I don't know if anyone is keeping up with these >_<

Here's the next part of Outbreak. I took a much longer time with this one and it's much longer, but I hope you people don't have a problem with it. It's a lot different than it's predecessor, but I like it.

EPIDEMIC

16:32 August 30th Wallace, NC

On the last Friday before the start of school, two best friends were making the best they could out of the end of summer.

They had already spent several hours out under the autumnal hues, and had finally come to a rest, sitting calmly on the back porch of where eleven year old Jason resided.

“I can’t believe it’s almost over. A whole summer, just like that,� said Jason, pensively. He ran a hand through his light brown hair, pushing it out of his eyes.

“I know, right. What a drag. Hey, I think my mom wants me home soon,� commented red-haired Collin in reply. Jason stood up.

“Okay, I’ll walk you home,� he said, and Collin
stood, too.

“Yeah, let’s go down by the creek,� Collin suggested, walking precariously along a log that bordered the patio.

“You heard my mom, we’re not allowed in the creek,� Jason replied, attempting to push Collin off balance.

“Not in the creek, stupid. By the creek,� Collin said mischievously, stepping off the log and shuffling through a pile of fallen leaves.

“I don’t know, Collin. What if we fall in? Maybe it’s dangerous,� Jason said, still unsure.

“Don’t be such a whiner,� the other boy replied, kicking a soft, vulnerable pileus violently from it’s stalk, “How bad could it be? C’mon.�

Reluctantly, Jason followed his friend a little ways into a thinly forested area and down a gentle slope.

“See? Not so bad so far,� Collin said, preceding Jason to the bank, “I dare you to jump it.

Jason shook his head. “No way.�

“Aw, come on. It’s not too hard, not even for a scaredy cat like you,� Collin said, with a smirk.

“I’m not a scaredy cat!� Jason protested, “I could jump this stupid creek any ol’ day. I just don’t want to right now, is all.�

“Yeah, right. You couldn’t jump this creek to save your own life,� Collin sneered.

“Yes, I can!� Jason said, determinedly, “Watch me.�

Taking a breath, he backed up and took a running jump. As he landed, his foot slipped on a mossy stone, and he fell. He threw his hands out to catch himself, and felt a sharp pain on his left palm as it landed in the water.

“Aw, man! Look what you made me do!� Jason whined, tears coming to his eyes as he stood.

“I didn’t make you do it, it’s your own fault for being so clumsy,� Collin retorted. Jason was about to shout a reply when he saw something white in his peripheral vision.

“Hey, look. I see your house from here,� he said, turning.

“That’s not my house, stupid. I don’t live this close to a creek,� Collin replied, with a laugh.

“Well, if it’s not your house,� Jason said slowly, thinking. “Then whose is it?�

As he talked, he turned and made his way up the bank. Collin jumped the creek with newfound ease and followed alongside him, unable to resist the temptation of a mystery.

“Whoa,� Jason breathed, as he stood before a large, somewhat run-down old building of which he had seen the likes of never before.

Injury and stunt long forgotten, the two boys slowly walked up to what appeared to be the front of the building.

“I never knew this was here,� Collin commented, walking closer and reaching a grubby hand out to touch a part of the wall, “Hey! It could be our new clubhouse!�

“No way, man,� Jason said, with a shudder, “What if someone lives here? Look, there’s a sign.�

He walked over to a dirty, crooked old sign, still managing to hang on by a single screw in it’s upper left corner.

“Who cares?� Collin said, as Jason tilted his head and squinted to read the sign, sounding out the words in a whisper.

“It’s obvious,� Collin prattled on, “No one’s been here in a long, long time. I think it’s perfect.�

With an exasperated sigh, he put his hands on his hips, irritated that his friend was ignoring him.

“What does that stupid sign say, anyway. Can we draw over it?�

Jason frowned. “Uh…Sy- Syl… Sylex? And some numbers,� he read, with a little difficulty. “I can’t see the rest, it’s been painted over. What does Sylex mean? I think I’ve heard it somewhere.�

“It probably means something cool, like ‘No girls allowed’. I think we should go inside,� Collin replied, reaching for the doorknob despite Jason’s protests.

To both boys’ surprise, and Jason’s dismay, the door was unlocked and opened silently, but slowly. The door was quite heavy, and Collin struggled a little. He grabbed Jason’s sleeve and pulled him over the threshold.

The room they entered was clear evidence that the place was abandoned. Empty and dark, along with a slight aroma of bleach and a thick layer of dust, the room appeared to have once been very clean.

Neither boy dared speak, but Collin stepped forward, absentmindedly letting go of the door, which slammed heavily behind them, engulfing them in total darkness.

