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A woman sat within an old wicker chair, her fingers touching the other settling beneath her waist. Her clothes were red and tattered, with instances of brown and turmeric colours. Her face had a lighter blemish, not pale but well-tanned with a red dot upon her forehead simply. She was somewhat around middle-age, the slightest of wrinkles settling in around her throat and underneath her arms. "He lies, but does not breathe." Her voice muttered to herself, fingers twitching constantly as if threatening not to touch each other, always moving, never still. "The spirit, she was here." Harsh dark eyes flickered around the room, seeing the horrid decay that stood all around her. A half-rotting school, the foundations still standing somehow with the walls showing faint traces that had once been paintings of children, numbers and letters mismatched on a smiling train. "You...are...special..." She looked over towards her immediate left, a child's cot covered by a hessian blanket where a heavy breathing came, one deep enough to make the blanket itself move visibly. She smiled faintly, a small twitch of her lips as she turned her gaze across the floor. Red. A sea of red, she forgot what was blood and what wasn't anymore, the bodies of many men severed all around her. Limbs and torsos, numbers and happy faces, books of laughing children that seemed to echo inside her head from the small classroom in front of her. "I love you...you love me? I love you too...yes...she knows I love him...she knows it too, she is my...kindred spirit, I...I know she-" "Hello?" A sombre male voice came from the other side of the classroom, where chairs and desks still rotted to their roots. Worn and almost empty but for a few small toys and pencils, the remnants of children were buried elsewhere by her hand. Now the bodies of adults laid around her, ripped and maimed of their flesh with visible teeth marks in the bone. The shape at the door leading out towards the darkened night was not human in nature. She knew that he would come as she stood up readily, wielding a long bleeding machete as the visitor spoke with odd pauses. "Woah, woah woah, hold on. My name's, James Campbell. I heard someone, needed help and I thought, maybe I could, help you out." "You...are you the liar woven in flesh?" "...huh? Um, I don't...I don't know, what you're talking about miss...what is, your name?" "...Melissa. You gave me your name, so I shall give you mine." "Melissa...alright, well, see I heard, someone was, needing help. And I thought, do you need any, help?" "I am not sick. My son just needs food." "...did you kill...all these people?"

Her hand began trembling on the blade, shivering at hearing this. Her body shook fearfully but she did not relent, simply saying: "They came because they were greedy, they tried to foul my sanctuary. I would not let them, and so they...they shall fade away like everyone. But not me...not my son." The raptor walked lightly into the blood-red room, feeling the fresh red liquid slap tenedrly at his feet. He wore a cloak upon his body, wrapped round entirely except for feet and tail, his head hung low hidden beneath the cowl. "Are you...hungry? Maybe you would, like me to get some food, something you, cannot get yourself. I just need an answer, that's all, I-GAAAAAAA AAAARGH!" _ A pain ran shattering through his leg, sending him down onto the floor as he threw his head back throwing the cloak from his being. Snarling teeth and eyes of black, his voice transforming back to its original demon self as a violent heat coursed through his deadened veins. "I knew it," said the woman without emotion, "you've come finally." **"AAARRRGH! ...hhhhh...what?!"** "You are the demon...the one I...was warned about...the mother's spirit, the vagabond she...she knew what must be done." The pain that ran through his legs made him fall back further, seeing something had been painted upon the ground hidden deep beneath the red blood. Brushing the blood away, he saw a four-pointed symbol made entirely of right angles with the left arm pointing up, and the right pointing down with four red dots in each corner. It glowered potently towards the demon, who recognised it clearly. **"Hmph...svastika. Hinduist version too, clever girl...no one in this ignorant world would even remember such a time when it was just that."** "Brahma shall protect me, all shall protect me. Begone demon...BEGONE!" **"If you think that a little four-point cross is going to stop me then you are going to be VERY afraid soon enou-FFFFAAAAARGH!"** Placing a hand on a desk, he felt a deep burn seize through his claws before ripping the desktop off seeing yet another holy symbol, a three-pointed fork with the middle part its longest, like a sai blade even. The woman smiled softly with eyes closed, tattered remnants of her clothing as she began to chant softly, her right hand low with machete whilst her left began tapping upon her heart. Her chanting took a pulse, a rhythm to herself as if trying to keep a beat. "Gajaa-nanam bhoota-ganaadi-sevitam. Kapittha jamboophala saara bhak-shi-tam." **"Are you TRYING to die quicker you pathetic whore?!"** "Umaasu-tam sho-ka vinaasha kaaranam-" **"SILENCE!"_**

The demon lunged forwards hopping onto the desks to avoid the bloody floor and other hidden symbols lying underneath. With scissors in hand now drawn out from their scabbard, he swung down hard upon the woman's head who striked back with the machete. She was surprisingly strong, with one crack of the blade swinging like a baseball bat she deflected him enough to dodge out of the way. The Scissoraptor was turning frustrated enough by the day's events, and a rambunctious zealot was not improving matters. Now within range he striked at her face, swinging the scissors with the threat of decapitation but she held back fast, holding the machete in both hands to guard as the blade pinged strongly against the demon's own. He swung down at her head once more, she dodged swiftly to the left and swung hard from her left in a cleaving blow for the raptor's shoulder. But he faded swiftly from existence before striking back with a clawing slash to her gut, scraping downwards upon her leg as she gasped and shivered, blood dripping out neatly towards the floor. "N-namaami...vighneshwara, paada...pankajam!" "ENOUGH WITH YOUR BABBLE!" He readied himself for a deepening thrust, Melissa shifting her movement in order to move away from the crib for her son's apparent safety. The demon lunged forwards, but she parried to the side by swinging to her right and scraping the machete down underneath the scissortips. She swung it upwards before punching the monster's face, a haymaker swing that did nothing except irritate him more. He grabbed her arm and readied to break it, but she dropped the machete and shoved her free right hand to his face. The monster roared with a sudden flash of pain making him back off. Some form of red powder had been burnt deeply into her hand, forming another strange symbol. The most powerful symbol in the place was certainly the most hidden. A large stylistic number 3 with an odd short curve double-backing on itself, followed by a swish and a dot hung above it. The demon shook his head clear and swung his scissors outwards, hurling them like a boomerang ready for her head. She did not bother to deflect, but instead she ducked low down to the floor in order to grab her weapon. The scissors however were not unaware, as they spun their way across the room before swinging their way back towards Melissa. That was her time to strike, swinging the machete hard upwards with a scream of force, slamming them upwards into the roof. But that simply delayed them as the raptor's body came close and ready to fight, lashing out with his claws which Melissa blocked. Her machete was covered in blood, and the monster could not care less for how badly his host was cut so long as he was able to get within an inch of the woman's throat, striking out with huge violent swings that clawed a schooldesk in half completely. His force was powerful enough to even slam the blade downwards before he lashed at her throat, catching her upon the shoulder as his claws ripped through bone itself, the woman crying out harshly.

