Old School Phandom Big Bang

Dan and Phil sat huddled together on Phil’s couch watching a cheesy horror movie, one of the ones the crimes committed over the past few months had been based on, in fact. 

Phil wasn’t sure he’d fully put the crimes behind him. It was nearing Christmas, meaning less than two months had passed, but he wondered if there was a sort of therapy in revisiting it the way it was intended.

“This movie sucks,” Dan rolled his eyes, pulling Phil closer to him.

“So do you,” Phil smiled, gazing up at Dan adoringly.

“Sssh,” Dan placed a gentle finger on Phil’s lips.

Just then the phone rang.

“You still have a landline?” Dan asked in amusement as Phil wriggled his way out from underneath him.

“Yeah, didn’t you know that?” Phil returned.

“No, your house is so cluttered I guess I missed it. Seriously, it’s worse than an ‘I Spy’ book in here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, maybe we can start cleaning some of it out,” Phil called from the kitchen.

Phil picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello Philip. Tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Um, I’m not really sure I have one,” Phil replied, confused.

“Really? Well do you know about the one where a bunch of counselors are killed in the woods?”

“Yes,” Phil answered, unsure.

“How about the one where a man with knives for fingers kills kids in their sleep?”

“Yes,” Phil replied, slightly more on edge.

“And how about the one where a man tries to kill his sister while she babysits on Halloween night?”

“Yes.”

“And how about the one where the killer always calls right before he strikes?”

Phil reeled around towards the door.

“Who is this?” he asked. By now, Dan was looking at him with concern.

“Don’t you know not to ask those questions?”

“What do you want?”

“To see what your insides look like.”

“I’m hanging up,” Phil stated, and did just that.

“Who was that?” Dan asked.

“I don’t know,” Phil stated, glancing at a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Suddenly there was an arm around his throat and the blade of a knife pressed to it.

Phil reached out for Dan but it was too late.

The knife pulled across his throat and he felt the warmth of blood spilling over his chest as he spilled to the floor, gurgling.

Phil was crouched in the bushes that lined the property between a familiar house and an unfamiliar house. His eyes were set on the front entrance of the house he’d walked into this very night in his dream. Somewhere in the bushes that separated this house’s yard from the one behind it was Dan, and across the yard from Phil was Jake, also hiding in the bushes, though it was too far and dark and Jake was too well-concealed for Phil to see him. That was the point, after all.

Phil could hear the sound of kids laughing as they ran from house to house collecting candy. Phil felt a pang of nostalgia for the days when him and Martyn would go trick-or-treating together. Martyn never seemed to resent taking Phil along, and it was something Phil was grateful for still to this day. Among the frivolity of families and children were members of law enforcement, dressed up in costumes and waiting on stand-by.

Phil tilted his head, stretching his neck, and reached a finger as best as he could underneath the heavy bulletproof vest he was wearing to scratch an itch, but unfortunately it was just out of his reach. An itch in the ear of his earpiece started, and he shook his head reflexively like a horse shaking flies out. 

The air was a good temperature for trick-or-treating, he thought to himself. Not too cold that you needed layers of clothing to cover your costume and not too hot you were forgoing pieces to carry them around in your bag or under your arm. Phil wondered what he would dress up as on a night like this at his age, but nothing came to mind. 

Phil watched as the door of the house opened and the kid who lived there looked around. Phil remembered this moment from his dream. Someone had rang the doorbell, but the child- Spencer- had said no one was there. Well, he was right. If there had been anyone there they would have saw them. How had the doorbell rang on its own then, he wondered. Maybe it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but still he wondered.

The front door closed and the child disappeared from view.

Phil heard a group of teens approaching, their voices loud and jovial. As they passed, Phil recognized Cornelia, Adrian, and Sophie. With them was a girl with bleach-blond hair he didn’t recognize. He figured this must have been Olive.

When they reached the door, reported on, of course, by the voices in his ear, the door opened and Spencer let them into the house.

“Alright people, it’s go-time” a voice in his ear said. 

Phil said nothing. He only watched.

The way he was crouched was starting to put a strain on his legs, and Phil had no choice but to kneel for a bit if he wanted to be back up on the balls of his feet in time to run as fast as he could towards the house. Phil hadn’t been granted a gun, which was fine with him, and he was on strict orders to help secure the scene by keeping the kids safe, and not running directly after the suspect. 

Phil lifted a finger to his mouth and grabbed at a piece of skin flaking around his nail and mindlessly pulled it off with his teeth, then spitting it out. It wasn’t a habit he mindlessly indulged in often, but tensions were running high, and he had to keep everything tampered down inside him. And besides that, he was almost bored, waiting with baited breath for a moment to arrive. He couldn’t see details inside the house; he was too far away, but he could see shadows, outlines, if you will, silhouettes moving across the windows.

Phil was just coming back up on his feet when he heard Dan’s voice in his ear saying the garage light had turned on.

“We haven’t seen anyone enter the scene,” Jake said.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to go in there NOW,” Phil insisted.

“Negative, we can’t enter the scene if there’s no sign of movement,” Jake relayed.

“We need to go in now,” Phil repeated, desperately.

“SUSPECT SPOTTED” Came a loud voice in Phil’s ear. It was Dan.

“MOVE!”

Phil shuffled out of the bushes and ran to the front door as fast as he could. Jake was snaking his way across the yard to where Dan had been located, towards the garage.

Phil swung open the front door and startled the kids.

“FBI!” Phil yelled, his voice shaky and unsteady with adrenaline and the unsuredness of his own authority. “Everyone drop what you’re doing and follow me out of the house, NOW!”

Terrified, the kids dropped the knives they’d been using to carve pumpkins with. Sam and Olive shuffled the child out of the house, and they all followed Phil down the street.

“What’s going on?” Sophie demanded.

“I can’t tell you right now, because we’re running,” Phil huffed, almost out of breath. “When we’re safe I’ll let you know.” The pack jogged towards the street and across it, cutting through a pre-planned route in between Sam’s house and his next-door neighbors towards a pair of police cars waiting on the street behind.

Phil, with the help of local officers, shuffled the pack of kids into the car.

“What about Adrian?” Cornelia cried.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be with you guys shortly,” Phil assured. “I’ll meet you at the station,” Phil added, and closed the door in her face.

“You’ll get them there safely? Phil asked the officer whose car he was standing to the side of.

“Will do,” the officer agreed. “You’ll see them there shortly.”

Phil nodded and the officer turned to get into the driver’s seat of his car. 

They didn’t bother to put the sirens on as they pulled out into the street, but since it was dark and the streets were crowded with trick-or-treaters, they put the lights on. Phil watched until they turned out of sight, the lights no longer dancing across bodies, houses, and trees.

Phil turned back in the direction of the house where it had all gone down and started running.

They were safe, he told himself. We finally saved them.

*-*-*-*-*

Dan was crouched in the bushes that lined a familiar house and an unfamiliar house. He was staring at the back of the house he’d watched Phil nearly die outside of, a view he hadn’t seen until now, but there was no mistaking it: this was the same house from their dreams. 

Dan was listening patiently as the team chatted away, relaying information. He split his attention between what he was hearing in his ear and what he was seeing, which, so far, was a whole lot of nothing.

Dan heard them mention how the kid had opened the door as if someone had rang the doorbell, but there was no one there. Not even a few minutes later he heard confirmation that the friends had arrive and were all inside. 

“Alright people, it’s go-time” said a voice in his ear. 

Dan adjusted his crouch into a more ready position and waited. 

Time seemed to pass cripplingly slow. He could feel the tension in his legs as he crouched in a ready position. 

Dan had almost turned away for a second as something drew his attention when he saw the garage lights go on.

“Garage lights are on,” he said.

“We haven’t seen anyone enter the scene,” Jake said.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to go in there NOW,” Phil insisted.

Dan knew Phil was right. This guy didn’t play games, and they had no idea when Adrain had been killed in the dream. They had only found his body after realizing he’d been missing for a few minutes.

Dan exited the bushes and made his way across the back lawn towards the garage, drawing his gun.

The door to the garage was unlocked, and he pulled it open with his left hand as his right hand held his firearm in front of him, safety off and finger pressed against the side of the trigger.

Inside his eyes were immediately drawn to Adrian on the floor with a man standing over him. Dan recognized him immediately.

“SUSPECT SPOTTED” Dan yelled, pointing the gun at the suspect.

The man stared him down, though Dan couldn’t see his eyes. He had a knife in his hand, but with Dan’s gun pointed at him, he didn’t make a move.

Dan stood with the suspect staring back at him and Adrian frozen in fear on the floor like that for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the door to the house opened and Jake appeared.

“Adrian, come with me,” Jake said, but the masked man was standing between them.

“Actually, go past Dan there, and wait behind him. I’ll come around the side of the house and meet you at the door Dan came in, okay?”

Adrian did as he was told and Jake disappeared. Meanwhile, Dan still stood with his gun trained on the masked man.

“Drop the weapon,” he said, now that he was sure Adrain was behind him and not in the vicinity of where the suspect would drop the knife. The man did as he was told.

“Now on your knees with your hands on your head. Slowly.”

The suspect once again followed Dan’s orders.

Jake came around to the back door. He moved in front of Dan to cuff the man before leading Adrian out to the front yard, where a pair of local cops collected him. From there, Jake returned and started leading the suspect out of the garage, still with Dan’s gun trained on him.

It was only when they exited the garage and made their way into the open yard that Dan dropped the gun, putting the safety back on. He didn’t put it away, though. He kept it in his hand down by his side as he walked. Just in case.

There was a police cruiser parked outside the house on the street at this point, lights twirling in the night.

Jake loaded him into the back of the cruiser and watched as it pulled away. In the fading lights of the cop car Dan watched as Phil approached him.

“We did it,” Phil smiled, and Dan embraced him, a thick embrace on account of both of their bullet proof vests.

Dan holstered his gun and pulled Phil in by the back of his head, kissing him hard on the lips. He pulled away and smiled.

“Yeah, we sure did.”

*-*-*-*-*

Dan and Jake sat in the interrogation room while Phil looked on through the two-way glass.

Spencer Charnas, frontman of American rock band Ice Nine Kills sat in front of them, handcuffed to the table, wearing the blue overalls and heavy work boots of his costume. The mask lay on the table to his left and their right, out of reach for him. On the forehead the letters “IX” were printed formally in sharpie.

“Why were you at the house tonight?” Jake asked.

Spencer just smiled back at him cooly and didn’t say anything. His eyes were dark, and his black hair was slightly rumpled from sweating under the mask. His hands were folded politely on the table. Phil tried his best to ignore how attractive he was- besides, he had just gotten a kiss from the boy he’d been dreaming about for months now.

Despite everything, he let a little smile slip as his cheeks warmed up. He could still feel Dan’s lips lingering on his. He savored the buzz he felt there as he watched the interrogation.

“What does the IX on the mask mean?” Jake asked, changing topics.

Spencer sat unnaturally still, still smiling at Jake.

“Do you get off on killing children?” Dan interjected, drawing Spencer’s attention to himself, but still he smirked and said nothing.

So, is this all you have on me? Phil heard a voice in his head.

He took a step back in shock. When he returned to the two-way mirror, Spencer’s eyes were boring into his, even though Phil was sure he couldn’t see him.

We found you holding a knife above a boy on the ground. You don’t think that will be enough to convict you? Phil asked genuinely.

I guess we’ll see, won’t we, Spencer replied. He turned his attention back to Dan and Jake as they got up from the table and exited the interrogation room.

“We’ll let him stew a bit before we try again,” Jake said when he rounded the corner with Dan.

Phil looked to Dan. “I want to go home,” he stated plainly.

“Okay,” Dan agreed immediately.

*-*-*-*-*

Dan and Phil bid their goodbyes to Molly, Sarah, and of course Jake.

Their things were packed and they were heading to the airport to get a commercial flight to wherever they could to get to JFK. Both Dan and Phil agreed it was alright if they didn’t get there right away. Anywhere was better than being back in that interrogation room.

They arrived back to Phil’s apartment where Dan helped Phil unpack. He was fully healed by now, but there was a nasty scar on his side. It was a grisly reminder that their relationship didn’t come without costs.

Dan stood on Phil’s doorstep while Phil stood inside.

“I’ll be back down to visit soon,” Dan promised, overnight bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I know you will,” Phil smiled, trying to push the thoughts of the case out of his mind and enjoy the moment with Dan.

“Well, I’ll see you soon,” Dan waved, and turned to head to his car.

Dan woke up with a gasp and rolled over.

Jake was stood over Phil, who was bleeding profusely, holding down his side.

“Dan, call 911 NOW!” Jake demanded.

Dan sat up and looked around for his phone, finally spotting it on Phil’s dresser. He launched himself off the bed and flung himself towards the dresser, scooping up his phone, pressing the button and hitting the word “Emergency” in the bottom right hand corner. He typed in 911 and hit the called button.

“911, do you need fire, police, or medical?”

“Medical,” Dan responded as quickly as he could. 

“What’s your emergency?” The dispatcher asked.

“My partner’s been stabbed,” Dan replied breathily.

“Stabbed by who?”

“I don’t know, I think he knows.”

“Alright is he awake?”

“No, my friend is putting pressure on the wound.”

“Alright, and where are you?”

“At his house,” Dan informed the dispatcher, giving them the address.

“Alright help is on the way. Did you see anyone stab your partner?”

“No,” Dan answered honestly.

“Alright just hang in there,” the dispatcher urged.

Dan continued to answer questions to the dispatcher while Jake continued to put pressure on Phil’s side. His breathing was shallow, his chest hardly rising and falling as Dan watched from the dresser. Finally they started to hear sirens in the distance. When there was a loud knock at the door and the sound of it bursting open, Dan informed the dispatcher and they ended the call.

The EMTs rushed up the stairs and ordered Jake and Dan out of the way. Jake quickly abandoned Phil’s side and backed up against the far wall while EMTs swarmed around Phil. They checked Phil’s vitals and confirmed he was still alive while loading him onto a stretcher.

The EMTs raced him down the steps and Dan and Jake followed closely behind, jumping in the back of the ambulance like they’d seen on TV.

The EMTs ordered them to sit on the side seats to give them room to work, and Dan and Jake complied, staring at each other from opposite sides of the ambulance through the flurry of EMTs.

They reached the hospital in around twenty minutes, where they pulled up to the ER doors. The EMTs unloaded Phil and carried him away while the driver led Jake and Dan towards the waiting area.

Dan and Jake took a seat, Jake’s hands still covered in blood.

A nurse came and visited them, directing Jake to a sink where he could wash the blood off his hands and then telling Jake to check in at the front desk. He did as he was told, coming back to sit next to Dan.

“I want a smoke,” was the first thing Dan said when Jake came to sit back down.

“No,” Jake instructed. “You don’t wanna leave to go get a pack, and I’m not leaving you.”

“Fine,” Dan agreed, staring off. “But I want a smoke,” he reiterated.

“That’s understandable,” Jake agreed. They sat in silence for a moment.

“What happened?” Jake finally asked.

“He got him,” Dan answered, still staring off.

“He gets him every time,” Jake argued. “Why did Phil get hurt this time?”

“I guess because we went into this more aware. And I think he figured out who the killer was.”

“Phil knew the killer’s identity?” Jake asked in surprise.

“I think so, but he didn’t get a chance to tell me,” Dan mentioned, shaking his head. “Phil stabbed him, and he threw the knife away and kept walking like it was a toothpick,” he added as an aside.

Jake sighed. “Well, in the real world, he bleeds,” he argued.

“We don’t know that,” Dan disagreed. 

“Everyone bleeds,” Jake doubled down. “Even Phil.”

“All his powers and it couldn’t save him,” Dan muttered, almost to himself.

“He didn’t have his powers in there,” Jake argued, even though he had no idea if that was true or not.

Dan didn’t reply.

Dan continued to stare while they waited, not pulling his phone out once for a distraction. Every so often he’d get up and pace back and forth around the waiting room, drawing glances from others waiting to hear about their loved ones’ conditions. Sometimes Dan would help himself to another cup of the coffee provided by the hospital staff and bug Jake for a few dollars for a candy bar from the vending machine, but true to his word Dan didn’t go anywhere, not to pick up a packet of smokes and not to pick up a bottle from the package store.

After about two hours of watching nurses come and go through the waiting room a nurse headed in their direction. Jake looked up first, placing a hand on Dan’s knee to get his attention. Dan glanced up as well and watched the nurse approach.

“Mr. Lester is in a stable condition right now. He’s not awake yet, but we’re hopeful he’ll wake up soon. If you want to follow me, I’ll direct you to the room he’s in.”

Jake and Dan stood up and followed the nurse down a series of hallways with patient rooms lining both sides. There was a low murmur of voices every so often as they passed by rooms with the doors cracked open as nurses or loved ones visited patients who were in critical care, talking to them in a low, gentle voice. In one room they passed by the sound of sobs was muffled behind a closed door. Dan made eye contact with Jake before turning his gaze back down to the linoleum tiled floor.

Finally they reached room 217. The nurse knocked and opened the door.

“What’s the point of knocking if he’s not awake?” Dan quipped drily, and Jake gave him a small nudge with his elbow. 

The shades were open but the main overhead lights of the room were off, meaning that the only light came from a headlight above the hospital bed and the machines that were hooked up to Phil. He had a pretty standard set up, with an IV drip in one hand, a ventilator going down his throat, and the bed propped up at a slight angle.

“Visiting hours are over, but we let visitors stay for a little while for patients that come in during the night. We do ask that you limit your time here and come back tomorrow morning, though,” the nurse explained. “Is there anything you guys need?” he asked.

Jake and Dan exchanged looks and when neither spoke up Jake turned to the nurse and declined his offer, thanking him. The nurse dismissed himself and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Dan looked down at Phil and brushed some of the hair that had fallen over his eyes off to the side.

“I never should have put off that conversation,” Dan lamented, staring down at Phil and taking a seat in the chair by the bed.

“He’s fine, he’s going to make it,” Jake comforted, moving to stand behind Dan and place a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, we have a lot going on.”

“I know we do,” Dan agreed. “I guess I just thought… I mean, this is Phil. This is Phil, who saved my life by deflecting a bullet with his mind,” Dan’s eyes lit up as he talked waving his hands in the air as he accentuated. “You know, he has these powers. These powers that saved my life. So I guess I just thought…”

“He wasn’t going anywhere?” Jake offered.

“Yeah, I guess I just thought we could face anything together. Like nothing could touch us. Like we were unstoppable. When we were getting along.”

Jake nodded, out of sight from Dan.

“You know we just. We just drifted apart. But he was always still there to come back to. I was just tired of home. Tired of that place. Of being cooped up. Of feeling small. Phil, though, he never makes anyone feel small. It was thanks to him I got this job, that I was able to break out and leave that all behind. I didn’t mean to leave him behind too. It just… happened. And I know it hurt, especially after he lost Martyn… he lost Martyn after they hadn’t spoken in years. Phil only got to say goodbye because he can see ghosts. Otherwise Martyn would have been dead for years and Phil would never have know. Can you imagine? Loving someone so much and then one day they’re just gone? You look back and ask yourself what happened. Where did it all fall apart. I guess I just always assumed he would be there. The closest thing to home I’ve felt in a long time.”

Dan reached down and gently lifted Phil’s hand and placed it into his own.

“I never really thought of him like that, you know? There was no spark, there was no… nothing like that. But he was home. He was domestic bliss. But then again… maybe I did, and I just didn’t see it. I’m so used to the relationships in my life being hot and heavy. Coming in swinging and leaving bruised. Maybe I just didn’t understand the way it felt when I saw him waiting for me in a restaurant, or coming through the door waiting for him. Maybe I didn’t understand that kind of love can be feeling like someone’s house is more of a home than yours ever was. Maybe there’s a love in just being able to relax around someone. Just be yourself, instead of trying to outdo yourself over and over again. A passive kind of love that creeps in, not the kind that strikes you like lightning. Not love at first sight, but the kind of love you don’t realize is there until you’re at risk of loosing it. A passive love that feels like a home. A domestic bliss. That kind of love… I guess it endures, instead of burning out so quickly, huh? And I guess I never realized what that was because I’ve never had something like that before.”

Jake squeezed Dan’s shoulder.

“You have time,” he promised. “We’re one step closer to solving this case. You have time, Dan. Phil isn’t going anywhere and neither are you. You can both take this as slowly as you want, or need.”

Jake watched as Dan nodded, watched as tears fell from a place he couldn’t see and as they landed on Phil’s hospital bed sheets, blooming as they landed, one by one.

“Come on,” Jake offered. “Why don’t we go home?”

*-*-*-*-*

Jake called an Uber back to Phil’s apartment. Jake slept on the couch while Dan slept in Phil’s bed. The sheets smelled like Phil always did, and Dan bunched them up in his fist and pulled them up to just under his chin, breathing in their familiarity. 

When Dan woke up the sun was almost overhead. He slept deeper than he had in any motel room or even in his room in Quantico. It was the first time in ages he’d woken up after 9am, even after only a few hours of sleep. The smell of bacon frying wafted up the stairs, and for a moment Dan thought that Phil was cooking him breakfast, until he remembered Phil was in the hospital, and Jake had slept on the couch.

Dan got up and pulled his shirt on before heading out the bedroom door and down the stairs.

When he reached the bottom landing Jake turned with a frying pan in his hand.

“I was hoping this’d wake you up gently,” he smiled warmly, but tiredly, holding up the frying pan.

“I’m sorry, I overslept,” Dan apologized but Jake waved his concerns away with the spatula. “Don’t worry. I would have woken you if the hospital called, but they haven’t yet. I figured we’d eat some brunch and then head over to the hospital. Maybe we can talk more about the case there.”

“Maybe it’ll be so enthralling Phil will just have to wake up,” Dan added, almost desperately, grabbing a piece of toast from the toaster as it popped up and then shaking his hand when it burned his fingertips.

Jake clacked a pair of bamboo tongs at him and picked up the rest of the slices and placed them on their plates.

They moved to sit at Phil’s table, the one that doubled as where he held his seances. 

Dan ate quickly, both from how hungry he was and from wanting to get to the hospital to see Phil as quickly as possible. 

Jake watched him as he scarfed down the breakfast he’d made him.

When they were finished, Jake took their plates and silverware and washed them in Phil’s sink before placing them in the dishwasher.

They left the house and took Dan’s car back to the hospital.

They sat in the chairs by Phil’s bedside, Dan holding Phil’s hand as they talked to each other and to Phil. Dan tried his hardest to think at Phil, sending thoughts towards him asking him to wake up. 

This continued for another two days.

By the third day Dan and Jake had started to make themselves home at Phil’s apartment. Both had showered, and they’d gone out and bought groceries together. 

Jake had plenty of work to catch up on, which he did on his laptop in the hospital room. Dan sat in the chair by Phil’s bed and listened to podcasts. There were times he thought about putting one of the earbuds in Phil’s ear, but he worried that it might confuse Phil on the dream they’d had. He wasn’t quite sure how comas worked, but he’d heard stories of patients recollecting things they’d heard while asleep. 

It was on that third day, though, that while Dan was sitting in that uncomfortable hospital chair once again, eyes closed, head back as comfortable as he could get it, that he felt something stir. Dan lifted his head and blinked his eyes a few times, turning to gaze down at Phil on the bed next to him. Phil’s hand was in his, as it usually was when Dan was sitting next to him. Dan felt the smallest twitch in Phil’s finger, small enough he almost wondered if he’d imagined it. He waited, not wanting to call Jake’s attention before he was certain. But yes- there it was again. A small twitch. Dan squeezed Phil’s hand as he looked up at Jake. Jake was engrossed in his work on his FBI encrypted laptop, but he seemed to feel Dan’s gaze, and looked up over the screen at him.

“He’s coming to,” Dan smiled.

Jake closed his laptop and got up, placing it where he’d just been sitting. He pressed the button on the side of Phil’s bed that paged a nurse. Dan felt a larger twitch now, and a sensation like Phil was curling his fingers. It’d been so long since Dan properly held someone’s hand that he’d mostly forgotten what it felt like, but by the same measure, he’d become accustomed to the feeling of Phil’s hand in his, from moments where they needed each other, just for a moment. Maybe this was one of those moments, or maybe it was something more.

Phil blinked his own eyes open, much like Dan had moments before. His eyes flickered around before he slowly turned his head to face Dan and Jake. He smiled at them each in turn, before gazing down and noticing Dan was holding his hand in his own. Phil smiled warmly at it, giving Dan’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, Phil,” Jake smiled, reaching over to stroke the top of his head, much like a father to his son.

Phil opened his mouth to reply but Jake made a small noise of protest, holding his hand up.

“They only just took out your breathing tube. Your body probably hasn’t had time to heal your throat yet. It’s going to feel even worse if you talk. I’m sure it’s dry enough as is.”

Phil smacked his mouth a few times and nodded.

It is, he thought to both of them.

Jake’s hand automatically flew up to the side of his head, and he dropped it slowly, realizing it was Phil speaking to them both telepathically on purpose.

“How are you feeling?” Dan asked.

Like I’ve been stabbed.

Even the flow of Phil’s thoughts were slower than when they normally came through.

“How often do you get to say that and be spot on?” Jake joked, much like a typical dad.

At that moment a nurse entered.

“He hasn’t said anything yet,” Jake informed the nurse. “I told him to save his voice.”

“Smart thinking,” The nurse nodded gratefully towards Jake, before turning her attention to Phil.

“Alright, I’m going to give you a little exam, and then we’ll look into setting you up in a different room now that you’re awake, if that’s alright?”

Phil nodded.

“I doubt you have much of a choice in the matter, anyway,” Dan jested. “It’s not like you’re in a position of authority here, and you can’t move.”

Shut up, Phil responded, glaring at Dan before returning his attention to the nurse.

The nurse took out a pen light and checked that Phil could follow it with his eyes before examining them. She asked him a few questions with a chart she had in her pocket, and he pointed to the answers, spelling out his name, the year, and more. 

The nurse left to see if another room was available for Phil. 

“We’ll talk about everything when you’re more settled,” Dan assured him. 

They waited as hospital staff transferred him as gently as they could to a gurney where they brought him to a new room followed by Jake and Dan up a few floors and down a few different halls.

The new room was much the same as the one in the ICU wing, but double the size, with another bed that was currently unoccupied.

When the nurses left, Jake and Dan moved to bring chairs around Phil’s new bed and sit with him.

“The police are going to be asking you some questions. It’s up to you how you want to answer them. At some point we should disclose we are FBI agents working on a case, but it’s going to be very difficult to explain how you got stabbed laying in your own bed while working on a case, and I doubt you’re strong enough to pull the wool over on these cops,” Jake figured.

Phil glanced around, thinking to himself.

“I believe Dan mentioned on the phone with the 911 operator that you might have known your killer’s identity, so that might also be a line of questioning that they’ll be pursuing. Not that they wouldn’t be pursuing that anyway,” Jake added tentatively. 

Phil sighed and glanced pointedly at Dan.

“I’m sorry, I was freaking out, I thought you were dying- I mean, you were dying- and in that moment I just was trying my best to give them as much information as I could so they could try to save you.”

Well, I appreciate it, Phil thanked.

I didn’t know what I would do without you, Dan added.

Phil smiled up at him warmly once again, feeling butterflies mixed in with the pain in his side.

“I can do my best to hold the cops off for as long as I can, but technically you’re a victim of the case we’re working now. To claim jurisdiction I’d have to take you off the case.”

Was I even really on the case to begin with? Phil asked.

“Well…” Jake trailed off. “Yes and no. It’s complicated.”

How complicated? Phil asked.

Jake sat back and thought for a moment.

“Well. I’ve been covering your expenses under FBI expenses. Meaning that you’re working on this case. But the last trip to New Jersey was paid by you and Dan yourselves. But technically you found a link between that case and the case from Texas. And I did already report back on that. So I would say pretty involved.”

Alright, Phil thought. Well, I still want to work this case. I think I know who the killer is. But I don’t have any way to prove it. 

“Who do you think it is?” Dan asked.

It’s hard to explain, Phil thought. Either way, we have until Halloween before the murders actually take place this time.

Dan chewed on his lip. “You think so?” He asked.

Yeah, I do. I think it would be too much of a big discrepancy to have it occur some other time. Besides, haven’t you been watching the news for it? Phil asked.

“Well, no,” Dan admitted. “I’ve been too busy just. I don’t know. Worrying about you.”

“I have,” Jake mentioned. “I haven’t known where exactly to look, but I’ve been scanning the national headlines and the local FBI chatter. I haven’t come across anything yet.”

Haddonfield. Haddonfield, Illinois.

“Haddonfield? That name sounds familiar,” Dan mentioned, cocking his head ever so slightly to the side in thought.

“That’s where I’m from,” came a quiet, hoarse voice from across the room.

Two sets of eyes turned to face Jake.

“That’s where my family lives. My daughter.”

*-*-*-*-*

I can go, Phil insisted.

“You’re not ready,” Dan argued.

Well I can’t just keep sitting here. Jake is in trouble, and besides, the longer I stay here, the more expensive it gets.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about that,” Dan muttered, shaking his head. “Besides, the police are going to want to talk to you.”

Fuck the police! We need to go, now.

“You haven’t even told us who the killer is,” Dan insisted.

Phil’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. And I won’t, either, until you agree to take me with you. Besides, as much as you don’t like to think so, I’m a grown adult with my own independent will, and I can take care of myself. I’ll just check myself out of the hospital after you leave and get on board the next flight to Chicago. 

Dan stared him down, matching his gaze. “Fine. I’m not sure where that comment about me not thinking you’re a grown adult with your own independent will came from, but alright.”

Phil pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing, and pulled the IV from his hand. The machine started beeping, and Dan was sure it was probably going to summon a nurse.

Dan watched as Phil swung his body carefully to the side of the bed and pushed himself up.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Dan restated, watching Phil struggle.

I know, Dan, Phil gazed at him with his big blue eyes that always seemed sad these days. But I need to see this through. Please. You’ve always had my back. I’m asking you, one more time. Please do this for me.

“I already said fine,” Dan mentioned, moving to the edge of the bed to help Phil up.

Where are my clothes? Phil asked. He was still wearing the hospital gown.

“They had to cut your shirt to work on your stab wound. They’re keeping your clothes, but you’ll probably have to wear that. Jake and I’s stuff is at your apartment, so we’ll need to go back anyway. And maybe you can shower,” Dan added, glancing Phil up and down with an air of fake disdain.

Making fun of the stabbing victim in a coma because of his hygiene? Nice. Phil joked back as they made their way out of the hospital room.

As Dan predicted, a nurse met them at the door.

“I’ve already tried to talk him out of it, but he’s insisting,” Dan explained before the nurse could even open his mouth.

“Mr. Lester, we really wouldn’t recommend discharging yourself this early,” the nurse started explaining.

“I know, but I want to go,” Phil explained, finally speaking in a gravely, halting voice.

There was nothing the nurse could do but help Phil towards the elevator. They rode down the elevator together to the ground floor. Phil waited with Dan at the check out desk while they discharged him and returned his belongings. 

Jake was outside the hospital entrance on the phone with his wife, trying his best not to sound frantic.

Nothing’s happened yet, Phil said. The next murders don’t happen until Halloween. No one’s been hurt yet.

“He knows that, but he still worries,” Dan explained.

He turned to the side a little to glance at the Halloween decorations that’d been stuck to the front glass walls of the hospital.

“Why do you think the killer waited until Halloween instead this time?” Dan asked.

Halloween is an important day in horror. Halloween IS the horror day. Our killer is obsessed with horror. Everyone thinks it’s all just an act, but it’s not. He’s really out here living out his sick and twisted fantasies. 

“Who’s everyone?” Dan asked.

His fans.

“This guy has fans? What, does he like post online or something?”

Or something, Phil replied vaguely.

Dan could tell he wasn’t going to get much else out of Phil, so instead he turned his attention back to Jake, who had just hung up the phone call with his wife.

“I’ll arrange for us to get a plane to Illinois,” he asserted.

“With the FBI or a commercial flight?” Dan asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Jake admitted.

“We have a lead that’s led us there, same as the other cases. The fact that’s where you’re from is just a coincidence,” Dan offered.

“Is it?” Jake asked, almost bitterly, turning to Phil.

It is, Phil agreed.

“You shouldn’t even be here,” Jake mentioned with a little more sympathy.

I have every right to be here. I brought you this case, and I’m invested in it. My knowledge and abilities offer you the best chance to protect your family, and I owe it to you to offer you that after everything you’ve done for me, Phil argued.

Jake nodded his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Well, let’s get a move on. I’ll start making phone calls in the car.”

They helped Phil into the back seat, who hissed when he moved in a way that aggravated his injury. Dan could start to see blood seeping through the hospital gown, but one look from Phil told him not to mention it.

Perhaps we could stop at a pharmacy on the way home and pick up some new bandages, was all Phil said about it.

“Of course,” Dan agreed.

When Dan finally spotted a chain pharmacy, they pulled into it, and Dan parked the car and ran in to go get bandages and other medical supplies while Phil waited in the car with Jake, who was on the phone making phone calls with the staff at Quantico.

By the time Dan had returned to the car Jake had gotten a flight sorted out for them from Connecticut to Illinois.

“Just gotta get us to the air strip,” Jake smiled, clearly stressed but trying his best to push through.

“Good,” Dan nodded encouragingly.

He turned to look at Phil in the back seat.

“Hanging in there?” he asked.

Hanging in there, Phil agreed, flashing a slow thumbs up.

They made it to Phil’s apartment where Jake and Dan once again helped Phil out of the car and into the house. 

Am I taking a shower? Phil asked.

“Yes,” Dan answered.

And how exactly am I going to do that? Phil asked.

Dan paused for a moment.

“Um.”

“Dan will help you,” Jake replied absentmindedly, working on gathering his things together for their upcoming flight.

“Um, yeah, I’ll help you,” Dan smiled nervously.

They had left Phil on the couch, so Dan moved to hoist him up and lead him to the bottom of the staircase.

“I don’t know if the stairs are a good idea,” Dan hesitated.

It’s fine, I’ve been able to heal a little bit. I’m already bleeding out. Besides, you’re going to have to change my bandages and clean my wound, and the best place to do that is in the bathtub. I think the benefits of getting a shower and changing my dressings outweighs the potential risk of getting up the stairs. They’re very narrow, though, so it’s going to take some maneuvering to get me up the stairs. Don’t worry about me, though. I can handle it. I just need help getting up the stairs.

“Alright,” Dan steeled himself. “Put your foot up there.”

Phil did as he was told.

Dan slid past Phil and up onto the first step with one foot and the second step with his other foot.

“Alright now the other foot.”

Phil held onto Dan’s arms as he placed his other foot up on the bottom step.

They continued like this up the stairs, Dan always one step ahead, letting Phil put pressure on his arms as he climbed up the stairs step by step.

It was hard to tell if Phil was bleeding again since there was already dried blood on his hospital gown.

Dan led Phil into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet.

“When’s the last time you went to the bathroom?” Dan asked, looking at Phil sitting on the toilet.

Not since before we fell asleep last- I mean, a few nights ago, Phil thought. I don’t really have to go right now, but I’m sure I will at some point. Hopefully I can heal myself enough by then to go on my own.

“Let’s hope, because I’m not holding your dick for you while you piss,” Dan snickered.

I wouldn’t think you would, Phil replied snarkily. 

Dan set up the bathtub to collect water in it’s basin so Phil could take a bath, which seemed like a better idea than a shower. While the water ran he went back downstairs and grabbed the bag of items he’d bought at the drug store and brought them upstairs to the bathroom where he sorted them out on the bathroom sink vanity.

“Alright, I got more bandages, some antibiotic ointment, and the other things that they recommended on your discharge care sheet,” Dan listed, waving the discharge packet around. He’d taken it in the store with him as a sort of grocery list. 

Sounds good, Phil replied.

“I’m making the water warm but not too warm. I don’t think hot water will feel good on your wound.”

I don’t think any water is going to feel good on my wound, Phil voiced.

“True,” Dan agreed. “But you gotta take the plunge at some point. Literally.”

I know, Phil accepted.

Dan turned the water off when it had reached a level he found acceptable and turned to Phil.

You’re going to have to undress me, Phil stated.

“I know, I just, am trying to figure out the best way to go about this,” Dan fumbled.

There should be a tie in the back, no? Just untie my gown.

“Yeah, but then I have to undress your bandages and I’m worried about your wound,” Dan argued. “I just want to be careful, is all. I don’t want to dive right in and mess up and end up hurting you even more,” he added softly.

I understand. Thank you. Let’s take it step by step. Can you untie my gown, please? Phil asked pointedly.

Dan moved around to the side of the toilet so he could reach around to Phil’s back and untie the gown. It slouched around Phil’s shoulders. Dan was able to get Phil to slip his arm out of the other side of where the wound was, and very carefully Dan moved to the other side and helped Phil slip the arm on his injured side out, sliding the gown down so the fabric pooled around Phil’s waist.

Phil’s torso was wrapped tightly with off-white bandages that were taped up. Phil directed Dan to a pair of scissors in the medicine cabinet and as gingerly as he could Dan cut the bandages on the other side of Phil’s wound. When they slipped off, all that was left was a gauze pad that was stuck to the side of Phil’s body from the coagulation of dried blood and healing ointments.

“I’m going to take the gauze off, okay?” Dan asked.

Phil gritted his teeth and nodded, leaning towards the other side both to give Dan more room to work, and so he could look down and watch as Dan peeled the gauze off.

Phil let out moans of pain as the gauze came off in a wet, sticky mess that smelled both chemically and rotted, like part of his body had started to decay. The flesh was well alive, though, and it hurt Phil both as the gauze was peeled off and as it was exposed to the fresh air. Phil clamped his eyes shut and beared the pain.

Dan looked down at it. 

The flesh around the wound was red and irritated, held together with large black thread. There was dried blood crusted around the flaps of skin where they met. 

“Are you ready to stand up?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded.

Dan place an arm under Phil’s non-injured arm, and helped him stand up off the toilet. Dan pointedly looked away out of respect as the gown fell down around Phil’s ankles. 

“Can you step out of that and walk to the tub with me?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded again and took his time shaking his feet out from underneath the gown, taking slow, deliberate steps with Dan towards the tub. When they reached the edge of the tub, Phil placed the leg on his good side in the tub while Dan moved around to hold him up by his injured side.

Phil sighed as he got one leg in the tub, trying to figure out how Dan was going to lower him into the tub. 

Dan no longer had the luxury of looking away modestly. He needed to focus on Phil’s safety. Dan held out the arm that wasn’t holding Phil up as a brace for him to use while he stepped with his injured side into the bathtub. Dan helped Phil down slowly, but when the warm water hit his side he cried out and started whimpering. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan whispered as he lowered Phil into the tub.

Phil nodded, eyes screwed shut, teeth bared.

It hurts, it hurts, Phil couldn’t stop himself from thinking. God it hurts.

Dan looked down at him with pity.

Phil sat there in the tub, legs splayed, sitting up, letting his body slowly adjust to the new level of pain he was in. Finally he opened his eyes and stopped baring his teeth, but there was still pain evident in his eyes.

“Alright, are you ready?” Dan asked. Phil nodded, breathing heavily.

Dan pulled his shirt off and Phil looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What? I don’t need my shirt getting wet,” Dan rationalized. The fact that his face was already bright red and flushed didn’t help his case any, though.

Whatever you say, Phil rolled his eyes, but even his thoughts sounded strained.

Dan cupped some water in his hand and drizzled it over Phil’s head, who closed his eyes so it wouldn’t roll into them. Dan did this a couple of times, getting Phil’s hair as wet as he could without dunking his head under.

