The One

It was a regular day. Regular in every way. The sun was out, it was in the mid seventies. He walked down Market Street, just like he did every day. Walking, admiring the ladies, looking at the sun. Bryan Porter was regular. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t not like it either. Of course there were times he wanted more, something more exciting. Something that would energize him and make him feel alive. Other times, he was perfectly content. He was, for the most part, happy. Bryan worked at as a Public Defender in St. Louis, Missouri. He had been there for about 7 years. He assisted the down trodden with their myriad of criminal legal problems. Bryan had stories that would make your hair stand on end. Bryan was single and always had been. He had never even been close to getting married. He had always dated, having a good time, but he was in no rush to “settle down.” He had one kid, and he wanted more, but for now, he was all right. As he walked down the street, he was thinking about what he was going to eat for dinner. He knew he wasn’t turning on the TV when he got home to his loft apartment on Washington Avenue. The news had become so horrible, local, national, and world. Over the past six months it was if the world was going to end. Locally, the gang murders had increased 45% over the last year. Many of the clients he represented were no longer coming through for a second or third go ‘round. Instead, they were getting killed in bunches. He, like everybody else, knew the violence was increasing, but he could not tell you why. Recently, he had seen stories of a 22 year old woman, shot in the head while walking in Soulard holding her 5 month old daughter. He saw another involving a 78 year old man raped by a gang of 5 teenagers and beheaded. Another story involved a 25 year old mother, killing her daughter’s teacher with a machete. The local stories went on and on. They were nothing, however, like the stories coming from other parts of the World. The newspaper read like a veritable horror story on human condition and depravity. In Sierre Leon, children were getting killed by the dozens by warlords with axes. In Brazil, the murder rate was so high; the morgue was having trouble keeping up with the bodies. In England, where there were few guns, there had been a bizarre increase in people being hacked to death. In China, whole families were massacred by roaming groups of people. Every continent was getting

hammered with wave after wave of horrendous violence. The type of violence that simply made you shake your head. It wasn’t just the violence. The moral fabric of the human race was being ripped apart before the eyes of every human being. The violence, murder, rape, robberies, and assaults were one thing. But the bribes, corrupt police, politicians, government, and corporations simply had given up. Everybody was working for themselves and themselves only. Politicians were openly selling their votes. Corporations were lying about earnings, gambling with their employee’s pensions, and stealing from their own employees simply so their officers could make more money. Police officers were lying about what they saw, sexually assaulting women they pulled over, stealing money, and taking bribes. Every level of government, from local to state to federal were handing out contracts to those companies that paid them the most, or that gave their cronies jobs. The world was falling apart and everybody knew it. There was no good in the world. Children were left at home by themselves and nobody batted an eye. Teenagers were out all night, doing what they wanted, and nobody cared. Everybody abused drugs and/or alcohol and it was okay. The human race was rapidly destroying itself.

CHAPTER 2 Bryan walked into his loft apartment at 6:30. He usually made it home between 6 and 6:30. When he got home, he called his daughter. Though he had never been married, he did have one daughter. She was five years old and her name was Tiffany. Tiffany lived in Dardene Prairies with her mother and her husband. He liked the husband okay. Tiffany’s mother, Julie, was a good mom and they got along well, all things considered. It was difficult, but it also was good. Once he got settled, he called Tiffany. He tried to call her every night. Julie was always okay with his telephone calls. They agreed it was a good thing. As he settled in the recliner, TV on, he dialed the phone number. Julie answered, and after some small talk, Julie put Tiffany on the telephone. Bryan said “Hello Boo, how was your day” Tiffany, responded “good”, “did you eat lunch?”, “yes”, “did you play outside?”, “yes”, “who loves you?”, “daddy loves you…”. Every conversation was the same, but every one made him feel so good. After talking to Tiffany, Bryan made himself some dinner. He sat back in his recliner, turned the TV to ESPN, and watched some basketball.

CHAPTER 3 Bryan had been a fairly good athlete in school. He stood just over 6 feet tall, and weighed a solid 250 pounds. Though not fat, he certainly didn’t look like he wanted. He worked out, was stronger than average, but otherwise he was a regular guy. He kept his head shaved with no facial hair. He had piercing brown eyes and a smile that people claimed lit up a room. One thing he had that everybody noticed, was a loud, booming voice. This was his weapon of choice when faced with an obstacle. Bryan could talk. He loved to talk. It is what made him, him. During a trial, when he finally got the chance to stand up, after listening to a prosecutor give their “version” of events, he could feel the blood coursing through his veins. He could feel the adrenaline. He could feel the energy. He had learned how to channel that energy and direct it at the jury. He could connect with them, and make them want to believe him over anybody else in the court room. Around 10:30, Bryan laid down to get some sleep. He had a long day tomorrow and he needed his rest. In one week, he was scheduled to begin another trial, his 10th of the year, and he needed to get up early and finalize the preparations. When he laid down that night, everything was regular.

CHAPTER 4 On Tuesday, the alarm went off at 5:30, like it did every morning. Bryan did not get up every morning. On some mornings, the snooze button got quite a work out. Not today. Bryan got up, threw on some shorts, t-shirt, and shoes. He walked out of his building thinking about his trial. This one was an assault. His client was near insane, but the Court found him competent. This was not abnormal, even though his client had no real idea what was going on. In March, the client, Jermaine, told the judge that he had already plead guilty to a misdemeanor and that he was serving 1 year in the county jail. The problem, unfortunately, was that Jermaine shot somebody in the back of the head 3 times. That type of crime, with a police officer witness, generally results in more jail time than 1 year. Jermaine had trouble with time and space. He knew that he plead guilty at some time and received 1 year. Unfortunately, that happened almost 7 years before, in a very minor case in a nearby municipality. This case, the one with a trial about to begin, was very serious. Jermaine got into a fight with somebody in the neighborhood. The victim swung a knife at Jermaine. Unfortunately, for the victim, the adage “don’t bring a knife to a gun fight” is very true. During the fight, Jermaine got the best of the victim. It was during the fight that the factual dispute become important. The Police Officer was going to testify that Jackson turned the victim over on to his belly, pulled out his gun, and shot him 3 times at close range in the back of the head. Jackson, and a couple of unreliable witnesses, would testify that the gun went off twice during the struggle, classic self-defense. The problem was, however, was that Jackson could not testify. He could not maintain his calm during cross examination and he would end up hurting his case more than helping it. The other witnesses would help, but all of them had at least one issue that made them imperfect. There was ammunition against the police officer, however. The autopsy report showed the bullet entered through the nose and cheek. This was more consistent with the version told by Jackson and the other, but still not perfect. There was no doubt that the officer was on the scene. There was a doubt, if it happened like he said.

In any event, after the gun went off and Jermaine saw the officer, he ran through the houses and apartment buildings trying to escape. As he was running, Jermaine threw his gun to the side. As he turned a corner, the police were waiting for him. They threw him down, punched him in the ribs and stomach, and roughly handcuffed him. This was a difficult case to win. Jermaine wanted his trial and that was his absolute right so Bryan was trying to think of his strategy when the evidence so strongly favored the state. As he walked to the gym, he thought of the depositions, records, the victim’s health, witnesses, and his own client. He didn’t even know if his client would maintain any civility or sanity during the trial. Jermaine had a tendency to get loud, argue with the Court (like he did during other appearances), and he was prone to outbursts. These incidents, while not a problem when the jury wasn’t present, would create a huge problem in front of the jury. It occurred to Bryan that he should emphasize his client’s condition. As he thought this through, he walked into his gym. At 6:30, the same people were there. A couple of men worked out in the “free weight” area. 3-4 women ran on the treadmills and a few older men worked our on the circuit trainers. Bryan always ran first to warm up. After running, he would work out on the free weights and circuit trainer equipment. During his workout, he listened to his music, forgetting about the chaos in the world. After 60 minutes, Bryan walked home. He was still thinking about how to use Jermaine’s mental state to his advantage. It would take some work, but he was confident he could come up with something. Make no mistake about it, Bryan lost more than he won, but that was the nature of trying cases. As was told to him by an older attorney, “any lawyer who says he hasn’t lost, is really saying that he hasn’t tried any cases.” Every lawyer wins a case that he should not have won and every lawyer has lost a case that the lawyer believes they should have won. The truth of the matter was that there was no way to predict what would happen or could happen during a jury trial. And so it went, Tuesday came and went with Bryan thinking about his case and how best to represent his client.

By Friday, Bryan was ready for a couple of drinks. He decided to go out and get a few drinks with some friends. He went to “Tucker’s Place” in a Soulard. Soulard was an area of town in South St. Louis that had old houses, good restaurants and nice bars. Tucker’s had great burgers. That is what he ordered, along with a few beers. After eating, they went to a few more bars. At about 1:00 AM, Bryan and his friends decided to call it a night. Bryan hailed a cab and took it towards his apartment. The apartment was located at 15th and Washington. As the cab turned left off of Market St. on to Washington, Bryan, looking out the window, told the taxi to let him out. The cab pulled over, Bryan threw twenty dollars at him, and hopped out. He wanted to walk the rest of the way. He began walking down Washington towards 15th Street. It was about 3 blocks and Bryan was in no hurry. The weather was beautiful, still close to seventy five degrees, which was unseasonably warm for the first week of November. While walking his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and answered: “what’s up?” The voice on the other end said, “nothing, what about you?” He immediately smiled. It was a girl that he recently met and was kind of into. She was short, about 5’4”, nice curves, pretty face. She always wore a baseball hat and he loved it. He responded “just walking down Washington, back to the apartment, wanna do something?” She answered, “not now, maybe later, call you back”. He grinned ear to ear said “sure” and hung up. She would be the first girl he dated in a long time. It was hard because he had been through a lot. He knew he was going to be okay. For the first time in a while, he finally knew that. As he reached Washington and 13th street, he stopped and bought a hot dog from a guy barbequing on the corner. TC had been selling dogs on that corner as long as Bryan was coming down that way. TC was a dark skinned black man, probably about fifty five years old. He had a mini afro and a goatee. He had a deep baritone voice that you could hear for miles if he wanted you to. TC also ran that particular block. Nothing happened on that corner without TC approving it. He kept the teenagers in check. He made sure that you could walk down Washington and not worry. Bryan always bought a hot dog from him. Not only did it help ensure that he was safe walking down Washington Avenue, but the hotdog tasted better than any other in St. Louis.