"These wretched symbols mean NOTHING you pathetic worm, now DIE!" "I won't...let you harm my son! Not while I still live, not while...Brahma still sees me!" "You worship livestock that feigns to be as human as you, how can you possibly be able to stop me?!" She put her right marked hand up to her face and breathed in the burnt powder, chanting to herself. "Om...trayambakam, yajaamahe sugandhim-" "Shut UP you stupid worn-out hag!" Her left shoulder had been scraped brutally, causing a nerve sensation bordering on epileptic as she struggled to regain feeling back inside it. But her right arm still swung the blade towards him as he tried to grab her throat, or at the very least try to wound her stomach as the scissors soon freed themselves from the roof, whirling down upon her head before she backed off fast in a two-step dodge. She breathed through her nostrils only, focused and intent with a spirit the demon was surprised at seeing. Especially in a woman such as this. The demon rushed forwards to strike at her, grabbing the scissors with one hand from the floor as he passed whilst lunging hard forwards with the other, grappling her deadened left arm and pulling her towards him. He readied his blades to send them driving into her gut. "Your time is now, old woman-NNNNRRRAAAGH!" The slice of the machete across his face sent a deep cleansing burn violently through his deadened flesh, shuddering harshly as he saw the blade itself had also been marked of many symbols, all painted red. It wasn't blood either, the smell was different. This was a much more powerful mark that she wielded, the demon snarling to her face: "Are you this wretched that you cannot survive without a worthless charm?!" "Are you so wretched that you cannot accept weakness as a part of you?" "I. AM NOT. WEAK! I AM IMMORTAL!" "Immortality is but a state of being, it is neither weak nor strong. If one so lives forever with a heart in agony, can they truly be called strong forever?" "My heart does not ache, my heart is nonexistent for it is in itself a weakness! I will cut out this host's heart, once I have him fully under my control and no more shall I feign weakness of any sort to my enemies OR my prey!" "Cutting...hmhmhm...the only thing to cut out of him is you. But a soul cannot be cut." "I beg to differ...you have not seen what I can do YET!" She smiled and readied her blade like a warrior true, unflinching in her madness, her finality true. The demon responded with a gashing strike, clashing upon the blade with his scissors which sent rivers of pain transgressing throughout his spirit, shuddering as the holy markings pulsed with agony. He resisted hard as he pushed back against her, sword upon scissors shrieking madness of steel flesh. He had been weakened certainly, but he was nowhere near incapable of fighting back with full vengeance as the woman chanted: "Pushtivardhanam, urvaarukamiva bandhanaan-" "Stop. Wasting. Your breath." "Mrityor muksheeya maamritaat." "RrrrRRRRAAAARGH!"

Headbutting her suddenly as she finished her chant, he spun violently fast with full swing of the blades. Their aim had not struck true, but it did enough to finally stop her. A deep reddening bliss came pouring out her stomach, glimmering like sunset upon a dark lake. Her legs began to feel wet, her body softly shaking as she struggled to stand up. Slowly she began walking, hobbling over towards her son's crib where a voice would softly stir. "I...will not...let you h-harm my baby...not while I still live." "Your child is long dead, festering woman." "NO! NO I REFUSE TO LET HIM DIE! HE'S MINE! I LOVE HIM! I LOVE HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD, AND I WILL NOT LET YOU HURT HIM! I killed for him...I killed so many to save him..." "I know...I have seen the marks upon these bodies. But your child is...wait." The demon walked closer towards her as she wielded her sacred blade, panting heavily as blood poured from her lips unceasing, gasping hurriedly as he closed his eyes softly. "...he is not yet dead...his spirit is so weak...so frail...unusual for a child." "I...I know that he lives. I know that he...hungers deeply." "...he does not smell human." "You know nothing of humans." "I know what is dead and what is not living." "...oh, s-sweetie." She gently pulled open the covers to reveal her newborn "son". Whether it was human or not was entirely up to the viewer, but there was certainly a similarity. The demon guessed perhaps it was nearly 2 years old, not exactly newborn but neither was it exactly human. The worn decaying flesh, bloated stomach and bone-thin arms with misshapen head, gave a more frightening appearance of something once human. But it still cried like a baby, a raspy braying scream that any mother understood, even with such a voice. "He's hungry again...poor thing." "I have only ever seen a child that young once, with such a ghoulish complexion. He cannot be yours truly." "DON'T you ever say he is not mine, I love him, I gave birth to him!" "Lies. This thing has come from elsewhere but he is certainly not born of your womb." "And how would you even know that?!" "He does not share the same scent as you." The woman leaned hard against the crib shuddering deeply, blood trickling softly through the bars as the little one reached out to her face, hissing with harsh breathing as if desperate to feed. She felt her body start slowing down as she looked upon his face. She knew what had to be done.

