her own weapon out, and the two looked at each other for a moment, then nodded. Nikki raised her gun and began blind-firing it in the man’s direction. Raoul leaned back out and shot at him again. The man shot first at Nikki’s hand, then upon seeing Raoul’s face, turned and shot at him instead. All shots missed.
            They tried this once again, and once again not a single shot hit its mark. Tony poked his head to see what he was missing and saw that the bullets were made of the same materials as the guns. Those’re some expensive armaments he’s got there… Tony thought, He must be really good at his business.
            This time, Raoul poked his head out first and fired, then Nikki right after. Just to throw the man off. It didn’t work, and the man nearly blew a hole threw Raoul’s head. Fortunately, one of Nikki’s ricochets hit the leg of an end table and knocked it over in front of Raoul’s face before the bullet could reach him. Nikki suddenly spoke up for the first time in the last twenty minutes.
            “He’s out,” she said, succinctly. Raoul nodded and Nikki stood up and aimed her gun at the man. Raoul ran out from around the sofa and grabbed the man by the collar. Nikki walked up to the man and cautiously took his guns from him and backed away, her weapon aimed at his head the entire time. Raoul threw him to the ground and pointed his own gun at the man’s head. He cocked it. He meant business, and the man could see this.
            “Wait! …Wait,” the man said, stopping Raoul just in time, “I can see my services are unwanted here. I can take a hint. I will leave quietly. If I may?” He motioned towards the door. Raoul looked at him for a long time. Tony stood up from his hiding spot and joined the three in the middle of the room. Raoul finally gave in and motioned towards the door with his gun, but kept it trained solidly on the man until he was out of the house.
            “May I have my things?” the man asked politely. Nikki handed the man’s guns to Raoul, who threw them haphazardly into the briefcase, locked it up, and handed it to the man.
            “Thank you,” the man added, just as politely, “Of course, I will be back. I’m afraid in my line of work, I can’t leave anything unfinished. But until then, I will bid you adieu. Ah – my card!” He put down his briefcase, reached into his breast pocket – Raoul kept his finger ready on the trigger – and pulled out a small business card and handed it to Raoul. With this, he picked up his briefcase once more, tipped his hat, and walked off down the street. Nikki walked over and closed the door. The two looked at the card.
            “What part of that was lucrative?” Tony wondered aloud to the others, who decidedly weren’t listening. They handed the card to him. Phil walked in the room with the glass of water he’d left to get.
            “Hey guys!” he said cheerfully to them all, “Did I miss anything?”
            Tony gave him a concerned look, then looked down at the business card in his hand. There was no large, eye-catching heading. There were no logos or illustrations of any kind. There was no phone number and no address. There were merely two lone words:

Maxwell, Businessman

* * *

            Kevin found himself once again in the waiting room.
            “Dammit, am I dead?” he asked nobody in particular.
            “Yes, you are,” a familiar voice informed him, “Welcome to The Waiting Room.”
            “But what did I die of? That silver scrape?”
            “Let me see here… it seems you died of a heart attack.” She looked up and when she saw who it was she was talking to, she added, “…Again.”
            “Well, that’s not right. I’m a vampire. Or… was a vampire. When I was alive, I was distinctly vampiric. And vampires don’t have heart attacks.”
            “True. Vampires don’t have heart attacks, and according to this you were a vampire at the time of your death. But you also somehow died of a heart attack.”
            “Damn. Well, it looks like… I have no idea what it looks like. I’m a vampire who dies of heart attacks. Go figure. In any case, I’m out of here. Be seein’ ya… well, hopefully not. No offense.”
            “Sir, please do not do this.”
            Kevin prepared himself this time, both mentally and physically. He backed up to the Out Door and stared at the In Door. He zenned out on it for a full minute and, when he was finally ready, he charged!

* * *

            “Cool! Eat it, death!” Kevin announced upon waking up in the middle of the street. Josh was once again hovering over him, holding an umbrella over the both of them. Kevin noted that he was covered in shoeprints, but was clearly not on fire so this was a forgivable offense.
            “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Josh asked, obviously miffed about the whole Kevin dying then undying repeatedly thing.
            “Ha, good to be back, little buddy.”
            The two stood up and noticed a large shadow moving towards them. Looking up, they found that it was coming from a very large, somewhat oval-shaped thing flying in the sky high above them. The shadow was moving along the street they were on, so they put the umbrella down for a spell and followed the very welcome shade.
            Of course, as they followed, they wondered what the thing providing this shade could possibly be. It seemed so familiar, but neither could come up with any purpose that it could serve. By the time they reached the manhole, neither of them had any clue what it was. But if they ran into it later, and it was night, by George they were going to find out. They opened the manhole and climbed in before the shade passed, remembering to close it up again before they moved downwards. They reached the bottom, and one thing became clear from the get-go:
            This place was big.

