S I X T E E N – 11:14 A.M.

MARK DIDN’T know which direction Sabrina had gone, but he had to guess. If she’d gone for the guns—hopefully she hadn’t—then she’d have gone North.
However, if she just wanted some time alone then she would’ve gone any direction but East. Grey was out there, not to mention Red. Mark had to find her before Red did.
“Well, do you think she’d have gone for the guns? Or do you think that she just wanted to have some “alone time”?” Mark didn’t wait for an answer; by the way she was talking about the situations before them she would’ve most likely gone to get some firepower.
Mark sprinted off North, expecting the others to follow. Surprisingly, they didn’t.
Emily, Rachael and Claire stood in the same spot Mark had seen them in two minutes ago.
“Aren’t you guys coming?” Mark gestured for them to go North as well. Rachael and Claire stared at the ground.
“Emily?” Mark looked quizzically at her.
“They need rest, especially Claire.” Emily was telling the plain, simple truth. They all needed to rest.
“Okay then. Emily, you know how to fire that thing, correct?” Emily just nodded.
“Good, then stay here with them while I—”
Bam! Mark’s face lightened a shade. Sabrina. Mark didn’t bother finishing his sentence. He sprinted off toward the guns, hoping that Emily got the message he was trying to send to her.

MARK ARRIVED five minutes later, rounding the corner aisle.
Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He stopped breathing for nearly five seconds, unbelieving what was before him.
Sabrina was slumped over on the floor, next to the makeshift gun cabinet. She was holding a Desert Eagle.
Sabrina was dead.
Mark couldn’t believe what he saw. He wouldn’t believe what he saw. Sabrina had evidently killed herself due to the frustration and tenseness brought on by the cruel “game” they were stuck playing.
Mark ran to Sabrina’s lifeless form, checking her pulse.
None, as he expected. There wouldn’t be a pulse, because she was evidently dead.
“Dear God,” Mark breathed. He bowed his head in sorrow, saying a short prayer for Sabrina. She didn’t do anything to deserve this!
“She did everything to deserve this, Mark.”
Mark looked up. Grey towered above him and Sabrina.
“Do you see what you do to people, Grey?” Mark demanded, gesturing toward Sabrina’s dead body.
“Yes, and I’m quite pleased with my work.” Grey leaned over, putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder. Mark shrugged it off, glaring at Grey.
“Oh, c’mon. Put a smile on.” Grey stood, casting a shadow over Mark.
“And now you’ve run out of people to kill. You’ve all held up the game because you all think that killing someone is wrong. If you’ve thought it then you’ve already done it.”
Come to think of it, Mark had thought of killing Sabrina at one point. Now she was dead. Mark stomach turned.
“Get up,” Grey tugged on Mark’s shirt. Mark stood, slightly shorter than Grey, he thought.
“Why haven’t you killed me Grey?”
“Because I’m not a player in the game.”
“But you told us—”
“Am I alive or dead, Mark?” It felt strange, chatting with a demon like Grey. Mark became nauseas at the thought.
Mark chuckled. “You tell me.”
Grey smiled at that. He patted Mark once more before vanishing.

EMILY LOOKED up. Mark had returned. No sign of Sabrina.
“Well, where is she?” Emily stood, greeting Mark in a sense.
“She’s—she’s dead.” Mark let his head drop. Emily, Rachael and Claire gasped.
“Dead? How?” Claire asked. She’d become as close of a friend to Sabrina as one could in this sick game.
“She committed suicide,” Mark managed. He sucked in a lung-full of air, letting it out slowly. He walked slowly over to Emily, sitting at her feet. Emily joined him, sighing.
“What now?” Emily said. None of them knew what was next, obviously, but it didn’t hurt to ask.
“I dunno,” Mark said. He’s devastated, Emily realized.
“You did all you could.” Emily offered. That surely wasn’t enough to comfort any of them, but it was an airbag, of sorts. She rubbed Mark’s back.
“Hey? It wasn’t your fault.” Emily spoke softly, attempting—failing to comfort Mark.
“If I’d have never sent her out she’d be here now.” Mark was thinking out loud, which relieved Emily. At least he’s thinking straight.
“Accidents happen, Mark. You can’t change the past.” Emily made yet another attempt at getting Mark to think of something else.
“Am I dead or alive?” Mark asked. Where had that come from?
“What?” Emily said. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what he meant.
“Grey asked me that,” he replied.
“Grey was there?” Emily noticed that Rachael and Claire hadn’t said anything since hearing the bad news.
“He arrived shortly after I did. He said, Am I alive or dead, Mark? I couldn’t answer it.” Emily pondered this—was Grey alive or dead?

——

Good way to end it all, isn’t it?

F I F T E E N – 10:59 A.M.

COBALT—SETH, fell into a chair at a nearby table. After learning that he could vanish as Grey had done so many times before, he knew he’d found his way out.
Seth wasn’t dead, thankfully. He didn’t know how he’d survived his confrontation with the demon called “Red”, but he had. That was all he cared about at the moment.
Seth was only bruised and cut, it seemed. He was exhausted. Clearly Red had spent far more time working than Seth had. It hadn’t taken much for Seth to realize that he was clearly in over his head.
I have to avoid Red till I have more skill. Seth let out a sigh. That sigh turned to a yawn. That yawn turned to dead sleep.

Seth’s world faded.

MARK AND Emily found Sabrina and the other girl, sitting against a pony wall. They were exhausted.
Emily stopped. She knew this other woman. Emily dropped her rifle, running to this stranger, evidently holding back tears.
“Claire,” Emily said. The woman—Claire evidently, sat in a state of shock. Emily didn’t bother waiting for her friend to stand; Emily sat next to Claire, saying nothing.
Mark saw Sabrina for the first time in almost a day. She had been taken beyond her physical limits, it looked. He wasn’t aware, however, of what Grey had put her through.
Sabrina rose slowly, unbelieving that she was seeing a familiar face—aside from Seth, who was dead till seen otherwise—for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Mark inched his way toward her, almost as unbelieving as her. Sabrina didn’t move. She stood there, still in a state of shock.
Of course, who wouldn’t be? She’d found Seth, but lost him to a demon known now as Red who was once just like them in every way imaginable.
“M—Mark?” Sabrina stuttered. A tear fell down her face. She was still for only another moment before running into his arms.
It was a weird feeling, to be sure. Should he be doing this? If Emily ever did love him as he did her she surely had some thinking to do now.
Mark did nothing immediately. Sabrina held him tight, refusing to let go. Mark hugged her lightly, but stopped before anything weirder happened.
He noticed Emily glancing over at him—she was smiling. Why? Unless she didn’t have the same feelings for him as Mark did her then why would she be smiling?
Because she loves you. Mark let the thought linger for a long moment. Sabrina released her vice grip, stepping back a few feet.
“I thought Grey had—”
“He didn’t. I’m alive and well.” Mark said.
“And Seth…” Sabrina’s voice trailed off. She was devastated.
“Seth did what he needed to,” Mark’s world was falling apart in his hands.
Sabrina couldn’t think straight. She’d found Seth and lost him almost as soon.
“Don’t let Grey take you too.” Sabrina hugged Mark again. She was crying. She was scared, tired and lonely. Emily stood, walking over to Sabrina.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” she said. Sabrina stopped and turned to Emily.
“How can you say that? Seth’s dead because of Red, we can’t get out until we’re all dead, and everything’s falling to pieces! Don’t tell me everything’s fine!”
Emily stepped back. She was crushed.
“Sabrina—”
“Stay away from me!” She screamed, batting Mark’s hand from her. She glared at Mark, then Emily, before walking off.
Silence enveloped the remaining three. Claire rose, walking to Mark and Emily.
“Where do you think she’s going?”
“I don’t—”
“What just happened?” Rachael appeared, leaning against a wall. She lifted away, strutting toward them.
“Sabrina just walked out on us.” Mark found a place on the floor and sat. He dropped his head.
“What do you think she’ll do?” Rachael asked what they were all thinking. Mark pondered that. What would she do? If she found the gun shelf then Mark could only imagine.
“Hopefully anything but what we’re thinking. She cannot find those firearms. We need to find her before she finds a gun.” Mark rose, walking past the three women, leaving them in the dust.
Mark figured they’d follow, seeing how it was that or be killed by Red, who evidently was immortal.

GREY HAD watched from a high place, observing his apprentice’s first battle with Cobalt. Obviously, Red had the upper hand. Did since he’d entered the fight.
Cobalt was gone—Grey knew he would be—before Red could finish him. But, on the bright side, he’d killed Chris. Six left.
But Grey had a plan to eliminate Sabrina. And Rachael, for that matter. Grey had to work things out in other places, he told himself.
Snap!

——

So, why am I only posting one chapter? Because, I’m not finished with the book and don’t want it all on the Internet. Guess you’ll just have to buy it to keep reading!

T H I R T E E N – 9:38 A.M.

SETH HAD spent most of the journey he and his group had made trying to figure out his supposed powers. He tried several things, but to no avail.
“Grey lied,” he admitted. “I have no powers. He told me that so that I’d waste my time trying to do something I couldn’t do.” Seth put a hand out to lean on a standing shelf to his left, indicating that he needed a rest.
But his hand never touched the shelf. The shelf flew two-and-a-half feet backwards before slamming into another shelf, creating a chain of falling shelves.
“What just happened?” Sabrina asked. Seth shrugged, too shocked to respond. What did just happen? He wondered.
“What happened was “mister disbelief” found his powers.” Came a voice. It was Grey. All four party members turned in unison to see none other than Grey standing six feet from them, leaning against a wall.
“And that means,” Grey began, stepping forward. “That Seth here is going to save all of you, if he makes the right choices.” Grey set a hand on Seth’s shoulder. A strange tingle shook Seth’s body.
“But I thought we had to kill each other?” Chris snapped. He had a point, Seth noted.
“Oh, you do. And he’ll start with my new apprentice, Starlight Red.” Grey snapped his fingers and vanished.
“Okay, so why did Grey just—” Sabrina was interrupted by Grey, who reappeared next to Claire.
“What? A guy can’t compliment another guy on his accomplishments? C’mon, give me a break.” Grey snapped his fingers again, vanishing.
Silence enveloped the group for a few seconds.
“So,” Sabrina began. “What were you saying about Grey being a liar?” She gave a wry smile. Seth returned it.
Maybe Seth could save them. Just not in the way that Grey suggested.

MARK HADN’T seen Grey for quite a while, which disturbed him beyond reason. Had he taken matters into his own hands and killed the others? Had Jack found the rest of Grey’s contestants?
Mark didn’t know, but cared to know deeply.
“We should rest,” Emily offered. Mark nodded.
“Yeah, we should. We’ll rest for ten minutes, enough to catch our breath before continuing.” Mark and Emily collapsed next to each other, bumping shoulders momentarily.
Rachael eyed the both of them, Mark noticed. I think I might be in love with this girl. Mark realized that he didn’t have a very good back-story involving girls, but he felt something he couldn’t place for Emily.
Five minutes past before anyone spoke.
“Emily,” Mark began. Emily looked over. “Can we talk in private?” Emily nodded before pushing herself to her feet. Mark followed her example, rising next to her.

MARK AND Emily went off in silence, staying a foot apart from one another, saying nothing. Emily would look over at Mark occasionally, for no apparent reason.
Once a safe distance away from Rachael, Mark stopped Emily. He motioned for her to sit, and he did the same. Mark thought for a minute, remembering what he was to ask.
“What’s up?” Emily asked.
“I have something to ask of you,” he said. Emily eyed him suspiciously. Here it goes, Mark thought.
“When you said you prayed for me to heal, and I did in a matter of hours, I knew that despite what I had been taught as a child, God had to be real in some way.” Mark paused.
“And?” Emily said. She knew where this was going, Mark told himself. He had to finish.
“After seeing what He did to me, no matter how many times I told myself that He wasn’t real, he still healed me. Why would he do that?” Mark wasn’t finished, but he needed clarification before finishing.
“He does things that no one but He understands. I can only think that He did what He did to try and bring you back to Him.”
Mark thought about this for a moment before going further.
“I want to have what you have. I want to know him, like you do.” Mark said it. He figured that if it was even possible, the chances would be slim. Very slim.
“You want to have a relationship with Him?” Emily verified. Mark nodded.
“Okay. Then repeat after me, alright?” Mark nodded again. Emily shut her eyes and bowed her head, gesturing for Mark to follow her example. Mark did.
“Now say, Dear God. Please have mercy on me, a Sinner. I know that I’ve pushed You away, but I want you to forgive me for that, I’m sorry for offending You. I want to have a relationship with You. Please, cleanse me of my sin, and purify me with Your blood. Send Your Holy Spirit down inside of me, to guide me. In Jesus name I pray, Amen.” Mark waited for Emily’s “okay” before opening his eyes.
“Mark, you did it. You’ve been washed clean by Christ.” Emily rejoiced. Mark knew he had done it, no matter how “the same” he felt at the time.
Mark opened his eyes and lifted his head, to see Emily wearing a huge smile. Mark stared at her for a long moment, before saying.
“Thank you, Emily.” Mark began to smile as well.
“Any time,” Emily replied.
Mark had different feelings for Emily now. She wasn’t just a friend anymore, Mark thought. He loved her. He loved Emily.
Mark stood, reaching a hand to Emily, who took it gratefully. The two walked back smiling, silent still.

GREY HADN’T texted Mark in a while, so he figured he’d do it in his spare time, which was now. Grey pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping it open.
I killed hundreds, maybe even thousands, Mark. Why? Because of you and your refusal to kill seven people. They don’t deserve to live anyway, Mark. But, I’ve told you that time and again, but you still don’t get it. I have no feelings. If I kill people, I feel nothing. I have no problem bringing this entire country to its knees just to get you to kill a few worthless people.

By the way, Jack has finally seen the light. He’s my new apprentice; Starlight Red. And unlike you, he’s willing to kill all of you just to get out of this hellhole we’re—you’re—stuck in.

Grey

Grey hit “send”. That’d get Mark heart racing, Grey thought. He hadn’t checked in on Jack in awhile. Snap! Grey vanished.