"Are you...going to kill me, demon?" "Do you think I would have come here suffering your foolish trickery if I wasn't going to? I would have killed you sooner had I not been so...indisposed as of today with other infuriating subspecies besides you." "Then...then I offer...I want to make a deal." "A deal?! Involving what??" "I wish...I wish to give myself...in order to save my son." "What?!" "A deal...to protect my son's spirit." "...I do not protect those ready to die." "He is NOT. DEAD! He breathes still, his soul still flickers, weak but it lives doesn't it?! You have marked another before, haven't you?" "...how do you know that?" "I have seen...her. A spirit floating past, through the vales of death howling around this place. She...she was watching you, haunting you...James...her sweet James." "Spirit? I...what spirit could that have been, I did not sens-...wait, that warrior...he had a strange scent upon his death." "Yes?" "Was it...no, whatever, it matters not. You are offering a deal are you?" "My soul, for my son's spirit to live. So long as he still lives and I make this offer, you can't do anything to him...can't you? And you must honour that deal, for you are still bound by laws of this universe...you cannot escape that." "You are oddly versed in demonology, mortal." "I am...I have steeped myself far deeper in blood...than a mortal ever should." She smiled up at him with yellowed teeth, remnants of human flesh turned mushy and half-eaten from between her teeth as the demon smirked at such eagerness, the child staring up at them blindly with glazed eyes. "You would rather die, and give yourself to me...than to give up your child now heartless? Mourning for his soul that never existed freely, to remain trapped within that husk of a body forever?!" "Yes...I would. A mother...never starves...if their children's bodies are filled." "What?" "So long as my child is not hungry...I will not starve, for I am full with him. I have nothing in this world but my son, and I do not care what the rest of the world sees or desires. All...I have...is my son and I will NOT let anyone hurt him...never." In that moment, the demon felt a strange sensation of pain and discomfort, running down his neck, slithering beneath his spine and down to the pit of his stomach where he shuddered harshly. It was a warm feeling. Not a good feeling but one more akin to sickness and disease, as if some sort of stomachache had come forth through him. As he looked upon the woman, her monstrous child festering within his crib, the entire scene suddenly turned uncomfortable to him, making him ask himself:

"...what...wh-what is this feeling? I...nnngh!" He placed a hand on his head instinctively, the pain shooting back up to his mind as his clawed feet started to tremble. He began feeling hot, like a fever coursed through him as his stomach turned worse inside him, even when he didn't have one. Then he realised it was more his chest that began to ache. "This...this pain is not...nnnngh, wretched woman, must have caused some disturbance greater than I thought within my host's body. ...yet...why, does this feel so...warm this...pain in my chest I-NRAAAH!" He clutched his chest in an odd way, wincing slightly as he gasped with this new pain he had not experienced. One he never knew could exist to him. A pain of the heart. Memories came flowing back to him, ones he had not reminisced in many years as he tried to stifle them, shaking his head snarling with frustrations as voices flowed back to him. "Mummy loves his little monster." "What is this?" "You were the one I've always waited for, sweetie." "Shut up." "I know my family have always...harboured a darkness within itself." "Shut UP." "You're going to make the most wonderful little creature once you're old enough to kill for me...make the world pay for what they did to me. My...dear sweet Bobby-" "SHUT UP IT'S NOT THE SAME!" "I love you...always-" "ENOUUUGH!" _ His roar echoed fiercely through the small school, shattering the windows that remained as a great source of power exerted itself from him. Desks flung themselves over violently, the woman hugging her child tightly against the crib making sure he would not fall over. **"IT'S NOT THE SAME, IT'S NOT THE SAME AT ALL! I AM FREE FROM THAT FAMILY, I WILL NEVER BE THEIR SLAVE AGAIN, THIS FILTHY VERMIN MORTAL AND HER MUTATED HUSK OF A CHILD I-...I WAS...much...MUCH more powerful than that worthless THING you call your own son."** "His spirit," said Melissa harsly, "it still...breathes for me. Mine no longer breathes, for I have tainted it so long...my son, my son is free...you...are imprisoned in a flesh-filled cage." **"SILENCE!"** He striked upon her face, scarring her eye clean through as she gasped with shuddering pain. But still she did not relent, simply smiling from her agony as she watched the demon's tirade. **"I am not some pet to keep in a cage of flesh, NO MORE! I am free, free to bring chaos upon humanity as was my purpose always! James finally freed me from that mansion after so long...so, so long was I trapped within those walls, always changing always turning always BUILDING more...even when they moved an entire mansion to another place brick by brick I was trapped still within. But not anymore...now...I am finally...free."_** "Then show me your freedom...I offer a deal."

She opened her hand towards him, the one still marked by the symbol of Aum, an odd stylistic number that confused the demon. The child was aching more to feed, crying angrily as she rubbed upon his belly. "Shhh-sh-sh-sh, it's okay...this one will help you, he understands...mothers must always make sacrifices for their children. All sacrifices..." "A survivor...by any means. Just as I thought...this...son of yours, would you truly die for him?" "Yes," said Melissa. "I want him to live, I have done far wrong than him, he does not deserve a fate like me." "His fate is already worse." "I don't care. I won't abandon him...he...he looks...I had one just like him...same face...Samuel..." "Very well. You offer your soul in exchange for your son to remain protected. Normally I would be protecting the one who makes the deal." "But there is nothing that says the one offering can offer their soul to protect another...is there?" "......no. There is not. It is...I have never heard of such an arrangement before, it is...odd to see this reversed." "I offer my soul to you. I will give you my spirit, a cursed spirit, one steeped in blood for you to taste...all so you can save my son with a mark of destiny." "Destiny? Hmhmhmhm, no, you are wrong. It is by desperation that he shall live, not destiny." "Call it what you will. Now make this ritual for me." "There is but one problem. Your child cannot take your life, can he?" "...he can." "What?" "I've always...fed him since the day I found him. But now...I think he is now old enough...for him to feed himself." The moment she leaned forwards, the child's gristled teeth suddenly lunged at his mother's throat, tearing into her flesh and chewing upon the larynx with such vicious hunger that the demon was surprised. It was a slow painful death, one that became a struggle between both air and blood to take her life the swiftest, mixing in her lungs to suffocate her slowly. She gasped hotly, choking up red thickened drops upon her lips as she laid her head across her son's chest, the child eating away at her. She smiled warmly at him, seeing his eyes fester with hunger as he grabbed onto her face, teeth now prominently grown in as he slavered and drooled upon her skin ripping and chewing the strips ravenously. The demon felt an odd painful reminiscence inside his central being, watching the son feed. He didn't like what he was feeling, almost similar to when the anomaly tried wounding him. He watched her jugular spurt thickening all over the cot, reddening it to drip out the sides as the young creature fed on her throat muscles, rich and viscous. "You...you are that willing to...what is this? What is this you are trying to do? Is not the purpose of humanity to fester and die struggling to survive? Why give this poorly thing your life when it clearly cannot sustain without you?! He wasn't even your son what are you trying to achieve you INSANE woman!? ...what is the point of this sacrifice?" But he was answered by no one, the sounds of chewing filling the room as Melissa passed on from this world. Her spirit slowly breathed out of her body, strong and tainted. The demon sighed seeing her drift to him, as he opened his maw and devoured her fully. She tasted like wine badly-matured and ill-kept, bodied thickly with blood and stringest with madness...but at the same time there was a strong potential in her, one he had tasted before in this place, in this world. He walked forwards as he waited for Samuel to stop feeding, laying him down as his scissors raised up above him. His eyes began glowing with his mother's spirit sacrificed to him, the voice changing to its eerie human pallour. "By the eye of the Great Father, I offer you a taste of immortality..."

