George was left alone in the store. Max had been the one who accompanied Ann to the hospital. At first, he and his senior had thought Ann to be dead, but when the paras arrived, it turned out that the old lady's breathing was just too weak to be noticed by someone without any medical background. Well, it was possible to be noticed if one knows how close one has to look. Max held her hand and stared at her. He knew something though, despite their wrong "diagnosis" the first time around; Ann was going to die. That much he was sure of.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡevtI7WgoU5
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The paramedics had been watching Ann's condition nonstop ever since she had been tucked in properly in the back of the ambulance, and Max thought, This won't do. He looked at the the para nearest to him in the eyes. The para, who was called Walter (thanks to his nameplate, Max thought), suddenly looked away. The other one followed suit, and it seemed like the two of them found something else interesting either by the window or out in the streets.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡycdRIT3qeP
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Max returned his gaze to the old woman and gave her hand a squeeze. Antoinette's eyes slowly opened and found the young man beside him. She spoke, but it was obviously labored.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdSy2bDT71v
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"Oh you. I thought I was dead." At first, Ann seemed to be having too much pain as she talked, then after a few seconds, she found out that the pain seemed to be abating as seconds went by.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkK4ByveaJr
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Max nodded, then saw Ann's gaze flick to the paras. Just the quick glances. Glances that could've been associated with a chicken if not for her unmoving head. "Don't worry Ann. They can't hear us."508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpq4vL1iEUE
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Ann smiled nervously, and if someone else would see her that minute, he or she would have seen the fear flare up in her eyes, but was also suddenly gone the moment it had appeared. "Your work?" She asked, her head flicking in the slightest towards the paras.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFpeO755EqA
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Max just nodded then asked, "Was this supposed to happen?"508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsrL1bBwDsP
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"The accident?" She asked, a puzzling look on her face.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJl0tWepOYh
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"Not specifically," Max said, then waved his right hand once in the air, "just this, you know, departure."508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ58aY0vnqyh
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Ann understood. For Max, speaking carelessly about someone's death would bring attention on him. "My departure," Ann muttered, as if she had no idea, but followed it with, "It was not supposed to happen before he told about it."508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHLbhwggO60
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Max paused to think. He knew Ann was going to die the moment he saw her. But was her death a fulfillment of whatever she was told? It turned out that the answer was "no". She was left with the statement that the boy, who had grown up to be a man by now, would inform her of her death before it happened. But either this woman forgot about it, or she wasn't really informed. Max believed the latter. Max hadn't felt anything different from the man he seemed to have considered a father recently. The man even seemed to normal. But there are numerous circumstances that could manipulate the events and lead it to what should happen. No matter what way, whatever this old woman was promised will happen should happen or all is lost. Max knew this, and because the promise left to the lady was unfulfilled, he should be feeling afraid, but he was not. He felt that there was something more to what was happening. As to what that would be, Max had no idea. "All will be well, old woman." And these words, even Max himself did not expect. He hadn't spoken in the Sacred Tongue for quite some time now, but he did. And for it, he felt a lot more relieved. Which was the opposite of what he saw on old Ann's face.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbjP5Okp9wH
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Ann heard the words, and despite being different from what this man is, she understood what he said. Besides, she had mingled with someone similar to what he is a long time ago. But it was different. It was truly different. The woman he had mingled with before had once spoken in the same language, but it brought unto Ann a sense of being safe, being protected. But from this man, even though the words were spoken for good intentions, she still felt horrible. She felt defiled, shat upon, sullied, corrupted, poisoned. From her womanhood, she even felt like she was raped, or maybe even gang-raped.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCeuAES1FM7
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But these thoughts lasted only for 5 seconds, because despite this man's nature, she had been told about him. She knew who this man was, she knew what this man was. She knew that he still continued to defy his own nature. "I'm sorry, Max. I just--"508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF02VHtraCM
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"Shhh, it's okay, Ann. Just be relieved. He'd be the one to fix things." But Max knew that despite having spoken in Sacred Tongue, he and Ann shouldn't be relieved. His Tongue was complicated. For the Tongue had two types. One spoke the truth and one spoke complete lies. He possesses both of these, for his nature had been somewhat a mixture. If what he said was the truth, then all would really be well. But if he had spoken a lie, then may God take reign in everything, or all would be lost.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhdNjkpHyRd
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"Fulfilled or unfulfilled, the cogs had started turning already. Did you hear the humming sound earlier?" Ann shook her head, and Max nodded, then continued, "then you were not meant to be involved further in all of this." Max paused, then said, "When the lady sings, then death shall come, unless the hearers act, then fear, for apocalypse has just begun". 508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXpgYJOg4Ga
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Ann closed her eyes. And with it came Max's usual voice, the youthful one, "Sleep now, ma'am. I ain't gonna let things go awry." Then the paras eyes returned, (which they thought had only been diverted for 5 seconds) and continued watching Ann, their eyes suddenly widening, then checked her vitals. They tried reviving her, but it was useless.