He bought the dog and continued up Washington. As he approached 14th street, he walked by a number of bars and nightclubs. He looked inside, but there was not much going on a Monday night. There were the regulars, drinking their martinis, acting richer than they were, but otherwise, just people he had no interest in dealing with. He did not like them because, as he referred to them, they were douche bags. They all looked the same, dressed the same, and acted wealthy, when in reality they lived with their mothers in West St. Louis County. They were no richer than any other 24 year old in St. Louis, but they sure acted like the owned the world. When Bryan reached 14th street, he turned left. It saved a few minutes to go north on 14th, and walk through the alley to 15th and his building. Even as he was turning, he knew it was not a good decision. The alley, safe by day, at night often had a groups of people hanging out in it. Because it was off of the main streets, crack addicts and prostitutes used it to ply their various wares. On any given night, you could get a rock and blow job in the span of about 10 feet. He also knew that the police were allegedly trying to clean the alley up. Of course, the real reason he went down the alley was because he had been drinking. He had just enough to make sure he did not make good choices and he knew that at this time of night, this was a poor choice. Another effect of the alcohol is it made sure that Bryan didn’t care anymore. He tried to help people every day. He tried to take care of his family. He tried to do the right thing, and in reality it just didn’t matter. The fact was the world was a shitty place and Bryan did not give a fuck. As he walked up the alley, he saw a flash of movement, but he couldn’t get his hands up. He raised them up a split second too late, as the two by four bounced off his wrists and into his head. Because it was a glancing blow, Bryan was not knocked unconscious. Instead, he saw and felt the blood poured out like faucet, shooting all over his attacker. He tried to throw a punch. Though Bryan was not an expert, he had been in fights and knew it was better to hit, then to get hit. The punch missed as his attacker had moved to the left just as Bryan threw the punch. Simultaneously, he felt a horrible pain in his side. His assailant had jabbed him in the ribs with the same two by four. Bryan doubled over in pain, gasping for air. As he bent over, another person cracked him on the head with brass knuckles. Bryan passed out and fell roughly to the pavement.

The kids, because that is what they were, started going through Bryan’s pockets. They searched for money, credit cards, keys, anything they could sell on the street. Unfortunately for Bryan, he had nothing. No money or credit cards. He had used all of his cash during his night out. He didn’t wear expensive jewelry. He didn’t wear a watch. He had nothing, other than a cell phone, that they could sell on the streets. As the searched and found nothing, the two fifteen year olds’ anger grew. This attack began as a simple robbery, but once they realized they were not going to profit, that teenage anger became an uncontrollable rage. The smaller one grabbed the two by four and brought it slowly over his head. He looked at Bryan, and brought it down with so much force that if Bryan had still been there, his head would have splattered all over the concrete. Bryan, however, was not there. Bryan did not know what happened, but an unseen force moved him out of the way and lifted him up on to the nearest building. Bryan, still barely conscious, knew he was up in the air, but had no idea what was really going on. As he “flew” through the air, the unseen support placed him gently on the roof. Bryan, still feeling the affects of getting his ass kicked was completely freaking out. This made no sense to him and he could not figure out what happened. After a what could have been minutes or hours, he began feeling less groggy. Once he felt steady enough, he walked around the roof. He saw nobody. He heard nothing. He found a door, walked down the steps and walked on to Washington Blvd. He walked the final block to his apartment, used the spare key to get in, went to his bed and laid down. He was confused, but he convinced himself that what he thought happened, just didn’t happen.

Chapter 5 Bryan was an average guy in most ways. He was just over 6 feet tall. He weighed about 180 pounds with black hair. He had blue eyes and played a lot of soccer. People called him smart, though he did not always believe it. He always tried to help people when he could and he considered himself a good person. Every day that went by was another day he missed his daughter. It was tough not seeing her everyday. However, he knew that everything was going to be okay. Sometimes, he felt depressed because he couldn’t see his daughter. On the other hand, though her mother was a good girl, the marriage would not have gone anywhere. He knew it. She knew it. And, he knew, that it was for the better. He went through a long stage of depression after the birth of his daughter. He thought about marrying her mother, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea. He missed his child, but he also wanted his daughter to see him happy. He wanted to her that that your own happiness was as important, if not more important, than anything. Without your own happiness, you couldn’t begin to happy with another person. He bought his place on Washington a few years earlier. He had furniture, a new TV, and other electronic equipment. It was his place and he liked it. He wished, and would always wish, he could see his child more often, but all things being equal things were going very well for him.

Chapter 6 Bryan got up the next day feeling nauseated and with a horrible head ache. He figured he would feel this way after the beating he took. He vaguely remembered the “flight” up the building, but he passed it off as a dream. He was confused as to why he had his cell phone, money, and wallet because he knew those had been taken from him, but he assumed that he just did not remember correctly because of his likely concussion. He padded around his house in shorts and a tee shirt. He watched some TV before jumping in the shower to go to work. He got dressed like he usually did, pants, a button up, and decent shoes. No court today meant no tie or coat, though he always kept one in his office because he never knew when he would need to see a Judge. At about 8, he left his apartment and walked to his office at Market and Tucker, about 6 blocks from his house. He walked down Washington to Tucker. He turned right and walked to the St. Louis City Criminal Courts Building. The building used to hold the Federal Courthouse, but in 2004, the Federal Courthouse moved to the newly constructed Thomas Eagleton Federal Building, leaving this building open for state courtrooms and offices. As he walked in, he flashed his bar card at security. They knew him by first name, but it was habit. He walked up and Johnny, one of his favorites, asked him how everything was going. Bryan responded, I just do what I do. Johnny laughed, they clapped hands together and Bryan kept on walking. He walked to the elevators and waited for its arrival. He was still thinking about how stupid he had been the night before, still wondering why he even bothered going through that alley. He knew better, and in fact, he never went that way. Just as the elevator got there, he received a text message : “good day?, mine was okay, but u nvr called ” He quickly responded before getting on the elevator “so far so good, sorry about last nite, will explain l8r, getting on vater”. He really liked that girl, and he couldn’t figure out why. She worked in the Civil Courts Building as a prosecutor. She was younger and newer to the game. They had met briefly over a preliminary hearing and he talked to her for a little bit after the hearing. He had won because she misstated the law on a 4th amendment issue. He told her then, “don’t worry about it you will be winning these before you know it”. This was true, of course, because Defendants might win 1 out of 1000 preliminary hearings. She laughed, flipped her hair, and he saw the twinkle.

He saw the twinkle that every man likes to see in a woman that he is interested in. The twinkle means there is a chance, no matter how miniscule that this could be more than friends or acquaintances. The twinkle means she is thinking the same thing as you are. The twinkle this time had some innocence with a healthy splash of mischief. One week later, he convinced her to go to lunch. She did and they had fun. Two months later the twinkle was still there, in full force, and it made him feel good.

Chapter 7 When he woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the window. He didn’t know where he was, or what he was doing there. He knew that it had been another busy night. He slowly got out of bed, stretching the entire time. He took a deep breath and glided over to the kitchen table. He poured himself some orange juice and wondered how did he exactly end up there? He had no idea. His mind flashed to another time, a time when he was little, running around a slide, playing on swings, doing the things that children like to do. Those days were long gone. Now, he lived in a small one bedroom apartment, although sometimes he wondered if that was even true. His parents had died long ago. His brother, dead. His sister, dead. The only one not touched by the horrible violence, his Uncle. Even he had been touched directly. It was bizarre and he had no answer, but he knew he had to keep doing what he was doing.

Chapter 8 Bryan went to work on Wednesday, just like every other day. He got up, stretched, and got himself some coffee. He walked to work and represented his clients the best way he knew how, which wasn’t always the most effective. On his way home, he began thinking about 2 nights before and what exactly happened. As he was trying to figure out how he ended up on that building, he ran into a prosecutor, Melissa. She asked how he was doing? He responded, “fine, just thinking, I don’t know how long I can do this, I was attacked a couple of days ago, its fucking with me, you know?” Melissa, who was a more reasonable prosecutor, told him “ I do know, I don’t know how you do it, but I know you will keep on keeping on” She smiled, turned left, and said bye. He knew he would keep on keeping on, but he was freaked out, and worried because he still didn’t remember what happened that night. When he got home, he called up some friends to go out. It was Wednesday, the week was almost over, right? They met at Tucker’s. Tucker’s was a bar/restaurant in Soulard. It had great burgers at a fantastic price. It was, and had been for a long time, one of his favorites. While there, he had a few drinks, but nothing too outrageous. His regular was one of two drinks, vodka tonic or corona. Tonight was a vodka night. After eating and drinking, he jumped in his car and drove home. Once he got there, he had a quick conversation with E, crawled into bed, and wondered what tomorrow would bring. The next few weeks were the same, him drinking too much, trying to figure out what to do about E, and trying to remember what happened a couple of nights ago. He was coming to grips with the fact that he might ever know. He was feeling okay when it happened. He appeared.

Chapter 9 It was a Saturday, December 6, 2008. Bryan worked earlier in the day and was walking home. On his walk, a homeless man came up to him and asked him for some help. Bryan responded “no, I don’t have any change”. The homeless man, dressed in dirty jeans, a corduroy jacket, construction boots, and a hat, yelled at Bryan, “you have to have something!”. The loud retort startled Bryan. He just shook his head, repeating that he had none. The homeless man began standing up and walking after Bryan. He was getting scared, so he walked faster, and repeated his original answer, “no”.. The homeless man accused Bryan of not caring, and he “promised he would get food with the money.” He started screaming at Bryan, “give me some fucking money NOW!!!”. Bryan began running, worried it was happening again. Bryan put his head down and began sprinting through a small park to Olive Blvd. All of a sudden, the man appeared in front of him. This time, however, the man was dressed in slacks, dress shoes, a crisp pink shirt, and a coat. This couldn’t be the same man, thought Bryan, but everything else about him was the same. Bryan looked at him, trying to comprehend exactly what he was seeing, but there was no reasonable explanation. There was nothing. The man looked at Bryan and asked him “why wouldn’t you give me money?” Bryan responded, “I don’t know?” “did you think I would use it for something like alcohol or drugs” Bryan said “no”. did you think I would rob you if you didn’t give me some money?” “I don’t know what I thought” “Why did you run from me?” Bryan had no idea. This was the weirdest experience of his life. This couldn’t be the same man, who was asking him for money, could it? The man was taller than Bryan, probably 6’6”. He weighed a solid 260 LBS. He was black, but with light brown skin and very light eyes. He had no hair, clean shaven and obviously strong. He had a look that unnerved Bryan, a look like he knew Bryan’s worst fears and biggest hopes, and oddest dreams. Bryan felt like he knew Him. He felt like he had met this man before, but Bryan could not remember where. It felt like a memory, but a very vague one. The man had a presence that was unbelievable, an aura about him that was unlike anything or anybody that Bryan had ever encountered. In addition, just being in the presence of this person gave Bryan a strength he didn’t think he would ever have. Just being around Him made Bryan feel invincible.

