Chapter 3: The Witness

Normalcy made an futile attempt to struggle it’s way back into Seth’s life. He knew that his life was about to change, he just didn’t know in what way. Nights became restless endeavors filled with staring contests with the ceiling and disturbing nightmares. He did call Tanner to check up on him and got the answer he expected. The nurse at the desk told Tanner that he was in shock. They sent him home and told him to be more careful while driving. That was of no comfort to Seth. His grades dropped as he was commonly late for class because of his vehicle being in the shop and even when he did attend, he was distracted. Seth fell into a cycle of obsession.

Everywhere he went, he would be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. When he would get home, he would rush to the mail slot, sweeping the floor with his eyes, looking anywhere for another note. He would stare at the note that he already had, inspected every part of it, searching for some hidden clue as to who had written it. At times, he would talk to himself, sleep depravation trickling misleading thoughts into the clutter that was his mind. Violet noticed his behavior and though she confronted Seth about it, their discussion led nowhere just as all the ones before it. Finally, she got fed up, left one of her signature notes on the fridge, and went to live with a friend, leaving him alone with his random muttering and his compulsion for an answer. As fatigued as he was, he still could find no truly energizing rest. It was during one of those sleepless nights that Seth, turbulent as ever, began to hear a voice.

The voice was not one that Seth had ever heard, which made it even more unbelievable that it was coming from inside his head. Seth tried to lay very still to reduce any rustling. The voice was frantic and almost incomprehensible. It sounded a bit like a person talking with their nose plugged. The voice would not have seemed intimidating except for the fact that Seth thought it was coming from within. Once again, staying awake for too long had impaired Seth’s perceptions. The voice was in fact coming from the street below. Seth, gradually recognizing this, propped himself up onto his elbow and, looking out into the obscure darkness, listened attentively. Seth could faintly make out a man in a black trench coat, standing on the sidewalk just outside his slightly opened bedroom window, complaining in a shallow whisper.

"It’s always me. Like I’m expendable. Who does Slade think he is?"

The man stood still for a few seconds, his facial muscles tightening in apprehension. Suddenly, he dropped his knees, writhing in pain. He twitched in agony, groaning under his breath.

"My deepest apologies. I’m not used to having you here, my liege."

Seth glimpsed around searching for the man who was being addressed as a superior. Assuming that he was hidden in the shadows, Seth turned his attention back to the man in the trench coat who had stopped convulsion and was getting to his feet. He spoke once again.

"Why can’t we take him in the house?" There was a long pause as though someone was answering the question. "Are we sure the witness will be there?"

The man walked closer to wall and leaned up against it. Seth could no longer see any part of the man’s face. Although he had moved closer to the door light, Seth’s view was obstructed by his window sill. Not wanting to risk being caught listening in, he accepted the loss of visual and tried to listen even more carefully. Seth could see the man’s hand reach out in front of his face to light a cigarette. The smoke rose up to the window, the scent of burning tobacco reaching Seth’s nostrils. The man spoke again.

"Yeah, but it’s my body." A short pause followed. "It’s borrowed."

Seth could make no sense of the conversation because the man or woman who was on the other end was speaking too quiet to be perceived. He strained his hearing, even holding his breath, but he could not make out any sound at all. Seth suddenly realized his stupidity. The man was wearing an earpiece. What kind of a person wear’s an earpiece? Could it possibly be some government organization doing reconnaissance? Seth could see no reason why he would be targeted by a government organization unless there was some unknown conspiracy that he was a part of.

Seth was beginning to feel like a conspiracy theorist himself, and although the man outside didn’t look like a government agent, he didn’t want to dismiss any idea that might lead him to the truth. Could the mob be after him? Could it be a hitman? The government seemed more likely. His imagination seemed intent on keeping him awake for another week by creating the most terrifying proposals. Seth thought about calling the cops, but the man had not done anything illegal yet. He couldn’t be arrested on a charge of acting shady. The man outside was speaking again.

"They’re giving the signal, right?" The earpiece must have given him an answer. "Could it be tonight?"

Seth gulped. He didn’t know what plan was being hatched, but he knew that if it was going down tonight he didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Before taking any action, Seth focused to see if he could collect any more meaningful information. The man spoke for a few minutes before falling silent, apparently waiting for the signal. The signal must not have come because the man stayed outside until dawn. Just as the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon, the man stood up, brushed his back off and, walked down the road, complaining incoherently.

Suddenly, he burst into a full out sprint yelling, "Once again, sir, my utmost apology!"

He ran directly into a brick wall, laid there for a few seconds, then hopped to an upright position and continued walking as though nothing had happened. Seth’s imagination had succeeding in keeping him up all night, not to mention the constant glances outside to check if the man was still there. Seth groggily got out of bed and pulled on a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans. He contemplated whether he should go to school or not, but deciding on the latter, he threw on a jacket and went for a morning coffee at the shop on the corner.

The coffee shop was packed with early risers, anxious for their caffeine fix. Seth stood in line for about twenty minutes, before settling in at a table with a steaming cup of black coffee. He sipped on it, surveying the people in the line bustling around, in a hurry to get to work. He noticed a hand waving madly in the air and when he followed its arm down to its face, he saw that Tyrone was greeting him with enthusiasm. He was near the front of the line, and in almost no time at all, he had settled into the chair across from Seth’s, a mocha grasped firmly in his long, slender hands. Seth looked jealously at Tyrone, his smiling face without a worry in the world. Chipper as usual, Tyrone made small talk, pausing every once in a while to sweep his shaggy, auburn hair from his eyes. Seth wondered when Tyrone was going to bring up poker night and he found out right after Tyrone finished telling him about his grandmother’s sweet cakes.

"So, I was just wondering..uhh..what exactly happened that night, after the poker game," Seth’s cousin asked tentatively, unsure of whether Seth would still be angry about it. "You were acting pretty weird."

"I know. It’s kind of a long story."

Seth let out a deep sigh. He knew that telling someone about the strange things that had been happening would take a load off his chest, but in the back of his mind, he also knew that Tyrone, being scientifically minded, would try to refute any of Seth’s claims. He would refuse to let himself believe that a man could turn invisible, no matter how adamantly Seth argued. Then again, Tyrone’s rationality might be a voice of reason to Seth. After a few seconds of careful deliberation, Seth decided on, not lying, but just keeping some of the truth hidden.

"To be honest, I was frightened," Seth said in a hushed voice.

"That much was obvious," Tyrone responded. "Of what, though?"

"Okay, now this is a little out there, but I think I’m being watched or stalked or something like that. I don’t know if you noticed, but Tanner had a black powder on him. I think that whoever is watching me...that’s his calling card or something."

Tyrone gave an unbelieving look.

"Listen, there was a guy outside my house last night," Seth continued. "I think he might be from the government or something."

Disbelief still plastered on his face, Tyrone said, "So, you think you’re being watched by the government? What’s so special about you?"

"I’ve gone over this in my head hundreds of times and I’ve come up with one theory that fits best. I think I’m being targeted by a killer and the feds are onto him, but they want to catch him in the act before they try to stop him."