Jason let out a blood curdling shriek, turned, and bolted into the door, fumbling desperately for the doorknob. He vaguely noticed his hand touch something small protruding from the wall.

All of a sudden, with a slight metallic clunking noise, florescent ceiling lights started to warm up, letting out a low, yellowish-grey light.

Heart pounding, Jason slumped to the floor, leaning back against the door to watch the lights, one by one, turn on slowly and gradually light the way down a long hallway.

“This. Is so. Cool,� Collin breathed.

“Let’s get out of here,� Jason whined, trembling slightly as he got to his feet. Their footsteps left marks in the grey layer of dust on the floor. Collin sneezed.

“Are you kidding?!� he said incredulously, “This place is awesome. Just…needs to be swept, is all.�

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here, let’s get going,� Jason whined.

“Be quiet, you scaredy-cat, it’s not so bad,� Collin said, “See, the lights are getting brighter.�

Jason looked fearfully around. If anything, the lights were only flickering more, throwing shadows into the corners and igniting Jason’s imagination in the worst way.

There was a shrill, grating noise, and Jason thought his heart might stop. He watched as the glass light cover panel just above an innocently observant Collin came loose from it’s holding place and swung from it’s two remaining screws.

Time seemed to slow before Jason’s eyes as he watched the panel of frosted glass swing for two ominously long seconds and then, a tiny snapping sound was just audible as the first screw popped from it’s hole. The panel swung slowly, menacingly, to the side, twisting as the last screw wriggled loose.

Eyes riveted to the horrifying scene before him, Jason let out a silent scream as the pane plummeted at an agonizingly slow pace down towards the other boy.

Several seconds seem to pass as it rotated, catching the dim light on it’s unfrosted side, only to let it go again as it turned, frighteningly sharp corner leading the fall…

At the last possible moment, Collin turned around.

“Aren’t you comi-“

Jason stood frozen, hands stretched out, he watched as the glass corner missed Collin by an inch, and the pane hit the floor with a mind-numbing crash.

It shattered into a billion glittering shards that left tiny points of blood as the smallest pieces burrowed deep into Collin’s calves and ankles.

Collin let out a scream of pain and shock that echoed down the hallway and unknown places beyond.

“Why didn’t you say something?!� Collin yelled angrily, as tiny streams of blood trickled down into his shoes.

“I…I did- I tried to- it just-“ Jason attempted to answer, but only managed to stutter as uncontrollable tears streamed down his face.

Collin opened his mouth to shout again, when the uncovered lights above him flickered erratically and went out.

“Well, you’re lucky I’m okay,� Jason said shortly, regaining his composure as he wiped off a train of tears that had made it halfway down his cheek.

“Can we go now?� Jason begged.

“Maybe in a minute. Look, there’s a room,� Collin replied, ignoring his friend’s urgency and turning to walk down the dimly lit hallway, glass crunching and cracking under his shoes as his walked.

Unwilling to wait alone, Jason walked quickly to catch up.

“Let’s be really careful, okay?� Jason suggested, and Collin just shrugged.

“If you say so,� he said, indifferently. As they walked, Jason hoped with all his heart that the door would be locked.

As he walked, he noticed what looked to be a window, to his left. He stopped, to take a closer look, and noticed that it had been spray-painted over, and bordered with some sort of foam that had since hardened and yellowed.

“Weird,� he said aloud.

“What’s that?� Collin asked from further down the hallway, “Oh, hey, check it out, this door’s unlocked, too.�

Heart sinking slightly, Jason put the window from his mind and followed his friend.
Collin opened the door carefully, and reached his hand inside to flick the light on.

The room was empty save for a desk covered in papers and a smooth black briefcase. A glint of gold caught Collin’s eye, and he ran forward, shuffling through the papers to find it’s source. Seconds later, he picked up a photograph with an elaborate golden frame.

“Aw, I hoping it would be treasure,� Collin said, dismayed, “Who are these guys?�
Jason stepped forward to take a look.

A handsome, blond, bespectacled man sat at a desk, no discernible expression on his face. He looked to be in his mid-forties, and behind him was a large window with a view of tall, snowcapped mountains. Beside him stood another man with dark hair that was parted and slicked back. He was smiling slightly, exuding something of a sinister, arrogant nature. He wore an expensive looking pinstriped suit and had one hand possessively on the blond man’s shoulder, the other atop a black cane, floridly gilded with silver. There was a diamond pin just below the knot of his tie.