Dan reached for a bottle of shampoo and opened the cap, squeezing a little into his left hand. He pushed the bottle down on the ledge of the bathtub, closing the top, and reached up over Phil to put it back on the small shower shelf.

Dan rubbed the shampoo in his hands and then started rubbing it into Phil’s hair, doing his best to make sure it didn’t drip down into Phil’s eyes. Whenever it threatened to, Dan ran the back of his hand across Phil’s forehead to catch it before it made it down to his eyes. Dan did this a few times while he worked the lather into Phil’s hair.

Dan rinsed his hands in the water and then used one hand to cup the water and pour it on Phil’s head and the other to shield Phil’s hairline, making sure once again that the water and suds didn’t spill down Phil’s face.

Phil let out a moan of pain and Dan stopped for a moment, worried that he was hurting Phil.

It’s not you, Phil assured him, it just hurts.

I’m sorry, Dan thought back.

Phil looked up at him with his deep blue eyes and smiled shyly.

Thank you for doing this, he thought.

Dan smiled back down at him. 

Don’t have much of a choice, do I? Dan replied.

You always have a choice, but you choose to be kind.

Dan sat on that one while he reached for the conditioner on the shelf. 

He repeated the same process, but the noises Phil made started to increase.

I wish I could just get a moment of distraction, Phil thought, squeezing his eyes shut again. It just never stops. 

Dan paused for a moment and looked down at the man he’d come to know. The beautiful boy quite literally in his arms, and he reached down under the water, grabbing Phil gently.

Phil’s face turned bright red as he breathed in sharply, but not in pain this time.

Phil closed his eyes and Dan started to move his hand back and forth, slowly speeding up. Phil continued to moan, but for the first time it started to sound good, and like he wasn’t in pain. Dan watched as Phil’s fingers curled into fists and his legs spread apart as his body did it’s best to bring itself further and further into Dan’s hand. Finally Phil was done, gasping, eyes shooting open before immediately looking away in embarrassment.

Dan swished his hand around the water and started to drain the water, getting up from where he was kneeling on the floor to wash his hands in the bathroom sink.

“We’ll have to rebandage that when you get out,” was what Dan said after, nodding his head towards Phil’s side.

Phil turned his head to watch the water drain between his feet.

Yeah, he agreed.

“Getting you out is going to be hard,” Dan mentioned. “It’s going to be slippery.”

I know, Phil agreed again. We can do it, he mentioned, finally smiling before another wave of pain made him grimace again. Even through the pain Phil had a glow about him.

When the water was fully drained Dan knelt by Phil and offered his arms and shoulders for Phil to push himself up with. Phil managed to match Dan in a kneeling position, and Dan stood up and they repeated the same motions.

Dan brought Phil to the toilet and sat him down, heading out to the hall to grab a towel from the linen closet.

He brought it and wrapped it around Phil’s shoulders, drying off his hair first and working his way down Phil’s body.

Dan left the towel around Phil’s shoulders while he went to Phil’s bedroom to pull him out a pair of pajama pants to wear after. He figured it wasn’t worth it to bother with a shirt. 

Phil was sitting on the toilet right where Dan had left him.

You don’t realize how much you miss your phone until you’re sat naked on the toilet staring off into space not being able to- ow- move because you’re injured, Phil joked when Dan returned.

“Yeah, we could probably get you to drink something too,” Dan mentioned.

Actually I have to pee now.

“Great.” Dan muttered.

*-*-*-*-*

The earliest flight Jake had been able to get was first thing the next morning, which Dan thought worked out better since it gave Phil more time to rest and heal himself or whatever. He knew Jake wanted to get going as soon as possible, but he also knew Phil wasn’t ready for such an intensive trip. He was sure that flying was not recommended right after discharging oneself from the hospital for a stab wound before medical professionals recommended it, but once again, there was no stopping Phil when he put his mind to something either. Dan figured he was probably the same way himself.

Phil was on a liquid-only diet still, so when Jake cooked dinner it was only for him and Dan.

That smells good… a voice drifted through their heads from upstairs.

“Sorry,” Jake called from the kitchen. “We might not be listening to all the doctor’s orders, but we’re listening to some!”

Dan took another bite out of his microwaved pizza.

“So, how did the shower go?” Jake asked.

Dan started coughing on his pizza.

“Why?” he demanded.

Jake held his hands up in self defense.

“Because Phil’s injured- why, what did you think I was- OH. Well, that’s nice,” was all Jake said before returning to his pizza.

Dan excused himself from Phil’s table and brought his pizza into the kitchen to finish up.

When he was done, Dan made his way upstairs. There wasn’t enough room for Dan to sleep anywhere other than in Phil’s bed with him. Dan gingerly climbed into the bed on Phil’s good side after completing his nightly ritual.

Phil was laying on his good side, meaning he was facing Dan when Dan climbed into the bed. 

Is this alright? Phil asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Dan smiled, brushing Phil’s hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear. “This is alright. Is this alright with you?” Dan asked.

I guess I don’t really have a choice, Phil called back from before.

“You always have a choice,” Dan whispered, “but you chose this.” He continued to play with Phil’s hair as he spoke.

Yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I? Phil agreed.

“We good?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded. For now. 

Phil closed his eyes while Dan continued to stroke his hair behind his ear before finally pulling his arm back and closing his own eyes.

*-*-*-*-*

It was Phil in the morning waking up Dan, for a change. Dan hadn’t realized how late he’d slept again, only this time they had a plane to catch.

“How are you?” Dan asked.

“Fine,” Phil replied.

Dan blinked. “Doesn’t your throat hurt?” he asked.

“No, I healed a lot in my sleep. It still hurts like hell but I think I can walk on my own now, for the most part,” Phil affirmed.

Dan rolled out of Phil’s bed.

“How much time do we have?” Dan asked. He’d packed his things the night before, but he wanted to be aware of how much time they had before they had to leave.

“About twenty-five minutes,” Phil answered. 

Dan nodded and shuffled into the bathroom.

When he came back Phil was sitting up on the bed.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

*-*-*-*-*

Dan felt weary, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Phil had taken some of his energy to heal himself even faster. He didn’t ask, though, because he didn’t mind. 

They were on the plane bound for Illinois by 8:45am. Dan gazed out the window as he held Phil’s hand and shared an earbud with him. The music Phil listened to was much heavier than Dan would have expected, like a more modern version of what he listened to in his car, but the way Dan figured was that Phil had been having a lot of angst battling his feelings for Dan and feeling left out by him, as well as the added pressures of whatever his abilities were, especially now that he was seeing murders in his dreams. Phil still hadn’t told them who he thought the killer was, but Dan was fine with that. He figured it was better to let Jake see his family first before focusing in on the case. Some things had to come first, he reminded himself as he broke away his gaze from the window to look at Phil. 

Jake had called his wife about coming to meet them at the air strip. Dan knew quite a bit more about Jake’s wife than Phil did, being that he’d known Jake longer.

When they saw her in her car at the airstrip, Dan recognized her immediately from the photos Jake had shown him.

She was a polite woman, with a motherly look about her. She had rich brown wavy hair and a pair of jeans on. Jake climbed into the front seat while Dan and Phil climbed in the back. Jake introduced them to his wife, Molly, and she pulled out of the airstrip to drive them to their home in Haddonfield.

“I’ve made up the guest bedroom for you two,” she smiled, glancing in the back seat for a brief moment before turning her attention back to the road. “Sarah’s a bit shy, but I’m sure she’ll warm right up to you in no time!”

Dan remembered Jake saying that Molly worked in the medical field, something they had connected on since Dan’s father was the head of oncology at the hospital he’d worked at while his mother had been a nurse there. Molly worked in the medical coding and billing department instead of seeing patients directly like Dan’s parents had. She worked from home, which is why she was able to come and pick them up when they arrived. 

Jake, of course, had asked how Sarah was as soon as he’d finished introducing them. Since it was a weekday Sarah was at school. Dan remembered Jake saying how she was due to start high school next year, only having one year of middle school, 8th grade, to go through before she went off to high school. He’d remarked to Dan about how fast she was growing up. Dan was looking forward to finally meeting her.

The house in Haddonfield was large, with two white columns supporting a second-story balcony creating a covered front porch where two white rocking chairs with red pillows sat under a large outdoor chandelier. The lawn was immaculately cut, and the bushes out front were immaculately trimmed. Dan imagined the inside was a refurbished home with shiny wood floors and an island in the kitchen with all new counter tops and cabinets and appliances, and he wasn’t far off.

Framed art from a child was placed on the walls every so often intermingled with family photos and trips to vacation destinations. In many of them was a smiling girl with hair that bordered somewhere between being blonde and brown. 

When they walked in the front door Molly immediately showed Dan and Phil to the guest room and to the bathroom next door.

They set their bags down on the floor, both of which had been packed by Dan, before returning downstairs.

Jake’s first stop had been to the fridge to grab a beer. Dan took one he was offered, but Phil declined. Jake led them out to the back patio where a table with six chairs sat. Jake took one of the two at the heads of the table, and Dan and Phil took two next to each other on the side. The chairs reclined and swiveled, and Phil found himself rocking back and forth gently as Dan and Jake sipped their beers and talked.

Finally, when the beers had been finished and brought back inside Jake returned and sat down again.

“So, let’s talk about the case,” he said.

Both Dan and Jake turned to look at Phil.

Phil sighed. “Where do I even start? You’ve heard me say a lot of crazy things, both of you, but I really think this one takes the cake,” he admitted, shaking his head in disbelief.

“We believe you if you think you know who this is,” Jake assured Phil. 

“I know, but I just don’t even know if I believe it myself,” Phil replied. “But, I guess I have to start somewhere. So ho-boy.”

Phil took a deep breath. “So there’s this band,” Phil started, pressing his hands together in a praying pose and pointing them downward slightly in a gesture, “and their thing is that they’re really into horror stuff. Really into horror movies. All their songs are about horror movies and books and stuff. I listen to them, and I actually quite enjoy them. They’re on tour right now. And actually, on the dates that the past two murders have occurred, they’ve been playing shows within an hour’s drive of the murder scenes. Not only that, but they’ll be playing here on Halloween. My first clue was when I learned I was supposed to be babysitting a boy named Spencer Charnas. That name sounded familiar, but I was so wrapped up in trying to remember why we were there in the first place that it just didn’t really click. It was only while the killer was attacking us that I realized where the name sounded familiar from: a band I had been listening to. And the band, their name is Ice Nine Kills, and their logo is a roman numeral nine. In fact, they wear a lot of costumes on stage, including the kinds of masks we’ve been seeing the killer wear. It’s all there! You can literally find pictures of them WEARING them on Google. I checked out the summaries of some of the horror movies they’ve based their most popular songs off of, and get this- one is about camp counselors at a summer camp all getting killed, one is about a man who terrorizes teens in their sleep and kills them with a knife-hand, and a third is about a killer attacking teens on Halloween, and the main character, the ‘final girl’ if you will, is a girl who had to babysit her neighbor on Halloween night. But that still leaves so many unanswered questions: one, how was he able to kill all these kids so fast? He was practically moving around at lightning speed, or teleporting. Two, why am I having dreams about it? What connects him and I besides the fact I listen to his music. And three, why was he there in the last dream?”

Jake and Dan sat on the information Phil had provided for a second before Dan posed a question.

“The murders in New Jersey took place over a few days. If they were on tour, how was he in New Jersey that long?”

Phil nodded as he spoke. “I checked into that. Turns out they were playing a festival there. The gig lasted a few days, and they played every day of the festival.”

Jake looked at Dan. “Now’s a great time to think like a profiler,” he mentioned, slipping into his teaching role. “Ask yourself, what does the killer gain from this?”

“Satisfaction of living up to an aesthetic he craves? Feeling like he’s creating a dedication of art to all these movies he’s come to love and revere enough he puts his day-to-day life’s work into creating a different kind of masterpiece dedicated to these films?” Dan suggested.

Jake nodded along with him as he spoke. “Very good suggestions.”

He turned to Phil. “Now what about you?”

Phil pursed his lips in thought before suggestion “Well, rockstars typically say that the thrill of playing shows is exhilarating. A lot of rockstars end up turning to drugs and stuff, especially back in the 80s. They called it ‘drugs, sex, and rock and roll’ for a reason. Maybe the high was wearing off from playing all these shows, and he needed a new thrill. He needed to take it to the next level. Performing songs about how a character in a movie you’re playing has killed people is one thing, but when you’re performing songs about how a character in a movie you’re playing has killed people, and you also killed people, while playing that character? I mean, that really ups the thrill of playing shows like that, doesn’t it?”

“Very good, Phil. Both excellent ideas. Of course, criminal psychology is not our field, and psychology is, as they say, a ‘soft’ science, however, law enforcement has been trying to get into the minds of criminals for centuries, and it’s only recently we’ve been taking it to such a high level. Even our best boys can never know for sure what they’re dealing with, but it’s always worth it to get their thoughts if they’re not too busy.

Now that we have this guy nailed as our suspect, we’re going to have to start collecting evidence to charge him with. Everything we have so far is circumstantial. We have no physical proof. The best thing would be DNA, but so far they haven’t found any at any of the scenes.” Jake turned back to Phil. “Do you have any ideas as to where to start looking?”

“If the killer was in the dream like we were, he was taking the place of someone else, right? We should find the house that was in the dream, and the group of kids who are supposed to be there that night. We have some first names: Cornelia, Sophie, and Adrian. We should look through the high school registry to see if we can find those students and their group of friends, and which one would be babysitting a younger neighbor the night of Halloween. I’m not sure if that’s going to lead us to any physical evidence, as the crime hasn’t been committed yet, technically, but it’s a start. We should be working on both trying to solve the crime that hasn’t taken place yet and collecting evidence to indict the killer- Spencer Charnas- on at the same time,” Phil suggested.

“That’s a very good point, Phil,” Jake remarked. “And you’re right, that’s a very tangible place to start. You know, that’s one thing we haven’t nailed down yet: how is the killer picking these victims? I mean, how did he know there would be a group of summer camp counselors in Texas? Or a group of friends will be babysitting here on Halloween?”

“Oh!” Phil exclaimed. Jake and Dan peered over at him expectantly.

“I think I might know,” Phil alluded, waving his phone around. “They have a social media app that’s designed for the most hard-core fans. It’s a place where fans can connect with other fans, etc. and the band members are on themselves as well. What better place to see who is doing what when in an area you’re touring near then checking out what your fans are saying? Especially if you’re going to be in a scenario that mirrors one of your favorite movies.”

“Interesting theory. We’ll have to have the tech team sweep all the victims’ phones and find out if any of them were fans of the band, and if so, did they have this app and post about either being a counselor or having to babysit, or something similar,” Jake posited.

“The babysitting one might not have come up yet. Halloween is still almost two weeks away,” Dan pointed out.

“That’s true, but it’s another lead to look into either way. We need to be covering this from as many angles as possible. It’s very rare to get a case where you know a crime is going to happen before it does.”

“Do you think he knows we know?” Phil asked.

Jake looked at him. “If anyone was going to know that, it’d be you,” Jake responded. Phil knew it was true, but it was unhelpful.

“Can’t you, like, scry, or something?” Dan asked. Phil shrugged.

“Scrying is more for watching people, not mind reading. I guess if I tried hard enough and found him while scrying I could try and mind read him there.”

“Let’s not push it. You’re still using a lot of your energy to heal up. Let’s focus on getting you better first,” Jake input. “Besides, we have a lot of other leads we can focus on now. Let’s work on those first.”

*-*-*-*-*

High school in the town of Haddonfield, Illinois was just getting out by the time two FBI agents and one FBI psychic pulled up in front of the building. The street was lined with kids flooding out of the building either to walk home or get rides, and behind the school long, yellow school busses emerged crawling at a slow speed as they started towards their intended directions. Upper classmen who were old enough to drive found themselves either waiting sensibly in the parking lot in their cars or talking to friends, or, for the more desperate, being stuck in the barrage of after-school traffic on the crowded street.

“We might have to park a few streets over and walk in,” Jake mentioned, craning his head around cars, students, parents, and faculty as he slowly crawled in front of the building, looking for a parking spot.

“That’s fine,” Dan replied, also watching out the window. He was sat in the back seat next to Phil.

“What time does Sarah get out?” Phil asked.

“In about an hour. We can swing by and pick her up. I think it’d make her day,” Jake smiled to himself.

Jake managed to park on the next street over and by the time they’d made it to the front of the school, the crowd had died down considerably.

They entered the front door of the building held open by a few of the staff on their way out and navigated to the main office.

“Did you go to this school?” Phil asked Jake as they walked. 

“No, no, we moved here a few years before Sarah was born.”

They were able to locate the main office and asked to speak with the principal.

The principal was an older man, who looked weary in his years. After some discussion, they were able to see the record of students attending that year, and sure enough were able to pick out three students by the name of Sophie, Cornelia, and Adrian. 

“Can you show me the files on these three students?” Jake asked, pointing out the names to the principal.

“I’m not sure that we would really call them files, but sure,” the principal responded, pulling up the school photos and addresses of each student.

“We’re looking for two other students in this friend group. Can you direct us to them?”

“Sure thing. I would assume you mean Sam and Olive.” The principal pointed to two more students on the list.

“Can you pull up the- um- profiles- for these students as well? And if possible, could we have copies of all five of these?”

The principal pulled up the profile for Sam, which Phil noticed had a small note attached that read “he/him” while the principal asked “Is it alright if I ask what all of this is about?”

“They’re not in trouble, and we wouldn’t want to worry you with the details. We’re sure it’s nothing, we’re just following up on a lead in a case we’re working. I doubt these kids are involved, but we just want to do our due diligence, especially for the families who are involved with this case,” Jake assured him.

“Well, I doubt these kids would be involved in much nefarious. Good kids, they are. Real artsy bunch.”

“You know your students well?” Jake asked.

“I used to be the shop teacher before I got promoted to principal when the guy before me retired. Had this lot in the shop their freshman and sophomore year.”

“They seem like good students,” Jake agreed as the printer spat out papers on each of the students. 

“They are. Always polite, never cause any trouble. Make good grades, and do a few extra curriculars here and there.”

The principal snatched the papers from the printer and handed them off to Jake. 

“Let me know if ya’ll need anything else from me,” the principal added. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he restricted himself.

“Will do,” Jake assured him. “And I promise, these kids aren’t mixed up in anything.”

Seemingly reassured, the principal nodded, and saw them out of the main office.

When they reached the front steps of the school they took a moment to look at the profiles of Samantha (“Sam”) and Olive. 

“One of these two addresses is bound to be the one we’re looking for,” Dan pointed out.

“Well, we can take a drive by them after we pick up Sarah from school and drop her off at home,” Jake suggested.

Together they walked back to the car and Dan and Phil climbed into the back seat.

The rode down a few roads towards the middle school. Jake pulled into the parking lot and went into the office to let them know he was there to pick up Sarah instead of letting her get on the school bus. The office called the classroom she was in and let her teacher know she was being picked up instead of getting on the bus. With hopeful but cautious eyes she looked back at her teacher, but the teacher didn’t elaborate. When Sarah was finished with the school day she gathered her things as quickly as she could and raced down the hall to the front of her school.

“Daddy!” she called excitedly, unabashedly slamming into him in an embrace. Jake hugged her back and they talked as they exited the school together, hand in hand.

When they reached the car, Sarah peeked in the back seat at Dan and Phil before climbing in. They said hello and introduced themselves, and Jake encouraged Sarah to tell them how her day went and what she was learning in school on the drive back to Jake’s house.

Sarah told them in a quite voice and Dan and Phil made sure to nod along enthusiastically and show their support for her.

They stopped in to the house to say hi to Molly before heading back out to take a drive to the two houses.

“Should we flip a coin to see which one we should head to first?” Jake suggested.

“Sure,” Dan suggested.

Jake pulled a coin out of his wallet and flipped it, calling heads to go investigate Olive’s house first and tails to go investigate Sam’s house first. It landed George Washington side up.

Jake drove them through town again in his car. He knew the town well enough to not need the GPS, but he couldn’t recognize the house by memory on Dan and Phil’s vague description from the dream they’d had.

Olive’s house was a bust. All the houses on the street were one story buildings made of brick. Sam’s house, on the other hand, stood across the street from a house that Dan and Phil confirmed was the one they’d seen in their dream. 

“Now we just have to find out who lives there,” Dan mentioned.

He looked at Jake in the front seat. “You know, you live around here. Maybe you could talk to the family as someone who lives around here, and not the FBI,” Dan suggested. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jake admitted. “Unfortunately, if what you say is true, this kid should be a few years younger than Sarah, so there goes my first idea.”

“Neighborhood barbeque?” Phil suggested.

“Not really in the same neighborhood as me,” Jake countered. “It’d be more like a town barbeque.”

“True,” Phil conceited.

They drove back to Jake’s house to reconvene. 

“We can have the techs over in Quantico and our connections across the state look over what little evidence we do have, but unfortunately we don’t have enough to catch this guy on,” Jake sighed.

“So what if we wait?” Phil suggested.

They looked at him.

“We know where and when the crime is going to take place. So what if we wait until the crime is being committed? If we witness the killer in the act then we have the grounds to arrest him.”

“That’s risky. What if we don’t get to him in time and he kills someone?”

Phil walked down the sidewalk from his house. It was just a little before 7am, and he was on his way to school. He had his backpack slung over his shoulders and his textbooks in his arms folded to his chest. As he navigated the streets of his suburban neighborhood, his best friend Sophie joined up with him.

“Are you ready for a wild night?” She grinned, shooting a kick out in front of her. It threw her off balance slightly, and she wobbled, laughing hysterically at herself.

“I can’t, remember? I have to babysit.”

“On Halloween? Boo!” Sophie nudged Phil’s shoulders with her own.

“I know, it really sucks,” Phil sighed.

“Shitty. It’s shitty. You’re allowed to say shitty.”

“It’s shitty,” he agreed.

“Well, what if we take the party to your place then?” Sophie suggested with a wry smile.

Phil shook his head. “You know I can’t. What’s one year sitting in? Besides, aren’t we a little old to be trick-or-treating?” Phil asked.

“Well, we wouldn’t be trick-or-treating,” Sophie laughed. 

“Well then it’s really a hard ‘no’.”

“Come on, Phil.”

“I said no.”

“Fiiine.”

Phil rolled his eyes and spotted a flash of something behind a bush on the street.

“Did you see that?” Phil asked.

“See what?” Sophie laughed.

“I don’t know, it looked like a man in a dark jumpsuit and a white mask…”

“Well, it is Halloween,” Sophie reasoned.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Phil said more to himself, and focused back on their walk.

*-*-*-*-*

The two of them reached Haddonfield High School without further incident. Out on the front landing where students congregated, three kids leaned up against the brick wall that ran the length of the school’s front steps.

“Hey, babe,” Sophie called to her girlfriend, Cornelia.  Stood next to Cornelia was Dan, Phil’s boyfriend, with his dark eyes and darker curls. He’d known Dan for years, but it was only recently they’d started going out. 

Dan reached out for Phil and pulled him into a deep kiss that made Phil’s heart flutter and his stomach do flips.

“Gross, you all need to get a room,” Adrian suggested. He’d been standing next to Dan when he’d pulled Phil in for a kiss, and had made a show of pretending to vomit during it.

“It’d be one hell of a party if we did!” Sophie smiled.

“Come on, guys, we’re gonna be late for class,” Phil tugged on Dan’s sleeve with one hand while the other clutched his books to his chest still.

“Alright, alright. Such a killjoy. Come on, give me those.” Dan pulled the books from Phil’s chest.

“Such a gentleman,” Sophie faked a sniffle.

“God, do you ever shut up, Soph?” Cornelia asked, shooting an elbow into her ribs.

“I sure do,” Sophie smiled, pressing her face to Cornelia’s.

“God, I have GOT to get a girlfriend,” Adrian said aloud to himself.

“We’re working on it,” Sophie assured him.

“Well hurry up!” Adrian fired back, splitting off to his first period math class. The others waved as he left.

“See ya!” Cornelia called as she headed into her art class. Sophie followed her with a dreamy look and sighed loudly. “She makes me the happiest lesbian in the world,” she commented quietly to Dan and Phil.

“I know,” Phil smiled, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you to Creative Writing so you can write all about it.”

“I will, too,” Sophie agreed.

“I know you will.”

Sophie split off from the couple and headed into her creative writing classroom. Phil turned his attention back to Dan.

“Do you have this feeling like we’re forgetting something?” Phil asked when it was just the two of them.

Dan frowned, wracking his brain. “No… do you think there’s something I should feel like I’m forgetting?”

“I don’t know. I think so,” Phil mumbled.

“Well, I’ll let you know if anything comes up, okay?” Dan pulled Phil in closer by wrapping an arm around his shoulders and kissing him quickly on top of his raven hair. 

“I love you,” Dan smiled.

“I love you too.” Phil grabbed his book back from Dan and split off from him, entering his own classroom.

He sighed as he took his seat in the second-to-last row. He wished he could spend the night with Dan and his friends, but he’d made a commitment, and besides, he was saving up his money so Dan and him could take a trip together, just the two of them, after they graduated. Something special before they went their separate ways in college. Phil wasn’t sure how long their relationship could survive two different colleges on other ends of the state, so he wanted to make the most of his time with Dan while he could. He was sure they’d always be friends, though. It was just one of those things he was sure of.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil weaved his way in and out of the teenage lunch crowd to make his way to the table his friends and him sat at in the lunch room. His backpack was tucked away safely in his locker, and in is hand was the lunchbox he packed and carried to school every day.

Adrian was the first one to join him at their lunch table. Most days it was Adrian who got there first. Adrian claimed it was because his classroom was the closest, but Phil thought it was really because he barreled his way towards the lunch room as soon as the bell rang.

Phil half-listened as Adrian chowed down on his food and talked at him, waiting for the rest of his friends to arrive.

The last one at the table was Dan, who took his usual spot next to Phil. Phil moved his leg so that his and Dan’s knees touched.

“I finally feel like I’m forgetting something,” Dan said immediately after he sat down.

“Great! Now can you remember anything about what it might be?” Phil asked eagerly.

“What are you talking about?” Sophie interjected.

“Sophie,” Cornelia scolded.

Phil dismissed her concerns. “It’s fine. I feel like I’m forgetting something, and like Dan might be too.”

“Just one of those feelings you have?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah, just one of those feelings,” Phil agreed.

For as long as Phil could remember, and as long as he’d known Sophie for sure, sometimes he’d get feelings like he knew things others didn’t. It was a strange feeling, and very diverse, but it’d been with him all his life, he presumed, and he hadn’t found anyone else who had feelings quite like it. His friends had adjusted to it well, not that it really affected Phil in his day-to-day life too much. Most times it was just like today: the feeling he should be remembering something. 

“Did you remember your homework?” Sophie asked.

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Yes, Sophie,” Phil sighed. He’d never once in his life forgotten his homework.

“And you’ll remember to babysit- what’s his name again?”

“Spencer.”

“And you’ll remember to babysit Spencer?”

“Yes, Sophie,” Phil repeated. “And besides, those things don’t involve Dan and I.”

“So, what, you guys had some sort of secret plan you just didn’t tell us?” Adrian joked. “Were you conspiring against us?”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. Guess we’ll never know for sure unless one of us remembers.”

They continued chatting and eating for the rest of the period until it was time to return to classes. 

Dan hung back a little father than the rest of the group, and Phil followed suit.

“Hey, wanna hear something strange?” Dan asked, trying to distract Phil, who he knew was wracking his brain trying to come up with what they were forgetting.

“What?” Phil asked, barely listening.

“I woke up this morning with a knife in my hand. I mean, I know it’s pretty on-brand, but still, creepy…”

Phil snapped to attention and blinked at Dan in surprise.

“You woke up with a knife in your hand?” Phil echoed.

“Yeah, it was wei-”

“So did I.”

Dan paused and pursed his lips.

“Do you think this has anything to do with what we’re supposed to remember?” Dan asked.

“It’s gotta, right?” Phil shook his head.

They continued down the hall without saying anything. Phil was thinking hard, and Dan was letting him. But when Dan came to the classroom of his next period class, he said his goodbyes to Phil, and Phil returned them.

Phil continued walking on to his classroom in thought, but nothing came to him.

He sat through the last few lessons of the day distracted, but when the final bell rang Phil decided to drop it and focus on hanging out with his friends on the way home before heading to his neighbor’s house to babysit.

“Did you remember what you were forgetting?” Sophie asked as soon as she merged with him and Dan in the hallway. Cornelia and Adrian weren’t far behind her.

“I didn’t,” Phil admitted, “but it’s alright. I have other things I need to worry about. It’s just weird, that’s all.”

“Well, no more weird than all the other times, right?” Sophie joked. Phil didn’t respond.

The five of them walked out of the brick school building. Dan, Cornelia, and Adrian split off from Sophie and Phil, who lived in the opposite direction.

“So, are you sure-” Sophie started, as soon as it was just the two of them.

“Yes, I’m sure I can’t throw a Halloween party. And besides, you know that’s not really my thing,” Phil mentioned under his breath.

“You need to start living a little, Phil Lester! Loosen up!”

“I know, I know. But I need to focus on finishing this year and getting into college.”

“There’s more to life than school you know,” she chided, shaking her head.

“I know,” Phil agreed. “But right now, I just want to focus on homework, and babysitting.”

“Are you taking Spencer trick-or-treating?” she asked.

“No, his parents won’t let him trick-or-treat.”

“Boo! What’s the fun in that? Well, are you at least going to get into the Halloween spirit?”

“Yeah, I bought some pumpkins at the pumpkin sale outside the church yesterday, and I’m sure there’ll be some kid’s Halloween movies on.”

“Boooooring.”

Phil shrugged. “It is what it is. I’ll text you, alright?”

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Soph called as she skipped away, rolling her eyes.

Phil sighed and glanced across the street in a different direction. 

He saw the same man as he had that morning stood unnaturally still on the sidewalk in a workers uniform and a white mask with brown hair peeking out from the top. Confused, Phil focused in on him, but as soon as a car drove by he disappeared. 

“What?” Phil mumbled to himself, clutching his books tighter to his chest. He shook his head, trying to shake it off, but an auspicious feeling still remained.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil stood over the kitchen island scooping the guts out of one of the pumpkins he’d bought to bring to the Charnas house for Spencer to carve. He’d laid down newspaper over the counter, and it was a good thing too, because the guts of the pumpkin squished in his fingers and ran over them, spilling onto the newspaper with a sickeningly wet dripping noise that triggered something deep inside him he didn’t quite understand.

Phil’s phone buzzed on the counter, but he’d left it screen-down to avoid Spencer accidentally (or on purpose) taking a peak at Phil’s screen and asking some invasive and possible hard-to-explain questions. Thankfully, The Thing was playing on TV, and Spencer was engrossed in the movie. Unfortunately, Phil’s hands were slimy and wet and full of mush. He dripped his way over to the sink, which he held his hands over while he fumbled with his knee to open the cabinet door underneath to throw the pumpkin guts in the garbage. 

When he was successful, he closed the door with his knee again and used his wrist to flip the sink on. He heard Spencer say something he couldn’t quite hear over the water running. Phil scrubbed the pumpkin guts out of his fingers as quickly as he could and shut the water off.

“What was that?” Phil called back over his shoulder as he dried his hands on the kitchen sink towel.

“There’s someone outside!” Spencer called again.

Phil sighed to himself.

“Well, get the bowl of candy and open the door!”

Phil heard Spencer shuffling around while he dried his hands and returned the the counter.

He was reading the message he missed from Sophie when he heard a group of all-too-familiar voices yell “Trick-or-Treat!”

“Dear god,” Phil sighed, reading the message on his phone.

Surprise!

By the time Phil looked up Sophie was already pushing her way past Spencer towards Phil in the kitchen, trailed by Dan, Cornelia, and Adrian.

“Soph,” Phil sighed, frustrated.

“Hey, I’m clean,” she defended, raising her hands. “No nothing here. Not even my pen.”

“She figured we could at least hang out with you and Spencer since we’re all too old to go trick-or-treating anyway,” Cornelia explained, brushing bright red curls behind her ear and leaning her elbows on the counter next to her girlfriend.

“And besides, it wouldn’t have been fun without you,” Dan smiled, coming up behind Phil and sliding an arm around his waist.

“Dan!” he hissed, elbowing his boyfriend in the ribs.

“Come on, kid’s gotta learn about gay people at some point,” Dan rolled his eyes, but backed off of Phil.

“Is there anything good to eat in here?” Adrian called from inside the fridge. Sophie leaned back and placed her foot on his butt and gently nudged him off-balance inside the fridge.

“This isn’t your house,” she chided. “Get!”

Adrian sighed and emerged from the fridge, closing it softly.

“This looks good!” Cornelia complimented, gesturing towards the pumpkin on the counter. “Going for a minimalist design this year?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Phil mocked. “It’s not done yet.”

“Well I hope you bought enough to share,” Adrian joked, giving Phil a big side-eyed look.

“Look, why don’t you and Spencer work on this one, Sophie and Cornelia can have that one, and Dan and I can start on that one,” Phil suggested, pointing towards the other two pumpkins on the counter behind them. 

“Why do I have to work with Spencer?” Adrian asked.

“Because, nimwit, you’re the only one who doesn’t have a partner,” Soph lambasted.

“And whose fault is that?” Adrian shot back.

“Probably yours,” Dan jumped in.

“Alright, alright, just go grab the pumpkins and bring them over here,” Phil waved.

Cornelia and Dan moved to bring the other two pumpkins to the kitchen island.

“There’s someone outside!” Spencer called, peering out the window. The Thing was still playing on the TV.

“It’s probably trick-or-treaters,” Phil called, “why don’t you grab the bowl of candy and offer them some… again…” he added, under his breath.

“To be fair, we weren’t trick-or-treaters,” Dan pointed out. 

“But we did say ‘trick-or-treat’,” Adrian countered.

“And we didn’t even get any candy,” Sophie pouted.

“They’re gone,” Spencer wailed softly.

“Probably a ding-dong-ditcher!” Sophie called to him.

“A what?” Spencer asked.

Phil sighed and turned back towards his friends. Adrian was in the fridge again, pulling out a soda bottle.

“Is there a can opener in here?” he asked, trying (unsuccessfully) to pry the cap off with his fingers.

“I don’t know,” Phil muttered, frustrated. “Go check in the garage.”

“Fiiiine,” Adrian sighed, bringing the bottle with him.

The doorbell rang and the four teens watched as Spencer gleefully grabbed the bowl of candy and opened up the front door.

“See, that’s what a kid his age should be doing,” Sophie pointed with her knife over the group of kids huddled on the front porch stoop yelling out “trick-or-treat” in sing-songy voices.

“It’s none of my business,” Phil interjected. “They’re paying me like fifty bucks to be here. Telling parents how to parent their kid is way above my pay grade.”

Just behind the first group of kids was a slightly smaller group being chauffeured by some parents patiently waiting at the bottom of the walkway for the older kids to leave. The older kids ran off the porch, cutting through the lawn, giggles fading in the distance, while the four teens continued to carve their pumpkins. 

When Spencer was done handing out candy he closed the front door and returned the bowl to the chair that had been placed by the front door.

“Where’s Adrian?” Cornelia asked.

“He went out to look for a bottle opened,” Dan reminded, focusing on carving a skull in his and Phil’s pumpkin.

“Yeah, but he should be back by now,” she argued.

Sophie shrugged. “Then go look for him.”

“Fine,” Cornelia said, not quite slamming her knife down on the newspaper but also not placing it gently.

“He probably got lost or something,” Sophie scoffed, but as soon as the word left he mouth an ear-splitting scream rang through the house from the garage.

Dan and Phil made eye contact and Phil ran immediately to stop Spencer from running into the garage while Sophie and Dan went to see what the matter was.

“Jesus Christ!” Dan’s voice boomed.

“Shit,” Phil muttered under his breath.

“Language,” Spencer reprimanded.

“Not now, Spencer,” Phil fired back quietly, holding him around the shoulders.

“Phil! You need to see this!”

“I can’t!” he called, still holding Spencer back.

“Phil!” Sophie yelled harshly.

“Fine!” 

Phil turned his attention back to Spencer.

“Spencer, you need to listen to me now. Go upstairs to your room and close the door. Got it?”

“But-”

“Now!” Phil yelled.

Phil hardly ever raised his voice, and he certainly had never raised it at Spencer. Startled, and a little frightened, Spencer did as he was told.

Phil jogged over to the garage door.

There on the floor lay Adrain. Blood was spilling out of the corner of his mouth and his gazeless eyes were facing upwards. Underneath him was a pool of blood, and the front of his shirt was stained a dark red. Cornelia and Sophie were huddled on the small set of steps that led from the house down to the attached garage, and Dan was standing over Adrian’s body. 

“Fuck,” Phil said, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, what the fuck?” he asked, his voice cracking and breaking as he started crying. 

“We have to call the police,” Dan said stoically, though he had started crying as well. He wiped his nose with the back of his wrist, snot drenching the sleeve of his shirt.

They all pulled out their phones.

“Fuck! I have no service!” Sophie cried, throwing her phone onto the pavement. Her case prevented the screen from shattering, and it bounced slightly before coming to a halt.

“Me either,” Dan said.

“Fuck,” Phil said again under his breath. He’d probably swore more in the last five minutes than he had all year, but his phone also showed no bars.

“What the fuck?” Cornelia asked.

“Someone is fucking with us,” Dan concluded.

“But why? And who?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head. “I don’t know. Phil, is there a phone inside?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen.”

Dan stepped around Adrian’s body back towards the steps and they all filed back into the kitchen, closing the garage door behind him.

Phil moved to the phone in the kitchen and picked it up, but there was no dial tone.

“Dead,” he reported back.

“Figures,” Cornelia sniffled.

“Someone’s going to have to go outside and call for help,” Dan said.

“Nuh-uh!” Sophie yelled. 

“Well we can’t just sit here like ducks!” Dan argued.

“Fine! You and Phil go outside, and Cornelia and I will watch Spencer.”

Dan made eye contact with Phil.

“Alright,” Phil agreed, not seeing any other option.

Dan grabbed his hand and they walked outside together. Dan led Phil away from the house by one hand as he held his phone in the other, watching the top left corner above his and Dan’s head on the picture of his lockscreen to see if any bars appeared.

Phil kept glancing up occasionally as they walked but for the most part he focus on his phone. Nothing seemed to change, though. Phil listened as hard as he could while focusing, but even listening as hard as he could he didn’t hear anything right before Dan called “Phil!” and tugged him away. 

Phil stumbled to the ground, phone shooting out of his hand and landing off in the grass somewhere. Phil whirled around onto his back and looked up. The man he’d seen before was standing over him. The eyes of the mask were dark and deep, as if there wasn’t anything underneath, but the butcher knife he was holding high above his head and high above Phil gleaned in the moonlight.

“Help!” Phil yelled, rolling to the side just as the knife came crashing down to the spot he’d just been laying in. 

The man in the mask looked up at Phil and Phil was finally able to see what was underneath: the eyes of the devil.

Gasping, Phil continued to stare as a hand firmly gripped his shoulder and pulled him up. 

“Phil, come on, RUN!”

Dan had let go and was running away back towards the house. Phil watched for a split second as the man struggled to pull the knife out of the dirt and grass before turning around and sprinting towards the house himself. When he was inside the living room he slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. Dan was hunched over, one hand steadying him against the arm of the couch and the other clutching the stitch in his side. 

“Go upstairs, now,” Phil ordered, and they reached the bottom of the steps as soon as they heard the front door slam open. 