Seth was trying to convince himself as much as Tyrone. The idea that the solution to the mystery was that the federal government was trying to protect him, sounded better than any other scenario Seth could come up with. Tyrone was wearing the most incredulous smile.

"You’re joking, right?"

Seth shook his head, and Tyrone put his hand up to his forehead before continuing with, "That was unexpected. I don’t know what to say. I think you should probably get home and get some rest. You look like you haven’t slept in days."

"I haven’t," Seth said dully. "Forget that I even said that. I know it’s crazy. A lot’s just been happening. Tell me about Tanner. What was he like on the way to the hospital?"

"Actually, I’m glad you mentioned that. I’ve been meaning to tell you about that. It was the weirdest thing."

Seth opened his eye’s wide, anticipating the news.

Tyrone continued, "One minute, Tanner was exhibiting the same symptoms as you saw, and the next, he was symptom free. He was dazed, but his skin was it’s normal color and he was talking okay. It was weird. It wasn’t like a gradual thing. It was like the shock just lifted. When we got to the hospital, we didn’t have anything to show, just a story to tell. Tanner did get a nurse, who looked very annoyed, to take a look at his nose, as he claimed that it had been bleeding in the car, but she shooed him off, telling him to wait in line like everyone else. We were out of there in about twenty minutes."

Seth was beginning to wonder about whether his theory of a killer was extreme enough. What Tyrone was describing sounded more like some powerful new biological weapon capable of being turned on and off.

Tyrone still had more to say. "I know this isn’t related...or maybe it is, I don’t know, but just as Tanner got better, Bill lost control of the car, hit the curb, and bounced onto the sidewalk. He’s usually a pretty good driver. He said he didn’t know what happened. He doesn’t really remember turning the wheel or anything. When he described this to us, Tanner said that he had experienced the same feeling when he fell asleep at the wheel. I can see why you’re a little bit paranoid. Something fishy is definitely going on. Bill and Cosmo had a long talk about it while we waited at the hospital. They might have some more ideas about what went on. My memory is a little foggy."

Seth had been so absorbed in Tyrone’s story that he didn’t notice that the morning rush was over. The only other customer left was a man sitting at the coffee bar, reading a newspaper. The time had passed so quick.

"Tyrone, I’ve got a few things I’d like to check on today, but I want to talk more about this. How ‘bout we meet here tomorrow again?"

Tyrone agreed and they parted ways. Seth had already missed his first lecture, but hoping that Reed wouldn’t have to teach a class until later in the day, he headed for the university. He wanted to see his professor again. They say that rain makes you sad and sunlight lifts your spirits, but as Seth stepped out into the scorching heat of a spring chinook, his mood remained as low and pessimistic as before. Professor Reed did have an early morning lecture, much to Seth’s disappointment. The thought of breaking into Reed’s office to steal the vial did find it’s way into Seth’s mind, but just as before he pushed it away, feeling guilty for even thinking it. He wondered if eventually he was going to have to go to the drastic measures which he had been trying to avoid.

The main reason Seth had left the conversation with Tyrone was to call Violet before she went to the deli. Despite everything that was going on, Seth did still love her. He wasn’t going to let a rough patch end their relationship. He realized that he would have a lot of explaining to do if she took him back. He called from his house. Seth had no experience pleading with a woman to take him back, so as the phone rang, he tapped his foot and bit his lip nervously.

"Hello."Cecilia, Violet’s friend answered the phone.

"Hi, it’s Seth is Violet there?"

Seth heard his girlfriend’s voice in the background.

"He actually has the nerve to call me? Does he think it’s going to be that easy? Tell him I don’t want to talk. Tell him he doesn’t deserve me."

"She doesn’t want to talk to you, right now."

"Could you just let her know that I’m sorry?" Seth said, but the phone on the other end had already been hung up. Seth’s head hung low.

Seth could almost imagine Violet chortling to herself. There were times when he wondered if she was proud of her cruelty. She had almost always been kind to him, but when someone else rubbed her the wrong way, she didn’t hesitate to speak her mind, as harsh as it was. Seth certainly didn’t like being on the other end of it. It was almost as though she had a double personality. One was her cheerful, cute self that at times seemed a little forced. The other was the snappy, irritable self that showed itself almost as often as the other. His friends constantly asked him what he saw in her, but they didn’t understand. Bill and Cosmo were both married and Tyrone seemed more interested in comic books than in woman. It wasn’t easy for Seth to find and hold on to a girlfriend. Confidence had always been an issue for him. As the day turned to night, Seth’s investigation stalled, filling with dead ends.

Seth had expected the late night visitor to be waiting outside the window again, but he did not show up that night. Seth actually managed to rest a little easier and get about six hours of sleep. There were cold sweats and panicked sleep talking, but at least he was sleeping. The following day was best described as lonely. Tyrone didn’t show up for coffee in the morning. Seth waited for more than an hour before, keeping with the day before, went to the university to talk to Reed. Although Reed was out of his early class and in his office, he refused to talk. He was avoiding any contact with Seth at all. He wouldn’t return Seth’s phone calls or stop to talk when Seth tried to trap him in the corridor. He would merely keep on walking, telling Seth that he was a very busy man.

Nobody seemed to want anything to do with Seth, especially Violet. His second attempt at reconciliation had ended even worse than the first, finishing with a few vulgar words in the background and the click of being hung up on again. Another uneventful day had passed, the secrets of the black powder leaving Seth still mystified. The night, however, did not follow suit, much to Seth’s dismay.

Seth woke with a start, drool dripping down the left side of his face and soaking into his pillow. His heart skipped a bit as he realized what he pulled him from his slumber. Once again, someone was whispering outside his window. The man from two nights ago was standing in almost the exact same spot wearing the exact same clothes. His face was no more visible than before and his clothes, black as night made him almost invisible in the darkness. It had not been the rapid whispering of the man that had woke Seth. The sound of breaking glass had jolted him from his peace and into terror. The man had hit the lightbulb above the door with a rock, extinguishing any hope of identifying him. The moonlight provided just enough glow for the man’s silhouette to be seen. The whispers were excited, brimming with anticipation.

"The witness is on his way? Ooh, goody." The man emitted a cold, high-pitched squeal of delight, sending shivers down Seth’s spine.

The man began to chant wildy, dancing in a circle, "Just wait for the signal. Just wait for the signal." He abruptly stopped dancing. "Yes, but it doesn’t matter, now! He can’t escape."
Hearing this, Seth hopped to his feet and, trying to make as little noise as possible, rushed to his closet. He opened it slowly, failing to avoid the creaking sound, and pulled out his old baseball bat. He squeezed it tightly, fearing it might slip from his sweaty hands. He wanted to reach the man outside before the signal was given. Where this sudden surge of bravery had come from, Seth did not know, but he did know that with his adrenaline pumping as fast as it was, he would be able to handle the creep outside. He bustled over to the top of the steps and made his way down them, his knees nearly knocking together in fear.

The steps seemed to end at the same time as Seth’s bravery. He reached out for the door handle, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to actually open the door. His hands were quivering so violently, that he had to take a moment to squeeze them together in an effort to hold them still. He stretched his hand out for the doorknob once again, but saw that it was already turning. He took a step back and put the bat over his shoulder ready to swing. The door opened very slowly at first, releasing a blast of cold air into the entryway. Without warning, the door was thrust open.