Chapter 10 As Bryan stood over the body, the 10th body, he remembered Him. He remembered how he made him feel, how it felt now, to mutilate his victims. He was in the charcoal suit and pink shirt that he often wore when he was in trial. He knew the jurors liked it. He knew his victims liked it. The first one had been an accident. He had met that man for the first time, this man who made him feel strength like never before. The man talked in a whisper and told him what he had to do. He had to find a woman, any woman would do. He had to take her to a park, kill her, strip her, and hang her from the jungle gym. It sounded so horrible and wonderful at the same time. He thought he wouldn’t be able to do it, but, once he started he found out how easy it was. He met the girl on Washington Avenue. She was 24, blond, tall, and thin. The type of girl that had never liked him. He befriended her. Initially, she blew him off and acted like he wasn’t worth her time. For the first one, he was wearing jeans and a black shirt and she assumed he didn’t have the money for her. He offered to buy her a drink. She told him “chocolate martini”. He bought it, and paid with cash. He was carrying $3,040.00 in cash and she saw it. This is when he knew two things, he was going to kill her and she deserved to die. From the moment she saw the bank roll, she moved closer. She began touching him, putting her hand on his leg, on his back, even rubbing the back of his head. He could play this game, it was one of his favorites. He put his hand on the small of her back, slid down to her waist and then back up. They sat down at the bar and he immediately put his hand on her knee. She held his hand and looked at him like she actually gave a shit. He knew better. She liked his money and that was all. She told him how much she liked a guy who dressed “regular”. This was a lie and with every lie he became angrier and angrier with her. The rage was building and he didn’t think he could control it much longer. The tall man had made it clear, however, that he must control the rage. He told him “Bryan, you will feel rage like never before, but you must rein it in, let it out at the appropriate time, I will be there for you.” Bryan was scared, but responded “I will do as you say, but I don’t think I can do this.” The Man responded in a hoarse whisper, “you can and you will.”

As he sat next to the woman, with her hand moving steadily up his leg, Bryan knew it was time. The rage had subsided, but this only meant he was in more control of his emotions. He knew the feeling would come out at the appropriate time. Julie got up to go to the bathroom. He looked at her drink. The bartender was watching so Bryan ordered another drink. When he turned, he slipped the powder in her martini, her 3rd. The powder would make her drowsy, but she wouldn’t pass out. It would also make her much more pliable. She would do what he said without too much objection. As she strutted back to him, another button on her blouse undone, he knew he had made the right choice. She sat down and finished her martini. Soon after drinking it, she was holding on for balance. He walked her out and they walked down Washington towards Tucker. He turned up what would be 13th street and took her to a little park. On the way he told her “do you know what I am going to do?” She was just drunk enough to response “hopefully you are going to fuck the shit out of me at the playground”. He laughed, and responded “something like that…” Once they hit the sand she fell down. Her legs were spread wide, her skirt up so he could see she had no underwear on. She called for him “I’m ready”. He said “so am I” He pulled the Bowie knife from behind his back. She tried to scream, but before she could even get one noise out, he slid the knife into her throat, through her voice box. She tried to scream, but a guttural growl was the only sound that came from her throat. He knew he didn’t have much time because homeless men often stayed in the park. He took off her shirt and her skirt. He admired her body, sexually, for only a minute before he looked at her directly in the eyes and he told her “you deserve this. You are going to a better place, a place where you can be happy and not whore yourself to guys with a little money.” She cried, but made no sound. He took the knife and sliced her right arm and then her right leg. As the blood poured out of her wounds, he looked at her one more time, placed the point of the knife over her heart, and pushed it straight through. Her body quivered for a minute, and then it she lied still. Her open eyes still staring at him.

Chapter 12 This was power. This is what living was about. This is what He meant when he said He could give Bryan unlimited power and strength. Bryan tied a rope around each of her wrists and ankles. He hoisted her up with a strength he didn’t know he had and let her be. As he walked a way, he looked back and he saw her. Arms and legs out, like a star, tied to the jungle gym. It was beautiful and it was something he would never forget. As he stood over his tenth victim, this time with a pistol in his hand, he knew he couldn’t be caught. Bryan had Him on his side. He was wreaking havoc in all corners of the globe. Bryan was sure of that. He never asked him who He was, or what he was about. Bryan was entranced by the whisper of his voice that carried such a commanding presence. It was not that He was so big and physically imposing, instead, it was his aura. It was his being that Him so powerful. He carried himself like somebody who could do whatever He wanted, and He knew it. He was what every man wanted to be, the true master of his fate.

Chapter 13 Though Bryan wasn’t completely master of his own fate, He had made it closer than anybody else had ever made him feel. Bryan had always been normal. He had always tried to make other people happy and worry about himself later. Before Bryan met Him, he had been down, depressed, and generally hopeless. He could pretend to be happy. There were certainly somethings to be happy about, his daughter, his friends, his job. He had a good time, but his life was not complete. This was okay, but it was another example of his life. He had no control. He was not the master of his fate or his life. Once he met Him, however, this changed. Though Bryan gave Him control. Bryan saw the irony. He felt more in control, even though he found control through the power of another, but Bryan didn’t care. He finally felt alive. As he stood over this victim, gun in his hand, pointed at her knee caps, he felt that same power and control. This one had begged for her life, even mentioning her husband. A husband that she hadn’t cared about when he flashed the wads of cash. Angela had been on a business trip. She lived in Seattle, WA and was in to visit Monsanto. He met her at the hotel bar and he was wearing his customary jeans and tee-shirt. At first, like they always did, she ignored him and treated him like less than dirt. He offered to buy her a drink and she looked him up and down and told him “Sapphire and Tonic”. He got the bartender’s attention and ordered the drink. She looked over as he paid and saw the thick wad of cash he pulled from his pants. From that point on, like with every female victim, she was his. The flirting, touching, hugging all began after seeing the money. He slipped a different drug in her drink, but it worked the same. He took her from the bar and walked her to a nearby fountain. There she sat on the edge of the water and put her arms around his waist. He knew what she was thinking, and frankly, it sounded good. But that wasn’t why he was there. He had bigger things to worry about. He was there to do what needed to be done. As she sat there, he pulled the glock 9MM out of his pocket. He held it so she couldn’t see it until the exact right moment. Then he put it to the side of her head and told her to lie on the fountain edge. She did that. He screwed the silencer on the pistol and shot her in the knee. She tried to scream, but as he shot her he slammed the butt of his hand into her throad, crushing her

voice box. She coughed and screamed all together, but nothing really came out of it. There was no sound because her larynx was crushed. She looked at him, begging with her eyes for this to stop. He only shook his head and smiled. He knew this would never stop because He was on his side so Bryan could do anything. As he aimed the pistol at her heart he could feel the power coursing through his veins. He could actually feel the blood, he could hear his heart beat, he could feel every nerve ending. Then he shot her. Her body quivered, and she died looking at him. He never felt as alive as the moments after he killed them and their empty eyes were looking up at him. He removed her clothes and tied a rope around each wrist and ankle. He lifted her up like she weighed nothing and tied her to the fountain. He ambled away like nothing had happened. As he walked away, he turned around. He didn’t feel remorse, instead he felt the insatiable need to do it all again. It was unbelievable and it was awesome.

Chapter 14 As a child, Bryan, had been extraordinarily smart. He always was good with numbers, but, instead of being a mathematician, scientist, or doctor, Bryan chose the law. This was not a choice in the classic sense of choosing. He became a lawyer because there was not much else for him to do. He graduated college with a BA in History and minor in Russian. He didn’t know what to do, so he worked on computers for a short while. He liked this. He really liked smoking marijuana, drinking, and partying. That is how he spent most of his time after his college graduation. After a couple of years, Bryan decided to take the LSAT. He scored okay and St. Louis University admitted him. He went to law school with no idea what he was going to be, or if he would even be a lawyer. While in law school, Bryan studied some, drank more, and just tried to have fun. He still felt powerless, though. He went because he was supposed to, not because he wanted to. That was his life. But not any more. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted to do it. If was such a thrill to kill another person, the look in their eyes was something that he would never get over. And with Him helping, he knew it would go on forever. Though he never asked, sometimes Bryan wondered if He had helped him that day in the alley. Did He lift him up, before he got brained by those kids? Bryan wanted to know, but what he really was thinking about as he walked from the fountain was whether he could find those kids, and whether he could kill them.

Chapter 16 He had originally been an angel with God. The story sounds similar to the Lucifer or Satan mythology, but this was real. He had always been on the outside looking in, even with God and the angels He truly liked. He was an angel and he was powerful, with a lot of followers, but nothing like God. Over a period of thousands of years, it was evident he would lose. He could not win. So he did what he did best, he tried to kill God. His plan was simple. He created an electric storm of magnitudes that human beings had never seen. After creating the storm, he lured God to a meeting, an old trick, but one that always worked. God showed for the meeting, and He was able to surround God with the electric storm. The storm hurt God, and, in in the beginning, it did not look like God would get out. The currents were flowing through his body. Then, God was able to escape. He did not escape because he was God, he escaped because other Angels helped him. He made it out, and after a period of regaining strength, he survived. He knew that He had to go. God’s survival meant that he could not continue existing near God. God, Angels, and He do not live. They exist. They exist because they are necessary for earth to survive. Of course, there was more than one “earth.” Though human beings on earth believed that they were the only ones, they could not have been more wrong. There were an infinite amount of earths and human beings, or similar creatures. In fact, there was one earth that was identical, with the same people, and the same events. That earth only had small differences when compared to the earth that humans were aware of. For the next millennia, He did nothing because there was nothing to do. Then God decided that He wanted to create human beings and, over eons and eons, they developed from monkeys and apes. As humans evolved, He began making appearances on earth. He first traveled to earth to learn about the planet, the animals, and the human beings. Over time, he traveled more frequently so He could find people to help Him, people who were diametrically opposed to what God wanted from these people. His gift, was not finding those already acting badly. His gift was finding those people who acted good, but, deep in their souls wanted to do evil things, who wanted to make the world suffer from some real, or perceived, slight. That was not only Bryan, but it was also thousands of people before him, and hundreds of thousands of people after him. He knew that if he got enough of them, then maybe God would realize the error in his ways and allow him back. If not,

then he would make sure the humans destroyed themselves, something they were well on the way to doing, with or without his help.