It was at least an hour later that he left the Williamsport Day School, watching the dark moonlit sky peer down upon him. Ramona sat waiting at the doorsteps, shivering to herself, wrapped within her thick jacket as she struggled trying to keep warm. She looked up to see the demon exit as she stood to attention, asking shakily: "I-i-is she...dead?" "...yes." It was the second time she had heard him speak like that, the soft hesitance further intriguing her. "...did something happen? You seem...different ever since that hospital." "I have many things to consider, none of which are helped by your inane babbling." "Oh...okay. I...I heard a lot of noise, screaming and shit, did...you do another ritual or something, I heard a monster even or was that you-" "BE. QUIET!" Gripping her by the jacket he thrust her upwards sneering vile fury into her face, scraping snout upon nose as he breathed bitter threats. "I...am sick of you." "Wh-wh-what?" "Leave me." He dropped her onto her feet before she stumbled over back onto the dirt, whimpering rather worriedly. "Wh-wh-...what you mean leave?" "I SAID GO! LEAVE! AWAY FROM ME! DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND BASIC COMMANDS, YOU BASTARD CHILD?!" "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, I JUS-GHLK!" Suddenly knocking her over harmlessly, he placed a foot upon her throat knowing that her mark prevented him from pushing downwards by its inherent force. But she wouldn't know that truly as she choked in response, throttling in her fearful panic as she gasped at the Scissoraptor closing in on her face. "I...will lock you in that school where a flesh-eating monster now lives, and if you so want to experience the same death as its former meal then I suggest you run away, VERY fast and never stopping until your worthless heart expunges itself. Is THAT basic enough for you, Ramona Andrews?" "Y-y-...y-yes...p-perfectly, master." "Good. Now." He put his foot off her and pointed towards Attica. "Go." She ran the moment he answered, digging her heels into the dirt and scarpering off towards the river, hurriedly whimpering and heaving with fretful fear in her stomach threatening to vomit up. She never stopped running. Always was her life just simply running away. Never to look back. The demon watched her sneering at her shape, disgusted by her existence as he turned back towards the northwest, seeing the outskirts of this small town greeting an open desert. A deep sigh poured through his being, asking himself: "Why? What use does this wasteland have for such strong spirits? Why in the span of a single week, have I met three humans far stronger in spirit than any I have met? Even that worthless Daniel had something in him...that strength before his guilt took him...the strength they have to keep fighting against death, even with nothing left for them...and yet so eager to die for the sake of others. ...Why is humanity so stupidly stubborn and irrational?"

He left Williamsport as he headed north, slanting towards northwest seeking more souls to feast with more sluggish gait. He felt rather "full", or rather the precise word to use was that he was not hungry as much as he usually was. The stomach feeling was still churning away in him, and he felt that if he found more typical human prey than it would pass at the very least. Too many strange souls for him to deal with, stranger than even the aliens he had slain in the previous world. But they still tasted the same at their very being, the same emotions, horrors, memories and grief for him to savour. Here however he had faced several humans all with a strong spirit, desperate to live but not so much that they would willingly sacrifice anyone to keep living. It was an odd taste, one he had never felt before. That wasn't true when he started to remember the piercing taste, a bitter strong light that made him sneer with disgust. "That...of course...that insufferable goodness...that is why I must be feeling strange, these souls must have something disagreeing with me. That sodomite of James had a taste like that, what little I could taste of him. I must find something typical, something normal, something...innocent. I must find something soon, I feel James starting to wake up...took longer than usual for him, was that because of me or am I turning him weaker finally? Hmph...let us hope it is the latter." He walked for three hours straight, seeing not a single soul approach on the wasteland without singularly breaking his stride once, stern and resolute whilst ignoring every pain that creeped softly within his heart or being. Creatures scurried past, giving him a wide berth but he did not care, he didn't need a worthless animal's soul, he needed something fresh, something warm, something human. Half the time he closed his eyes seeing darkness not welcome him, but it was darkness all the same. A false darkness, one that he knew would not embrace him. He could not sleep. He did not sleep. He did not want to stay awake. Soon he found a small light of hope, a beacon upon the wastes sitting in the desert wind. A red farmhouse two storeys high but without a farm to call it anything else. A simple house with a small light coming from within it. He wasn't even sure what time it was, but from the sounds of children laughing from inside, he was now certain of one thing as a smile crept along his face. He found his purpose once again. "Hmhmhmhm...it's past your bedtime...little children."