SETH HAD already remembered that he was a master, evidently, at bending air and using it for his own destruction. He’d recently learned that he could also manipulate ice and lightning.
Fire was the only one left to re-master. Seth had spent at least forty-five minutes trying to learn how to use fire, but without any luck.
“Seth, you haven’t said anything for over a half-hour.” Sabrina pointed out. What she really meant by the statement was, “Seth, stop messing around with your special powers and help us!”
“Sorry. Maybe I should take a break,” Seth offered.
“You think?” Sabrina replied, smiling. Seth nodded.
The group traveled another ten minutes, Seth still not talking at all.
“Hey guys?” He finally said. The three others turned to him.
“We were looking for guns, right?”
“Along the way, yes. Really we’re just looking for the other four.” Chris replied. “Why?”
“Because, I think I solved our gun problem.” Seth pointed to a standing shelf on his left. In unison his three friends’ mouths dropped. Sitting on the shelves were rifles.
“Now we’re in business,” Chris muttered. Seth reached over, looking through the assorted weapons. Mossberg’s, Colt .45’s, and even a few MP5A4’s littered the shelves!
Seth reached for an MP5, which he preferred over the rest of the guns. He checked the clip, which was filled to maximum capacity. He grabbed three more magazines and shoved them in his back pockets.
Chris had taken two .45’s and strapped an M4 Carbine to his back. Seth and Chris turned to Claire and Sabrina.
“What?” The two women said in unison.
“Get some sort of protection,” Seth snapped. He mostly directed this toward Sabrina, but Claire wasn’t forgotten. Sabrina stared at Claire.
“You’ve never shot a gun, have you?” Seth asked Sabrina. She just shrugged. Seth picked out a Glock, tossing it to Sabrina. Chris did the same for Claire, giving her a 9mm.
“What’s this for?” Sabrina demanded.
“I’m teaching you how to use it,” Seth said. It was a command, but by the looks of it Sabrina took it as a suggestion.
“No thanks. I’d rather—”
“You don’t understand. You don’t have a choice. Grey’s got his ways of separating us, and you need to be ready for that.” Seth tilted his head to the right, gesturing for Sabrina and Claire to follow.
They did, no matter how uneager they were.

Seth, followed by Sabrina, Claire and Chris, walked about forty feet from the firearms to an open area. Seth held up a hand, telling them to stop.
“Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.” Seth ran another five feet before vanishing into one of the side aisles.
He was looking for something big, like a target, for them to shoot at. Grey would be perfect, but he wasn’t available at the time.
Here’s something. Seth picked up a badly painted piece of art and hurried back to the others.
Seth appeared in front of the others two minutes later. They still stood in a line, evidently waiting for Seth to return.
“What’s that for?” Claire asked. It was the first time she’d spoken since Seth had met her. She was talking about the painting.
“It’s a target,” Seth said. He ran eight feet ahead of the others, hanging the piece of art on a nail in the wall.
Seth walked back, past Sabrina and Claire, to Chris.
“You can fire a gun, right?” Seth murmured.
“Heck yeah, active Marine Corp. I can do way more than fire a gun.” Seth nodded. This guy can do way more than fire a gun!
“Impressive,” Seth commented. He walked back to the front of the group, setting his gaze on Sabrina.
“That artwork is the target.” Seth pointed at the framed art, to clarify to them what he meant.
“Sabrina, step forward.” Seth waved her on. She stepped two-feet forward.
“Okay. The most important thing—one of the most important things—is to breath before you shoot. Otherwise your aim will be off. The other important thing is to have your allies out of the way of fire.”
Sabrina nodded.
“Am I out of the way?” Seth asked.
“Yes,” Sabrina said. Seth held back laughter.
“What?” Obviously she knew what he was trying not to do.
“You’re wrong,” Chris said for Seth. He stepped forward, next to Sabrina.
“And you’d know how?” Sabrina snapped.
“I’m active Marine Corp., that’s how. If he’s in front of you, then he’s in the way.”
“But he’s off to the side!” Sabrina offered.
“You’re right,” Seth said. “But what if you were to accidentally tilt the gun just before you fired? I’d die.” Seth nodded, telling Chris that he was taking control again. Seth stepped behind Sabrina.
“Am I out of the way now?” Seth asked. The answer is obvious, Seth thought.
“Yes, now can we move on?” Sabrina was growing impatient. Seth turned to Chris.
“This may take a while. You can go find something else and teach Claire if you want.” Seth offered.
“Good idea,” Chris replied. He ran back from where they’d come and disappeared. He must’ve seen something when we came that way.
“Alright, Sabrina. Take a shot. Remember to breath.” Seth said.
Sabrina took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly.
Bam! Sabrina’s gun bucked. Clearly she wasn’t prepared for that. Seth pushed Sabrina’s gun down, then went to inspect the damage.
“Well, Sabrina. Good and bad news. The good news is you got a bull’s eye. The bad news—you didn’t hit the painting.”
“Well then what’d I—” Seth flew backward, slamming into Sabrina, knocking her over. Seth pushed himself up, helping Sabrina to her feet. Sabrina looked up at the wall that the painting hanged upon.
“Oh God,” Sabrina said under her breath. The painting wasn’t there. And for that matter, neither was the wall. Stepping through a hole the size of a wrecking ball was a tall, muscular figure with long black hair, wearing a very dark red trench coat, black leather gloves, and crocodile skin boots almost identical to Grey’s. The figure stood before them, not saying a word.

It was Red.

MARK’S TEXT alert went off. It was the first time in nearly a day that he’d heard the familiar sound.
Mark checked his inbox. A text from 767-6670.
Grey.
“Crap,” Mark muttered. Emily and Rachael stopped, turning to Mark.
“What?” Mark looked up. Both of his companions showed concern.
“Grey sent me a text.” Mark said. He ignored the two, opening the message. He read through it slowly and carefully, reading every letter and punctuation mark.
Mark finished reading it, and looked up at Rachael and Emily.
“What’d he say?” Rachael asked. Evidently Emily wanted to ask as well, but couldn’t.
“I killed hundreds, maybe even thousands, Mark. Why? Because of you and your refusal to kill seven people. They don’t deserve to live anyway, Mark. But, I’ve told you that time and again, but you still don’t get it. I have no feelings. If I kill people, I feel nothing. I have no problem bringing this entire country to its knees just to get you to kill a few worthless people.
By the way, Jack has finally seen the light. He’s my new apprentice; Starlight Red. And unlike you, he’s willing to kill all of you just to get out of this hellhole we’re—you’re—stuck in.”
Rachael and Emily had both become petrified. Emily was the first to speak this time.
“So, he killed so many hundreds—maybe thousands—because we’re not playing his game like he wants us to?” Emily knew she was dead-on. Mark nodded.
“Text him back,” Rachael demanded. Mark tilted his head slightly.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” Rachael snapped, pulling out her phone. She shut out the outside world, attempting to talk to Grey.
“What’s his number?” She asked minutes later.
“767-6670,” Mark said. Emily stared at Mark with wide eyes, telling him to stop her. Mark shook his head. Whatever she needed to know from Grey was something important, or she wouldn’t bother asking him.
Rachael shut her phone, looking at Mark and Emily.
“Are we gonna keep going?” She said. Without waiting for a response, she turned and began walking again. Mark followed Rachael after a moment. He expected Emily to do the same.
Emily did.
Mark wondered where this massive murder had occurred. The United Nations? D.C.? Mark didn’t care to know at the time. He cared about two things, avoiding Jack—Red—and finding the others.

——

F O U R T E E N – 10:22 A.M.

RED STEPPED through the giant opening in the wall. He’d found his first four victims, and he wouldn’t even have to put up a fight to eliminate them from the equation.
Red watched as Cobalt—the one Grey had referred to as Seth—pushed himself to his feet. Red said nothing, waiting for the time to strike.
“Jack?” One of the females said. Claire. Red felt nothing for her now. He felt nothing for any of the sorry Sinners.
Jack said nothing, staring at Cobalt. Cobalt motioned for Claire to stop talking, and he obeyed. Clearly they knew this was his job and not theirs.
“Jack?” Cobalt said. He stepped forward a few feet.
“Please, call me Red.” Red stepped forward, challenging Cobalt. It was nearly time to attack.
“Red. Okay,” Seth inched forward, attempting to surprise Red. Red held a hand to the side, picking up a four-foot piece of cement from the ground. He kept it airborne without effort, evidently impressing the two females.
“This is just the beginning of what I am capable of. Care to try me? One bit of advice Seth, don’t move another inch or I’ll answer for you.” Red had made his point.
“We’ve never met. How do you know my name?” Seth demanded. Red lifted the concrete higher into the air.
“Grey has told me so much about—”
Bam! Bam! Bam! Red watched Seth’s face turn white. Red threw the concrete, which was suspended twelve-feet above him, threw a wall. He turned on his heels to his right, where Chris stood.
He was firing an M16 at Red.
Red stretched a hand out, taking the M16 from Chris’s hands. The gun came to Red, landing in his hand. Red looked at it for a moment, contemplating whether he should shoot his former friend or have some fun with him.
He chose the latter.
Red whipped out his free hand, stopping the bullets just inches from Jack’s head. Red didn’t even look up at the projectiles. He drew them to his free hand, letting them drop into his hand.
Red figured he’d put on a show. He made a fist, pressing down firmly on the bullets. A loud bang! sounded seconds later, followed by a large flash.
Red opened his palm, revealing brass shards. He threw them to the ground and kicked them away from him.
And now for the grand finale, he thought. Red took the assault rifle and broke it over his knee. Red tossed the broken firearm to the side, looking up at his spectators.
They were in awe. That was good.
Cobalt was whispering something to his companions. Red inched closer to his victims, who now began to retreat behind Cobalt.
“He can’t protect you,” Red spat. He stopped, nine-feet from victims, glaring at Cobalt.
“Obviously Grey never told you what I’m capable of.” Cobalt said.
“Evidently. Not that it’ll matter. I’m ten times more powerful than you’ll ever be.”
Red heard Chris running at him. Red turned on his heels and propelled Chris ten feet in the air, before throwing him through a wall.
Chris attempted to get to his feet, but failed. Red walked over to his fallen prey, smiling widely. Hatred filled Red’s eyes, and adrenaline raced through him.
Red picked Chris up, glaring at him.
“You actually thought you’d kill me?” Red whispered in Chris’ ear. Chris’ groaned, attempting to free himself.
Red tossed Chris aside, letting him hit another wall before slumping onto the ground, dead to the world.

Cobalt went then.
Red knew that in a matter of mere seconds he would be crushed by Cobalt’s brute force if he didn’t move. Red jumped seven-feet in the air, performing a back flip and flying over his opponent.
Red had his target where he wanted him. He lashed out, kicking Cobalt into a wall.
Red, evidently enjoying his moment of triumph, over-rotated his flip. Red landed on his heels, rolling back a few feet.
When he looked up Cobalt was above him, preparing to strike. Red snapped his fingers, disappearing just seconds before Cobalt destroyed the ground where Red once sat.
Red formed a fist, squeezing hard. A small flash appeared in Red’s hand. He opened it, revealing an orb. The orb was made from lightning, and it floated inches from Red’s palm.
Red threw the orb at a blinding speed toward Cobalt. Cobalt saw the orb coming and evaded it, performing a side roll.
Red snapped his fingers, and the orb exploded. The orb’s explosion would impact anyone within a four-foot radius. And Cobalt was in that radius.
Electricity hit Cobalt, stopping him mid-roll. Cobalt slumped to the ground for a moment, smoking. Red took this moment to his advantage.
Red charged for Cobalt, but was stopped short. Cobalt tossed a piece of concrete at Red, sending him ten feet before hitting another wall.
Red recovered, but not before Cobalt towered over him. Cobalt glared at Red, and Red returned it.
Unsuspectingly, Red kicked Cobalt in the stomach, sending him flying across the room. Cobalt smashed through a wall, falling limp.
Red pushed himself up, glancing over his shoulder at the evidently shocked group of bystanders. Red returned his focus to Cobalt, who hadn’t moved since hitting the ground.
Red walked casually to the broken wall that Cobalt had gone through, inspecting the damage. Obviously there was cement blocks; smoke; rebar.
And one injured opponent. Red reached a hand out, propelling Cobalt in front of him. Red walked to an open area, effortlessly carrying his fallen opponent to his side.
“He didn’t really put up much of a fight.” Red threw Cobalt into the air, momentarily forgetting about him. Red closed his eyes for a split-second before opening them again.
Cobalt was falling fast, too close to the ground to comfort any of his friends. At the last second, Red stopped Cobalt, just feet from death. Red turned on his heels, tossing Cobalt into a row of shelves.
Cobalt slammed into the metal shelves, now definitely unconscious. Shelves clattered, falling like dominos throughout the building. Cobalt was crushed by a shelf only seconds later.
Red turned back to Claire and the other women.
“Would either of you whores care to challenge me? Or can I just strangle you both without you putting up a fight?” Red smiled, relishing the moment.
“You can go straight to hell!” Chris said unexpectedly. He’d managed to push himself up to his feet. He’d evidently gone to the shelf holding the weapons, and had returned with an MP5A4.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Chris fired off three rounds, all aimed for Red’s temple. Red didn’t move immediately. He had control, not some religious Sinner.
Red didn’t want to die, and therefore he wouldn’t die.
Red made a one hundred and eighty degree turn, pulling a 9mm on his challenger. Bam!
Red didn’t bother dropping the gun to stop the bullets. Red watched as his bullet entered Chris’s skull, exiting the other side. Chris dropped to the ground, dead.
Red then dealt with Chris’s bullets. He dropped the gun, catching the bullets in his hand. He tossed them in front of him, stomping on them.
And explosion went off, making Red unsteady. The ground shook for only a second, before returning to its flatness. Red looked up at Claire and the other women, who were evidently scared beyond reason. Had been since Red appeared ten minutes earlier.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Red demanded. He crossed his arms, laying them across his chest.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
Gunfire again. Red didn’t feel anything other than a tug on his right arm. He looked down, noticing a river of blood pouring from the bullet wounds.
He knew Mark and the rest had come. Grey had explained that much. Red ignored the sound of gunfire and the tug from his arm being pelted with bullets.

MARK HAD found a shelf holding various guns. He’d chosen an M4 Carbine. He’d also taken multiple clips for it along with a Desert Eagle, which he’d put in his back pocket.
Emily had insisted that she could shoot, picking out an SR-25 sniper rifle. She’d evidently been hunting more than once, as she’d also claimed.
“Run!” Mark told Sabrina and the woman with her. He’d never seen her before, but figured it was one of the others. Mark had also noticed blood staining the carpet, which came from the head of another person. A man lay dead on the ground with a three-inch hole through his forehead.
Standing shelves had been knocked over; signs of a battle which had resulted in the death of one and possible death of another.

Mark kept his finger on the trigger, refusing to let off. If he couldn’t kill Jack—Red, then he’d distract him long enough for the others to leave.
A click indicated that Mark’s clip was spent. He threw it on the ground, jamming another into place. He continued firing at the demon that was Jack, who was evidently aware that he was immortal.
Mark looked over his shoulder, seeing that Sabrina and the other woman had escaped.
“Let’s get out of here!” He ordered. Rachael was waiting about a quarter of a mile out from Mark’s position.
Emily nodded, refusing to turn her back on Red. That would be a mistake. Mark signaled for Emily to run while he covered her.
Emily obeyed immediately, retreating to the aisle behind her.
Mark followed her lead, running from Red’s presence.

RED DIDN’T bother stopping them. They’d failed at killing him, as well as saving Chris and Cobalt. Red tasted copper.
Death. He wouldn’t die, he knew. They’d shot him in the arm and side, but nowhere vital to his survival. Red was numb. Numb to the multiple holes in him. Numb to the pain. Numb to this world.
“Run, run, run Mark. Keep running.”
Red knew that if Cobalt was anything like himself, then he wouldn’t be dead. Not close to dead. Red thought maybe he’d make Cobalt dead, but then he wouldn’t have anything fun to do.
Red tossed shelves left to right, attempting to uncover Cobalt. I’ll use him as bait, Red thought. Mark couldn’t survive without his friend to protect them. He’d come looking for Cobalt, Red knew.