Chapter 17 It was a Saturday and Greyling was sitting on his couch. He was looking out the window, wondering what was going to happen today. He lived on McCree, a street known for its gangs and drug dealing. Greyling had lived there for about 10 years. He originally had lived there with his parents. They were hard working, smart people who raised a bad son. Greyling was now 32 years old and he was earning over $10,000.00 a week selling crack cocaine to “his people” on the street. He ran that block with an iron fist. Some years before, he beat a 13 year old to death over $15.00. He used a bat, the same bat he was holding in his hands right now. When he was in high school, Greyling was a good student who was well liked by everybody. He seemed like he was well on his way to doing something productive and good with his life. Greyling didn’t know if it would turn out that way, but everybody else was sure. Until his 17th birthday, Greyling stayed out of trouble. He didn’t carry a gun, he didn’t smoke weed, sell crack, rob people, assault people, or run in a gang. This meant he was a rare species on the 4100 block of McCree. As he lay on his couch, he was thinking about his 17th birthday. His birthday was in June and it was hot. It was 1995, the cardinals were horrible, and he wanted to go to the park and hang out. He got dressed in baggy jeans, a FUBU shirt, and STL baseball hat. He jumped in his ’85 Oldsmobile and drove over to Tower Grove Park. He was looking forward to chilling with his boys. He drove with the windows down, listening to Tupac on his CD player. He had a “box” in the trunk, with 2 15” subs, and a 2000 watt amp. His system was fantastic. He good looking rims on his car, and he was dressed nice. He looked the part of a drug dealer, but he just worked very hard. Once he got to Tower Grove, he parked the car on the street and moved to get out of his car. He opened the door, and put one leg outside the car, lifting himself up. As he stood up, he saw the group of kids walking towards him. He knew they were trouble, but they knew he wasn’t in a gang, so he didn’t pay them much mind. He wasn’t carrying, and they would know that because that was not his style.

Chapter 18 They approached him, and the man in the middle, l-train, pulled a 9MM from behind his back. He pointed it directly on Greyling, and said “hey, little nigger, give up the car”. Greyling hesitated, and L-Train repeated “give up the fucking car!!!”. Greyling reached into his pockets to get the keys, but L-Train, and the rest of the 4141s thought he was reaching for a gun. L-Train said “get yo fucking hands out of your pockets, or I will fucking kill you!”. At that moment, Greyling felt like he was being pulled through the air. He was scared, but, at the same time, felt a warm sensation of peace all around him. He couldn’t see anything, and later, he could only remember the feeling, but he ended up near his friends. He walked down the sidewalk and said “what’s up?”. As he was walking, he passed a man, about 6’2”, light brown skin, no hair, dark piercing eyes. The man’s voice was a loud whisper “Greyling, what’s up?”. Greyling looked at him, and felt like the man was looking right through him. It was unnerving, but oddly powerful. Greyling never felt so strong The man kept walking, but as he passed Greyling, he again whispered, this time saying “Greyling, you will serve me.” Greyling, initially, out of bravado, said back “I won’t serve you nig…”, but the man kept staring, and Greyling let it go. He felt an indescribable euphoria. He hoped it would never go away. Greyling walked to his friends and told them about his run in with the 4141s. He then laid out his plan to get them, and take back the block, to make it his. The plan involved a lot of violence and blood shed, and he didn’t care. He was going to do it, whether they were with him, or not.

Chapter 19 The next day, Greyling went to a guy, Mack, around the corner and bought a pistol. He had money because he sold his system and rims so he could make this plan happen. At around midnight, he left his house looking for L-Train. He knew where he usually hung out, on the corner of McCree and Tower Grove. He walked the 3 blocks to the intersection, and, as usual, there was L-Train sitting on the stoop. Greyling watched for a few minutes, wondering if L-Train ever got off the fucking stoop. Greyling called for him, L-Train got up, trying to find the voice. It looked like he wasn’t carrying his gun in his hand. Greyling watched L-Train walk to the side walk. As his foot hit the side walk, Greyling circled behind him and was directly behind him. He pointed the gun at the back of LTrain’s head. Instead of pulling the trigger and ending it, Greyling whistled, quick and low. L-Train turned around, startled, and he saw the barrel of a 9MM staring him in the face. L-Train yelled “what you gonna do with that nigga??” Greyling just looked at him, staring, his eyes darker than before. His look and mood scared L-Train who then said “don’t fucking kill me, man, I wasn’t gonna do that to you.” Greyling, “like fuck you weren’t” and he took the gun, and pretended to lower it. L-Train responded “I knew you were a fucking pussy”, and Greyling, looked up and gave him an unnerving smile, and shot L-Train in the knee cap. The knee cap exploded and L-Train hit the ground screaming like a little bitch. Greyling got a perverse joy out of the pain he caused L-Train. He was laughing as he pointed the gun at L-Train’s head. He stood over him, feeling a power he had never felt before, he told L-Train “good night, nigger” and pulled the trigger. Gun play in the neighbor hood was such a regular occurrence, that nobody called the police until 30 minutes had passed. By then, Greyling was back in his house, planning the hit of the other 3 who had messed with him that night.

Chapter 20 Over the following 4 weeks, Greyling assassinated the other members of the 4141s. He killed them in different ways, all with a message to the other boys on the block. While it might have been the 4141s block for a long time, it wasn’t their block any more. Over the next 13 years, Greyling only solidified his power on that block, as well as the 10 blocks in each direction from the hive, or his house. Greyling ran everything, crack, heroin, marijuana, guns, prostitution, and illegal gambling. His power was unmatched in the city, but there was only one thing that actually made him feel good; the unnecessary, but extremely amusing, killing of another human being. Everybody on the block knew that Greyling had a legitimate problem when it came to killing people. At this point, the total might have been forty people, it might have been one hundred. There was never any evidence linking him to any of the homicides. In fact, there was no physical evidence, never eye-witnesses, and Greyling always had a alibi. It was almost like he was protected. On this day, Greyling was going to see his kids. They lived with his babies’ mama, on South Grand. He really didn’t like her, but he was trying to be a father to his kids. He was doing what he was supposed to, at least as it related to them. He visited DeVonta and DeShea every other day, at the least. They were 5 and 8 and smart kids. He kept them out of the fray, but they had some idea there dad was not one of the good guys. His babies’ mama, Shauntae, worked and always had money. Greyling took care of her too, even if he always had at least 2 other girls on the side. Greyling was the picture of a family man when he went to see the kids, but as soon as he turned on Tower Grove, it was a different story. He drove the block like he owned it. Nobody looked him in the face, because they knew he might come back and kill them in some sadistic way simply because he wanted to. Everybody knew he wasn’t going to get convicted for these crimes, so they chalked it up to living by his rules. The rules of the neighborhood were not the rules of the everyday society. It was not “treat people as you want to be treated”. It was treat people in a way so they respect you, or fear you. To Greyling, it made no difference if you feared him or respected him, either way, you would do what he said.

It was not “turn the other cheek”, but it was and eye for almost nothing. There was no predictability. There was only fear. The police couldn’t help because the so-called good neighborhoods had their own problems. The police wouldn’t spend time on McCree when Holly Hills had its own crack cocaine problem, a problem subsidized and supported by Greyling.

Chapter 21 Even if the police were interested, on McCree, news traveled more quickly than with the internet. Once a strange car or person entered any part of the neighborhood, the kids would start hoot and hollering. If the person looked to be a cop, those same kids would make one set of sounds. They would signal quickly to some people nearby, who would let 3 pigeons go. They would fly up, and the neighborhood would know that police were in the area. It worked and it kept the criminals from going to jail. The police could not infiltrate the organization. A couple of years back, a new undercover actually infiltrated to the point he was seeing actual criminal behavior. Nobody knows how, but Greyling figured it out before anybody else. He took this guy, Jeremy, with him. He told Jeremy that he needed back up on a big drug deal. The deal was going to take place in the warehouse district on North Broadway. They drove there in Greyling’s car. Once they got there, Jeremy and Greyling got out of the car. Greyling walked behind Jeremy to point to where they were going. With his other hand, Greyling took a Bowie knife and slid it into Jeremy’s back. As Jeremy turned around in shock, Greyling removed the knife. He had purposefully put the knife where he did because he knew it wouldn’t cause immediate death. He walked a weakened Jeremy down to a nearby warehouse. He asked Jeremy who he worked for, and Jeremy replied “you.”. Greyling yelled back “wrong fucking answer…, I know you don’t work for me”. With that he took the knife, and slowly sliced off one ear. He asked Jeremy again, who was now crying for his wife, who again said “you.”. Greyling sliced off the other ear. He jabbed Jeremy in the nose with the knife. He told Jeremy to smile, and he put the knife in Jeremy’s mouth. The blade was against the left corner of Jeremy’s pained smile. Greyling slid the knife out, slowly, and sliced Jeremy’s cheek to the top of his jaw. He did the same thing to the other side.

Chapter 23. Jeremy was feeling so much pain, he just wanted to die. He could watch his family from heaven. Greyling, seemingly, hearing him, took the knife one more time, and stuck it deep in Jeremy’s chest. The knife pierced Jeremy’s heart and he died. Greyling felt no remorse for this torture and killing. He took the body and unclothed it. He tied rope around each wrist and ankle. Although he didn’t know what he was doing, his hands worked at a feverish pace, and when it was over, Jeremy was hoisted up to the rafters of the warehouse, naked, with hands and legs splayed and held in place by these ropes. It was quite a site, and Greyling, down below, smiled at his masterpiece. Greyling didn’t know it, but He was smiling too. He was watching from the roof of the same warehouse, thinking, this could not go any better.

Chapter 24. The new year had just passed and Bryan was sitting on his couch wondering what he would do next. He had watched some football, drank some beer, and talked to his girlfriend. It was an interesting time for him. The night after he got attacked, Bryan couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he had a vision. A vision of the same man he saw later, six feet, two inches, big guy with a shaved head and dark pearcing eyes. He knew he that remembered the man, but he could not place where. Bryan was not a big church goer, but there was no doubt his life had turned for the better since he met Him. Work was better, in fact he hadn’t lost a trial in over 6 months. His personal life was better, and he even had more money. Other law firms had begun calling asking him to come join them. Some even offered signing bonuses and other perks so he would join them. Things simply could not be better. He knew he would have the urge again soon to hurt somebody. He could not understand why, but he did. He never put two and two together that it might be related to Him. And that is how He liked it. He had been doing the same thing for thousands of years. He found weak minded people, who felt powerless and He gave them power. He made them feel like they could do anything, and until he decided otherwise, they could. He met with some of the most famous, and infamous, people in history. Caesar, Mehmed II, Holy Roman Emperors, Louis XIV, King James I and II, Mary Queen of Scotts, Idi Amin, FDR, JFK, RFK, Catherine the Great, Ivan the Terrible, and the list went on and on. He wasn’t Satan or Lucifer as so many people referred to him. He was much more than that. He was better. Satan had failed in his attempt to be the ruler of Heaven and over throw God. He would not fail. He would succeed. This plan that he hatched over 3000 years before was going to work and he could see that everyday. Every day he read stories of people getting raped, killed, maimed, slaughtered, tortured, and destroyed all over the world. He was involved with some of those events, but with many, he had nothing to do with it. And that is why he knew it would work. That is why he knew that the end was coming and he would rule the heavens and the earth.