"James?" Her voice broke through as darkness suddenly lifted, his head raised up from a solid block of wood. A row of bottles lined up in front of him, the old smells returning back to him of beer, ale, vodka, and cider all mixed within one cocktail of scents. Sarah stood before him behind the bar. She smiled coolly with a long silver smirk upon her dolphin head, old eyes and a brown shirt with white underneath, her arms crossed on top of her bosom. "You alright?" "Yeah," said James of younger days, "just...bored." "Heh...not off to Mahmoud's to check out his new bikes?" "He's out of town, says he's gonna get some new parts or something, I dunno, wasn't paying attention." A few seconds after he said this, she slammed the bar down with both hands in front of him, making him wake up suddenly with a spasm of reflex. "WH-WHAT THE HELL!?" "You need to pay attention then." "Wha-huh?!" "This is why I don't let you into my work, you don't pay attention to enough things around you." "Aw come on it was just a phrase, why you gotta pick on everything I do?!" "You know as well as I do that you can't live on these streets without being aware of everything. I at least hope you remember how to stop pickpockets the way I taught you." "Yeah I know..." His eyes went over towards the TV up in the corner to his left, situated neatly enough for everyone to see within the room, a sizeable 36-inch running through some domestic drama. He tried to watch it for a bit, but got annoyed after seeing the sunny beachside houses and perfect human couples, the odd anthro here and there just to mix it up. Sarah looked around the bar seeing how empty it was, the many chairs and tables all situated in the underground rectangular space with stone walls of homely atmosphere. The raptor looked up asking: "Can I drink yet?" "No." "Aw come on I work here!" "And you're not old enough, you're what, fifteen?" "Pfft, you? Talk about rules?" "What I do on the surface I keep my nose clean, and I hope to god you keep yours clean too. I could have asked anyone to help me." "Uhhh no, because nobody wanted to work with you." "Including you?" "...not...not like that I...I like being here. I get a bed finally." "You were only homeless for what, a few months, five? Six?" "That was still a long-ass time!" "You're lucky, you should be thankful." "I am...just nothing to do, place is fucking dead."

The bartender shook her head at this, seeing the twitchiness of his youth petering out. "Heh...dry days tend to happen every once a while, people wanna hang with their families or something. Usually that means a good thing when people are not in bars, it means they have stuff to do." "Why did you even set up this place?" "My husband did, we wanted to live a life with the working people up in the big city...didn't quite work out." "What happend to him?" "We split up." "...that sucks." "Yeah." "And the...being a criminal?" "Community warden." "Right, that." "Circumstances happen James. I can't explain how or why it happened but long story short, you get robbed once too often, you have your hand on a gun, you find a way to stop people from ever fucking with you again." "Heh...sounds badass." "Once I start to remember it better I'll tell you." "So that means, never?" "Heh...naaaah I'll tell you one day, you've only been here a year." "Not that different, everybody just talks with a different accent." "Is it better or worse than London?" "...better. Now I have someplace to be." He smiled up at her softly as she smirked back, shaking her head softly before she heard something coming from the front. "Oh, look sharp." He sat up proper as the sound of feet came running down the steps to the bar's front door. Sarah put her hands underneath the wooden counter just in case, but soon relaxed once she saw a familiar face. A ragged somewhat husky human male of pale description, a thin head on a slightly too-large body. James once saw a guy like him on the front of a christmas charity poster, wrapped in scarves and a badly-worn cloak. "Gregory," said Sarah sternly, "how many times do I gotta tell you, back door for business!" "S-sorry boss," said Gregory, "just, ch-change the channel over, put it on one-one-five." She didn't even question it, flicking the channel over with the remote as the red and blue of police flashed hard onto the newsreel currently happening. A tickertape of state-wide news constantly looped as James watched with interest, hoping they got to see a shootout going on. He recognised the brief overshot of an area before it went back to studio, two people talking about something that had happened as a black human newscaster in a sharp suit continued in media res. "The police are now currently searching for a babysitter that was last seen on the premises. A neighbour, who saw her enter the Parker household driving up in a dark-blue Bond Savior, saw the mother speak briefly with the woman before Mrs. Parker left the household in her own car. The woman, who called herself Sandra Hague according to Mrs. Parker, has gone missing from the household and was the last person present. If you see this woman, please call the police on this number."

The face that popped up was an artist's impression of an anthro female canine, a collie sub-breed particularly smiling coquettishly to the camera. Full cheeks, pale eyes, black-and-white furmarks with emphasis especially for the black pooling of freckled marks upon the whites of her lower left cheek. Sarah's hand suddenly clenched upon the bar wood, turning slowly towards Gregory still standing by the door. "...how many?" "...three." "When was this?" "...five hours ago." "...god fucking SHIT!" Slamming her hands on the wood, she made her command: "Get Howard, tell him to meet me here in five minutes and we shut down the area." "Wh-what's going on?!" asked James. "Nothing, just someone we have to stop." "Who?!" "None of your business, go to your room! I'll be out all night, bar's closed tomorrow." She rushed out to the back and readied to grab her coat, taking her guns with her before pocketing them in her holsters, Gregory walking in behind her towards the back living area that was for personal use. James followed after before Sarah pushed him back towards the stairs, making her way up with him. "Who's this bitch on the news and why do you care?!" "Because I'm the one who looks after this city, now go to your room James! I'm locking the place up after I leave and I won't be coming back until tomorrow." "But, at least TELL me what's going on!" "No!" "Why not?!" "This doesn't involve you!" "Why the fuck not?!" "This DOESN'T involve you James! Look." She grabbed him by the shoulders steadying him to stare into his face. "You know nothing about this and I never want you to, now stay inside and don't answer the door for anyone until I come back. I need you to promise this." "But...but why?" "This...person...is a very dangerous woman. I do not want you to even touch, or look, or even breathe on the doorlocks to this place, I want you to stay here, nice and safe, and to not do anything until I come back. I need you to do this for me...promise me." "Bu-" "Promise me for god's sake." Staring deep into her eyes he saw something new he had never seen from her in the year hence he had known her. A fearful awakening coming with the softest shiver in her voice beneath the rage quietly boiling away. "I...I-i-i promise. I promise Sarah. But...who is she? Some kinda mass murderer?!" "No," she said, "more like a demon." "Wh-what?" "I know you're not technically a kid...but I don't want her seeing you. I don't want anymore kids to see her. Not again." He backed off slowly as she went up to her room, the raptor following up after heading to his own across the landing. She gathered her things, ammo, pager, both revolver and sawn-off shotgun locked and loaded to the brim. She looked like she was arming up for war, which made the raptor all the more scared even. "...Sarah? SARAH, SARAH WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?! SARAAAH!" But she was gone into the night, locking the place with a series of clicks he now found familiar with, locking himself inside his room out of a fear now injected from his own caretaker. He worried about her, wondering what sort of person could be so terrible that even she was afraid of them. He closed his eyes softly and sat up cross-legged on his bed, staring up at the walls around him of movie posters and electronica. Blood dripped from his mouth as his eyes opened up once more.