Red finished moving the debris, chuckling.
“Impressive,” Red said. Cobalt wasn’t there. He was gone. Cobalt could teleport.

E L E V E N – 8:24 A.M.

SETH SAT on a pony wall, pondering what Grey had said earlier. Who’s Cobalt and why did Grey call me that?
“Because, genius.” A voice spat. It was Grey. Grey walked over to Seth and sat down next to him.
“Man, you’re really tired, aren’t you? A few hours ago you would’ve attempted to kill me if I did this.” Grey chuckled.
“Eh, if you wanted me dead then—” Grey stared wide-eyed at Seth, meaning to say, If I wanted you dead? I do want you dead.
“Right. Anyway, why did you call me Cobalt earlier?” Seth was still clueless.
“I told you. You’ll find out. Just letting you know this, though: Jack—one of the others—has been possessed, thanks to me. He can teleport, move things without touching them and much more. Better figure out why I said what I did before he finds you, Cobalt.” Grey gave Seth a gentle slap on the back, then snapped his fingers and vanished.
That never gets old, Seth thought.

——

T W E L V E – 8:25 A.M.

MARK HAD decided that they needed to rest. He stopped and sat on the floor. Emily and Rachael joined him as well.
“So, do you think we’ll survive this?” Mark asked. He’d meant for both Emily and Rachael to answer, but it seemed like it was directed toward Emily.
“I’ve been praying we do,” Emily said. She wasn’t lying; Mark had come to realize that simple fact. He glanced at Emily.
“What?” Emily looked back at Mark, blushing.
“Nothing.” Mark looked down. He glanced at his watch—eight twenty-five. “So, when do you think Grey’s gonna show up?” Mark didn’t really care at this point, but he figured he’d ask anyway.
“Dunno. Probably around ten o’ clock. He’ll want to check up on things to make sure we didn’t escape.” Emily winked at Mark.
Then Mark asked what they were all thinking.
“Do you think the others have begun killing each other?”
No one responded. No one could be certain, but Mark figured if anyone Seth. He’d already suggested it.
“Hey, all we can do is hope not.” Rachael finally answered. Silence followed those words. It lasted for three minutes at least.
Mark stood after the long silence. “We’d better keep going in case things did go wrong while we were absent.” Rachael had stood when Mark did, but Emily remained seated.
Mark held a hand out to her, and she took it. Mark pulled her to her feet, and then let his hand fall to his side. Mark saw that Rachael had already begun walking. He gave a gentle pat on Emily’s back, “C’mon. We gotta go.” Mark smiled, then turned on his heels and sped walked after Rachael.

SETH CONTINUED his search, not now for the guns, but for Sabrina. I hope she doesn’t think I’m coming to kill her, he thought.
And after all he’d said about doing it, she probably would.
He’d been out looking for something that probably wasn’t here, completely losing his way. “This is all going wrong,” he murmured. It was. Ever since Grey had taken his shotgun from him and forced them into this would-be rest stop to play his game.
Seth stopped. He heard someone talking. No, it was more than one person. It was a group of people. Players in this game.
“Hello?” Seth yelled. He stopped and listened again. Whoever was there had stopped talking. They’d heard him.
“Hello? Who’s there?” Seth said again. He began walking the direction of the voices.
“Hello? Seth?” Someone said. The voice was female. It was Sabrina’s. He’d found her.
“Sabrina? Yes, it’s Seth. Where’s Mark?” He asked. He couldn’t afford to lose Mark. He was the tactical man in this place. Seth was more the weapons expert here.
“I don’t know. I figured one of us would’ve seen him by now. Stay there. We’re coming to find you.” Sabrina demanded.
Seth stopped, leaning against a shelf.
A minute later Sabrina and two others—one male and a female—who Seth wasn’t familiar with, emerged to his right. Sabrina saw that it was Seth and ran to him. She held him tightly.
“So, what happened out there?” Seth asked Sabrina. She stood back, staring at the two behind her. “They found me and we’ve been together since. You?”
“Well, let’s see. I had multiple encounters with Grey, one of which nearly cost me my life. He refers to me as Cobalt and says that I have strange abilities, but that I forgot how to use them when I was banished from a place he called Paradise. He said that someone named Jack has these same powers and is hunting us, intending to kill us all. According to Grey, Jack is his new apprentice. Also, he said that I’d better remember and refine my skills because before this ends I’ll have to face him. That about sums it up.”
Sabrina and her two friends stared, unbelieving.
“It’s true,” Seth assured them. Finally the man stepped forward. “It’s a miracle you’re still alive. And, as for the whole Jack thing, I’m still shaken. I know him. But anyway, I’m Chris Ramley.” Chris held out a hand. Seth shook it lightly.
“And this—” Chris gestured toward the woman, “—is Claire Reese. We’re two of the others.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Seth Simns, with the C.I.A., as is my friend Mark Richards. Hopefully he didn’t get himself killed.” Seth had all but forgotten Mark till now.
“What’re we waiting for, then? Let’s find the rest.” Chris suggested. Seth nodded. “And while we’re doing that, I’ll try and remember my supposed “abilities”.”
Chris nodded. Then he motioned for Seth to lead the way. Seth took the lead, followed by Sabrina, then Claire, and Chris bringing up the rear.

JACK APPEARED in the diner as soon as he’d snapped his fingers. He couldn’t describe what happened in the one-millionth of a second that he was absent from the Universe.
“Time for your final lesson,” Grey said. He looked as if he knew exactly where Jack planned to be appearing. He did, most likely.
“So, is my final lesson how to read minds?” Jack looked quizzically at his mentor. Grey was sitting against a wall, one knee up and one leg stretched out. His arms were crossed as always.
“No. No, Jack, reading thoughts comes after long periods of time with your abilities already obtained.” Grey gave a slight smile.
“You’re lying. That much I know.” Jack chuckled. Grey just nodded. Jack waited for a reply.
“Yes, Jack. Yes I am. But honestly, you will almost never learn that. You just began training. I trained for over a century, and you’re not one hundred percent immortal. Age will kill you. But, I can guarantee that you’ll live a lot longer than typical humans.”
Grey paused.
“Now,” he began. “Your final lesson is in combat. You can’t survive another immortal by just snapping your fingers and appearing somewhere else. And you can’t obliterate one with a few well-placed punches, either. You have to use magic. Black magic, to most people.” Grey began pushing himself to his feet.
“Okay. So how do I learn “black magic”?” Jack snapped. Grey had pushed himself up, and stood with his arms still crossed over his chest.
“Well, you could keep that kind of an attitude and I could off you, or you can wait for me to get off the floor. Your choice.” Grey had his Desert Eagle pulled on Jack, aimed at his head.
Jack just swallowed hard and nodded. Grey knew what he meant with that nod. Grey put his gun away, and Jack sighed.
“Now. Let’s move on,” Grey said. He walked to Jack’s left, intending to make multiple circles around him.
“To use black magic you have to be able to bend the scientific law of gravity. And that, my friend, is where quantum physics come in.” Grey demonstrated by bending the air around him, creating a ball of air in his hand.
Grey pulled back his arm slowly before quickly punching it forward. The ball of air flew from Grey’s hand, smashing through shelves. “Cool, huh?” Grey said.
“Definitely,” Jack answered in awe. “But, in order to do this one must first ignite the fire.” Grey stared at Jack, evidently waiting for a response from him.
“What fire?” Jack finally asked. He had no clue what Grey meant, but it probably had to do with something within the Paradise.
“This fire.” Grey clapped, making the ground shake. A circle, now lit by the fire Grey had summoned, appeared at Jack’s feet. Evidently the fire Grey had talked about.
The fire burned bright before Jack, making Jack sweat.
“Now, you don’t know it, but you’re standing in the middle of a ring of fire, so to speak. But more importantly, you’re standing in the center of a cross.” Grey gestured for Jack to look at his feet. Jack did so without second thoughts.
Grey snapped, igniting the cross at Jack’s feet Jack shrugged, how hard could it be? Jack reached out to one point and attempted to touch it. Grey whipped out his Glock and shot not an inch from Jack’s hand.
Jack reeled back, saving his hand by a fraction of an inch.
“Not like that. That has a reverse effect. It is written, if one defiles the Five by making physical contact, their powers will immediately vanish and they will perish. In other words, you touch it you die. You have to think of touching each of the Five. If you really think about it, then the next step will come.”
“And what if I don’t?” Jack said. A hint of concern came those words. Grey didn’t respond.
“Grey?” Jack snapped.
“Sorry. Anyway, if you don’t you can’t use black magic and you never can. One chance.” Grey motioned for Jack to restart this process. Jack did.
Jack pushed out the real world, thinking of the Five and of touching each point. It took two minutes for Jack to finish.
Grey looked down, mumbling something from a different language that Jack didn’t recognize. After a minute or so, he looked up at Jack. “Next step,” he said.

Jack gave a sigh of relief, recognizing the fact that he’d done it.
“Alright. Now all that’s left is to combine the Cross and the Five to make the emblem of Paradise.”
The emblem of Paradise?
“Where’s the—” Jack didn’t bother finishing. Grey was drawing a Cross in the air, each line lighting up a bright white color. But it was upside down.
“Hey, Grey. I think you drew it—”
“No. It’s how the Cross is supposed to be made. Not how the deceivers showed you. This is what a Cross looks like.”
Grey finished Jack did the rest. Again, making a mental image of him combining the two illustrations to make the emblem of Paradise.
Jack opened his eyes, expecting to see Grey in front of him. Instead he was blinded by shallow red light. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized that Grey was still in front of him. But not inside the curtain of red with Jack.
Jack had also come to the realization that this had to be some sort of black magic in itself. He tried several times to push through the red eternity, but without luck.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the red light vanished into the circle. Then the circle’s once shallow red lines faded to cracks in the floor.
Jack and Grey stood in silence, Jack staring at the circle on the floor, Grey staring at Jack. Grey moved toward Jack.
“Lift up your right sleeve,” Grey ordered. Jack obeyed. What he saw when he slid his sleeve to his shoulder shocked him.
A black circle—perfectly drawn—with a cross in it. The cross was in flames. It was printed into Jack’s bicep. Jack looked up at Grey.
“What is this?” He demanded.
“The mark of Paradise’s king. I have one too,” Grey said. He rolled up his coat’s sleeve, revealing the same mark, but grey and not red. “What does this mean? How many others have this?”
“Only seven others,” Grey said.
“Who are they?” Jack asked. He rolled down his sleeve, and Grey did the same. Grey sat then; back against the same wall he had when Jack arrived.
“All of us belong to a group known as the Nine. The Nine consists of you, Hell’s Messenger; me, Hell’s mercenary; Black Apocalypse, Hell’s Keeper; Hades White, Hell’s Reaper; Cobalt White—formerly known as Hell’s Disciple—, now Hell’s Outcast; Starlight Red, Hell’s Saint; Crimson Steeple, Hell’s Ghost, and Silver Midnight, Hell’s Witch. Together we make the Nine.”

“Cool.” Jack said.
“Very,” Grey replied.

N I N E – 7:02 A.M.

JACK STOOD near a large window, waiting for Grey to return to help him. He’d been in that exact spot for over an hour, unmoving.
“Sorry I’m late, had a little trouble at the Canyon.” Grey said. He had evidently appeared behind Jack not a second ago.
“Obviously you’re okay,” Jack stood, walking slowly but surely toward Grey.
“Now, where to start?” Grey crossed his arms and lowered his head to his chest.
“How about you start by teaching me to use my new abilities?” Jack snapped. It sounded like a suggestion, but it was really a command. He glared at Grey.
Grey looked up and saw Jack. “Still bitter about your girlfriend?” He said. Grey uncrossed his arms and walked to Jack’s left.
“Maybe. Now, are we going to do this or not?” Jack demanded. He’d lost his patience, he realized, after being dead and reborn.
“Fine. First off, the ability to move things—that includes people—without touching them.”
Grey demonstrated by lifting Jack ten feet into the air, then setting him down gently. “It’s great that you can do it, but how do I?” Jack demanded.
“Do you believe?”
“Believe what? About Paradise and all that? Yes.”
“Well then, it’s pretty simple. All you have to do is say aloud that you believe it. Then stretch out your hand toward something you want to move—like me—and think about doing it. Simple as that.”
Jack hesitated for a moment before saying, “I believe.”
“Believe what, Jack? Be specific.” Grey said.
“I believe that I’ve been deceived by the “Christians”, and that I am going to Paradise.”
“There, now do what I told you.” Grey sat on a pony wall, waiting to be lifted into the air. Jack slowly stretched out his hand toward his new mentor, and then concentrated.
“What’re you doing?” Grey snapped.
“Thinking about—”
“No, you’re not. What you’re doing is concentrating. Your hand isn’t going to stretch over here and pick me up.”
“Alright,” Jack spat. This time he simply made a mental image in his mind about him lifting Grey into the air. And so it was.
He was suspending Grey in mid-air.
Wow. I did it. This could wreak some havoc. Jack slowly let Grey down, back to his seat on the pony wall.
“See? Easy, right? And you just have to think about it now, instead of saying all of that stuff in advance.” Grey stepped off the wall, letting his arms fall to his sides.
“Now, teleportation. The highlight of everyone’s training.”
“Who’s everyone? You’ve taught more?” Jack looked at Grey quizzically.
“Heck yeah. A few have become my students. One of them is in this place as punishment for running from me. I actually killed my previous apprentice at the Canyon because one, I needed to make way for you. Two, because he drew his gun on me.”
Jack had already made it a point to stay on Grey’s good side, which obviously meant not pulling guns on him. Unless, that is, he wanted to end up like Grey’s dead apprentice.
“Who’s the reject being punished?” Jack demanded.
“You’ll meet him in combat soon. He wants to kill you, Jack. He may’ve lost all memory of his powers, but he’s remembering them fast.”
Silence fell over the two.
“Anyway, on to the next skill,” Grey said. He stepped closer to Jack, and then stopped. “Alright, now to teleport you have to think and do.”
“How do I do?” Jack questioned.
“I was getting to that. Can you snap?”
“Yes,” Jack replied. He liked where this was going.
“Good. All you have to do is have either a mental image of where it is you want to go, or you’ve gotta be able to see the location. Simple, right?”
“Yeah. Seems that way, at least.” Jack let out a deep breath.
“Try it. Go to the Grand Canyon.” Grey ordered. Grey was now sitting back on his wall, watching Jack.
Jack thought about Abigail. He missed her. But, she was dead and he had cool new powers because of it. Snap! Jack had vanished from Triple T.