Phil raced up the steps, right behind Dan. Dan flung himself into the first room he could find, which was Spencer’s parent’s room. Phil slammed and locked the door behind him again and Dan ran towards the closet and opened it. Phil made a beeline for the night stand and fumbled to unplug the lamp cord from the wall. When it was free, he grabbed the lamp and raced towards the closet to hunker down.

They held their breath as they heard deliberately heavy footfalls like those made by worker’s steel-toed boots as they silently prayed that the mysterious man wouldn’t find them or the others. Phil desperately wanted to tell Dan “I’ve seen him! He’s been following me!” but he dared not make a noise.

Suddenly Phil remembered what he had forgotten.

Phil gripped Dan’s arm tightly and Dan jumped, looking back at him.

Phil’s eyes were wide and with all his might he pushed out the thought I remember. It must have clicked in Dan’s mind too because suddenly his eyes widened as well.

This was not who they were. They were not teens in high school. They were not babysitting a kid on Halloween. They were two adults, in a far away state, in a dream, a dream that they swore they would take back a killer that had been haunting Phil’s dreams and leaving dead bodies behind in the real world. They had woke up with knives in their hands because they had fallen asleep with knives in their hands. The man had been following Phil because he knew that they were on to him. The same killer, three different costumes. And tonight was Halloween.

Phil thought back to when the man had been standing over him holding the knife. Yes. He’d been so focused on the soulless eyes staring out of the deep dark pits in the mask that he’d missed it at first, but this time he was sure of it: there was a nine on the mask.

And then it finally clicked.

“Oh my god,” Phil whispered. “I get it now.”

Before he had time to process any further there was a scream in the room next door.

Together, Phil still armed with the lamp, they lept out of the closet and grabbed the bedroom door handle, turning the doorknob and unlocking the door from their side. Dan held it open so Phil, who was armed, could rush in first. 

The door to Spencer’s bedroom was open and Sophie, sobbing hysterically, was dragging Spencer out.

“He got her!” she screamed loudly at them as she ran down the stairs, pulling Spencer behind her.

“Wait, I can’t go that fast-” Spencer pleaded, but she ignored him.

Both boys turned their attention to what lay in Spencer’s bedroom.

Cornelia lay crumpled on the floor, limbs bent at unnatural angles, blood pooling beneath her, spreading out around her like a gruesome halo. 

The man in the mask was no where to be seen.

Dan rushed in the room while Phil kept watch in the hall. While Dan checked on Cornelia to see if she was still alive, Phil was spinning slowly in a circle, trying his best not to trip over the lamp’s cord.

“She’s gone,” Dan reported back softly.

Phil spared a moment to glance at Dan as he slowly pulled her eyelids closed.

Dan followed Phil quickly down the stairs.

Sophie had grabbed two knifes from the kitchen, giving one to Spencer and keeping one for herself.

Phil dropped the lamp and ran over to the kitchen island, grabbing another two knifes. He flipped the knife in his right hand and passed the handle to Dan, who took it. Phil then moved the one from his left hand into his right and crouched ever so slightly.

“You said you get it now,” Dan recalled. “What do you mean by that?”

“Do you remember who we are?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Think, Dan. This isn’t who we are. This isn’t who you are.”

“Who am I?” Dan asked, still confused.

“You’re an FBI agent. I’m your partner. Last year we met trying to solve my brother’s murder. Now we’re investigating the mass murders of children by someone dressing up in costumes. I’ve been having dreams about them. This is a dream.”

Dan scrunched his face up, trying to remember, but he was interrupted when suddenly the lights went out.

“Nooo,” Sophie wailed. 

Dan and Phil moved closer to her and Spencer.

A noise drew their attention to the door that led out to the garage. Even though Dan had closed it behind him when they left, it was open now.

Dan moved slowly and deliberately towards the door while the remaining three all watched on intensely.

Dan kept his eyes focused in front of him, knowing the others were watching from behind. When he was close enough, he reached out and slowly pulled the door closed. It shut softly with a click. Dan sighed and turned to face Phil and his friends with a solemn nod, but as he watched in horror, the masked man stood behind Sophie. Before he could call out the man grabbed her around the head with one arm and pulled the knife across her neck with the other. Dan watched the look of fear in her eyes drastically increase, and with a gurgle, she slumped to the floor.

Phil watched Dan’s face and turned around just in time to watch it happen but not in enough time to stop it.

With Sophie clutching her throat gurgling on the floor at his feet, blood spurting everywhere, Phil leaned over and plunged the knife in the man’s side before grabbing Spencer and running towards Dan by the back door. The three of them watched as the man looked down at the knife silently, tilted his head almost as if he was curious, and pulled the knife out of his side, dropping it to the floor where it landed with a clatter.

“Shit” Spencer whispered before the three of them fled out the door Dan had just closed.

In the chaos they ran in different directions, Dan sprinting off towards the left, Spencer running towards the road straight ahead, and Phil cutting across the front lawn towards the house next door.

Phil turned to watch the others as he ran. He could see Dan’s shadow moving in the darkness, and he wondered why both before and now there seemed to be no one in the street even though it was Halloween when suddenly he was rocked to the ground again, this time after hitting a very large and solid object in front of him.

Phil looked up and saw the man in the mask standing over him once again.

Phil saw the knife come down and rolled once more, but this time he wasn’t quick enough. Phil felt a burning in his side, but he bit his tongue from calling out, and tried his best to play dead. Through the searing pain that brought tears to his eyes he watched the man walk away slowly, unnaturally, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Phil’s eyes screwed shut from the pain, and he finally let himself emit a noise of distress. He heard footsteps run over to him and felt a small presence standing over him. He opened his eyes and looked at Spencer.

Spencer was standing over him, staring, knife hanging from a tiny hand.

“Dan!” Spencer called, pleading for help, gazing in the direction Dan had ran before turning his attention back to Phil.

Phil felt a tightening in his chest and coughed, feeling warm liquid spill over his lips, but he was in too much pain to reach up and wipe it away. Instead, he stared up at Spencer as Spencer stared down at him.

“I know it’s you,” Phil whispered as Dan came running over. Spencer looked at him confused for a moment before turning his attention to Dan. Dan knelt by Phil’s side.

“Phil, oh my god, Phil.”

Phil coughed up more blood.

“Dan,” he whispered.

“I’m going to get help,” Dan insisted.

“Dan,” Phil coughed again.

“What?”

“Wake up.”

“What?” Dan repeated.

“Dan… wake up…”

October 13th, 20:00

Phil sat in his living room with Dan, chewing on a muffin he’d made that morning before Dan had arrived. They were waiting for Jake to get there. Phil’d been up early that morning, though, he was up early most mornings, to make the muffins and other baked good he sold to customers when they arrived. Tonight, though, it was just the three of them once more. Tonight, it was all or nothing.

Dan sat on the oversized plush recliner, the one Phil’d picked up from a secondhand shop, the one that’d had its own ghost when he’d gotten it, the ghost of the old man that had lived and died in that chair, and a ghost Phil had thankfully been able to banish from his own house. Banishing ghosts wasn’t a service Phil offered but it was a skill he’d learned, and it’d come in a handy a time or two in his life believe it or not. You’d be surprised, he’d tell you, how many people are haunted by ghosts and just don’t realize it. Phil made a living off of making other people’s grief his problem, though, and he didn’t intent to add ghost hauntings to that list as well. If you were haunted by a ghost that was your own business, not his, and he was sure there were many reputable sources out there on how to be rid of them yourself. It simply wasn’t his problem.

Phil finished his muffin and went to throw the wrapper away when he heard a car pull into the gravel parking lot of his apartment. Dan had been scrolling on his phone in silence, but looked up as the headlights moved horizontally through the windows. 

None of them had come up with a better idea, so here they were, on October the 13th, when it was predicted that Phil would have another prophetic dream or nightmare in which one man managed to do the impossible and slay children in a way that just seemed like it came out of a horror movie, because it could only exist in Hollywood.

It was just past 8:00 and Phil had a bottle of sleeping pills on his nightstand and a chair overlooking his bed.

Jake knocked on the apartment door and Phil opened it, greeting his coworker and inviting him into his humble abode. Jake took in the bookshelves crammed with an assortment of books and knick-knacks Phil had collected for the craft and the trade or simply just for the aesthetic. The three of them had been staying in touch from their respective home states over the past few weeks, and it was for the first time since flying home from Texas that the three of them were joining together once more on this auspicious night.

When it was time Phil led Dan and Jake upstairs to his bedroom. Phil carried two glasses of water, Dan carried two knives, and Jake carried a gun holstered onto his hip.

Phil sat down on one side of the bed, and Dan the other, and Jake moved the chair to the foot of the bed so he could watch them both at the same time, and one or the other if needed.

Phil poured out two pills from the bottle into his hand and grabbed one of the glasses of water. Dan grabbed the other glass of water while Phil placed the other pill in Dan’s hand.

“Are you ready?” Phil asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Dan smiled, echoing the words Jake had spoken just weeks before.

“God bless you,” Jake said again, though he wasn’t even sure if he believed in God.

“Bottom’s up,” Phil smiled, popping the pill in his mouth then swallowing a gulp of water to chase it down with.

“Bottom’s up,” Dan replied, doing the same.

And then they sat there.

“I guess we wait for the pills to kick in now,” Phil suggested.

“Sounds good,” Jake agreed.

There was a pause.

“So how was the flight here?” Phil asked.

“It was good, thanks. Nice drive coming in too. Nice little area.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it.”

“Your apartment’s lovely.”

“Thank you, I quite like it.”

“I noticed you got some fake plants.”

“Yeah I di- woah, just felt the pills kick in. You?” Phil asked, turning to Dan.

“Yeah, I did. Ready to lay down?”

“Laying down,” Phil said.

They laid down on either side of the bed and Dan handed Phil one of the knives.

“Now you remember, if anything goes wrong, you guys come out of there immediately.

“Right,” Phil agreed sleepily, taking Dan’s hand beside him.

“We’ll be alright. We’ll get him, you’ll see,” Dan bragged, words slightly slurred.

“Jake said he’s on his way.”

Dan peaked his head into the car. He’d unlocked the driver’s side door with his key and stuck his head in to talk to Phil, who was still staring at the back seat.

“Dan, we missed something.”

Dan’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Whaddya mean?” he asked.

“The man. His face. It was a mask.”

Dan pursed his lips and thought back to the dream Phil had shared with him.

“No,” he finally said, shaking his head. “That was his face.”

“No,” Phil argued, shaking his own head. “It was a mask. They said it was a mask. We can’t believe everything in the dreams.”

Dan glanced in the back seat. 

“They’re here?” he asked.

Phil shook his head again.

“No. They’re gone now. But they said it was a mask. A mask with the number nine on it.”

Dan thought for a moment and then climbed in the driver’s seat. His back was starting to become sore from leaning down into the car.

“You said the first killer had a mask on.”

“Yeah. Some sort of weird mask with holes in it,” Phil described.

“Well did it have a nine on it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t think so.”

“You talked to Dominic there on the beach. Did he say anything about a nine on the mask?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have a reason to ask.”

Dan glanced out the diver’s side window.

“The bodies from the camp. They didn’t have the marks on them like these did.”

“Neither did these ones until I touched them,” Phil countered.

Dan took a slow, deep breath.

“That doesn’t mean you did this,” he said again.

“No,” Phil agreed. “I didn’t do this. But I’m connected somehow. I don’t know why.”

Dan titled his head from side to side. “No. We don’t know why. But we’ll get through this.”

Phil didn’t say anything.

“You want to go back to Texas,” Dan said.

“Yes, I do.”

“Those bodies are buried already. Those kids have already had their funerals.”

“We might not have to do that,” Phil argued.

Dan puffed his cheeks out.

“You’re right. Let’s cross that bridge when we get there. In the meantime, can we agree to wait here until Jake arrives?”

“Yeah,” Phil mumbled.

*-*-*-*-*

Dan drove Phil back to the motel room where he sat on the bed he’d slept in the night before. 

“Are you hungry?” Dan asked.

He was, but Phil shook his head anyway. The thought of eating wasn’t one that appealed to him at the moment. He could wait until Jake got there in a few hours. For now, he scrolled through his social media feed to try and take his mind off of things.

Dan looked around the motel room. There wasn’t a point in trying to get anything done while they waited for Jake, not that there was really much else for them to do. He supposed they could go look at the crime scenes to get a better idea of things, but once again that seemed like something they should wait for Jake to do. And besides, Phil didn’t really seem like he wanted anything more to do with the case right now. Dan wanted to reach out, to try and comfort him somehow, but he just didn’t know what to do. 

“Did ya want to watch something on the TV?” Dan asked, but even as he was saying it it sounded like the most lame attempt at trying to make things better.

“Um, sure,” Phil replied. Dan could tell Phil was also trying to make an attempt.

Dan grabbed the remote and walked over to Phil’s bed. Phil scooted over and Dan sat down next to him and thumbed the power button.

Dan was able to find the channel guide and they glanced through it.

“The Exorcist is on,” Dan noted, gesturing towards the tv with the remote.

“Odd time for The Exorcist to be on,” Phil commented, but nodded, and Dan started scrolling back through the channels.

“Did you hear about the new ouija board?” Dan asked.

“No?” Phil replied, confused.

“Apparently it’s supposed to talk to Jesus.”

Phil let out a chuckle. There was a pause of silence between them.

“I’m not sure I get the punchline,” Phil finally admitted as he watched Regan throw things around her bedroom with her mind- not all that unlike him.

“Hmm? Oh, no, there’s no punch line, I was being serious.”

“Wait, really?” Phil asked, chuckling a little harder.

“Yeah, seriously.” Dan pulled out his phone and did a quick search on his browser app, tilting the phone towards Phil.

Phil reached over with his far hand and grabbed Dan’s phone from him and scrolled through the search result. He clicked over to the images tab and handed the phone back.

“Wild. Isn’t that, like, kind of sacrilegious?” 

“You would think.”

“I’m not sure I know anyone who uses a ouija board that’s going to be trying to get a direct link to Jesus.”

“No? You don’t think you’ll be picking one up for your next seance?” Dan joked.

“No, I doubt they’ll sell these ones at Walmart,” Phil countered.

Dan punched him playfully. “Ugh, shut UP about that!”

“Did you know that the ouija board named itself?” Phil asked.

“No, lol,” Dan said, the word rolling off his tongue.

“Yeah, apparently the guys who patented it, who didn’t believe in ghosts themselves, brought it to a local medium, and her first question was what the board should be named, and it spelled out ouija.”

“And people have been mispronouncing it ever since,” Dan reminisced.

“Oh my god, I love that video,” Phil smiled.

“Oh, yeah, that and the ‘pregnant’ one?”

“Love it,” Phil repeated. “Anyway, then they brought it to a company to get the patent, and I guess the guy said something like ‘well, I can’t consider this a tool or whatever because I also don’t believe in ghosts, so unless the board can spell out my name then I won’t be patenting it’, and apparently the same medium was able to get the board to spell out his name so that’s how it got patented.”

“Supposedly none of them knew his name?” Dan clarified.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It was probably on his shirt or on the wall behind him on some framed certificate or something and the medium was like ‘oh perfect’ or some stupid shit.”

“Literally,” Phil agreed.

“Honestly any person worth their salt trying to get their invention patented would probably research who they’re meeting with first, right? Like is that not a normal and polite business transaction?”

“Yeah, probably, I don’t know, I’ve never patented anything. Never invented anything.”

“You mean you didn’t invent the Jesus Ouija Board?” Dan asked, feigning shock.

“Can you believe?” Phil played along. “No, I didn’t. Can’t imagine why I didn’t think of it.”

“Honestly. What a moron.”

“Yup, sure am.”

“When does her head spin around?” Dan asked, turning the conversation back to the movie.

“Not for another few scenes. Have you ever seen the extended version?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“That’s where they have the backwards stair scene.”

“Holy shit, how did I never realize that wasn’t in this movie?”

“I don’t know, how many times have you seen it?”

“Maybe two or three times. Why? How many times have you seen it?”

“Probably more times than was healthy for a child my age.”

“Did Martyn watch it with you?”

“Oh yeah, he was always watching horror movies and shit with me when I was a kid.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, I miss it.”

“Still haven’t heard from him?”

“No,” Phil shook his head. “That’s alright. I still don’t know how the whole thing works, you know? Is there really an ‘other side’ they can cross to where I can’t reach them?”

“Have you asked?”

“Yeah, they don’t really seem to understand it themselves.”

“Do you think you’ll have a better understanding of what happens after you die than most people?”

“Oh, yeah, totally. How could I not?”

“How many times do you have trouble connecting to ghosts when people call for them?”

“Not often, but more than I’d like, ideally. I guess ‘ideally’ it’d be none at all. I issue a full refund if no contact is met.”

“And do like, your customers, seem happy, most of the time?”

“With, like, my seances?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d say so. Otherwise I’d doubt I’d keep it up.”

“You shouldn’t let negative people get you down.”

“If I let negative people get me down I wouldn’t be here,” Phil jested.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Dan replied, rolling his eyes. “You’re the one that’s been a Debby Downer lately.”

“A ‘Debby Downer’?” Phil smirked, trying to steer away from how he’d been feeling.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.”

“You gonna speak to someone eventually?”

Phil glanced at Dan. It was the same question he’d asked a month ago in the bathroom at Quantico.

“Yeah,” Phil finally agreed. “I guess I don’t have to bring up the ghost stuff.”

“That’s good,” Dan commented.

“What about you?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Phil huffed.

“Fine. Maybe.”

“We need couple’s counseling,” Phil joked, feeling relaxed enough to make the comment.

“Probably. Pretty sure the FBI offers services for that.”

“Really? You wanna see a fed shrink?”

“I am a fed- and so are you!”

Phil scrunched his face up and rolled his eyes. “No I’m not.”

“Whatever,” Dan laughed.

He continued to stare at the screen. 

“Finally! She’s spinning her head!”

“Uh-huh,” Phil pretended to feign amusement.

“Why can’t you do that?” Dan joked.

“Gee, I never thought to try,” Phil replied back dryly.

“You should.”

“I’ll get on it,” Phil nodded seriously.

They turned their attention back to the movie again.

“Wanna play with the ouija board?” Phil joked.

“You don’t have one,” Dan pointed out.

“No, but I could make one again.”

“Right. No, I’ll pass.”

Phil smirked.

“It is weird to you that people use the word ‘play’ with a ouija board instead of like, ‘use’ a ouija board?”

Phil shrugged. “I guess not really. At the end of the day it is a board game. It’s just got some supernatural elements. It’s a tool in the same way monopoly is a tool for when they have little operations in movies and they pick what monopoly piece represents them and they move it around the little map to plan out their elaborate plan,” Phil compared.

Dan frowned.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think it’s like that at all, but okay.”

*-*-*-*-*

The movie wrapped up while Jake was still on his way up from Quantico to New Jersey. By now Phil’s hunger had increased past the point of wanting to wait around for Jake to land and drive all the way out to picturesque Blairstown to meet them, so Dan agreed they should head over sooner and find a place to eat while they waited.

They piled into Dan’s car and made the drive back out to Blairstown along scenic New Jersey byways. 

Driving slowly down the same main street they’d arrived in on and parked to survey the town when they first arrived they spotted a local diner a few buildings down from the police station. It had red and white checkered awnings and a cow statue on the roof. The lettering on the front read “Rozzie’s”.

“Whaddya think?” Dan asked, squinting against the afternoon sun.

“Can’t go wrong with a cow on the roof,” Phil made a case.

“Can’t go wrong with a burger and fries,” Dan countered, pulling into the parking lot.

The lunch rush had passed and only a few tables inside held patrons. The decor was farmy, and it had a quaint local small-town New England feel, the same as the rest of the town, and the same as where each of them had grown up.

The menu was standard for a small town diner, serving burgers and fries, salads, sandwiches, chicken tenders, pizza, and more.

Pil ordered a lemonade and Dan elected to try the coffee, even though it was well past noon.

Phil sucked down his lemonade happily as the two chatted waiting for their orders to come out, while Dan slowly sipped from his mug of hot coffee.

“Gotta stay sharp,” he said. “It’s gonna be a long day once Jake gets here.”

The food was good and they left a tip. Jake’s plane landed right as they were finishing up, so the two of them decided to head out and walk around the town some more.

“It’d be nice if I wasn’t privy to the fact that there were four brutal homicides committed here just days ago,” Dan mentioned, sipping a cup of coffee he’d taken to-go from the diner.

“It’s almost like being on vacation, except there’s really no reason for me to vacation in a residential New England town considering I don’t know anyone here and I live in one myself,” Phil agreed.

“How are things back at the bakery?” Dan asked, making conversation. They hadn’t spoken in the month between Phil’s dreams since they hadn’t been on the best of terms. Logically, Phil knew it was his fault, but somehow he felt like blaming it on Dan for making Phil feel the way he felt about him.

“It’s been alright. Business has been slow, but I guess that’s kind of on me. It hasn’t been a bad thing. I haven’t really been pushing my marketing because I haven’t really been feeling the best. Just. Not sleeping. Feeling confused about things. Feeling hurt. And scared.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan blew on his coffee. “I should have been there for you.”

“I scared you off,” Phil said. “I was scared, and I had these feelings, and I still have them, and I didn’t know how to handle it on top of the murder of these poor kids.”

“There’s nothing between me and Jake, you know. I mean, he has a wife and a kid. A little girl. Sarah. She seems like a great little kid, as far as kids go, you know? I met them once when they came to visit him. He lives out west, so he doesn’t get to see them much. That’s gotta be pretty hard.”

“It’s been hard having you gone.”

Dan glanced over at Phil quickly but turned away as Phil turned to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I was busy. But I still should have made more time to call or text you.”

Phil shrugged. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

“No, but you’re my friend, probably my only one besides Jake. And from what I’ve gathered, I’m probably your only friend too.”

Phil shrugged again but didn’t say anything.

“We’re going to get through this. And we’ll see where we stand when it’s over. But for now we’ve got to keep our heads down and focus. I know that it’s hard for you to focus with all these unanswered questions between us, but I can’t think about that right now. I need to focus on my job right now. And that includes keeping you safe from whatever this is. You understand?”

Phil nodded. He so desperately wanted to ask “But do you like me? Do you have feelings for me? Do you like me in the same way that I like you?” but he didn’t. He’d been selfish enough as it was. He didn’t need to add to it. He know he thought it loud enough for Dan to hear though, without even trying, but still, Dan didn’t respond. They just kept walking.

“Seems like a nice place to live,” Dan commented, changing the subject back to the town.

“Yeah, I guess. A lot nicer than where I live.”

“Really? I like your town,” Dan commented.

“Well, yeah, I guess it’s just not as…”

“Upper middle class?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this is Main Street.”

“That’s true.”

“I’m sure there’s some more moderate neighborhoods once you get out of the main area of town here and out into the woods and stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Dan felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he pulled it out.

“Jake should be on his way here in about twenty minutes. He’s taken a cab from the airport.”

“No private jet this time?” Phil joked.

“Unfortunately not.”

They turned around and started to walk back the way they came in anticipation of meeting Jake at Rozzie’s, where Dan’s car was still parked in the tiny parking lot.

“At least we got to walk off some of that lunch,” Dan feigned holding a large stomach.

“Was some good shit,” Phil nodded, looking straight ahead at the sidewalk in front of them as they walked.

“Sure was. What did I say, can’t go wrong with a burger and fries.”

“Can’t go wrong with a cow on the roof.”

*-*-*-*-*

Dan and Phil were leaning on the side of Dan’s car shoulder-to-shoulder with their arms crossed when Jake’s taxi pulled into the parking lot at Rozzie’s. They watched him in silence as he thanked the driver and handed him a tip, grabbing his overnight bag and making his way over to Dan’s car.

Dan pushed off from the car and walked around to the trunk, popping it open so Jake could throw his duffle bag in.

“Have you already eaten?” he asked, glancing between them.

“Yeah, we did. Did you?”

“I did.”

“Then let’s get this party started.”

*-*-*-*-*

“I want to hear directly from you what happened.”

They were sitting in Rozzie’s again anyway, even though none of them were hungry. Dan ordered another cup of coffee, making it his third in a row. Unbeknownst to him or Phil, this was also Jake’s third cup of coffee in a row. Phil ordered another lemonade.

“What? Sugar is just as good as caffeine,” he’d argued when they’d given him raised-eyebrowed looks.

Now Dan and Phil were sitting on one side of a booth while Jake sat on the other side facing them. 

“How in the hell did you get the police chief to change his ruling?” Jake asked.

Phil turned to Dan.

“Can I order desert?” he asked, seemingly ignoring Jake.

Dan looked at him in confusion.

“Phil you’re thirty-one you can do whatever the fuck you want. Just answer the question.”

Phil shrugged and turned back to Jake.

“We were able to talk the sheriff into taking another look at the bodies. We were able to level with him and he agreed to change it back to murder after we called him out on his bullshit and threatened to send the full force of the FBI down on this little town if he didn’t cooperate, so he let us head down to the morgue in the basement where we got to look at the bodies. They were covered in slashes. I knew that we needed some sort of evidence so I took a look at the bodies hoping that my psychic instincts or whatever could ‘reveal’ some sort of link, and somehow I ‘revealed’ the roman numeral nine that had been carved on the back of their necks that wasn’t there before. When I talked to Maria and Tony, they said the killer had been wearing a mask, which is something neither Dan nor I caught in the dream. The dreams I’m having, they’re not perfect or exact, but they’re enough to go on. They said on the mask was the number nine in roman numerals. I want to go down to Texas and see if any of the ghosts there can tell us if there was a number nine that we might have missed in the dream I had before on the killer down there’s mask.”

“And you don’t want to exhume any of the bodies to see if they also have this ‘nine’ on them?” Jake confirmed.

“No,” Phil stated deliberately. “I do not want to exhume any of those kids’ bodies.”

“And you didn’t put the mark there on purpose?”

“No. I revealed it. It was already there. Hidden.”

“How was it hidden?”

Phil shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

Jake dropped his head in his hands and massaged his forehead.

The waitress came over and Phil ordered a slice of chocolate mouse cake from the ice chest displayed by the register.

“I know you think we’re too close to this-”

“You are too close to this,” Jake interjected, cutting Dan off. “But I understand that Phil is our best lead and we have a responsibility to solve this case. I just don’t know how much I can justify going off such an unreliable lead. It’s not that I doubt Phil’s integrity, or think that Phil is lying in any way, but, well, Phil, you said it yourself: you were worried that you were doing this. That you put those marks there. How is this going to hold up in court? When the defense attorney asks me how I got the link between the case in Texas and the case here, what am I supposed to say? This guy, when we catch him- and we will catch him, I promise- he could walk if we’re not VERY careful about how we state we’re obtaining these leads and this information, and very thorough about our process. Look, I don’t mind stretching the truth here and there or wording things a little more scientifically or maybe changing the order of events to make things look more legit in court, and to protect you, Phil. But I really don’t know how to say that you somehow managed to convince a sheriff that was willing to cover up a quadruple homicide to come clean about it and then while not under order from the FBI you managed to “find” these marks, these calling cards that the serial killer left, if you will, that the coroner somehow missed, and then get both of those parties to agree to go on the witness stand and not completely discredit everything that we’ve put forward with their version of events.”

The waitress came back with Phil’s plate and Dan reached for it, passing it over to Phil, who was sitting on the inside of the booth.

Phil unwrapped the silverware from the napkin it’d been wrapped in on his spot and stabbed at the edge of the cake with his fork, scooping it up and placing the bite into his mouth.

“This is delicious, by the way, if anyone wants some.”

Neither Jake nor Dan said anything.

Phil swallowed his bite.

“I understand, Jake. I don’t think you don’t want to solve these murders. I promise. I don’t think you’re harassing me. I promise. I understand you need to think about this outside of solving the case. I understand you have to think about the trial and the evidence and I don’t. I guess that’s a blessing for me, in a way. I don’t work that way. I’m a do-first-and-explain-it-later kind of guy. I don’t have procedures and protocols to follow. How could I? There’s no rulebook that was ever meant for me. That would take someone like me into account. And I want it that way. I don’t want people to know what I can do. People thinking I’m a crackpot nutjob keeps me safe. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be involved with these murders. But I am. I understand we are on the same side here. I do not consider us opposing forces. I’ll default to you on how you want to go about this. I’m just trying to provide you with the best information I can. Information you can’t get anywhere else. Information that you shouldn’t have.”

Jake nodded. “I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from. I have to act like you’re an unreliable source, or, like you said, like I don’t have the information you’re giving me at all. I just need to think, okay?”

“Okay. I’m going to eat this cake. Are you sure you don’t want some?”

“We’re sure,” Dan responded.

Jake turned to watch the patrons of the restaurant as they sat and talked and moved around.

Seemingly changing the subject, he asked “What can you do, Phil?”

“Hmm?” Phil replied, caught off guard with a bite full of his mousse cake in his mouth.

“You said you don’t want people to know what you can do, and when we were on the beach in Texas when you were talking to Domonic, Dan said he’d seen you do things he didn’t think was possible. So what can you do?”

“Well,” Phil thought. “I can see ghosts. I’ve always been able to see and talk to ghosts. And I can summon them, even without any tools, though the tools make it easier. I can… feel things. People’s emotions. I can tell when they’re lying, and I can tell what they’re thinking in a way. And I can send people thoughts. Well, Dan. I can talk to Dan with my mind. I haven’t really tried it with anyone else, I guess. I can move things with my mind. I can convince people to do things. If I’m being honest we didn’t level with the sheriff and come to an agreement. I convinced him to change it to a homicide.”

“Of course,” Jake sighed.

“It didn’t use to be all of that. A lot of it picked up when Dan and I were hunting down Martyn’s killers. It’s attached to my emotions, a lot of it. The stress of being in danger every day really heightened things. And when we were in imminent danger is when I was able to start moving things. To deflect the bullet and save us.”

Jake nodded along but didn’t say anything.

“It’s like you see in the movies pretty much.”

“Can you show me?” Jake asked.

Phil shrugged. “I guess.”

Phil placed his fork down on the table and stared at it, concentrating. With his mind, he started building it’s momentum, letting it spin as if it’s been twirled by someone’s fingers on the table top. When it’d reached a peak speed he let it simmer and slow down on its own.

“It gets more uncontrollable with emotions.”

“Fascinating. Just like Eleven in Stranger Things.”

“So I’ve been told,” Phil grumbled.

“Alright, are we ready to head over to the police station?” Dan asked.

“Let’s,” Jake agreed, shuffling out of the booth.

“Are you going to pay for that?” Dan asked, nodding at Phil’s empty plate.

“I didn’t bring my wallet,” Phil smiled.

“Jesus Christ.”

*-*-*-*-*

They made their way over to the police office in Dan’s car after Jake paid for Phil’s slice of cake. Together the three of them made their way down into the morgue basement after being okayed by the officer on duty.

“Back again?” Dr. Cadwell asked dryly. “Well, you suits are nothing if not efficient. It’d be nice if things moved that quickly around here.”

“Well, what can we say? How often does a quadruple homicide happen in such a lovely town like this?” Jake asked, flashing a smile.

Dr. Cadwell shrugged. “Probably more often than we’d like to think.”

He turned back to his paper work.

“Cheerful man,” Jake mentioned quietly.

“I guess we just help ourselves?” Dan asked, shooting a glance over at Dr. Cadwell, who seemed altogether uninterested in them and their business.

“Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing,” Jake suggested, grabbing hold of one of the freezer doors after reading the tag on it. He turned the handle and pulled the door open, reaching for the steel slab inside and pulling it out on its wheels.

It was the body of Maria, the only female victim in the murders.

“Such a pretty girl,” Jake mumbled absentmindedly, gazing down at her cold, dead body. Phil could feel Jake thinking about his own girl at home- Sarah, he’d thought Dan had said was her name. He reached out with his mind and sent some comforting feelings Jake’s way. From what Phil had gathered over time was that the feelings he pushed on other people were never strong enough for them to really notice on their own. It was only when he became closer with people like Martyn and Dan that they started to recognize when Phil was influencing their feelings. He liked being able to silently help people this way. He was sure some people would find it manipulative, but, then again, so did a lot of people about the psychic and seance business in general, especially these days.

Jake smiled quietly to himself and grabbed some gloves on a near by rolling tray table. He pulled them on and rolled the girl over for himself, gently brushing her hair aside from the back of her neck, probably as her parents had done many times while she grew up, and perhaps the body in the freezer next to her when it was still living.

He saw for himself the mark Phil had revealed.

Jake rolled her body back over and pushed her back into the freezer, closing the door behind her and locking her back into the darkness. From there, he looked at the other three bodies, one by one. When he was done he moved into the entrance way of Dr. Cadwell’s office, hovering until the man looked up at him.

“Might I view the files on these victims?”

Dr. Cadwell waved a hand towards his file drawer.

“Be my guest.”

“Mm.”

Jake took it upon himself to open the top filed drawer and leave through the files inside, pulling out the four files on the teenagers.

“You don’t have to work on updating these?” Jake asked.

Dr. Cadwell shrugged half a shoulder. “Not right now. I’ll wait ‘til you guys are done for the day.”

Jake shrugged in return and returned to where Dan and Phil lingered.

“Let’s take these upstairs and have a look at them,” Jake suggested. He followed the two younger men up the stairs where they met with the same officer on duty who’d cleared them.

“Do you have a room we could borrow to take a look at your files?”

“Sure thing,” the officer, who seemed much more friendly than Dr. Cadwell and the police chief. 

He led them around a corner and guided them into the first room on the right.

“Come find me if you need anything,” he smiled, and closed the door behind him on the way out.

“Nice to see a friendly face in here,” Jake commented pointedly.

“They can’t all be winners,” Dan smiled back.

Jake spread the four files out on the table and pulled photos of the autopsy from each of them.

He grabbed each photo of the bodies facing prone and placed them closer to him. He picked each up and studied it briefly before setting it down again.

“No marks.”

“No marks,” Phil repeated.

Jake picked up the photo of the first victim, Chris, laying face-down on the autopsy table and again looked at it.

“And you’re sure-”

“I’m sure,” Phil interrupted.

Jake stared at the photo continuing to think.

“And you don’t want to exhume the bodies?”

Phil shook his head. “I want to solve this case for the victims, and part of that is respecting them as much as I can. We should talk to them first. See if their stories match up with Tony and Maria’s. And when the killer strikes again, then we’ll know what to look for.”

“We don’t know that the killer’s going to strike again,” Jake enforced. 

Phil shook his head in disagreement. 

“No, we don’t, but why wouldn’t he? What does he have to lose? ‘We’ll catch him eventually’? How many other killers out there have remained uncaught? Whose to say we’ll ever catch this guy?”

“We will,” Dan assured him.

“How do you know, though?” Phil sighed, overwhelmed.

“Because we have you,” Jake said, looking Phil in the eyes.

“And we’re smarter than him,” Dan promised, taking Phil’s hand in his own. “We can do this Phil. And besides, we have another big advantage: we know about him but he doesn’t know about us. He has no reason to think anyone suspects these cases being linked.”

Dan watched as Jake’s eyes flickered between Dan, Phil, and their hands clasped together, but Phil seemed to absorbed with what Dan was saying to notice. He nodded and squeezed Dan’s hand just a little. Dan smiled, and when he looked at Jake, Jake smiled back at him.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil sat in the back seat with his earbuds in looking out the window as Dan drove the three of them back to the motel Dan and Phil were staying at. Jake had offered to let Phil ride shot gun, but Phil said he didn’t mind being in the back seat, so Jake had climbed in the passenger seat instead.

“I’m happy for you,” he said quietly enough that Phil wouldn’t hear over his music.

“What do you mean?” Dan asked, feigning ignorance.

Jake gave him a knowing sideways glance.

“There’s nothing between us,” Dan stated.

“If that’s the case then you better say something soon before you break that boy’s heart.”

“I can’t break his heart right now,” Dan said. “I need him. We need him. For the case.”

“Is losing a friendship really worth this case?” Jake asked.

“People are dying. Kids. No one knows that better than Phil does. I’m playing the part I am to get what needs to get done done. I told him we’d talk about it when the case is over.”

“Well I hope you're putting your best effort in to solving this case, then, instead of pushing off a hard conversation under the guise of a serial killer looming in the back of his mind.”

“It’s because of the case that I’m pushing this off. I’m doing it so that I can focus. I can’t tell Phil what he doesn’t want to hear. He’ll lose focus. He’s a ticking time bomb. Sure, his party tricks are fun, but it’s not so fun when he’s yanking the steering wheel with his mind while you’re trying to drive. How long before he really goes off and gets someone hurt?”

“He saved your life,” Jake reminded him.

“Back then. This is different. He’s losing focus.”

“He was searching for his brother’s killer back then. It’s different.”

“Well, he might as well be searching for his own killer now, the way he has these dreams. He was right, when it said it felt like we- he- really died. It felt real. It was real. He was there.”

“So what after this, then? Hmm? You go back to Quantico, you leave him behind, things fade away between you two?”

“That was the plan. And it was working, too, until this case popped up.”

“You’re lucky you have any friends, Daniel Howell.”

“I don’t, and I don’t need any.”

*-*-*-*-*

When they got back to the motel Dan and Phil waited in the lobby while Jake booked himself a room for the night.

“So what’s the plan?” Phil asked.

“What do you mean?” Dan replied, cocking his head ever so slightly to the side.

“I thought you guys were planning our next move on the way over here.”

“Oh,” Dan glanced down at his shoes. “No, um. No. Maybe we can reconvene in our room once Jake gets settled, yeah?”

“And then we can go back to Texas?” Phil asked, sounding like a little kid begging his parents to take him back on another vacation after just arriving home.

Dan sighed. “We’ll see.”

Jake started to head away from the front desk so Dan and Phil started down the hall to the rooms, merging with Jake as he kept a slower pace waiting for them to catch up.

“Once you get settled did you want to meet us in our room?” Dan asked, mostly to humor Phil. Phil was right though: they needed a better plan than sitting around and waiting for the killer to strike again- especially because Dan knew Phil was also right on that- in a few weeks the killer was due to be back with another batch of dead kids, and they were merely waiting for the bodies to turn up instead of trying to get ahead of him at this point in time.

“Of course. I’ll meet you guys in there.”

They came up on Dan and Phil’s room. Dan pulled the keycard from his pocket and tapped it lightly against the electronic keypad, causing it to beep quietly as the light blinked green and the lock clicked open.

“I’m glad these things are touch now. I’m lousy with keys. Takes me forever to get it in the keyhole and turn it just right.”

“Shocking,” Dan replied dryly, letting them in.

“I guess I’ll take a shower now before we get back on the road again,” Phil smiled, walking over to his bed and rooting through his suitcase for some clean clothes.

“Remember your goddamn clothes this time, okay?” 

Phil looked up at him and met his eyes with a glare.

“And what exactly does it look like I’m doing now?” he asked dryly.

“Digging your way to Texas,” Dan shot back, pulling out the desk chair and plopping himself down in it.

Phil rolled his eyes and carried his clothes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind it.

Dan turned to face the desk and placed his head in his hands, thinking back on the conversation he’d had with Jake on the drive over to the motel.

What he’d said was true, to a degree. He had expected things to move on between him and Phil. He had been busy at Quantico, and while he hadn’t purposefully let things slip between them, he also hadn’t put as much effort into keeping in touch with Phil. As close at they’d become during and after the first case they’d worked, Dan just couldn’t really see them working together that much after the fact. It wasn’t anything personal against Phil. It’d been great for the FBI to retain Phil as an on-call psychic. But, how many cases were the FBI really using a psychic on in this day and age? Dan had assumed he’d be put on assignments with other FBI agents, start making more friends in the FBI department, and that his and Phil’s working relationship would turn into a more personal one like it had after they’d solved Martyn’s murder. And Dan was happy to have a friend like Phil during that period in his life where he’d been transitioning from being the rookie in his force to an FBI agent in a class of his own, making friends with his peers. And it’d been nice to have someone with him when his mom died, and someone to come with him during the funeral down in West Virginia. But Dan never kept friends for very long. A few years here and there, but everyone in his life had come and gone, either by their hands, his hands, or both. It was just a fact Dan had come to accept. It was easier to let people go when you never expected them to stay in the first place.