He knew it was not his blood, sitting on the floor as his eyes unfocused, legs crossed feeling something wet and warm come trickling round his huddled feet. His eyes were even more bloodshot now than ever, green now faded flickering from his iris with skin turning paltry in a more sickly tone of desert-brown. Even his purple markings now looked glazed over, a weaker state of being despite his body having not atrophied. In his lap was a voice recorder, seated with a message scrawled in blood with the words FOR MY DEAREST JAMES upon a piece of paper. It played out a story to him, hearing his own voice speak back to him as two boys talked along with him, one much older than the other more excitable little brother. "Hello theeeeere." "WH-WOAH, BEN! BEN LOOK, THERE'S A DINOSAUR AT THE DOOR!" "Whut?!" "YEAH, look izza biiig dinosaur!" "Hmhmhaha, that's right I am, I came from the south, and I need a home to, stay for the night. We're not warm-blooded you see, I get cold very, easily." "Awwww nooo you'll freeze out there, maybe-" "Barry!" "Whuuuut?!" "...are you REALLY a dinosaur?" asked the older one. "Oh yes I am, look, see my teeth? See my claws? ...see this long, thick tail of mine and no shoes on my feet?" "Heeheheheee, yer funny!" "Mom told me never to let no strangers in here." "Good of her to say! That means I'll, just have, to be your friend if I want, to come in, is that right?" "Mmmmmm he DO gotta point there Benny," replied the younger. "Don't call me Benny, it's Ben!" "Sorrryyyyyyy heheheheee! But this dinosaur looks REALLY COOL can he come in, pleaaaase?" "No, I don't trust him, you're not old enough to know these things Barry!" "How old are you?" asked James. "Fifteen, what's it to you?" "Hmmmm that makes you, the man of this house then doesn't, it? What can I do to be, your friend?" "Leave." "...you're not a nice boy." "Yeaaah Benny," said Barry, "yer not nice!" "You know what happens to boys who, aren't nice, don't you?" "Whut?" "This." James looked up, seeing the door splintered in two as the tape kept on playing. Screams suddenly echoed across the entire room as the pounding of feet went every which way, two of which were small boots with the third being his own claws clacking on the kitchen floor. He saw the remains of it right in front of him, a chair overturned here, a streak of blood there strung out on linoleum, black on red between white tiles as the demon's voice awaked from the tape on his lap. He spoke with glee as the older boy screamed at him, the sounds of a body being dragged hard across the floor.

_"AAAAAAAAAARGH!" "You can run but I'll find you eventually...I have big brother Benny here and if you don't come out, then I'll have to start things without him...and we wouldn't that now would we?" "LEAVE 'IM ALONE!" "BARRY, RUN!" "WHUT?!" "GET SIS, TAKE HER AN' RUN!" "I-I DON', I'M SCARED, I DON' WANNA!" "JUST RUN DAMMIT, KEEP HER SAFE!" "Brave little boy aren't you?" "GO TO HELL YOU BASTARD" "Hmph...brave, but still pathetic." "A-AAAAAAAAAARGH!" "Now you stay right there...and I'll see if I can't find your siblings so we can have a little celebration together...of freedom, without any stuffy adults to bother us with rules and safety and precautions now wouldn't that be good?" "G-GHhhk...no...please, n-not them, don't do it!" "And keep all the fun to yourself? Such a greedy bad boy, tsk tsk tsk...Baaaaarrryyyyyyy...your favourite dino friend is heeeeeere..." _

James tried to shut it out, but he couldn't move his fingers to press stop on the tape. He knew why he had it, why he was playing it, that bloody handwriting on top of the tape written just for him as his bloody claw hung over it fearfully shaking. He gazed towards his right seeing a trail of blood from where his right hand had been placed on the floor, hearing the next part skip. One boy's arm, the oldest he knew as Ben, had been pinned underneath a heavy bookcase as his face peered up at James mutely, stark with tears upon his cheeks still wet. Like the blood pooling around the raptor's feet. "Little John from the big castle plays with little boy...snip, snip, snip...off goes his head...bright, red, bright, red." "MOOOOOOOMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" "Little John from the big castle plays with little girl...Stab, stab, stab...she loses her sight...bright, white, bright, white." "P-please STOP it wh-why are you doing thi-i-is...please d-don't, please, please, PLEAAAAASE!" "Little John...from the big castle-" "No, n-n-no please, please don't, don't hurt her, n-not my sis, she didn't DO ANYTHIIIING!" "Found another friend...slash, slash, slash...straight to his tummy...out his sides...red, and, yum...my." _"N-N-NOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGH! MOOOOOOOOMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!" _ It was in that very moment that James felt empty. Nothing was left in his heart, not fear, not sorrow, not even anger. Not a single feeling left flickering in his jaded green eyes as he stared bluntly upon the tape recorder in his lap. He couldn't even bring himself to see the room around him. A living room blood-red with its former inhabitants, the remains of three children simply scattered from around him. Half a boy laid to his right, the other half laid on the other side of the green worndown couch now seated behind him, drab beige walls streaked with violent red incandescence.