Chapter Seventeen
Truth or Justice

By Leus

            "Oohh," said Kevin as Josh lit a match.  The huge place Kevin perceived had actually been the vast, all-encompassing darkness surrounding him.  The light now made it apparent that the corridor was, in fact, quite narrow.  They took a few steps in a random direction, then stopped.
            "Do we even have any idea where we are?" Josh inquired.
            Kevin patted Josh's head.  "Of course," he replied patronizingly.  "We're in the sewer system."
            Josh sighed in preparation for a response, but mid-breath he realized he was inhaling copious amounts of poo air.  He stopped, choked, gagged, then puked.  "Ugh..." he said wearily.
            "Classy," said Kevin.
            "Anyway," Josh continued, "that's not what I mean.  We were driving aimlessly for hours before we ended up wherever the hell we are.  Do you have any idea where that might be?"
            Kevin pondered this query for a moment.  All of a sudden they heard a loud thud from close behind.  They whirled around, and Josh's match went out.  As Josh was fumbling with another, Kevin spoke.  "Who's there?" he dubiously inquired of the darkness.
            "Don't worry, it's just me!" a voice ensured enthusiastically.  "Me being Eric, that is.  I guess you can't really see me yet, but fear not, your vampire eyes will learn to scan the darkness much more efficiently as time goes on."
            "As time goes on..." Eric's words reverberated in Kevin's mind.  The notion hit him hard and suddenly like a drunk husband:  He could be a vampire for the rest of his life--or lack thereof, as one might argue.
            "Damnit!" Josh exclaimed, followed by a tiny splash.  "I dropped the matches in the sewage."
            "Classic," said Kevin, forgetting about his haunting contemplations almost immediately.
            Then there was a slight awkward pause as the three stood there blind as Pete.
            "Waaait a second," Kevin declared suspiciously.  "What the hell was Pete doin' driving?"
            "So, Eric," Josh began casually, ignoring Kevin's random outbursts like usual.  "Where you from?"
            "Here.  Well, not here originally, but I've lived here almost a decade now," he explained, then amended--with the visual aid of air quotes, forgetting that no one could see--"well, 'lived.'"
            "Where's here in relation to where we came from?" Kevin demanded calmly.
            Eric cocked his head wordlessly.
            "Where's here?" Josh made a second attempt at Kevin's inquiry.
            "Check it out," said Eric, and a small square of light suddenly pierced the darkness.  The light moved towards Josh as Eric took a step in his direction.
            "Is that a Blackberry®?" Josh inquired, intrigued.
            "Sure is," Eric replied proudly.  "Just 'cause I was born in the nineteenth century and died in the early twentieth doesn't mean I can't be technologically savvy.  Look."
            Josh leaned in.  "Damn, you've got GPS on there?" he inquired non-genuinely, seeing the answer clearly before his eyes.
            "And it even works underground," Eric said, making a brief sweep around the area with his glowing Blackberry®.
            "Well let's see then.  According to this, we're about," Josh paused to calculate.  "Four minutes from home."
            "Blast!  We've been going in circles!" Kevin shouted, pounding his fist on the sewer wall.  The brick he struck gave way beneath the blow, and a loud click was heard, followed by a heavy stone scraping.  After a brief moment of confused silence, a light appeared before Kevin, approaching from the secret corridor he'd just accidentally opened in the wall.
            "Greetings," a voice said, its speaker's face coming into view behind the torch she was carrying.
            "Salutations," Kevin responded, then glanced over at Eric, who was now visible.  He had a particularly nasty hole through his forehead.  Josh and Kevin both saw it and drew in a synchronized breath through clenched teeth.
            "That's Meredith," Eric interjected.  "She's one of the high councilmen--well, councilpeople, I suppose."
            "What council?  What?" Kevin asked, unnecessarily bewildered.
            "Well, you see," Eric began, "we actually have quite a community of--"
            "Thank you, Eric," the woman said, motioning for silence with a raised hand.  "I am Meredith, and you seem to be newfangs.  Welcome to the Colony."
            "We call it that 'cause it's like an ant colony," Eric explained, ignoring Meredith’s cue. "Tunnels stretching and weaving for miles.  Thousands of miles, in fact.  The Colony covers nearly one hundred and fifty square miles and was built when the European colonists inadvertently brought vampires to the east shores of America hundreds of years ago.  The vampires began construction on their subterranean haven, but were banished from this world in the early 1900's, and the tunnels were never finished--although I don't see how they ever could have been.  There's potential for infinite expansion down here, in my humble opinion."
            "Huh," said Kevin interestedly.
            "Yup," Eric confirmed.  "And now that you've let us back into this world, we've taken residence back up here."
            "Eric!" Meredith snapped harshly.  Eric glanced at her apologetically, then turned his gaze to the floor.
            "Whaaat?" Kevin said in dismay.  "Not only did I bring zombies here, but vampires too?  Man..."  Kevin frowned.
            "We assumed that you would not be pleased to learn that," Meredith explained.  "I'm sorry my associate here couldn't keep his mouth shut."
            "Hey!  I--" Eric started, but was cut off.
            "Just because I call you my associate does not mean I'm inviting you to back-talk me," Meredith chastised firmly.
            "Yes, m'lady," Eric replied respectfully.
            "You see," said Meredith to Kevin, "I had you sought out because I was grateful.  We were trapped in the void for what seemed an eternity.  Turns out it was only about a century, but when you pass a certain point not existing, time ceases to really matter.
            "Wouldn't time never matter if you didn't exist?" Josh mused aloud.  "In fact, shouldn't it have seemed like an instant?  You weren't around to perceive time!"
            "That's very philosophical of you," Eric interjected once more, coldly, "but apparently that's not how perception works.  As best as I can figure it, the time we know is an illusion created by the motion of large objects through space, and though we may lose our bodies and all the symbols we once knew, such as images and language, our perception lives on interminably in a senseless abyss of nothing but itself."
            "And that is one of the reasons we chose this life of vampirism,' Meredith continued Eric's speech.  "To stave off that state of suspension as long as possible."
            "That's not even what happens when you die, though," Kevin said.  "Not necessarily."
            Meredith raised an eyebrow.  "What do you mean?" she inquired.
            Before Kevin could decide how to answer, a loud, metallic thud resounded nearby.  The four turned towards the source of the sound.  There, rising from a landing kneel, was a man in a black business suit.  He had an umbrella through his chest, and sparks flew from the hole.
            "Zombies, vampires, AND robots?" Kevin bellowed.
            The man attempted to lunge forward, but instead merely lurched one giant stride then fell temporarily dormant.  "It's malfunctioning!" Eric declared intelligently.
            Kevin leapt forward and delivered a swift uppercut to the robotic man's face.  The robot was laid out on his back, and Kevin clutched his fist in pain.
            "MOTHER FFFFF..." Kevin cut himself off, his knuckles throbbing in pain.  Eric walked up and stomped the robot's head a few times, caving its metal skull in.  The robot finally lay still.
            Kevin knelt down next to the robot and searched him.  "No wallet," he said after a bit of probing.  He then withdrew his hand from a pocket holding a plain, white business card.
            "What's it say?" asked Josh.
            "Hmm," said Kevin, studying the card, then flipping it over curiously.  "This is odd."

* * *

            "And then everyone can live in peace on the ocean floor with all the slinkies they could ever want," Frank finished explaining his plan for salvation of the human race to his new friend, Melvin the gorilla.  "Or maybe they wouldn't even need slinkies with all that water."
            Frank had been sitting alone in a booth at Mike's for the past four hours talking to himself.  Everyone gave him weird looks, and for a while, he'd been being watched by staff.  Finally, a man approached Frank.
            "Excuse me, sir," the man said to Frank.
            Frank turned to look at the man.  "Hello, sir," Frank replied pleasantly.  "I'm Frank, and this is Melvin."  Frank indicated the empty seat across from him.  The man glanced at the seat, back at Frank, then rolled his eyes.
            "I'm sorry," the man continued, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave?"
            Frank donned a shocked expression.  "But I can't leave!" he protested.  "What'll become of me?  I've only just arrived, and there's so much left to do!"
            "Look, sir," the man explained, irritated.  "Between nine and five, this place is treated as a restaurant.  Mornings here are generally a calm, family-friendly environment.  The rave ended hours ago and, well, you're pretty much scaring away my customers, to be frank."
            Frank got angry.  "How can YOU be Frank?  I'M Frank," he asserted.  "Just because we live this life looking out at it from the perspective of a single, constant vessel doesn't mean you should desire to be that which or whom you are not."  Frank stood up and reached forward, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.  "And in the long run, we're all the same.  There's no such thing as Frank, Melvin or--I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
            "Uh," the man hesitated, confused and caught off guard.  "I'm Mike," he said finally.
            "Well, Mike," Frank said, his gaze drifting up from Mike's face to a string of giant, incandescent letters that read "Mike's Pub."  Frank gaped.  "You're THE Mike?"  Frank pointed to the sign.
            "That's me," Mike said without glancing back.  Frank stared, wide-eyed and confounded for a moment.  He then dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
            "My lord," Frank said in woeful reverence.  "Forgive me."  By this point the entire occupancy of the restaurant had tuned into the exchange between Mike and Frank.
            "Enough of this!" Mike nearly shouted in frustration.  "Please.  Get out."  He pointed to the door.  Frank nodded humbly, then shuffled out into the street.