Besides, Dan’d been out of the dating scene for a long time. He’d had a few casual boyfriends here and there, a lot of flings and one night stands- if there was one thing he could say for himself, it was that he seemed to be a catch. Maybe it was his sarcastic nature, or his warm brown eyes, or dimply smile, or something, but Dan’d always been able to crank up the charm. It just wasn’t something he did anymore. He guessed somewhere down the line he’d become numb enough that the joy that came from entertaining people didn’t outweigh the effort it took and the empty feeling inside that came when it was all over. He guessed that was what growing up did to you.

No, he’d never planned on leaving Phil, per say. But he also didn’t expect him and Phil to be friends for life. They were friends now, in this moment, and Dan was happy with that. But he couldn’t rely on Phil- and he didn’t- not outside this case, anyway.

And honestly, after the way they’d left things in Texas, Dan had assumed that’d been it. And yeah, he was upset about the way things ended, if he was being honest. He’d had a few more drinks than normal during that month and had picked smoking back up again, though he’d stopped cold turkey when things got going again.

And that was just it: things had gotten going again. Suddenly Phil was back in his life again. Suddenly Phil had feelings for him- or, he guessed, Phil had had feelings for him this whole time, or at some point a lot longer again than Dan had realized. It’d been so long since Dan was with anyone romantically that he must’ve missed the signs. Or maybe, he told himself, he’d ignored them.

And now what? What happened when this was all over? What happened when the bad guy was caught, and they’d saved the day again? Well… it was back to square one, wasn’t it? Dan was going to be busy in the FBI. He didn’t anticipate working with Phil, and he didn’t anticipate having much of a social life outside of his work. This was his career. What he’d been working towards. He went from the rookie cop in a rinky-dink podunk New England town to a real bonafide FBI agent in under a year. I mean, talk about an underdog story. And where did Phil fit in to all of that? The truth was, he didn’t… not to Dan at least. Not back then. But things had changed. They always do, it seems.

Dan lifted his head from where he rested it in his arms and looked at the bathroom door, listening to the water running and remembering last time Phil’d been in there, how he’d come out, looking like that, making Dan feel like that…

Dand shook his head and placed it back down in his folded arms. He didn’t know. And he needed to push it out of his head and focus.

He’d been exaggerating a little when he told Jake he was planning on leaving Phil forever, telling them there was nothing between them. Dan knew it and Dan knew Jake knew it too. The truth was he was scared. Because what if there was room for Phil in Dan’s life? What then?

Suddenly a knock at the door roused Dan from his thoughts. He got up and answered the door.

“Oh,” Jake said, after taking one look at Dan’s face.

Jake sighed, and pulled his keycard out of his pocket.

“The room number’s on the keycard. I’ll leave a note.”

Dan wasn’t too sure what Jake was talking about but he glanced at the keycard as he headed out the door down the hall and found Jake’s room. He tapped the keycard, thinking about Phil’s comment from before. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. Everything came back to Phil.

Dan sat on the empty bed and Jake followed in behind him. Jake grabbed the chair from his own motel room’s desk and pulled it out, swinging his legs open and stradling the back of the chair, leaning on it like Dan always did.

“Talk to me.”

Dan shrugged.

“What are you, five? This is like pulling teeth,” Jake joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dan didn’t say anything so instead Jake started.

“I know you didn’t mean what you said in the car to me. So what is it, then?”

“I don’t know,” Dan started. “I guess I just thought that I was going to join the FBI, and Phil and I were going to drift apart, and that would be that. I would have friends in the FBI, and he would go back to doing his own things, and that would be that.”

“Why did it have to end?” Jake asked, sounding for all the world like a therapist. Dan supposed he might as well be in this moment.

“I don’t know. My life is in Quantico now. I was thinking about moving to be closer, or seeing if they might reassign me somewhere else. There’s nothing left for me in Massachusetts.”

“Alright. And is there now?”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I guess I just never thought of Phil that way until… that dream felt so real. But it was a dream. And you heard what Phil said. We can’t trust them. What if we give this a shot and then I realize the feelings weren’t real? They were all just part of the dream…”

“There’s nothing wrong with waiting until all this is over with and see how you feel after.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to not let it distract me from what’s going on now. And hopefully when all this is over I can put effort into deciding how I feel.”

“There’s such thing as a life outside the bureau too, you know,” Jake reminded him. “A lot of us do manage that work-life balance.”

“I know, it’s just. I’m starting somewhere new.”

“I understand. Just because you’re starting a new life doesn’t mean you have to leave everything in the old one behind. Besides, how long have you known him, really? Isn’t he still new?”

“I guess,” Dan agreed.

“You said yourself you don’t know what he’s capable of. I think he can really surprise you.”

Dan shrugged.

“Listen, Dan. It’s time for you to grow out of that puppy crush you have on me and look around you and see what you’ve really got. He really likes you. You’re lucky to have a friend like him.”

“I know,” Dan agreed, turning red at the acknowledgment of his feelings towards Jake. “But do I really deserve that?”

Jake cocked his head to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, like I said. I’m focused on my work. Phil deserves someone who can give him the time and attention he deserves. Besides. I never keep people around for long. I’m sure there’s a reason for that.”

Jake waved Dan’s concerns away.

“You’re overthinking it. It’s hard not to. Why don’t you cross that bridge when you get there. Work on the case. See how you feel. Let yourself feel. I know you feel like you can’t focus if you let yourself think and feel on these things, but you can’t focus worrying about it so much either and not acknowledging that it’s eating you up inside. Learn to balance acknowledging your feelings without stifling them and not letting them distract you.”

Dan was reminded of how he’d compared himself to how Phil thought about things. It was true they did have some sort of connection, beyond whatever was in Phil’s dreams. They wouldn’t have made it this far without that.

“I think Phil makes you a better agent, anyway. Keep that in mind.”

Dan hadn't thought of it that way, but Jake was his mentor, and he took his advice to heart.

“Now, we’ve left poor Phil stranded alone in that room without an explanation. Let’s get back to him, shall we?”

“At least he remembered his clothes this time.”

Jake gave Dan a look. “Is there something you want to share? Actually, no, don’t. I’d really rather not.”

*-*-*-*-*

Phil answered the door with his earbuds in, pulling them out with his other hand as he held the door open for two of them.

“All good?” was all he asked when Jake and Dan had both made it out of the hall and into the motel room.

“All good,” Jake agreed, and he went to sit in the desk chair while Dan sat on his bed and Phil sat on his.

“I wish they’d make these chairs a bit more comfortable,” Jake remarked, shifting himself in the wooden chair.

“Guess we can’t have it all,” Phil joked. Jake smiled at him.

“Anyway, we need to plan our next move, as Phil so kindly pointed out. Phil wants to go down to Texas to reinvestigate the previous murders down there.”

“He wants to talk to ghosts,” Dan clarified.

“He wants to talk to ghosts,” Jake clarified, “and reinvestigate the previous murders down there. Does anyone have any objection to that?”

None did.

“Question, Phil.”

“Mm?”

“Could you not just summon the ghosts here?” Jake asked.

“I could, but considering this is an official, or, well, somewhat official FBI case, I figured it would be best to do my- our- investigating at the source. As someone so kindly pointed out, doing this as by-the-book as possible is what’s best for the paperwork and the trial.”

“Ah, yes,” Jake remarked. “Thank you for that clarification.”

“Since you guys drove here you’ll have to drive back somewhere. I guess Phil’s house would be the closest place, no?”

“Yeah, I’m about two hours from here,” Phil agreed.

“Alright, so tomorrow morning we’ll head out to park at Phil’s place and from there we’ll work on getting a flight out to Texas. I’ll try and make the arrangements tonight so that we’ll have transportation out to the plane and a plane waiting for us. I suppose worse come to worse we could catch an Uber or a Lyft and take a passenger plane like the rest of the population. The horror.”

Phil chuckled.

“Well, if that’s all then I suppose we can plan out the rest of the details of what we’re doing on the drive there and the plane ride back down to Texas. Does that sounds fair?” Jake asked.

“Sounds good to me,” Dan agreed.

“Well, then I’ll leave you two lovely gentlemen to your evening and bid you adieu.”

Jake got up and headed for the door. He called a “goodnight” over his shoulder and exited Dan and Phil’s shared motel room.

Dan and Phil sat on their respective beds in silence for a moment.

“Do you think The Exorcist is on again?” Phil joked.

Dan chuckled softly. “Yeah, maybe.”

There was another pause of silence.

“I’m not trying to put you off, Phil,” Dan said again. 

Phil frowned slightly, not sure where this was coming from. Perhaps, he figured, this was weighing more on Dan than he’d previously thought. And maybe that had been what Dan and Jake were discussing in Dan’s room. And perhaps in the car ride too.

This, of course, was the truth.

“It’s fine, Dan. I didn’t think you were.”

Dan shrugged.

Phil couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty that’d he’d unintentionally caused all this added stress on Dan. He knew Dan had enough stress with his own life outside of Phil, and now the case they were working on.

“It’s okay, Phil. It’s not your fault.”

“Thanks.”

Another pause of silence.

“So, did you want to see if The Exorcist was on again?” Dan joked.

Phil smiled, glad that they were moving on, as much as he was dying to sort everything out between them.

“I doubt it’s still on, but I’m sure there’s another horror movie playing on some other channel that’s spreading lies and misinformation about ghosts and the afterlife.”

“Oh so The Exorcist is a misinformation campaign now?” Dan joked.

“Yes. I’ve changed my tune. I don’t like it when people say they ‘play’ with ouija boards, there’s no such thing as demons and demonic possession, and this is false ouija board propaganda made to scare kids into a false narrative.”

“Well, considering like all of the eighties, it worked pretty well I’d say.”

“And here we are today. If it’s not demonic possession it’s being gay. The kids really are just never truly safe.”

“Diagnosed gay through the ouija board.”

“Turned gay from demonic possession.”

“Tag yourself.”

Phil snorted.

“Come on, my bed’s closer to the TV,” Dan scooted back of the edge of his bed until his back was up against the wall propped up by some pillows, and patted the empty space next to him.

Phil climbed off his own bed and onto Dan’s bed next to him, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating and the tingling his skin felt in such close proximity to Dan, almost like there was a ghost nearby. Maybe there was. The ghost of something yet to be.

*-*-*-*-*

When Phil woke up he was asleep in Dan’s bed. He guessed he must’ve fallen asleep during one of the movies they’d spent the night watching. Even though it was only September they’d managed to find a horror movie marathon of newer movies than The Exorcist. At some point Phil’d obviously fallen asleep.

Dan was nowhere to be seen, and Phil wondered if he was over in Jake’s room waiting until Phil had woken up before getting ready to head out. They certainly weren’t in a big rush to get out on the road: though time felt pressing, they still didn’t have a solid plan. 

Phil rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled over out of the motel bed. He was still dressed in the clothes he’d changed into after his shower yesterday. He supposed if he had known they would just be driving to his apartment this morning he could have waited to take a shower in his own bathroom, but it was what it was. One less thing to worry about.

Phil thought about heading over to Jake’s room to see if they were in there waiting for him to wake up, but he realized he didn’t actually know what room Jake was staying in. Though Jake had left a note for Phil last night saying that’s where they had been, he hadn’t actually put what room number it was on the note.

It didn’t really matter, though, Phil figured. Dan would be back to collect him and his belongings eventually.

Phil finally rolled out of bed. He was glad they’d be stopping off at his apartment even if they weren’t staying. It was always nice to have your own bed, your own food, things like that. 

Plus he was sure the milk was over by now.

As he ruminated while packing up he heard the lock on the door whir and click and heard Jake and Dan enter, chatting away like old pals. He was happy Dan had a helpful role model and mentor in his life. 

“We’re all packed up and ready to go as soon as you are,” Jake directed his attention to Phil as soon as they came into view in the living area of the motel room.

“Sounds good!” Phil replied. “I’ll be ready in about five minutes!”

“Anything we can help with?” Jake asked, shifting into an almost dad role.

“I’m good, thanks.”

True to his word, Phil was packed up and ready to go in roughly five minutes.

“I got us a plane heading in at the airstrip closest to your apartment, we’ll have a driver meet us there and bring us on over to the airstrip,” Jake informed Phil as they walked down the hall towards the front desk in the reception lobby.

“Sounds good,” Phil said again. “How do you know which airstrip is nearest to my apartment?” he asked.

“Dan informed me where you live. He said your apartment was very eclectic.”

Phil turned towards Dan. “I didn’t realize you remember my address,” he commented.

“I do,” was all Dan said.

Dan and Jake took care of checking out at the front desk while Phil looked out one of the windows, people-watching other guests in the parking lot as they loaded up their suitcases in their car. He wondered what they were visiting for. As far as he was aware, there didn’t seem to be many attractions around, so perhaps they were visiting family.

Phil was pulled away from his thoughts as Jake and Dan moved to collect him.

“Ready to go?” Jake asked.

“I suppose,” Phil joked with a soft smile.

“I vote we leave him here,” Dan chimed in.

“Nooo,” Jake smiled back. “I promise we won’t leave you here,” he told Phil.

Together they walked out to the parking lot and climbed into Dan’s car. Jake insisted on Phil riding shotgun this time, so he did. They talked the whole way to Phil’s apartment. It was nice, Phil reflected. He knew a lot of times these days he was lost in his own inner world, with earbuds in, shutting out the rest of the world because it was just too loud. But there were times where he missed the casual conversation of friends, especially in a car where he wasn’t bombarded with the outside world.

When they reached Phil’s apartment, the driver hadn’t arrived yet, so Phil invited them inside to rest. They sat down each with drinks, used the bathroom, and Phil threw away any spoiled food he had. He reflected on how he’d used to care for plants, but even before all the traveling he’d been doing in the last two years he’d killed them dead. He loved the aesthetic, but just couldn’t keep them alive. He asked Jake if he should invest in fake plants, and Jake encouraged him to. The driver arrived and together they rode to the airstrip approximately 45 minutes away.

The flight to Texas was a smooth one, and before they knew it they were touched down and landing in the same area they had only a little over a month ago.

When they arrived to Camp Crystal Lake this time it was almost unnervingly peaceful. Gone was the crime scene tape, the news and crime scene vans and police cars that lined the side of the road, the flurry of activity of reporters and cops. Instead the sunlight filtered through the trees as leaves danced in the wind. Birds chirped and out of the corner of his eye Phil saw a squirrel digging through the fallen foliage. 

None of them said it, but they were all thinking the same thing. It was as if nothing had happened here. Nature had moved on. Nature had healed. The blood that had been spilled had soaked into the ground and was now nourishing the plants to grow. It was like the world had forgotten the lives of the seven teenagers who forever resided within the boundaries of the summer camp, forever kids.

“Do you think they’ll open it up again next year?” Phil asked.

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

They followed the path to the main hall and entered through the unlocked main doors.

“You’d think they’d have locked it,” Phil mumbled.

“Maybe they did, but some kids broke in and didn’t bother to lock it behind them.”

“Maybe.”

The entered the kitchen area.

“So, now what?”

Phil shrugged and looked around.

“This is as good as any place to try and reach out.”

They each pulled out a chair around the kitchen table following Phil’s lead.

Phil held both his hands out towards the two men on either side of him.

Both hesitated, but took Phil’s hand anyway.

“Are you ready?” Phil asked. He looked to Dan.

“Yes,” Dan said.

Phil looked to Jake.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jake replied.

Phil closed his eyes. It was only when he reached out he realized how much of his sixth sense he’d been blocking off. The pain of seven children cut down before their time was up nearly suffocated him. It was a dark and heavy contrast to the sunlight and the birds chirping and the trees swaying outside. Phil did his best to divy up the pain between the three of them. He could feel the two men on either side of him recoil as it assaulted their senses, clouded their minds, but he managed to pull them back in to focus. Phil reached out through the pain and the suffering to find the kids, the individuals still here. He felt the hair on the back of his neck raise as one by one he felt them surround them.

“Open your eyes,” Phil whispered.

He watched as Dan and Jake glanced around them in awe. The ghosts of seven kids were visible. Phil dropped the other’s hands.

“Phil?”

Phil heard a familiar voice and turned in his chair behind him.

“Dom,” he smiled.

“Everyone, this is Phil. He talks to ghosts, which we are, and he’s working on solving our murder.”

“Couldn’t have explained it better myself,” Phil smiled and nodded, internally cringing.

“Have you been making any progress?” Dom asked.

Phil’s smile dropped.

“There’s been another four murders. We think they’re connected to your deaths.”

The ghosts of the kids exchanged glances with one another. Phil was waiting for a bombardment of questions from them, and was quite surprised that they didn’t seem to be talking over one another to ask things. He was thankful, though, whatever the reason may be.

“Do any of you remember a mark on the mask of the person that killed you?” Phil asked.

“You think it was one person who killed all of us that night?” Tyler asked, surprised.

“I don’t know for sure yet,” Phil responded.

“I don’t know, it all just happened so fast. Honestly I don’t even know what happened,” Becky chimed in. Phil supposed that made sense, since she was the first to die.

“I had a good look at him,” a voice pipped up. Phil turned. 

It was Jessy, the girl that had died in the shed.

“I watched him come towards me while I tried to get the shotgun shells out of the box and into the gun. I saw some sort of symbol on the top of his mask, but I couldn’t tell what it was.”

Phil waited to see if anyone else chimed in, but they didn’t.

“Dom, I want to check something, if that’s alright with you?”

“Okay,” Dom nodded. “What are you looking for?”

Phil supposed he owed it to the kids here to tell them.

“I found a mark on the back of the other kid’s necks that the coroner missed. It was like. They weren’t there before. But when I touched their bodies, they appeared. One of the other ghosts, she said that she saw a mark on the mask of the man who killed her. I didn’t even know it was a mask in my dream. The dreams I’m having are a good insight, but I missed that vital piece of information from them, which is why we doubled back to talk to you guys. I’m hoping I can do the same with you.”

“But you touched her body, and you’re going to touch our spirits?” Becky asked.

“I’m going to try,” Phil reiterated. 

“Do what you gotta do, man,” Tyler agreed.

Phil turned back to look at Dom.

“Could you turn around and brush your hair aside for me?” Phil asked.

Dom did as he was asked.

Phil reached up and gently placed his fingers on the back of Dom’s neck. It wasn’t a hard surface, like touching a body, but something else Phil couldn’t explain. Suddenly Phil rocked back in his chair. His mind danced with images of Dom’s death. Phil yanked his fingers back.

“Did you see that too?” Dom asked.

“Yeah,” Phil nodded breathlessly. “I’m sorry, that didn’t happen last time.”

“It’s alright,” Dom assured him.

“Can I look at the back of your neck now?”

Dom leaned back a little, bringing the back of his neck closer towards Phil.

“Well?” he asked.

Phil took a glance around the room.

“It’s there now,” he finally said.

“What exactly is it?” Louise asked.

“It’s the roman numeral for the number nine. We don’t know what it means yet though.”

The ghosts looked between each other.

“Is there anything any of you guys might have seen or heard that night that you think might be of any use to us?” Dan asked, finally talking to the ghosts one-on-one.

“Just that it seemed like no matter where we were, he was always right there, either right in front of us or right behind us. I mean, not all the time, of course. But just. None of us escaped. We all split up and none of us escaped,” Tyler reminisced. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan replied.

“He didn’t say anything, either. I’m not sure if I would have expected him to say anything or not, but he didn’t,” Louise mentioned.

“We’ll take that into consideration, thank you,” Jake replied, making eye contact with her spirit.

“You’re gonna catch this son of a bitch, right?” Jessy asked.

“Yes,” Dan said. “We promise.”

*-*-*-*-*

“Now what?” Phil asked on their way back to the car.

Jake and Dan looked at each other, almost as if each was hoping the other would have some bright idea, some next step to take while they counted down the time until the next murder.

“The idea for Tony and Maria was to enter their dream to try and kill the guy after them. Maybe they had the right idea, and that’s how we beat this thing,” Dan suggested.

“Hold on, now,” Jake objected, pulling open the passenger car door and climbing in.

Phil felt weird continuing to have this conversation in front of a third party, that being the driver, but he supposed everything they said was supposedly confidential, and if the other two were fine with discussing it, so was he.

“You want to put yourself in danger of getting killed by this guy, while also waiting around to intercept his next killing spree, if that’s even what’s happened?” Jake asked skeptically.

“Yes,” Dan agreed. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Jake paused. “Well, no,” he finally capitulated.

“We have time to think of something else before we think this guy is going to strike again,” Phil chimed in from behind Jake.

“That’s true…” Jake trailed off, trying his best for the life of him to think of something, anything, better than Dan’s plan.

“Are you sure you really want to do this?” Jake asked.

“I’m sure,” Dan said.

“I’m sure,” Phil agreed.

Phil sat at his kitchen table with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a mug of hot tea in his hands. He hadn’t noticed, but it was the mug his brother Martyn had given him. The hot liquid had called out the constellations of stars, but Phil was too busy staring straight ahead at a knot in his wooden table while Dan paced back in forth in front of him on the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, it just happened. Yeah, I got over here as quick as I could. No, you don’t need to come up. We’ll be there tomorrow. I don’t know, I’ll think of something. Yeah, I’ll tell him. He’s in no shape to talk to anyone. He’s like, in shock or something. No, not like medically, but he may as well be. Yeah. I won’t. Okay.”

Dan pulled away his cell phone from his ear and ended the call.

He slipped his phone in his jacket’s pocket and glanced at the time on the stove.

“If we leave now we can make it by lunch,” Dan commented, more to himself than anything.

He stopped his pacing and pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table, sitting down.

“Phil?”

Phil continued to stare at the table.

“Phil?”

Phil looked up at him.

“Phil, I need to know what you saw,” Dan explained gently. 

Phil didn’t say anything.

“Phil, where was it?”

“I don’t know,” Phil mumbled.

“How many victims?” Phil winced.

Dan rephrased the question.

“How many people died?”

“Children,” Phil mumbled.

“How many children died?”

“Four.”

Dan glanced away for a second, pained.

“Who did this?”

“A man.”

“What did he look like?”

“He had scars on his face. He wore a fedora and a tattered and dirty red and green stripped sweater. He had a glove that had blades on the end of it. They called it a knife-glove.”

“What else?”

“I don’t know. It was always dark when he was there. It was hard to see him clearly.”

Dan paused and pursed his lips in thought.

“Phil?”

Phil didn’t respond.

“Do you remember when you were at my mother’s house? And you held her hands? And you looked through her memories?”

Phil nodded.

“Can you… show me? Can you show me what you saw?”

Phil took a moment to think about it. He supposed he could.

“Yes,” he replied.

Dan held out his hands.

“I don’t want to,” Phil objected, the horrors of his dream still fresh on his mind.

“I’m asking you to,” Dan argued softly.

“I saw you die again.” At this, a tear spilled down Phil’s cheek.

“Please, Phil.” 

Phil hesitated, but slowly, with great restraint, he placed his hands gently in Dan’s, closed his eyes, and squeezed, pushing the memories and thoughts of his dream into Dan.

Dan’s grip on Phil’s hands tightened as he witnessed everything that Phil was able to remember from his dream. There were snippets missing, details that were foggy, but the main gist of it was there. The murders were there.

Dan pulled his hands away.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

*-*-*-*-*

Dan went upstairs and packed a bag for Phil while Phil sat at the table and drank his tea. It was the morning of August 14th, and it was still dark out. Dan came back downstairs and loaded Phil into his car and drove all the way back to his house. Phil sat in the car and waited while Dan packed a bag for himself.

Dan popped the trunk and placed his own overnight bag in the back before climbing back into the front seat to start the long drive back down to Quantico.

Phil leaned against the passenger seat window staring ahead in the dark as Dan’s high beams lit up the road in front of them, illuminating trees, deer on the side of the road, the blades of grass wet with morning dew, and so much more. Phil focused on one thing for a second before the next thing caught his eye.

Dan stared straight ahead without saying a word. The radio was off and Phil didn’t have his earbuds in. There was nothing but the sound of the car and it’s engine and it’s tires as it ate up the miles, bringing them closer and closer to Virginia.

Do you want to talk about it? Phil asked.

I don’t know, Dan answered honestly.

Phil’s eyes flickered towards the corner of the dashboard, as far away from Dan as they could.

We have to talk about it at some point.

I know. But not right now. Not right now.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point he’d fallen asleep, because when he woke up the sun was just starting to peak over the skyline, and they were pulling off 95 towards a McDonalds.

McDonalds coffee is shit.

“I’m hungry.”

Phil didn’t reply.

“I hate when you do that,” Dan said again.

“Sorry,” Phil mumbled, quietly.

Dan spared a quick glance over at Phil. 

“It’s okay. If it feels better for you, you can do that.”

Thanks, Phil smiled.

Dan reached over and ruffled Phil’s hair. Phil closed his eyes in bliss, using every part of his mind to savor his touch.

“Do you want anything?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded.

Dan pulled up to the microphone menu.

“Hi, welcome to McDonalds, how may I help you today?”

“Hi, can I have a large coffee, and two egg McMuffins?”

Dan watched his order come up on the screen while Phil unbuckled his seatbelt next to him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

Phil climbed onto the middle consol as much as his long legs would allow him and shoved his head in front of Dan’s to speak out the window.

“Can I have a breakfast with hot cakes and a large coffee as well?”

Phil slid back into his seat while his order came up on the screen.

“Will that be all for you today?”

Dan glared at Phil as he spoke.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied cheerily while giving Phil a death glare.

“That’ll be twelve eighty-two at the next window.”

“Thanks!” Phil called before Dan could say anything else. Dan took his foot off the brake and slowly rolled around the corner.

“You’re paying,” he said pointedly.

“My wallets in the trunk,” Phil reminded him, but as he was speaking Dan reached into his back pocket and pulled out Phil’s wallet, removing his debit card and paying at the first window.

Phil shrugged and turned to admire the view of early morning crows dumpster diving in the McDonald’s dumpster outside the passenger-side window.

They didn’t have to wait long for their order to be ready this early in the morning, and soon it was back on the road.

Dan side-eyed Phil as Phil scarfed down his food quickly.

“I guess you were hungry too,” he smirked.

Phil shrugged as he chowed down on his eggs. He was watching the GPS slowly count down the miles until they arrived back in Virgina to start everything all over again. Phil couldn’t help but wonder how many times this was going to happen to him. What if this was the rest of his life?

He tried to push the dark thoughts away for the time being as he turned his attention out the window. It was still dark enough for Phil to spot some deer on the side of the road. He hoped they stayed there and didn’t try and cross the interstate. There was no reason for them to. There was nothing better on the other side.

“If you could have any wild animal for a pet, what would you pick?” he asked Dan, trying to distract them both.

Dan tilted his head to the side ever so slightly as he drove and thought.

“A tiger,” he growled.

“You really want to house and feed a tiger?”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe a raccoon. Or, ooh, a red panda. Yeah, I’ll take a red panda. They’re cute.”

“Do you even know what they eat?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, they eat like bamboo and stuff.”

Phil nodded.

“What about you?”

“Maybe a koala.”

“A koala?”

“Yeah. They sleep a lot and they hug you when you pick them up.”

“Don’t they smell weird?”

“I don’t know, do they?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never hugged a koala. Maybe I’m thinking of a sloth. You should get a sloth.”

“Like just go out in the wilderness and pick up a sloth and bring it home?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t survive a day out in the wilderness.”

“I don’t know, you survived being hunted by some secret agency of doctors with guns trying to kill us and stuff. I think you could survive the wilderness.”

“I would cut myself on a tree and get tetanus or something.”

Dan shook his head.

“You need to give yourself more credit. I think you’d be fine.”

Phil shrugged.

“Maybe when all of this is over we can go camping,” Dan suggested.

Phil shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.” To himself, he thought, if Dan was thinking about taking him camping, then he guessed the dream hadn’t scared Dan off from him forever. Not yet, at least.

“When do you think this is all going to be over?” Phil asked, circling back around to his earlier thoughts.

Dan pursed his lips. “I don’t know, Phil, but it won’t go on forever. We’ll catch whoever is doing this.”

“Do you think it’s the same person who did both?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head. “I don’t know, Phil. I don’t think it’s likely, but look at some of the serial killers we do know about out there. I mean take Israel Keys for example. Guy drove all around the United States killing people with his little premade killing kits in every state. Maybe whoever this is has a similar deal. It’s not totally out of the realm of possibility that the guy can hop state lines killing people, it’s just unlikely. And if it is one guy, then he’s gonna slip up sooner or later, they all do.”

“Isn’t there supposed to be like roughly a hundred or so active serial killers at one time? And I mean, like, they didn’t catch like Jack the Ripper or anything,” Phil argued.

“Jack the Ripper killed less than ten people, didn’t he? Same with The Zodiac. They stopped before they got caught. They weren’t too greedy. It was the ones who were too greedy that got caught. And this guy? If it is the same guy, he seems really greedy. He killed seven kids last month, and another four this month. He’s going big. The bigger you go, the more room there is to mess up and get caught.”

“Do you ever listen to, like, true crime podcasts or anything?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head. “No, I don’t have time to. And anyway, even if I did, I don’t know if I’d want the input of some crack armchair detectives spewing their own ideas about cases they know nothing about.”

“I think some of them just cover the facts, and a lot of them talk to people who were involved. If you got murdered, you wouldn’t want to end up on a true crime podcast?”

“Hell no. They can keep their noses out of my death. If someone didn’t care enough about you in life, why should they care about you in death?”

“You didn’t know Martyn when he was alive, but you care about him now that he’s dead,” Phil pointed out. 

Dan shook his head.

“That’s different. It was a professional relationship. I was the cop working his case.”

“And so this, this is a professional relationship, then?” Phil asked, hesitantly testing the waters.

Dan sighed. “No,” he admitted. “It’s a working friendship.” He left it at that.

Phil shrugged and searched for something else to talk about.

“So, if you could have any other wild animal as a pet, what would it be?”

Dan rolled his eyes. 

“Isn’t it time to put your headphones back in?” He suggested.

Phil smiled and did just that.

*-*-*-*-*

Lunch was McDonalds, again. Phil didn’t complain, he just gave Dan his order, pointedly staying in his own seat this time. They pulled back off onto 95, windows down and fast food wrappers flapping in tight grips while Dan kept one hand on the steering wheel and Phil kept one earbud in.

Phil watched as a car pushed past them doing near 80 with a little “Baby on Board!” sticker on the back windshield as he delicately held a french fry between two fingers. He harumphed and popped the fry in his mouth.

“If the murders took place over four days, then do you think that your dream was the first night they all died, or the last?” Dan asked, ignoring the car flying by.

“The last, I think. And don’t you want to wait until we talk to Jake?”

Dun shrugged his shoulders, hand holding his whooper. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just so…”

“Vivid?”

“Yeah. It’s stuck in my mind, even if the details are murky and hazy in some places.”

Phil nodded.

“I understand why you had trouble sleeping after this.”

“Thanks,” Phil replied, thinking about how in his dream they’d been sharing a room, sleeping together at a sleepover and then to stay safe against the dream demon, or the man with the knife hand, or whatever or whoever he was. He missed when Dan and him had shared hotel rooms or laid together on the same bed comfortably. Time and distance had changed the nature of their relationship, and Phil didn’t know where he stood with Dan anymore. Not that he ever did, really. And Phil knew his own attitudes about things wasn’t helping. He never sensed any kind of romantic feelings between Jake and Dan, but his mind couldn’t help but be jealous anyway: even if it wasn’t a romantic nature, Dan spoke about Jake in a way he never spoke about Phil. He spent a lot of time with Jake, and revered him. Phil felt like he’d not only taken a backseat, but faded into obscurity in the rearview mirror. And at the same time, he was embarrassed he felt this way to begin with. He was glad his psychic abilities didn’t go both ways; he wouldn’t want Dan seeing his thoughts and how he felt about him. But Phil could reach out and see how Dan was feeling, even if it wasn’t specifically about him.

Phil closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, finding Dan and latching onto him, and letting the feelings flood into him. They were a mirror of his own. Worry, confusion, repulsion at such a horrible dream… what were they going to find this time around? Phil already knew, and he wished he didn’t.

Phil rolled down his window with the crank handle and stuck his face out the window.

“It’s nice that it’s still warm down here,” he commented, letting the wind hit his face and push his worries to the back of his mind.

“Global warming,” Dan muttered.

Phil shrugged. “I know. But it’s nice.”

Dan didn’t rain on his parade any more.

*-*-*-*-*

They pulled into Quantico a little past 1:30 in the afternoon. Jake was waiting for them outside the same building Dan had pulled up to when they first arrived last time. His button down shirt had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his arms were crossed at the chest. As they got closer Phil realized just how disheveled he looked.

“Dan, Phil,” he greeted as he walked to meet them.

He turned towards Phil. “How are you feeling?” he asked, placing a hand on Phil’s arm.

“I’m alright, thanks,” Phil replied genuinely. He still wasn’t Jake’s biggest fan, but he’d been kind and useful to Phil, something that was hard for him to come across.

“Let’s get you both inside, and fill you up with more crappy coffee,” he joked.

Phil followed behind Dan, who followed behind Jake as he led them inside. 

“Have you found anything yet?” Dan asked the question that’d been in both of their minds they entire way down.

Joke glanced over his shoulder while shaking his head. “I’m afraid we haven’t. Are you sure it was New Jersey?”

“I’m sure,” Phil pipped up.

Jake shook his head again. “It doesn’t matter anyway, we haven’t heard squat.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Phil growled under his breath as they stopped outside the ground floor elevator doors. 

Dan put a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “We’ll find them, Phil.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Phil asked quietly, but not quietly enough, it seemed.

“Tell me what?” Jake asked, swiveling to face them while the elevator doors dinged and opened.

They piled inside.

“Part of Phil’s…” Dan hesitated, remembering what Phil had said about him not liking when Dan called them his “gifts” or “abilities”. “Phil can sometimes show people what he’s seen, and people can show him their thoughts too. So I asked, and Phil was able to show me the dream as best as he remembered it himself at the time.”

“So you’ve seen it to?” Jake asked.

“Yes, I have,” Dan confirmed. 

“Can you show me?” Jake asked, as if the words stumbled out of his mouth. Then he waved a hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Well, two minds are better than one, at least. It’ll be better that we’ll be able to consult both of you now.” Phil couldn’t help but feeling his role in all this had been diminished. Dan had been there to translate what Phil had seen to the FBI. Now, though, Dan has seen everything Phil had. Did they really need Phil anymore? Well, it wasn’t as if they were going to send him home.

“I’ll show you something else some other time,” Phil offered. Jake threw a quick smile and nod over his shoulder as he weaved down the maze of seemingly endless yet similar hallways before stopping at his office door to unlock it.

When he was able to push into the door, he beelined for his desk, taking his seat quickly and jiggling the mouse to his desktop computer while Dan and Phil shuffled in, pulling up chairs to the other side of Jake’s desk.

“I have contacts out with an ear to the ground if anything comes up, but so far I’ve only found a few homicides with two people or less, and quite a few suicides.”

He turned away from his screen to look between the two. Dan and Phil looked at each other.

“Well you’re the FBI agents. Shouldn’t we start taking a closer look at these homicides and suicides?”

“Phil’s right,” Dan agreed, turning back towards Jake. “And besides, it wasn’t all in one night this time.”

Jake leaned back, stroking his chin in thought. “Maybe we should start by you both telling me what exactly happened in Phil’s dream.”

Phil looked at Dan and Dan shrugged. Between the two of them, they started telling Jake everything about the dream. Dan left out the part where he and Phil were in love, though, much to Phil’s relief. He didn’t think he could handle the embarrassment.

“Diazepam?” Jake repeated, interrupting Dan as he was speaking.

“Yeah, in Phil’s dream, he suggested we take Diazepam to help us fall asleep before we could defeat the dream demon.”

Jake did some typing and clicking over on his keyboard and mouse before swiveling around the desktop computer screen to face Dan and Phil. This morning a headline had popped up that read “Double Teen Suicide Inspired by Romeo and Juliet.”

“Romeo and Juliet!” Phil exclaimed. “That was the book they were reading in English!”

“There’s a news clip here,” Jake turned the screen back a little on it’s lazy susan so both sides of the table could watch while he steered his mouse to hit the “play” button.

A woman in a blue shirt and a blue cardigan stood in front of a house. In the sloped driveway behind her, an ambulance could be seen while paramedics transferred two body bags into the back of vehicle.

“The town of Blairstown, New Jersey has been rocked yet again by a mysterious teen suicide. This marks the ninth overdose of the sleep suppressant drug Diazepam this month in the US by a teen. In this house, a pair of teens were found holding hands and laying in bed together with the pill bottle on the nightstand next to them in what is being described as inspired by the famous Shakespear play Romeo and Juliet, which the two were reading in class. Allison and Mason, the names of the two students found in this house, were close according to reports, growing up across the street from each other. Reports say that the death of their friends earlier this week may have influenced them to take their own lives.”

Jake looked over at Dan and Phil. Phil was shaking his head. “It wasn’t a suicide, though. Someone killed them.”

Jake looked at Dan hesitantly.

Dan sighed. “I know how it sounds, Jake. One killer teleports around a camp in the middle of the night killing kids? Well, it can be explained by more than one killer. But a dream demon that kills kids while they sleep?” He thought for a moment. “Maybe we’re taking this too literally. Maybe this is some kind of metaphor. I mean really, how many times do your dreams really happen like they do in real life?”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked, running a hand through his hair as he leaned on it. Phil figured that was partly to blame for him looking so frumpy.

“What if we’re not looking for a dream demon, but someone who just kills people in their sleep? I mean maybe he’s drugging them first with Diazepam and then slicing and dicing them.”

“The media was saying that the deaths were overdoses, though,” Phil pointed out.

Dan shook his head. “Listen, I’m not saying it is right, but I’ve seen a lot of cops do what they think is right, including covering up a serial killer to chalk it up to accidental death or suicide. I’m not saying it’s good or it’s right, but that it might be what’s happening here.”

“Well how do we know for sure?” Phil asked.

Dan looked at Jake.

“You want me to call and ask?” Jake asked, dumbfounded.

Dan shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. “We can’t claim jurisdiction if there’s no homicide,” he pointed out.

“You want me to call the town of Blairstown, New Jersey, and ask if they’re covering up a serial killing?” Jake reiterated.

“Jake, what choice do we have?” Dan pushed.

Jake shook his head. “Dan, I’m sorry, but we don’t have enough to go on.”

Dan’s face hardened and he leaned back in his chair.

“Fine. Phil and I will go by ourselves then.”

“Dan-”

“No. We’re right about this, Jake.”

Jake made a fist and slammed it on the table. “Dammit, Dan, I didn’t say I didn’t believe, you, I said we don’t have enough to go on.”

“So let Phil and I go!”

“This is the FBI, Dan, not some rinky-dink police force. You cannot just go rogue. There are protocols in place for a reason. Are you really willing to throw away your entire career over this?”

“Jake, children were murdered!”

“You don’t know that, Dan.”

Dan’s face hardened again. “Yes I do. I believe Phil.”