The man in the black trench coat was standing in front of Seth, his eyebrows raised.

His face was ghastly looking. He had a large scar extending from his left ear down to his lips. His head was strewn randomly with wisps of brown, thinning hair. It was obvious that his image was not of any importance to him. He didn’t look that old, yet his skin was dry and wrinkled like that of a much older man. His appearance, unnerving as it was, would not have impacted Seth in the same way had it not been for the eyes. The man’s eyes had no color at all. It looked as though his pupils had swollen to five times their size, leaving the white of his eyes just visible in the corner. His build was average, similar to that of Seth. He man grinned widely, showing yellowed, chipped teeth contrasting against the rough stubble covering his chin and upper lip. His voice sounded much more daunting from close-up.

"I just thought I’d pop in for some tea."

The man let out a hoarse snigger and leaned in close to Seth. His breath smelled of rotten flesh, making Seth recoil back for a moment.

"Are you gonna swing that bat or just hold it and stare at me?"

Seth steadied himself and with a grunt of effort, he swung at the man’s face. For a second, Seth thought that he was going to succeed in crushing the man’s skull, but at the last possible moment, the man’s hand whipped up and caught the bat effortlessly. He ripped it from Seth’s clutching hands, sending splinters deep into Seth’s palms, and snapped it in half as though it was a twig. Seth could feel his jaw drop and begin to tremble.

The man placed his hands against Seth’s chest, and giving a small push, he sent Seth flying up the first set up stairs. He hit the sixth step up and bounced, the force whipping his head into the drywall, leaving a large indent. He dropped to the ground and crumpled on the first landing. He managed to retain his consciousness, but wished that he hadn’t as the man climbed the steps and grabbed Seth by the scruff of his neck, lifting him like a mother cat lifts it’s kittens. But he wasn’t gentle at all. He tossed him out onto the sidewalk sending him rolling across the pavement, ripping his elbows and knees to shreds. Blood dripped from a cut on his chin, staining his undershirt a sickly red.

The man stomped over to Seth and lifted him up to eye level by the hair on his head.
He growled sadistically, "Are we having fun yet?"

Seth began to swing his arms and legs wildly trying to either wriggle out of the man’s grasp or to connect a blow. His right arm made a solid connection with the man’s nose. Blood began to stream out and Seth could see that the now broken nose was protruding at an unnatural angle. The blood, too, looked unnatural. It wasn’t the normal bright red like Seth’s was. It was a much darker shade, more like crimson. It flowed strangely slow, almost like molasses. The man barked out a laugh.

"You’re a feisty one, aren’t you. Down, boy."

Apparently Seth’s mind was in denial about the situation because even in the midst of being attacked, it occurred to him that he been called feisty just days before. As the man dragged him through back streets and alleys, his mind tried to focus on random, meaningless information. He thought back to what he had said to Violet just one day ago and to how hungry he felt. His back was being tormented by the pavement as he slithered across it, dragged by his hair, but still his mind would not come out of defensive mode. He began to swim in and out of consciousness. The stars passing by above seemed to circling his head like in the cartoons. Flashing lights, a cold puddle, and then suddenly, he stopped moving.

He looked around, but still it took him a while to actually realize that he had moved from the front of his condo to a deserted street a few blocks away. The man was walking away from him, the street lights and moon casting multiple shadows on what Seth had experienced as an unforgiving ground. A few drops of spring rain began to fall. They helped to wash the taste of blood away from Seth’s mouth. The man walked out into the middle of the street and stood silent. Seth longed to get up, but as much as he willed himself, the pain was just too great. His face felt swollen and bruised. When he tried to yell, all he could manage was a short mumbled gasp.

Suddenly, the man standing in the middle of the street, let out a deep howl of anguish. He dropped to his knees and lifted his head, staring up at the twinkling stars above. Seth, his face pressed against the cold pavement, watched, transfixed with horror. A thin layer of fog formed around the man’s knees as he lowered his head and shut his eyes. Several tension filled seconds passed. The man didn’t appear to be in pain. Without warning, his head snapped up, his black eyes staring straight at Seth. The man opened his mouth to yell, but no noise came out.

His eyes appeared to expanding out of their sockets. The huge black pupils looked to be oozing out of his eyes. A gas was forming at his eyes and floating skyward like steam from a kettle. It was a deep black smoke, like that which comes from burning evergreen boughs. It rose a few feet above his head, and then stopped, hovering eerily, a frozen cloud against the backdrop of the night sky. The same smoke began to pour out of nostrils and mouth, rising to form with the cloud, which got so big that it began to engulf the man’s head. Then like a tornado, it began to swirl around the man’s body.

He cried out, uttering, "No! Don’t leave me." He sounded like he was weeping. "I thought I was ready, but I’m not!"

The smoke had looped around the man’s body numerous times leaving very little visible. His frightened eyes could be seen between two of the swirls. The pupils had returned to normal size, but the man was not blinking. His eyes were blank, almost dead-like. Seth could see streaks of black powder mixed with tears running down from the man’s eyes and mouth. A silence settled over the street. It seemed as though time had stopped. Seth’s head was low enough to the street that he could see that the man’s knees had lifted off of the pavement a few inches. He was suspended in mid-air, neither him or the cloud of smoke moving.

Suddenly, the smoke flew at Seth. The man’s body collapsed in a heap. The smoke slithered along the ground, and upon reaching Seth, rose up and pounced. There was no struggle. Like a black blanket of silk, the smoke curled around him engulfing him in a hazy confusion. It struck instantly and entered Seth’s body. He could feel it flow into his body through his mouth and his nose. It felt like every cut had reopened and his mouth and nose were bleeding profusely. He tried to breath, but found himself unable to.

Gasping for life, he rolled onto his back and felt more of the smoke swoop down on him and invade his system. He tried to force a breath out in an attempt to push it away from his face, but it gently rose to his eyes, impossible to evade. It seemed to stop at his eyes, hesitating for a moment, before plunging through his sockets. He expected all to be black, but instead a murky grey filled his vision, obscuring anything that was left to see. The entering smoke felt like a warm liquid excreting from his eyes. He longed to blink, yet he could not. Losing all sense of awareness, Seth felt his world begin to rotate. He felt as though he was floating, lifted by the weightless smoke now inside him. The last entrails of vapor surged into his body and he was lifted off of his back and onto his knees. His arms began to rise from his sides as though they were filled with helium.

Through the grey color clouding his vision, Seth could make out a black shadowy shape rushing him. It grew larger and larger as it neared him, it’s form becoming more apparent. The blurriness prevented Seth from making out any details and when he moved to try and see what it was, he realized that the black powder that he could feel coursing through his veins, had tightened all his muscles, paralyzing him with his eyes still locked on the advancing figure. Seth could see that the figure was for sure human. It looked to be skinny and hunched over, possibly holding a cane.

The figure bent down on one knee, setting the thing in his hand down. He put his hands on Seth’s cheeks, yet Seth could barely feel it. He was aware that the man was touching him, but it felt distant, like someone was touching him in a dream. He tried to force out a cry for help, but his lips did not even move. Behind the man with the cane, Seth could see a fuzzy shape stand up and begin to stumble towards them. The man in the trench coat was still yelling through sobs, as he walked drunkenly towards Seth.