In another part of the country, a little boy is outside playing with his puppy. The puppy, Loki, is a beautiful black New Foundland /Labrador Retriever mix. He is big, clumsy, and everything this little boy could want in a dog. The boy, Spencer, is only 7 years old. He classic all American kid. He lives in Wisconsin, near Superior. It is July, so it is mid-80s and he is playing out side with his dog. He throws a ball across his yard, the Loki runs to get it. Loki and Spencer are together all of the time, they are completely inseparable. Spencer is 7 and he is bi-racial. His mother is white, his father black. Spencer is very smart and does well in his second grade class. He is neither popular or not, he just gets along. Spencer does, however, notice all of the bad things going on in the world. He wishes they would stop, but they don’t. Every day before bed, Spencer, while waiting to fall asleep, says a little prayer, hoping that the horrible things he sees on the news everyday will stop. Every morning, the news is the same, or worse. In California, there is a child who is 9 years old. Larry is Hispanic and a great athlete. Every day, before he goes to bed, he also says a prayer asking for the horrible things to stop. All over the nation there are these children who want the violence to end, who say their prayers, but who will continue to be disappointed because the violence simply continues. It is now the second week of January 2009 and Bryan is antsy. He is sitting on his couch eating a bowl of spaghetti-os and hotdogs; his favorite dinner. As he sits slurping them out of the yellow plastic bowl, he is thinking. He can’t figure out why July 4, 2010 has such significance to him. There is no reason, but the number remains in his head, and it won’t go away. It makes no difference. He is feeling frisky and he needs to find something to do. He puts on dark blue jeans and kobra kai t-shirt. He is also wearing an old pair of grey tennis shoes and a wrap on his head to cover his ears. He checks his Ipod and sees it is 35 degrees and there is a slight chance of snow. He puts on his black leather jacket and walks down the stairs to the door outside. On the way down, he passes Julie, a girl who lives in his building. She is medium height and build, but very nice. She says “hi Bryan”, he responds “what’s going on?”

She tells him “nothing. I am just trying to decide if I want to do anything tonight. My boyfriend told me he can’t go out because he has to work, but I don’t believe him and I don’t know what I am going to do.” Bryan, now sorry for asking, responds “that is too bad, I hope you get that worked out.” As he keeps walking down the stairs, Julie yells after him “what are you doing, wanna get a drink??” Bryan knows that if he gets a drink with her, one of two things will happen, she will get killed, or he will fuck the shit out of her. He knows he can’t kill her because she lives in the building. He might be a suspect and that would not be good. He knew he needed to get to July 4, 2010, but, again, he didn’t know why. He really didn’t want to go out with her, so he said “not today, I am meeting somebody, but we will soon, okay?” She smiled and said “no problem, I am looking forward to it, have fun.” He waved good bye as he walked down to the front door. When he opened the door, he felt the blast of St. Louis cold air hit him in the face. It was windy, cold, and the snow was starting to fall. He pulled his jacket around his neck a little tighter and began walking down Washington. When he got to Flannery’s, he went inside. Flannery’s was an okay place. It had a lot of dark wood and hard benches. It also had a lot of flat screen TVs, good beer, and decent looking people. He wasn’t out to do dirt tonight, he was out to see how things would go. He was by himself, something that never really bothered him. He never minded sitting at a bar, by himself, watching a little TV. He found a seat at the bar and ordered his favorite, Ketel One and tonic. The bartender knew him and made a legitimate drink. He dropped some cash on the bar and told her to keep the change. She smiled at him and went about doing something else. He drank that first drink very quickly. It tasted good and it went down very smooth. He drank the second drink just as quickly. He was starting to feel good now, and he didn’t know where this night might go. He had ideas, but he wasn’t sure. The bartender, Ashley, walked up and asked if he needed anything else. He told her, “one more,” and she poured it and he drank it. Now he was feeling very good.

He pulled his jacket back on, walked to the door, turned and waved bye to Ashley, and walked outside. He had no idea what was in store, but he couldn’t wait. On the other side of town, Greyling, had just finished rolling a philly. He was sitting on the couch with 4 of his boys asking how things were going. P-Nut told him that down on Towergrove, “everything was good”. Looda told him that up on North Grand, they had some problems with some police, but nothing too bad. Billy, who was second in command, and knew it, asked Looda “what you mean trouble with police?” Looda responded “seems like they got somebody working for us, working for them…” “who?” “don’t know, but I have heard that little T was taken down town some time ago.” “I can’t believe that little nigger would do that, think he doing it G?” Greyling sat back thinking about all he had seen and done over the past 14 years. He remembered his first murder, knee capping the guy. He remembered taking the rest of the 4141s out. He remembered how it felt as he expanded his power to cover more than just McCree. He had successfully avoided the police for a long time, by applying some basic principles: 1. nobody dealt with G, who he did not know personally, 2. everybody feared him because of what he had done and what he would do, 3. always, always, take care of your own. Greyling lived by the last rule more than any. He took care of his people because he knew if somebody was looking for him, they would take care of it and take care of him. He knew he made money off the people in the neighborhood. They supported his house, his cars, his flat screens, his guns, his block. The woman who tricked on the street helped Greyling. The 12 year olds running drugs to the Mexicans in Jefferson County helped Greyling. The 40 year old crack whore helped Greyling. In turn, Greyling took care of them. He gave them money when they needed it. He gave the homeless food. He made sure nobody got beat unless he ordered it. Above all else, nobody got dead without his approval. The fact that little T would do that to him make him sick to the core. Now he had to deal with it. He didn’t know how he would, but he needed to send another message, a message similar to the messages he had been sending his entire life. He was standing on top of Greyling’s house. It was rare that he had two working for him so successfully at one time. He had not orchestrated a meeting between Greyling and Bryan, but he would. It was so close now that he could taste it. He could taste the end of human kind. He

could see the blood shed. He could see the devastation. He could see the anguished cries of women and children as everything that the knew was destroyed. Over the last 3000 years, He had been trying to get the perfect storm to finally make it all His. He had come close in previous years. In 476 A.D, Rome fell because of the help he gave the barbarians, but it wasn’t enough. God, through his religion, had allowed human kind to survive. In 1453, the turks captured Constantinople. That was almost the end. At the same time, He had people working in other areas of the world, but again, Mehmed II died of natural causes (something he coulnd’t prevent) and his plan failed. In the 12th century, during the crusades, it almost worked. He had people in the Holy Land, a place he hated, ready to cause the required chaos. Again, good had won out. In 1939, Hitler had given it a shot and He was there, but again, it failed. In 2001, He tried again, but again it failed. It was now 2008, but He was going to patient this time. He had learned that you can’t force it. He must allow it to happen at its own rate, and eventually human kind will disappear. His target was simple July 4, 2010. That date held no real significance other than it was the birthday of the country that angered Him most of all. Many times, it was the United States that had prevented the all out war and chaos necessary to reach his goal. Now, though, he had Greylings and Bryans in every city, ready, even if they didn’t know it, to start what he wanted started. When he first met any person, He only had to look at them. His eyes were more than pearcing, they could read the soul. He knew which people would consider doing his bidding simply by examining their soul. Some people would not, and he knew it, and he kept on walking. Others, like Bryan, wanted to help, their soul was there for the taking. People like Bryan were the best because they would swear up and down, before the meeting, that they would never do anything like what they would do. They would deny the powerlessness. They would deny the hatred. They would deny the anger, rage, and violence that was built in to their systems and their soul.

Bryan had not been difficult in any sense of the word. Their first meeting was when He saved him from the attack. He had not orchestrated it, but it worked to perfection. After leading him out of harms way, to that roof, he whispered in his ear “if you want power, I can give it to you.” When He whispered people listened, but usually didn’t even know that it happened. It was often described like they remembered it happening, but not remembering any details of what was said. Bryan staggered home that night and He watched. He watched him go to bed and He watched him get up. The next day, He continued to show up places that Bryan was. He passed him on the street. He was in the same coffee shop. He was every place and he was no place. Every time he saw Bryan, he whispered as he walked by. Finally, later the next night, Bryan was sitting at a bar, by himself, having a drink. He walked in, wearing the customary jeans, t-shirt, and trench coat. He sat down next to Bryan, who said “what the fuck, there a hundred other seats, sit in one of them!”. He only whispered “I will sit where I want.” Bryan tried to get up to move seats, but He grabbed his wrist. At that moment, Bryan knew this was different. He looked in Bryan’s eyes and looked at his soul. He knew it would be okay. Bryan was filled with anger, rage, and violence. He whispered to him “whatever you need, I can provide, but I need you.”. Bryan looked at him, drunk, confused, and strangely happy, and said “I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about, but this is not that type of party.” He laughed, a bellowing, loud laugh. Bryan asked “what is so fucking funny??” He responded, “what do you think? You are. You think you are so tough. You think you are so funny. You are nothing. You are less than nothing. You don’t matter at all on this fucking planet, and the best thing about that is you know it. You know that nobody cares about you. I could kill you right now, and nobody would know the difference. You act tough and act cool because you want to feel that way, even though you know that will never happen. You are trying so hard to be something you aren’t, that you have completely forgotten how to be you. Let me tell you something, I can make you into everything you want to be. I can make it so you can talk to girls. I can make so girls want to talk to you. I can make you dangerous. I can make it so you have power. Because that is what we all want, isn’t it, power. I can make those things happen for you. I can make you feel better than you have ever felt before in your life. The question is, whether you want to give that a shot or not?? I think you are too much pussy to take me up on this offer. If you are interested, I will be sitting at that table over there.” As he pointed to a table in the back of the restaurant.