“So do I, Dan,” Jake repeated. He sighed and put his head in his hands. “Look. You’re not an official FBI agent. If you and Phil want to take a drive on your own personal time up to New Jersey, I can’t stop you, and I won’t stop you, but I can’t help you, either. Not in any official capacity. And I cannot help you unless I am invited by whoever is in charge of this case down there, of their own volition, which means admitting to covering up a series of homicides.”

Dan stood up from his chair. “We’ll get you your phone call. Just be ready for it.”

Jake sighed. “I will be, Dan. I will be.”

*-*-*-*-*

“Thanks for standing up for me in there,” Phil mumbled as they waited for the elevator.

“Yeah, well, I want to catch this sick son of a bitch,” Dan mentioned.

Phil shrugged. “It’s just nice to know you have my back, is all.”

The elevator doors dinged and Dan rushed in followed by Phil.

“Of course I have your back, Phil. I saw what you saw. I know you’re not lying.”

“How, though?” Phil asked.

“How what?” Dan asked, confused.

“How do you know I’m not lying?” The doors opened and Dan strode out, making his way deliberately towards where he’d parked the car. “How do you know that I didn’t just make it up?”

Dan shook his head. “Because you wouldn’t,” he argued. “You just wouldn’t.”

Dan unlocked the car and slid in. Phil followed suit on the passenger side.

“You’ve seen all your life what death and grief do to people. And you’ve experienced it yourself. You wouldn’t just make that up for clout. I don’t know why we were in these dreams, or why you’re having them, or why we were together in both of them, but it means something, and I want to get to the bottom of it. Don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Dan pulled out of the parking lot.

“How did you know we were together in the first one I had?” Phil asked.

“I knew there was something you were keeping from me about the first dream. When you showed me this one I figured that had to be it.”

“Are we going to talk about it?” Phil asked.

Dan glanced over and saw the pained look on Phil’s face.

“I’m sorry, but not right now, Phil. Solving this murder comes first. Not us.”

“You can’t put it off forever,” Phil muttered, looking away.

Dan grabbed Phil’s hand so Phil could sense he wasn’t lying.

“I’m not, Phil. I’m not. Just… not right now, okay? Not right now.”

*-*-*-*-*

Neither of them were looking forward to being in the car for an entire day again, but New Jersey was closer to Quantico than Massachussettes or even Connecticut was, even if it was only by two or four hours, so they pushed on through the exhaustion and kept driving. At some point Dan had let Phil take over driving, the first time in all their travels, but they were running on only a few hours of sleep and a lot of emotional exhaustion as well. They hardly spoke throughout the drive, one often sleeping in the passenger seat while the other sucked down a Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts or Mcdonald’s coffee trying to keep their eyes from fluttering shut. 

The dotted white lines were hypnotic and the traffic was slow, neither of which helped any in keeping them awake. Phil blasted heavy metal in his earbuds while he drove, but at this point he’d become desensitized to it, and figured it was just a functional as a lullaby. He turned it up, however, past what was probably safe for his hearing, and kept on driving and driving, knowing that it couldn’t last forever. In fact, the GPS on Dan’s phone, propped up in it’s little holder on the dashboard informed him just how much longer they had. Phil watched the time count down minute by minute as he flicked his eyes back and forth from the road in front of them to the phone screen to the rear and side view mirrors then back to the road in front of him again. He made mental notes of the cars he saw frequently, who were traveling companions of theirs and yet they’d never met, off on their own adventures… ones happier and better than theirs, he hoped.

It was with relief that they finally crossed over the Delaware-New Jersey state line, joining up with their fellow cars on the New Jersey Turnpike. Dan was back in the driver’s seat and Phil had his earbuds in once more, leaning against the window as he gazed out of it. 

Neither said anything as they crossed the state line. There was still another 45 minutes to go, but it was better than an hour, or two, or three… 

Before either of them knew it, they were pulling off 95 and weaving their way through smaller highways, and then finally through country backroads, over scenic hills and rolling farm lands and idealistic quintessential New England towns, until finally they rolled past a sign for Blairestown, New Jersey, a town that up until today they’d never heard about. It was dark by now, and they’d have to find a place to stay, but for now they found a parking space outside a local hardware store and climbed out of the car to stretch their sore and aching bodies.

“So this is it,” Phil muttered, looking around at the town bathed by streetlamps.

“This is it,” Dan repeated in agreement.

“Not much to it, is there?”

“Never seems to be.”

Phil couldn’t argue with that.

Dan locked the car and they took a walk down the town’s main street’s sidewalk. 

“What do you think?” Dan asked after a few minutes.

“I think there’s more to the story,” Phil replied.

“I think so too. Should we head back and get some sleep and figure out the rest tomorrow?”

“I suppose. And we should probably get our story straight,” Phil mentioned.

“Or gay,” Dan couldn’t help but joke, trying to throw in a smile.

Phil smiled back. “You’re right. Queer it up in here.”

They made their way back to the car and Phil pulled up places to stay the night near the town.

They ended up driving about twenty minutes back out of town where they pulled into a chain motel and booked a room for the night. 

Dan took a hot shower, and when he exited the bathroom, Phil was already on his bed near the room’s windows, curled up, and facing away from Dan.

Dan grabbed his phone off the motel room desk and plopped on his own bed, opening his screen and looking through his social media, half expecting Phil to roll over and start a conversation with him- but he didn’t.

Dan could feel Phil’s mind racing, turning everything between them over and over again. It didn’t seem like that healthy of a distraction from the murders, but Dan supposed anything was better than thinking about dead children and the way their bodies had been slashed, leaving flaps and folds of flesh flopping, dripping with blood…

Dan shuddered. He needed a distraction too.

The air between them was tense, and Dan could feel a sort of emotional pain radiating off of Phil. He found that if he focused too much on that as well, he started to feel it too. Was Phil always feeling like this? Maybe that’s why he constantly had earbuds in, trying to drown out the feelings with anything… as far as Dan knew, Phil didn’t drink or smoke or take anything except some anxiety and depression medication. Maybe focusing on his own pain stopped him from feeling all the pain of those around him. Was that really any better, though?

Dan wanted to talk about things, to work them out, he really did, but he couldn’t let himself open that box right now. He needed to focus on the case. He couldn’t let himself feel… well, feel like Phil felt. Phil was good at compartmentalizing his pain, but it was like he reached down inside himself when he could and took it out, holding it, observing it, ruminating over it… it was almost an indulgence. Maybe that’s why he didn’t need any drugs. It was like he was addicted to his own pain. Dan would never say that, though, at least not out loud… there’d been a time between them, just a little, when Phil’d been able to put the pain of his brother’s death behind him, and where he’d been able to smile, to laugh… ever since Dan got back from Quantico, though, things had changed. Or maybe they’d changed before that, and he just hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t let himself notice.

Dan was a loner at heart. Relationships just made things more complicated. All types of relationships. Even his relationship with Jake was a potential burdon: sure, they knew each other well and were comfortable in each other’s presence, and that had it’s merits, it’s benefits, but if anything were to happen could Dan trust himself to make the right call? A call that needed to be made, for better or for worse? Maybe when he was out of the field, retired, or some old sod of a police chief in a sleepy New England town, he could relax a little… though, from where they were sitting now, it didn’t seem like that was the best case scenario either. He really didn’t want to believe that a department would cover up a serial killer, but he knew that a lot of police forces did a lot of things that weren’t right, even if they felt like they were… that’s why Dan couldn’t let emotions get in the way. That’s why he had to box it all up. He’d open that box soon, as soon as this case was solved, but he couldn’t, not now. 

Dan was pulled from his thoughts by Phil rolling over in his bed to face Dan, but still Phil didn’t say anything. Dan left him to his own musings. 

Finally Dan shut his phone off and placed it on the bedside table. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow, and he needed to get a good night’s sleep in order to be the best cop he could. To be the cop that those kids needed. If not in life, then at least in death.

*-*-*-*-*

When Dan woke up Phil wasn’t in the room. He was surprised; Phil was almost never up before him.

Dan grabbed a change of clothes for the day from his bag and carried them into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. While he was in there he heard Phil come back into the room.

Dan opened the bathroom door and took a few trepid steps out to see what Phil was up to.

Phil had a plate with a blueberry bagel piled with cream cheese on it that was already partially eaten.

“None for me?” Dan joked, testing the waters.

Phil glanced up but didn’t say anything.

The waters were icy cold.

Dan wanted to complain about how these days he never could predict what mood Phil would be in, though he remembered what he was like when they were on the road hunting down Martyn’s killers, and he figured he didn’t really have room to criticize. It’d be nice if they could go back to having a relationship outside of all the murder and mayhem they seemed to run into together. Or maybe this was just how it was meant to be between them.

Dan left the room without saying anything else to go get himself something to eat. There were a few muffins left to choose from, along with a few other options, so he grabbed one and placed it on a plate. He scoped out the containers of pre-packaged single-serve cereal containers and grabbed an Apple Jacks, peeling the wrapper off and filling it with milk from the container in the mini fridge. Dan snagged a plastic spoon from the utensil area and brought everything back to their room.

Phil was in the motel room’s shower. Dan could hear the water running from where he sat at the desk eating his Apple Jacks as he scrolled on his phone. He’d been trying to rack his brain for an idea for a reason why they should be allowed to see the bodies, why they were there at all, anything… but his mind was drawing a blank. Seemed like they always had the perfect story in shows like Supernatural. Show up saying you’re the FBI. “Well no one called the FBI” but there they were. Only Dan really was FBI. And if they did call, it would be an issue. Dan huffed. Everything was better in Hollywood.

Dan heard the water in the bathroom stop just as he was fishing for the last pieces of his cereal in the tiny plastic bowl.

He was just sipping up the last of his milk when Phil emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, wet hair hanging down above his bright blue eyes.

Dan spit up on the milk in his mouth and looked away.

“Oh, god, Dan, I’m- I forgot a shirt, and I knew you were down getting breakfast. I guess I thought I had more time.”

Phil’s eyes shifted between Dan and Phil’s open overnight bag on his bed- all the way on the other side of the room as the temperature in Dan’s face continued to rise. 

“Do you need me to…” Dan gestured at the bag on Phil’s bed, keeping his eyes pointed directly towards the floor so he could only make out the vague shape of Phil and any movements in his peripheral.

“Uh, yeah, sure, maybe that would be best. Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s fine,” Dan waved a hand, trying to brush away Phil’s concern. 

He set down his little plastic cup of cereal and pushed his chair out from the desk to stand up and walk over to Phil’s bed.

Dan grabbed a shirt from the bag, balled it up, and tossed it. It started to fall flat, so on instinct, Phil leaned over Dan’s bed to try and catch it, the towel haphazardly slipping from around his waist. Phil ended up being pulled in two directions as he tried to grab both the shirt and keep the towel around himself.

“Jesus Christ,” Dan muttered, turning to look out the window. “Fix yourself and then get back in the fucking bathroom.

He heard Phil sigh quietly and shuffle back into the bathroom.

*-*-*-*-*

“What if we said we had heard a local rumor about a string of murders-”

“No, because we don’t want them to know that we know it’s murder,” Dan reminded him.

Phil let out a dramatic sigh and flopped backwards on the bed.

Phil had been sitting on Dan’s bed with his long legs draped over the edge while Dan sat backwards in the desk chair, arms crossed over the back of the chair. They’d been talking around in circles for almost half an hour at this point, trying to come up with a reasonable cover story, but it seemed like no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t come up with anything.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Phil suggested, sitting back up.

Dan nodded.

“Where did we hear about the murders?”

“The suicides,” Dan reminded him.

“Where did we hear about the suicides?” Phil corrected.

“On the news.”

“And why did we watch the news?”

Dan paused.

“Because Big Brother is always watching,” Phil continued on.

“We can’t use that,” Dan patronized.

“Why not? It’s true isn’t it?”

“No,” Dan argued.

“Did we not scope out the news to find this story?”

“Yes.”

“Are we not the FBI?”

“We are…”

“Then we scoped out the news because we were looking for strange deaths that we think may be connected to an active case the FBI is working.”

“Right.”

“The team working on this mysterious homicide down in Texas flagged the news report as suspicious.”

“Okaaaay-”

“And now we’re here to check it out as representatives of that team.”

“Fine.”

Phil smirked. “Next. What do we need to claim jurisdiction?”

“Jake said that we needed to be invited.”

“But not if it’s suspected to be related to another homicide in a different state, right? That would give us jurisdiction.”

“Yes, but we need evidence to link it to that homicide. Your prophetic dreams are not evidence.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When do we need evidence by?”

Dan shook his head. “Are you seriously suggesting we look for evidence to fit the crime?”

Phil shrugged.

“No. That doesn’t make us any better than them.”

Phil rolled his eyes, exacerbated. “What choice do we have? Of course we’re better than them! We’re actually trying to find out who did this to them!”

“So you want me to tell the FBI we have evidence that links these two cases and then find that evidence later?”

“Yes.”

Dan sat for a moment chewing his lips.

“Fine. Then we still need them to declare murder. Or we need someone from the FBI to come down on reasonable evidence to take a look at the case to declare murder.”

“We don’t have the evidence yet to bring down someone from the FBI yet, though.”

“Meaning they have to admit murder first so that we have a justifiable reason to claim why we looked for evidence in something that was declared a suicide.”

“Maybe we can just see how it goes while we’re there,” Phil suggested.

“You want to hinge this whole plan on hoping we can convince the officer in charge to change the rulings to murder?”

“It’s what we got. It hasn’t failed us so far.”

Dan rolled his eyes. 

“Actually it nearly got us killed last time.”

“Good thing I can deflect bullets with my mind,” Phil smiled toothily.

“Jesus Christ.”

*-*-*-*-*

Dan pulled into a parking space on the side of the road across the street from the police station.

“You better hope this works,” he muttered towards Phil as he ejected himself from the driver’s seat.

The police department was small, smaller even than the one Dan had worked at. 

The front desk was devoid of a receptionist, leaving only a bell on the desk. Phil reached over and pressed the button down gently, giving it a little ring.

The chief of police himself wandered in from the room behind the desk.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Detective Howell and this is my associate, Mr. Lester. We’re with the FBI,vrepresenting a team looking into suspicious deaths across the country, and some of our detectives flagged the recent string of suicides as suspicious, and sent us down here to take a look.”

“What kind of suspicious deaths?” The police chief asked.

“We’re looking at a murder case-”

“Well these were suicides.”

“Right,” Dan agreed, tersely. “But see we have reason to believe-”

The police chief started to turn around.

“Wait!” Phil called.

The man turned back around to face him.

Phil held his hands out by his sides, fingers splayed apart ever so slightly. He looked at the man directly in the eyes, and gathered his strength inside him, and then… pushed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have the coroner look at the bodies again?” Phil asked.

The man huffed and snorted in laughter, but he didn’t move.

Phil reached down within himself, pulling reserves he didn’t even know he had, reaching, reaching as if into his very life force itself, pushing himself harder than he ever had.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have the coroner look at the bodies again?” Phil repeated.

The police chief looked at Phil and Phil felt himself within the man’s mind. Phil pushed his will onto the man as hard as he could.

The police chief stared at Phil and Phil stared back. 

Dan looked around, half expecting the lights to flicker or Phil’s nose to start bleeding.

But slowly, the police chief said

“Maybe I will, yeah.”

And he turned around and started going back the way he came.

Phil let go of all the energy he’d been holding and stumbled, caught by Dan.

“See, I told you. You’re like fucking Eleven.”

Phil smiled tiredly.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil was too weak to follow the p0lice chief into the back of the building and down the stairs to the mortuary, so Dan went alone.

When they got there, the coroner was sitting at his desk reading a stack of papers.

“Dr. Cadwell, this man’s from the FBI. He says that these deaths might be related to some murders they’re looking into.”

The coroner glanced from the police chief to Dan slowly.

“Well, you told me to classify these as suicides,” the corner reminded him, speaking slowly and deliberately. Dan got the impression the coroner was against the idea.

“Well, why don’t you take another look,” the police chief suggested, nodding.

The corner looked past the police chief directly at Dan.

“Do you need me to sign these off as murders so you can take the case.”

“Well…” Dan scratched the top of his head.

The coroner dropped the paper he was reading.

“Done. Just give me the paperwork to sign.”

*-*-*-*-*

“Good news, we got the officer to change the ruling to murder, and enough evidence to warrant sending down an official FBI team to look into the possible connection with the homicides at Camp Crystal Lake in Texas.”

Dan was on the phone outside the police department.

“That’s great! What’s the evidence?”

Dan didn’t speak

“What’s the evidence?” Jake repeated cheerily.

He was met with more silence.

“Seriously? What am I supposed to tell them?”

“Jake, we’ll find something, I promise-” 

“It’s not eno-”

“Jake please.”

This time it was Dan that was met with silence.

“Fine. But you better deliver.”

*-*-*-*-*

Dan walked back into the police station and sat next to Phil in one of the chairs in the waiting area.

“I’ll find something, I promise,” Phil mumbled, clearly exhausted.

“I know you will, just be careful, okay?”

Phil nodded tiredly.

Dan stood up again and held out a hand to Phil, who took it. Dan pulled him up and Phil wabbled on his feet before steading himself.

“Do you need to sit for a little while longer?” Dan asked.

“No,” Phil replied, against his better judgment. “Maybe there’s a stool downstairs,” he smiled woozily.

Dan guided Phil down the stairs with one of his arms around Dan’s broad shoulders. It worked out well that Phil was just a tad bit taller than Dan: he was able to lean into Dan as they made their way down the staircase bathed in a horrid sickly green artificial light. The light hummed and flickered at they made their way down. Dan glanced at Phil.

“Cool as it would be, that’s not me,” he smiled half-heartedly.

Dan nodded back, and they continued down the stairs.

He left Phil leaning up against the stairway wall as he pushed and held open the door.

The coroner was still sitting at his desk reading his paperwork.

“I suppose you want a look at these bodies, then?” he called in a monotone voice, eyes still scanning the typed text.

“That’d be great, thanks. And some gloves.”

At that, the coroner looked up.

“Hands-on kind of agents, yeah? Don’t get a lot of those. Not that we get a lot of agents ‘round here to begin with.”

He placed the papers down on his desk and pushed his chair back to stand up.

“Must make the job boring,” Phil suggested.

“Makes the job easier,” the coroner corrected.

He didn’t bother to introduce himself as he handed both of them a pair of gloves.

“What can you tell us about the bodies?” Dan asked.

“Well,” the coroner eyed each of them, “they’re a real mess.”

The coroner opened a row of four body storage chamber along the wall, pulling out each exam table and revealing the four dead kids. Three boys and one girl.

Each body was covered in long slashes that looked like they’d been made by some sort of machinery.

“Do you have any idea what could have made these marks?” Dan asked.

The corner beckoned them over to the first body- the body of Chris. The teen had slashes all across his chest and neck, as well as his arms. Dr. Cadwell gestured to the mosaic of marks across the boy’s chest.

“If you look, a lot of the marks seem to have been made in groupings- I’m not sure if you can tell, but it looks like four or five slashes at once here. Not only that, but the slashes look like they were made by something that was able to bend- so, not like the tongs of a pitch-fork, for example, but something that had a hinge joint. The weapon was small enough to be easily wielded, as you can tell by the different directions the marks made. I know this sounds almost Hollywoodish, but it almost looks like how the average person would expect a body mauled by a bear to look like.”

Dan and Phil exchanged glances.

Dr. Cadwell turned his attention towards Dan. 

“You said you thought these deaths might be related to another case you guys were looking into. Are these marks the same as the ones that were made on the other victims?”

Phil looked at Dan too, wondering how he’d answer.

“No,” Dan answered truthfully. “We have other evidence that links these cases. We don’t believe the same weapon was used.”

“And I’m assuming that link is classified?” Dr. Cadwell asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Do you have information about what kind of weapon you think might have done this?” Dr. Cadwell asked.

Phil looked to Dan again, following his lead.

“We do, actually,” Dan said.

“And are you at liberty to share that?” Dr. Cadwell asked.

“What makes you think these are homicides?” Dan countered first.

“Well, they didn’t take place at the same time, so it wasn’t a freak accident. I understand that drugs were found in the system of the last two victims there, and there’s a very good and real possibility they took them together, but to have such precise wounds that were made over and over again be self-inflicted is just highly unlikely. I’m not saying it was a homicide, but it certainly wasn’t suicide, in my opinion.”

Dan chewed on his lip as he nodded, mulling over the words that Dr. Cadwell was saying.

“We think the weapon was a home-made tool,” Dan offered.

“Okay…” Dr. Cadwell trailed off. When it didn’t seem like Dan was going to offer up more information voluntarily, he followed up with “And do you have a guess as to what exactly that tool is?”

“Well…” this time it was Dan that trailed off, feeling like he would sound ridiculous. He remembered what Dr. Cadwell had said though, about how the marks on the bodies looked like a Hollywood bear attack, and figured maybe the coroner wouldn’t think they were so crazy after all. Plus, they were the FBI, he reminded himself. Their reputation preceded them- or at least, he hoped it did. 

“Basically, we think the killer-”

“‘Killer’, singular?” Dr. Cadwell checked.

“Yes, ‘killer’, singular,” Dan confirmed. “We think the killer, singular made a sort of… glove… with long blades on the end, almost like claws.”

“So a glove that the killer wore with home-made claws on the end?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Dr. Cadwell stood in silence, gazing down at the bodies again with this new information.

“I suppose that makes sense. And are you sure that’s what it was?”

Dan shot a quick glance over at Phil. 

“We’re pretty sure. We’re staking our case on it as of right now.”

Dr. Cadwell nodded. “Gotchya. Well, yeah, I mean, that lines up. That would make sense why sometimes there are four slices and sometimes there are five. The thumb would make the anomaly. I still have a lot of questions, though, if that is the case.”

“Like what?” Phil asked.

Dr. Cadwell glanced at him almost startled, as if he hadn’t expected Phil to be speaking at all.

“Well, for example, if what you say is true, and an unnamed killer broke into the house of our last two victims here, for example, then why were they found lying otherwise untouched in the bed? I understand they were drugged, and that they have defensive wounds, but did they just get slashed to pieces, and the killer left, so they decided to just continue to lay down and hold hands while dying? I mean, from the crime scene photos, it doesn’t look like there was any attempt made by either of them to stop their bleeding, get help, anything. And not only that, but there was at least one parent in the home as far as I’m aware during the time of this supposed murder. How was this committed with no one seeing or hearing anything?”

“There are examples of cases where other people in the homes were unaware of a murder being taken place in another part of the house,” Dan offered up.

“Right, and how many of these people end up in prison afterwards on murder charges?”

Dan didn’t respond.

“We have some theories as to how it could have went down,” Phil offered up.

The coroner looked at him skeptically.

“What are you, some kind of X-Files division?”

Dan chuckled. “I’m sure we’ve been called that before.”

“Actually,” Phil explained, “we think the killer has some sort of supernatural powers that allows him to attack people in their sleep, and that’s why the kids drugged themselves with Diazepam: to go after him.”

The corner scoffed a little and raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Didn’t know feds had a sense of humor.”

“Do we look like your regular feds?” Phil asked with a small smirk.

“You’re right, you’re right,” the coroner threw his hands up in defeat.

“Well, you seem to know what you’re looking for, so how about you take a look, and I’ll assist in any way I can.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

He moved out of the way to allow Dan and Phil access to Chris’s body.

“Did you know any of these kids?” Phil asked while Dan peered up and down Chris’s body with his hands tucked carefully behind his back.

“Not personally. Recognize them from around town. Maybe knew names and parents. Probably didn’t speak to them more than a ‘hello’ or an ‘excuse me’.”

Dan gave Phil a look like he was asking him if Phil was going to take a look at the bodies or not. Phil moved to trade places with Dan. He didn’t really know what exactly he was looking for, so he figured he would start from the head down. As much as he’d met dead people, he’d never actually touched a dead body, or been in such close proximity to one.

Phil pushed past all his natural instincts in order to start ruffling through Chris’s hair while Dan asked more questions about the town and the area and the victims. Phil had forgotten they didn’t actually know the last two victim’s names.

“Yeah, Tony and Maria. Grew up across the street from each other as soon as her family moved from Puerto Rico, or so I’m told. We have a population of Puerto Rican folks that live around here. Everything else is pretty white though. And she was the only victim of color, so I doubt it was a racial crime. You don’t have any motive, do you? Sick fucks like this don’t usually have a motive outside of wanting to kill kids. Were your other victims all kids too?”

“Yeah, they were,” Dan asked.

“And what case did you say you were linking it to?”

“I didn’t,” Dan smiled coyly.

Phil moved down to Chris’s face. He peeled the eyelids back and looked into the soulless eyes, and then opened the mouth. He felt awful about it, and really hoped he wouldn’t have to speak to any of these kids later on after pawing at their corpses, but he knew it was the smart thing to do. At least none of them were here, now.

Phil moved down towards Chris’s chest, trying his best to remove the emotions that came flooding when he looked at the ragged and torn skin. The blood had all been drained and washed off the body, since in declaring it a suicide there was no need to preserve evidence. Phil brushed his fingered gloves lightly over the deep grooves.

“Tragic, isn’t it? And they wanted me to call it a suicide.”

Phil looked up at him.

“So why did you?”

Dr. Cadwell shrugged. “They pay my salary. I gave them my educated opinion, but at the end of the day it’s the cops who decide whether to investigate further. Not little ole me.”

Phil didn’t like that answer, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his attention back down the the pale, lifeless body in front of him. Phil shuffled a few steps over and brought himself to the cadaver’s waist.

Doubting he would find anything of use in the groin region, Phil delicately skipped over the area and moved towards the body’s legs. Still, there was nothing of significance. Not even once Phil reached the soles of the feet with a white tag wrapped daintily around the child’s big toe did Phil find anything.

“Can you roll him over for me?” Phil asked, glancing at the doctor in one last bid.

“I suppose.”

Phil moved out of the way as the doctor ungracefully pulled the body over and rolled it to the other side on the thin metal slab.

Phil went through the hair on the scalp again, this time on the back of the head. Still nothing.

Phil ran his fingers down the back of the boys neck. There was a mark. He could have sworn it wasn’t there before.

Phil hesitated.

“Can I see your notes?” Phil asked, trying his best to sound casual.

“Why? Did you find something?”

Phil cursed in his mind.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

Phil reluctantly moved his fingers away as the doctor moved to look down at the body.

“What the hell? That wasn’t there before. I’m sure of it.”

While the doctor was busy squinting down at Chris’s neck Phil shot Dan a concerned look.

When the doctor stepped away Dan moved in to look down at it.

On the back of the boys neck were two small letters: I and X. Together, they made the roman numeral nine.

The doctor looked between them.

“That wasn’t there before. I’m sure of it,” he repeated, firmer this time.

Dan’s eyes scanned the body as rapidly as he sorted through his thoughts.

“I’d like my associate to check the other bodies, if you would.”

The doctor furrowed his brown at Dan while Phil went to the next body, the body of PJ. Trying to quell his stomach, he gently moved PJ’s head to the side so the back of his neck was exposed. There was nothing.

Hands shaking, Phil reached out again, gently brushing the back of the body’s neck. When he pulled his hand away, there again was the same mark.

Quickly Phil moved to the bodies of Maria and Tony under the pretense of checking them and revealed the mark on each of them.

“This has to be a joke. You’re planting some kind of evidence.” The doctor accused.

“Are you suggesting we somehow gave the bodies cuts?” Dan asked. He glanced down at the cadavers. “They don’t look fresh.”

The doctor glanced down at the marks on each of the bodies again.

“If you had t0 guess, when do you think those marks were made?”

The doctor pursed his lips. “Shortly after death,” he replied.

“So then how could we have just put them there?” Dan argued.

The doctor didn’t answer.

“This is the link we were looking for,” he said to Phil in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I agree,” Phil nodded, trying his best not to look as turmoiled as he felt. He was just a professional doing his job. Nothing more and nothing less.

“If you’ll excuse us, we have a phone call to make.”

Dan turned before the doctor could protest more.

Together, he and Phil climbed the stairs and walked out of the police station.

“Did you put those there?” Dan asked Phil, looking him directly in the eye once they were out of earshot.

“I don’t know.” Phil’s voice quivered.

Dan started pacing back and forth.

“Dan, I’m scared,” Phil admitted.

Dan looked at him.

“Why?”

“Dan, what if I’m the one doing this?” Phil suggested again.

Dan stomped over to Phil and clapped a hand on Phil’s shoulder.

“You’re not doing this, Phil. We saw someone do this. It wasn’t you.”

A tear slipped out of Phil’s eye and he hurriedly wiped it away.

“Look, just, wait in the car, okay? Wait in the car.”

More tears started to slip out of Phil’s diamond-blue eyes. He’s scared of me, he thought to himself.

“I’m NOT scared of you,” Dan snapped. “Just wait in the car while I figure this out!”

Phil dropped his head and stomped over to the passenger side of Dan’s car. He glanced at the tab on the inside of the car door and yanked it up, grabbing at the car handle and pulling. He threw himself inside and slammed the door shut without touching a thing.

It was there that he finally let himself drop his head into his sleeves and let out a quick muffled crying.

After a few second of loud and heavy breathing Phil lifted his head from his sleeved hands, pulled himself together, and stared out the windshield at Dan pacing on the phone.

Phil’s eyes shifted to the passenger door and he grabbed the window handle, slowly turning the knob, watching out the windshield to make sure Dan didn’t notice.

“Yeah, we found a link. No, I can’t tell you what it is. No, I don’t know what it means. Look, Phil’s freaking out, he thinks that he did this…” Dan trailed off. “He didn’t,” he practically growled into the phone, visibly upset. Phil watched him as he continued to pace up and down the sidewalk, tears slowly continuing to fall from his face.

“Tough luck, huh?”

Phil jumped, glancing up from the windshield to the rearview mirror. In the glass’s reflection, he could see two teens sitting in the back of the car. A girl with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a boy with slicked back hair. He recognized them immediately.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

The girl turned her head to look out the window while the boy looked past Phil out the windshield.

“Tough luck, huh?” he asked, repeating what the girl had said. “Guess it’s going around.”

The girl turned her attention back to Phil.

“They think we killed ourselves,” Maria said, getting straight to the point.

Phil shook his head. “No, no they don’t. I changed his mind. I told him you didn’t.”

“Is that what happened?” Tony asked.

Phil nodded but try as he might, he couldn’t say anything.

“‘The Romeo and Juliet Suicides’. Poetic, isn’t it?” Maria smirked.

“They’ll never know what happened.” Tony sounded far away as he continued to stare out the window.

“No, I’ll tell them what happened,” Phil argued.

“You don’t even know what’s happening up there,” Maria countered, throwing a nod at Phil.

“I didn’t do this,” he said.

She looked at him up and down.

“How should we know? The man had a mask.”

Phil blinked in surprise.

“A mask?”

“Yeah, a mask. Some creepy burn-faced mask. And a mark.” Maria turned her head to look out the window again.

“A mark?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of a mark?”

“Some letters,” she said, watching as someone passed by Dan on the phone walking down the sidewalk.

“What letters?”

Plink.

Phil looked around the dark boiler room. Steam was pouring out of the pipes that lined the metal walkway Phil’s bare feet carried him across. Sweat was pouring down Phil’s forehead. His hair was clumped in damp strands and plastered to the back of his neck. He used his forearm to swipe his face. 

Phil heard a clang behind the roaring whoosh of steam in his ears. He whirled around but didn’t see anything. When he whirled back he saw a shadow dance across the wall in front of him.

Plink.

Phil took another tentative step, then another. His grey nightshirt was darkened with sweat and the pantlegs on his plaid pajama pants swirled around his ankles with every step.

Plink.

Phil heard another rustle like someone was moving just beyond his vision.

“Whose there?” he tried to call out, but naught but a hoarse whisper came out.

Phil sucked in a gulp of humid air.

“Whose there?” he called out again, louder this time.

“Phiiiil-”

Phil glanced around in all directions, trying to locate the source of the voice.

“Who are you?” Phil called, more desperately this time.

“Phiiiil!” The voice was louder this time as well.

The drops of water continued to plink-plink-plink in the background.

A deep laughter started, and it echoed in Phil’s ears so unnaturally.

Suddenly the silhouette of a man in a fedora with a hand with fingers like knives appeared before him.

“Phil.”

Phil turned and ran in the direction he’d come from, throwing frantic glances over his shoulders. He puffed air in and out of his lungs as he ran.

After the third glance he looked back the way he was running and saw the man standing in front of him again.

With a yelp Phil darted down the path to his left, but to his horror, it was a dead end.

Phil spun around and slowly backed up.

The man followed him down the short hallway slowly, dragging the finger-knives against the wall menacingly as he went. They made a sickening shrieking sound.

Phil felt his back bump against the wall behind him. He knew there was no escape.

The man continued to approach Phil. As he got closer, Phil was able to make out the sordid details of the man.

His face was burned underneath the wide brim of his fedora. His green and red stripped sweater was tattered and torn. His hand was encased in a glove that had sharp blades protruding from each finger. The closer he got the worse he smelled, until he was right on top of Phil, breathing with his horrid breath.

“It’s time to wake up!”

The man sliced his hand across Phil’s chest as he screamed.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil jolted awake in his bed, covered in sweat, and breathing heavy.

The door to his room opened.

“Honey, are you alright?”

Phil managed a tight smile.

“I’m fine, thanks!”

His mom smiled back and closed the door.

With a sigh of relief Phil flipped the blanket off his upper half and looked down.

His shirt had four large tears in it.

*-*-*-*-*

“Man, that’s an awful dream,” Chris said when Phil finished telling him about it.

They were walking to school together that morning. It was a Monday, and school had only been in session for three weeks, but already they were ready for fall break.

“I had an awful dream last night too! You aren’t special!” a voice from behind chimed in.

They turned to look over their shoulders.

“Oh yeah? And what does a nightmare look like to you? A Tim Burton movie?”

PJ chuckled as he got closer, slinging an arm around both their shoulders.

“Something like that. Hey, where’s Dan? We’re missing the broodiest quarter of the squad here!”

Phil rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.

“I’m sure he’s having an existential crisis about what black band shirt to wear,” Phil smirked while shooting him a text. Phil slipped his phone back into his jeans pocket as they turned the corner on the sidewalk to head up the front stairs to their school.

Phil reached into his sweatshirt pocket and rubbed his earbuds. He didn’t want to admit it, but the nightmare had really freaked him out, and this morning his mom had mentioned she was heading out with her boyfriend, leaving Phil to be in the house alone. 

“Hey, do you guys wanna come over after school and film a video.”

PJ frowned.

“Well, I haven’t written a script for anything.”

Phil waved a hand in the air. 

“That’s fine, we’ll make in an impromptu video. ‘Reading Viewer Comments’ or something like that. My mom and her boyfriend are going to be out of town for the evening, so it’s a good opportunity to get some filming in now that school’s back in session.”

“That’s a good point,” Chris agreed. “Sure, why not? I’m in.”

“Count me in as well!”

Phil slipped his phone back out of his pocket and checked it. No new messages.

“Great, well, hopefully Dan can join, and then we’ll be all set.”

*-*-*-*-*

 “Coming in late. Sorry.”

Phil looked down at his phone and smiled to himself, rolling his eyes. Dan could be overdramatic and depressive, but he was still Phil’s best friend or whatever, and it wouldn’t be The Fantastic Foursome without him.

They were aware that the name “The Fantastic Foursome” made them sound like an orgy group, but they had rolled with it as the name for their YouTube channel. PJ brought the creativity, Chris brought the enthusiasm, Phil brought the positivity, and Dan brought the sarcastic comedic relief. They had all grown up together in school as best friends, living in the same neighborhood. In fact, Dan and Phil had grown up right across the street from each other. Ever since entering high school, though, things had felt different. Phil had never really put stock in that whole notion of “everything changes once you enter high school,” but somehow it was like everyone around him was suddenly planning for their future and what they were doing after high school, getting romantic partners, joining sports or school clubs to look good on college applications, focusing on school work more, and Phil and the rest of the Fantastic Four felt like they were being left in the dust. Even Phil’s family had started asking if Phil was going to get a girlfriend now that he was in high school, and what schools he was thinking of applying to, and for what degree program, but all Phil wanted to do was make videos with his best friends.

Even things between him and Dan had started to feel different. Phil hadn’t been able to put his finger on exactly what it was, but Dan had been… moodier, if that was even possible. No, it wasn’t that Dan was moodier. It’s that he was more distant with Phil. It was almost as if he was hiding something, and every conversation they had was a reminder of that. Like something had grown up between them, and now Phil couldn’t see Dan as clearly as he’d always been able to. But no matter, he figured. Things would fix themselves in time, and tonight they could hang out, just the four of them, and all sleep over, just like they had over the summer. School couldn’t put a damper on their spirits and creative energy- at least not yet.

Phil was staring down at his Shakespear book lost in his thoughts when he saw Dan walk through the door. Dan’s hair had been straightened and his My Chemical Romance shirt was rumpled. He more flopped than sat down next to Phil, muttering a quick “hey”, under his breath without so much as a glance in Phil’s direction.

He leaned over his backpack and pulled out his own dog-eared copy of Romeo and Juliet.

Chris and PJ turned around from their seats in front of them.

“Do you think you will kill yourself if the guy you loved died? I mean geez, she was only thirteen. The world doesn’t end at thirteen.”

“You’re right, sixteen is much more depressing,” Dan chimed in. 

Phil shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it would be nice to love someone so completely and wholly that you feel like you can’t live without them.”

Phil saw Dan sneak a glance at him from the corner of his eye.

PJ shook his head. “Nah man, this is just unhealthy obsession. Besides, what’s a senior doing with a freshman? I mean, would you date a freshman?”

“No way,” Chris agreed.

The two of them turned back around in their seats.

Phil glanced back over at Dan.

“Everything alright, Dan?” he asked, quiet enough that Chris and PJ wouldn’t hear.

“Yeah, fine,” Dan muttered.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Phil smiled softly, moving his leg to bump knees with Dan’s. Dan’s face heated up.

“Yeah,” he snipped, burying his face in his book.

Phil sighed and tried not to take it personally.

Just have to make it through to tonight.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil unlocked the front door while his friends shuffled and talked behind him. Phil kicked his shoes off and dropped his school bag by the front door, followed by another three sets of shoes and book bags. Phil made his way straight to the bathroom while Chris made his way straight to Phil’s kitchen, rooting through the cupboards for a bag of chips and a bowl to pour them into.

PJ and Dan made themselves at home in the living room.

“Man, seeing the knives in the sink reminded me of the nightmare I had last night too,” Chris chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Phil asked, plopping himself down on the couch next to Dan.

Chris leaned over in the arm chair across from them to snag another chip out of the bowl.

“I just mean like there was this guy, and he had knives for hands or something.”

Phil shook his head. “And you didn’t think to tell me this while I was telling you about my dream?”

Chris shrugged. 

“I guess I must have forgotten, honestly.”

Phil sighed. “Well, thanks for staying the night anyway you guys, I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” PJ replied.

*-*-*-*-*

Chris and PJ were asleep in Phil’s mom’s room while Dan was asleep on a make-shift bed on Phil’s floor. 

Phil didn’t want to admit it, but he was still scared to go to sleep.

“Dan,” Phil whispered.

“What?” Dan replied tersely.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Phil stared up at the ceiling.

“Did you need something?”

“No, I guess I just wanted to know if you were still awake.”

“Okay.”

Phil continued to stare at the ceiling. He felt something pulling at his gut, a feeling he couldn’t quite place.

“Dan?”

“What?”

“Do you really think being sixteen is that much worse than being thirteen?”

“I dunno, why?” Dan asked.

“When we were talking about Romeo and Juliet you said that being sixteen is much more depressing than being thirteen.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, is it?”