The table in the middle of the room had been where the other two sat, propped in clear view for the oldest brother's horror. Barry he could not see, seeing many parts all around him, all wearing the same clothing now in bits and pieces. A small arm grabbed the side of the table, a leg underneath with a small shoe, his head nowhere to be seen. The unknown sister he saw right in front of him. His scissors. They now stood impaled right inside her head deeply through the table, staring upon him wickedly by their handles now high above her body. Her feet splayed out before him, a small green dress fit for a toddler, blood dripping down the middle. "Such poor things," said the demon upon the tape recorder, "They stayed up too late and simply tired out...hmhmhmhahaha ha ha ha ha haaaa...ohhhh Koopin...you were right...I am good with children...aren't you James? In fact...I might take back a souvenir for him...oops...I dropped it. Right in that puddle. Now that stain I'll never be able to clean." He knew what had been dropped. Sitting in the puddle of blood in front of him, was the photograph of his beloved. Stained and drowning in the blood of children, his face had been very cautiously rubbed out viciously by a deep fingerprinted stain of thick red on him, leaving the rest of the family untainted except for the thickening red slowly trying to consume it. The tape recorder finished its message with his own voice mocking back to him, simply saying: "You always were a killer James...that's why I wanted you...why you took my blades as your own so many years ago. You needed me. You WANTED me. But you thought that I was your weapon, that you could just wield me like a child with his favourite toy sword. But you can't. Do you know why? I. Own. You." _ The Scissoraptor's voice distorted back to its original form, chuckling happily. **"Hmhmhmha ha ha ha...what a stupid fool you were, thinking you could change what you really are. A ruthless violent murderer who lusts only for the great savagery upon all creatures, the glory of death and misery upon all who dare_** FUCK with me...remember you saying that? I did, and so you should as well, because the sooner you come to realise this, the less painful this will be...that way...I won't ever have to show you such things again when I take your soul as mine...permanently. This is your final warning. Give up your soul to me now...and I shall spare you of this pain of existence...forever." The tape clicked. Silence came back to him apart from blood dripping down onto the floor, the table cracked in front of him as he slowly got up. He picked up the photo automatically, wiping it off clean as best he could but knowing that his face was forever marked too deep just to simply erase what he had done. As he tried to walk past the scissors unmoving, they suddenly trembled feeling his departure, rumbling deep vibrations through the table before snapping under its weight, falling upon the floor as he saw the young sister's eyes. Staring at him. Blonde-dirt hair.

She hadn't even been given the chance to scream from the way her eyes dumbly looked at him, senseless without fear of anything except sudden swift pain. Her suffering was given to her brothers, made to watch her execution as James pulled the scissors from her head, blood dripping from the tips as he slowly walked out of the house. He could not leave them here. He wanted them to be with him, somewhere far away. Somewhere deep. Someplace where he would make a grave for himself. As he walked away from the ruined farmhouse, he began muttering to himself as he panted sharp breaths, hot and thick within the long night with a voice completely flat and monotone, emotion all drained from him. "No. No. Can't...can't forgive. Can't be...can't. It's my fault. It's all my fault. I brought him here. I came here. I wanted to come here. I should have known better. Got kidnapped. Got drugged. Let him take me. Kill with my bare hands. She. She didn't. They didn't deserve this. Never. Never kill kids. Never kill kids. Never, never kill kids. She'll hurt me now. Kill me, kill me if she ever found out I did." His right eye started twitching, a shudder of fear and sorrow now combined within him as he felt his mind break once again, the lone walk through the desert giving him nothing but himself to think on. The screams repeated inside his ear, over and over again, memories interlaced between both Sarah and the children, horror and shame running thick within his heart. He started to hurt, falling to his knees as he clutched his chest. He couldn't even bring himself to start weeping. Not yet. "No...please, n-not them, don't do it!" "You know what I do to people like them James?" "It wasn't me." "Anyone walks into my town with a child's blood on their hands, and I will KILL them." "Don't hurt her, n-not my sis, she didn't DO ANYTHIIIING!" "I didn't know." "You damn well know what I'm talking about kid, you KNOW what happened to Delaney!" "I was scared of you...I...oh god...hoh god no...I can't, I can't do this...I can't go back." His hands shook before him, not even realising how bloody they were until he noticed, palms up towards him as he pressed them against his face, smearing over his purple marks. He smelt their blood, thick and heavy upon his nostrils, tears finally coming through as the realisation started to creep in. Then it broke into his skull with the force of a mighty hammer. James felt his mind break once again, but that would have been too easy. He would have at least been able to sleep in peaceful ignorance had his mind truly lost itself.

Even worse for him, he felt a strange half-awareness start to awake within him through his madness. He pulled his hands down from his face, his eyes now uneven. One was still a pale green, bloodshot but still his. The other, his right eye, had thinned itself to a deep primal sensation harkening through the dark pits of his mind. He slowly got up, uneven in his gait as he stumbled across the desert, scissors in one hand dragging behind him. His voice began switching between two different people. The flat monotone fear of the broken James Campbell, and the strange guttural noises in the back of his throat of his other self. "I can't go back." What is h-happening? "She'd never forgive me, she'd find out, she always finds out even if she never sees it." Why is...my face smells of hairless but...too fresh. "I can't. I can't ever leave this place, like those kids never did." Where am I going? Why am I walking so strangely, what's this thing I'm dragging?! He walked across the desert, looking all around him trying to find a place of escape, a place where he would finally be free. The moon now faded beyond the horizon, and the sun would come up to meet him. But he did not plan on seeing the sun again, the sky paling but the desert still dark like a field of nightmares. He did not even realise he was speaking another voice, one crawling back from the depths of his memory as it tried to fight against him, trying to understand where he was. Who are you?! Wh-what are you doing to my body, s-stop it! "I want to sleep...so tired." Sleep?! WHO ARE YOU, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! "I can't do this...anymore." Stop it, stop walking and tell me what is going on! What's this blood on my face, whose was it!? WHERE'S MY FAMILY YOU WORTHLESS HALFBREED?! He finally stopped walking, his feet brushing off a trail of dirt that soon went fluttering to the breeze. A pit now laid before him, deep within darkness of the early morn giving him no idea how far it went. How deep it must have been. He wanted it to be deep, deep enough where no one would ever find him again. The scissors hung over the edge lazily from his grip, the raptor slowly putting one foot forwards despite the voice of another protesting. "I'm sorry Koopin." Wh-what are you doing?! "You'd never forgive me." WHAT, NO! DON'T DO THIS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU'LL DIE YOU STUPID HALFBREED! "You're better off without me...everyone would be better off without me." NO! YOU'RE NOT TAKING ME DOWN, I WON'T GO WITH YOU! If you want to give your life away so stupidly then I don't care, but you're NOT taking me! I CAN'T DIE HERE, I CANNOT DIE IN THIS PLACE! "Let me die." NO! I HAVE A FAMILY, YOU KNOW I HAVE A FAMILY BECAUSE YOU TOOK THEM FROM MEEEEEE! "...I had a family." It was the first time he managed to hear the other voice, hearing himself break through in the soft touch of madness now upon his head. His mind was torn between the need to survive and the desire to end this. His regular voice spoke briefly. "I had everything with Koopin, a job, a life...a love. Then this...these scissors...I don't deserve a life." YES YOU DO! I know what you are, I know you've stood up to monsters to save people, somehow I know! I've seen them, the creature showed me, he showed me enough! ...please...p-please... He went on his knees at the edge of the cliff, whimpering strange animalistic howls of mourning. I have a family...I don't, I don't want to die here...not in this place I don't even know. Why are you taking me with you, why can't you let me go?! "Because...wait...who are you?" My...my name is Oddscar...please...I don't know what's happening or how we're even in the same body, are we? Is this...is this what I'm seeing? "...this is my body." No...no this is mine, it's got weird things on it but- "This is my choice." No, no wait! "I'm sorry." No NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOO!