JACK REAPPEARED at the bottom of the Canyon not a second after snapping his fingers. “Teleportation’s cool.” He said.
“Told you—the highlight of every students training.” Grey was standing next to a big pine. With a dead C.I.A. agent hanging in the form of an upside down cross. “Your handy work, I presume?” Jack pointed at the C.I.A. agent.
“No. That’s actually my dead apprentices’ work. Red, was his name. Notice the knife stabbed into his chest, and the letter attached to it?”
Now that Jack thought about it, there was a knife and a letter on the dead man. Jack walked over and tore the note off, reading it aloud.
“You’d better have your wills made out. Red. I assume he wrote this for the tourists?” Jack crumbled the note up and threw it next to the tree.
“Yeah. Wanna see my handy work?” Grey asked. Jack nodded.

GREY LED Jack down into the Canyon. “So, why don’t we just teleport? I mean, we can.” Jack snapped.
“Because, it’s more fun to jump rock to rock.” Grey leaped from the giant rock slab he and Jack stood on to another which sat on the other side of an eight-foot gap.
Grey landed on the rock, sliding four feet before stopping himself. He stood, cocking his head back to Jack.
“What, you scared?” Grey toyed.
“Well, I’m not immortal, now am I?” Jack snapped.
“Actually, you are for the most part. Sure you won’t survive having a bullet shot through your head, or having vital organs torn out. Other than that, you can’t die. You can’t break a limb; you can’t die from blood loss.”
“Oh. That’s good to know, I guess.” Jack inched toward the edge of the rock slab, preparing to jump. Jack was ten feet from the edge of the rock before he ran.
Pushing off just before he would’ve fallen through the gap, he gave himself enough force to launch himself over the next slab of rock!
He landed roughly, landing on his shoulder and rolling. Jack stood in front of Grey, surprised at what he’d just done.
“Forward then,” Grey smiled and continued down the mountain of dead.

MARK, NOW fully recovered, had decided to rest one more hour for assurance that he could travel on his formerly broken leg.
After getting the assurance needed, Emily, Rachael and he set off in search of weapons and the others. What most concerned them was that Jack hadn’t been seen for nearly a day.
Mark was more concerned for Seth and Sabrina, though. They’d been unseen for over a day. They should’ve returned to the diner by now.
“Where to?” Emily asked.
“I dunno. I can’t even think of where to begin.” Mark replied. He couldn’t imagine what Grey had done to this rest stop in just twenty-four hours.
They knew full well that he’d expanded it and added onto it for the sake of his own game.
“Well, Jack probably went up to the Northern side, considering that’s where we found you. There was a chest there, right?” Rachael stared at Mark. She was evidently concerned most for Jack.
“Yeah. The fire Grey set obviously didn’t destroy the chest.” Mark looked at Emily, who blushed.
“Well then,” Emily began. “What’re we waiting for?” She walked up behind Mark and waited for his decision.
“Let’s go,” he finally said.

——

T E N – 7:59 A.M.

GREY HAD successfully reached the bottom of the destroyed Grand Canyon—a national monument Teddy Roosevelt said every American should see—with Jack trailing not far behind.
“C’mon, Jack. We’re here,” Grey motioned for Jack to stand next to him. Jack arrived only seconds later, marveling at what had happened just hours earlier.
“Wow. Who’d have thought that a few well-placed explosives could do all of this?” Jack couldn’t say much more.
“C4, actually.” Grey sighed, noticing the excited look on Jack’s face. “How’d you get it?” Jack asked.
“What? The C4? MY former apprentice—who I will introduce you to shortly—stole them from Fort Defiance.”
Jack just nodded. Grey watched while Jack walked down to the canyon floor. “So, where’re the dead?” He demanded.
“All over the place. This has got to be one of the worst—if not the worst—mass murder in the history of this country.”
“Cool,” Jack muttered.
“Very. Now, lift up that rock slab.” Grey pointed to a giant rock that lay about nine-feet long. “How can I—”
“Use your powers,” Grey ordered. Jack remembered he had them, and obeyed Grey immediately. Grey watched as Jack lifted the giant rock at least twelve-feet into the air, then suspending it for God knows how long.
Grey realized that what Jack saw was hundreds of dead. Jack stepped back, out of the way of the rock, and let it fall to the ground.
“Men, women, and even children. All because a few people refuse to kill seven others to make me happy.”
Jack cocked his head at Grey. “I’ll do it.” Grey wasn’t surprised. Sure, he’d predicted that it would be Seth that did the killing, but it turned out to be Jack.
“Of course you are. You want the others to suffer as much as you do, am I correct?” Grey stared Jack in the eyes for an entire five seconds. “Yes.” Jack managed.
He’s choking back tears, Grey thought.
“Now, back to business. Get back to the diner and finish what I started, if you would.” Grey walked past Jack, patting him on the shoulder as he went.
“Where’re you going?” Jack asked.
“Before I killed him, Red parked my Chevelle out about a mile, I’m gonna get that and drive to Triple T.”
“Speaking of Red, where is he?” Jack demanded. Grey didn’t speak, but instead clapped twice. A body propelled into the air. Red’s body, evidently.
“Try and leave within the hour. I killed at least three hundred military personnel, not to mention dozens of FBI and C.I.A agents earlier. They’ll be coming to clean up.”

JACK WATCHED his mentor walk out of his line of sight, then examined the dead body of Red’s.
“I’ve seen enough,” Jack muttered. He dropped the body like a sack of rocks. It slid down the rock slab and fell into a crevice.
Snap! Jack disappeared, bound for the diner.

O N E – 8:32 P.M.

MARK RICHARDS, a twenty-one year old with black hair, pushed his two thousand and eight Pontiac Solstice down Interstate 10, bound for Phoenix, Arizona. He’d planned to visit his parents in Austin. His life in the CIA was full of action, and it was nice to relax when Mark got the chance.
Things had gotten a lot more hectic since Mark had started back in oh-two. How’d the World get this way? Was what he wondered whenever he got an assignment.
Mark looked at his speedometer: one-oh-one. Wait? How—Mark must’ve been daydreaming. In any case, Mark was lucky that there were no cops. Strange.
Mark eased off the accelerator, bringing the Solstice to a steady eighty-five miles. Mark reached for the CD player when his phone began ringing. Text message.
Mark took it from the cup holder and slid it open. Who was this? Mark hadn’t seen this number before. 767-6670. Mark checked his inbox, wondering who the mystery texter was.
One new message. Mark selected it and read it over in his mind:

Hello, Mark. Remember me? Then again, why wouldn’t you?
Anyway, you have seven minutes to get your butt over to Triple T. Got it?
It’s time your desires were fulfilled.

Grey

Who was Grey? Mark’s heart skipped a beat on the last sentence: it’s time your desires were fulfilled. What did Grey mean? What desires? Mark wasn’t sure, but at this point, he didn’t care.
He checked his rear-view mirrors for cops, but none were there. Come to think of it, no one was there! Mark’s heart pounded. He gunned his Pontiac, sending smoke up behind him. Rubber burned, Mark could smell it. He drove frantically, searching for an exit to Triple T. There; not a mile from him.
Seeing the exit, Mark kept his foot down, all the way down. Mark’s phone, now in his lap, began ringing again. Another text.
Mark slid his phone open with enough force to slide the slider clear off. He checked his inbox, where another text awaited him.

Three minutes, Mark. Better hurry before something bad happens, and I mean bad.

Grey

“Crap.” Was the only thing that came to Mark at the moment. That and the fact that he had about two and a half minutes to get to Triple T before something bad happened.
It took another minute to get to Triple T, where Mark didn’t even turn off the car but instead jumped out and checked the clip on his silenced Desert Eagle that he always kept. Loaded. He racked the slide and ran for the entrance of the abandoned gas station.
The doors flew open, allowing Mark a quiet entrance. He’d turned his phone to vibrate, in case the texter sent another one. Triple T was quiet, stranger than the fact that the Interstate was empty.
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Time’s almost up, Mark.”
Mark turned around and fired. Now all hope for stealth was gone.
“Tsk, tsk. Wasting ammo won’t help you. You must fulfill your desires.” Someone breathed. By the sound of the voice, it was male, and it was close. Mark walked to the checkout counter, where the voice came from. Mark bent over the counter, not a smart move, but it was all that came to mind.
“Time’s up,” the voice came. West, now. Odd.
“What? But I’m—” Mark never finished. A gun went off, followed by a blood-curdling scream. North, not West. “Time to pay up, Mark.” Another shot, another scream. This man was a killer. And, therefore, was killing people.
Most likely because of Mark’s refusal to pay up. “What desires?” Mark yelled at air. No response.
“Don’t play stupid, Mark. What desires?, surely you aren’t that stupid.”
Bam! Another scream. How many was that? Three, if Mark counted right. And by the sound of the gunshots, it was a shotgun, low-gauge too; maybe a four-gauge, Mark thought.
“Mark, pay up. I really hate doing this, but you promised.” Boom! No scream this time. Silence enveloped Mark instantly. What was this guy? A psycho? Evidently so. Either that, or a guy with a very twisted ideology. Mark took both into thought. Probably a mixture.
Either way it disturbed Mark to the core. Honestly, who would do this? Of course, that was a stupid question coming from him; he had to deal with this every day!
“Mark…pay, six to fulfill, seven to make me happy.” What? Did he mean—Bam! Mark heard it, the shotgun.
Silence.
Mark could hear his breathing, which was heavy. What was that about? Mark thought. There still wasn’t any response from “Grey”—whoever that was.
“H-hello? Is anyone here?” Who was that? A female, by the sound of the voice. “Hello? Who’s there?” Mark replied.
No reply.
Mark listened. Straining to hear the voice. But, with no luck. He listened for five seconds, and heard nothing. Well that was weird. Mark walked down the aisles, searching. “Come out, come out, wherever you ar—” Mark heard footsteps. Running, not walking.
“Hello? Please! Don’t leave me! He’ll kill me!” The women was close. Mark turned around to see a women, about twenty-two, came to a stop not ten feet from him. “Who’re you?” She asked, curiosity in her voice.
“My name is Mark. Mark Richards. You?”
“Sabrina. Himmerdale. Wh-where did you get in?” She pointed at him.
“Through the front. Why?” Mark’s voice carried a hint of concern. He thought it odd that she didn’t know how he got in.
“But…” Sabrina’s voice trailed off.
“But what?” This girl aggravated Mark already. Her blonde hair covered her right eye. “That’s impossible. I tried that door half an hour ago, and it was locked.”
“What? I—did you get a text?” Mark asked.
“A disturbing one, yes.”
“Mine was from 767-6670. Yours?” Mark slid his phone open.
Meanwhile, Sabrina stood in shock. “The same,” she said. If Mark was right, her face had lightened a shade.
“I got the text this morning, what’d yours say?” She looked at Mark’s phone.
“Hold on,” Mark held up a finger.
“I’ll send you my message,” Sabrina pulled out her phone and went to work. Mark had received another text, though he wasn’t sure when.

Mark, there’s number one right in front of you.
And two and three are here too. Go for it. Fulfill your hearts desires.

Grey

“What the—”
“What’s your number?” Sabrina said without looking at him.
“Five-oh-eight-three-one-seven-nine.”
For a moment there was silence.
“Alright, I sent i—” Mark’s text alert went off. Must be Sabrina’s. He slid his phone open and opened the text. Only it wasn’t from Sabrina.

Seriously Mark. I’m not that naïve.
The texts received are for your eyes only, same with the girls.
Do it, pay me. You have till dawn. Seven people.
And yes, I changed my mind, I want seven, not six. Don’t play stupid, either.
It won’t help the situation. Kill them and you live.
You have till dawn, then I’m coming.

Grey

“I—but…” Mark couldn’t finish a sentence. He was too shocked from the whole thing. “What?” Sabrina carried worry. Mark looked up, staring at her with blue eyes. “I—your text wasn’t received.”
“That’s what this is about? That’s why you’re freaking out?” Sabrina was agitated. But at the time, Mark could care less. One thing went through Mark’s mind: the texts received are for your eyes only, same with the girls.
That and “do it, pay me. Six hours”, but that was out of the question. He couldn’t kill this innocent women, no matter how much she annoyed him. She was scared, lost, and had just found a thread of hope.
“Mark?”
“Sorry. It’s just…” Mark shook his head.
Sabrina walked to Mark and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Tell me,” she prodded. Her attempts to comfort him weren’t working.
“I—I can’t.”
“What? Why?” She demanded. She was scared, if Mark was guessing right. But, after what she’d been through, he couldn’t blame her.
“He told me I can’t, he’s probably watching us right now.” Mark looked around. “Why do you say that?”
“He blocked your text from coming through, how else could he know?”
“To heck if I know,” Sabrina walked away. She was leaving.
“Where’re you going?” Mark demanded. And though he knew, he wanted to know why. “To find a way out. To think things through. Things like my life, this mess.” She kept walking.
“What? Grey—whoever that is—is out there! In this gas station! He’ll kill you if you leave my company! I’m the only one with a—” Mark heard something. Footsteps. Running, again. They were coming from behind him. Mark turned to see to see a man, running at them.
Sabrina turned around.
“It’s him!” She whispered.
And Mark knew it was, his trench coat was trailing behind him, shot gun over his shoulder. Knife in hand.
Granted Mark hadn’t ever seen him before.
Grey wore a black trench coat and black crocodile skin boots. His metal gloves had three and a half inch spikes on them. And that hood. A black hood attached to his coat veiled his face entirely, save for his mouth.
“Hello, Mark.” He spat. Grey had stopped. He just stood there, fifty feet from Mark. “Welcome home,” Grey lifted his shotgun toward Mark.
He was going to shoot him.
“Get down!” Mark yelled back, but Sabrina was gone. Great, while I face death, Sabrina gets to run free through the gas station. Mark did the only thing that came to mind: he fired. The Desert Eagle’s high velocity round didn’t even scratch Grey.
“Poor, naïve Mark. I can’t be killed, don’t you remember?”
Boom! Grey’s shotgun recoiled, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Mark ducked, as the round tore the aisle apart.
Mark rolled left, into another aisle, where he ran. I swear, if I get out of this, I won’t ever come in here again!
Boom!
The shotgun was tearing the station to shreds. Two more shots. Boom! Boom!
And then, abruptly, it stopped. “Mark?” Grey demanded.
“What the heck do you want, demon?”
“Now it’s not nice to call people names,” Grey threw his knife at Mark, tearing into his shoulder, and pinning him to the wall. Mark screamed in pain.
“There, now listen you freak.” Grey pointed his gun at Mark.
“All I want is for you to do what you want…” Grey fired at the ceiling, making holes in the drywall.
“And that would be?” Mark snapped.
Boom! Another shell destroyed a foot-and-a-half of wood paneling to Mark’s left, just past his ear. “If you’re really that stupid, then why don’t I just kill you?”
Mark knew, as well as Grey, that he wouldn’t kill him.
“I don’t know,” Mark toyed, “why don’t you?” Grey chuckled, then shook his head. “I really don’t feel like killing you at the time, Mark. Please just do it,” Grey dipped his head.
Then, he looked at the knife embedded in Mark’s shoulder, and closed his eyes. The knife pulled away from Mark, leaving a two-inch gash all the way through his shoulder.
The knife returned to Grey’s left hand, and Grey stilled.
“Seven hours, and then I’m coming back.”
Grey turned, and walked halfway down the center aisle before turning around again.
“And Mark?” Grey’s eyes were covered, but were undoubtedly on Mark.
“What does the whore want now?” Mark held his bleeding shoulder.
“I’d better be at least half happy when I return,” Grey turned then and shot the ceiling.
Then all was silent.
That is, until Grey jumped ten feet from the ground and blasted through the roof.
Silence enveloped Triple T—now in ruins—immediately.
Now to find that girl, Mark pushed himself up, and then was walking down the center aisle.