“Whoa,� Collin breathed, breaking the silence, “These guys look loaded, I wonder who they are.�

“This place probably belongs to them, we should get going,� Jason said, taking the picture from Collin’s hands and placing it gently on the desk. A piece of paper fell, and Jason bent to pick it up.

“Hey, this one’s handwritten- Don’t open that!� Jason shouted abruptly.

Collin had righted the briefcase and was attempting to pry it open. “Look, it’s locked. It’s not meant for you to look in.�

Collin frowned. “Finders keepers,� he retorted, but put the briefcase back down on the desk.

Jason squinted at the paper he had picked up, trying to make out what the scrawled handwriting said.

‘Herr Rittevon,’ Jason read, with considerable difficulty, ‘Enclosed within this letter is your pin, which I found in my office after you left. Do be more careful. Eon8 has been deployed, and I eagerly await it’s rewards. We should see it’s effects in the populace very soon. To be entirely honest, I look forward to never seeing you ever again. I do not enjoy your attentions. Please stop correspondence. My dearest respects, Erwin J. E. Zurich.’

“What does that mean?� Collin asked, still eyeing the briefcase. Jason put the letter down.

“Find the envelope,� he said simply, and started shuffling through the papers. Collin shrugged and followed suit.

“I think I found it, here,� Collin said, handing Jason the letter, “What’s so important about it, anyway?�

Jason didn’t answer, but tipped the letter upside-down and Collin’s jaw dropped as a sparkling pin fell with a ‘clink’ onto the desk-top.

“Christ on a bicycle,� Collin whispered, “Is…is that-?� Jason nodded.
“I think so.�

As they spoke, a low humming noise rumbled from somewhere in the building, and there was a ‘clank’ somewhere in the ceiling above them. Seconds after, Jason felt a gentle stream of air brush his cheek, with the scent of something stagnant, ancient, and malicious among the stench of bleach, dust and grape juice.

“Air conditioning, cool!� Collin said, “This place is way awesome.� Jason coughed.

“It smells weird, I don’t like it,� he stated. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You always take everything for granted. Let’s check if there’s any more rooms,� he said.

Reluctantly, Jason pocketed the pin and followed Collin back out into the hallway.

Waiting until Collin had walked a little ways, Jason took the pin out of his pocket and examined it.

‘It can’t be real,’ he thought, ‘No way this could happen.’ But even as he doubted, he noticed tiny letters on the underside. The first few were too small to read, but the latter spelled ‘Rittevon’ for sure.

With a gasp, Jason closed his hand on the pin and put it back in his pocket.

‘So it really does belong to someone,’ he thought, ‘Is this stealing?’ He looked around him, suddenly fearful of witnesses.

“Finders keepers,� he said quietly, determinedly, shaking guilt from his mind.

“Who are you talking to back there?� Collin called, “I found another door, come check it out.� With a sigh of relief, Jason turned and ran down the hallway to join his friend.

Collin stood before a massive steel door with several very sturdy hinges on the right side, and a latch that appeared very heavy.

Before Jason could stop him, Collin put his hand on the cold, dusty steel latch and pushed up. The door opened only slightly, with a hiss. The lights seemed to dim and flicker more.

Exasperated, Collin pulled as hard as he could on the latch, and Jason, despite the growing sense of dread inside him, put his hands on the edge of the door and pulled. The cut on his left palm stung suddenly, and he let go.

With a scraping sound, the door slowly opened. The room was totally dark. Collin took a step inside and felt for the light switch, but found nothing.

“Oh, it’s on the outside,� Jason noted, and flicked several switches. Nothing happened. The room remained dark. Jason let out a breath he didn’t know had been holding.

Suddenly, there was a hum and a bright flash, and the room was illuminated. Jason screamed.

The room was filled with corpses. Bent, rotten remains of what had once been human life were strewn about the room.
Chunks of hair and puddles of sticky, putrid black liquid were splashed on the walls and floors, even on the ceiling. Bodies lay, horribly curved, broken, mangled on the floors and against the walls.

Impulsively, Jason fell to his hands and knees and vomited. There was a squelching noise as his palms landed into a puddle of the nidorous black liquid, and he emptied his stomach several times. Collin watched, horrified, as a lipless, cheek less corpse fell forwards, landing inches from Jason’s face.

It’s putrescent abdomen was torn open viciously, it appeared to have gutted itself. Collin vomited. A warm wave of an olid stench hit Collin’s nostrils, and he vomited again, before grabbing Jason by the collar and pulling him out of the room.

Collin bolted down the hallway, dragging Jason along.

Jason screamed as he was dragged through the glittering area of broken glass, and a path of his blood was smeared all the way to the doorway, where he was pulled to his feet as the other boy wrenched the door open.