* * *

            Tony, Phil, Raoul and Nikki had been sitting around a table chatting for hours.  Phil had prepared them all some breakfast spaghetti, and they'd eaten it with much gusto.  Suddenly, the door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud.  The four turned to assess the intruder.
            "Where can I find Kevin Epstein?" the girl in the doorway demanded.  She wore a green vest over a pink v-neck and white, low-cut jeans.  Phil recognized her as the girl that had been hitting on Kevin the previous night in the club.  He also noticed a sidearm strapped to her hip.
            "Great," said Phil.  "Kevin leaves us in the dust, but his wake of destruction will be clouding around us for the rest of our lives."
            "Where can I find him?" the girl repeated after shutting the door behind her and taking a few steps into the room.
            "We don't know," Phil replied.  The girl then walked directly up to Phil, looked him in the eye for a few seconds, then stepped into him, one leg off to either side, straddling him in his seat.
            "You sure?" she probed.  Phil probed back.
            "Look, we don't know," Tony reiterated.
            "Especially me," Raoul added.  "I don't know a damn thing."  Nikki smacked him backhanded in the chest.  Raoul laughed.  Suddenly, the door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud.  The five turned to assess the intruder.
            "Where can I find Kevin Epstein?" the figure in the doorway demanded, stepping forth and slamming the door.  He was horribly disfigured and wore a glass dome over his head with duct tape stuck over part of it.  Phil recognized him as the guy whose ass Kevin had kicked the previous day in the theatre.
            "SEE? WAKE OF DESTRUCTION!" Phil yelled, expectantly scanning the faces in the room for realizations of how right he was.
            "I was asked to find him," the figure continued, "by our mutual friend.  There was some unfinished business at their last meeting, and I'm afraid Kevin might be in danger."
            "You..." the girl said quietly, staring the figure dead in the eye.
            "You..." the figure replied in turn, shifting his gaze to the girl.
            "Me!" Raoul declared cheerfully.  He'd had one too many glasses of wine so far this morning.
            "What are you doing, talking like you're here to help Kevin?" Phil interrupted the pronoun spree.  "I just saw you full of rage and hate for him yesterday, trying to kill him!"
            "That was then," the figure said.  "I was...  Invited...  Into the Land of the Dead, where time has no--"  Suddenly, the door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud.
            "God damnit!" Tony growled.  "Can people please be more careful with that door?"
            "Where can I find Kevin Epstein?" the man in the doorway demanded from his face-down position on the floor into which he'd fallen upon entering.  Phil recognized him as Frank.
            "Frank?" Phil asked quizzically.  "That you?"
            "Yeah," said Frank, "and actually, I don't even care about Kevin.  I just need to pass the hell out."  He massaged his temples with two fingers each.
            "Here," said Phil, walking over to Frank.  Raoul stood up and joined him.  Together, the two helped Frank up, and he staggered to a booth.  After falling face-first into the bench seat, he was out cold.
            Phil sighed.  "Well, that's--" Phil was cut off as the door suddenly swung and hit the wall with a thud.
            "Son of a bitch!" Tony nearly shrieked.  "It was already open!"
            "Kevin's not here," Phil said before the intruder could speak, not even bothering to turn and check who it was.
            "That's quite alright," a familiar voice said.  "I'm sure I'm out taking care of him right now."
            "What?" Phil said confusedly, glancing to the door.  There stood Maxwell in his black business suit, just as he'd stood a couple hours earlier, only now he bore a large assault rifle.
            Tony gulped, but tried to remain calm.  "Holy shit!" Raoul yelped, pointing at the giant gun.
            "What do you want this time?" Tony demanded from behind his best poker face.
            "Who, me?" Maxwell replied.  "I've never been here before."
            "But I have," said Maxwell, stepping out from behind the doorframe outside.  He executed a beckoning motion towards the doorway, then strolled inside.  From the other side of the doorway, Maxwell stepped out yet again and walked inside as well.  There were now three Maxwells in the room.  Two wielded large assault rifles.
            "What the Jesus?" Raoul stammered.  Everyone else seconded the motion mentally.
            "What?" one of the Maxwells queried.  "You didn't think I was human, did you?"
            "Uh, yeah," said Phil.  "Why would we have had any reason to think otherwise?"
            "It matters not now," Maxwell said, waving off the question.  "I am not human.  My creators' goal is a unified planet, and I exist to quell those who seek to stand in the way of that goal.
            "Dani," he continued, turning to the girl who still straddled Phil.  "You and your siblings claim to be vigilantes fighting for the good of the people, but you're nothing more than power-hungry savages.
            "Manbot," he said, moving his focus to the figure standing near the doorway.  "You may think you're doing the right thing by taking a stand against the Carmonas here, but your heart is rotten beyond repair.  You've never wanted anything more than revenge since as long as you can remember.
            "You four," he addressed Tony, Phil, Raoul and Nikki.  "You're simply common criminals."
            "We're far from common," Nikki corrected him quietly.  Raoul nodded.
            "Can't we all just get along?" Frank cried, sitting up.
            "Yes," said Maxwell, facing Frank.  "We can."