"Come back! I am nothing without you. Come back!"

The feeling was beginning to come back to Seth. He could feel the warm hands pressed against his cheeks. The figure with the cane said something, but Seth could not hear it over his attacker’s screams. The man with the cane positioned his face in front of Seth’s so that everything was blocked out except for him. Seth vision was starting to clear up and he found colors slowly fading back into the picture. A pair of sparkling blue eyes beneath the brim of a golfer’s hat formed from the black blur in front of him. He recognized them as a man’s. The lips took a few moments to come into focus, but before that Seth could hear the man’s soothing voice speaking calmly.

"My name is Henry Cartezoni. I’m here to help. You’ve been infected. Keep looking at my eyes." Henry pointed at his eyes. "Don’t look away. I want you to concentrate on me. Listen to my voice. Your head is probably telling you a million things. Don’t listen to your head anymore, listen to my voice."

Henry kept on talking, but Seth had just realized that he had regained control of his eyes. He heard what Henry had said, but he looked away to his left, curious about the man who had attacked him. Henry was still talking.

"Look at me. Don’t do anything. You going to want to run or talk or fight, but don’t! This is very important. Do not do anything. That smoke that’s in you is going to try to invade your mind. Are you listening?"

But Seth was not listening. His attacker had fallen down and was having a tantrum like a five year old in the supermarket. His legs and arms were flailing around madly as he rolled, screaming for the smoke to come back to him. He kept crying out that he needed it. He was like an immature junkie, who instead of risking everything to get the next fix, just dropped to the floor and whined until he got what he wanted. Henry shuffled over and filled Seth’s view again. He was desperate to get Seth’s attention, yet for some reason Seth did not care at all.

Seth felt a tingling in his arms as they collapsed to his sides. He thought he had control, yet when he tried to lift them they would not move where he wanted them to go. It was like they had their own agenda. They moved very slightly at his hips at first, as though they were anxious to do something, but they didn’t know what. His fingers began to drum lightly on his pants, testing themselves out, cracking their knuckles. Suddenly, they flew at Henry’s face and propelled him to the side without Seth wanting them to.

Henry hit the pavement hard, and lay still, groaning. His arm was caught awkwardly under the weight of his body. His cane flew from his hand and clattered along the ground, settling on the curb. Seth longed to go over and help him, but his body would not move. His eyes were the only thing that was under his control. Then, Seth heard a voice that sounded strangely familiar. It had come from his lips and had sounded something like his voice, but with a deeper vibration to it. It was raspy and cruel sounding, a voice that, even in it’s quiet volume, commanded attention - commanded power.

"Deacon..." The man looked up at Seth, his eyes wide with surprise. "Deacon, do it."

The man pulled himself along the ground, closer to Seth.

"Is it you, my liege?" he said excitedly. His voice had lost its confidence and no longer instilled any fear in Seth.

Seth nodded with no conscious decision to do so. Deacon got to his feet, hungry to do whatever task Seth’s voice had set out for him. He leapt towards Seth landing on top of him taking advantage of his vulnerability. Henry was still on the ground, clutching his arm, unable to help. Deacon pinned Seth down and began to punch him in the face. Seth was helpless as his face became a bloody mess. His arms lay lifeless at his sides, flopping like a rag-doll with each landed blow. He had not noticed at first, but the fog was gathering once again. He could hear a prolonged scream of agony ringing in his ear. It came from within his head, but it was no thought of his.

The cloud rose ominously large covering the pair entirely, making them invisible to Henry who was laying just a few feet away. The man continued to hit Seth, but he was starting to tire. The hits were no longer as hard or as fast, but it would not have mattered. Seth could not feel the pain of the punches anyway, as they had been replaced by a searing burning all over his body. He thought that he was on fire and finding his voice he wailed in torment. Seth didn’t writhe or move at all. All he did was yell for mercy. He longed for death one instant and the next the pain was gone and all sensation to his body had returned.

He could hear Deacon laughing at him, saying, "Painful, is it?"

The smoke had left Seth and with full movement restored, he rolled out of the cloud until he could see, heaved Henry over his shoulder (not worrying about causing him any pain), and sprinted, his body thriving on the rush of fear and pain. He ran until his legs literally collapsed beneath him, leaving him sprawled in an alleyway next to Henry, panting for breath, shaking with terror, and contemplating the world that he thought that he knew.

Chapter 2: Black Powder

No answers came and although Seth was unable to forget about the incident, he pushed it to the back of his mind, determined to do better in his studies. Being just a first year student, the professors were being hard on Seth. He hadn’t yet proven himself to any of them, so none of them were cutting him any slack. Seth told himself that he would make his schooling his first priority, but whenever he had any time to himself, he found his mind wandering to the warning he had been given. Again and again, he reminded himself that it was just a joke and that he had nothing to worry about, but he couldn’t wipe Randal’s look of urgent sincerity from his mind.

A week past with no incident and no strange black powder, and Seth began to allow his troubled mind to release it’s tension. He was feeling rather at ease when poker night rolled around. He was glad that he could concentrate on taking his friends’ money rather than on Randal’s foreboding voice.

Seth’s cousin, Tyrone Manning was the first to show up. Considering his name, a person would think that Tyrone was a large, black man able to break watermelons with his head, but he was in fact, a skinny white kid, barely out of high school, barely able to break a pencil. He epitomized the idea of arms as skinny as toothpicks. He waltzed into the living room and with a quick greeting plopped his plaid dressed self onto the sofa, to wait for others to arrive.
Bill Addison and Cosmo came together. Bill was an accountant and was pretty much as typical as possible. He had a wife and two kids, a boy and a girl. He lived in a quiet suburb with low crime levels and a playground across the street. He lived what could be called a mundane existence, so when he came to poker night, all his suppressed excitement rushed to the surface and he became as he liked to call it, "The Wild One".

Cosmo followed Bill to the poker table and sat down at it, continuing a conversation they had started on the way over. Cosmo’s real name was Shaw Sinclair. He was nicknamed Cosmo because of his occupation as an astronomer. He always had outer space on his mind, so whenever the opportunity arose, he would throw in some useless fact about the galaxy.

"Actually, Bill, we aren’t actually sitting still. Everything is in constant motion. We don’t even know the meaning of being totally still."

There was one more player coming, but seen as how Tanner was traditionally late, the four of them started the game without him. All thoughts of danger were thrown from Seth’s mind as he called a bet of ten. His pile of chips grew as steadily as his friends’ frustration. He had always been able to tell when they were bluffing or not. For some reason, he had an uncanny ability to read what people were thinking just by looking at them. It was almost surprising that they came back every week, despite their losses. Seth figured it was a testament to their true friendship. Tanner had still not shown up and Seth was beginning to let his concern overshadow his game play.

"He usually at least calls," Seth said after folding. "Do you think something happened?"

"I doubt it," Tyrone said confidently, "Don’t you remember how he accused you of cheating last week? He’s probably still peeved about it."

"Yeah, but I wasn’t..."