A wave of clean, cool air hit Collin’s face as he ran out the door, but he didn’t stop running.

They jumped over the creek and dashed through the underbrush, paying no attention to the nettles and thorns that slashed their legs, running like madmen all the way up until they reached the patio of Jason’s house, where they were found unconscious by Jason’s parents hours later.

Wallace Middle School, Two Weeks Later

“I’m glad you know the answer, Jason, but please raise your hand to speak,� said a young, scholarly woman as she turned to write a sum on the blackboard.

Jason scowled, and glared down at his desk. A cut on his palm continued to fester despite several antibiotics.

“Miss Angelica?� squeaked a girl in the front row, as she put up her hand.

“Yes, Lucy?� the teacher asked, as she turned back to the class.

“It’s lunchtime,� replied the little girl, pointing to the clock above the blackboard.

“Oh, yes, it is. Thank you for telling me,� Miss Angelica said, and the little girl beamed.
“But before we leave for lunch, who thinks they know the answer to this problem? Collin, please sit up.�

She turned away from the class to write out a long addition problem on the board. Collin still sat slumped in his chair, not reacting when a note was placed onto his desk. His pupils were dilated almost to the point where there was no color in his eyes, but you could still see a ring of blue iris, with a pattern a bit like flame bordering his enlarged pupils.

Jason squealed and raised his hand, waving it excitedly. Miss Angelica pointed to him, and he put his hand down and started to speak.

“It’s two-hundred and-“ his sentence was interrupted as his head flung forward, cracking on the desk. Jerking to the side, he fell out of his desk and started to thrash on the floor.

Lucy screamed.

Seconds later, the rest of the class followed suit, running out of the classroom. At that moment, Collin slid out of his chair, his skull landing on the floor with a dreadful cracking noise.

The teacher looked on in horror as she watched him start to bend, curving upwards, belly raising towards the ceiling. She had taken a course in CPR, but couldn’t remember any of it, and talking to him would be entirely futile. Helpless and scared, she watched as her favorite student succumbed to his frightening malady.

Frozen no longer, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911.

15:10 TEN WEEKS LATER

A red-haired young boy in a wheelchair rolled from the front doors of Wallace Middle, down the handicap ramp and along the sidewalk that bordered the parking lot. His left arm and right leg were bent inwards and upwards towards his torso. His eyes were blue, but there was a orange pattern that looked distinctly flame-like in the middle, bordering his pupil.

Bunches of kids walked a wide circle around him, off to their respective destinations. He was used to the staring.

After a minute or so, he reached the main street and took a left down the sidewalk, towards a bus stop. A long, black car that he had never seen the likes of before cruised down the street beside him, passing him. He frowned, watching it. It looked out of place, old fashioned. He watched it turn the corner and put it out of his mind.

When he reached the bus-stop, he reached with his good right hand into a bag on the side of his wheelchair and pulled out a book. ‘Red Rabbit’, by Tom Clancy.

‘Property of Collin Breckett’ was scrawled in black marker on the top. The boy opened it to a dog-eared page and started reading.

Further down the block, a tall man in an expensive looking pinstriped suit turned the corner, walking purposely down the sidewalk towards the bus stop.

There was a slight smile on his face, but the rest of his face showed no emotion. His dark hair was parted on the side, not a strand out of place. He walked smoothly and quickly, almost seeming to glide over the pavement. His perfectly shined oxfords made no sound as he walked, and he glanced lazily at his DeBeers watch, which reflected the sunlight for a second until the man moved his arm.

Collin watched the man approach in his peripheral vision, but appeared to take no notice, keeping his eyes on the book in his lap.

The dark-haired man glared contemptuously at the people sitting and standing at the bus stop, blue eyes sliding from one face to another before they rested on the red-haired boy in the wheelchair.

A bit reluctantly, he glided over and took a seat on the bench next to Collin, inspecting it and placing a pristine white handkerchief on the spot first.

“What’s that you have there, a Clancy?� he said, after a few seconds of silence.

“You noticed,� Collin said, not looking up.

“Oh, yes, I’m quite a reader, myself,� the man lied, putting his hand in the spot next to him, preventing someone from sitting down. “You seem a bit young to be reading a big book like that.�

“You seem a bit rich to be waiting for the bus,� Collin said flatly, sounding annoyed.

“Touché,� the man said in reply, “What’s your name?�

“Collin Breckett. Who the hell are you?�
The man took a deep breath, and replied, “That’s irrelevant at this point. I’m a doctor, and I couldn’t help but take notice of your…condition.�

“What’s it to you?� Collin muttered, still not taking his eyes from his book. The man smiled slightly, and the sunlight glittered off his jeweled cufflinks.