Chapter Eighteen
History Lesson

By Amedeus

            “Oh, well that’s a relief,” Tony sighed. The Maxwells took notice and turned to him.
            “I believe you’ve misunderstood me. When I said 'we,' I was not referring to everyone in this room,” The one with the rifle on the right said. He then lowered his weapon to waist height and let loose three semi-automatic overly-high-calibur rounds into Tony’s stomach. Tony fell backwards to the ground, as was to be expected.
            “I was referring to me, myself, I, and Frank,” the one on the left concluded.
            Phil jumped to his feet and shouted, “You guys are monsters!”
            “No, I believe if you’re looking for monsters, you should turn to Manbot here,” the one on the left told him. Manbot lowered his head in shame. As best as he could what with the dome, anyways.
            “Manbot’s horridly horridness aside,” Raoul chimed in with a tone that clearly indicated that he had a cunning plan to get them all out of this mess, “I actually sold a whole slew of drugs to this man, uh, Frank, I believe? Yes, Frank. I sold him a ton of drugs very early this morning. So, y’know. He’s a criminal now, too.”
            “Very well,” the main Maxwell replied after a brief consideration, “We’ll teach him a valuable life lesson about drugs just as soon as the rest of you have ceased life functions.”
            Dani stood up from her newfound spot on the floor and, fuming, shouted, “Hey, if anything happens to me or my man here-” Phil’s eyebrows raised at this. “-my siblings will hunt you down, dismantle you piece by piece, and then melt those pieces into shiny metal goop.”
            The Maxwells were intrigued by her usage of the word “goop”, but nonetheless were not inclined to cease terminating everyone in this room who wasn’t higher than Jupiter.
            “Ms. Carmona, your… “siblings” are just one of the threats we were built with specific defenses against,” the rightmost Maxwell informed her, patronizingly, “I feel you’ll find it extremely difficult to dismantle us, even with your special abilities.”
            He raised his weapon to shoulder height and shot a round aimed directly at Dani’s head, but Phil kicked off from the chair and flew in the way, taking the bullet square in the nowhere. It had missed him completely, but luckily Dani’s reflexes were even better than Phil’s and she’d ducked out of the way long before he’d even thought of hurtling through the air. Everyone promptly got out their weapons and started shooting.
            It was quite a firefight, but nothing out-of-the-ordinary enough to go into detail about. The Maxwells proved to be very resilient to bullets, after all. At the end, Manbot decided to go all out and raised weapons out of every location, metallic and organic, on his body. The Maxwells took exceptional interest in this particular design. The main Maxwell lifted his golden gun and with a single shot hit Manbot in a particularly mangled bundle of nerves near his liver, causing him to bend over backwards (something his machinated body should not be able to do) and become completely paralyzed, aside from his eyes which looked creepily around at Raoul and Nikki, who were standing not far behind him and were currently giving him very disgusted looks. Manbot tried to bow his head in shame again, but even if he could he would’ve only been lifting it upright anyways.
            The Maxwells looked at each other in silent agreement and sprung forward towards the group that was left. The one on the left whipped Phil over the head with his rifle, knocking Phil out completely. The one on the right ran across the room and took on Dani himself. The main Maxwell pointed both guns at Nikki and Raoul, who began shooting at him some more. He returned the favor, and they decided finding cover would once again be the better option. Frank passed out on the floor.
            The main Maxwell shot through the table Raoul once again found himself behind, but this time Raoul proved last time to be a fluke. A golden bullet clipped him in the leg and he fell over on Tony’s recently-cleaned and even-more-recently-dirtied carpeting. Nikki ran to him to help, giving Maxwell the opening to walk right up and land a blow to the back of the head, sending her sprawling across Raoul. Raoul got his right arm loose and when Maxwell leaned over to knock him out too, he put his gun against the center of Maxwell’s forehead and didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
            When he removed the gun from the Maxwell’s head, all he found was a deep dent with a bullet lodged in it. Maxwell tried to see his own forehead, couldn’t, gave up, and finally knocked Raoul in the face with the butt of his gun.
            The Maxwell fighting Dani had met his equal in battle. The two raged at each other for quite some time without either side making any headway at all. Until Maxwell fell beside Phil and saw his chance. He grabbed Phil in his robotic arms and held the barrel of his rifle up to his head. Dani stopped in her tracks.
            “Put him down,” she commanded. The Maxwell did not respond. Dani, a very intelligent girl, thought out every single way this particular confrontation could go and didn’t like a single one. It appeared Maxwell had her King and this was quite easily a checkmate. She surrendered for the first time in her entire career.
            The other two Maxwells marched calmly up to her and hit her on opposite sides of the head, which was a definite way to knock her out, and a very possible way of giving her brain damage (it didn’t, but it could have).
            All three Maxwells scooped up their new bounty of research subjects, slammed the open door open again, and walked out the way they came in.