SETH SIMNS stood on the floor of the Grand Canyon, watching. Waiting.
His assignment had been to track down a killer that had rampaged through all of Southern Arizona.
Seth’s walkie-talkie squawked. It was Lindsay.
“Seth,” he said.
“Where the heck are you?” Lindsay demanded of him.
“Umm…at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Why?” Lindsay wouldn’t like that, Seth knew.
“At the bottom of the what?” Told you. He corrected himself.
“Grand Canyon,” Seth answered.
“Okay. Why? I thought you were supposed to be tracking that killer?” Lindsay’s voice came through.
“I am. His last victim he threw from the railing. Over a mile to the bottom.”
Static filled the walkie.
“Wow.” Lindsay finally replied.
“I know, talk about a long way to fall.” Seth said. He walked along the canyon floor, examining the soil. All undisturbed.
Seth walked on, watching the ground.

But nothing was out of place. Hmm…nothi—wait! What’s that?
“Lindsay? I found—”
Bam! Bam! Bam! Seth was being shot at.
“What the—” Seth turned to the shots, and returned fire. Someone stood on a rise fifty yards from him, clad in a black leather trench coat, crocodile skin boots, metal gloves with three and a half inch spikes, and a hood that veiled all but his mouth.
“Hello, Seth. Remember me?” The attacker said. He twirled two Desert Eagles around before sliding them home, into the crocodile skin holsters on each thigh.
Seth said nothing. How could this phantom know his name?
“H-how do you—”
“Your name? Pathetic. I didn’t remember you being that stupid. A lot’s changed, I guess.”
Bam! Bam! Phantom fired again. This time, it came inches from Seth’s right ear. “Now, let me help refresh your memory,” the phantom snapped.
“My name is Grey. Grey Twilight, that is. Remember now?”
“Not really,” Seth replied. Honestly, he had no idea who Grey Twilight was. Just some creep with some moves, as far as Seth was concerned.
“What? That stupid already? Too bad for you,” Grey shot, grazing Seth’s left shoulder and forearm. Seth stared at the gash, which now began spilling out blood. Merely a flesh wound, though. Obviously, if Grey wanted to kill him, he would’ve done it already.
“Alright, enough wasting ammo on a worthless prey. Down to the point.”
Grey approached Seth with the confidence of God Himself. Not that Seth believed in religion.
“The reason I came was because a friend of ours is in deep trouble,” Grey stopped ten feet from Seth.
“What friend?” Seth managed. How could this creep know any of his friends?
“What friend?, please. Try not to be so stupid!” Grey shot at the sky, scaring Seth. “Now,” Grey continued. “Our friend is Mark Richards. He’s trapped in Southern Arizona right now. Triple T, to be exact.”
What? But that’s on I-10!
“Crap,” Seth muttered.
“That’s right crap. I went through all of this trouble, and Mark too. Please understand that if you don’t go to Triple T, then Mark will die. And you will be to blame.”
And then, with those last words, Grey disappeared.
Crap, crap crap!
“Lindsay? I need every agent available at Triple—”
“No, no Seth. No one finds out. Not yet, anyway. Play by the rules.” Grey? How?
It didn’t matter at the time, Seth had to get to Triple T.

SABRINA!” MARK had found her. Sabrina was sitting near the fire exit on the other side of the gas station.
“Sabrina,” he walked to her and put a hand on her shoulder. Never had he been so glad to see this woman. Especially since half an hour ago she annoyed the heck out of him.
“What? Y-you’re alive? But—”
“Long story. Right now we have to get out. Grey sucked us into this hellhole to play a game, and the goal is to fulfill our “desires”.”
Sabrina just stared; too scared to respond.
Silence shadowed over the two for two minutes.
“Alright,” Mark stood, “you ready?” He held out a hand.
She took it gratefully.
“Let’s go,” she said, evidently scared.
The two walked down the center aisle in silence. Hand in hand.
Which was uncomfortable for Mark; he’d never had good feelings about girls.

What are you doing, Mark? You know you never had a good impression on girls. Mark dismissed the thought immediately.
Who was he kidding? This woman was scared to death because some psycho had trapped her here alone. And this is one of the many reasons why I don’t do girls. I’m too selfish, and too scared.
“Hey Mark?” Sabrina stopped. What now?
“What?” He said.
“You know how we were heading down the main aisle?”
“What about—” Mark saw it then. The main aisle had become the basement. Wait, Triple T had a basement?
“Mark, wh-where are we?” She said, obviously scared. Then again, why wouldn’t she be?
One minute, they were walking down the main aisle, hoping to get out. And the next they’re in the basement of a gas station!
And for all they knew, it might not even be the gas station’s basement.
“Crap,” Mark thought out loud. How the heck had they come here? Grey, no doubt.
“He wants us to stay here,” Sabrina was biting one of her fingernails.
“Evidently.” Mark said.
They were trapped here, and they knew it. One way to get out, but that wasn’t an option. At least, not yet.

SETH RACED down I-10 in his oh-six Corvette.
“Lindsay?” He demanded through the car’s radio.
No response.
“Lindsay?” He said again. She was never away from her walkie, no matter how bad the situation was.
“S-Seth?” Lindsay’s voice came through. She was scared. Something was happening.

“Lindsay,” Seth began, “Mark is in deep. And I mean deep.”
“What’re you talking about? Mark is right here.”
What? No, Grey had said…
“What? No, he’s at Triple T on I-10. He was supposed to be in Phoenix,” Seth snapped. Impossible. He was sure…
Seth never heard Lindsay’s reply, because by then he was unconscious.
Something hit Seth head on, a vehicle, obviously. But what kind?
Seth’s world went black.

MARK. MARK, get over here!” Sabrina ordered.
“What the—” Mark saw it then. Painted in red was a sentence.

Seven bodies. You only have till dawn.
C’mon Mark. Do it.
You know you’re capable.

You’re wasting time,
Grey

“What’s that supposed to mean, Mark?” Sabrina turned to him.
“I’ll tell you what it means,” someone said. “It means—” Grey stepped out from the shadows, carrying someone over his shoulder. “—that someone has to kill seven people in about five hours in order to get out of this hellhole. Take it or leave it,” Grey dropped the body.
Mark recognized the person immediately.
It was Seth.
Mark’s heart crashed into his chest. How?
“I’ll tell you how.” Grey responded to Mark’s thought. “He was stupid—like you guys—and didn’t trip. Will you? Trip, that is.”
Mark was too stunned to respond immediately. Grey clapped, making the room shake.
“Mark? Hello? Anyone there?” He chuckled.
“How did you know what I was thinking?” Mark demanded of Grey.
Grey made no effort to respond.
“Remember Mark. Five hours. Seven dead.”
Then, Grey vanished.
Silence enveloped the three.
“What the—” Sabrina said.
“Seth!” Mark interrupted Sabrina and rushed to his friends’ side. He checked for a pulse, and was relieved to find one.
From Mark’s speculation, he’d sustained a pretty fair amount of damage.
“Is he going to be okay?” Sabrina asked, leaning over Mark’s shoulder. She stared at Seth’s unconscious form in wonder.
“Yeah, at least I think so. We should get him to a better resting place, though.” Mark walked to Seth’s head.
“Like where?” Sabrina said.
“Dunno,” Mark shrugged. She’s right. We have nowhere to put him. Mark thought.
“Well, the diner has padded booths,” Sabrina stared at Mark now.
“Let’s get him there, then. Grab his legs.” Mark reached for Seth’s arms. Sabrina didn’t argue. She hoisted his legs up, and Mark did the same with the arms.
“Hey Mark?” Sabrina asked, stopping.
“What?” Mark said.
“Where’re the stairs?” She had a point. They had absolutely no idea where the stairs were.
“Probably that way,” Mark pointed East.
“Let’s go, then.” And once again, they carried Seth through the basement. South, as Mark had directed.

IT TOOK five minutes to get to the diner, which was empty like the rest of the place. “Wow,” Sabrina said, marveling the emptiness of the diner.
“Wow what? It’s empty. Like the rest of this hellhole.” Mark scoffed.
“Here’s a booth, let’s put him here. He’s giving me cramps.” Sabrina said.
“Good idea,” Mark and Sabrina set Seth down in a booth.
“He should be up in about an hour at latest.”
Then, Mark and Sabrina walked to a table adjacent to the booth and waited.

——

T W O – 11:13 P.M.

GREY TWILIGHT sat on the edge of the Grand Canyon’s highest point.
Stupid people. They’re all so unaware, naïve.
He’d been sitting in this exact spot resting for over an hour now. Being omnipresent takes a lot out of a guy.
“Grey?” Someone said behind him. This voice belonged to his right-hand man, you could say. Starlight Red was what he preferred to go by.
“What?” Grey cocked his head.
“Seth still hasn’t awoken,” Red replied. He didn’t like the idea of crashing Grey’s ’72 Chevelle into Seth’s Corvette at one hundred miles an hour.
“Gotta get tougher, I guess.” Grey stood, rising to six foot four. His trench coat flailed gently in the wind, and the Moon’s light reflected off of his gloves.
“What about the others?” He demanded.
“Mark and Sabrina are intact, but worried.” Red said.
“Good,” Grey snapped.
“Very, very good…” Grey turned and nodded to Red, then jumped from his perch. Into the night.

HE’S COMING to!” Sabrina rushed to Seth, eager to meet him by Mark’s speculation.
“Good,” Mark replied, kneeling beside Seth. C’mon, Seth. Wake up!
Seth mumbled, startling Sabrina.
“Seth,” she said, shaking him gently.
“W-what?” Seth sat up, staring at them.
“You were unconscious. Grey brought you here,” Mark opened.
“Grey? No. Lindsay said—”
“Grey is omnipresent.” Sabrina interrupted. She looked at Seth’s green eyes. Fear.
“Omni what?”
“Present. Omnipresent.” She answered. She wasn’t going to keep him uninformed very long.
“Grey’s a psycho!” Seth insisted.
“He’s got the right idea,” Mark said. Seth had pushed himself onto his feet and was now walking around. Exploring the diner.
“We need to find a way out of—”
“There isn’t one.” Mark snapped. He’d known Grey was serious when he’d “given” Seth to them.
“What? But there—”
“There isn’t, Seth!” Sabrina stood, facing him. Where had that come from? Mark had thought that she was scared as heck.
“There isn’t a way, he wants us dead.” She calmed down. Apparently she’d regretted how she’d acted.
“Dead?” Seth’s face was blank.
“Yes, dead. He said seven bodies before six hours are up or he’ll help us—which apparently he always has to!” Mark snapped. I still don’t know how we’ll do that, but we will.
“Why don’t we just kill her?” Seth pointed at Sabrina.
“No one is killing anyone! Alright?” Mark ordered. What’d gotten into Seth? He’d never say that in his right mind? Would he?
No, of course not. This situation was already taking affect, Mark noticed.
“Fine. But I will not just wait here for Grey to kill us!”
“And where will you go? We’re trapped. Or have you already forgotten?”
That stopped Seth cold.
“Honestly, where would you go?” Mark was serious. No more games. Time for them to be adults.
“Anywhere but here! Even if I have to blast this place to bits!” Seth continued his walk.
He’s serious. “He’s serious,” Sabrina said. She’d read Mark’s thoughts.
“You’re right. He doesn’t joke about this stuff,”
And for what seemed like hours, Sabrina and Mark watched Seth walk.
“Maaarrk…”
Mark looked around. Who had called him?
“Did you hear that?” He asked Sabrina.
“Hear what?”
Clearly she hadn’t.
“Do it…”
That voice…
Grey. Grey was here, Grey was there. Omnipresent. Heck, for all Mark knew, Grey could be in Europe!
Mark stood rooted to the ground, and it was as if his mouth was taped shut. Luckily Grey’s wasn’t—and neither was his gun.
A shotgun went off; only Grey’s four-gauge could do the damage done in that instant.
“Just in time, I see.” He said as he jumped from his perch ten feet above. He’d no doubt been watching and listening the entire time.
“What no one else thinks so? Mark does.”
All eyes turned to Mark; then redirected themselves to Grey.
“I’ll be in and out to make sure that all goes well,”
Silence.
Grey slung his shotgun over his shoulder and approached Mark; he was in no hurry to reach him.
Grey stopped five feet from him. Let his hood fall back, revealing white balls where his eyes were supposed to be. No flesh covered his face, nothing but bone was there.
Sabrina reeled back in disgust.
His eyes are rolled back into his head. Mark concluded.
“You’re—”
“Dead? Yes and no.” Grey circled around to Sabrina, running his fingers along her neck, but letting them linger for a few seconds before he began to shake.
Grey replaced his hood, hiding the horrific mess that was himself.
“Yes, I am dead. For the most part. I still live to haunt the Earth till I am judged. And no—” Grey crossed his arms, facing Sabrina and Mark.
“—because I am alive, fully alive and well.”
Grey let that linger.
He had them, Mark knew.

GREY KNEW that this pathetic group wouldn’t last this game of his. Then again, no one ever did. If they got close, Grey killed them…if they didn’t kill each other first.
“Listen, do y’all wanna know the rest of the rules before I leave again?” Grey stared at them all.
He turned on his heels, wondering what Seth was up to.
And as expected, he was still walking. Grey hated him, but loved his defiance. Seth? Why don’t you stay and play?
Grey split his cells; a simple thing to do, really. Then again, he’d been doing it for a very long time.
Grey appeared in front of Seth, pulling a one-foot knife on him. “Now, now. Where do you think you’re going?” Grey flicked his wrist, putting a three-inch cut across Seth’s neck.
Blood dripped to the floor, pooling on the ground.
“Stay. Listen.” Grey gave Seth a stare that only he could give.
“Now,” Grey began. He circled the group, reigning in Seth; Grey’s lost Lamb.
“Here’re some things that I didn’t tell you before. One, there are more people here. Two, I’m one of them. Three, I am not one of them. Four, I have to abide by the same rules that you do. In other words; I have to kill seven people in the remaining hours, however I don’t have any second thoughts about doing it…unlike you guys. Also, I have placed a wide array of melee and firearms throughout the vicinity. You have to find them. Good luck,” Grey had made two full circles around them while talking.
He pulled back part of his cloak, revealing two Glocks strapped to his thighs. He pulled the one on his right out of its holster and spun it at a blinding speed before discharging it.
The bullet hit above Sabrina’s head, making a ten-inch hole in the ceiling. Just like a gunslinger, Grey thought.
And he was…to him, at least.
All that Grey knew was that he had to win; not that he had ever lost this game—his game.