“I’m a specialist in what I think you have. You see, I think… I think I could cure you,� he said slowly, with an undertone of something Collin could not recognize.

For the first time, Collin turned around to face the man, who was smiling slightly.

“Ah, the flame pattern around your iris. My, you’re a lucky one. You haven’t had Lesch-Nyhan all your life, have you?� he asked, tilting his head a little.

“How’d you know?� Collin asked quietly, narrowing his eyes.

“As I said, I’m a specialist,� the man said, with something that resembled a chuckle, only it was not remotely pleasant sounding. “Where were you, two and a half weeks before you got sick? Did you find someplace new, someplace you weren’t supposed to be..?�

Collin gasped a little, suddenly suspicious. He turned away, facing the street. The man’s lip curled, and he grabbed Collin’s chin, jerking his face back around to face him.

“I’m only going to ask you once more. Where. Did. You. Go.�

Collin tried to squirm out of the man’s grip, but couldn’t.

Not daring to make eye contact with the livid older man, Collin gasped, “I won’t tell you anything until you tell me who you really are.�

“Fine,� the man snarled, looking away for a fraction of a second, “My name is Erwin. Erwin Zurich.�

Collin’s eyes opened with shock, and he failed to repress a memory that was suddenly shoved to the front of his mind.

Two boys in a grey, dusty room, holding a picture frame. ‘Whoa..’ A letter, refined handwriting, a message exchanged. ‘Do be more careful’. Two unknown men, a gilded cane. ‘Air conditioning, cool.’ Eon8? ‘Please stop correspondence’.

“I’ve seen you before, in…in a picture,� Collin said, frowning. He usually could not remember what occurred in the latter hours of that fateful day, months ago.

“Where?� hissed Mr. Zurich, unrelenting in his grip of Collin’s chin.

“In… in a building, by my house,� Collin whined.

Mr. Zurich raised one eyebrow. “Show me.�

Half an hour later, Mr. Zurich stood beside Collin at the edge of a small creek, barely able to contain his excitement. Collin had a splitting headache, and was massaging his temples with his working hand.

“Where now?� Mr. Zurich asked, almost gleeful. Collin pointed forward, hand shaking.

“Across the creek a little ways,� he replied, shuddering. His wheelchair was at a safe distance from the creek, which Mr. Zurich crossed, his long legs making it effortless.

Collin smiled grimly, unable to move without fear of falling into the creek until Mr. Zurich returned.

Half a minute later, the tall man strode back into Collin’s view. Collin couldn’t hold back a look of hope as Mr. Zurich stepped over the creek.

“Is it what you thought? Can you cure me?� he asked, and Mr. Zurich licked his lips, tilting his head a little.

“I’m no longer in need of your services,� he said quietly as he walked over to where Collin sat, shocked.

With a fluid, quick movement, Mr. Zurich grabbed Collin by the collar, pulled him out of the chair and shoved him onto the ground. From his coat jacket, he pulled out a pistol, equipped with a silencer, and aimed it towards Collin’s face.

“I- but- you’re- “ Collin sputtered words, too shocked to form complete sentences. With a sinister smile, Mr. Zurich went to slide the safety off, but something shiny caught his eye, to his left. He turned, to find it’s source.

“My pin,� he whispered, then turned to Collin, lip curled, “You stole my pin.� He dropped the gun and rushed over to Collin’s wheelchair, grabbing his backpack. Sure enough, a glittering diamond pin was attached to the side pocket.

As Mr. Zurich, with great excitement, attempted to unlatch the pin from it’s current place, Collin, with great difficulty, crawled towards the gun.

At the same moment Mr. Zurich placed his pin in it’s usual spot, an inch or two below his tie, Collin grabbed ahold of the gun in his good right hand.

Mr. Zurich turned, he was surprised to find Collin with the gun, pointing it at his face.

“Get your hands up!� Collin yelled, voice wavering. Instead, Mr. Zurich reached inside his coat pocket once more, this time to produce a pair of black leather gloves.

“Oh, my, a junior police officer,� Mr. Zurich said with a sneer, taking his time putting on the gloves, “You watch too many movies. You’d do much better to just kill me.� Collin, distrusting, narrowed his eyes but did not move the gun.

Mr. Zurich put both hands behind his back and squared his shoulders. “Go on. Shoot me.�

Collin shut his eyes and pulled the trigger. Seconds later, he dared to open one eye. Nothing had happened. Mr. Zurich was still standing there, and it was obvious the gun had not fired.