Before Seth could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. They could hear footsteps, as a person slowly trudged up the wooden stairs.

"Finally! It took you long enough," Cosmo said, exasperated.

"Yeah, we’re almost finished," Bill added, his face beaming, as he had just won the last hand.

They all looked at the stairs with eager anticipation of the final member of their mismatched gang of pals.

Tanner stumbled up the last few steps and into view. He was dragging his feet along the dark hardwood floor, and he looked exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept in a week. He hair was a mess and he had large bags beneath his eyes. His slightly overweight body looked ready to drop to the floor, and although he wobbled slightly, he managed to stay on his feet.

"Whoa, Tan, what is wrong with you? You look absolutely beat," Seth said, stating the obvious, with a bit of a smirk on his face.

Suddenly the smirk vanished, as Seth noticed that which he had been dreading all week. Tanner’s fingers looked like they had been dipped in black chalk. Seth’s chest tightened with fear as Tanner took a step forward. Randal had said to be wary of friends. Tanner gave a slight shudder, sending a small amount of powder flying off of his black t-shirt. The residue blended with the material, making it impossible for Seth to determine how much of it there was. Seth stood up out of his chair, staring at Tanner.

Bill looked his familiar friend up and down, and then with a smile asked, "What are you covered in, man? Is that dirt? That doesn’t look like dirt."

Bill’s perplexed questioning was echoed around the room. Everyone waited, expectantly for an answer, but Tanner would say nothing. Cosmo got up and grabbed Tanner by the shoulders, staring him straight in the eyes.

"Did something happen to you? Are you hurt? Talk to us. We’re your friends."

Everyone was beginning to see that there was nothing funny about the situation. Tanner’s eyes were unable to focus on anything, but the floor, and his friends worried that he might pass out at any moment. Finally, Tanner mumbled something.

"I forget...I think I fell asleep at the wheel. I can’t remember. It was all black."

Seth instantly realized the danger he was in. He no longer had any doubt about what Randal had said.

With no explanation, he rushed over to Tanner, and said softly, "Tan, you’ve got to go."

Bill and Tyrone protested immediately. Cosmo said nothing. Apparently, he had no scientific explanation for Tanner’s behavior. Seth noticed that Cosmo was pale, as though the blood had fled from his face. He was staring blankly, his eyes fixed upon Tanner. Cosmo noticed Seth watching him and for a brief moment their eyes met, before Cosmo blinked rapidly and looked at the ground. Seth scrunched his forehead in bewilderment. The astronomer had looked more afraid than Seth had ever seen him. Even more than the time than he had come home to discover his telescope missing (Tyrone had moved it out to the backyard without asking).

"Can’t you see something’s wrong with the man." Bill had switched out of wild mode, back into responsible mode. "We’ve got to get him to the hospital. I think he’s sick."

Tanner did look even more sick than when he had entered the house. His face was a ghostly white and his hands were trembling.

"I’ve never felt this before. I feel like I’m going to throw up, yet I can’t," Tanner said in a whisper.

Bill put a finger to his lips, letting Tanner know that he didn’t need to talk. Seth could think of nothing, but getting Tanner out of the house. He just knew that he couldn’t be anywhere near that black powder.

"Fine, you take him to the hospital," Seth pleaded.

His friends looked at each other, unsure of what to do, not understanding Seth’s strange reaction.

"Just go!" Seth shouted, panic flooding his system.

"Fine, we’ll go. We’re taking him to the hospital." Bill said with a disapproving tone.

Tyrone walked towards the stairs, following the other two out.

He glared at Seth as he passed, scolding, "A true friend would come with us. And you say you wanna be a doctor, you wanna help people." He scoffed as he began to go down the steps. "If you change your mind, you know where we’ll be."

Seth could already feel the guilt. He may have put his friends’ lives at risk. He almost yelled at them to come back, but once again his own life felt more important to him than his friend’s safety.

"You don’t understand!" Seth yelled, attempting to relieve his guilty conscience. He told himself that he would call and make sure that Tanner was going to be alright.

"Randal told me to watch out for my friends and my enemies. I did the right thing. I’m the one in danger, not my friends," Seth spoke out loud to himself trying to clear his head. He glanced out the window and saw his three friends, helping Tanner get into Bill’s car. Bill jumped in the driver’s seat and sped off towards the hospital. Questions bounced around Seth’s mind, but just as before, answers were hard to come by.

"What if the powder was just dirt? Am I getting paranoid? Of course, I’m getting paranoid, but is it justified?"

Seth grabbed his hair in frustration and collapsed onto the plush, chestnut-colored sofa. Violet was working a late shift at the deli, so he had plenty of time to mull things over in his mind. He wondered if there was anyway to contact Randal, but in his mind he knew that the mysterious dwarf would be no more willing to divulge any secrets than he was at their first meeting. A dark thought danced across Seth’s mind. Randal didn’t necessarily have to be willing to talk. Seth was obviously a lot bigger and stronger than him. This thought became eclipsed by the realization that Randal could turn invisible.

Seth was beginning to see a side of him that had not emerged since he was young. His worry-free nature was being overtaken by paranoia and selfishness. He could see that he was putting himself before anyone else and that scared him. But what scared him even more was what happened next.

Something caught Seth’s eye as he leaned back further on the couch. A small piece of paper was lying on the floor near where Tanner had been standing. Seth got up and moved towards it, eyeing it as he did so. He noticed that the floor surrounding the note had a little bit of black powder smothered across it, yet the note was powder-free. This note had fallen onto the floor just as Tanner left.

As Seth bent down to pick up the note, a list of possibilities formed in his head.

"Is it a cry for help? Is there something Tanner could not say in front of the other three that he needed to tell me?"

Seth held the note close to his eyes and read slowly making sure he understood it clearly.
It read, "Next time, your friends won’t be there to save you."

Seth’s heart jumped in fear. The note clearly wasn’t from Tanner, but then who was it from? Seth was more bemused than ever. All the things that had happened in the past week were a jumble inside his head. Nothing made sense. First the man in the truck, then Randal, and now a good friend had added to the mystery. The strangest thing of all was the fact that Randal’s warning was coming true. Most people would have dismissed the little man for crazy, but lucky for Seth, he took the man seriously. If only there was some way to get some clarity.

A thought occurred to Seth. Tanner had looked as though he was sick. What if he had just gotten some contagious disease that Randal knew about? If there was one person who Seth knew would be able to identify a disease, it was Professor Phillip Reed. Not wanting to talk to Professor Reed over the phone, Seth grabbed his coat off of its hanger, slipped on his runners, and stepped outside into the cool night air. He tried his car, but the trusty old Civic decided to be stubborn. The engine refused to turn over. Seth slammed his hands on the steering wheel and yelled violently at the machine.

"It wasn’t my fault that stupid truck was there. C’mon!"

The car did not want to cooperate, so Seth committed himself to the five block walk to the university. It was a calm spring night. The wind whistled gently across the road, holding some garbage in it’s grasp. It felt good to be outside in the soothing air. Seth began to calm down and even wondered if he should just wait until the morning to talk to Reed, but he had already made it two blocks, so he trudged on, along the dark, paved street, dimly lit by the lamps above.