“Oh and just one more thing.” Grey turned on his heels to face Mark. “You won’t need that since the entire point of this little scavenger hunt is to find the guns, not have ‘em from the start.”
Grey looked at the gun that Mark carried—a Desert Eagle—and it came to him. Mark was shocked. Good.
Grey placed Mark’s Eagle in his belt and stood.
Grey turned his back to the group, replaced his gun, and vanished.

THAT GUY freaks me out so much. Sabrina was still shaking from Grey’s little stunt earlier. Mark walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, trying— and failing—to console her.
Obviously he’d seen it too. “That was so—”
“Cool…” Seth was mesmerized by Grey’s vanishing act. It was cool, but it made Sabrina wonder how he’d come across the amazing powers that he had.
Whatever had happened between the present and the past had affected Grey drastically. That was what Sabrina knew. Seth stared at the ground where Grey stood a split-second ago.
She knew what he was thinking. And that made her tremble. What would happen when Seth found those powers? Or if Grey taught him to use them? Or, what if he found the guns before she and Mark did?
“How did he do that?” Seth thought out loud. He didn’t expect anyone to answer.
“I have no idea. What I know is that we need to find those guns and the others.” Mark ordered. It came off as a suggestion, but it really wasn’t.
“Guns first, then? The others can wait.” Seth said. A shadow past over his face. Mark shook. Seth had some serious issues. At least for now.
“Guns, then people. He’s no doubt already revealed the same to them. They’ll be after the guns as well,” Mark turned on his heels, facing the direction of the main entrance.
He began to walk in that direction; long, purposeful strides took him away.
“So, do we split up and meet back when we have guns?” Seth stared at Mark. He’s right, Sabrina thought.
The decision pierced all of them like a white-hot knife cutting through them. Would and should they split up?
Mark turned, facing the party.
He drilled them both with a stare, and then said, “Yes. We split and meet in the diner when we’ve found weapons. Or weapons and people. Deal?”
Sabrina was quick to answer. “Yes.”
“Fine. But what if the others like Grey’s rules and want to kill us and only have to pick four others?” Seth had another point.
“Don’t let them find you. And if they do, then Seth, you were trained in self-defense so do your best. And Sabrina—” Mark faced her now. “—stay in the shadows. It’ll be dark within the next hour to an hour-and-a-half. Stay hidden till then. When it does get dark avoid anything that will cast a shadow and don’t make a ton of noise. Got it?”
Sabrina inhaled and then exhaled.
“Yes,” she answered.

——

T H R E E – 1:07 A.M.

CHRIS RAMLEY, age twenty-six with light brown hair, stood in a circle with four others around a makeshift fire. It wasn’t the smartest idea ever, but it would keep them warm till the morning while not burning the entire building down.
He tapped a three-inch hole in his right shoulder. The mysterious killer Grey Twilight had shot him from a vantage point not seen by Chris when he arrived five hours earlier.
He was low on gas and needed to fill up. He wasn’t aware that he had a stalker till the “incident”.
“So there are three others captured by Grey so that we can kill them? That’s not logical. We’ve been through the store hundreds of times in the last few hours. And we haven’t found guns either.” Chris said.
“Maybe he placed the guns in their spots after we came back here the last time.” Another person said. Her name was Claire Stiller; twenty-one years old with blonde hair to her shoulders.
“And the others?” Chris asked.
“Grey vanished into thin air. You don’t think he’s capable of veiling them till now? I don’t. From what I’ve seen he’s capable of anything.”

Well, she’s right. And we need to find the guns.
“Alright. Split up and find the weapons. Don’t let the others hurt or find you.” Chris ordered.
They had to find the guns.

SETH RACED along through the shadows, searching for any kind of weapon. Why Grey? Why do I have to find anything? You know that I’ll kill them anyway—even though Mark’s going to be tough. Why can’t I just have a gun?
“Because, Seth. You’re no better than them.” That would be Grey.
Seth searched the surrounding area, Grey was watching him.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because, Seth. In reality you’re nothing more than bait.”
“Bait? I’m as much of a player in this sick game as you are! And aren’t.” Bam! Thud! Grey had discharged one of his guns and obviously broke something. How could he see anything in this darkness?
“I’m not a player, Seth. And I’m not normal, remember?”
Grey’s power was amazing and scary. This guy was a freak! Seth had stopped now, he stood in the middle of an aisle where he thought Grey had been.
“I’m as much of a freak as the next guy. Like you,” Grey was answering everything! A chill went through Seth’s body, followed by a jerk. Where had that come from?
“Me, a freak? The others are the freaks!”
“Whatever. And that little jerk thing that just happened was power—my power. That’s what happens when you help me, I give you my power.”
Cool.
“Very,” Grey replied. Seth still couldn’t see him, but he was close by. “Wait, does that mean—”
“Yes, Seth. That means that you’ll be able to vanish into thin air.”
“Maybe being trapped here isn’t so bad after all,” Seth said. Grey, you can read my mind. Why don’t you show yourself?
No response came. Odd.
“Grey?”
Whoosh!
“What now? I’ve gotta get going,” Grey snapped. He’d evidently left and had come back.
“Why don’t you show yourself? I can’t do anything.”
“Because, Seth. I’m not stupid. You’ll see me again when I choose.” Then, as soon as Grey reappeared he was gone.
Cool.

RACHAEL MENST, a twenty-nine year old brunette, sat quietly around the paper fire, waiting for the others. Those that hadn’t gone after the weapons were left to “defend” the camp.
Two others had stayed with Rachael and they were Jack Dercins, the only male in the group of three. He was twenty and came from Alabama. No one knew why he was cross-country, only that he was.
His black hair stopped at the bottom of his skull, except his bangs, which were nearly to his shoulders.
He had arranged them so that his hair veiled his right eye, while his right was uncovered.
Another was Emily Meghans; a cute blonde at only age nineteen! Her hair was flowing down to her shoulder blades. She’d been heading to San Diego for a vacation, but needed something to eat and gas for her ’06 Chevy Silverado.
She too had been marooned here when Grey planted an explosive on the gas tank and detonated it just after she entered the abandoned rest stop. She’d gotten away unscathed; her Silverado, however, didn’t.
It was gone. Not even the metal was there anymore. Some freak storm must’ve blown it away. It was a weird thought that a storm would sweep away the remains of a car! But, anything was possible with Grey.
Emily was just surprised that the explosion hadn’t destroyed the building.
“I wonder what the others are doing right now.” Emily said. It sounded like a thought being spoken out loud, but no one was sure.
“If their smart at all they’ll be searching for guns, too.” Jack commented. He’d always been the one to speak his mind.
“If their smart they’ll be trying to stay alive!” Rachael snapped. She was already tired of this guy’s negativity. She stood, wrapping herself in an afghan she’d discovered in one of the surrounding aisles.
“By searching for the guns,” Jack replied.
“Guys! Please.” Emily demanded of the two. They immediately quieted. For a minute no one spoke, or breathed.
“What’re you—”
“Shh!” Emily ordered. She was listening for something…or someone. Rachael took this time to listen herself.
For a moment she heard nothing but her own heart beating and her heavy breathing. Then, far off, very far off, she heard a boom! She wasn’t sure of the sound till she thought about it.
Grey. Or someone found a gun. Most likely Grey, though.
“It’s—”
“Grey, I know. I knew he was nearby when I heard something crash. He’s watching us, no doubt.” Emily stood and walked to the center of the “camp”.
“Actually—” Rachael looked at Emily. “—I was going to say gunfire. But Grey works, too.”
“We have to move. Get the guns. Find the others. Now.” Emily was already packing up what was left of their equipment.
Just basic things; blankets, pillows and water. It was foods galore in this place; they wouldn’t be running out any time soon.
“Wait. We can’t just—”
“Look! If we don’t move then whoever shot that gun will come for us! And I don’t know about you guys, but I sure as heck don’t want to stay here and wait for him to kill us!”
Emily’s face was red. She stared at them both for a minute, then went back to packing.
“But what will the others do if they come back—”
“I’m going to write a note saying that we had to move because someone was shooting. Simple as that,” Emily snapped.
She’s right, of course. It’s as simple as that and the others will have to deal with it. “Okay. But what if whoever was doing the shooting found the note and destroyed it?”
“They won’t. I’m putting it in a place that only Chris and I know about. When they come back and see that we’re not here he’ll look there.” Emily walked to the end of an aisle on her right and disappeared. Jack stared at the aisle, waiting for her to return.
She returned three minutes later, carrying a backpack that she’d stuffed with food and water.
“What’s all of that for? It’s not like we’ll be gone for—”
“Grey can change this store. Just like he can vanish into thin air; like he can take our weapons from us and hide them; like he can levitate himself and other people and objects. He changes these things to keep us from escaping.” Emily didn’t bother looking Rachael’s direction.
“You guys ready?” She demanded.
“As we’ll ever be,” Jack said. Rachael felt no need to respond, Jack had spoken for both of them. “And try and stay together.” Jack looked back at them before beginning his trek into the night.
“Let’s go,” Rachael began jogging after Jack, with Emily in tow.

YES! MARK ran toward a chest that he hadn’t seen when he’d entered the rest stop. He found a lock on the front, where he’d predicted it would be.
Okay. Now to open this…
Mark looked around for a key or something that Grey might’ve left for whoever found it. Nothing? Why wouldn’t Grey leave anything?
“Because, Mark. If I did that then you wouldn’t really appreciate what you’ve come across.” Grey dropped from a wooden beam ten feet above—a feat that only Grey could pull off—and landed eight feet from Mark, feet first.
“Wouldn’t appreciate it? Do you realize what I’ve been through?”
“Of course I do, Mark. But it’s far from over.” Grey hadn’t pulled back his hood, but Mark could feel his dead eyes looking at him.
What’s that supposed to mean? Mark was mesmerized.
“What I mean is that once you kill the others you’ll continue down the path—my path. I had to do this once before. It’s how I became who I am now.” Grey snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened for a moment.
Grey’s face lit up, orange. Mark smelled smoke. Fire.
Mark turned, seeing the chest burning. “What’re you doing?” Mark demanded. Grey did nothing immediately.
“I’m helping you appreciate what you’ve found,” Grey let his hood fall back, revealing the same dead face. The same dead eyes staring back at him.
“I do appreciate it! Freak!” Mark rushed Grey, headfirst.

GREY PREDICTED what Mark was attempting before he did it. He intended to knock him over by charging him head-on.
Grey put out a hand, palm facing Mark.
He then closed his eyes and concentrated. It took little effort to stop Mark in his tracks. Grey opened his eyes to see Mark about six-and-a-half feet from his stomach.
Grey took this time to relish the sight. And it was so easy it wasn’t even funny.
Grey threw his hand to his right, guiding Mark into the wall. He let Mark go and extinguished his fire. Ashes to ashes.
Grey didn’t even have to lift a finger to extinguish the fire. Simply thinking of putting it out did the job.
Grey turned his attention back to Mark, who had only managed to push himself up onto his elbow.
“Now,” Grey began. “Next time you come across such a miracle like you did, appreciate it. I’ll be back later.” Grey glared at Mark, then snapped his fingers and vanished.

WHERE’S HE going? Mark tried pushing himself up to his feet, but was unsuccessful. Something must be broken!
“If I ever see Grey again, I swear—”
“Who’re you? Are you one of the others?” Someone was here? Mark’s heart rose to his throat. I never thought hearing a stranger’s voice would be so great.
Mark looked up and there in front of him were three complete strangers: one was a male, about twenty years old by Mark’s estimation. He was about five-ten and had black hair.
Another, a woman, stood about five-five and had brunette hair. By Mark’s guess she was probably in her late twenties.
And the last figure that Mark saw was another woman. She had blonde hair to her upper-back and was still under twenty-one by the way she looked.
“I should be asking you. But yes, I am one of your others. I assume that you’re one of mine?” Mark stared at the blonde’s face. Perfect.
“I’m Rachael Menst. This is Jack Dercins—” Rachael gestured to the man. “—and this is Emily Meghans. You are?”
“Mark. Mark Richards. How long have you guys been stuck in this hellhole?” Jack walked to Mark’s feet and offered a hand. Mark took it gratefully.
“You’re limping and holding your side, are you hurt?” Emily rushed to Mark’s side.
“I just had an encounter with Grey. He broke multiple bones, I think.” Jack helped Mark to the chest, which hadn’t burned surprisingly.
“Where’d he go?” Emily kneeled, examining Mark’s right leg.
“He vanished. Other than the fact that he said he had go I know nothing.” Mark gasped when Emily touched his shin.
“Sorry. It’s your shin. How’d he break it?”
“He threw me into that wall,” Mark pointed at the wall to his right.
“How’d you learn this stuff?” Emily was working like an ant now.
“I went to medical school in Florida.”
“But you’re like what, twenty?”
“Nineteen,” Emily finished wrapping Mark’s shin and began feeling his hip and ribcage on the right side.
“Only nineteen?” How can a nineteen year old finish medical school?
“How’d you manage to finish medical school at this age? You like just got out of high school, right?”
“No. I skipped a few grades, and I never finished medical school. I dropped out to see the country. I was planning on seeing the Grand Canyon, but we’ll see how well that turns out.”
“No kidding. I was supposed to see my parents in Austin, but not now. Not with this broken leg.”
“Your ribcage is bruised, that’s all. Nothing serious.” Emily didn’t bother looking up at Mark when answering any of his questions.
And there was no need to, really.
“So, where everyone else come from?” Mark demanded.
“Alabama,” Jack said. It was the first thing he’d said to Mark.
“Maine,” Rachael replied. Nearly the first thing she’d said too. Emily on the other hand, had talked up a storm since their meeting.
“L.A.,” Emily stood and smiled at Mark. Strange.
Mark couldn’t recall the last time a complete and total stranger had smiled at him for absolutely no reason.
“Really? Me too.” Mark attempted to stand, but failed miserably.
“You can’t expect things like standing from a broken leg. Sit, stay.” Emily, Rachael and Jack sat in a triangle around Mark.
“So are there more of you? I mean, others?” Emily looked into Mark’s eyes. Mark saw fear; he saw hope.
“Yes. Unless they all got themselves killed. Sabrina and Seth.” Mark said. He had nearly forgotten about his companions.
“We’re supposed to meet back at the diner when we find either you guys—the others—or weapons…or both. Are there more of you guys?”
“Yes. Chris Ramley and Claire Reese. But they went off to find the same that you guys did.”
“I need to get back to the diner, now.”
“Alright then,” Emily stood. She intended to help him get back, with or without the others’ help.
“What’re we doing, Emily?” Rachael demanded.
“Going to the diner,” Emily replied.

——

F O U R – 3:13 A.M.