“Whaaa-“ Collin was interrupted as Mr. Zurich, in a motion that seemed faster than Collin’s eyes could follow, moved forward and slapped the gun out of Collin’s hands.

“Stupid git,� Mr. Zurich snarled, “The safety’s still on.� With another swift movement, he stepped forward, placed an immaculate shoe on Collin’s neck, and bent to pick up the gun. His diamond pin reflected light momentarily into Collin’s eyes, and he had a sudden realization.

“You’re not Mr. Zurich,� he gasped, as the pressure on his neck was slowly increasing, “He’s the blond one. You had the pin, you’re Rittevon!� The man laughed, not a pleasant sound.

“That’s right,� he said, tilting his head a little at the gun as he flicked the safety off and pointed it at Collin, “Should have figured that out earlier, hm? You really aren’t as bright as you think you are.�

He took two long steps backward, away from Collin, then pulled the trigger twice. Collin gasped a little as two dark spots grew on his chest, growing larger with every second. The punctures didn’t hurt as much as Collin thought they should have, instead, they were intensely hot and cold, at the same time. Breathing uneven, Collin’s eyesight went fuzzy as he noticed Mr. Rittevon approach, taking something out of his coat pocket one last time.

Mr. Rittevon smiled slightly at the syringe in his hand as he uncapped it, then thrust it into Collin’s chest, piercing his heart.

Collin whimpered as he struggled to breathe, rapidly losing control. He could feel his hands and feet start to get cold, and he managed to gasp one last word before he blacked out.

“Wh-why?� he sputtered, as blood ran from his mouth. The last thing he ever heard was Mr. Rittevon’s quiet, cold laughter.

RITTEVON RESIDENCE, FOUR MONTHS LATER

A tall, handsome man wearing an expensive looking pinstriped suit sat in a chair behind a desk, long legs carelessly stretched out, resting in front of him atop the desk. Glossy, immaculate dress shoes gleamed, and the man admired them for a minute, chuckling to himself.

He picked up a black fountain pen, adorned with delicate rubies in a swirling pattern and twirled it expertly between his fingers, much as a magician might do with a coin.

Licking his lips, he removed his feet from the desktop and stood up, walking over to the window. As he did so, his shoes made slight clicking noises on the white marble floor.

Gazing lazily out the window at the gossamer clouds and sky of purest blue, he yawned, putting the pen safely into the inside coat pocket of his coat.

Suddenly hungry and quite bored, he sauntered over to two massive, ornately carved wooden doors. With little more than a slight brushing of his fingers against the doorknob, there was an electronic clank, and the left door opened, revealing a long hallway with a curving staircase halfway down.

With smooth, long strides, he reached and descended the staircase quickly, making little sound. Reaching the last stair, he was suddenly aware of a presence beside him. He tilted his head slightly, to notice an elderly man standing with his back to him. He was dressed smartly, with an elegant cutaway coat adding the finishing touches.

The tall man took two silent steps over to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. With a jump, and a shout, the elderly man turned quickly, flinched, then regained his composure.

The other man brushed a nearly invisible speck of lint from his own coat, and with a cool gaze, smiled slightly at the elderly man’s reaction.

“Oh! Herr Rittevon, sir! You mustn’t do that, sir, I beg you,� he said, with a bow, “You gave me quite a start, you did.� The elderly man spoke quickly, and with a heavy German accent.

“I’m sure,� Mr. Rittevon said glacially, with a scathing look to the elderly man. “Tell me, Heinrich,� he said, as he turned his back on the other man and strode towards another hallway, “Have any clients come to call today?�

The much shorter, older man had to walk quickly to keep up with his employer.

“No, Herr Rittevon, sir,� he replied, already out of breath by the time they reached the hallway.

“Very well. You may go.�

With another bow, the elderly Heinrich quickly wheezed a few words of appreciation and scuttled off.

Turning a corner, Mr. Rittevon came to the end of the long hallway into a large dining room, with a large, long marble table in the center. He walked over to the far end, and pulled out an ornate chair.

No sooner then when he sat down at the head of the table did a young, blond man in a suit and tie come from around a corner to Mr. Rittevon’s left.

“Good evening, Herr Rittevon,� he said quietly, looking away when his employer’s piercing blue eyes met his own green ones, “What will it be tonight, sir?�

Mr. Rittevon was silent as he watched the young steward reach forward with a trembling hand and light two long candles with a jewel encrusted lighter, still avoiding his gaze.

“The usual.�

“Yes, sir,� the steward replied, with a bow before he left.

Mr. Rittevon pulled a sleek, black cell-phone from his pants pocket, flipped it open, and glanced at the screen. Still, no messages. He smiled and put the phone back in his pocket.