“Of course it is Phil. By sixteen you’re supposed to have the rest of your life planned out. You’re supposed to know what college you want to go to and for what. You’re supposed to be focusing on making good grades to get into that college. You’re supposed to move out and live on your own for the first time, and leave everything you know behind.”

“You think you’re going to move out and leave us behind?” Phil asked.

“Phil, did you really think we were going to be living with our parents and making videos on YouTube for the rest of our lives?” Dan countered.

Phil rolled over to look down at him.

“I don’t know. I guess. I thought, maybe we could all get jobs, and save up enough money to buy a house together, and live there.”

“And what happens when Chris and PJ get girlfriends, or their parents decide they need a real job, or ship them off to college to get a degree?”

“I don’t know, Dan. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

Phil rolled back over.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well aren’t you going to get a girlfriend and get a job and go to school maybe?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well what are you going to do after high school, then?”

“Go to school to be a lawyer I guess.”

“Do you want to be a lawyer?”

“No, not really.”

“Then why are you going to go to school to be a lawyer, then?”

“Because it’s something to do. We can’t just keep making YouTube videos for The Fantastic Foursome, Phil. It’s just not feasible. It’s not going to work out.”

“So you’re just going to go to school and get a law degree and find a wife and settle down and have kids and be a big-shot lawyer?”

“I’m not going to have a wife and kids, no, and I don’t think I’ll be some big-shot lawyer.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be nice, you think, to find the Juliet to your Romeo?”

“I don’t need her,” Dan replied.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve already found the Romeo to my Romeo. The one I hope won’t end in a tragic murder-suicide.”

“Oh.” Phil replied. “I guess I didn’t notice,” he thought. “Is that why you’ve been so… distant?”

“Yes. That and the general crushing weight of trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life.”

“I didn’t realize you’d found someone,” Phil mumbled, fiddling with a pulled thread on his blanket.

“I know, Phil. That’s the problem.”

Phil frowned. “I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to focus on us.” He hoped the hurt he was feeling didn’t come through in the sound of his voice.

“I know, Phil. Not hard enough, I guess.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s the problem,” Dan repeated.

Phil stared up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on his bedroom ceiling, mesmerized by the faint glow they gave off.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Phil asked.

“What was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Phil paused. “Something, so that you didn’t have to go through it alone.”

Phil heard Dan shrug in his sleeping bag.

“Do the others know?”

“I don’t know,” Dan admitted. “Not unless they’ve picked up on it on their own.”

“Was I really that oblivious?” Phil asked sadly.

“No, Phil. I think you tried. You just didn’t understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

They sat in silence for a moment, each staring up at the stars as they glowed softly.

“So?”

“So?”

“Well?”

“Oh.” Phil thought again for a moment.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Dan asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Phil said again, a little firmer this time.

Dan smiled to himself, shutting his eyes.

“Yeah. Go to sleep, Phil.”

“I will.”

Phil rolled over to face the wall.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Phil.”

*-*-*-*-*

Phil slowly came to consciousness from the sound of shuffling, thumping, and moving furniture. When he was finally fully conscious, he lifted his head quickly and gazed around the room, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Another noise and Phil leaned down and quickly shook Dan awake.

“Something’s wrong,” he said.

Phil whipped the covers off his body and placed his feet gently on the carpet. A loud yell and Phil was springing out of bed and out the bedroom door.

“Help!”

Phil ran around the staircase’s banister into his mom’s room.

He threw open the door and recoiled in horror.

“Oh my god.”

Everything in the room was covered in blood. From the dresser to the walls to the bed and even the ceiling, there was blood everywhere. And in the middle of it all lay Chris, bloodied and motionless on the master bed.

“Oh my god,” Phil repeated.

PJ was huddled in a corner, covered in blood, and sobbing.

“I didn’t- I couldn’t- I-”

Phil slowly approached the bed.

What was left of Chris’s face was contorted into a scream, slashed to bits. One eye had popped and the clear viscus fluid was running down his cheek into an open wound that was still fresh enough to be pouring blood. They say dead bodies don’t bleed, but what they don’t say is one that’s fresh enough will. It doesn’t matter if the heart is pumping anymore, there’s still holes in the body that the blood will come pooling out from.

Phil whirled around and hurled next to his mother’s bed on her once-immaculate carpet.

When Phil turned back around Dan was on the floor huddled next to PJ, trying to comfort him.

“Something- something killed him, I couldn’t stop it,” PJ gasped out. “It was invisible, I couldn’t see it, it dragged him up to the ceiling and just started cutting.”

Phil started hauling PJ up off the floor.

“Come on, we need to get you out of here,” he said, pulling PJ out the room with Dan’s help.

Phil closed the door behind them.

“We need to do something,” he said over PJ’s head to Dan, who was still holding PJ from under the arms.

“Like what?” Dan asked.

“Call the cops!” Phil insisted.

Dan shook his head. “What are we going to say? Chris was brutally murdered in a room alone with PJ. They’re going to pin this on him.”

Phil shook his head back. “You watch too many cop shows!”

Dan removed a hand from underneath PJ’s arm to point at Phil, causing PJ to slump to the side a bit.

“You don’t watch enough!”

Phil bit back any comments he had.

“What do you want to do then? Clean up the dead body, bury it in the back yard, and tell everyone he ran off? Face it. We need help. We’ll look more guilty if we don’t go to the cops. Don’t your CSI shows teach you that?”

Dan scowled but agreed.

“Fine, but let me do the talking.”

Dan pulled his other arm out from underneath PJ, essentially dropping him at his feet, and wiped the blood he’d picked up from PJ on his pajama pants. Then he went back into Phil’s bedroom and unplugged his phone from where it was charging and dialed 911.

“911, do you need fire, medical, or police?”:

“Medical and police, please.”

“Why do you need medical? He’s already dead-” PJ croaked from the floor. Dan waved away his comment.

“Standard procedure,” Phil whispered to PJ as Dan explained the situation to the 911 dispatcher. “They’ll need to take the body away in a body bag.”

“‘The body’? That’s our friend! He has a name! His name is Chris!”

Phil ignored him and looked back up from where he was crouched next to PJ to watch Dan on the phone.

“Yeah. Bethesda, New Jersey. Street address-” Dan recited Phil’s street address, though, it wasn’t hard. Dan lived right across the street, after all.

“Okay, yes ma’am. I’ll stay on the line until they get here. No, we’re standing out in the hallway. Okay, we’ll all hide in a bedroom.”

Dan motioned for them to follow him into Phil’s room.

After setting PJ back down, Phil closed and locked the door behind them.

“Yes, I can see the street. Alright we’re watching.”

They sat in Phil’s room together until the cops rolled up to the curb, Dan on the phone watching out the window, PJ huddled on the floor still covered in blood, and Phil flitting between them, kneeling by PJ’s side with his arm around his shoulders as he shook and sobbed or peering over Dan’s shoulder with a gentle hand on his arm.

When the cops finally arrived and Phil was peering over his shoulder with his hand on Dan’s arm once more, Dan gabbed his hand and squeezed while he hung up with the 911 dispatcher with his other hand.

Phil felt himself blush despite everything.

Phil sent Dan downstairs to meet with the officers while he stayed up in his room with PJ. The cops came upstairs and surveyed the crime scene while more cops outside roped off Phil’s house. On cop out on the lawn was on the phone. Phil wondered if they were trying to reach his mother.

Another cop gently pulled Phil, PJ, and Dan out of the house.

He spoke to them all separately, getting their initial statements. Phil told the truth, like he’d been raised to, hoping nothing he said would get PJ in trouble.

Dan’s parents had been woken up by the commotion and Phil watched them talk to an officer frantically as they pointed at Dan. Finally the officer nodded and they rushed under the crime scene tape to the boys, who were sitting on the curb outside of Phil’s house.

“Come on, you’re coming home right now.”

Dan’s mom grabbed his hand and hauled him up off the curb and dragged him back across the street. Dan glanced back over the blanket wrapped around his shoulders to stare at Phil. Then he turned away and went home.

PJ’s parents arrived on scene shortly after to take him home. Finally it was only Phil left, waiting for his mom to arrive home from wherever she’d gone.

“Do you have someplace you can stay near here?” A cop asked.

“Yeah, my dad’s house,” Phil answered, forlorn. His mom and dad weren’t on the best of terms but in a situation like this he figured it’d be the best option. It wasn’t really up to him, though.

“Can you give me the address for that?”

Phil recited it, still staring at the pavement instead of up at the officer.

The officer read the address back to Phil to confirm it and Phil nodded. The officer shuffled his feet as he wrote down more in his little notebook.

“What do you think happened?” Phil finally asked, looking directly up at the officer. 

The officer looked around, as if searching for a suitable answer, before bending down to squat by Phil.

“I dunno, kid, but we’ll find out.”

Somehow, Phil didn’t have a feeling they would.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil woke up the next morning and started getting ready for school.

“Honey? Where are you going?” his mom asked, calling him over. She had headed to his dad’s house and stayed the night after texting with Phil on her way home.

“To school?” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Phil’s mom reached over towards her son, who stood in the kitchen sleepy-eyed, backpack slung over one shoulder, and ruffled his hair.

“Honey, you don’t have to go to school today-”

“Mom, if I don’t, I’ll just be sitting around depressed. I need a distraction.”

His mom sighed and let out a breath.

His father walked into the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot from the coffee machine and poured it into a waiting mug.

“If he says he wants to go to school, let ‘im go to school,” his dad argued.

Phil’s mom shook her head. “Alright, but you text us if you feel you need to come home for any reason. And here-” she reached behind her and grabbed a muffin in a wrapper- “eat this on your way.”

“Thanks, Mom. See ya, Dad,” Phil grabbed the muffin from his mom on his way out the door.

*-*-*-*-*

Living in a split-parent household, Phil thankfully was already an established patron on the bus that ran from his dad’s neighborhood to the school.

He was thankful his bus driver didn’t say anything about it not being his dad’s week when he got on the bus. He was sure by now news had spread about Chris’s death. He wasn’t looking forward to talking about it. He hoped he was enough of a social outcast the most people would do were offer their condolences. That, he could handle.

A school assembly was called and together, he, PJ, and Dan, all who had shown up to school sat in the back. Many gazes were thrown back at them, and they did their best to ignore them.

When the assembly was finished they were the first ones out of the auditorium door.

Phil sat in English class, the chair in front of him notably empty. His teacher was droning on and on about Romeo and Juliet, trying her best to return to some semblance of normal, but all the words blended together into monotonous background noise. The windows were open, and it was still early enough in the semester that they days were warm and full of sunshine that filtered through the leaves on the trees outside as they danced in the wind, creating beautiful shadows that dappled Dan’s skin next to him. Phil found himself watching the shadows as they too danced, it was hypnotic, it was intoxicating, and Phil was falling deeper and deeper into a lull until…

*-*-*-*-*

Plink.

Phil looked around.

The sound was familiar, but he just couldn’t place it. 

It wasn’t raining out, though the sky was cloudy and dark now. Nothing was leaking.

Plink.

Movement out of the corner of his eye. Phil turned, but it was too late. A flash of something white outside the classroom door. His teacher was still going on and on about Romeo and Juliet. He had found his Romeo. He didn’t care how the story ended. That wasn’t how his story ended.

Phil got up and walked towards the classroom door.

Phil….

A voice… familiar… comforting… like the call of a childhood friend…

It was the call of a childhood friend.

“Chris?”

Phil reached the door.

He looked to the left where he’d seen movement and gasped.

Chris was standing in the middle of the hallway, pale, soaking wet, hair matted down on the sides of his face.

“Phil…”

“Chris!” Phil ran towards Chris, an arm outstretched, but in a hazy mist he disappeared.

“Chris?”

“Phil, it’s so cold…”

Phil whirled around. There he stood again. Still. Lifeless. Dead eyes. But dripping.

Plink.

The sound was off somehow… it didn’t make sense…

“Chris?”

Phil walked slower this time, approaching with caution. Something just… didn’t feel right…

Phil reached out a hand, slower this time.

“Chris?”

Whatever was pretending to be Chris reached up in a flurry of motion and grabbed Phil’s arm, and suddenly the world around him changed.

He was back again in a dark boiler room, with pipes running down the length of the halls and the echoes of footsteps walking across a metal catwalk drawing ever nearer and nearer.

“Phil….”

The voice was deeper this time. Unsettling. 

Panicking, Phil turned back the way he’d come and started running. He looked about where his classroom should have been but there was nothing. He kept running.

“You can’t outrun me!”

“Leave me alone!”

Phil started panting as he ran.

“Come, join your friend!”

Phil ran headfirst into something and bounced off, falling back onto his hands and rear. When he looked up the man in the fedora and tattered green and red sweater was standing before him, wiggling his fingers sheathed in his homemade knife glove.

“Leave me alone!”

Phil scrambled to his feet.

I’m in a dream.

He didn’t know where the thought, or perhaps realization, came from. Perhaps it was his survival instinct kicking in.

I just need to wake up.

Phil looked around for something, anything, he could use to pull him out of this nightmare scape. He noticed a broken piece of metal railing up ahead and ran over to it.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, he thought to himself as he pulled his arm up to his chest and threw it to the side as hard as he could into the metal spike.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil woke up in his English classroom wailing and screaming.

All eyes turned to him as he clutched his arms and bared his teeth.

His teacher rushed over to him while PJ and Dan stared at him in shock.

“Meet me… after school…” was all he got out before he was dragged away to the nurses office.

*-*-*-*-*

“Oh my god, honey, what happened to your arm?”

“I hurt it in English class,” Phil muttered as his mom drove him back towards his dad’s house.

Seeming to sense Phil wasn’t up for talking, she focused instead on driving him back in one piece.

Phil’s arm had been bandaged up, but the school had told Phil he should get it looked at by a doctor. Phil didn’t have time for that, though. He had work to do.

Phil’d realized that in their “dream world”, as he was calling it, things that happened had influence on real life. That was why the killer had been able to kill Chris through his dream, and why Phil’s injury had carried over into the real world. That meant, in theory, that as long as they stayed awake they were safe… or, that if they managed to find a way to kill the man hunting them in their dreams, then maybe, just maybe… they could stop him.

Phil got right to work when they arrived back at his dad’s house. He went out to the shed and started stacking things up in his arms. A box of nails, a hammer, an ax… anything that looked like it could be of use, he grabbed.

As quietly as he could, he hauled everything through the backdoor to his room.

Phil wasn’t sure how to get his parents out of the house, but he figured he’d think of that later. For now, he tried his best to quietly set up his room full of booby traps.

He was still working on everything when PJ and Dan showed up at his door.

He ushered them inside as quietly as he could. Thankfully his mom was asleep.

Pj and Dan sat down next to each other on Phil’s bed.

“What happened?” PJ asked.

“I fell asleep in English class,” Phil started.

“And ended up with a stab wound?” Dan asked incredulously, reaching out for Phil’s arm. Phil placed his hand in Dan’s with a flutter in his stomach as Dan slowly rotated Phil’s arm to take a look at the bandaging. The spot where Phil had impaled himself was stained a dark red.

Phil took his hand back. “I saw the knife-hand man again. He’s the one that killed Chris. He was able to hurt Chris through Chris’s dream, just like I was able to hurt myself to wake up. If he can hurt us while we’re asleep, maybe we can hurt him too.”

PJ shook his head. “What are you saying?”

“I want to go after him.”

“Why?” Dan asked.

“Because,” Phil emphasized. “We can’t just sit around and wait for him to come after the rest of us.”

This time it was Dan who shook his head.

“This is crazy, Phil. We can’t do this.”

PJ stood up.

“Where are you going?” Phil exclaimed in confusion.

“Home!” PJ snapped. Phil recoiled.

“Chris is dead, and you, you’re rambling about some dream demon that killed him-”

“So what do you think happened?” Phil challenged.

PJ shook his head again. “I don’t know-”

“Well you were the only one there-”

“I know. But this? This is insanity.”

PJ started to walk out.

“Stop! Wait! PJ! You can’t fall asleep! Don’t go to sleep!”

But PJ was already out the door.

Phil turned to Dan, exasperated.

“I’m right,” he insisted.

“I know,” Dan agreed. But he, too, got up off of Phil’s bed and left.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil spent that night sitting on a chair in the kitchen holding a bat. The TV was going in the living room and Phil could see it from where he was sitting. It was some sort of reality TV program streaming, something from TLC or something, scripted to be full of extra drama. The kind of nauseating thing people watched to satisfy some sick voyeuristic tendency or fantasy or something. Phil wasn’t really paying attention.

The screen flickered dark for a second and Phil turned his eyes up from where he’d been scrolling through social media on his phone to the TV. He watched for a few seconds and then glanced back down at his phone. The screen darkened once more and Phil’s eyes were drawn up again.

This time he noticed a man in a green and red stripped sweater and brown fedora waving to him with a knife-hand. Phil shut his phone off and slipped it back into his pocket, adjusting his grip on the bat.

The nightlight plugged in above the kitchen counter flickered.

Phil waited, hushed, to hear any sort of noise. The only thing he could hear was the TV in the other room and his dad snoring. With his plan put on hold, he hadn’t needed to find a way to get his parents out of the house.

Suddenly the room went dark and Phil was transported to his bedroom.

He was leaning up against the wall when suddenly a force grabbed him by the throat and dragged him upwards towards his ceiling. As Phil gasped and struggled, pulling at his neck, the figure appeared in front of him, hand outstretched as if he were the one guiding Phil in a chokehold, like Darth Vader in Star Wars. The figure flung his arm behind him and Phil was thrown across the room, bouncing on his bed and hitting the other wall. Phil scrambled back onto his bed as quickly as he could, but suddenly his bed was out in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Aching all over, Phil pushed himself back off the bed in a standing position, taking a few hesitant steps.

As he stared down the sidewalk in the dark he felt something watching him from behind.

He turned around cautiously and eyed a telephone pole topped with a street light behind him. There was a figure behind it. 

As if in a daze, Phil turned back around and started walking forwards before turning around again.

This time the figure was in front of the telephone pole, leaning back on it casually, waving a knife-gloved hand with a cheery smile. 

Phil turned around again and started running down the sidewalk.

Phil ran through a crosswalk without looking either way to see if traffic was coming, past a yellow fire hydrant, when suddenly the figure was standing there in front of him again, arms out forward and palms up, still smiling.

Phil whirled around, arms pinwheeling, and once again his bare feet was hitting the sidewalk as he ran back across the street.

Chest heaving, sweat pouring down his face, he reached the front of his house again, and yet there the figure was, leaning up against the telephone pole again, moving towards him unnaturally, almost like he was glitching out. 

Dejected and exhausted, Phil fell to his knees as the man approached.

When he was close enough, Phil reached out a hand and grabbed the man’s unarmed, or un-knifed, hand.

Sensing this was the end, Phil watched the man raise his knife-clawed hand up in the air by his head and bring it down on Phil.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil woke up with a jolt to find himself on the floor of his kitchen. His hand instinctively cradled his head, and he realized he’s fallen over in the kitchen chair while dreaming. The jolt had woken him up just before he’d been slated to die.

Phil pulled his hand away from his head and noticed there was something in it.

He pulled the piece of fabric up to his face. It was dark red, and smelled putrid. Quickly he pulled it back away from his face, before the realization hit him: he’d managed to pull the scrap of sweater from the man in his dream into the real world.

Phil’s hunch that things in the dream world affected things in the real world had been proved right again.

*-*-*-*-*

The next morning PJ was dead.

Phil sat through another day of school learning that another one of his best friends had died under mysterious circumstances.

When school let out, Phil’s mom picked up both him and Dan and drove them back to Phil’s father’s house.

Just like they had the afternoon before, Dan sat on Phil’s bed. The only difference was this time the spot next to Dan was empty. Another body in the morgue.

“We can do this,” Phil argued. “We have to.”

“Okay,” Dan agreed. He knew Phil was right.

Phil sat down next to Dan on his bed.

“We need to prepare.”

“I thought you already did that,” Dan mentioned, looking around at all the supplies Phil had left in his room from yesterday.

“Yeah, but we need a better plan.”

“What are you thinking?” Dan asked.

“We need to go in, together somehow. We need to jump in together and weaken him enough to where we can bring him out here, where we can finish him off. We need to even the playing field. Get him off his turf and onto ours.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Dan asked.

Phil grabbed something from his nightstand.

In front of Dan’s eyes, he waved a bottle of pills which rattled as he shook them.

“This is Diazepam. It’s a benzo. It’ll make us both drowsy enough to where we should knock out at around the same time.”

“Aren’t you tired enough to fall asleep instantly without the drugs?” Dan asked.

“Yeah,” Phil agreed, “but we need to be there together. Be honest, did you end up falling asleep last night?”

“Yeah,” Dan admitted.

Phil nodded his head. “So did I, and he almost got me. I think he must have killed PJ after he wasn’t able to kill me.”

Dan’s face dropped considerably at the mention of their murdered friend.

“I really think we have a shot,” Phil pushed gently.

Dan was chewing on a fingernail while he thought about Phil’s proposition.

“It’s all or nothing.”

“Fine,” Dan agreed, pulling his thumb away from his mouth.

“Alright,” Phil nodded.

*-*-*-*-*

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Dan asked.

They were laying side-by-side on Phil’s bed, like they always had. It was different this time though. In one hand they held a handful of pills. In the other they held each other.

“No,” Phil admitted. “I just have a feeling. Like something’s telling me this is how it has to be.”

He squeezed the hand that was holding Dan’s.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Dan squeezed back.

“I’m ready.”

Together they clapped their hands to their mouths, popping the pills in and tilting their heads back to swallow it down. And then they waited.

“Now what?”

“We wait.”

They paused.

“Is there anything you want to say if we don’t make it out of this alive?” Dan asked.

Phil laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling in his bedroom in his dad’s house, laying next to Dan like he had a thousand times in his other bed in his other home.

“It was nice knowing you. I’m really sorry we didn’t get a chance to be together properly, but I’m thankful for the time that we had.”

Phil turned his head to look at Dan.

“What about you?”

Dan turned to face Phil.

“Pretty much the same.”

“How original,” Phil cracked a smile.

“You know me,” Dan smiled cheekily. “Always a classic.”

Phil blinked a few times as the effects of the drugs started to kick in, making him drowsy.

“I can’t help but think this is all part of a bigger plan somehow,” he drolled, shaking his head woozily. 

“What do you mean?” Dan asked.

“This isn’t the end. It’s just a piece of the puzzle. Like…” Phil trailed off before picking his thoughts back up, fighting through the drug-induced haze. “Like in another reality, we’re meant to be together.”

“Like Romeo and Juliet?” Dan asked.

“Like Romeo and Juliet,” Phil repeated, eyes fluttering shut.

*-*-*-*-*

Together they woke up in that dark boiler room again, the one bathed in a red glow, where the air was humid and caused the cold sweat to run down their backs, giving them a chill. 

They were splayed out on the cool cement floor, eyes wide open and yet unmoving. It was almost as if there was a force of gravity pushing them down.

Fighting it, they stood up. 

“Hey!”

Dan whirled around, startled.

“Hey, you! Knife man!” Phil yelled.

Phil’s voiced bounced and echoed off the metal pipes.

“Get your ass down here!”

They looked around but they seemed to be alone.

“Let’s climb up those stairs,” Phil suggested.

Dan followed Phil as he slowly crept up the stairs. Dan watched behind them as they climbed while Phil kept his eyes forward. Dan felt like he was in some sort of cheesy horror movie, where they would bump into the killer and yell some cheesy catch-phrase or let out a well-practiced and ear-splitting scream and run only to trip and fall, or perhaps barricade themselves in a room only to realize they were in even more danger from some unforeseen element. 

Down the metal pathway they crept, slowly and surely, waiting for the man in the tattered striped sweater and ratty hat and knifes-for-fingers to come bursting out at them. They’d managed to survive so far, but how much longer could this go on before they lost? Dan knew they were doing the right thing in being proactive; they couldn’t just afford to hope this was all some bad dream and when they woke up in the morning it would go away. It wasn’t going away. It was kill or be killed.

The air around them hissed and the pipes groaned. It was the kind of sounds that filled a space, like it was crawling into Dan’s ears and making a home in his brain. The kind of sound that felt like it would always be there until you left and suddenly it was quite and it was as if you’d never heard the silence before.

“Helloooooo!” Phil called again, causing Dan to jump again.

“I wish you’d give me a head’s up before you do that,” he whispered.

“Sorry,” Phil whispered back.

“Hey! Man with the ugly sweater! It’s September! Christmas isn’t until December! Then your red-and-green ugly-ass sweater will be in season. Bitch!”

Phil stopped and glanced behind at Dan.

“Damn,” he remarked. “Drag his ass.”

Dan let out a chuckle from the corner of the small smile on his lips when all of a sudden the sound of metal-on-metal split the air like the scream of a girl in a horror movie.

Their bodies tensed and they looked around with jerky movements, trying their best to catch a glimpse of the man who was after them.

They backed up back-to back, sweat soaking through their shirts, hearts pounding.

“Danny…” a deep voice called from somewhere.

“Philly…” it called again.

Suddenly the man was right in front of Phil, slashing away.

Phil’s vision lit up with red before the man disappeared and he registered a burning sensation in his abdomen region.

Phil instinctively bent over in pain and clasped and arm to his stomach area where he could feel it start to become soaked in blood, leading him to realize he’d been slashed.

He fought the urge to look down. He didn’t have time to get carried away with how bad it was.

Again the man flashed before them, this time in front of Dan, and with another swipe of his claws he drew blood.

Dan had been able to react in time to block the swipes aimed at his face, leading his forearm sliced to ribbons.

Dan cried out and grabbed his bloodied arm with his other hand, whirling around to check on Phil

“Phil!” he called.

Phil looked around. “Quick! We need to think of a way to injure him!”

“Maybe we can burn him again by pushing him into one of the hot pipes!” Dan suggested through gritted teeth. His arm was on fire, and he was loosing a lot of blood. He wasn’t familiar with anatomy, but he knew well enough if you cut deep enough in the right place in an arm or a leg you’d hit a major artery, and that wasn’t good news.

There was no sign of the man with the scarred face, so Phil stumbled a few steps forward, but he was feeling rather woozy.

He allowed himself to look down but all he could see was blood, blood everywhere.

Phil stumbled a few more steps forward, determined to fight. 

He had slipped up once. He wouldn’t let it happen again. It was just a mistake. He’d survived this long. He could survive a little longer. He could finish this. He could end it.

Phil stumbled yet another few steps until he came upon a new pipe that was introduced to the walkway area from somewhere beyond at a 90 degree angle. If he could just get the man to appear here and hold him to the pipe long enough to wake up, maybe he could put his own arm to the pipe and use the pain to wake himself up again.

Only…

Phil was already in pain. Phil was in a lot of pain. And it hadn’t woken him up yet.

Why hadn’t it woken him up yet?

Phil stopped stumbling and reached out to steady himself on the nearest thing before catching himself before he leaned on the steaming hot pipe and instead put his hand on the railing of the walkway. His hand was covered in blood though, and the metal slipped though his grasp and Phil stumbled forward, catching himself at the last second and trying again to grab onto the railing. This time he was successful.

He turned to look over his shoulder and saw that Dan hadn’t moved from his spot.

He opened his mouth to call Dan closer when suddenly the man appeared before Dan again and swiped.

Dan’s hand was on his arm this time, though, leaving him defenseless.

Phil tried to let out a scream but nothing came out.

As if in slow motion Dan’s head tilted back, facing Phil at a most unnatural angle, blood spurting out the front of Dan’s neck as his body crumpled to the metal walkway, head still bent backwards.

Dan’s dead eyes stared at Phil and frozen, Phil gazed back into them, taking in the gaping hole in the love of his short life’s neck, and how it opened like a chasm, like some sort of mouth to spew horrible things.

And then the man was in front of him again.

Phil reached up and grabbed the man’s wrist again like he had the night before, and with an unnatural strength he raised his arm up, pulling Phil up with him, pulling his feet off the floor and leaving the toes of his sneakers dangling downwards as they dripped with his own blood.

And then the man flung Phil again, like he had in Phil’s room in his dream the night before.

Only this time, instead of hitting a wall, Phil hit a pipe that was steaming and hot, and the sound of steam filled Phil’s ears even more as he listened to the flesh of his back sizzle while he screamed in agony and his ears filled with his screams and he stuck there to the pipe as his flesh and muscle burned to it and burnt and suddenly there was a wretched, horrible, smell, and Phil was screaming, and he realized the smell was him, it was his flesh, it was his body, and it burned him to the bone, and only when there was more bone than flesh did he drop to the floor, but by that point he was already dead, his blood was spilling out of his front and his back had burned to a steaming hot pipe, and somewhere, in his bed, in a small town in New Jersey the body of two star-crossed lovers lay dead next to a bottle of sleeping pills.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil jerked awake in his bed, covered in sweat.

Frantically he reached over to his side table and with shaky hands unlocked his phone and clicked the last number he’d called.

“Hello?”

Of course, there was nothing like dead children to ruin the mood.

Phil’s face had turned an ashy white and Dan’s face had turned into a confused look of concern.

“You think you killed them?” Dan clarified. “How?”

“I had a dream last night-” 

In the worst possible timing, their waitress brought out their pizzas.

“-thank you-anyway, I had a dream last night that you and I were camp counselors-”

“Me?” Dan asked. A part of him wanted to make a “you dreamed of me?” joke, but he could tell by Phil’s expression and even paler face- honestly he didn’t know Phil could even get any paler- that this was serious.

“Yeah, you and me, and we were camp counselors, at THAT camp.”

“And?” Dan prompted.

“And?” Phil repeated, confused. “We died! Horribly! Dramatically!”

Dan shook his head.

“So you’re telling me that you had a dream that you and I-”

“And other teens-”

Dan sighed, frustrated at being interrupted.

“Alright, so that you and me and other people were camp counselors at that camp, and we all died.”

“Murdered.”

Dan nodded, trying not to roll his eyes.

“Well how do you even know it’s the same camp?” Dan asked.

“I saw the sign in the news footage!”

“What if you’re just misremembering and this jogged your memory of your dream and you just think it’s the same camp now?”

“It wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare!” 

Dan sighed but decided not to point out that it had been Phil who had started calling it a dream first. He could be so childish sometimes. It got to be grating.

“Okay, well, whatever it is, I’m sure it had nothing to do with you.”

“We HAVE to go down there and investigate!”

Dan had finally started to reach for a slice of the pizza he order but stopped suddenly.

“Woah, woah, woah. We don’t have to do anything. This has nothing to do with us.”

Phil couldn’t help but notice his heart skip a beat at the use of Dan’s “us” despite everything.

“Dan, I’m TELLING you, I have something to do with this.”

Dan finally succumbed to rolling his eyes.

“Dan! Please. I’m asking you. As a favor. As a friend. Please. I want to be on this case.”

“How do you know the FBI is even going to look into this?”

In a moment of instant karma, his phone lit up and he glanced down at it quickly.

Are you seeing the news coming out of Texas??? Going to be called down there ASAP!!!

It was Jake.

Dan let out a heavy sigh. He stared down at his pizza. He stared at Phil. He stared down at his pizza again.

“Fine.”

Phil’s face split into a smile.

“But I’m finishing this fucking pizza first.”

*-*-*-*-*

“You know, just because you dreamed this before it happened doesn’t mean you killed them,” Dan offered.

They had driven back to Phil’s apartment where Phil had packed a bag and left his car. They then hopped into Dan’s car and started the drive back down to Quantico.

“Well what, then?” Phil asked. He was distressed, Dan could tell.

“Maybe you just saw it before it happened,” Dan suggested.

“Like what, seeing the future?”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I can’t do that,” Phil shook his head.

Dan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly.

“Well I don’t know what you can do,” he argued. Because you never talk to me.

“I do talk to you!” Phil whined.

Dan slammed on the brakes a bit too hard as the car in front of him started slowing down. He used the break as an opportunity to sip his coffee.

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” he commented stoically.

“I can’t control it!”

“Alright, Phil, just calm down-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

The radio started to become staticy as it flipped through the stations.

“This only happens when you’re around, anyway!”

Dan started grinding his teeth.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours! If you weren’t so-” Phil gestured him up and down in the driver’s seat- “you!”

Dan rolled his eyes, but he knew what Phil meant.

“I’m sorry I’m such a problem. I’ll just drop you off if that’s what you want, then.”

Phil bit his tongue. Once again he needed Dan, and he knew that.

“This doesn’t happen with anyone else,” he muttered instead, under his breath. Dan heard him, though.

“You don’t have anyone else,” Dan muttered back. He reached for the volume dial and cranked it up. Phil pulled out his trusty earbuds and plugged them into his phone and cranked the volume up himself.

*-*-*-*-*

There was no fanfare, no welcome, when they arrived on Quantico’s campus. Dan parked his car in one of the numerous parking lots and Phil followed him into the building. Dan led the way through a series of hallways and up and down floors until he was able to locate Jake in his office.

“Dan!”

Phil peered around the doorway behind Dan.

“And you must be Phil!”

Does he know? Phil asked, reaching out.

No. Dan smiled at Jake, never once turning back to look at Phil.

“You’re back much sooner than I expected!”

“Didn’t you get my text back?” Dan asked.

“Well, sure, but I still didn’t really expect you to have such an interest in the case!”

Dan reached a finger under the collar of his leather jacket and scratched absent-mindedly. “Yeah, well, you know Phil just saw the case on the news and really thought he could lend a hand to the case! He asked as a personal favor if I could bring him down here to talk to you guys about it.”

Jake focused his attention on Phil.

“Well, you drove all the way down here, I’m sure there’s something you can help us out with while you’re here. I can’t promise much else though. I’m a bit low on the totem pole, but I’ll do my best to put in a good word for you both. If I’m being honest, I’m rather interested in this case as well. The killers hardly left a clue behind! Camp Crystal Lake is a privately owned summer camp, so it doesn’t fall under our jurisdiction, and you know how they can be down there- it’ll take a lot for them to ask for outside help.”

“Seven mutilated children isn’t enough?” Dan asked, using the same description as they had on the news. Jake shrugged.

“I’ll try my best, Dan. Let’s head down to the briefing room now and see who I can scrounge up that’s taken an interest in this case as well.”

Phil backed up so Dan could move out of the door way and Jake could exit his office. On his way out he shut off the lights and closed the door behind him. Phil heard the door lock with a click.

The three of them started down the hallway, Dan and Phil trailing behind Jake.

“So, Phil, Dan told me it’s thanks to your case that he got the FBI’s attention. Said something about you guys uncovering a mass conspiracy for some whack cancer treatment testing on people. Wild! ‘Course, it makes you wonder, if that can go under our noses for so long, what else can.”

“Probably a lot,” Phil replied.

Dan elbowed him in the ribs.

“You’re right!” Jake agreed. “That’s why it’s so great that more people like you guys are looking to join and help out around here. We do the best we can, but more eyes on something, more minds with different ideas- that’s how we’re going to make a difference.”

Only Phil didn’t want more eyes on this case. He wanted to figure it out, just him and Dan. He knew this was too big for either of them to go it alone, though. Even back when they’d been tracking down Martyn’s murderer they’d had the full force of the FBI behind them- and they’d needed it. This case was already far too big and public to go back now.

“I’m sending out a message to see if anyone’s available and willing to meet in around half an hour, or drop in at some point a bit later than that,” Jake informed them as they turned into a conference room. “Like I said, I’m not sure how much we’re really going to get out of this, but I’d hate to have you leave empty-handed. And I’m really proud of the initiative you showed by driving all the way down here. Not sure the other’s will see it that way,” he added quietly, almost as an afterthought to himself.

Jake took a seat and gestured to the seats on his right. Dan took the seat closed to Jake and Phil took the seat next to Dan.

“Phil, have you ever been to Quantico before?”

Phil shook his head.

“Well, I’m not sure half an hour will really give you time to take a tour around here, but you’re both free to go get something to eat or drink if you’d like. Maybe after Dan can show you around,” Jake suggested encouragingly.

Dan turned to Phil, acting as a mediator.

“Are you good? Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?”

As annoyed as Phil was at feeling babied by Dan, as soon as he’d asked, Phil realized he did, in fact, need to use the bathroom.

“Yeah, actually,” Phil mumbled awkwardly.

Dan turned back to Jake.

“Alright, we’ll be back in a few. And thanks again, for all of this.” Dan gestured vaguely.

“Anytime, Danny-boy,” Jake smiled widely. Dan smiled warmly back and Phil felt his stomach (and his fists) tighten.

Dan pushed back from the table and stood up followed by Phil. They exited the conference room.

“‘Danny-boy’?” Phil asked, trying his best to keep the sneer out of his voice.

“Whatever, he’s helping us out, alright? If you want in on this case, you’ll need to get along with him,” Dan huffed.

“‘Want in on this case’? I have insight on this case,” Phil argued.

“Insight, huh? And what exactly do you have? Because the cops down there haven’t found anything.”

“We were there, Dan-”

“You were there.”

Phil tried his best to push aside the memory of how he was feeling that night in his dream, before all the murder had started to happen. They had been… attracted to each other. But that was just part of the dream. That part wasn’t real, just like Phil wasn’t really there.

Phil had been feeling off since the whole thing. He felt… moodier. Little things that didn’t normally bother him were getting to him, and a part of him felt like he was overreacting to these things, but there was a darker part of himself he was desperately trying to push down as it desperately tried to claw it’s way out. It felt like he was justified in being annoyed at all of this. This, whatever “this” was, just wasn’t him. But was he really so wrong for being upset at how Dan was treating the whole thing?

In the end, Phil managed to bite his tongue until they made it down the hall to the bathroom.

“He was right, this place really is nice,” Phil tried instead, hoping that by forcing out his positive thoughts they could overcome his negative emotions.

“It is. I’ve had a lot of fun working here. More fun than I’ve had in years.”

It was hard not to take that personally.

The bathroom, thankfully, had stalls, and Phil was able to lock himself in one and just give himself a moment to breathe.

Phil sat on the toilet and hung his head in his hands. Things were moving so fast. This was just supposed to be a lunch date between friends, right? They were friends, after all. 

Nothing more, nothing less, said a little voice in his head.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care. 

He did care.

Phil curled his fingers in his hair and pulled. The pain of his hair tugging matched the emotional turmoil he was feeling. It felt good. It felt like something. Like maybe if he went far enough, was dramatic enough, someone would notice how hurt he was feeling inside and stop to ask him what the matter was. Who, though? Who could he even talk to about this? Certainly not Dan, and certainly not Jake.

“You good in there?” Dan asked, almost as if on cue.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Phil responded in a cheery voice. It sounded so fake to him, and yet so real. Of course, he’d always had to wear a mask of sorts, hiding all the things he felt inside from others. But it was almost worse when it was his own feelings.

Phil stood up and turned around and finally unzipped his pants to take a piss. When he was done he walked out of the stall. Dan was waiting for him as he washed his hands, leaning with his back up against the wall by the sink.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how chilling it must have been to see us getting murdered.”

Phil nodded and walked past him out the bathroom door without a word.

They walked back into the conference room and sat back down in their chairs. Phil pulled out his phone and his earbuds and plugged them into one another before putting the round parts in his ears. He opened up his music app and looked for the heaviest music he had before hitting play.

Dan opened his own phone and started scrolling through his social media feed. Phil noticed a lot of hot guys out of the corner of his eye. He tried not to compare himself to them and turned the volume up on his music. A glance over from Dan alerted him that he could hear Phil’s music, but Phil really didn’t care. Anything to drown his own thoughts out.

After what seemed like an eternity and yet not enough songs, Jake returned followed by some men in crisp suits of varying ages. 