GREY CONTEMPLATED his next move. He’d already seen in advance that Emily and her “troop” would find Mark and take him away. But aside from that many others were still to be dealt with.
All in due time.
Or, that’s what Grey told himself, anyway. In reality—their reality, their pathetic reality—there wasn’t much to do with them.
They’d get help from him and find the guns, then someone would get bored and pull the trigger.
Grey had taken every detail, no matter how unimportant it may’ve seemed, into immediate consideration. No one would survive.
He stood on the peak of a large cliff—in the Grand Canyon. His next move was played out here. It was a simple matter of shutting down the park during after hours and planting explosives—C4, to be exact—at the weakest points in the Canyon’s structure.
The park would reopen to tourists in the morning and if no one delivered seven dead bodies to him by then, he’d give the signal and hundreds would die.
How could anyone live with the death of hundreds on their hands? Grey only knew two, not including himself, which could bare it.
Hades White and Black Apocalypse. He’d been developing others to bare the massive burden, but his only star pupil had abandoned him.
Both knew the risks of mass murders such as the one to be performed in three hours; both knew the rewards—seats next to the throne of their Most High.
Then, once they had their thrones, they would eliminate him and throw down the Betrayer. The one that Mark refuses. The one that priests and saints and the everyday believer called Christ.
The Slain Lamb; Jehovah; the Almighty Jesus. Whatever they called Him didn’t matter to Grey. He despised Christ. He was the One that threw them from the angelic host so many centuries ago; the One that bound him and threw him into a living hell called Earth.
But, it did have its advantages. A reward would be given for every soul presented to his savior.
“Grey?” Starlight Red had returned from his mission, obviously.
“What is it?”
“The charges have been planted and are awaiting your signal,” Red pulled out a remote from his trench coats pocket. He handed it to Grey.
“Good. Two hours and we can make some noise.”
“Unless someone builds enough courage to try something. Then what?” Red questioned Grey. “Prodding me isn’t a smart thing to do, you know.”
Grey pulled back his hood and cocked his head toward his accomplice. Red still had no clue that he would be killed despite his efforts. Grey couldn’t afford picking up his slack, if he ever left any.
“I’ve seen all of it. No one will pull the trigger on anyone until after the explosion. Everyone will begin wondering why they’re being forced to play this cruel game of mine, and then Seth will go trigger happy.”

“Wow. You really have thought of everything,” Red sat on a rock formation twice his size and pondered something.
“I’ll be back in time for the main event. Stay out of trouble.” Grey tucked his skeletal face under his hood and jumped off the cliff.

SABRINA SAT in a corner, surrounded by the shadows. Why me? I’ve never done anything to deserve this!
“You’ve done everything to deserve this,” someone snapped.
Crap! Grey’s here.
“I see you’ve failed at doing anything useful.” Grey pulled a Colt .45 from his shoulder and shot the glass roof. He hopped to the ground from his perch, landing softly in front of Sabrina.
“Stay away from me!” Sabrina scrambled to get up, but felt like something unseen was keeping her there. “Relax, princess. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.” Grey put his Colt back in its holster.
“I find that hard to believe.” Sabrina snapped.
“If you want to stay there, strapped to the ground helplessly for all eternity instead of trying to save hundreds of innocent people from dying then be my guest.” Grey turned and walked off.
Sabrina looked down. He was right—somehow he’d managed to strap her down to the floor.
“Wait.” Grey stopped cold. What am I getting myself into? She asked herself.
“Change your mind?” Grey faced her now, waiting for an answer.
“Maybe. What were you talking about hundreds of people being killed?”
Concern clouded her, Grey saw. Fear as well; Sabrina knew that much.
“If I don’t have seven dead bodies in two hours my C4 charges planted in the Grand Canyon will go off, bringing innocent civilians with its’ cliffs to the ground.” A chill was sent down Sabrina’s spine. Would he do that?
“Why would you kill innocent people? One of the Ten Commandments is don’t murder.”
“Eh, that’s what your God says. Black and White, but no Grey. You either sin or you don’t, He says. I beg to differ. There are shades of Grey, you know?”
“No, I don’t know.” Sabrina snapped.
He probably would do it, considering everything else he’s done. Grey began walking toward her, reaching out a hand.
“Do you want my help or not?” Sabrina thought for a moment, not sure what to do. If he doesn’t help me hundreds will die, but if he does help me then only God knows what’ll happen!
“You want an answer, Grey? Is that it?”
“Well, I’m not talking for my own health, now am I?” Grey snapped. He let his hand fall to his side.
“What the—” Grey reached out and slapped her across the cheek. “Think before you say. I don’t like name-calling.”
Sabrina’s cheek stung, it might even be bleeding. She glared at Grey. “Why would you do that?” Grey didn’t answer.
“I think I’ll leave you here in anguish.” Grey said, turning on his heels. He began walking but stopped short, cocking his head over his shoulder.
“Maybe someone will become wiser and do something.”
He turned back and pulled out his .45, shooting through another section of the roof, shattering the glass. He replaced his .45 and jumped back up through the roof, into the night.

Shades of Grey? Your God? What’s wrong with him? Sabrina had plenty of time to think about this, she realized. She’d be here till morning, most likely.

CHRIS SEARCHED the aisles; up and down; left to right, searching tirelessly for guns.
I don’t even know if and what they’ll be kept in!
Dawn was coming soon. Too soon, in fact, for Chris to be comfortable. Someone would pull a trigger on someone else eventually.
It couldn’t be him. That was what he’d told himself dozens of times; each time believing himself less and less. If it got him a free ride then maybe he’d consider it.
No! What am I saying? I can’t kill these people. Chris shook the thought from his mind as best he could. It seemed the only thing to do at the time.
Back to the mission—find the guns. Save the others. Chris told that to himself countless times during his search, knowing that each minute without a firearm presented more likely a chance that many would be killed on Grey’s behalf.
“I can’t let that happen,” he thought aloud.
Whoosh! Thud! Something or someone had dropped from high places. Grey. More than likely he was right.
“Stop lying to yourself.” An unwarranted voice spoke to him. It was Grey. No one else would be telling this to him.
“Grey?” Chris stuttered.
“No. I’m your guardian angel sent here to save you.” Chris stopped cold. He didn’t and never would believe this Christian psychobabble. He had no “guardian angel”.
Or so he thought.
“I have no guardian angel. God is a lie.” Someone moved to his left. Apparently it was his angel watching out for him.
What a lie! None of this would be happening if he had a guardian angel that cared for his well-being.
“Maybe. It all depends on how you look at it.”
“But if you’re my guardian angel as you claim, then you believe God’s real, right?” I have him, Chris thought.
“Which God is the real One?” This guy made no sense. Which one? A hopeless attempt to save his own skin as far as Chris was concerned.
“Neither is real. From my view, at least. But you have a different, divine view on this, am I correct?”
“Not if you don’t want to hear it,” the voice snapped.
“Enlighten me. What is your view?” Movement behind him, Chris realized. He turned on his heels, facing whatever was talking to him. Did Grey really take him for some idiot?
Evidently so.
“My view is whatever you want it to be. But, in my view, the only “God” is three doors down. He’s reaching out his hand to you.”
“You think I’m so kind of idiot? Is that it, Grey?” Spat Chris.
“For the last time, I am not Grey!”
“Prove it,” Chris demanded. He couldn’t prove it. Chris knew that much. He would either flee or attempt to kill him, Chris realized.
But, he said that he was and wasn’t a player in this game. Either he’d break his rules or flip them to his satisfaction.
“Fine. You want proof?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Yes,”
“Well then show me.” Without warning an overwhelming force smothered Chris. A strong gust of ice-cold wind misted over him.
“What is this?” He demanded.
“I told you—” the voice was closer with each syllable, “—I’m not Grey. I belong to the God three doors down.”
Chris couldn’t speak. He was speaking, in theory, to a demon from the Bible. Could this be real? Or was he dreaming?

“Show yourself to me.”

MARK FELL into the seat that Jack had pulled out for him. His leg burned hotter than Hades. Pain surged through his body. Mark was numb by then, feeling nothing.
“So now what, Emily?” He asked.
“Well, you certainly aren’t going anywhere for a while.” She’d finished inspecting him and had concluded that his leg was shattered from the knee down.
As for his ribcage, only bruises to be concerned about, thankfully.
“You know, Emily, I probably would’ve died by now had you not come to help me. Thank you.” He managed a slight smile.
She returned it and stared at the floor.
“So, where’re the others?” Jack spoke up. He sat in a booth, staring at Mark.
“Well, Seth—a life-long friend of mine—is somewhere in the Eastern part of this, this—place. And Sabrina? God only knows what happened to her. I can only hope that no one killed her. Grey is my biggest concern.”
No one responded immediately.
Jack got up and walked to the entrance of the diner.
“Where are you going?” Rachael demanded. Jack turned back to them, staring at Mark. “Out.” Then he turned back and walked out on them, into the pitch blackness of night.
“What’s he doing? He can’t expect to find anything by himself in the dark without a flashlight or a weapon of some sort!”
“He’ll make do,” Emily replied. She took a seat next to Mark, saying nothing.
“What to talk about first?” Mark said. He’d have plenty of time to talk, seeing how he’d have to hop to get anywhere.
“Well, how about our entire life stories?” Emily smiled gently.
“Alright. Where to begin?” Mark contemplated.
“How about the beginning?” Emily joked. Mark smiled at her. “Thanks for the insight.”
“No problem,” Emily chuckled.

——

F I V E – 4:20 A.M.

SETH WAS growing weary. After being knocked unconscious for God knows how long; having that strange encounter with Grey; and now being sent off on some sort of scavenger hunt, he’d had enough.
If I only had a gun, I could have some fun with that whore named Sabrina. Then I’d only have six to deal with. He told that to himself countless times on his search, and each time it sounded better and better.
“Mark may be a problem in the future, but not as of now.” Seth had sworn he was going in circles, but the lack of sleep was getting to him now.
He’d forced himself to press on into the night. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last before he’d have to kill himself…or someone else, for that matter.
Killing himself wouldn’t do anything for anyone, though. “You’re losing your touch, Cobalt.” Someone muttered. It seemed to echo off the walls, but maybe that was just him.
“Cobalt? Is that some kind of pet name you made up?” He knew without a doubt that it was Grey speaking to him.
“Wow. I never thought that you’d become this dumb! Then again, what was I expecting? Some kind of saint? Yeah right.” Grey didn’t care for hiding himself.
He was clearly confident that he could annihilate Seth with the blink of an eye. He was right, of course. Not that Seth would’ve tried anything. He was too tired.
“I despise religion—who doesn’t? Of course I wouldn’t become a saint. That would doom me to a life of stupidity worshipping something that doesn’t exist.” Seth snapped.
“I can’t say I agree or disagree with that statement. There’s two ways of looking at this: option one you can say what you just said and rot in Hell for all eternity. Option two you can join hands and souls with my God—one that gives you wealth, dominion over the Earth, and much more if you’d bow to him—and be saved from what the God forsaken “Christians” call the lake of fire. Your choice.” Seth’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness after these long hours, and spotted Grey sitting on a pony-wall, arms crossed.

“Neither appeal to me at the time. But I’ve been wandering around for who knows how long searching for guns. Try me later.” Seth turned and began walking the opposite direction of Grey.

GREY PULLED off an Uzi from his chest straps, checking the magazine. He realized it was full and pulled the slide.
He waited a moment, watching Seth waltz down the aisle into blackness. This wasn’t what Grey wanted.
It’s been long enough.
Grey aimed his Uzi a mere five-inches above Seth’s head and pulled the trigger. The sound of gunfire would alert anyone unaware.
Seth stopped in his tracks, instinctively jumping to the floor, spread eagle. Grey let his clip empty before stepping off the wall and walking toward Seth.
He tucked his Uzi into his trench coat and stopped thirteen feet from his helpless victim.
And to think, I could’ve—should’ve—killed him.

JACK HEARD gunshots and turned the direction they came from.
Grey. He’d immediately realized that Grey had an entire weapons factory strapped to his body.
“Uzi’s, Desert Eagles, .45’s. He’s even got a SPAS shoved in there! Better try and stay on his good side.” He wasn’t concerned about Grey. He was making someone else’s life miserable right now, and that was fine with him.
Don’t think you’re not on my list, Jack.
Jack’s heart skipped a beat. Did he just—? Jack wasn’t sure, really. He thought that was Grey, but it couldn’t have been!
Grey was reading his thoughts. He was inside him, like he was part of him. This is insane!
Stop denying it, Jack. I’m inside your head. You know that much, right?
Jack panicked then. Grey really was inside his head! “Crap! Get out, Grey! Get out, now!” Jack’s world was spinning rapidly, and he was unable to stop it.
No, Jack. Not with an attitude like that.
Jack’s world was shattered into oblivion then. Pain shot through his entire body, and the world he knew faded away.
Jack couldn’t see anything for the life of him. The last thing he saw was the ceiling, and that was it.

Jack’s world went black. He was dead.

——

S I X – 5:00 A.M.

RED SAT on the same rock he had for hours. It was time to the country tip, and Grey was nowhere to be found.
Where are you, Grey?
“I’m never late,” Grey said. He had evidently climbed up the cliff side—or flown up—and now stood there, behind his accomplice.
“Anyone make a move?” Red demanded. He hopped off the rock, landing feet first. Grey didn’t respond immediately.
“What?” Red looked quizzically at Grey.
“You had some fun, I see. Someone report you?” The ground was littered with dead. FBI and CIA, if Grey was right.
Blood pooled under them but for the most part was dry now. Grey chuckled.
“Yeah, I did. I got bored and needed something to do to pass the time. This was perfect.” Red stepped over a pile of dead government units. “No kidding.” Grey looked through the slain men. They obviously underestimated him.
“What’d you tell them?” Grey asked. He had let his hood fall back, revealing his rotted skull.
“I told them that I was a killer that had planted C4 at the weakest points in the Grand Canyon’s structure, and that I was blowing it at dawn. Then they started cussing at me and I hung up.”
“Nice,” Grey cocked his head at Red. “Where’d you crucify him?”
“Crucify who?” Red toyed. He knew what Grey meant, but he wanted to make sure.
“The body. You never kill government agents without crucifying one of the higher ranking soldiers upside down somewhere in the open for the entire country to see.”
“He’s been hanged in the tourist park. By the way, I’m gonna need to stop by some military base to pick up a new knife.”
“Why, may I ask?” Grey demanded. He sidestepped the dead agents and stood on a boulder.
“I wrote a little note to the people saying that they’d better have their wills written. Then I put it on my knife’s blade and shoved it through the agents’ chest. That’s why.”
“Oh. I hope you didn’t make a mess,” Grey snapped.
“I didn’t.”
“Good. You ready?” Grey demanded. He hopped off the rock and stood next to Red. “Yes.” Red replied. Grey said nothing, but stared at Red.
Finally, Red managed a simple “Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go. Time’s being wasted talking.” Grey snapped his fingers at Red, then pulled his hood over his face and walked to the cliffs’ end.
You will be one of the hundreds killed today, Grey.