Not more than ten minutes later did the nervous steward come back around the corner, this time with two silver platters laden with food. After wordlessly placing several plates in front of his daunting employer, he turned to go.

“Wait a moment, Eric,� Mr. Rittevon said, expressionless. Eric froze, an ominous feeling settling over him. A million prayers flashed through his mind, and he bit his lip, holding his breath.
“Sit with me.�

“Pardon, sir?�

“You heard me. Take a seat.�

Eric turned, glancing quickly at the table. There were no other chairs other than the one Mr. Rittevon was sitting in. He strode nervously to his employer’s left and stood subserviently, with his hands behind his back, still avoiding his gaze. Mr. Rittevon smiled slightly and cut delicately into a steak.

“Tell me, Eric-� his quiet, even sentence was cut short as a short, balding man ran into the room, sliding slightly as he stopped.

“Sir, it’s-� the man wheezed, stumbling towards an amused Mr. Rittevon, “The market- your shares-�

Eric quietly turned to take his leave, but his employer, with an unusually quick movement, grabbed him by the wrist, keeping him put.

Eric had no choice but to watch the portly man gasp for breath in front of Mr. Rittevon, who watched coolly. The other man was dressed sharply in a silk three-piece suit. Half moon spectacles were perched low on his long nose, and Eric could see the golden glint of a pocketwatch.

“My patience is waning, Frisch,� Mr. Rittevon said, with something of a sinister, snarling undertone Eric wasn’t sure he had just imagined, “What is it you have to say that is so important to keep me from dining?�

Frisch looked up. “I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, sir, but the situation is urgent,� he said quickly, and quietly, “Lott requires your attention in the office.�

Agitated, Mr. Rittevon stood, with a swift, longing glance back at his steak before following a hasty Frisch out of the room. Eric suddenly felt it was his duty to follow, ignoring another ominous feeling as he rushed out of the room, several yards behind the other men.

Across the foyer and through a long hallway with many doors, Eric finally reached a pair of two large, wooden doors. He had lost sight of his employer and his accountant’s assistant, but could well assume they were in the room he now stood before.

The situation inside was obviously quite serious, Eric could sense a crackling aura of tense urgency growing, and chose wisely to wait outside. Listening closely, despite his conscience’s protests, he could barely hear the low voices of the three men inside.

“I fully regret to inform you, sir… yes, I’m quite sure. It’s in the papers, look for yourself,� spoke a man from inside. Eric recognized it as belonging to Herman Lott, Mr. Rittevon’s reclusive accountant and stockbroker.

It was quiet for half a minute, and Eric strained to pick up any sounds. Finally, he heard Mr. Rittevon speak, so quietly it almost was entirely inaudible.

“What are the damages?�

Eric dared to push the door open slightly, peeking through the crack unnoticed.

“Ah… I’m afraid you’ve lost your entire fortune, sir,� Lott said, looking down at the papers on his desk.

Eric watched Mr. Rittevon as his shoulders slumped, and he uttered a tiny cry, desperate and disbelieving. Biting his lip to keep himself quiet, Eric’s eyes widened as the man he’d known to respect and fear fell to his knees in front of Lott’s desk, broken.

“…Everything?� he whispered, looking from Frisch to Lott and back again, in some vain hope that it was not so.

The two other men remained quiet, Frisch biting his fingernails nervously. Mr. Rittevon staggered to his feet, letting out a long, lugubrious sigh. Letting out another short, heartbreaking whimper, he ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

Suddenly, the mood of the room changed so violently it shocked Eric.

“HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!� Mr. Rittevon shrieked, pushing all the papers and a calculating machine off the table with one sweeping motion.

Frisch backed up until he hit the wall, mouth agape. Eric watched in horror as the irate Mr. Rittevon snatched the desk lamp and hurled it at Lott, who dodged it expertly. Frisch flinched as it shattered against the wall with a loud crash.

As Lott sat up again, Mr. Rittevon grabbed him by the lapels, pulled him out of his seat and over his desk.

“You,� Mr. Rittevon snarled, pulling the smaller man up to his height, “You’re the one who convinced me to.� Lott’s lower lip trembled a little.

“N- no, sir. I advised you against it,� he stuttered. “Remember?� Livid, Mr. Rittevon held him tightly as he shrieked at the top of his lungs, barely two inches from the other man’s face.

Feet dangling above the floor, the immobilized Lott had no choice but to take his employer’s onslaught, whimpering slightly as Mr. Rittevon raved and screamed for a whole minute.