The university came into view at the end of the street and Seth quickened his pace to reach the doors. The pillars surrounding the main entrance towered above, casting eerie, immense shadows on the ground. The moon, although not full, illuminated the sidewalk as Seth trotted up it, and pulled on the glass doors. They banged loudly as he jerked on them, but they did not open. The school was locked as Seth had worried it would be. He hoped to see a janitor or someone working late inside. He knew one of those people staying late would be Professor Reed. He always worked past traditional hours on Sundays preparing for the first lessons of the week. The adrenaline of the previous events had just started to wear off and fear was trickling back into Seth’s mind. He realized that he probably shouldn’t have left the house, seen as how he was apparently in danger. Seth glanced around nervously, surveying the area, making sure that no one was watching him, before he knocked heavily on the doors and waiting for a few seconds before shouting at the top of his lungs.

"HELLO?"

To his surprise, someone came to the door. It wasn’t the janitor, as had been Seth’s first thought, but the university librarian. She had a pointed chin, deep sunken eyes, and wispy grey hair strewn across her face covering her eyes. She spoke with a raspy, yet kind voice.

"Yes, deary?"

"I’m really sorry and I know this is out of line, but I need to talk to Professor Reed right away!" Seth said very rapidly. He spoke out of courtesy, as there was no way that this shriveled up old lady was going to keep him out.

"Oh, dear. I’m not sure, but he might have gone home. The only reason I’m here is to reorganize the books after the little incident we had yesterday. You know, you could just call the professor," said the librarian.

Seth wondered about the incident that she mentioned, but dismissing it from his mind, he took a step closer to the open door and said in the most polite voice he could conjure, "Do you think I could just go check up at his office?"

The librarian hesitated, but then with a warm smile said, "Why not? But I’ll have to go with you, my dear."

The two headed up the stairs to the left. Seth tried to walk quickly, but the librarian kept asking him to slow down.

"I’m not as feisty as you young ones," she said as they finally reached Professor Reed’s door.

Seth knocked on the door, trying to peak through the small window into the office.

Apparently, Reed had not gone home because a hoarse voice answered the knock by saying, "Is that you Harriet? I’ll be out in a second, so you can clean."

The librarian called back in a pleasant voice, "No, Phillip, it’s Pauline. There’s a young man hear to see you.

Seth could hear Professor Reed get out of his chair and walk towards the door. The door opened and Reed came into view. He didn’t look much different from when he was giving lectures, except for the dark circles beneath his eyes and the sweats that had replaced his normal dress pants. He was wearing an evergreen sweater vest topped off with a classy dress coat. It looked as though he had closed his eyes and pulled his outfit from the closet without seeing if things matched. Reed didn’t seem to notice that he looked ridiculous. He smiled at and thanked Pauline, before ushering Seth inside, a silly grin plastered on his face.

"Ah, Mr. Manning! I love seeing students with such dedication. You need help with some of the assignment? You want some after hour tutoring? I am here for you. I must say I am a bit surprised to see you making this much of an effort just for some help. But as medicine is the most important profession in our world today, I am ecstatic that you are finally taking it as seriously as you should be."

Seth was about to respond by telling his professor the real reason he had come, but he caught himself and instead came to the conclusion that it would be beneficial to get on Reed’s good side. Since Reed was just about to leave, Seth decided to give him a reason to stay.

"Uh, yeah. I was doing the report on proper sterilization that you assigned and I wanted to throw in a little something about some of the rarer infections that can occur if you don’t clean up properly."

Seth knew that his story was full of holes, yet Reed, eager to help, rushed to his desk to get his textbook.

"I know some of the really rare ones are in chapter four. Let’s see...we’ve got protozoa and toxoplasmosis. No, that’s not it. There’s some better ones in here." Reed flipped through the pages, glancing at each one and stating what it was about. "Uh, Pseudomonas. That’s a bit closer. You could try that."

Reed continued through the book, and with each turn of a page, Seth’s impatience multiplied. He had expected a quick explanation, so he could get on with asking about the black powder.

Finally Seth abandoned the lie and blurted, "Sir, I’m not here for help."

Reed looked up from the book, baffled that Seth would dare lie to him.

"So what are you doing? Sneaking around the school, stealing things? Are you a thief?" Reed slammed the book shut and continued, "Yeah. Pauline caught you didn’t she and you made up some excuse about needing help from me. I see what’s going on."

"No, sir," Seth tried to explain, "I do need your help. It’s just not with homework."

"Oh, so you’ve got your paper done?" Reed asked, already knowing the answer..

"Well, no, but..."

Reed interrupted him.

"Well then maybe we ought to get that done. Sit at this desk, Mr. Manning."

Seth moved over to the desk and sat down, reluctantly.

"Sir, I really need to..."

"I don’t really want to listen to you right now. You are going to work and I don’t.."

"But, sir."

"...care what you have to say."

Seth could feel the anger and frustration churning around inside his chest, speeding up the pounding of his heart. Professor Reed continued to talk in his disciplinary tone and Seth tried to contain himself. Tanner’s face, so dazed and pale, formed in his mind’s eye and he instantly remembered the urgency of the situation. He yelled without restraint.

"PROFESSOR REED! This is important!"

Reed immediately shut his mouth and looked down his nose at Seth. Before his yelling could be reflected, Seth spoke, quiet and distinct.

"This is important. Before you start yelling...or strangling, listen to me."

Reed sat down at his desk, his eyes still burning into Seth’s soul. His forehead was turning red in anger, making his receding hairline stand out more than ever. He placed his hands, which seemed to be shaking, on the desk in front of him and although he was still outraged at having a raised voice directed at him, he managed to pull himself together. He spoke in a such a voice as to let Seth know that if this wasn’t important he was going to be killed.

"Go on."

Seth explained what had happened after the poker game. He didn’t tell Reed about Randal because he didn’t want to come off as crazy. After hearing the symptoms that Tanner had exhibited, Reed gave a little chuckle and leaned back in his chair.

"Seth, even you should be able to tell me what your friend, Tanner, has."

Seth had the feeling that he was missing the obvious. He squinted his eyes in thought.

"Think, Seth. Pale face, shaky hands, stuttering voice. Not to mention the fact that he had just had a very traumatic experience by falling asleep at the wheel."

Seth, still unsure, questioned, "What? Post-traumatic stress?"

"I’m not sure I would go that far. I would label this as standard shock," Professor Reed said. "He went through something that frightened him and the experience sent him into mild shock. I’m sure that’s what the nurses at the hospital will say."

"Yeah, but what about the black powder?" Seth said fiercely, determined to get a better answer than that.

"He obviously fell in something. People in shock often become woozy and will fall down. You know all of this, Seth." Professor Reed could tell that Seth was unsatisfied with this answer. "What are you fishing for? You can’t honestly think that your friend has some disease that makes him exude black powder."

Seth noticed something odd in the way his professor said "black powder". He wasn’t sure, but it seemed to him that Reed was hiding something.

"No, I don’t think that he’s exuding it, but I think whoever made him act the way he did, dropped this powder onto him. Either that or it’s the black powder that is causing the symptoms. I thought you’d be able to shed some light, but obviously not."