Bryan watched Him walk away. He couldn’t believe what he heard, but it was all true. He did feel powerless. He did feel weak and dumb and not funny. All things that he portrayed as true. He felt like he had nothing to give the world, let alone his own children or his family. He felt like the black sheep, the one nobody really liked, even if they acted like they did. He felt worthless. He didn’t want to walk over to that guy. He didn’t want to see what he was all about, but he had to. It was the only way and he knew it. He got up from the bar stool and he walked to the back corner of the bar. He was sitting in a booth, waiting, like he knew that Bryan would be back there. He motioned for Bryan sat down. Bryan sat. As he sat down, a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. It was as if, things were already better. He felt happier almost immediately. He looked at Bryan, looking in to Bryan’s soul, and liked what he saw. “do you want to be powerful?” he asked Bryan. Bryan responded “I do.”. Do you want to be confident?”, “yes I do”. “I can make those things happen. You need to do certain things for me, but otherwise, you can be all of those things if you want.” “I do want to be those things, I will be those things, I will do what you need.” With that, He smiled. He knew that he had another one. Also on Washington Avenue that night was John Gersemeyer. John was 29 years old and struggling to survive. He had an apartment two blocks north of Washington and he so wanted to belong. He also was single, living in a small one bedroom. The apartment did not have much, a bed, a couch, and a table. He didn’t have cable TV, he liked to read instead. He was a social worker in a local school. He saw the horrible things that were happening all around him and he just couldn’t believe it. He often wondered if there was anything he could do help, but he really didn’t think so. He often wondered the streets at night, trying to help those that wanted it. Even with little of his own money, he would hand out sandwiches, blankets, and other items that the homeless of St. Louis needed. That is simply what he did. He wanted to help people. John was special. He always knew he felt different, but he never understood how. He spoke in a soft voice, with a nice melody. People often told him that when he talked, it sounded like he was signing. John had light blue eyes, with caramel skin. He wore his hair short, though not completely bald. He was about under 6 feet tall, but not by much. He kept in pretty good

shape, though he didn’t do everything he should. Overall, however, he was what you want people to be. He was giving, he loved other people, he wanted the world to be a better place. He felt, unfortunately, that he was one of the only people who believed that. That troubled him. He always tried to reach others, and make them see the way. They often just didn’t understand. John was not religious. He did not go to church. He was raised a Catholic, but did not practice any more. His beliefs moved away from the church, but he still understood the pull of religion. He spoke about religion to small groups of people as he traveled around the city. He would mention Jesus Christ, God, the Holy Spirit. He would tell the story of Jesus’ crucifixtion. He told the story of Jesus rising again. But he also told stories from the Koran, teaching people about Mohammed. He talked about the beginning, even if he believed in evolution, he strongly believed that God played a role in it. John did not evangelize. He did not try to force people to believe what he believed, he simply wanted to tell people that there was a better way. Slowly, but surely, he felt like he was making headway. There were more people around when he spoke, and the crowds became more boisterous and interested in listening. He was inspiring people, even if he did nor really understand how. One thing about John that he was thinking about mentioning were the visions he had. At certain times, and they seemed to be controlled by nothing, he would receive a vision of something that was going to happen, or recently happened. When the playground murders began, he would see the man who did it. The police would not listen when he tried to give them a description. The visions also told him of the humongous drug trade occurring on McCree, but again, nobody would listen. They told him about children in bad places, that needed help, but nobody would listen. He saw the horrible murder of a young mother in Chesterfield before it happened. He called the family one hour before the murder, before anybody even knew she was missing. He told them that she was in trouble and she could be found at Laumeier Scuplture Park. Laumeier Sculpture Park is an outdoor sculpture park containing hundreds of sculptures from local artists. Nobody believed him. The police did not believe him. The family did not believe him, instead they called him names and told him to stop harassing them. Her husband, Terry, yelled at him and told him to never call again. He didn’t.

The police found her 48 hours later, sliced to nothing, hanging from one of the sculptures. She had been tortured over a 36 hour period, raped vaginally and anally, and killed slowly. He had seen this before it happened, but nobody cared. The previous week, he had a vision of a 76 year old woman living on Martin Luther King Drive getting killed in a drive by. He tried to warn her. He walked to her house, avoiding gun fire himself, knocked on her door and told her that she should not go near any windows. She shoed him away, calling him crazy and telling him “I have lived here for 50 years, walking by windows and doors, nothing has every happened to me, and I don’t think anything will happen now.” Two days later, while she was washing her windows, a 17 year old drove by shooting an AK-47 at a rival gang member. As the car drove by Emma’s house, a bullet shattered the window, and pearced her heart. She died instantly. John carried all of these events with him. The visions were becoming more common and more detailed. What did they matter if nobody would pay attention to him. He also knew that he was looking for a man killing these woman. The count was 10, but he had a recent vision with another getting killed. He did not understand his gift, but he knew he had to use it for good. He planned on doing that. When Bryan walked out of the bar that first night, he never felt so alive. Everybody was looking at him differently. He walked with a strut, with an attitude that let people know he was somebody that was not to be fucked with. He liked it. The power he felt was like nothing he had felt before. He hoped it never went away. The genius of His plan was simple, he never gave actual instructions to the people doing his bidding. He always laughed at movies and books were He would tell people to do things, “kill your sister”, “shoot the teacher”, “slaughter your neighbors.” He never did that. He allowed people to do what the needed to do to feel like they wanted to feel. He understood human nature. He knew that people wanted to feel good. He also knew that most people felt the best when they were doing, or thinking, something that weren’t supposed to do or think. That is what made people feel powerful. Power was simply about having the ability to do what one wants to do when one wants to do it. There is no greater power than controlling yourself. That is what he gave them.

Of course, He understood the irony. Since he was giving them power, they really did not have it. He knew true Power was not doing his bidding, but it was not doing it. That is why he focused on certain people. He had similar “soldiers” in every city, no matter how small, through out the globe. In Boston, there was an attorney, who He met on the train. The man had nothing. He was bored, tired, and his soul was dead. As soon as they made eye contact, He knew he had him. He went to a bar, and the attorney, Tim Coonan, walked inside. As Tim approached, He looked at him, knowing how this would turn out. Tim stared at those eyes, mesmerized by how dark, and deep, they were. He asked Tim, “if you want to talk, go over there.” As he pointed to a dark booth in the corner. Tim ordered a drink, Absolut Citron, chilled. He drank it. He then ordered another. He drank it and walked over to the booth. As he walked up, he noticed not only the piercing eyes, but also the aura surrounding this man. The power that emanated from him was like nothing he had ever seen or felt. He knew that he would do what this man wanted him to do. Tim was excited because he felt like something was actually going to happen in his life. He looked at Tim as he walked over, disappointed. He could not believe how far the human race had fallen. For a minute, he remembered the humans of centuries before. They carried themselves like men. They fought with real weapons. They did not use a button to blow something up. Instead, they walked up to you, and cut of your fucking head. That was how a real man handled problems. They did not passively sit and watch life happen. Instead, they aggressively sought lift, because they had to, but they sought it. When they hunted, they used a knife or a spear. They had enough respect for the animal that they would stalk it, jump on it, kill it. And not for a trophy, but for food and survival. Not any more. People now don’t do anything in a legitimate fashion. They kill with guns, not with knives or clubs. They hunt with high powered rifles from great distances. When do they succeed, they put the animals head on a wall. They have no respect. Humans were becoming soft. There was no doubt about that, He wanted it to stop.

Tim Coon was the perfect example of that. He had a stomach paunch. He was disheveled, he was weak. He looked weak. He had no confidence. He couldn’t survive ten minutes without his phone, his car, air conditioning, and his escargot appetizers. In a word, he was pathetic. As Tim approached, He wondered if he shouldn’t just take him out, end the misery that was this guy’s life. He certainly looked like a man who needed to be put our of his misery. In the end, He gave Tim Coon a chance. Tim sat down, and his eyes showed something. They showed a man that might make it, if given the proper instructions and proper strength and confidence. He knew he could give him that. And He did. After they talked, Tim Coon left the restaurant. He went home to his wife of 20 years and told her to fuck off. He was done. He left the house and immediately rented an apartment on the other side of town. He had power, and he loved it. After he went to his new apartment, he went out. He felt different, people looked at him differently, this was very good. That happened one year ago. To date, Tim Coon had caused as much chaos as some of his more solid producers. Just like everybody, He hadn’t thought Tim Coon would amount to much, but, instead he was turning Boston into a veritable horror show. Tim Coon wasn’t close to being caught, but there were people looking. A group of people were forming who believed they had visions, who believed they could stop what was going to happen. He was not concerned though. This was the first time that he had soldiers who were really capable. This was the first time that He had people who could continue doing what he needed done. This was the first time He had an army that could win this battle. The battle that would end all battles and put Him in his rightful place. This would work and He would win. Many people confused his intent. He did not want to destroy the human race, he wanted to improve it. He simply believed that “free-will” had destroyed it all ready. He knew that humans weren’t as strong as they used to be. He knew they were nothing like they were, and it killed him. He wanted to see humans in his image. Not pussy footing around, scared by everybody and everything. He wanted to see them walking around, alive, with souls that actually still cared about living. People were dead inside. He could see it, the soldiers could see it, and the regular people could see it.

The regular people only needed a little goading. They needed a push to understand what they were going to do. They were different from the soldiers. The soldiers had a look that let Him know that at one time, or someplace deep in their souls, there were, or are alive. Their soul was almost dead, and in some cases, it was dead, but it could be revived. These people wanted to feel like he could make them feel. They wanted to feel free. They wanted to feel power. They wanted to dominate other people. This was not because they were bad or evil, it was because they were as human beings were meant to be, strong, smart, and dominating. God had turned humans into sniveling wimps who couldn’t do anything without wondering who or what was going to be mad at them. This was no way to live, but most humans did not get it. Those he did not “talk” to, would come over. He had no doubt. They needed a push, and that is what the soldiers did. The soldiers created chaos because nothing made people resort to their base instincts like chaos and uncontrollable fear. Every person was essentially the same, if you take them out of their element, they reacted like an animal does when cornered. They fall back into their basic instincts. They become what He wanted them to become. The soldiers job was simple, have fun, do what you want, and wreak havoc where ever, and when ever you can. The soldiers simply had to make regular people feel uncomfortable. Whether it was by killing 10 – 15 people in a short time period, running a gang that controlled the streets with an iron fist, winning a Senate Seat by completely smearing, untruthfully, your opponent, or doing anything else you can imagine that would make people uncomfortable and scared. Once the regular people were scared enough, the second part of his plan would be set into motion. He was close to this second section. He was close to pulling this all together, he could feel it, and it felt good. He knew this would work, he had the right people, chaos was every where, and people were scared. Everyday he read the news. He saw stories of children raped, women murdered, more gang killings, the spread of methamphetamine, crack cocaine, and heroin. He read stories of more police brutality, serial killers, and other senseless acts of unbelievable violence. In other countries, that were further along then the United States, he read stories of gang rapes by police and/or soldiers, he read of torturing women and children, the burning of corpses, and other horribly violent acts taking place on, not a daily schedule, but hourly.