* * *

            Josh asked the question that just begged to be asked: “What is?”
            “Well, it says he’s a ‘businessman’,” Kevin explained curiously, “What kind of robotic businessman runs around shooting stakes at vampires? And on that note, what kind of robotic businessman who runs around shooting stakes at vampires is named Maxwell?”
            “Maxwell’s a good name for a vampire hunter,” Josh said, throwing in his own two cents, “But I see what you’re getting at with the robotic and businessman parts. Though I guess some rich kid who didn’t study hard enough and became a salesman could pass as a businessman Maxwell. But still, robot.”
            “There will be more,” Meredith told them, “I must go back and tend to the Colony. Eric, go with them and make sure they make it to their objective.”
            “Of course, m’lady,” Eric stated, bowing as Meredith returned to the Colony. The doors closed behind her and once again they were three against the world. Eric began walking away through the sewer. Kevin and Josh followed close behind.
            “What did she mean when she said, ‘their objective’?” Josh inquired.
            “Ah, yes, well, we have a task for you that we were hoping you could carry out…?” Eric told them, trailing off at the end and making it sound like it was more of a question than a statement.
            “Always. There’s always a task to carry out,” Kevin whined, “Alright, out with it.”
            “Right, well. See, there’s this vampire hunter guy,” Eric began, “But he never goes hunting on his own. Or, really, at all. He always sends other hunters out to fight for him. And then when they die, he just finds another one. None of us have ever seen him, but trust us. He exists. And he has all kinds of information on us and we can’t have him having that. It’s really bad for us, you see? So, essentially, we need you to go, find out what information he has, destroy it – bringing back anything interesting, of course – and kill him. It should be a snap!”
            “Didn’t you guys just wake up from some hundred-year nonexistence?” Kevin asked, rightfully confused, “How can he possibly have any important information on you yet?”
            “He’s just that good,” Eric stressed, “He’s already traced us back to the tunnels, and we suspect he’s begun mapping them out! He works fast, and we’ve already killed six of his, er, minions.”
            “Alright then, just one more question.”
            “Shoot.”
            “Why us?” Kevin inquired.
            “Well, I saw you guys fighting that robot earlier. And, uh,” Eric stammered for a moment, as though he knew what it was he wanted to say next, but didn’t actually know how to say it. “Hey you never told me your names.”
            “Kevin.”
            “Josh.”
            “Yeah! Wow. Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Kevin. Oh, but anyways. I told the Lady about your handiwork with that robot guy, and she knew you could handle it, probably. Plus you’re freshly-turned. We’ve all been vampires for too long to be able to even consider doing this. And…” Eric started to add, hesitantly, “There is another reason.”
            “What’s that?” Kevin asked, semi-attentive at this point.
            “You look exactly like the End-Bringer,” Eric whispered, as though the very name could bring doom to them all, “The one who killed our King and single-handedly banished us to the Sleep for all that time! We figured if you’re a vampire and look just like the End-Bringer, then you’re our End-Bringer. I mean, you don’t bring our end, but you’re the End-Bringer on our side. You see? You’re fabled to bring down the hunters! You’re our savior!”
            “Cool,” Kevin said nonchalantly.
            “Hey, now I have a question!” Josh announced, “When we were fighting the robot, you were bent backwards with your head nailed to the inside of some undead drunkard’s trunk! What’s up with that?”
            “Oh, hey, yeah,” Eric said, suddenly remembering this little event, “Wow, I forgot all about that. Yeah, it went right between my brain. Now there’s a biology lesson for you. You know how the brain’s split into two parts, with a gap separating the two? Well it went right in between there. It was pretty nasty. The worst part was when I couldn’t get it un-bolted from the trunk. I had to slide my head up off it! That was interesting, I’ll tell you.”
            “Huh,” Kevin said, also nonchalantly. “Well, I guess that’s everything then. Onward to the vampire hunter!”
            “Oh, I’m not taking you to the hunter,” Eric informed him.
            “What? Where we going then?” Kevin asked, now confused as to what he was going to have to do.
            “You guys are going to have to infiltrate his operation. You’re going to have to become his new hunters – which won’t be easy, since he only hires one at a time. This means you’re going to have to do two things: kill his old hunter, and be alive.”
            “Uh?” Josh spat out. He promptly wiped it off his chin.
            “You see,” Eric continued, “There’s a building within the city that houses the one known cure for vampirism. And you’re going to obtain it. And… it’s heavily guarded, of course. Ah, we’re finally here!”
            “Wow, that was quick!” Kevin exclaimed, “So they have the cure for being a vampire here, huh? Any other cures we should pick up while we’re up there? Cancer, AIDS, vegetarianism?”
            “Oh, we’re not at the building yet,” Eric informed them some more, “This is just the Tunnel.”
            “Stop misleading us!” Kevin bellowed, “It’s giving me a headache.”
            “Sorry,” Eric uttered as he pushed open a secret door in the wall of the sewer, “But I think you’ll be happy to know that this tunnel goes specifically to that very building!”
            “You’re right,” Kevin confirmed, “That does bring me menial amounts of joy.”
            The three continued down the Tunnel a short ways before coming to an intersection where the Tunnel both continued forward and branched off to the left.
            “Hey,” Kevin began, “Remember like three minutes ago when you said this tunnel went specifically to the building? Yeah. Well, that usually means it doesn’t split off like this.”
            “That way doesn’t go anywhere,” Eric insisted, “That’s the end of the original tunnel. This tunnel was built long before we ever came to America. It branched off of the old sewers and just ended there. Where it turned, we knocked down the wall and continued it going straight, all the way to the building. But that doesn’t go anywhere. Look, you can see the end of it from here. Your eyes should have adjusted by now.”
            He was right. They could now fully see in the dark without the aid of the Blackberry®. He was also right about it going nowhere: it was a complete dead-end.
            “See, now, there’s another one of those things that just doesn’t make sense,” Josh pointed out, “This is just outside where the city abruptly ended back in the early 1900’s. I know - I went to school once. So this tunnel leads to a building that didn’t exist back then. Therefore, you must have built it after coming back. And you’ve made that out to sound like it happened very recently. So you couldn’t have had enough time to accomplish this in that short span.”
            “Time… works differently down here,” Eric said, unsure of his own wording, “In the sewers, Colony, and Tunnel I mean.”
            “You mean time goes slower underneath the city than it does on the surface?” Josh inquired, visibly intrigued by the sheer idea of this.
            “Well… no.”
            “So… faster?” Kevin tried.
            “No, it just goes… differently,” Eric tried explaining, “It’s hard to put into words, and you probably wouldn’t understand anyways. I mean, once you already know the equations associated with it, it’s a breeze. Sort of. But there’s no way I could relate it to you two without the help of our scholars.”
            “Oh, cool,” Josh said, “So time just goes screwy down here, then. Is that what you’re telling me?”
            “In so many words, yes.”
            “Cool. So we have no idea how much further into the future or past all of our friends are,” Josh complained, “This is really going to mess up my sleep schedule.”
            “Man, if hanging around with me doesn’t completely obliterate your sleep schedule, then I don’t think this is going to have any adverse effects on it,” Kevin noted. “And hey, if this was built as just a way to get from the sewers to that dead-end, there’s got to be a reason.”
            With that, Kevin walked down to the end of the line to check it out. Eric and Josh looked at each other, shrugged, and followed him. Kevin began pushing on various stones to try and open a secret passage, but you generally only get lucky with that once per day. He began knocking on various other stones, all sounding exactly the same. He nearly became discouraged, until he realized that the reason that he was getting the same sound from all of them was because it wide open behind the entire wall.
            “Alright, stand back,” Kevin warned. He used all the skills he picked up in the Waiting Room and body slammed clean through the wall. The three of them all stood back and stared, slightly surprised - but not all that much - at what lied behind.
            “Gabrielle DeRicharde,” Kevin read aloud.
            “It’s a grave,” Josh realized. A sound, almost voice-like, flowed faintly from within.
            “Well, okay then. Let’s leave it the hell alone,” Kevin decided, “I’ve already raised enough zombies and vampires for one day. I don’t want to go waking anything else up while we’re here. Let’s just get to the building already. Time’s probably a wastin’!”
            Kevin, Eric, and Josh all returned to the intersection and continued along the Tunnel towards their destination. Along the way, Eric gave them a tour of the city based on the places the Blackberry® told them they were passing under.
            “This is Al’s Fish Cream Emporium!” he told them at one point, “He sells ice cream in fish! It’s like stuffing a turkey, only you have to eat it raw as sushi, ‘cause if you cook it the ice cream melts. So it’s ice cream sushi! They’re finally beating the Japanese at their own game.”
            “This is the Platz für Tanz, sometimes called the Tanzplatz by the regulars,” he told them at another point, “I’ve heard they have a magical killing toilet hidden somewhere inside, but nobody’s ever seen it, so I don’t know how anyone knows for sure. They play all kinds of weird, German techno. A lot of my brethren go there at night to party and, y’know, feed sometimes.”
            “Oh, and this is the 4^th Street Memorial Park!” he told them at yet another point, “I have no idea what it’s in memorial to, but a lot of hobos sleep there at night! If you’ve got nothing better, it’s usually worth the trip to get your blood fix.”
            “And here we are!” he concluded when they finally reached a dead-end. “Somewhere directly above you is the cure for being a vampire. All you have to do now is find it. And break through the ceiling and their floor to get in.”
            No sooner had these words left his mouth than the sound of the ceiling crashing down behind them echoed through their heads. This was immediately followed up with several bullets burrowing themselves into the trio’s collective backs. They turned around and found a very, very large whitish bipedal robot with two machine gun arms sticking out of the sides of its cockpit-like body shooting at them. It was entirely too large for the Tunnel, and the walls and ceiling caved in wherever it walked. And it looked like it meant business.
            “The security bot!” Eric shouted in surprise and fear, “It must have picked up my Blackberry®’s signal! You’ve got to go, now! Don’t worry about me, I’ll distract it! Climb up through the ceiling!”
            Kevin scooped up Josh under his arm like a piece of lumber and ran past the security bot like a quarterback. He ducked under its legs and stopped when he got behind it. It tried to turn around to fire upon them, but was too confined by the confining tunnel. Kevin threw Josh straight up into the hole, then followed him up by climbing on the bot’s back. It put up a valiant struggle, but ultimately Kevin made his way to the top and was finally in.

