I’m safe here. They definitely wouldn’t think to look for me here. I can’t tell you where “here” is, they might get to you. Thereby, get to me. But you’re a part of me. You know where “here” is. You’re in my head. If you delve deep enough and focus intently, you can see where I am. But there’s no need for such though. I’m safe, and so are you. They’re dangerous, and our safety is my top concern. I can’t let them get us. I’ve seen what they’re capable of, and it’s not fun.

The blood streamed down the side walk. The bullet’s exit wound, looked like a small creature had crawled out of his head. It was a gaping hole with bits of brain and hair hanging by the threads. Instant lights out. His brown hair, matted to what was left of his skull by the scarlet mess.

His scrawny arms lay motionless at his side, covered in dirt. Blood seeping into his t-shirt. A stain like that definitely won’t come out. A small crowd had gathered and looked on, in a mixture of awe and disgust. It was such a grotesque horror committed on such a beautiful day. Rather warm for autumn, but nonetheless, still a great day.

Except for the man with his brain painting the sidewalk. It wasn’t a great day for him. The crowd spoke in low murmurs. No one able to make sense of the atrocious act committed in the city center.

Cars continued to drive by. Each stopping briefly to try and catch a glimpse of the drama unfolding on the side walk. The buildings enclosing the street on both sides seemed to blend into the background. There was no one to focus on but him. He must have known too much about them. This is what happens when you know too much. This is why I need to protect us.

He was probably a father, computer technician or something equally boring. Now look at him. The ambulance’s sirens caused everyone to divert their attention. Strange, no police had shown up. I’m sure someone had called it in.

A fire in the building I lived in was another danger alert. The fire killed one of the guys I knew who stayed on the third floor. He was a pretty cool guy. We’d played a few games of basketball together at the community center.

He too, must have known too much about them. Incredible the lengths they’d go to get rid of him. Starting a fire in an apartment building where hundreds of people live. Strangely enough, he was the only death in the fire.

The fire department issued a statement that a lit cigarette was the cause of the fire. I was among the crowd outside the building being tendered to by the paramedics, when they wheeled his charred corpse out the smoking remnants of our communal home.

His once white skin was now a reddish pink. The rest of him was crispy black. Blood seeped out through the cracks. His hardened skin, gave colour to the white sheet that did a poor job of concealing the abomination he had become. I may not be a smart man, but I know better than to believe the story the fire department gave.

It wasn’t a cigarette. It was them. The crispy man had known too much. And they dealt with him. The embers of the fire glowed dimly in the darkness of the night. It was almost beautiful. The flashing lights of the fire truck, the shouts and cries of the now homeless fading into the background. They had struck again.

My third and final encounter with their destructive power was by far the worst. It was the boot up my ass that I needed, to get us to safety. It was all the confirmation I needed to know. They posed a real threat to us. I didn’t know the guy, but whoever he was, he didn’t deserve to die the way he did.

I was taking a walk through the park to clear my mind when I stumbled and nearly tripped. I looked down, annoyed, to see what had caused my stumble. There, in my path, was the abdomen of a man. His abdomen was dressed impeccably well, so it was fair to assume his grand night had come to an abrupt end.

I was at a loss of words. I didn’t know what to do. My first thought was to locate the rest of his body. Leaving the abdomen donned in a tuxedo jacket, I walked slowly down the path, scanning left and right for the rest of him.

Boy did I find them. He had been completely ripped apart. Strewn on both sides of the path were his hands, the rest of his arms, his feet (in what looked like expensive dress shoes), and the legs. The head, however, was nowhere to be found.

Unperturbed, I continued my search. The path led me to the gate of the park where my search proved fruitful. Mounted on the spiked above the gate, was the strangers head.

They had no respect for the dead. How could they violate a man like this? All because he knew too much. Leaving the head on the gate, I left in a hurry. No point summoning the police. They would not get involved with these people.

Now, do you see why I must do all I can to ensure our safety? These people know no bounds. They have no regard for the law, or human life. All this death because of the knowledge people have acquired. Knowledge is power, but in this case, it is also grounds for death. Unfortunately for us, I am knowledgeable. As I’m sure you can guess, we’re next on the hit list.

I won’t tell you exactly what it is I know, so if they get to me first, they might spare you for your ignorance. You must be wondering, why I fear for you? Because as I said, you’re a part of me. You know what I know. But upon my death, the bond might break – therefore, you won’t know it anymore – thus being spared. That, however, is worst case scenario. I would rather just keep us both alive.

Do you hear that? The buzzing? I think they’ve found me. We’ve been comprised. Sorry old pal but this is the end of the road. The door is opening now. Oh God. How are they getting in? The door has no handles, so how? Oh God


The door opened, and the nurses walked into the padded room. He sat on the floor, rocking back and forth, shouting, straight jacket sitting tightly around him.  Every time he was scheduled to get his medicine he did this. Screaming and shouting about “Them” and “Knowledge”.

Once sedated, the nurses put the Clozapine in his mouth and gave him enough water to wash it down. They then checked to make sure he swallowed the medication.

Anthony had been admitted into the Psychiatric Ward of St. Bernard’s Hospital 3 years ago. He was found wandering the streets, covered in blood. The police launched an extensive manhunt, following the death of three unrelated individuals; all found to be carried out by Anthony. He was sent to trial and proven mentally unstable, earning him a lifetime stay in the padded room.

The mind is a terrible thing to waste.

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