This was coming together nicely and He felt good. He never got too confident. There were other times where he was sure it was going to work, only to be spoiled by some group, usually put forth by God. The Catholics, the Jews, the Holy Roman Empire, and countless others who put an end to His plans. While he was not cocky, He really believed this time it would work. This was it, it was finally His time, and he was excited. Detective Amouri was tired. He was 48 years old and had worked for the St. Louis Police Department for the past 25 years. He started as a beat cop, walking the neighborhoods of south St. Louis. His first beat was on McCree. He used to love walking the streets, talking to people, making everybody feel safe. In the old days, even though he had a gun, he never even checked to see if it was loaded. When he started, people respected him because he was officer, period. There was nothing else needed. Over the past 25 years, however, the people in the city just didn’t care any more. He saw it in their eyes, they simply did not care about, or even look like they wanted, law and order. It was disconcerting. In 1985, after ten years as a beat cop, Amouri became a detective. He started in vice, did robbery, property crimes, and homicide. He was a homicide detective now, and it was busier than he ever remembered. It wasn’t busy with the regular gang murders, though he had a lot of those. He was busy with 5 different cases that all appeared to be seriel killers. He had leads, but none of them were very promising. In one, teen age boys were getting killed in west st. louis city. The boys were all under twenty, and possibly homosexual. Of course, the families did not believe they were gay, but everything about them pointed in that direction. They all frequented gay bars off of Manchester Road, they all lived in what were considered to be “open” areas of the city, and they all were found with something inserted in their rectum. He knew, of course, that could just be trying to trick the police into moving in the wrong direction, but here, he thought they were right. So far, he was watching 3 people, but he had absolutely no evidence against any of them. One was a 52 year old attorney. One was a 28 year old mechanic. The third was a 62 year old retired accountant. All appeared to dabble with young boys and all had the opportunity. The dead boys all had been seen in the vicinity of the three suspects, but, they all did live in the same area.

There was a working theory that the these three were actually working together, but there was no evidence that they ever spent any real social time together. They did not communicate as far as the police could tell, but it actually made sense. The boys who were killed were well built, strong, young boys. They all would have been able to defend themselves. There were no narcotics found in their systems so they must have been physically overpowered. This was also consistent with the horrible beating that all 14 deaths. Every one of the 14 was physically destroyed. Their faces were beaten with fists, hammers, clubs, screwdrivers, baseball bats, and in one case, brained by golf club. For Amouri, who worked for the Major Case Squad, these were some of the worst beatings he had ever seen. Amouri was also working possible serial killers in south st. louis, west st. louis county, north st. louis county, and 10 women who had been tortured, killed, disembowled, and put on display near Washington Avenue. In all cases, the victims were not only killed, but also tortured, cut, and often also put on display. A similar feature of all 5 cases was the display aspect of the bodies. Although every body was not displayed in the same manner, in each case, at least 4 bodies were displayed by tying each hand and each foot and tying each extremity so they body was displayed, like a spider web. It was quite a spectacle to see that and it was disturbing to the general public as well as the police who worked on the scene. Amouri was a religious man and he was beginning to think that this might be the work of some other being. He had been hearing stories from possible witnesses of the same man hanging around crime scenes. He was described as being between 6 feet and 6’6”. He was always described as shaved bald with very dark black piercing eyes. He didn’t know who this man was, but he wanted to find him. After work, Amouri left the office, jumped in his 1996 camaro, and drove to his church. On Tuesdays, Amouri helped with a soup kitchen. Every Tuesday, in fact, since 1980, Amouri went to the small church that his parents had originally attended, and served soup to the homeless people from the neighborhood. He loved going because it gave him perspective on his life, and the things that had happened to him and his family. At one time, Amouri was married with 2 children. His wife, Mara, had been beautiful. She was a couple of years younger than her husband. Once she turned 26, she had the first of their two boys, Andrew. Andrew was everything that a you would want a child to be. He was smart, considerate, and friendly. Three years later, Mara gave birth to their second child, Anthony. Anthony was precocious, confident, but he had a wonderful heart.

When the boys were 15 and 12, respectively, Mara took them to a baseball game. After the game, a St. Louis Cardinals win, the three began walking to their car. Originally, Amouri was supposed to go. In fact, he was dressed and ready to leave when his beeper went off. The kids told him to ignore it, but he just couldn’t. This happened well before cell phones, pagers, and blackberries. When Amouri’s beeper beeped, he had to call an exchange and they told him the message. When his beeper went off on this particular Sunday, Amouri called the exchange. The operator told him of a murder that had just happened in the Central West End. Amouri had only recently made Detective in homicide, so he knew he had to go. He couldn’t blow off his first homicide call. That would not be good for his career. He told his wife and kids he loved them, gave them all hugs, and walked out the door. If he had known that would be the last time he saw them, he would have held them so much longer. He would have made them tell him how much they loved him. He would have told them that they meant more to him than anything or anybody on the planet. He would have told them they were his life, the center of his world, his everything. But he didn’t. He said, “I love you guys, see you later.” When his wife asked when he would be home, Amouri snapped “I don’t know, please just let me do my job!” He kissed her on the cheek and left. When Mara, Andrew, and Anthony left the baseball game, they did not know their lives were going to end. As was customary, they parked a long way from Busch Stadium, parking one block west of Tucker. The game ended at about 4:15 and they began the walk to their car. On the way, they passed a parking garage under the Marriot Hotel. As they were approaching, about 6 men jumped out of the garage and herded them inside. They were dressed in black, and ranged in age from 15 to 28. Mara told them they could have anything they wanted. She would walk to the ATM and withdraw as much money as they wanted. She begged them to let her children go, but the men just laughed at her. Three of the men pulled out guns and pointed them at the three people. Luckily, or unluckily, the men shot Andrew and Anthony immediately. They died instantly from single gun shot wounds to the forehead. While their death was tragic, it was nothing compared to what happened to Mara. She was gang raped by all six men. She was forced to do things that no human should be required to

do. Once she saw her children die, she checked out and paid no attention to the horrible things that happened to her. She was kept in the parking garage for over 8 hours, raped over and over again. Once the 8 hours of rapes and torture ended, the killed her slowly. The gang use the middle ages manner of death, drawn and quartered. They tied each hand and foot to the bumper of four cars in the garage. The gang got in each car, and on the count of 5, each car drove away. They drove slowly, listening to her scream. Finally, they ended her misery and all four cars accelerated pulling each limb out of the torso. Finally, she took her last breath, thinking about seeing her children again, and hoping her husband knew that she loved him. As the cars pulled away, and before her last breath, she saw a man. He was a little over 6 feet tall, 250 pounds, and colored like dark caramel. He had a shaved head and he appeared to come out of thin air. He was in black pants, black shirt, and a black ¾ length leather trench coat. He walked over to her, knelt down, and peered into eyes. He stared at her and she felt a feeling of horrible dread. The feeling had nothing to do with her quickly arriving death, it was different. She felt cold and she knew that this man would be around for a while. She knew He would not be happy until there were a lot people who went through went she just went through. She gazed at him, with laboured breathing, and asked him “why are you doing this?” He responded, in a raspy whispery voice “this was a long time coming, Mara, there was nothing you could do to stop it.” As he said that, he moved his hand to her face, and closed her eyes, and said a little prayer. So many people and historians assumed He did not care about other people. So many assumed, He would never pray because that is diametrically opposed to his beliefs. They were wrong. Although he preferred chaos, violence, and murder, he believed these were the best way strengthen humans. He wanted them in his image. He wanted them strong, confident, and powerful. This day in 1994 was the day it began. As he walked away, he met Greyling down the block. Greyling looked at him, feeling like he always did when he saw Him, scared shitless. He looked at Greyling, and said “thank you, you will have everything you want. Don’t forget me and wait for my return.” Greyling looked at him, looked at those eyes, and knew two things, he would be okay, but he wasn’t so sure about the rest of the world. Detective AMouri had no idea there was any problem with his wife and children. He didn’t own a cell phone, and his pager was only used by his job. This was in the days when you were gone, you were gone. He was finished working the scene of a weird murder in the Central

West End, when he started home. The murder he was working had odd satanic components, but it didn’t appear to be completely satanic. In fact, it looked contrived more than anything else. There was the necessary pentacle, but it wasn’t upside down. IN reality, it seemed like a set up. The one thing he would not forget was the death. The woman looked happy. She was smiling, even though she had hole in her throat. The killer, whoever he was, had stabbed her in the throat and turned the knife once it was inside of her. The result was a jagged hole about ½ inch in diameter. It was quite a sight to see. What made it so remarkable, was the serene, almost happy look on her face, like she knew she was dying for something bigger, something she truly believed in. When Amouri pulled up the house, he was getting excited about seeing his wife. He wanted to apologize for snapping earlier and he wanted to make up. He knew there was a problem, however, as the garage door went up. As it went up, his headlights pointing into the garage, there was no car, there was only emptiness. He ran inside hoping he would find somebody there, somebody who could tell him what was going on. He knew, though, that he wouldn’t see anybody. He knew the house would be silent, deathly silent, and he knew something terrible had happened. He jumped out of his car, and sprinted towards the empty garage. He yanked open the door, and ran into the laundry room. He yelled “Mara, Mara, Andrew, Anthony!!!”. Silence was the only thing that he heard in return. He ran into kitchen, down the hallway, into the family room. Everything was as it was when he left today. He flew up the stairs, two at a time, still yelling for his wife and kids, but nobody responded. He checked out his kid’s rooms, but they were empty. He ran to their room, but there was nobody there. The house was empty, and he knew something terrible had just happened. Amouri called the police station to find out if there were any reports on his family. He was immediately patched through another Detective, Billingsly. Called Bill by everybody, even though his first name was Frank, answered “Hey Amouri, we need to talk.” Amouri responded, “I know… what is going on?”. Bill said, in a very serious tone “I need you to come down to the station.” Amouri, sensing the tone, “why?? Just tell me what is going on?, fucking tell me!!!” Bill said, “Listen, this is not a conversation we need to have over the telephone. This is a conversation we will have in person. Get down here!”. Amouri, frustrated because he knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what, answered “fine, I will be there soon.”