* * *

            Frank opened his eyes, and then tried opening them again, but they were already open. The reason for the confusion was due in no small part to the fact that it was completely dark in the room he was in.
            He struggled around a bit but got nowhere due to the fact that he was apparently strapped onto some kind of metal bed or stretcher or cot or something that was tilted so that he was in a standing position. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room from the darkness he’d already been experiencing with his eyes closed, he noted that this was all true. But more importantly, he was strapped in next to everyone from Tony’s place, as far as he could really remember. He had a splitting headache and couldn’t really think straight as to what had happened there to land him wherever he was now.
            He did happen to remember a big, disgusting-looking man with some sort of fishbowl on his head being in his company back at Tony’s. That man didn’t seem to be with them. He wondered what was going on. Until a voice reverberated throughout the darkness.
            “Hello, Frank,” it greeted warmly, yet snidely, “Welcome to my lab.”

Chapter Nineteen
The Lives We Could Have Led

By Amedeus

            Josh and Kevin glared miserably at the “out-of-order” sign hanging on the building’s one single elevator. According to the map next to it, this was one of the tallest buildings in the city – and all of the lower levels were just offices and other boring things nobody wants to waste their time searching. All of the secured areas and high-clearance sections were up near the top, and it looked as though they’d have to climb many flights of stairs to get to them.
            In and of itself, the climb really wasn’t all that tough. But it was, as they suspected, exceedingly dull. The severe mindlessness of the climb was enough to make Kevin thrust a fist through one of the walls and allow his arm to break away a spiral hole stretching from the 15^th floor, all the way up through the 37^th.
            At the 37^th floor, the duo stopped so Josh could make a brief trip to the bathroom. In the meantime, Kevin stood idly by and tried to punch a cool art piece into an as-of-yet undamaged section of wall. However, like most of Kevin’s “art”, it didn’t come out quite right and he wound up just breaking the whole thing down in frustration, revealing a bevy of frightened office workers on the other side.
            As Kevin tried his best to look innocent and play things off like he hadn’t even noticed it fall down, Josh came up the stairs, spotted Kevin, and became suspiciously overjoyed.
            “Kevin!” he cried out with glee, “Where have you been?”
            “Uh… Right here, where I’ve been all along?” Kevin suggested, “How did you wind up down there?”
            “Well I had to look all over for you for one thing. It was easier once I figured out how to track your Blackberry® signal. Why did you come back here?”
            “What? To this stairwell? You just left me here like five minutes ago,” Kevin insisted, before stopping and noticing something strange about what Josh said – compared to everything else he’d just said, anyways, “…And wait, did you say my Blackberry®?”
            “Yeah, that Blackberry® that Eric gave you in case of an emergency when we disguised ourselves as vampire hunters. Don’t you remember?”
            Before Kevin could open his mouth to reply, Josh came back from the bathroom and greeted everyone, did a double-take, and looked to Kevin for answers. Kevin looked between the two Joshes, finally attempted to speak, couldn’t find anything to say, gave up, walked over to the corner that wasn’t partially a giant hole, sat down, and considered taking a nap and waiting for all of this to correct itself or go away.
            Josh was the first to notice that Future Josh didn’t have a sweet set of fangs and eagerly pointed it out, hoping to shed some light on what was going on here. He devised a theory that when somebody becomes a vampire, it creates a carbon nonvampiric copy somewhere, and that this was his. Kevin quickly dismissed this notion as being completely retarded, though in light of everything they’d seen recently he would later feel bad about this and reckon that it wasn’t entirely outside of the bounds of valid ideas.
            Future Josh was the first to take a rational step towards sorting this whole ordeal out.
            “Guys. What are the two of you here to do?” he asked.
            “Well, to get the cure for vampirism, of course,” his undead alternate replied.
            “But that was ages ago…” Future Josh muttered to himself, as though slowly solving some crazy, elaborate puzzle in his head. “Of course!” he finally announced, “I must have been sent back in time! The fact that I don’t remember any of this just means that this is some crazy alternate timeline and my being here only slightly alters things!”
            “Josh, that’s not how time travel works,” Kevin contended, “Trust me, I’ve seen it firsthand quite enough. Nothing ever changes, you just find out that things happened slightly differently behind the scenes from how you initially thought they happened.”
            “What if somebody disrupted time and space and, like, particles and junk?” Josh said, “Couldn’t there be like a beam that would make time shift or whatever and cause things like this to be possible? And then since things changed, the time shift never happens in the new timeline, and therefore everything doesn’t become totally screwed up.”
            Kevin thought about the time when he called Josh’s theory about vampirism-induced cloning retarded and began to feel bad about it. He reckoned that it wasn’t entirely outside of the bounds of valid ideas and, all things considered, this new idea probably wasn’t either. For the sake of not coming across like a complete jerk, he stood up and agreed that the alternate timeline idea could indeed be a distinct possibility.
            “Okay then,” Kevin continued, “What happened in the original timeline? Where did you go from right here, right now?”
            “Well,” Josh began, “The first thing we did was keep climbing all the way up to the 54^th floor and look around for the elusive cure. Of course, when we got there we couldn’t just grab the cure and go.”
            “Security systems?” Kevin assumed, “What kind? I can probably slip by them with future knowledge of-”
            “No,” Josh interrupted, “Aside from a trip alarm and a fancy grid of lasers that you assured me was typical-”
            “Can’t steal anything without dodging them, these days.”
            “-there was no real security for a building holding something so valuable. Which I guess makes sense when the real threat is air pirates crashing through your windows and stealing all of your prized junk. …Which it is. Because they did. As soon as we found the cure, they crashed the front of their ship through the giant, plate glass windows. They turned the ship sideways and started swinging into the room and stealing things and yelling piratey phrases every which way and we tried to get the cure but they were being dicks and took it and, like, swashbuckled and stuff and tried to take off. But we totally grabbed hold of some loose rope they forgot to reel in and climbed up onto the ship.
            “So they all turned to face us and the captain came out and introduced himself and his clan of air pirates and strolled over and tried to be all intimidating and charismatic all at once but one of the others tried to pitch in too, and screwed him all up and you punched him in the face and stole his sword and he ordered the crew to end you, but of course you climbed up one of those rope ladders on the side and left me all alone down on the deck. You started walking across to the other side and some of the air pirates tried to cut you off so you hacked off an entire, I guess… beam? I don’t know, a whole piece of whatever was holding them up and it fell down along with the pirates on it, and even landed on a few more pirates when it finally hit.
            “They took notice of me, and I had to think my way out. I ran up the stairs to the front of the ship and couldn’t find anything but a barrel and a spare rope, so I kicked the barrel down the stairs and knocked a couple down and couldn’t think of anything good to do with the rope to stop them and you were busy sword fighting on the, uh, rafter, so I tied it onto the side and climbed a couple feet down into a window.