He thrust himself forwards. The sky opened up to greet him as he went falling down towards the pit. Wind rushed past him, his voice howling with shrieks of an unseen nature he had not known, somehow barely acknowledging in the briefest of instants. As his consciousness faded away in grief and madness, his other one suddenly pulled through. Darkness swallowed him. His body never hit the bottom of it. Halfway down the cliff into a dried-out riverbed, the raptor grasped desperately onto the cliff face struggling to hold on dearly, claws shoved into the crackled stone as he shuddered weakly. The scissors he had lost, fallen to the abyss as he slowly made his way down. But he was not used to this, his body uneven and oddly clunky with these strange garments and additional weight on him, his claws somehow feeling less dexterous than they did before. The raptor managed to reach a few feet lower before the rockface betrayed him. The stone loosely came off and he fell into the darkness, shrieking with fear as he saw the ground come rushing up to meet him. He managed to roll forwards but rather badly, sending a driving pain up his legs as he cried out in pain. He wasn't sure how far he had fallen, but it would certainly have been worse had he not stopped himself halfway. As he tried to get up, James or perhaps Oddscar, felt his legs sting with sudden agony like hot burns at the back of his shins, driving from whenever his heels touched the ground. AAAAGH! M-My legs! Wha...are they broken?! He looked to see they were not, but they kept hurting everytime he moved thinking some other injury was involved. His shrieks however brought bad news. The scissors laid in front of him now discarded, but on the other side of them was a large looming silhouette. A creature he had never seen before, huge dark pincers on either side of a beady arachnid mouth, long chitinous back bending up towards a huge lethal-looking tail as tall as him. Scorpions he had never known back in "his" world, but he knew already it was dangerous enough. St-stay back...I'm not...I'm not an intruder...I just...want to leave...I just want to go home. More of the creatures began to fill out behind the clear alpha leader, scuttling around the darkness as two of them came to his left and right, trapping him in as he readied his claws to fight. I'm not your food! I'M NOT GOING TO DIE HERE! I won't, I can't, I will NOT die here!

But they knew he was injured, the blood on his face and the wounded way he walked hobbling around trying to fight back at them gave them plenty enough reason to move in. The raptor lunged forwards at the alpha, largest of them all by a good six feet including the tail while the others reached around five feet. His claws scraped across the top of the chitinous back, not even able to break a piece of it off. The pincers swung hard enough to smack his legs, sending more pain through him as he shrieked and fell down. The tail swung high ready to plunge into his heart. But he dodged as fast as he could with a mind still heavy of madness and grief, his heart aching and desperately trying to keep moving. He felt his other voice calm down at the very least, trying to accept his fate. But Oddscar was different, he had not that same sort of sorrow. He had his own of a family long separated from his spirit, struggling to move backwards with pain shooting up his legs everytime he dodge-stepped. When he tried to attack the creature's face, he slashed across one of the eyes and made it recoil back in pain before the tail swiped him violently across the face. The stinger did not catch, but the blow was hard enough to send him reeling backwards right in front of another smaller scorpion, driving its stinger straight into the raptor's back. The long synthetic veins rippled along down his spine, not that Oddscar knew as he felt poison run through them. A potent vile toxin that suddenly began itching fiercely down his spinal column, shivering and whimpering as a throbbing pain emerged forcing him to turn and strike. He swung down with his claws onto the scorpion that attacked him, slashing out two of its eyes and half-blinding it briefly. But its other companion had come rushing up towards him and pincered his leg, viciously gripping him before it stabbed twice at his back violently fast. Oddscar screamed trying to kick it away from him, but the pain started getting worse. His legs were not helping, as he felt a muscular twitch come running down his legs. Hobbling best as he could, his legs started giving out desperately kicking like a wounded horse, whimpering harder as his belly started feeling full, almost sickly with a need to vomit. He started to sweat, the heat suddenly overwhelmed him as he felt the first rays of dawn start brushing upon the cliffs around him. Chest pains ran deep, pushing harder on him than the grief he had previously felt unknown to him, almost alien to feel like that of a deadened arm you knew was attached to you. His breathing began turning slower, heart rate following with it as he dropped on his knees which began burning with intense heat of a harsher pain. He saw a shadow upon the walls, horned and hugely outreaching across the sun's rays. No...n-no...p-please...Barren...please don't...h-help me...please...help me... James What? He heard a voice murmuring upon the wind, one so familiar as a whispering smoulder drifted across his vision, fading towards darkness. Wake up Who...who are you- Please wake up...you can't die here...not yet Who is James? What do you want with- I need you...I need you James just, please stay awake just a little bit...I'm sorry I...I know you...that...that voice you spoke to me when...that thing showed me and then before that when...the last time I saw Barren. I'm sorry...I never wanted you to suffer like this...please...don't fall asleep I...I can't... Please...just please wake up...James...please...don't die on me... The last thing he saw before his eyes blacked out was a strange dark shadow, one belonging to a beast he already feared in the brief second before sleep took him. A giant beast, one with tremendous horns upon its head leering down upon him with cold white eyes and a fetid breath. His voice was much deeper, and far more primal, than the Scissoraptor's had ever been. " I've...found you."