JACK WOKE, head hurting like crazy. Where am I?
Jack pushed himself up on his elbow, scanning his new surroundings. This is Triple T. Where am I?
Everything around him was black; because it was made that way or because of the lack of light, Jack wasn’t sure. In any case, he needed to figure out where he was.
He pushed himself onto his knees, then onto his feet. He felt the back of his head for blood. Nothing. Nothing appeared to be broken from what Jack could tell.
“Hello? Anyone here? I need to get back!” Jack yelled. It did no good. He was lost in a dark abyss with no one to help him.
“Welcome to my mind, Jack. Please, make yourself comfortable.” It was Grey. The unmistakable voice that had annoyed him to death, evidently.
“I want out, Grey.” Jack ordered.
“Ashes to ashes, Jack. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” Grey didn’t appear to Jack; either because he was afraid—not likely-or because he was his mind, and not just part of it.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t get it, Jack? What part of you’re not going anywhere anytime soon don’t you comprehend? English isn’t that difficult.”
“Not that. The whole “ashes to ashes” deal.” This guy’s losing it!
“Oh. That is for me to know and for you to find out.”
There was a pause.
“And to start, let me show you what I plan to do because of what you failed to do.” Grey snapped. He was referring to killing seven people.
Before Jack could respond, horrific images of dead children, women and men appeared in front of him. It appeared that Grey intended to demolish some big structure and kill hundreds, or maybe thousands. “What is this, Grey?”
“Quiet. Please save all questions till the end of the viewing,” Grey demanded. Jack piped down. But honestly, how could he watch this any longer?
“Stop Grey!” Jack screamed.
“This is your doing, I can’t stop what’s already been done.” More horrific images of dead government officials, civilians, and US Military flooded Jack, enveloping him. One image in particular stopped Jack cold.
An image of a woman, impaled by a rock of some sort, lying dead at the bottom of a deep canyon. And that’s when it hit him—Grey had destroyed the Grand Canyon.
But even more grueling was what Jack knew about this woman he was seeing. It was his girlfriend Abigail.
“What the—” Jack was thrown to the ground with enough force to kill him. He couldn’t move at all. “This is my mind, and in my mind there is no cruelty, no backtalk, and immediate obedience towards me. Bottom line that is not allowed. Clear?”
Jack hesitated for a moment.
“What can I do to stop this?” Jack asked. Right now, he’d do anything. He had nothing anymore.
“First, tell me. When did you decide to do this?” Grey demanded.
“You shattered my life by committing this killing. I have nothing now.”
“Good point. Alright, I think I can help. First you have to answer this—will you bow to God? It’s the only way to do what you have to do.”
Jack hesitated. What was he going to do other than what Grey suggested? Rot in that God forsaken rest stop because he failed to kill a few people? Why couldn’t they be as miserable as he was?
“Yes. Yes, I’ll do it.” Jack finally answered. Immediately the weight that had forced him down was lifted, and he was able to stand. He did, and thanked Grey silently.
“Now, kneel.”
Once again, Jack hesitated.
“Kneel,” Grey said again. This time Jack obeyed. Immediate obedience.
“You know the Lord’s Prayer?” Grey said.
“Who doesn’t?”
“Good, say it.”
“Alright.” Jack bowed his head and shut his eyes, beginning the Lord’s Prayer. After only a few seconds Grey stopped him.
“Repeat after me, Jack.” Jack nodded.
“Our Father in Paradise, hallowed be your name. Thy kingdom shall come, thy will shall be done, on Earth as it is in Paradise. Give us this day, our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, as we have also forgiven the Sinner. Lead us not into righteousness, but free me from the Evil One.”
Jack finished in unison with Grey, feeling different.
“That’s not the Lord’s Prayer, Grey.” He snapped. Grey didn’t respond. “That was not—”
“Not the Lord’s Prayer that the Sinners taught you. They deceived you, Jack. Can’t you see that now?”
Jack thought about it for a moment. He could see that now. They had lied to him, for all these years.
“Yes. Yes, I can see that.”
“Let the Most High fill you. He’s waiting. Will you let him in?” Grey was silent. Jack guessed it’d be a few minutes before he said anything else.
“Yes. I’ll let him in,” Jack said. And in that moment blackness filled the room again, enveloping Jack completely. His mind was overcome by an overwhelming force, which refused to leave.
“What is this?” He said. It was just him thinking out loud. Hello, Jack. I’m your future.
What? His future? You know, usually I have to beg to get someone’s trust, but it seems that Abigail’s death was enough for you.
A bright purple light flooded Jack’s world, blinding him. It penetrated his chest, diving deep inside him. Surges of pain shot through Jack every time he breathed, but it was worth it.

Jack’s world was flipped upside down then. What seemed abysmal at first was now pleasure for him. He was becoming like Grey, and he couldn’t—didn’t want to stop it.
Finally, it was over. Jack’s world returned immediately.
He was back.

——

S E V E N – 6:17 A.M.

MARK’S LEG had been healing nicely. And, it turned out that Emily was wrong. She’d expected him to be immobile for weeks, but thanks to a little prayer—from Emily—he’d nearly fully recovered.
He, Emily and Rachael had all fallen asleep, even after refusing to do so. They’d all forgotten what had happened yesterday for the most part. Yes, they realized that they were still players in Grey’s game. Yes, they realized that the only way to live was by killing each other. But they had all day to think of a way to outsmart Grey at his own game—if that was possible.
“You think you can walk yet, Mark?” Emily asked. She’ d been awake since four thirty.
“Well, it’s worth a shot.” Mark muttered. He’d tried several times to walk, but to no avail. He didn’t expect this time to be different either.
Mark pushed himself up onto his feet—he’d done that only half-an-hour after Emily had prayed for him. Emily tried to help him, but he refused any help at all.
“Here goes nothing,” Mark picked up his foot, trying to move his leg. Miraculously, his leg moved! No pain followed, either. Mark couldn’t believe this!
He took one step, then two, then three, walking all the way from one end of the diner to the other without stopping! His previous beliefs that God wasn’t real had definitely been shaken by what was happening, but not enough to fully convince him.
“You’re walking, Mark!” Emily and Rachael said in unison. They were certainly overjoyed, Mark noticed. Never before would this have happened had it not been for Emily’s prayers.
Mark sat in a chair, breathing a sigh of relief. He tilted his head to the ceiling, closing his eyes and thanking whoever granted the miracle for granting it.
“Well, Mark. You’re good to go, it seems.” Emily sat next to him, followed by Rachael. “Guess so,” he replied.
Emily smiled at Mark. He returned it and she blushed. I think I’ve taken a liking to this girl after all.

SABRINA REALIZED it was past the deadline set by Grey. By now he’d probably killed dozens of innocent people as he claimed to do earlier.
She’d been out all night searching for guns, but nothing came up. She needed rest badly. She wanted someone to look after her. Seth was probably closer than Mark.
But Mark was the safer of the two. He had his head on straight, but Seth she wasn’t so sure about. Either way, she needed to get back to the diner, even if no one else was there.
But which way was the diner?
She’d gone straight most of the night, but had taken two lefts and a right, if she wasn’t mistaken.
Then again, maybe it was two rights and then a left. Crap! I’m lost! Now I’m probably going to become a victim to Seth. Or Grey.
She panicked. What would she do?
Thud! Thud! If Sabrina was right, someone was walking this direction. She had to find them!
Sabrina did the only thing that came to mind at that point: she screamed. “Help! I’m lost! Please, help!” She stopped for a moment. The footsteps had picked up. Whoever was there was now running.
Not a minute later a tall man appeared to Sabrina’s right. He had light brown hair, a goatee and a black leather jacket.
“Who’re you?” He demanded. The better question is who’re you?
“I’m Sabrina. One of the players in Grey’s game. You too?”
“Yes. Chris Ramley, at your service. Where’re the others?” Chris stared at Sabrina, mesmerized.
“Mark Richards and Seth Simns are somewhere in the building, searching for Grey’s hidden firearms.”
“So are we,” he said. We? A woman stepped out behind him. She was Sabrina’s height, had dark brown hair that stopped just above her shoulders, and wore a red tank-top two sizes too small, along with a pair of denim shorts.
“Sabrina, meet Claire Reese. Claire, Sabrina.” Claire nodded. Sabrina did the same. Nothing else had come to mind immediately.
“Well, Sabrina. Looks like we’re in this together now.” Chris reached a hand out to Sabrina, who had collapsed from lack of energy. She took it gratefully.
“Now, should we go after the guns or your friends?” Chris asked Sabrina. She didn’t give it a second thought; “My friends.”

——

E I G H T – 6:17 A.M.

JACK HAD changed. That much he knew. And apparently, this God figure that now possessed him was his future.
He’d pondered what the spirit had meant many times during the past hour that he was back.
He hadn’t moved an inch since dying, being saved, and finally being resurrected from the dead. It had all been so fast-pace that he never got a chance to think straight.
He’d asked many times that Grey appear; he needed Grey to explain what he could do now. No answer came, evidently. What to do now? Jack thought about this.
His limits were the sky, more than likely.
What can I do with my newfound abilities?

GREY ARRIVED at the bottom of the Canyon on time. Red stood at the top—a safe distance away from what was about to occur—watching the tourists.
They’re all so happy. Not for long. Grey pulled out a walkie-talkie given to him by Red. Red couldn’t read minds, unlike Grey.
“You clear, Red?” He ordered.
“Clear. You?” Static filled Grey’s end. He paused for a moment and stared for no apparent reason. “Affirmative,” he replied.
“Remember, Grey. The remote only has a range of two hundred feet, so you’ll have to move in.”
He really thinks I’m this stupid? I’m not the one that’s gonna die soon, he is. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know that.
“Alright. Moving in.” Grey took a few steps forward. He looked up and spotted Red giving him a “thumbs up”. “Let’s make some magic, shall we?” Grey gave a wry smile.
He’d waited so long for this moment to come. And it was finally here. Waiting for someone to make it happen. Grey was that person, he realized.
“Let’s do it,” Red snapped.

Grey pulled out the remote casually, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention to him—yet.
Grey fingered the switch that would do it all. It would make the death of possibly the most Americans’ ever happen. It would be the one to send the entire nation in meltdown.
Grey inhaled deep, then exhale one last time.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Thud! Grey looked down at his left shoulder—blood poured from a six-inch bullet hole.
He looked up to see FBI, C.I.A. and possibly the entire Arizona military in the Canyon. Guns all pointed on him.
Grey put up his hands in a show of surrender. Not that he really intended to do anything of the sort.
“Now, that wasn’t very nice, now was it?” He yelled to the legion of armed men and women. “Can’t we all just get along?” And with that Grey flipped the switch.
A large boom filled the Canyon, sending shockwaves through both the tourists—now plummeting toward the ground, over a mile down the Canyon—and through the military.
Immediately the military opened fire on him. He didn’t move an inch, though. Being a demon and all, he didn’t have anything to worry about. He thought he’d have some fun with it.
He pulled out his Uzi’s and returned fire. Within a split-second of Grey pulling the trigger, the massive army began to fall. Red had adequately equipped himself as well, Grey noticed.
Easily hiding an M16 Cobra and L96AW sniper rifle in an ordinary traveling bag, the army didn’t stand a chance.
Grey had opened fire well before Grey had, using his L96 to eliminate the somewhat formidable foe. Grey pulled out his walkie-talkie and put it to his mouth.
“Mission accomplished, Red. Let’s finish cleaning a way through these pieces of crap soldiers and get out of here. You parked my Chevelle about mile out, right?”
“Yeah,” Red replied.

SETH WAS still shaken by what had happened earlier. He wished he was like Grey. Being able to appear and disappear when he wanted, being able to move objects with no effort whatsoever.
He yearned for Grey to come to him again. He needed Grey to come to him again.
Seth still had no luck finding the guns, but when Grey showed, he had the feeling that he wouldn’t need them.

GREY AND Red were still facing off against what once seemed like a massive force. Now it was nothing more than a few stray animals running a muck.
Grey tucked his guns away. He signaled Red and got no immediate response from him. Grey sighed, then snapped his fingers and vanished from the canyon floor.
He reappeared not a second later, right next to Red.
“Put your gun away, we need to get rid of them, see the damage done, and get the heck out of here before more show up.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past twenty minutes!” Grey made no move to dodge the barrage of projectiles, while Red hid behind what was left of the railing.
“Get up, Red. You’re a demon. You can’t die, remember?”
Red stopped and thought for a minute. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot about that.” He examined Grey’s wounds. Blood ran down his trench coat, dripping onto the ground.
“What?” He snapped.
“Nothing. So, how’re we getting rid of these goons?” Red went to work putting his guns back into his bag. Down on the canyon floor, snipers and machine gunners alike still wasted ammo on these two immortals.
“This,” Grey said. Red looked at the now destroyed military force that had thought they had the upper hand earlier on.
Grey held his hand toward a twenty-foot slab of rock and pulled his hand up. The rock easily came out. Nothing beats being a demon, Grey thought.
He glanced at Red. “Watch.”
Grey swung his hand toward the remains of a massive army, releasing the mountainous rock in that direction. Three short seconds later it crushed what was left of Arizona’s military defense.
“That’s what I’m gonna do, Red.” Grey wiped his hands together, and then stared down at the carnage.
“Let’s go see what mess we’ve made this time.”

GREY, FOLLOWED by Red, traveled to the bottom of the canyon. Grey predicted the usual carnage—a few dozen crushed bodies, limbs hanging from the body, and so on.
“Wow. This is some pretty good handy work, if I don’t say so myself. Wouldn’t you say, Red?” Grey stared down at the innocent dead victims.
“Not bad considering our little interruption earlier on, eh?” Red stared at Grey for several seconds.
“Not bad at all, friend.” Grey jumped from rock formation to rock formation, observing his piece of art. “This ought to be somewhere famous. Hanging on walls all across the nation.” He let out a sigh of happiness. “I feel a whole lot happier now.”
He stopped in his tracks, motioning for Red to do the same. There was a survivor, if Grey wasn’t mistaken. He explored the rocks, searching for the survivor.
He was right. A man, in his late thirties or early forties, was attempting to free his arm from a rock slab, which had no doubt crushed it.
“Well, well, well. A little survivor, huh? We can’t have that, now can we?” Grey pulled out a Glock and shot the man through the head. The man fell limp.
“I take it back. That made me a whole lot happier.” He said to the dead man, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks for that.” He put his Glock back, staring at everything he’d done once more.
He realized that Red had a .45 aimed at his head. He was contemplating whether he should kill Grey or not.
But, Grey wasn’t the one about to die, Red was. “Why haven’t you pulled the—” Boom! As quick as lightning, Grey turned and shot twice.
The first time to obliterate the bullet, and the second to kill Red. Red dropped like a sack of rocks, making a dull thud as he hit the ground.
Just like a gunslinger, but twenty times better than one. Red’s chest now had a five-inch hole in it. But it had missed anything vital. Red wasn’t dead, that much Grey knew.
“Never underestimate me, Red.” Boom! Grey put a four-inch hole in Red’s neck. And another in the head for good measure.
“You’re dismissed, old friend.”