            “I barred the door some and there was a broken cannon sitting in there with no wheels or anything, so I found… man, I found something and cut off some rope. I don’t even remember what. But I somehow fashioned a wick and tossed some gunpowder and the cannonball into the thing and really had no idea what I was doing, but it felt pretty cool at the time. And I lit the fuse and by now all the air pirates you weren’t dealing with were on the other side of the door trying to break it down, and the cannon fired and blew a hole through the door and a few of the air pirates, too. It knocked the mast apart and that started to come down and you and an air pirate grabbed a hold of a couple ropes and all the others just fell off while the two of you swung down and kept getting lower and lower really quick since the mast they were tied to was lowering as well. And the two of you sword-fought the whole way down and you landed near the helm – hey, I knew that one! You landed near the helm and the other one slammed into a wall and you grabbed the helm and steered the ship against the side of a building and knocked everyone down and finally the captain called for everyone to stop fighting so he could take of you himself.
            “He picked up a dead guy’s sword and the two of you met at the bottom of the steps to the helm and fought until he took this big swipe at you and instead of moving forward like you were going to do, you suddenly stopped and realized that the ship must have been the shadow we were moving under earlier, and he-”
            “Oh, heyyy!”
            “-and he stumbled forward and you rocked his face and he, defeated, offered you the title of Captain of his ship. You obviously accepted it and made him first mate and acting captain of the ship in your leave and got them to hand over the cure and the old captain held it up and it shot a beam of light at us and went dark and we became human again.”
            “Hey, wait,” Kevin stopped him, “that just made me think of something. How did you keep from bursting into flames the whole time you were fighting?”
            “Well, it was cloudy,” Josh told him.
            “Yeah, but I mean isn’t that still like daylight or something coming through the clouds?” Kevin asked.
            “It was really cloudy,” Josh corrected. “Anyways, we had them drop us off on top of a nearby building so we could find a computer or something and set off looking for the vampire hunter. They sailed away and we started to head to the stairs, but before we could even get there we were ambushed by this big, gigantic guy. He was all tan and had this huge gatling gun. Or, like, minigun or something. I don’t really know the difference. But he said he was part of the Tetsuo Neutralization Team, here to stop you. The two of you squared off but before you could fight, he had a heart attack and stumbled back and fell off the side of the building. Before he did, though, he grunted out something like, ‘No… you wouldn’t! Damn you Terry! Damn you and that toilet!’ Or, you know, something like that anyways. I don’t remember the exact quote.”
            “I like how you can remember any lame name forever,” Kevin butted in, “but you can’t remember what a big, dying guy shouted out as he fell off a roof in front of you.”
            “I remembered the name he said,” Josh said, defending a valid, though probably moot, point, “But yeah, we started heading down the stairs because it was a cheap, jerk apartment building which didn’t have an elevator either, and on the way down we started thinking about all your heart attacks and what he said about a toilet and remembered the killing john Eric pointed out earlier and on a complete hunch decided to go check it out since we really had no idea how to go about the whole ‘finding the unnamed vampire hunter who wouldn’t send anyone after us now that we’d become daywalkers again’ thing.
            “We looked up the club it was at and headed off there. There was nothing special about the men’s room, and you made kind of… well, a scene, trying to check the women’s room. I mean, just strolling right into the ladies’ room of a crowded techno-metal club is always trouble. I don’t know why you don’t just listen t-”
            “Okay, okay, okay,” Kevin said, stopping the chastising before Josh could actually get any momentum going, “Let’s not berate me for things I haven’t actually done yet. Continue.”
            “-Right, so it totally wasn’t in there, and we managed to get ourselves lost in the crowd and snuck into this hallway that didn’t really seem to go anywhere and you kicked down a couple locked doors – which were weird, I might add. They just led to more hallway. It was like one long hallway with a single turn that they just threw some doors into for, I dunno, luck or something.
            “But yeah, we head to the back there, and you try and open the door and have a heart attack, but then you get back up and try and kick the door in and have another heart attack and try and bust it down again and then you have this apparently brilliant idea for me to sort of hold you up facing the door and you have another heart attack and suddenly just… become flying towards the door with all this impossible momentum and slam into it and it still does absolutely no effect so we head outside and you take out this thing the air pirates gave you and do, I don’t know, something. And a few minutes later our crew is hovering overhead and drops a dilapidated rope ladder down for us to climb.
            “So we climbed up the ladder and you announce that you’re going to bombard the place but of course nobody inside hears you over the music, so you climb back down and go inside and a few minutes later everyone ran out screaming, and you came back up and we blew the hell out of the building, and everything was decimated. Except for that one room and it’s holding up really well. But since the heart attacks don’t seem to work on you, and you can’t get into the room, the two of you hit a stalemate and the guy decided to just come out, anyway.
            “So he opens the door and he’s this tall, lanky, greasy, black-haired old guy wearing like a green sweat suit. He was pretty gnarly-looking. And you were about to just order everyone to obliterate him but by now you were really curious about the toilet and were too iffy about whether the explosion might rock the door closed so we climbed down and you grabbed a signpost out of the cement and stabbed him with it but it didn’t even phase him and he went into one of those really long expositions they always keep doing for whatever reason.”
            “-Yeah, you seem pretty good at those-”
            “So basically,” Josh continued, ignoring Kevin’s latest interruption, “he told us all about how he can’t be killed by mortal means because of some deal he made awhile ago and we asked him why he kept trying to kill you, and he said he was also one of the Tetsuo Neutralization Team, but that didn’t make any sense because there are only four of them and he would make five. So he explained that Ben’s not really part of the team, he just likes to think he is because he has the hots for Alice.”
            “Wait, I thought his last name was Carmona,” Present Josh interjected.
            “Yeah, I pointed that out too. Well. I mean, we also pointed that out… again. …Earlier. …Well anyways, the guy said something about him making a fake last name because married people change their last name and he’s really just that weird. And it turns out they’re not all Carmonas, either. Actually, Dani’s the only one related to Alice. And they’re not really sisters, just like cousins or, like, step-sisters or something. Or maybe they were sisters, I don’t even really remember that much I kind of spaced out for a few minutes there. But yeah, the other two are totally unrelated. She just called them ‘brothers’ in the, you know, brothers-in-arms sort of metaphorical sense.
            “So when he finally got to the end and wrapped everything up he did one of those bad guy laughs and you started having a heart attack again and while I was trying to help you he ran to the rope ladder and climbed up to the ship and started beating up the crew with his… invincibleness. And you got back up and ran off to kick ass and I went into the room and inside there was just this sort of old bathroom tile and a single toilet stall in the middle. No sink or mirror or anything, just some space and a stall. And inside the stall was an ordinary toilet. But there were all these names and descriptions of deaths scratched in all over the place. Then I noticed that there were rules carved into the top of the back part of the toilet and they said all of these things about carving a name into the stall and it killing people, and you can even tell it how to kill them and when and everything… it was really weird.
            “So I sat down and started thinking about his speech and managed to figure out his last name was Kenwood through some clues he’d accidentally dropped and a really unfair backwards-alphabet and I remembered the name, ‘Terry,’ that the big guy had cursed earlier and wrote them together on the stall and flushed - that’s another one of the rules - and… nothing happened. So I tried ‘Terrence’ and still nothing happened, but then out of nowhere this ghost floated up through the floor and started doing his own long exposition about Terry and the deal they’d made oh-so-long ago.