Unlike a normal conference table, this one was round, meaning that when the men sat down, no one was sitting at the head of the table. Otherwise, Phil assumed, Jake would have been the one sitting there. He’d been the one to organize this meeting, after all.

“Welcome in,” Jake greeted, sounding almost like a cashier welcoming people into their store begrudgingly. “The time is now eighteen hundred hours on August the 13th. We are meeting here to discuss the case out of Texas regarding the mass murder of seven local teens.”

Jake looked around the room at each of them, waiting to see if anyone had anything to add.

Jake shuffled the file he’d brought in with him and flipped through the pages within the envelope.

“As of right now we have not been invited into the case, and since the camp is privately owned we don’t have any legal grounds to insert ourselves into the case. Our boys in black down there at the Texas Bureau of Information are of course on scene and working with local law enforcement, but they haven’t asked to bring the big guns in yet by any means.”

Jake looked around again.

“With us here I have a recent graduate of our training program, Detective Howell, as well as a specialist we have who has worked with Detective Howell in the past, Phil Lester.”

“A specialist in what?” One of the men piped up. Phil shifted nervously in his seat.

“He’s an on-call psychic.”

Phil could hear audible snickers around the room and felt a bump on his leg as Dan knocked his knee against Phil’s in silent support. The feeling from Dan’s knee lingered against Phil’s leg, and he clutched on to it.

“They have an interest in the case and would like to be sent down on our behalf to send a report back from us.”

“What’s the interest?” the same man asked. Dan pipped up this time.

“What’s not to be interested in? Seven murders and no evidence left behind?”

A few of the men nodded, acknowledging the fact.

“If the case really is so bamboozling then what’s the point of sending a greenie and a kook? Why waste the resources? There are plenty of other cases other people aren’t vying for to send them on.”

“Like I said, they expressed a personal interest.”

“I believe I can be of some assistance,” Phil pipped up, “and if they have no leads, then working another angle without taking away any real resources from their investigation wouldn’t hurt, would it? We’d stay out of their way unless they needed a hand with something but conduct our own investigative angle on the side.”

Phil caught a supportive look from Jake.

The older men looked around at each other.

“And once again this is time and money. Why should we be spending those on this case?”

“For time, I don’t have any classes I’m teaching coming up, meaning there’s no reason I can’t be out in the field. Detective Howell doesn’t have any cases to assist on yet, because, as you pointed out, he’s a newbie. Mr. Lester is a consultant, but is willing to work pro-bono on this. In fact, we all are. What we’re asking for is the resources from the FBI to work it under their name. If you really need me to, I’d be more than happy to work back the funds it would take to put us up in a hotel, gas, food, etc.”

One of the older men leaned back in his chair in thought while another one leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk.

“Well, I for one, think it could be a good thing,” said a man who hadn’t spoken up to this point. He had a snow white beard and looked scholarly despite his suit and tie. “There’s never anything wrong with having our own boots on the ground in a case like this.”

The man to his right nodded in agreement.

The man leaning forward on the desk, one of the ones that’d been asking Jake to justify this trip shook his head. “I just don’t think it’s worth the expense.”

The beared man waved a hand and shook his head. 

“You guys and your finances. If we don’t let people here have opportunities like this, there won’t be a Federal Bureau of Investigation in the future. They’re young! Let them travel and work on this, even just for a few days. If you really get worried about the expenses, call them back home.”

The finances guy looked to the guy on his left.

“Fine. You’ll leave at oh seven hundred hours tomorrow. We’ll start getting ready for your trip now. Jake, you’re with me. The other two can stay in the dorms for the night.”

The men got up and started shuffling their way out. Jake turned to look at Dan. 

“Your old dorm room should be empty if you’d like to sleep up there,” he suggested. Dan nodded. Jake shifted his gaze to Phil

“It was really nice to finally meet you, Phil. I’ve heard so much about you, I’m really looking forward to seeing what you can offer on this case.”

Phil smiled thinly and followed Dan out of the building towards the dorms.

“If he doesn’t know about what I can do, then what exactly does he think I do?” Phil asked as they walked.

“Pretty much he just thinks you go around and look at things and get vibes from them and translate those into something,” Dan explained.

“But that is what I do.”

“Yeah, well, I left out the part where you can deflect bullets and change the radio by blinking at it and, oh yeah, talk to people in their heads.”

Phil shrugged.

They stood outside the dorm rooms.

“This was the one I was staying in.” Dan held up a key and used it to unlock the door to his old dorm room, flicking on the lightswitch to his right.

Phil could feel the sense of home radiating off Dan: the nostalgia, the comfort, the familiarity. He missed it here. It was like he’d never wanted to come back home to Massachusetts. To Phil.

Phil pushed the feelings away as best as he could.

“Where am I sleeping?” he asked rather bluntly.

Dan went back out into the hall and unlocked the room next door with the same key.

“Bathrooms are down the hall on the right. Think you’ll be okay for the night?”

Phil went to answer when all of a sudden his stomach growled loudly.

Dan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Pizza again for dinner okay?” he asked with a grin.

Phil rolled his eyes and a small smile escaped from his lips.

“Do you know a place?”

Dan smiled wider.

“I do.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

*-*-*-*-*

Another booth in another pizza parlor on another road trip with Dan, only this time, he was an agent.

“Do you have a badge and everything?” Phil asked around a mouthful of cheese, sauce, and crust.

“Not yet. There’s still a lot I need to do before I become an official agent.”

“Did you come here with Jake a lot?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Dan answered. He didn’t know why Phil was being so weird about Jake. Jake was a nice guy, and if anything, he was putting a lot on the line to help Phil with this little whim of his. He hoped Phil would lighten up soon. Even hunting down Martyn’s killers Phil had been the one to see the bright side of things. Now, everything just felt like doom and gloom. It felt like Phil had his own personal cloud hanging over his head, the weight of this prophetic dream he felt like he couldn’t share with anyone else, because they could never fully understand or felt the things he’d felt.

“Was it scary?” Dan asked.

Phil’s eyes flickered down to his lap.

“It was terrifying,” he finally answered in a hushed voice.

He placed the slice of pizza he’d been eating down and pushed the plate off to the side a bit.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Dan said. He’d been trying to work on his “people skills” since joining the bureau. That was another thing Jake had been helping him with.

“I feel… different,” Phil admitted.

Dan cocked his head to the side just a bit.

“I can tell,” he replied.

“I’m sorry,” Phil apologized.

Dan shook his head. “I hope you feel better. But, in the meantime, do you think you should maybe… talk to someone?”

“Like you?” Phil asked, slightly confused.

“No, I mean, like, a therapist or something. You don’t have to go into detail about your powers and everything, but plenty of people have awful dreams that really leave an impact on them. Maybe a therapist would have some suggestions, and ways to help make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Phil hadn’t even thought about what would happen if he’d to have another dream like that one.

“I hate it when you call them that,” he mentioned.

“What?” Dan asked.

“My ‘powers’.”

“Well, what do you want me to call them? Your gifts? You abilities?”

Phil shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Dan nodded, sensing another opportunity to work on his communication and interpersonal relationships. “Well, that’s okay. I’ll try to avoid calling them that from now on, and maybe in the meantime, we can, or you can, think of an alternative thing to call them by.”

Phil shrugged again and pulled the plate with his half-eaten pizza slice back to take another stab at it.

“I don’t like feeling like this,” he mentioned casually. 

Dan nodded. “I’m sure. I can’t tell what you’re feeling or what you’re going through but I can see how much it’s taking a toll on you.”

“I’m worried I’m going to take it out on you and Jake,” Phil admitted, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“We understand. We’re on your side, Phil. We have your back.”

*-*-*-*-*

Phil’s alarm went off at 6:30 the next morning. He didn’t know if breakfast would be here or on the way to the air strip, but either way, he really needed to pee, and should probably brush his teeth.

Phil rooted around in his duffle bag for his toiletries pouch and made his way to the bathroom down the hall.

He was tired from the night before. He’d been worried about falling asleep and having another nightmare, so he’d stayed awake as long as he could before finally succumbing to sleep. Before that, though, he’d stared at the walls, stared out the window, stared at his phone screen… he’d wanted some fresh air and to go outside, but he knew with his horrible sense of direction he’d get lost trying to find the dorm rooms again, so he’d settled for a comfy arm chair like the one he sat in back at his apartment by an open window. It’d been a full moon on a mostly cloudless night, and it’d lit up his room in beautiful hues. He stared at the wall separating the room he was staying in and the one Dan’d had during his time training here, willing Dan to come over and talk to him, but he hadn’t.

Now, they were packing up their things and heading off towards the company car.

The three of them threw their duffle bags in the back. Jake climbed in behind the wheel, and though Phil totally expected it, it made his heart drop when Dan took the passenger seat beside Jake, leaving Phil to sit in the back by himself.

Phil pulled out his earbuds and turned on some music.

“Is he alright?” he heard Jake ask as they started to pull away from Quantico.

“Yeah, he just does that,” Dan explained.

Phil turned his music up a little louder.

*-*-*-*-*

The ride to the air strip was a short one. Phil couldn’t help but be grateful that they were flying. The idea of a two-day car trip in the back seat with Jake and Dan in the front sounded all sorts of awkward that Phil wasn’t looking forward to.

They’d be flying to an airstrip about an hour out from the camp itself and a little less than an hour from where local law enforcement had set up their base in one of the bigger police headquarters. There’d be a car to meet them at the airstrip and drive them first to meet up with Texas Bureau of Investigation officials working in the headquarters where they’d get established before being driven over to the scene.

Breakfast, as it turns out, was served on the FBI jet. There was an assortment of bagels, muffins, fruit, and more. Phil felt very out of place in his every-day clothes on what, to him, felt like a very fancy jet. It was like something straight out of one of those crime investigation shows they aired on TV. 

Of course, the first time Phil had been in a helicopter was when they’d helicoptered him and Dan over to the medical base, if it could be called that, last year. Phil was experiencing a lot of new things lately. His life had really taken a different direction than he ever expected. He was glad, though. He wanted to be able to use his intuitions to help people, and he hoped this way he would be able to do it on a larger scale than on his own. And if he didn’t cause the death of these kids, then maybe he could even help solve their murders.

Phil had debated whether or not to bring some of his tools with him, but he didn’t want to look even more ridiculous than he figured he would already feel. Besides, if he was right, the souls of murdered kids probably wouldn’t be that hard to reach out to and contact. Wasn’t it the stereotype that all unsolved murder victims to want to reach out and help solve their case so they could rest in peace? Phil felt that was true, at least in the case of his brother Martyn. Martyn had moved on to whatever the “other side” was, and Phil wasn’t able to contact him again. He missed his brother, but he liked to believe Martyn was in a better place than he would be if he was still stuck here with Phil. Phil was willing to trade not being able to talk to his brother again if it meant he was someplace better, wherever that may be.

Phil was nibbling on a muffin, trying very hard not to let any crumbs spill onto the carpet. There were already faint stains here and there, but he didn’t want to add to it.

Dan came and sat down next to him and Jake sat at a bench seat with a table across from them.

“Do you want to go over the case before we arrive?” Jake asked.

Dan looked to Phil but Phil shook his head.

“That’s fine. The flight should be just under three hours. We have WiFi here if you want the password. Should be long enough to watch a movie or something if you want.”

“Thanks,” Phil mumbled and went back to carefully eating his muffin.

If anything, Phil was hoping to catch some more sleep. Since the nightmare he’d had two nights ago, leading into the lunch with Dan where they left for the long drive to Quantico shortly after directly to a meeting with a bunch of men in suits Phil had never met, only to try and stay up as late as he could, afraid to go to sleep the night before, he was exhausted.

As if sensing this, Dan got up and moved to sit near Jake.

“You can lay down and take a nap if you want, Phil. I’ll take a look over the case with Jake while you do.”

The thought of being left out stung a bit, but it was better than looking over the casefile and seeing all those dead bodies- the dead bodies of people who had been his friends- or so it felt like, at least- again. Phil finished his muffin and threw the wrapper in the small waste bin under the table Jake and Dan were sitting at and then moved to curl up on the couch he’d been sitting on before.

Jake reached up behind him and pulled the shade down over the jet window to dim the room as much as he could to try and help Phil sleep. Phil appreciated it, but didn’t say anything. He put his earbuds in, turned on some music, and was asleep within minutes.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil woke up to a hand shaking him gently. When his eyes fluttered open they landed on Dan’s softly chiseled face.

“We’re almost there,” was all he said before moving back to sit down next to Jake.

The feeling of Dan’s hand on his upper arm lingered like it always did. Phil sat up, rubbing it absentmindedly. He noticed Dan glance over briefly and sheepishly stopped.

Phil pulled out his phone and checked what song was playing. It was a band he wasn’t familiar with, but the song was good, so he liked it before clicking his phone shut and slipping it back into his pocket. He let the song finish before pressing the pause button on his earbuds and gently pulling them out of his ears.

“There’ll be a car to meet us there when we land,” Jake reiterated, “and then we’ll drive over to the office. From there some local officers will take us out to the crime scene. It’s a bit of a ways away from civilization, so it’ll be a bit of a ride as well. Now, I’ve tried my best to get the point across that we’re just interested in checking out the crime because it’s, well, interesting: aka that we’re not trying to step on any toes. I’m not sure how well that’s come across, though, so it’s going to be a bit of a delicate situation until we get settled in and know for sure. I’ll handle the talking.”

Jake looked at Dan and then Phil squarely with a nod.

“I’m going to use the bathroom before we land,” Dan announced, and got up to step away.

When Dan was locked away in the bathroom Phil turned his gaze from the bathroom door to Jake.

“Did you tell the local officers anything about me?” he asked.

Jake made a so-so motion with his hand.

“I told them that we have someone with an out-of-the-box way of looking at things who wanted to take a look around. Of course, they asked me directly if it was a psychic. I had no choice but to be honest and say yes. Unless, of course, there’s another term you prefer to use?”

“No, psychic, medium, both work. I just default to psychic.”

Jake nodded.

“I’m sorry. You must really be putting your reputation out on the line to support bringing in someone like me.”

Jake waved a hand in dismissal and shook his head. 

“Any favor to Dan.”

Before Phil could ask about anything else Dan unlocked the jet bathroom door and exited.

As he was walking back to his seat the pilot made an announcement about their landing and a request that the three of them remain seated during the landing process. Dan took his seat and they started their downward descent.

Phil looked out the window as they started to land, watching the fields and houses and streets and trees come into clearer and clearer focus until they were flying over and empty expanse with just a few buildings here and there. 

“Did you ever think we’d be back so soon?” Phil turned to Dan and asked.

Dan started to gather up his things and shook his head.

“Never in a million years.”

*-*-*-*-*

Phil shouldered his overnight bag and carefully made his way down the steep and large steps that folded up into the jet’s door. 

He had taken off the sweatshirt he’d worn that day and shoved it in his bag before they landed, tucking his trusty earbuds safely into the back pocket of his jeans.

Phil threw his bag into the SUV’s large trunk area before climbing in behind the driver. Dan climbed in next to him while Jake rode shotgun. 

“What a case!” Phil heard the driver say to Jake. He’d been part of the way of putting his earbuds in but decided to hold out. He was curious how much the driver knew about the case. Backtracking, Phil wound his earbuds around his fingertips and slipped them back into his pocket while listening to the conversation happening up front.

“You bet,” Jake had replied.

“Think you’re going to find anything the locals don’t?” The driver asked.

Jake shrugged. “We’ll see,” he replied casually. 

“What’s your angle?” The driver asked. Phil felt his heart in his chest.

Jake shook his head. “I’m keeping that one under wraps.”

The driver nodded with a knowing chuckle and the conversation switched topic. Phil hadn’t even realized he’d been leaning forward in his seat until he exhaled and leaned back.

“Jake’s a good guy,” Dan said to him, low enough that they couldn’t hear up front. “He’s got your back.”

Phil looked back at Dan.

“What about you?”

Dan blinked at the question. “O-of course I have your back Phil,” he responded, stumbling on his words. Phil could feel the pained emotions radiating off Dan and he realized he’d fucked up. “We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Dan turned to look out the window, ignoring Phil for the rest of the ride.

*-*-*-*-*

They drove through heavily forested areas, something that didn’t remind Phil of the last time they’d been here at all. He’d never imagined Texas as a state with so much forests, but here they were.

San Antonio was a large city, most notable for the San Antonio river walk and The Alamo. 

Phil watched in awe out the windows as they navigated the busy city streets. 

Finally they pulled into the police station.

The line of squad cars all read “San Antonio Police” with “Protecting The Alamo City” underneath in smaller letters on them.

They piled out of the car and grabbed their bags. 

“I hope y'all will have some time to do some sight-seeing while you’re here!” Their driver called out as a farewell. They waved him off together and all turned to face the police headquarters.

“Just remember to let me do the talking,” Jake reminded them as they headed inside.

The inside of the police headquarters was large and modern. It was certainly a far cry from the police station that Dan had worked out of. A bigger city meant more money, though, of course. 

Phil followed Jake and Dan to the front desk where the receptionist was typing away on her keyboard while cradling a phone in the crook of her neck.

She glanced up at them briefly as they approached before turning her eyes back to her screen.

“Yup, I have that here. And will that be all for you today? Alright, you have a good one now. You too. Thanks. Buh-bye.”

She reached up from her keyboard to place the phone back in it’s cradle.

“How can I help you today?” she smiled, turning her attention to the three of them.

“We’re from the FBI, we’re here to consult on your case,” Jake mentioned.

“Of course,” she smiled. “And do you have ID?”

Phil had a card in his wallet the FBI had issued him as an FBI consultant, and Dan had a card saying he was a Quantico Trainee. Jake, of course, had his FBI badge and Identification in it’s own little wallet, like the ones they had on TV.

The receptionist took each of them and scanned them into her computer system before handing them back.

“Perfect, thank you! They’ll be expecting you up on the second floor. Just head this way behind me down the hall and there’ll be an elevator on your right. From there you’ll keep going down the hall to your right to conference room two-oh-five. Just give a knock and they should let you in.”

“Great, thank you, have a great day,” Jake smiled, and led them towards the elevator in the hallway.

He turned to Dan and Phil as they waited for the elevator to arrive. 

“You’re doing great so far,” he smiled at them. Considering Phil hadn’t actually done anything, he wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not.

The elevator arrived and Phil, being the last one in line, ended up being the one facing the doors once they were inside and the one pressing the button to close the doors and head up.

Finally, something useful, he thought to himself.

He could sense a nervousness behind Jake’s confident facade, but it didn’t seem to be slowing him down for a second. Phil wondered if it was all that FBI training or if Jake was just naturally like that. It was impressive either way. A part of Phil had always been ashamed of how openly emotional and heart-on-his-sleeve he could be. Martyn had always told him it was admirable, though, and he’d tried his best to believe him. That was before Phil’s emotions had led him to become a literal ticking time bomb, though. Briefly, he wondered if he could get so upset that he could obliterate himself. Emotional self-destruct. Phil’s focus turned back towards the matters at hand when the elevator slowed, and with a ding, opened the doors.

“Smile and act confident,” Jake encouraged under his breath as they exited the elevator. “You have every right to be here.”

Phil appreciated the message. He made sure his shoulders were back and to walk tall and confidently. His outfit could have probably used some improvement, but it didn’t matter. He knew Jake was right. He deserved to be here. More than anyone else, in fact.

With his newly held confidence Phil allowed himself to be the one to knock on the door, taking a step back so they could swing it open.

A police officer got up from the conference table he’d been sitting at with some coworkers and pulled open the frosted door.

“Why hello! You must be the blokes from the FBI! I’m Officer Maxwell! Come on in!”

A large man with a deep voice held the door open for the three to enter. He had red hair both on top of his head and on his face. His uniform looked like it was stretched to the limits, as if the seams were about to burst at any moment and buttons would come flying off and ricochet off the walls. He waddled back to the conference table and resumed his seat. 

“This here’s Officer Jackson and Officer White.”

Officer Jackson was an older looking man with heavily tanned skin in a sheriff’s-style hat and Officer White was a beautiful woman with deep brown skin and two perfectly manicured braids running from her hairline to the small of her back.

“We have a team of detectives on scene, we’re just holding down the fort for them,” she smiled, her voice exuding a rich South African accent. 

Jake held up his briefcase. “Do you mind if we take a look at what you have so far and compare notes?” 

Officer White smiled and gestured towards the empty seats at the table. 

Jake moved to place his overnight bag by the wall of the conference room out of the way, so Phil and Dan followed suit. 

They took a row of three seats at the side of the conference table, Jake placing his briefcase with the files he’d taken with him on the empty rolling chair to his right.

“My name’s Special Agent Hall, and this is Detective Howell and Mr. Lester,” Jake introduce. Phil hadn’t realized up until this point he hadn’t heard Jake’s last name. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Your angle was that you were bringing in a psychic on the case?” Officer Maxwell asked, focusing his gaze on Phil. Jake nodded, bringing his attention back to him.

“Yes, Phil here is an on-call psychic for the FBI. He’s worked one case with Dan so far, but when he heard the case on the news and saw there wasn’t a lot of evidence to go on, he figured he could be of some help. We’re not looking to step on any toes, though. Whatever you want to share with us will be left up to your discretion. We just want to take a look and see if we can offer a new angle.”

Officer Maxwell was nodding, and when Jake finished with his pitch, he turned his attention back to Phil.

“So, how does this whole thing work, then? Do you see dead people?” Phil could tell the guy was trying to be sincere, but the words still came off as abrasive to him. 

“I prefer to call them ghosts,” Phil mentioned, ignoring the quoted movie line, intentional or not, “and yes, I communicate with them.” Jake had said to be confident, so Phil was trying to stand up for himself.

Officer Maxwell nodded. “Well, if you meet any of those poor kids out there, you tell them that we’re doing the best to catch the bastard who did this to them.”

Phil smiled, feeling accepted. Even if there were feelings of doubt around the room, there was no hostility.

“Yes, sir, I intend to do just that,” Phil reassured him.

“Well then, I think we’ll get along just fine.”

*-*-*-*-*

Phil listened and even chimed in from time to time while the six of them got to know each other as they compared notes and poured over the case file. The local police had information that of course the FBI hadn’t been able to get on short-notice, like a map of the camp and stills from the crime scene. 

“Our boys in white will be out there on scene too. They’ve hardly left since this whole thing went down. Real dedicated, that team there is. Some of the best, in my opinion.”

Phil nodded. The crime scene techs at the secret lab had been kind to him, and that experience had given him a hands-on perspective of their jobs and a new respect for them that he knew he’d only gotten by being there in the trenches, so to speak, with them.

“We’ll be glad to have their trained eyes help us on the scene,” Jake assured.

Officer Maxwell turned to Phil.

“Do you think you can tell us anything off these photos?”

Phil didn’t need the photos to tell them almost everything they needed to know, but he took them anyway. He stared down at the lifeless bodies of Becky, Suzie, Jessy, and Tyler, his friends in another world, as they lay there, bloody, cold, stiff, and dead. And of course, two more boys that Phil hadn’t met in his dreams. He focused on what he did know, shuffling the photos in order.

“This girl, Becky. She was the first to die. Two of the boys by the fireside heard her scream, and went running. One of them checked her pulse. That’s why the smear of blood is there on her wrist. He got blood on her when he touched her, which alerted him to the fact she was injured, but when he checked for a pulse, he found she was already gone.”

Phil flipped to the next photo.

“The boys then met up with Tyler and Suzie in the main hall. From there one of them went with Tyler to go look for Louise and Jessy. They found Louise dead in the cabins, and then went to search for Jessy.”

Phil flipped to the next photo.

“They found Jessy dead in the tool shed. When they ran back to the main hall they found Suzie and Marco dead.”

Phil flipped through the photos of Suzie and the boy who had been Dan in his dream, a boy named Marco. Phil gazed down at the boy’s face. There was a resemblance. The boy’s skin was a bit darker than Dan’s, but the brown hair and doe-like brown eyes were a fit.

“From there they encountered the killer. They split up. Tyler tried to escape by driving away, but he was killed at Louise’s car. The last boy,” Phil flipped to a photo of the boy he’d been in his dream, Dominic, “took a canoe out to the middle of the lake, thinking he could see someone coming from any side. And yet he didn’t make it.”

Phil put the photos down on the table. The room was silent for a moment. Phil felt a knee nudge against his. Phil used the connection to draw from Dan’s stoicism. 

“That’s a lot to pick up from just some photos,” Officer White remarked.

Phil shrugged.

“How did Dominic die, then?” Officer Maxwell asked.

Phil picked up the picture of the boy he’d been in his dream and stared at it.

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” Phil said. “I intend to ask him if we meet.”

Jake gently removed the crime scene photo from Phil’s hand and shuffled it in with the rest of them. “What are we waiting for, then?” he asked. 

*-*-*-*-*

Officer Maxwell drove a squad car with Dan and Phil in the back while Jake sat in the passenger seat. Officer Jackson drove behind them in a squad car with Officer White riding shotgun.

“What happened to holding down the fort?” Jake asked as they drove.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I’d like to take a look at the crime scene myself with the new insight your bright young man here has provided, and I’m sure it’s the same for the others,” Officer Maxwell confessed.

Phil glanced away.

“I’d be interested to know what he can pick up from the crime scene itself if he can get all that from some photos.”

“Indeed.” Jake glanced Phil’s way, and Phil felt he was going to have some explaining to do later. For now, however, it was between a twenty minute and half an hour drive over to the camp-turned-crime-scene.

Phil turned his head to look over at Dan in the other side of the back seat, and he returned the gesture.

“What if I can’t help find who did this?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head.

“You’re giving them more information. Anything you can provide is helpful, Phil. No one’s expecting you to solve the case. That’s their job. We’re just here to help.”

“That’s right,” Officer Maxwell chimed in from the front of the car.

They drove down a dirt road, clouds of dust flying up in the air around the car as the tires churned out the dry dirt. A sign on the right hand of the road read “Camp Crystal Lake”. Phil fought the urge to reach out and draw strength from Dan. He needed to learn how to hold his own.

They drove until they came to the parking lot that Tyler had been killed in. Louise’s car was still there, and when they exited the squad car and walked by, Phil could see smears of blood along the driver’s side doors. 

He quickly turned his field of vision away.

They walked up the far set of stairs to the main hall, avoiding where Dan’s body- Marco’s body- had lain. There were still small plastic tents with numbers lined up on the stairs around a dried pool of blood. The stairwell itself  had been tied off with crime scene caution tape.

Inside the main hall was almost just at Phil had remembered, however there were things here and there from the detectives scattered about. A map on a side table. Packages of what looked like blue crime scene booties by the door. A travel mug of coffee on the mantle. 

In the kitchen area members of the crime scene crew sat once again at the kitchen table. The mugs of hot chocolate left behind by the campers before their untimely demise had been dumped out and moved to the counter area behind them. In their place were two matching mugs filled with coffee.

“You must be the blokes from the FBI,” one of the men said. He reached out a hand across the table and Jake, Phil, and Dan took turns shaking it.

“The name’s Harry.”

The other crime scene investigator did the same.

“Name’s Carson.”

The three of them shook Carson’s hand as well.

An officer appeared in the doorway they’d just come through.

“Howdy, Detective Waters,” Officer Maxwell greeted.

Detective Waters nodded back and shook their hands as well.

“Well, if you boys are ready,” Detective Waters glanced over at Harry and Carson, “then we’ll be on our way to showing these fine young men around.”

Harry took one last swing of the coffee in his mug before placing it back on the table and getting up.

Carson got up and stretched a bit.

The nine of them filed out of the main hall and down the left stairs.

“We’ll start with the first body we found and then work out way from there,” Detective Waters stated.

They followed him up the path until they reached a dark stain surrounded by more crime scene markers.

“This is where we found our fist victim, Becky. She seems to have been running when a machete was thrown at her, striking her in the back and causing her to fall to the ground. It seems like perhaps someone heard her being attacked and came running over to check to see if she was still alive.”

They turned around and went back to the cabin.

“Here is where Marco was killed, on the steps. From what we surmise he was running down the steps out the main hall.”

They walked around the staircase and went back to the kitchen area.

“This is where Suzie was found with a head wound.”

The pantry was cleaned rather well. There was a dark spot on the floor where the blood had soaked in but the bits of her brain had been cleaned off the cans and walls. Phil was thankful he hadn’t seen her body. He didn’t know if he could have handled it in the moment. The picture alone was enough.

They filed back out of the cramped kitchen area and out of the main hall down towards the tool shed.

“This is where Jessy was found. We assume she was attempting to load this shot gun before she was killed.”

Phil remembered finding Jessy laying on the ground. They hadn’t lingered when they’d found her. They’d just left her there.

Phil turned away from the spot of dried blood in the dirt of the tool shed floor surrounded by markers.

They took the path to the cabins, going the opposite way that Dan and Phil, or more accurately Marco and Dominic had taken that night.

Under the bunk bed in the third cabin was another spot of dried blood. From the outside, the cabin looked the same as all the others except for the crime scene tape going across the entry way.

“Here is where Louise died.”

Phil stared at the spot forlornly before following them back out past the tool shed again and down to the beach. If this was the order they were found in, Phil figured there must have been more than one detective on scene finding the bodies. It wasn’t a cohesive route for one person to take to find all the bodies, what with them back tracking past the tool shed to head to the beach.

Phil trudged through the sand, sure it was getting in his sneakers, and gazed upon the canoe that he- Dominic- had died in. It had been pulled to shore and the boy’s body retrieved from it. Even having lived- in a sense- through it, Phil still couldn’t understand how the killer had managed to take them by surprise. He hoped Dominic had more answers than he did.

“We found Dom out in the lake, attacked in a canoe. We’re not quite sure how it happened. The running theory is that someone took a canoe out and caught him by surprise before paddling their way back to shore. Another canoe wasn’t found out anywhere though,” Detective Waters admitted. “They were still all in the shed.” He shook his head and turned to the group.

“Thank you,” Jake replied.

“We’ll give you time to walk around the crime scene on your own. If you need us, we’ll be in the main hall.”

The San Antonio homicide detectives and the crime scene investigators headed back up the trail.

Jake looked at Phil.

“You knew a lot more about this crime scene than you let on,” he said, glancing to Dan as well.

“I was here,” Phil simply stated, “in a dream.”

“You dreamed about the crime?” Jake asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Phil replied. “I was Dom. Dan was Marco. I saw it play out from Dom’s perspective.”

Jake glanced at the canoe then out to the lake.

“Then how did he die?”

Phil shook his head. 

“I don’t know. I remember rowing out to the middle of the lake. It was like I said: my plan was to watch around me and make sure no one was coming. If they were I would simply paddle to the opposite side of the lake. It was a flawless plan. And then I just. I just. Something grabbed the boat. From the lake. Something reached up and grabbed the boat. I slammed down with my paddle but it didn’t do anything. A hand with a machete reached up and cut the paddle in half, so I stabbed the hand holding onto the boat with the splintered paddle and it didn’t do anything. Then the hand with the machete came back down and it… it…” Phil started to tear up. “I looked down at myself and I saw blood. And I looked up into the night sky and I knew I was dying. I closed my eyes looking at the stars and everything went black.” Phil sniffled. “But then I woke up. And Dom, he didn’t wake up.” Phil wiped at his eyes with his sweatshirt sleeve, but as soon as his thoughts caught up to him he started crying even harder. Much to his surprise, Dan moved over and held Phil as he cried. Phil clung on to Dan and pulled from him.

“I hate when you do that,” Dan joked softly.

“You can feel it?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, I can.”

Phil gazed back at Jake.

“I need to talk to Dom. I need to find out if he knows what happened. I need to compare notes or whatever.”

Jake moved to place a hand on Phil.

“I’m sorry, Phil. I didn’t mean…” he trailed off. “I didn’t realize that’s what happened. I understand why you’re so invested now.”

“You believe me?” Phil asked in slight disbelief.

Jake looked over at Dan above Phil’s head. 

“Dan believes you, and that’s enough for me.”

Phil reached up and squeezed Jake’s hand on his shoulder. Jake really wasn’t a bad guy at all. Phil just knew he was jealous over him.

“Thank you. Both of you.”

Dan and Jake stepped away.

“We’ll be over up at the shore,” Dan gestured back towards the trail where the sand met the grass. 

Phil nodded, tears still slowly coming down his face.

Dan and Jake took their leave and Phil walked over to one of the empty canoes on the side of the beach. He climbed inside and sat down on the front bench, facing the back of the boat.

“Dominic?” he asked, reaching out with his mind. “Are you here?”

There was no reply. A part of him regretted not bringing anything with him, but he just felt so awkward about the whole thing. 

“Dominic?”

Phil felt a flicker of something on the back of his neck.

Suddenly a boy appeared in front of him. His hair flopped over his eyes and he wore a black hoodie with black sweatpants. His converse sneakers were laced up in perfect bows.

“Hello.”

“Who are you?” the boy asked.

For once, Phil didn’t know how to answer.

“Well. I’m a psychic, with the FBI. I talk to ghosts. I’m here to help solve your murder.”

“Why?” Dominic asked.

“Because I watched you die, in a dream,” Phil answered honestly.

Dominic glanced away. “Must have been a shitty dream,” he joked dryly.

Phil glanced out towards the water too. “It was.”

Dominic looked back.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“I remember you sitting with Marco by the fire. You were talking. You heard a scream and went running and that’s when you found Becky. You ran up to the cabin to meet up with Suzie and Tyler, and then you and Tyler went to find Louise and Jessy. You found Louise in the cabins and Jessy in the tool shed. When you went back to the main hall you found Marco dead on the steps. You ran back inside the main hall and when you searched you found Suzie dead in the pantry. When you went to leave you saw a masked man at the door, so the both of you ran out the back door. From there he was in the woods, cutting you off from one another. While Tyler ran towards the parking lot you went back through the main hall and out the front door. From there you ran down to the lake and grabbed a canoe and paddled out to the middle of the lake. And from there you…”

“Died. It’s okay, you can say it.”

Phil shrugged, still not wanting to say it.

“I died.”

Phil shook his head. “But how? How did you die?”

“I was stabbed,” Dominic replied. “With a machete.”

“I know, but, how? How? You didn’t see a boat coming. In fact, he wasn’t even in a boat. It was like he just-”

“Melted out of the water? Yeah, I know. I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

They fell silent.

“Dominic, how many killers were there?” Phil asked.

“Would you believe me if I told you I thought it was just the one?” he asked.

Phil nodded. “The police are looking for a group of people,” he told Dominic. Dominic shook his head.

“I dunno, I really think it was just one guy. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can tell you anything you don’t already seem to know. I think the same guy who killed Tyler at his car was the same guy who killed me. I don’t know how he got all the way from the parking lot to the middle of the lake, but I saw him through the window of the front door of the main hall and then I saw him again in the woods. I don’t know how he moved so fast. It was like he was able to teleport. Like some Deadpool shit.”

“Deadpool can teleport?” Phil asked.

Dominic chuckled. “Yeah, you didn’t know that?”

Phil looked at the boy in front of him who’d had his life cut so short.

“How are you?” Phil asked.

Dominic blinked in surprise. “Well, I’m dead. And I’m stuck at this camp. Talk about eternal hell.”

“Do you feel stuck here? Like you can’t move on because of what happened to you?”

Dominic shrugged. “I don’t know. Is that what most people say?” he asked.

“I don’t really know how it all works,” Phil confessed.

“But you’ve talked to other ghosts before?” Dominic asked.

“Yes,” Phil replied. “Lots of them. I’m a psychic by trade. I invite people to my house to talk to their loved ones. They can’t see you like I can, so we use ouija boards and things like that.”

Dominic shook his head. “That sure is something. Have you ever not been able to contact anyone?”

“Not usually,” Phil said. “They come from the other side.”

“The other side of what though?” Dominic asked.

“I don’t know,” Phil repeated.

“Am I there?” he asked.

Phil shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“So am I stuck because my murder is unsolved or something?” Dominic asked.

“Do you feel stuck?” Phil asked again. 

“I don’t know,” Dominic replied again.

“Well, what happened after you, you know?” Phil asked.

“Died?” Dominic asked. He thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember anything after that. But it feels like time has passed.”

“You don’t feel like you belong somewhere else?” Phil asked.

“I don’t really feel like I belong anywhere, and I’m not just saying that because I’m an edgy teen,” Dominic joked. “Shouldn’t you know this? You’re the one that talks to other ghosts.”

“I never really asked,” Phil admitted. “I never asked for this, to be able to talk to ghosts, or anything. But I’ve seen them my whole life. I spent most of my life trying to ignore them, until I realized I had to embrace them. From then on I really only talked to them when I was with a client and reaching out to talk to them for that loved one.”

“Have you talked to anyone else who was murdered?” Dominic asked.

“Yes,” Phil replied. “My brother.”

Dominic nodded. 

“Did you solve his murder?” Dominic asked.

“Yes.”

“And did he… move on?”

“I think so. I haven’t been able to talk to him since.”

“You tried?”

“Yes.”

Dominic looked away.

“Well, if you solve my murder, then fine. If not it’s cool.”

“I’m going to solve it,” Phil insisted.

Dominic shrugged. “It’s okay if you don’t though.”

Phil shook his head but he didn’t say anything.

“Is there anything else you need from me?”

Phil looked away.

“What is it?” Dominic asked.

Phil felt himself turn a bit red.

“I have a question. It’s not about the case though. Is that okay?”

Dominic shrugged.

“I don’t really see why it wouldn’t be. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

Phil tried to gather himself.

“You and Marco… you guys were friends?”

Dominic shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess. I had his Snap. I don’t see why I wouldn’t have snapped him after this when it was all over. I guess I’ll just settle for being ghosts in proximity with him, though. Why?”

Phil hesitated.

“Hey, man. I can keep a secret. Let’s be honest, this is probably the last conversation I’m ever going to have. If you need to get something off your chest, this is the best place to do it. Dead men tell no tales and all that.”

Phil thought for a moment.

“Dominic, I didn’t just watch you die in my dream. I was you.”

Dominic tilted his head in surprise.

“How did that work?” he asked.

“I remember being you, and sitting on the log with Marco- only Marco wasn’t Marco. He was one of the guys over there on the shore.”

Phil didn’t turn to face Dan and Jake, but Domininc did. They, of course, however, couldn’t see that.

“The dude with the leather jacket?” Dominic asked.

“Yes.”

“Who’s he?”

“He’s the cop who helped me solve my brother’s murder.”

Dominic nodded. 

“Alright, so you’re me, and he’s Marco. So, what, then?”

Phil sighed and tried his best to figure out how to explain everything.

“In my dream I was you. I was taking your role. But it was like I had been the one attending camp all summer, and like you didn’t exist. It was me instead. I had all these memories of me and all the other counselors, including Dan.”

“Is Dan that guy over there?” Dominic asked.

“Yes,” Phil confirmed. “Anyway, in my dream, in my memories, Dan and I… we weren’t friends like we are here.”

“Oh. That sucks dude. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Dominic nodded, confused, until Phil saw the sudden realization hit his face. 

“OH. Oh, yeah, no dude, it’s not, I’m not- yeah, no, I have, like, a girl at home and I think Marco does too. Or we did. That was not. No. Sorry. Actually I’m not really sure why I’m apologizing for that.”

“It’s okay,” Phil said, cracking a small smile.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“So, like, basically you had this dream where you guys were camp counselors together who had a thing and one night it all just went horribly wrong?”

“Yeah, and then we went out to lunch the next day and I saw your murder on the news.”

“Damn dude. That’s rough. So like, what’s the sitch now?”