Transfixed, Eric continued to watch even as Mr. Rittevon suddenly threw Lott to the floor, and turned his attentions to the cowering Frisch.

Behind him, Lott trembled so badly he was unable to get up. Frisch made a run for it, but was intercepted by Mr. Rittevon, who snatched him by the tie and jerked him backwards.

For a split second, Eric thought Mr. Rittevon saw him, and turned away from the door, heart pounding.

Seconds later, there was a scream that seemed to pierce him all the way to his bone. Deeply terrified, Eric stood frozen with his back against the door. The screams of pain and agony subsided into quiet sobs, and he let out a breath he wasn’t aware of holding.

Suddenly, the door he wasn’t leaning on opened, and he let out a cry of horror and disgust. Mr. Rittevon stepped out of the room, hands covered in blood.

Instantly, Eric wished he had kept silent as his employer turned, noticing him. There was a sinister, sick, sublimely satisfied smile on his face, that somehow ruined his handsome features. He tilted his head slightly, slowly looking the terrified steward up and down.

“Well,� he said, almost a whisper, “What have we here?�

Eric trembled a little as Mr. Rittevon took a few steps toward him, and lifted a hand to touch his face, leaving bloody streaks dripping down the young man’s cheek and lips.

“Do me a favor, will you?� Mr. Rittevon said, almost demurely, “Get my handkerchief for me.� The look in his eyes and connotation of his statement showed clearly that it was not a request.

Before Eric could ask the question, it was answered. “In my… in my coat pocket. Go on.�

The steward could feel his employer’s gaze as he reached a shaking hand slowly into the inside of his coat. The back of his hand brushed against Mr. Rittevon’s shirt and solid chest as he did so, and he froze.

“Don’t be shy,� he heard Mr. Rittevon whisper, still smiling that terrible smile.

Eric’s blood pounded in his ears, and he held his breath, carefully feeling for the pocket opening. He could feel his employer’s faint heartbeat against the back of his hand, slow and steady, almost arrogant, it seemed.

Slowly letting out his breath, something glittered and caught his eye. An elegant ruby pin adorned Mr. Rittevon’s necktie, an inch or so below the knot. It matched the blood on his hands, and Eric’s own face, almost perfectly. Eric suddenly had a powerful urge to vomit, but struggled to repress it.

“Other side,� Mr. Rittevon said, with an amused undertone to his voice.

Eric looked up, into his face, bravely holding his employer’s piercing gaze as he slid his hand to the other side of his chest, a finger brushing the cold gem as he moved over the silken black necktie.

Almost automatically, he felt the opening of the pocket, and reached inside with a bit of difficulty. He noticed a small smile twitching at an edge of Mr. Rittevon’s mouth, but his blue eyes stayed cold, if not frighteningly intent, seeming to look through Eric’s own green ones, into his thoughts.

Eric forced himself to look away, and his hand found the folded handkerchief. He grabbed it and pulled his hand out quickly, the air suddenly seemed cold against it compared to the warmth of Mr. Rittevon’s body.

Eric handed the handkerchief to his employer, staring blankly as he wiped the blood off his hands. He didn’t notice as Mr. Rittevon lifted the handkerchief to his face, jumping as the soft cloth touched his cheek.

Mr. Rittevon whispered something Eric didn’t hear, and he realized his employer was cleaning the blood from his face. Nervously, Eric waited until Mr. Rittevon was finished, pulling the cloth away and folding it neatly to hold in his hand.

Mr. Rittevon stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and his steward. Eric instinctively stepped back, hitting the door.

Trapped, Eric was helpless to do anything but watch as his employer stepped forward again, reaching up his free hand to brush against his clean cheek. Eric let out a little gasp as Mr. Rittevon leaned forward, almost touching the side of Eric’s face with his own.

“Thank you,� Mr. Rittevon whispered, and stepped away suddenly. Eric wasn’t aware of the tense energy between them until it was gone.

“Tell Heinrich to fetch my bags,� Mr. Rittevon ordered, striding down the hallway away from Eric, who remained quiet, still wondering what had just transpired. “Didn’t you hear me?� Mr. Rittevon snapped, bringing Eric abruptly back into the present.

“Yes sir, sorry, sir,� Eric replied hastily, with a bow. Satisfied, his employer turned the corner and was gone. With a relieved sigh, Eric went to find Heinrich, taking slow steps down the hallway.

Suddenly, he had a daring thought. Against the advice of his conscience, he turned around and walked back to the room, at the end of the hallway.

Heart pounding, he reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open. Spattered drops of blood led to a trembling, disturbed Lott, who was being comforted by Mr. Frisch, who had his back to Eric.