            “Yeah, apparently, like, a couple centuries ago Terry made this spiritual pact with this guy, who was totally dying, and their spirits or names or something got switched, I wasn’t really clear on that, but whatever happened, anything you do to Terry just happens to this ghost guy and vice versa. So after the guy died, Terry sealed him off in a stone grave underground and sealed off the tunnel and his spirit’s pretty much just been chilling there ever since.
            “So you came back because you weren’t making any headway with Terry’s invincibility and the ghost went through the whole rant again for you so I think I dozed off for a couple minutes but you woke me back up because apparently you figured something out and you scratch the name from the grave we saw in the sewers onto the wall and flush the toilet and only then does the ghost finally tells us that any living person who puts a name on the stall will summon the stall’s demon which will then hunt down and kill anybody who used it. I noticed he specified ‘living’ person, like he was implying that Terry’s stall-abuse never summoned the demon ‘cause the deal and Gabrielle – the ghost - being dead and all. But nothing happened, so we figured everything was cool.
            “But yeah, Terry totally died when you wrote Gabe’s name on the stall so it was all cool. So we went back down into the sewer to find Eric so he could guide us towards the hunter, and we ran into him after a couple of hours of trudging around in the dark and nasty and he gave us his Blackberry® with the guy’s home mapped out on it, and we went there to become hunters. He seemed pretty happy to see us. He didn’t even really care that there were two of us. You told him you’d only work if I got to come along and he let me. So then he gave us these tongue-drops to ward off whatever it is in vampire bites that turns people into them. And… then we pretty much blacked out for awhile.
            “When we came to, we, uh… Well, all the vampires were dead. I mean, like, really dead, not in the dead but still alive because they’re vampires way. So we’d pretty much gone blank and killed all the vampires. Which sucked, let me tell you. After the shock of that wore off, you told me that you’d came to first because you started having this hallucinatory episode in the middle of the blacking-out, and that managed to shake you out of whatever brainwashing thing was going on, and then you managed to somehow shake me out of mine or something, I guess. I didn’t really ask how you did that. I guess maybe I should have… might have come in handy someday.
            “That’s when I noticed the faintest red blinking in the darkness and it turned out it was coming from your eyepatch. Or it seemed like it. But your eyepatch had actually slipped down when we were out of it. So we got up into the daylight and found out that you’ve actually had a bionic eye under there this whole time!”
            “Wait,” Kevin ordered, “I have a what under where!?”
            He flipped up his eyepatch and, lo and behold, underneath was indeed a metallic, bionic eye. Kevin set straight to work flexing various head muscles, trying to get a reaction from the new toy. After a moment or two of fiddling, he managed to shine an especially bright light out of it – straight into Present Josh’s eye. Josh was less than pleased, as evidenced by the way he covered his face with his hands and backed himself into the hole in the wall and fell through. Kevin ignored this, as he was having too much fun at that moment in time. He quickly got used to looking around with it, as well as using the light to blind the various unfortunate office workers who happened to pass by.
            When he couldn’t figure out how to get it to do any other tricks, he turned his attention back to Future Josh again, and the story was picked back up where it left off.
            “Yeah, so as I was saying,” Josh started again, “We discovered your new bionic eye, but we also discovered that it has caused your hallucinations. Mostly because it threw another one your way. And then when I tried to help you out, you asked me why I randomly start speaking all gangsta every so often for no reason, and I told you that I don’t. You said that everybody’s been doing it off and on a lot lately, and we managed to work out that whatever faulty wiring or remote control or whatever’s causing that eye to screw with your brain is probably causing it to occasionally process everyone speech patterns as sounding more… well, gangsta than they normally would.”
            “I was wondering why that kept happening,” Kevin agreed.
            “You didn’t stop to ask any of us?” Present Josh asked.
            “Well, apparently I did, I just haven’t done it yet,” Kevin noted.
            “So anyways,” Josh said, trying more desperately now to hurry this story along to the end before he was interrupted again, “We went back to the vampire hunter’s house, and beat his wheelchair-bound ass up. Then a giant, bloody demon thing burst into the apartment and started attacking us, so we left the cripple and ran like hell. He just kept following us anyways, all the way down the street. I looked back to see how far back he was, and suddenly we were surrounded by this swirly blue light and when I looked forward again it went away and we both split up, heading down opposite streets. I found an abandoned old building and hid there for awhile and it never showed up, so I got ahold of a computer and rigged it up to track the Blackberry® that Eric gave you, but it was giving me two different locations.
            “So I followed one of them, and it led me to this building. Must’ve been while you… or, we… or well, you, were still in the tunnel underneath the place. I’ve been looking around the building for awhile. It was lucky I had to pee earlier and made you stop and wait, or we might not have run into each other before you got on the-”
            Josh stopped dead in his vocal tracks as he donned that increasingly familiar look of sudden realization and turned his voice up a few decibels and shouted, “HOLY HELL!”
            “What is it?” Kevin asked, simply enough.
            “The air pirates!” he exclaimed, “We’ve been talking so long they’ve probably been and went already! Come on, we have to hurry!”
            They ran the remaining flights of stairs to floor 54. There, they ducked through the laser grid and found the windows completely shattered, everything of value stolen, and everything else unceremoniously strewn about. Oddly enough, though, none of the alarms had been set off.
            Kevin walked over to the window while the Joshes looked around. He peered over the glass at the ground below. For some reason, there was a graveyard at the bottom. He spent a few minutes silently contemplating why a company like this would ever need their own cemetery – especially one that close to the building.
            Kevin took a step back and the Joshes came to join him and before any of them could say a word the lights dimmed for a brief moment and a body crashed backwards through the wall opposite the window, hit its head on the window’s frame, did a really sweet front-flip and was sent spinning more-or-less straight downwards toward the ground. As this happened, a voice came from whatever room the body had and shouted, “Holy crap!”
            Kevin recognized the body as Tony’s. He recognized the voice as Frank’s. He returned to his spot in the window – being wary of any additional flying bodies that might pass by – and looked down. He watched Tony do a final flip and land neatly on his back in the single open grave in the yard.
            “Ohhhh,” Kevin said, understanding now.
            He turned around, but before he could turn his attention back to Frank’s as-of-yet disembodied voice, however, he was stopped by the sight of a giant, pinkish-red beast crashing up through the floor in front of him. It had large, black horns and looked like it had had blood poured all over it from above. In its top-right arm, it held the lifeless remains of a tall, greasy, lanky, dark-haired old man in a green sweat suit.
            The creature roared extremely loudly in Kevin’s face, blowing Kevin’s hair all about.
            A helicopter appeared outside the window and the voice from a loudspeaker ordered everybody to stop what they were doing and put their hands in the air.
            Almost just as if to not be left out, all of the nearest surrounding buildings burst with fiery explosions and collapsed to the ground around them.

To Be Continued...

Back to Top
Back to Writing