“Besides the fact that I’m venting about my problems to a murdered teenager? Well, uh, yeah, basically what you said. We were work colleagues… friends, I guess. He’s gay, I’m gay. There was nothing there. But, um, yeah, I had a dream where we were a thing, albeit a nightmare, and that morning I woke up both really disturbed from having been murdered-”

“Same.”

“-and feeling really confused on how I actually feel about him, but before I could think about it or figure it out I found out that my dream literally came true in the worst way possible and that took precedence over whatever feelings I had or am having.”

“Murder is such an inconvenience. Truly very sorry. But like, what have you been feeling since then? I mean I got murdered like two days ago.”

“Jealous.”

Dominic looked back over at the shore.

“Because of that guy?” he pointed.

“Yeah.”

“Whose he?”

“That’s Dan’s FBI professor.”

“Damn, so he’s like, hot for teacher?”

“I don’t know, but I swear to God he thinks the sun shines out of Jake’s ass.”

“Ah. Jake. What a douchey name.”

Phil couldn’t help but chuckle.

“In order to get on this case I had Dan reach out to Jake. He’s the one who set it all up so I could be here working on the case.”

“Well, in that case, I’m sure he’s not too bad. I, for one, am grateful you’re here, whoever you are. Nice to talk to someone one last time after death, even if it is going over the most traumatic experience of my life which culminated in my death and then giving a 30-year-old relationship advice in the canoe we both literally got murdered in. Well, I literally got murdered in. You figuratively got murdered in.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you envisioned the afterlife.”

“Can’t say as I really envisioned it at all, especially because I wasn’t planning on dying at sixteen, so I can’t really say that it comes as a shock or anything.”

Phil shrugged.

“Well, all I can say is that if you decide that you really do have feelings for him, you should tell him.”

“I don’t think he’d take it well.”

Dominic sighed.

“I think you’re missing the point. I died at sixteen. I had so much life left to live and it was cut short. I’m never going to see my family again. I’m never going to see my girlfriend again. I’m never going to see my dog again.

There’s so much more to life than what we’re facing in the moment. Learn from me. You never know what’s going to happen. Look at your brother. Look at me.

You can’t live with things unsaid because you’re never going to know when things are going to end. And apparently, even when you do, there’s nothing you can do about it.

I’m not saying your feelings are real, especially because they came from some sort of murder premonition dream, but if they are, and you really feel this way, you need to say or do something sooner rather than later, before it’s too late. Not even in a death sense, but in a way where maybe he does hook up with that guy or anyone else.”

Dominic looked sad and angry.

“If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for me at least. After all, how can you say no to a murdered child?” Dominic managed a wry smile.

Phil felt tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Dominic. Your murder comes first, either way.”

Dominic shook his head. “No, dude. I’m dead. Don’t let my murder get in the way of you living your life.”

Phil nodded.

“I’m assuming I’m going to be viewing your body,” Phil said, switching morbid subjects. “Is there anything you… need. Want?”

Dominic shrugged. “To be honest I didn’t really think about it.”

“I doubt they’ll let me see your family, but is there any message I can pass along to them through the detectives?”

Dominic shook his head.

“I doubt they’ll believe anyone who says that I told them to say ‘I love you’ or anything like that, but…” he hesitated for a second. “Can you… can you just give my dog a treat for me? Please?”

The tears in Phil’s eyes fell to his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “And if I can’t I’ll have one of the detectives do it, okay?”

Dominic nodded, tears in his own eyes.

“I’ll come back and see you,” Phil promised.

Dominic smiled. “I’d appreciate that. Let me know how things go with wonder boy.”

Phil smiled and chuckled.

“What’s your name?”

“Phil. Phil Lester.”

“It’s been an honor, Phil Lester. Thank you, and good luck solving my- our- murder.”

Phil bolted upright with a gasp. His breathing was heavy and he was drenched in sweat. The nightmare he’d just had was still fresh in his mind. Throwing the bed sheet off the upper part of his body he grabbed an errant notebook and pen on his night stand he used to write the things down that he’d remember while trying to fall asleep and started jotting down his whole dream. It took him about five pages and twenty minutes to recount everything he’d remembered. Sighing, he flipped through everything he’d just written before closing up the spiral notebook and placing it back on the nightstand with the pen. He picked his phone up and checked the time. It was a little after seven.

The nightmare certainly hadn’t left him feeling refreshed in any way, but more pressing was his bladder. Phil rubbed his eyes, trying to psych himself up to get out of bed and head down the hall to the bathroom.

He pulled the bed sheet of the rest of his lower body and swung his feet to the floor. He had a moment of deja vu, remembering almost a year ago when he’d woken up in this very same bed to the voice of what he now knew was his older brother’s ghost in his head. He took a moment to reflect on that moment and how much his life had changed since. First of all, he’d learned his brother was in fact dead and murdered. He’d learned about what his brother had been working on for years, a project that entailed compiling information on a malicious corporation of philanthropists and scientists looking to profit off a cure for cancer by any means necessary, including testing their experimental drugs on people in a trial-and-error method. Phil knew this would have gone on, leaving a trail of bodies behind, if Martyn hadn’t reached out to him in death and Phil hadn’t reported his murder to the local police, where he met Detective Howell, who he now knew as Dan. He knew they would have continued on like this if he and Dan hadn’t traveled all across southern-central and eastern North America tracking down leads like Dan’s missing, and now dead, father, who’d been kidnapped from the hospital where the company ran their first drug trial. In fact, the FBI had felt like the both of them had done such a bang-up job in uncovering this plot and bringing it to the attention of everyone, including being boots-down at ground zero when the siege took place that they’d offered Dan a position as an FBI agent and Phil an official position as an FBI psychic consultant, both stationed out of the Boston field office. And both had said yes.

As Phil stumbled blearily out the bedroom and down the hall towards the bathroom, he remembered he’d made lunch plans with Dan that afternoon. Dan, who had been in his dream. In fact, Dan was the only person he’d recognized in his dream. He was mildly impressed that he’d been able to make such a compelling dream narrative. The characters were engaging, the plot was fit for a movie, and the whole thing just felt so… real. 

By the time Phil made it to the bathroom he was able to smile at himself in the mirror, though, he still felt and looked like shit. And his throat was sore, and his chest hurt. But other than that, and being exhausted, he felt fine. Certainly not like someone who had just been brutally murdered.

The fear he’d felt had been real and palpable, though. Phil still had residual emotions floating around inside him as he exited the bathroom and crawled back into bed.

A year ago he’d have been up and baking for the coming week for his psychic-slash-bakery business, but since starting an official FBI consulting positon, he’d had to allocate some of that time to taking proper courses and training. Nothing to the level Dan had, though. The bureau had sent him to Quantico for training, where he’d been for the past six months. In fact, this lunch was the first time that Phil would see Dan since he left.

Before Dan had left for Quantico he’d been over at Phil’s apartment when he’d received the call of his mother finally passing. Phil had driven down and back with Dan for the funeral. Things had been emotionally fraught during that time. They got along well enough, but there was tension reminiscent of when they’d first met that hung between them. Phil wasn’t really sure what to expect over lunch, but whatever it was he expected to feel it two-fold. Compliments of his psychic nature.

Phil flopped back into his bed and pulled his phone towards him once more. He set an alarm for ten before placing the phone back on top of the notebook containing all the details of his dream and rolling over to go back to sleep.

*-*-*-*-*

Phil’s alarm lulled him into consciousness. Gone was the heavy breathing and beads of sweat running down the back of his neck, and instead he felt rested, awake, and ready for the day. 

Phil was meeting Dan for lunch at exactly noon at a chain cafe restaurant a few towns over. He was aiming to leave by 11:30, which gave him an hour and a half to get ready. By the time he was showered and dressed it was a little past 10:30, leaving him almost an hour to read the latest book he’d borrowed from the local library, where he was a regular. He settled down on the armchair in his crowded living room, which was still filled with a large fireplace, a table for seances, shelves filled with books and spiritual memorabilia, and so much more. The kitchen lurked behind an island counter that separated the two areas by the front door. It felt strange not to be in there with the lights on and the oven going, but Phil was slowly getting used to it.

Phil shifted his attention back to the book in his hands, trying his best to immerse himself in a fantasy world for just a short time before he’d have to drag himself out into the real world, where the consequences of his feelings and actions mattered, much like the characters in the novel he was reading’s world did. The book was something about a prince that’d been lost during a raid on the castle and a servant boy who’d helped him escape long ago, and when the servant boy grew up he started looking for the prince he’d helped escaped long ago. It was a much more pleasant story than his nightmare had been.

After a few chapters Phil glanced at the clock and with a sigh and a small smile, closing the book and setting it down on the nightstand by the large armchair. He gripped the sides of the chair to help pull himself up from the depths of the cushions. Once on his feet, he padded quietly across the carpet until he reached where the floor turned into hardwood. His shoes were on a small mat next to the door and, balancing on one leg, then the other, he slipped them on. He grabbed his car keys and wallet from a shelf with hooks hanging above the shoe mat and headed outside, locking the front door behind him.

The sun was strong and bright in Phil’s eyes, and he threw a hand up in front of his face as he navigated his way over to the car. He gave the key fob in his hand a double-click and heard his car unlock with a little electronic chirp and pulled the door open. He threw his keys on the passenger seat to climb down in, closing the driver’s side door once he was inside. He grabbed the keys off the seat and pushed the key into it’s ignition, and, with his foot on the break, started up the car.

The ride over to the cafe was a nice enough drive, and one Phil was rather familiar with at this point. He left the windows open as he drove, catching the fresh August breeze as it whipped his hair into a bit of a frenzy. He didn’t mind though. The rush of warm air felt good on his face.

When he exited the car, he felt the sun kiss the exposed skin of his face and arms. He flexed his fingers outwards almost instinctively, as if trying to maximize his surface area to soak as much of the sun up as he could before winter would come all too soon, or as if he were about to reach up towards the heavens themselves. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes, taking everything in. Then he started walking across the street towards the cafe.

Phil looked around the outdoor seating before heading in. He hadn’t spotted Dan outside.

Once inside, the greeter took Phil towards a table that faced a wall with a TV that played the news quietly. Phil glanced up at it briefly before shifting his attention to those around him. Phil could never help but to wonder what people in a restaurant around him were doing. He had a better idea than most. It was easy to see families and client meetings and things of that nature. And reading their facial expressions, even from a distance, was easy enough. But it was more than that.

He could see a couple two tables over that looked like they were on a first date. He could feel their nervous attraction when he focused in on them. 

He could see a child eating a plate of pasta, and feel the enthusiasm that oozed from her at having such a delicious meal.

He could see a girl just a few years younger than him nervously meeting with an older man in a more formal attire than most here, and he figured she was perhaps interviewing for a job.

Phil’s abilities had gotten stronger while trying to hunt down the people who had killed his brother, but so had Phil. When it came to the every day things, like sitting in a restaurant, or going shopping at the grocery store, Phil finally, for the first time in his life, felt like he had a handle on things. And, he noticed, now that he wasn’t put in as many life-threatening or emotionally harrowing situations, his outburst of energy were nonexistent. Eventually Phil wanted to work on trying to draw from that well deep within him and use his newfound abilities in a casual, day-to-day setting. He wondered if he could, perhaps, do the dishes with just his mind, or something. He’d tried, here and there, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to put the full effort in yet. He had all the time in the world, he figured, to figure himself out. There was no rush.

Lost in his thoughts, making a lazy attempt to raise the fork by his plate without his hands, he hardly noticed Dan walk into his vision and take the seat in front of him. What he did notice, however, was the fork just slightly off-center. He casually moved it back into place like nothing had happened.

“Hey,” Dan grinned. He seemed… happy.

“Hey,” Phil smiled back nervously.

“How’ve you been?”

Phi; shrugged, still smiling. “‘Bout the same as last time we saw each other. How’re you doing?”

“Great,” Dan nodded, that grin still plastered across his face. Phil had never seen Dan like this. It was a nice change.

“I can tell,” Phil observed.

Dan seem to pick up on the open-ended question Phil left in the air,but ignored it, instead gesturing to his menu.

“Have you taken a look?”

Phil waved a hand in the air. “No, I haven’t, but I already really know what I like here. Just a matter of deciding what I want.”

Dan grabbed his menu and held it at an angle he could read it and still talk to Phil over the top.

“How’s the business been?” He asked.

Phil glanced down at his own menu, picking it up and opening up the front cover.

“Good, actually, all things considered with cutting my days down and such.”

“How’s that working out for you?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded as he spoke, as if reaffirming with himself. “It’s going fine. It’s nice to have more free time, but I do miss being kept as busy as I used to be.”

“How’s the FBI training going?” Dan asked. 

“Pretty well, thanks. Don’t really know if what I’m learning will be of any use, but it’s something different at any rate. How about you?”

Dan put down his menu as if he’d been waiting to talk about this very thing.

“It’s going great. My instructor is amazing. He says I have real potential.”

Phil nodded enthusiastically.

“He’s so awesome. It’s honestly an honor to be working with him. I think I’m on track to being the top student in my class.”

“That’s great, Dan!” He looked back down at the menu, but it seemed as if Dan wasn’t finished.

“He’s done a lot of cool stuff already and he’s only a bit older than me.”

Phil tilted his head a bit. He was a bit older than Dan. Had he not done a lot of cool stuff? I mean, he literally had magic powers or whatever. Superpowers. He was like. A superhero. 

Phil’s smile tightened just a bit and he nodded again to show support.

“It’s great, it’s just really great…” Dan trailed off and looked back down at his menu. Phil shuffled his feet under the table as he stared at the menu. He felt the waiter approaching their table before he saw her.

“Can I get you guys any drinks to start off with today?” she asked, pulling out two cups and pouring them each a glass of water.

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade,” Phil smiled politely up at her as she placed his glass in front of him.

The waitress turned to Dan as she filled his glass.

“I’ll have a coffee, black, please,” He replied politely but curtly. 

She gave a nod as she scribbled in her little book, placing the pitcher down on the table to do so.

“Aaaalright, and have we had time to look at the menu?”

No, because Dan was talking the whole time, Phil thought to himself instantly. He pushed that thought away immediately, though. It was nice to have Dan happy and chipper. And they weren’t fighting. He was glad that Dan was happy. Maybe some of that happiness would be directed at Phil.

“I’ll have a plain cheese pizza, small, please,” Phil ordered without really thinking about it.

The waitress turned to Dan.

“I’ll have a small pizza with mushrooms and peppers,” Dan smiled.

“Alright, I’ll have those drinks out to you shortly,” the waitress collected the menus from them as Phil glanced at Dan.

“I thought you didn’t like peppers?”

“I don’t, but Jake had me try some on pizza one night, and it was actually pretty good.”

“Whose Jake?” Phil tried to ignore whatever pang of jealousy he was feeling in his chest.

“My instructor.”

“You and him seem really close,” Phil probed, hating himself for it. What did it matter? It’s not like he and Dan were partners or anything. They just both knew each other from a case they had worked on together before and were now both in the FBI because of it. They weren’t really friends. Dan had only really invited Phil to his mom’s funeral because Phil was there when Dan had gotten the call that she had passed, and Dan’s mom had liked him. Maybe it was because Phil didn’t feel like he had any other friends.

“I wouldn’t say we’re like, super close or anything, but we hang out outside of class sometimes,” Dan explained, oblivious to how Phil was feeling. For once Phil wished the roles were reversed and Dan could feel how much he was hurting. Being able to feel how Dan felt about his instructor made it all the worse for Phil. He wished he could just shut it off.

“And not everyone in your class does that,” Phil clarified, pushing himself deeper and deeper into the hole he was digging himself.

“Well, no, it’s just me. So, I don’t know, maybe we are close.”

Phil’s grip on his glass tightened as he drank. At least I haven’t shattered it,” Phil thought to himself. Yet, added the negative voice in his head.

Phil ignored what looked like cracks in the glass.

Thankfully at that moment the waitress returned with Phil’s lemonade and Dan’s coffee.

Phil could smell the richness coming off Dan’s coffee and it reminded him of long drives in the car with Dan over last year. He yearned for that now. A part of him wanted to ask Dan if they could run away from all of this together, start over in a new town, make new friends they had together and shared, and maybe found someone they could fall in love with…

Or maybe Dan had already found someone like that for himself and Phil was the one left standing holding the bouquet at the end of the wedding, waiting to find his own Prince Charming.

“What’s the matter?”

Phil looked up from his glass.

“Hmm?”

Dan smirked, cocking his head. 

“I know that look. What’s on your mind?”

“My own thoughts, for once, instead of other people’s.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting?” Dan asked.

Phil tilted his head from side to side in contemplation.

“Yes, it is. I didn’t realize how loud and painful my own thoughts and emotions could be, though.”

Dan reached over and grabbed Phil’s hand, something he never would have done a year ago. Phil nearly recoiled in shock.

“Tell me, Phil, what’s wrong.”

Phil opened his mouth to start saying something, anything, when the TV news caught his attention.

“Thanks, Gene. It happened here late last night: seven mutilated bodies found strewn about the 300 acre Texas campground behind me. An idyllic summer setting turned to tragedy a mere 24 hours after children went home for the season. Authorities are baffled by the lack of leads, having recovered only a machete with no discernable finger prints. Reporting live from San Antonio, I’m Roy Merkin. Back to you, Gene.”

The camera panned to blurred out images of dead bodies in a forest Phil recognized all too well.

Phil yanked his hand back.

“Oh my god.”

“Phil?”

Dan turned to look at the television screen behind him.

“What is it Phil?”

“Those kids…”

Dan turned back to look at Phil.

Philip (Phil) stood between fellow counselors Daniel (Dan) and Suzan (Suzie) as the seven of them waved off the buses full of the kids they’d had all summer.

“I’m going to miss them,” Jessica (Jessy) teared up, waving goodbye.

“Good riddance if you ask me.” The smile on Rebecca (Becky)’s face was plastered on.

Phil turned to see Dan’s reaction, but Dan just turned to face him and shrugged, smiling.

Once the buses were out of sight they all turned to make their way back to the main cabin.

It was a Friday, August 13th, and they had the rest of the afternoon to make sure that the camp was closed down for the season: everything put back where it belonged, no perishable food in the pantry, cabins cleaned, outdoor equipment stored for the winter, things of that nature. It was a lot to do, so in the spirit of comradery and for one last night of summer fun before school started next week for everyone respectfully, they had decided together to spend one last night at camp before packing up their own things in the morning and heading back home.

The other boy, Tyler, was the first up the stairs to the porch of the main house. Rocking chairs were spread out across the deck and he dramatically plopped himself down in one while he waited for the rest of them. 

Bringing up the rear was a girl with blonde curls named Louise. Together, they all sat on rocking chairs on the porch like a bunch of old folks, rocking and staring out at the glistening lake between the tall pine trees. Phil could see why the camp was named as it was.

“Alright, what’s on the agenda?” Tyler asked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he rocked, as if he was enjoying a vacation in paradise.

Suzie pulled a lined sheet of pocket-sized notebook paper out of her pocket.

“Alright, here’s what needs to get done: the cabins and bathrooms need to be inspected, the main building has to be cleaned, someone needs to check the tool and equipment sheds to make sure everything is put away, and while that’s going on, someone should start making dinner and start a fire.”

They all looked at each other.

“Jessy and I will check the cabins and the bathrooms,” Becky offered loudly. Jessy tried to look enthusiastic, but she just looked pained instead. Becky had taken to ordering Jessy around for the summer, and Jessy was too timid of a girl to stand up for herself. Any interference by any of the other counselors had been met with resistance on Becky’s part. 

“Louise and I can check the equipment and tool sheds and walk the grounds,” Tyler offered. It’d been clear to all the other campers that Tyler and Louise had their eyes on each other.

“Alright,” Suzie agreed. “Dan, can you and Phil work on cleaning up here while I cook dinner and start a fire?”

Phil shared another look between him and Dan.

“Sure thing,” Dan smiled. “Thanks for offering to cook dinner for all of us.”

Suzie smiled in return.

“All right, I’m sure we’ll find more things to do along the way so let’s get started now.”

Tyler groaned dramatically but stood up and made his way down one of the sets of stairs followed by Louise.

Right behind her was Jessy and Becky.

Suzie, Dan, and Phil all headed inside the main cabin.

“You could start by sweeping,” Suzie offered before making her way into the kitchen.

Phil walked over towards the closet with Dan trailing at his heels.

“Heading back into the closet?” Dan joked as Phil opened the squeaky door. He wrapped a hand around the push broom handle to pull it out. The wide bottom ended up pulling out much more than Phil had bargained for, and as he moved out of the way, Dan swooped in to put everything that had fallen out back inside.

The two of them had shared an almost instant sense of something shared between them. Fielding questions from curious kids about girlfriends far away as well as incessant shipping of the both of them with the other girls would have been alienating on their own, but together the two of them plotted to make up fake girlfriends of the most outlandish proportions. Of course, the other counselors knew that these were tall tales, if not necessarily why, but the campers ate it up. Instead of awkward it became an amusing game between them, almost competing to see whose fake girlfriend was better. So far Phil’s fake girlfriend was on track to become an Olympic rock climber, and Dan’s fake girlfriend was already being scouted by Hollywood producers.

“You know it,” Phil joked back over his shoulder. He carried the broom towards a corner of the room.

“I’ll take the smaller broom and head into the other rooms,” Dan offered, reaching back into the closet.

As Phil swept he heard Suzie call “Not while I’m cooking! You’re going to get dust and hair in our food!” followed by Dan reappearing from the kitchen.

“I guess we’ll save that for later,” he decided, making his way across the large main room towards the office.

There was, of course, adult staff during the summer hours, but all had gone home for the night, including the nurse, whose office was located in the back of the main cabin, the regular cook, and the camp director, whose office was located just off to Phil’s side. It was here Dan was heading now to sweep around the desk and filing cabinets.

In the main room was a grand stone fireplace on which an entire stuffed black bear reared up surrounded by old couches that sank when you sat in them. The bear watched with his glass eyes Phil as he swept. “Hope you don’t have allergies,” he joked towards it.

When the sweeping and general cleaning was finished in the main building both boys reported to Suzie, who was still in the kitchen making dinner. A deep pan was searing ground beef on the induction stove while Suzie prepared traditional taco toppings.

“Why don’t you two head out and see if anyone else needs help?” she suggested, and they followed her suggestion, heading out the front door onto the porch. They crossed the deck and leaned over the railing.

“Are you going to miss this?” Dan asked, gazing out over the treeline.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I think I am. Anything is better than dealing with school work and social pressures, isn’t it?”

“Even kids?”

Phil paused for a moment and tilted his head. “It will be nice to have a break from the constant chaos,” he finally conceited.

“I never want to leave,” Dan sighed. Unbeknownst to either of them, none of them would be leaving- at least not alive.

*-*-*-*-*

Unsurprisingly, cleaning the main building and cooking dinner had taken the least time of all the chores, leaving Dan, Suzie, and Phil to make the campfire for the night. Dan and Phil didn’t mind this: Suzie was the least insufferable of all of their fellow counselors. She’d left the taco meat simmering low on the stove to keep it warm. When all the chores were done, the three of them headed back up to the main cabin and brought down everything they needed back to the fire.

The group sat in silence as they ate, finally enjoying a moment of peace between the seven of them without any adults or kids. They were eating out of bowls, as they’d run out of taco shells during camp.

In keeping with the camp theme, each of them were sat either on logs in pairs or tree stumps. Dan and Phil had ended up sharing a shorter log and were pressed shoulder to shoulder.

“I’m so thankful we don’t have to sing camp songs anymore,” Becky sighed, pulling out a portable speaker from her pocket and hooking it up to her phone via bluetooth. She turned on some pop music just a bit too loud, but no one said anything.

Suzie reached her arms up in a stretch. “I should take these bowls back up to the kitchen and get them cleaned so I don’t have to do it in the morning. There’s a few bars of chocolate and marshmallows left, and one more unopened box of graham crackers that’s definitely not going to make it to next year. Are we tired of s’mores yet, or can I bring them out so we don’t have to throw them away?”

“I’m fine with one more night of s’mores. Lord knows we probably won’t be having any until next year,” Jessy said.

Louise let out a hearty chuckle. “You’re crazy if you think I’m coming back next year,” she grinned. “Besides, I’m hoping to be out of here by then.”

Jessy nodded, as if remembering something. “Senior year. Are you excited? Are you nervous?”

Louise shook her head, golden curls bouncing. “I’m excited to get the fuck out of here.”

Jessy smiled wistfully.

“I’ll help you carry the bowls up,” Tyler offered, standing up from his stump. Almost undetectable he shot a glance at Louise before looking away, as if to say “look at what a gentleman I’m being.” Suzie didn’t seem to notice but it wasn’t lost on either of the other boys and they shared a knowing look between them.

“Thanks Tyler. We’ll be back in a bit.”

“I’m going to go take a walk,” Louise announced, standing up. “Anyone want to come?”

Becky also stood up. “Jessy and I will come.”

Jessy stood up obligatorily. 

“How about you guys?” Louise asked, doe eyes staring at them behind big lashes.

“I’m good,” Phil responded, leaning back a bit.

“Same here, but thanks,” Dan agreed.

“Suit yourselves. See you soon!”

“Be safe!” Dan called after them.

Jessy waved a flashlight in the air to show them she had one and flicked it on.

The two then watched the circle of light until it disappeared into the wilderness.

“I wonder what my girlfriend is doing right now,” Dan joked.

“Climbing rocks in Japan?” Phil suggested.

“No, that’s your girlfriend,” Dan reminded him.

“Oh right. I’m sure she’s staring in some sort of new teen movie.”

“Oh yeah? What kind?”

Phil thought for a moment, before clawing his hands and raising them in front of him.

“A slasher. Very bloody, very gorey.”

“And where does it take place?”

“At a camp,” Phil said in a spooky voice, “on a night just like this one.”

“Oh yeah?” Dan asked again. “All you’re missing is a flashlight to shine in your face.”

Phil pulled out his phone and turned on it’s flashlight.

“At a camp, on a night just like this,” Phil repeated.

The two laughed, but soon their smiled fell.

“I wish I had a boyfriend,” Phil said, suddenly very demur.

“Me too,” Dan agreed.

They stared into the fire, flickering flames illuminating all the caresses of their young faces. The fire popped and crackled and the sound mixed with that of the forest at night. Phil really was going to miss this.

Just then, the night air was pierced by a scream.

On instinct both of them rose to their feet, stumbling a little as they bumped into each other from their close proximity.

“Where did that come from?” Dan asked in a hushed whisper.

“I don’t know,” Phil replied.

“Fuck,” Dan swore. “Quick, you go find the girls and I’ll check the main cabin. Meet back here when we have everyone.”

Without looking back he headed off in the direction he’d last seen Jessy’s flashlight.

The girls had followed Louise on the trail that led out towards the road. Phil walked quickly, waving his phone’s flashlight back and forth into the trees as he listened hard. He hardly kept his eyes on his feet even though it was dark: he’d come to know these trails and every root and upturned rock.

Phil’s breathing was heavy with anxiety and for some reason he worried that his breathing was too loud. He didn’t understand why he felt that way, but it was almost as if… he was being watched. Yes, that was it. He felt watched. He hadn’t been able to place the feeling until now. The hairs on his arm stood on end and he felt beads of sweat dripping down his neck from the Texas heat, even when the sun was down and the moon conquered her domain.

Phil heard a rustle off to the right in front of him and he whipped his flashlight in that direction. He didn’t see anything. He gulped and held his phone in that direction for a moment until he spotted a movement. He flicked the beam of light up a tree. He saw a flash of gray fur. It had just been a squirrel, spooked by his presence. Phil sighed and forced his body to relax while he was stopped. He swept the light around him one more time before taking another step, but-

Something had only just registered in his brain. He thought he’d seen something again.

He took another few deliberate steps forward and swept his light over the area again, and oh my god-

Becky was laying facedown just off the trail.

“Becky?” Phil called, rushing over to kneel by her side.

He shone the light down on her back and saw the blood oozing from underneath the tear in her shirt.

“Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath. Instinctively he dropped his phone and pressed down on the wound, which caused to blood to come out even faster.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Phil recoiled, heart racing in his chest so fast it hurt.

Becky still wasn’t moving.

“Becky? Becky?”

Phil reached towards her outstretched wrist, checking for a pulse. He didn’t find any. “Oh my god,” he said one more time before standing back up. He wiped his bloody hands down his tee and grabbed his phone from next to Becky’s body.

“LOUISE! JESSY!” Phil was running down the trail now as fast as his legs could carry him. He was in much better shape now from all the hiking than he had been over the past school year, and yet he was still gasping for air in between every yell.

“JESSY? LOUISE?”

Phil’s feet carried him all the way around the trail, which was one of the shorter ones, back to the campfire. Dan, Tyler, and Suzie weren’t there so he took back off along the trail that led up the hill to the main building. There he found them huddled together on one couch in front of the unlit fireplace under the watchful eyes of the bear.

Dan stood up to meet him.

“Phil, I’m so sorry, Suzie suggested that we-”

“Becky’s dead,” Phil interrupted. “We need to go find the others.”

Tyler, Suzie, and Dan shared looks of horror.

“Oh my god,” Suzie muttered. Then her face hardened.

“Okay. Two of us should stay here and two of us should head out and look for Jessy and Louise.”

“Wait!” Tyler interjected. “Dead how?! What the fuck happened?!”

“She was murdered,” Phil explained.

“Murdered?” Dan asked, aghast. “By who?”

“I don’t know, but we have to find the others,” Phil begged.

Suzie was quickly loosing her composure, tears sliding down her face. “This is a joke, right?” she asked, trying to convince herself more than anything. They all knew Phil wouldn’t joke about something like this, and they’d all heard that scream. It wasn’t the kind of scream you could fake for anything.

“It’s not a joke, and we should all be out looking for them together.”

“What if they come back here? We all know to come back here. We should wait here for them.”

“We need to go out and find them,” Tyler argued.

“I agree.”

The three of them looked at Dan. He gazed up at Phil brokenheartedly. 

“If they come back here and no one’s here they’ll be scared and confused,” he thought aloud.

Phil gazed back at him and nodded his head, a gesture of a lack of animosity between them.

“Then Tyler and I will go look for them and you guys stay here.”

“Here, take this.” Suzie hurried over to a table by the door that had a large, highly powered flashlight sat atop. She turned it and handed it to Tyler.

“Be safe out there.”

Phil glanced at the phone still in his hand, wishing there was cell service so they could keep in contact with each other over text. “We’ll be back,” he assured, slipping it in his back pocket.

He and Tyler went back outside and stood on the porch. 

“Weren’t not splitting up,” Phil ordered.

Tyler gave him a look like he was crazy. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Phil hoped Tyler couldn’t see his shoulders sink in relief in the dark.

“Alright, where would you go if you were running from a crazy killer?” Tyler asked.

“Here,” Phil answered truthfully.

“Agreed, but they didn’t come back here. What’s your next move?”

Phil gritted his teeth. “Hide, I guess, in one of the kid’s cabins. I would hope there’s a lot of them and the killer would tire of searching them all verses a solitary building like the bathrooms or the arts and crafts building.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Well my first thought would have been to grab the shotgun out of the tool shed,” Tyler replied.

Phil blinked in surprise. “There’s a shotgun in the tool shed?”

“Have you not been in the tool shed?”

“No, I have, I just-”

“Okay well, yeah, there’s a shotgun. So now what do we do?”

Phil sighed.

“Let’s check the cabins first. They’re closer”

Tyler nodded and they turned to the left running off down the porch steps.

The flashlight’s beam bounced as they ran.

“LOUISE?” Phil called and Tyler skidded to a halt. 

“Phil! Shut up!”

“What?”

“There’s a killer on the loose! Do you want him to find us?!”

Phil gulped and shook his head and they continued off running.

After a few minutes they made it to the first cabin. The doors were a wooden frame with two sections of screen separated with a two-by-four. Tyler grabbed the rusty door handle with the hand that wasn’t holding the flashlight and yanked it open. Phil pulled his phone back out of his back jeans pocket and turned on it’s light once more as they searched the cabin.

“Nothing,” Tyler sighed, and they jogged to the next cabin in line.

There was nothing their either.

Phil wasn’t really expecting to find anything, so when they stumbled upon Louise’s body in the third cabin underneath a bunk bed in a pool of blood, he still wasn’t any more prepared than he had been to see Becky’s dead body.

“Louise,” Tyler let out a choked sob and knelt down in the blood.

He gently grabbed her hand and brushed her blond curls from her face.

Phil, himself crying, placed a hand on Tyler’s shoulder and picked up the flashlight Tyler had dropped.

“Come on, we need to search the other cabins for Jessy.”

Tyler, now soaked in blood from the knees down, stood back up, sliding a little in the still-warm pool, which only made him cry even harder.

Phil grabbed his arm.

“Come on, we need to go.”

“Hold on just one second.”

Tyler bent down again and used two fingers to drag her eyelids shut. Phil appreciated the gesture, both symbolically, and as someone who’d been subjected to her haunted, glassy-eyed gaze. It was the same cool gaze as the bear above the fireplace had. Dead.

Phil and Tyler searched the rest of the cabins, now expecting to find Jessy also dead, either huddled up under one of the beds like Louise or sprawled out in death on one of the matresses like Becky had been in the forest, but they didn’t.

“We have to check the tool shed next,” Tyler remarked, and so once again they headed down the trail that wrapped around Crystal Lake.

The tool shed’s outer light was on.

Tyler and Phil shared a glance, trying their best to steel their nerves against their trembling bodies as Tyler pulled open the door and Phil shone the light inside. There was no need to, though. The shed’s single light bulb that hung from a cord from the rafters was on, still swinging from the force of someone yanking the cord to turn it on. The light swung back and forth, and in the middle of the floor Jessy lay with the shotgun tossed to the side near her. It was clear she’d put up a fight but she was still dead.

Another round of tears started up for both of them as they exited the shed.

“We have to tell the others back up at the main cabin.”

“I know.”

Phil felt drained but he ran back down the trail they way they’d come, following behind Tyler who was running ahead of the flashlight’s beam.

When they reached the main cabin again all the lights were shut off.

“Oh no.”

They made their way to the staircase on their left before sliding to a halt again.

Facedown on the stairs lay Dan, dead trying to run out of the building.

Phil felt his whole world shatter. It’d been hard enough seeing the friends he’d spent the summer with, but… somehow he’d never thought that Dan wouldn’t make it out alive… and for the first time, he was wondering if he and Tyler were going to make it out alive either.

Tyler’d thrown up an arm to stop Phil from running towards Dan’s body.

“He might still be alive,” Phil whispered hoarsely.

“He’s not alive,” Tyler said and he grabbed Phil’s arm and dragged him around the porch to the other stair case.

Quietly they searched the house, finding Suzie dead in the pantry. By this time Phil was expecting she hadn’t made it out alive.

They stood shoulder to shoulder staring down at their dead friend’s body.

“We need to get out of here,” Tyler decided, and they crept their way quickly back through the kitchen out to the main room in the dark, path lit only by the powerful flashlight in Phil’s hand.

Phil raised the flashlight towards the main entrance, the door to which they’d left open in their hurry to find Suzie. In the doorway stood a large man with an even larger machete. His balding head was covered in a mask with holes. Tyler, an avid sports fan, instantly recognized it as an old hockey mask. Phil didn’t. Either way, the man was an immediate threat to both of them, and they took off running towards the nurses station in the back.

Tyler yanked open the back door and ran outside followed closely by Phil. Phil ran as fast as his feet could carry him, but his shoe caught in a root and Phil felt the breath leave his chest after his body slammed to the forest floor, flashlight dancing off the path.

“Phil!”

Tyler turned to look behind him and Phil watched the masked man melt out of the forest between them.

“Tyler! Go! Run!”

Tyler hesitated but turned back around and continued to run towards the parking lot.

Phil scrambled back up to his feet and turned around back the way he’d come and ran back through the door to the nurse’s office. He dove under the nurse’s desk and tried to catch his breath after his fall.

Think, he told himself. Think.

He played out a mental map of the camp. There was the trail to the road that Becky had died near. There was the parking lot with Tyler and Louise’s cars. They were the only counselors who had driven to camp. If Tyler was able to get his car out and escape that only left Louise’s car, and Phil didn’t know where she’d left her keys. If Tyler had died his car was still an option.

That, or he could try and hide somewhere at the camp. That hadn’t worked for anyone else, though. He racked his brain to come up with a plan. Then it came to him: the lake. If he could take a boat out into the lake the killer would either have to swim out to get him or take another boat out. If the killer swam out Phil would be able to hear him coming, and if he watched the beach to see if the killer took another canoe out Phil would have plenty of time to paddle to the other side of the lake before the killer made it. When his fellow counselor's families realized they were missing tomorrow they would send the police to come looking for them and the police would find Phil and get him out of here alive. There was no place to run or hide out in the open on a lake. No one could sneak up on him. 

Phil crawled out on all fours from underneath the nurse’s desk and slipped through the open front door of the main building and crossed to the staircase that Dan’s body wasn’t draped over. He was so tired, but after this he could rest.

Phil ran down the hill trail past the campfire that was still burning and towards the beach. 

The canoes, of course, were all put away, stored upside-down on racks in the boat shed. They were aluminum canoes, though, light and easy, with the anticipation of kids handling them. They were heavy enough still though that it usually took two people at least to flip them off the racks and set them down, and even though Phil was exhausted, his adrenaline gave him one last burst of strength and he was able to flip the canoe off the lowest rack by himself and managed not to drop it on his feet.

Traditionally they weren’t supposed to drag the canoes to make sure they didn’t damage the bottom of the hull but Phil figured a moment of life or death made an acceptable exception to the rule.

Phil grabbed the rope at the front of the boat and dragged the boat across the grass and into the beach’s sand. Then he ran back into the boat shed and grabbed a paddle, throwing it in the boat with a loud clatter before resuming dragging it across the sand to the water’s edge. The water lapped at his sneakers, illuminated by the light atop the tall wooden pole next to the boathouse.

When the boat was afloat, Phil tipped himself into the middle, sitting up and grabbing the paddle. He started pushing his way out towards the center of the lake. He hadn’t grabbed a life vest, nor did he have a safety buddy, as everyone else was dead, but he figured these rules could also be overlooked at this moment.

Tiny lake waves lapped at his boat as he continued to paddle until he drifted on momentum to the approximate center of the lake. He looked around everywhere, scanning the forest’s edge for any sign of movement. He tried his best to relax his body while keeping his eyes peeled. There was nothing, though. No sounds out of place. No movements. Just the lapping of the waves that gently rocked him.

Phil kept his hands wrapped around the paddle but shifted his position to a more comfortable one. He was still exhausted, and his adrenaline was slowly heading back to a more normal level. He tried to keep his eyes open but he found himself blinking slowly, eyes growing heavy and tired. He could feel the ache of his body and the mental fatigue in his head threatening to swallow him up in a blanket of false security. Then again, though, was it false? I mean would someone want to kill him so badly they would paddle or swim all the way out to try and kill him? What would they do, try and tip him out and drown him? He would hear them coming even if he was asleep, right? He didn’t know, but did it really matter if he couldn’t stop himself from just falling asleep-

Suddenly something rocked the boat and jolted Phil into an upright position. A large hand reached out of the water and grabbed the boat. Phil raised his paddle and slammed it down on the fingers but the hand didn’t budge. Another hand wielding a machete reached up out of the murky depths and came down on the paddle, splitting the wood into two halves. Thinking quickly, Phil used the broken and splintered edge to stab down again. The jagged wood bounced right off the hand as if it was nothing.

This can’t be happening, Phil thought to himself.

The hand wielding the machete came down again and Phil felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and felt warmth. He looked down. There was blood all over his clothes. He dropped the halves of his paddle and reached down to his stomach.