This time, for real, Antoinette Shavers died.
*******508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg2WmFhqNjv
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Time went by in a flash, and before he knew it, George was closing up shop. Its was 9:00 pm. He should've closed the shop an hour ago, but he was still shook by the news he had receibed hours earlier, when Max called and informed him that Ann had died for real during the ride to the hospital. "I can't return, Mr. G. My mind's still a mess. I want to go back to sleep early, " Max had said. George just grunted his approval, thinking, Yeah, go and rest kid. You done good today. Then it was Max who had ended the call.
George walked back home, and recalled his very eventful day. It seemed to him that God had probably given a script writer a chance to write one of his days. That motherfucking writer done good, then. That asswipe. He grinned, and then settled to just frowning. He just can't force himself to feel better. A very dear friend had just died, and he can't even bring himself to rush to where she was. Then he realized that all the time he was walking, tears were his company. Damn. If that kid didn't go all emotional, then I got someone to walk with.508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYlOzo7Gp1L
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He walked silently, his eyes on the road. At one moment, he had bent down to pick up a nickel. Then when he straightened up, his eyes was drawn to the window by the side of the road. The Mitchells' house. Mr. Mitchell was by the window, his eyes blank. Ralph Mitchell was staring at him with a hint of fear, ut it was buried too deep within the man for George to officially classify it as one. George knew Ralph, and had been somewhat friends with each other on some occasions. Backyard bbq and stuff. Goerge had known his wife Grace, and the 15 yr old kid Kevin. Kevin had developed some kind of fondness for George, but George didn't really care much for the kid. The kid had something negative about him. But the last time he had actually hung out with them had been a few years ago, and now, they were just nodding acquaintance, (which was rare, since the Mitchells had almost stopped going out of theur house.)508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhreM9cTaje
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George and Ralph looked at each other for some time, and after one full minute, Ralph closed the blinds. No nod this time, George thought. Then suddenly he had an absurd idea; the man by the window was not Ralph. That was someone else. Something else.
Then George forced himself a laugh. "That humming voice done shit your brains." George forced the thought out of his mind, but failed. It kept hanging at the back of his thoughts. But then similarly strange things had pushed themselves upon Ralph as he walked home:
Michael Rogers' voice had reached George, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Fuck! Fuck! You shithead motherfucking, cuntlicking writer! Why can't you whore-devourer write anything! Just write a motherfucking sentence, you sonofadickk!" Then a large crash. Then a final scream "Shitttt!!"508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcz5QOmaCiM
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This made George recoil. Michael Rogers was 32, and a writer. But he wasn't a guy who cussed. Actually, Michael was too timid for George's liking. Whenever Michael accidentally blocks your path, then he would go bowing and saying sorry acouple of time befire rushing off ahead. George had been with Michael in some occasions, and he never once heard him be rude or cuss. This night though, tells him something different about Michael.
Honey Walter, Rebecca Walter's 12 year old daughter was leaning on their gate, speaking to someone. Except that George couldn't see that someone. Maybe its part of the schizo thing the kid has. But George senses something different.
George was looking at his feet, and almost ran into a young man. This was Walter Hanks, and he was one of the paramedics who responded earlier and tried to bring Ann to the hospital before she died. 508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXgvScbn9zU
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"I see them, Mr. Rozier. I watched them die, but I see them again now," the young man said, his voice haunted, his eyes filled with horror. Strange thing was, Walter had a bit of a smile on his face. It wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile of insanity. After speaking, Walter had left him, went the opposite way George was walking while muttering to himself.
George continued walking, his mind convinced that this was all a dream, then walked in front of the Bianchi's house. George looked at the 2nd flokr window, the same way he looked at the 2nd floor window of the Mitchell's house. What he saw made him sure that this was all a dream. 508Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFP3RV5WC7s
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Julia was standing by the window, looking at him, eyes filled with something black. She had an obvious smile on her face, which didn't really look like a smile. It looked more like a very wide grin, a very large smirk. It seemed to reach the base of her ears. Then Julia opened her mouth, normally. Then wider, and wider, and wider still until her mouth seemed to open itself by a foot, and with that, George ran home.
George ran hurriedly, carshing to his door, dropping the key several times, and running straight to the wine cabinet which was placed in the living room. He grabbed a bottle of brandy and snatched the largest glass he could find. He sat on the chair and drank hurriedly. One glass after the other, and soon he was on the verge if sleeping.
But he has his own horrors to attend to. His past. The truth if what happened three decade ago. When he was ten. What happened in that dark room.
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He would remember the real events while he was still awake, and dream the nightmare version when he falls asleep.
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