Seth stood up from his desk, maintaining eye contact with Reed. He was sure that Reed knew more than he was telling. Taking a step towards the desk at the front, Seth spoke in a whisper to emphasize his seriousness.

"Professor, if you know anything...Please."

Professor Reed appeared to think for a second. He looked distant, his eyes shifting all over the room, refusing to meet with Seth’s. Finally, he looked up at Seth and said apologetically, "Sorry, Seth. I’ve got nothing more for you. Your friend was in shock. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’ve got work to do."

Seth didn’t want to leave. He wanted to press his professor for answers, but realizing that trying to uproot Reed’s stubbornness could in fact unleash his wrath, Seth turned and walked out the door, his head turned over his shoulder, hoping to hear his teacher call him back. No such call came, but just as Seth pulled the door shut, he could hear Reed open the drawer in his desk. Seth stopped in his tracks and spying out of his peripherals, he watched Reed reach inside the drawer and begin to lift something. He pulled a small vial from out of his desk and observed it closely, rolling it between his fingers. It was full of something darkly colored, either brown or black. Seth moved his face closer to the window and stared intently, no longer trying to hide his interest.

Suddenly, Reed caught sight of Seth, peaking through the window, and abruptly shoved the vial back in it’s drawer. He gave Seth a false smile and shooed him away with a flick of his wrist. Seth returned the false nicety, but as he was doing so, he slowly turned the doorknob to the office, desperate to confront Reed about the vial. Finding the door had automatically locked upon his exit, he submitted to Reed’s request and turned to leave the building. He walked down the hallway slowly, periodically swiveling his head to look behind him. Contemplating what he had just seen, he knew he wouldn’t be able to retire or confirm his suspicions, until he could talk to Reed again.

He wasn’t sure, but he had a hunch about what secret Reed’s vial contained.

Chapter 1: A Little Warning

"Sickness knows no boundaries. It doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care. It can’t be reasoned with. It can’t be calmed with simple words. You can’t just walk away from the fight as you were told to do when you were young. We are at war with sickness. We are at war with disease. And ladies and gentlemen, you are the soldiers."

The speech was meant to spur enthusiasm, but to Seth Manning it was just a bunch of words. He settled deeper into his hard plastic chair, feeling his eyes droop. Rearranging his jeans and pulling his black hood up over his dark messy hair, he shifted awkwardly, attempting to find a comfortable position. He tried to stare down the sloping rows of dull brown chairs in front of him and concentrate on the dull things being said, but his mind would not allow it. The professor’s eager voice became a sluggish drone as Seth let his thoughts drift to the night before. As his eyes came to a close, the burgundy walls of the lecture hall vanished, overwhelmed by the messy surroundings he called his home. The soft murmur of the student’s chatter became inaudible as it was replaced with Violet’s condescending tone.

"You’ve said that a thousand times."

Her exaggerations used to make him smile, but now he could barely stand them. It was always, "I bought like a million pairs of shoes yesterday!" or "The guy at the drive through took like a million hours to get me my salad!" At first, he had adored her little quirks. He loved the way every morning she would leave a note on the fridge. He thought it cute, the way she would never leave a penny on the ground, claiming she didn’t want to miss out on good luck. At times, it had seemed like she was trying too hard to make herself appealing to Seth, but now she almost took him for granted, like he was lucky to have her, but not the other way around. He loved everything about her at first, but now, after ten months, his affection was drying up. Finally last night, they had sat down and talked. They had their first serious conversation about their relationship. A conversation that could easily have been compared to a spider entangling it’s prey savoring the moment in which it would feast.

"You don’t appreciate me," she had said staring at him with accusing eyes.

As though that argument hadn’t been used many times by equally as angry woman. Seth could barely even remember what he had said in retort, but before he could think about it, his mind snapped back to the present, interrupted by a sudden change of tone in the professor’s voice.

"Mr. Manning! You may not think I care about how you do in this class, but I’ll be damned before I let you become a doctor without knowing everything there is to know. We are talking about people’s lives here."

Professor Reed emphasized each word with such loving passion that Seth thought he might begin to cry. As if a person ever could learn everything there is to know.

"Sleeping through my lectures is not permitted. You can’t sleep through a patient analysis. You can’t sleep through surgery. What would make you think you can sleep through my lecture."

Seth gave a quick nod and Professor Reed looked back down at his notes and continued his lesson, unfazed and with the same avidity as before. Seth’s nod turned to chuckle and a contemptuous shake of his of head.

Class ended with a homework assignment, and Seth and the rest of the students began to flow out of the hall, grumbling under their breath. Seth almost didn’t want to go home, knowing that when he got back, there would be another argument. He had opened the flood gates with the first confrontation and now Violet refused to keep her mouth shut. He knew that there might be no saving the relationship and with that on his mind, he hopped in his car and headed for his house on Trochu Lane. The day was hot, so Seth rolled down the window, cranked on the radio, and tried to enjoy his few moments of undisturbed peace.

His standard transmission ‘86 Honda Civic seemed to be having a good day. It wasn’t threatening to stall in the middle of an intersection as it had just two days before. He would have liked to have found something a little bit nicer to drive, but seen as how med school wasn’t cheap, he was forced to sacrifice cruising in comfort for education and eventually a high paying job. That’s not to say that Seth was trying to become a doctor for the money. Who wouldn’t want to make a doctor’s salary, but as artificial as it sounds, Seth really wanted to help people. He had a genuine desire to provide for those who needed it. The problem was he wasn’t sure he had the guts. He was, simply put, a nice guy. Little did he know, that his kindness was about to be tested.

Seth’s peace was interrupted by a sharp horn blast. It was unintentional, as Seth’s body had slammed into the steering wheel after his car collided with the large truck in front of it. Seth, surprised at first, slowly came to his senses and realized what had just happened. He let out a deep sigh and hung his head onto the dashboard. A throbbing pain had developed on the left side of his forehead and he wasn’t sure whether he was bleeding or not. He slowly lifted his head, fearing a concussion, to look at the vehicle in front of him. It was a massive beast of a machine, looming overhead, blotting out both the sun and Seth’s momentary tranquility. Knowing and fearing the kind of person that would drive a vehicle like that, Seth tentatively opened up his door, prepared to hear a lot of yelling.

Not only was the man in the other truck yelling, he came out with a pipe wrench gripped firmly in his meaty hands. His physique matched that of his truck. He was tall, towering over Seth, and had arms that looked as though they could tear his Civic apart piece by piece. Looking at the man’s face, Seth tried to stutter out an explanation to no avail. The man’s raging eyes and biker moustache were unwilling to listen.

"Who are you?" the man asked, glowering down at Seth.

"What do you mean?" Seth asked, flinching as he did so. "Shouldn’t we just exchange insurance information?"

"You’re not listening to me, boy! I want to know who you are, so I can destroy your life. Tell me your name, boy!"

Seth debated about running, but realizing that he needed his car and his life, he opted for a less deadly route.

"I’ll tell you what. I’ll pay for everything."

Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, Seth knew they were a mistake. He didn’t even have the money to fix his own car, let alone the other guy’s.

"I...I mean I’ll...I’ll...You know what? Give me your insurance information right now!"

Once again Seth regretted the words that had just left his mouth. He had acted on instinct and now he feared that his defiance might cause him some pain. The burly man stared at him, his fingers rubbing against the pipe wrench. Seth was slightly comforted by the fact that the man’s eyes seemed to have lost some of their rage. He was even more comforted when the man gave a little smirk, took a few steps backwards, turned, and got back into his Chevy without saying a word. Seth, a bit confused at first, looked around to see if the police were nearby. He could barely believe that it had been him who made the man run away. A huge sigh erupted from Seth, followed by feeling of pride bubbling up inside him. He had stood up to a man who could crush him with one finger, and he had gotten away with it.

The monstrous truck rumbled away, and Seth could see that the damage on it was far lass severe than the one Seth’s car had experienced. The front bumper of the Civic was completely crushed in and the hood had contorted so that it curved up instead of down. The adrenaline in Seth’s body had calmed down and all the pain from the crash was coming back. His head began to pulse with pain, and for the first time he noticed that his ribs were now tender from smashing into the steering wheel. Climbing back into his beater of a vehicle, he turned the key without any expectations. Amazingly enough, the trusty old car roared to life and Seth took off for home, careful to keep his eyes on the road and two hands on the wheel.

After such a rough day, Seth’s less than well kept condo looked inviting despite Violet’s eyes peering out the window, as he sat in the driveway. He lived in the upstairs section of a two story building. The down stairs was unoccupied, but Seth’s cousin, Tyrone was expected to be moving into it in a few months time. Seth exhaled with a deep sigh and began to push open his door, when he felt a tap on his right shoulder. At first he ignored it, believing that he had just brushed up against the seat. The taps came a second time, more violent and distinct. Seth turned his head slowly and looked between the headrest and the seat of his car. A small man (some might even call him a midget) with a small moustache and a goatee, was sitting in the backseat with a look of urgency planted firmly on his face. Seth gave a girlish shriek of terror and leapt back almost ramming his backside into the horn.

"I don’t mean to alarm," the little man said with an English accent, before Seth could put his surprise into words. "My name is Randal. I have to tell you something very important."
Evidently, Seth’s surprise was etched all over his face because the little man suddenly said, "I understand your confusion, but before you do anything you must listen."

Seth had no intention of listening to this little man that reminded him of a leprechaun. Randal was dressed in a blue wool sweater with a strange golden symbol stitched onto the front and khaki shorts. Had he been wearing green, Seth might have asked him where his pot of gold was, but as his confusion still overshadowed any other emotion, he said nothing. Randal hopped to his feet and leaned in close to Seth, his single earring swaying back and forth.

Seth leaned back abruptly and suddenly realizing that Randal was probably a homeless beggar, he stammered, "Uh...I don’t have any money or anything." Randal rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Do you think you could just leave my car now. I don’t want any trouble."

Seth was sure that he could pick Randal up and toss him out the window, but he actually felt sorry for him. He already felt guilty for refusing him money, and he knew that tossing him out would haunt him later on. It was true that he didn’t have any money to gave Randal, but that didn’t help to appease the anxious feeling in his stomach.

"No, you idiot. I’m not a bum. Just listen to me. You don’t have to believe what I say, but just listen."

Another thought occurred to Seth. Although his size didn’t make him look dangerous, Seth didn’t want to underestimate this small, desperate man. Deciding to cooperate, he leaned in and told the man to go ahead.

"I’m here to warn you," Randal said in a panic.

"Warn me about what," Seth said, once again, entirely confused.

A banging on the window interrupted their conversation. Violet was standing outside, waiting impatiently for Seth to either get out or roll down the window. Seth chose to roll down the window. Expecting Violet to be shocked, Seth spoke before she could.

"He’s here to tell me something. Then he’ll go."

Violet was shocked and as equally confused as Seth, but for a different reason.

"What are you talking about?"

"I thought you might be wondering why there is a four foot man sitting in my back seat." Randal sent a scowl Seth’s direction at this mention of his height.

Violet, however, scrunched her forehead in frustration and scolded, "I don’t have time for your stupid games. If you’re trying to get out of explaining what happened to the car, that’s not going to happen."

Seth had forgotten entirely about the damage to the car and at the time he really didn’t care. His mind was preoccupied by the fact that she wasn’t concerned with the backseat intruder. It seemed that confusion was a common theme felt by everyone except for Randal. He had sat back down and was waiting impatiently for Seth to turn his attention back to his warning.
"The car...right," Seth stalled, trying to find the right words to make him look like the victim. "Yeah...Well, there was an accident. Listen, I’ll explain everything, but can you please explain to me whether you know why this guy is in my car."

Violet suddenly burst out, frustrated but what she thought was a silly game that Seth was playing.

While Violet was raving, Randal finally chimed in saying, "She can’t see me."

Seth began to contest the possibilities of what Randal had just said, but before he could get out a word Randal raised his voice above Violet’s high pitched whine and said, very firmly, "Be watchful as you yourself are being watched. I wish I could tell you by who, but you wouldn’t believe me if I did. I just had to give you some form of a warning."

Randal got a very serious look on his face, as he once again leaned closer to Seth.
"Mind your friends. Mind your enemies. Mind those you don’t even know. I know this sounds ludicrous, but when it strikes, I hope you’ll heed my warnings."

Seth was actually intrigued. Being very good at reading people, Seth could immediately sense the sincerity in Randal’s voice and he was beginning to believe what he was saying, trying for just a moment to ignore the little voice in the back of his head telling him, "The midgets crazy."
"How will I know when it strikes. What is it? I need to know more."

"There’s no time," Randal spoke in a softer, deeper voice than before. "I shouldn’t have even come here. Someone will be coming for you. The single most important thing I can tell you to do is run. When it comes for you run."

"- you think the world revolves around you..." Violent continued ranting. Seth continued ignoring her without even meaning to.

"Why are you being so vague?" Seth questioned, bewildered by what he was being told. "Tell me what or who I need to look out for."

"It will likely be a man. It doesn’t like to use women as the carriers."

"Carriers of what?"

Ignoring Seth’s questions, Randal gave one final piece of advice.

"Watch for the residue. The black powder."

Randal suddenly snapped his head downward and looked at the floor.

"It’s searching. It might suspect me. I have to go. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but if I say too much, it could hear me. I am still unsure of it’s connection to me. I know none of this is making sense, but just remember what I told you."

With that, Randal opened the door and literally vanished from Seth’s vision. Seth stared blankly at the place where Randal had just been. His mind was telling him that what he had just seen was impossible, but he had seen it just the same. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his left cheek. Violet had slapped him hard. He turned towards her, trying to remain calm. When he saw her face, he realized that he’d better shut up and agree. He could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. He was surprised that her eyes had remained their icy blue and not changed to a fiery red. She screamed as loud as she could even though she was inches from Seth’s face and Seth realized that she had been talking to him the whole time that Randal was speaking.

"Listen to the words that are coming out of my mouth. Who are you talking to?"

Seth turned his head and winced at the noise coming from Violet. For a moment there was an eerie silence, before Seth got up and mumbled distractedly, "Never mind."

With nothing more to say, he walked directly up the steps, through the front door, and plopped himself down in front of the computer, determined to get some answers.