Amouri locked the house, and went down to his car. He unlocked the door, sat in the drivers seat, put his head in his hands, and began to cry. He sobbed heavily, like he never sobbed before. This was the type of hard crying that hurts your stomach. It felt like his world was being destroyed around him. He still didn’t know what happened, but he knew it was bad, or Bill would have said something to him. He started his 85 Oldsmobile Toronado, backed out of the drive way, and made his way to the police department. He arrived at the department about 10 minutes later. He smoked a cigarette in the car, something he did very rarely. He inhaled deeply. It felt good. It helped him relax as he parked his car. He pulled into a near by parking space, turned off the engine, and finished the cigarette. He threw it on the ground, stepped on it, and walked towards his destiny. As he walked to the department door, he was still holding out hope that it was okay, that his boys were inside waiting for him, that Mara just had some car trouble, or they had been in an accident, but they were okay. Rationally, he knew this was not true, but was praying he was right. He walked in, and Bill was waiting for him. The look on Bill’s face told him everything he needed to know. Frank Billingsly was a long time police detective. He was short, about 5’7”, and weighed just under 200 pounds. He dressed like you expect a detective to dress, not well. He often wore the same suit coat many days in succession. He was balding, but he tried to cover it with what little hair he still had. He usually, shaved, but on this day, he had a couple of days of growth on his chin and cheeks. Bill, when he saw Amouri, opened the door to the back of the department. He led Amouri to one of the interview rooms, one of the few private areas in the whole place. Amouri followed, knowing what Bill was going to tell him. Bill told him “sit down, please.” Amouri say down, stared at Bill and said, “just tell me what is going on, I know it is not good.” Bill responded “it is worse than not good, it is horrible. I know what your family meant to you because mine means the same to me, that is why I am talking to you now. Anthony, Andrew, and Mara all dead. We don’t know exactly what happened, but we are developing leads as we speak.” Amouri looked at Bill and said “tell me what happened.” Bill knew this instruction was coming. He knew Amouri and he knew he would want to know everything that happened. The problem was that he knew Amouri was not even considering the horrible things that happened to his family. Bill did not know if he should tell

Amouri the truth, but as he looked in Amouri’s eyes, he knew he owed it to his friend to tell him what happened. Bill began “it looks like they got diverted the crowds at about 4:30 PM. We know they were walking to their car, which we found by the criminal courts building. We found them in the Marriot parking garage, a garage that is not used by the general public. We assume they were taken by a large group of people because we know that four vehicles were involved.” AMouri interrupted, “how do you know four cars were used?” Bill, looked at Amouri, and said “just hear me out, we will get to that. Anyway, it looks like Andrew and Anthony were killed right away. They were shot once in the forehead. They certainly wouldn’t have had any money, based on the shells, and what people heard, we think they were killed right away. Mara, however, lived for another 8 hours or so. This we know from the coroner’s initial examination. The time of death is about 12:00 or so. Mara was raped, and it looks like she was raped repeatedly, by more than one man. She was tortured, sexually and physically. We assume she completely checked out once her sons were killed. “Sometime around midnight, they eventually killed her. Do you want to know how they killed her?” Amouri, after listening to all of that, still said “yes, I do.”. Bill looked at his friend, wondering how he would react if the shoe was on the other foot. When it came down to it, he knew he would want to know to. He kept looking at Amouri and said “essentially, they drew and quartered her. They tied a limb, with a chain, to the bumper of four cars. After some additional torture, the four cars accelerated in different directions. She was torn apart.” Amouri, ever the detective, asked, “are there any leads, did anybody see anything. Is there any physical evidence, fingerprints, hairs, fibers, anything that will help.” Bill responded, like a cop to a cop, “not too much. They did talk to everybody they could. There is no real description. What most are saying is they remember about six to eight black males, between fifteen and twenty eight, hanging around that garage. The only good description we have received is of another guy who was near by. This guy was a little over six feet tall, light brown skin, black eyes, shaved head, wearing black pants, black shirt, and a black leather trench coat.” Amouri asked “anything else about this guy? Was he involved or just somebody interested in what might be going on.” Bill continued “one witness saw this man talking to one of the other black males after midnight. This guy was intoxicated because he had gone out after the game. He told us he had four or five drinks, which as you know, means he had eight or ten. Either way, he was walking

home and he saw four cars tear out of the garage, each with a chain attached to the back bumper. He thought it was odd, but, remember he was three sheets to the wind. Anyway, after about 10 minutes, the guy I described before walked slowly out of the garage. He looked around, and our witness ducked near the wall. That probably the smartest thing he did. Anyway, he saw this guy walk across the street and start talking to one of the kids. The kid he talked to was probably about 18, and most likely the leader of this group. They talked for about 5 minutes. He was able to provide a description of the 18 year old. He said he was short, probably only five feet four inches or so. He probably weighed no more than one hundred fifty pounds. He had very dark skin and a flat top hair cut. Anyway, they talked for about 5 minutes. Our witness didn’t hear one word, and he wasn’t going to try and listen. After the five minutes, the 18 year old, jumped in a car and drove away. The other guy, the one in all black, walked west one block, turned left, and was gone.” Amouri knew right then and there, that he would not rest until he found that man in all black. Amouri was done thinking about that horrible night, a night he would never, and had never forgotten. The feelings he had on that day remained with him and he thought they would never leave. For 15 years, he had hoped to find a lead on this person who was likely involved, if not the mastermind, of the attack on his family. And over the last 15 years he had absolutely no luck. It was like the guy had simply disappeared. He was fairly sure he had an idea who the others were. He had no evidence and he hadn’t shared his thoughts with anybody, but he thought they were from McCree. In the end, he really only cared about the man in black. That is why he was so interested in John. For years he had searched for somebody who might know something. He had his theories as to what might have happened, but he had no evidence, witnesses, or documents. John, though, was the first person who might actually be able to provide some information. He found out about John from other police officers. He was walking in to the department about 3 months ago and some uniform officers were laughing. Amouri walked up and asked “what is so freaking funny?” Officer Robertson answered “we just talked to this guy who claims he has visions, he said he saw the death of a woman, and right after he saw a man in all black.” Amouri, breathless with what he heard, said “are you kidding me? Is the woman he saw already dead or going to be dead? Did he provide any other description of the man?” The second cop, a

short, blonde cop asked “are you fucking kidding me, are you taking this seriously?? This dude John is a freaking lunatic!! He has come in about 10 times, each time with a different story, a different murder, something else ridiculous.” Amouri looked at him, wondering how long he would make it as a cop, and said “shut the fuck up! You don’t know shit, and my guess is, you will never know shit! You never know when somebody’s crazy talk is actually something that would help a case. Did you know we are looking for 5 serial killers right now. What if I told you that women have been killed all over this city, so, frankly, we will take any god damn leads we can find!! What the fuck is John’s number?” The first cop gave him the number and Amouri went on his way. He called John later in the day and began asking him questions. They met a couple of times before they had a serious conversation about what John could tell him and what he had seen. When he first met John, he was skeptical too about whether he could really see what he said he could see. It only took a couple of meetings, however, to know that John was telling the truth. Amouri began believing John when John called him 2 months before. John told him that he had a vision about an Indian women was going to be killed. He told Amouri that the woman would be disembowled, her intestines were pulled out and tied around her own thigh. He told Amouri that she was probably in her mid 20s and lived off of Washington Avenue. He had no information about the person who killed her, other than that it was somebody who the police would never suspect. A mere 3 days later, an Indian woman was killed just like John said. She was strung up like the other victims, each limb tied to a fixture so she was hanging with her arms and legs spread out around her. Her intestines had been removed violently from her body, and they were tied around her upper thigh. It was an unbelieveable sight and Amouri now believed in John. He had been absolutely right. John had many more visions and they always were correct. He would see victims before their deaths, if he saw somebody after their death, he would get a vague vision of the killer. Although he did not know who the killer was, he knew that he was somebody regular, somebody the police would never suspect.

Finally, about 3 weeks ago, John was talking to Amouri about another vision. As John was telling Amouri about the visions, he mentioned the man in black. This was the first time he mentioned him before and Amouri became immediately interested in what Gersmeyer had to say. John told him that in his vision, a 32 year old man was already dead. He had been shot in the head once, after being shot in the groin and both knee caps before he had eventually been killed. John, though he did not see the killer, he did see the man in black. This vision was frightening to John. The man “saw” him. It felt like he was being watched by the Man. It felt like He was right around every corner, like he was under the bed, in every closet, or going to jump out from behind every corner. It was scary, and he didn’t know why, but he wanted to find this guy too. He felt like, though, it was his job to find this guy. Although John always had visions. From the time he was a little kid, he could “see” things that others couldn’t. Sometimes he saw things that already happened, sometimes he saw things that were going to happen. The constant, for his entire life, was the man in black. He never spoke, he only peered at John, making him feel uncomfortable, making him feel like something bad was going to happen. Nothing bad ever happened to John. His family was healthy, he was successful, he had everything that people wanted. He also, had successfully avoided some things that could have been horrible. When he was 12 years old, he fell through ice on a lake. By the grace of God, there was a vine hanging into the water. Once he fell, he was remarkably calm. He looked up, saw a bright light, and noticed the vine. He grabbed the vine, and with a strength that he didn’t know he had, he pulled himself up and out of the frozen lake. When he was fifteen, he was riding his bike to the mall and a car pulled around a corner. Before it even came around the corner, John knew it was there. At the last minute, he swerved. He was hit, but he wasn’t hit head on. He still flipped over his handlebars, but instead of landing on a car that was going way too fast, he landed on a bush on the side of the road. He wasn’t hurt at all. When he was eighteen, and in college, he went rock climbing with some friends. They were drinking and having a good time. After drinking a little more, four of them decided to climb a near by cliff. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The four of them were about 50 feet off the ground and getting her the top. They also were getting very tired. First, his friend Will, slipped. The rocks slipped underneath his shoes and he started slipping. As he was falling, and it felt like slow motion to John, Will reached his hand up and grabbed Peter. Peter was already barely

hanging on to the cliff. When he felt Will’s hand on his ankle, he slipped too. As both of them fell, Peter reached for Joe, who slipped too. All three of them began falling 50 feet to their certain death. As Joe fell, his hand grabbed at the only solid thing on the cliff, John. He grabbed John’s waist and he began falling too. As they fell, all four were screaming. John could see his life flash before his eyes. It felt like slow motion as he watched the three below him. Peter’s head hit the cliff and eyes rolled back in his head. Joe and Will were falling, faster and faster. John was sure that he was going to die, that this was it. There was nothing but rocks under them, and there was no way he was going to survive a fifty feet ball onto those. As he fell, he saw a bright light and he felt remarkably calm. It was surreal, similar to the incident in the lake, with the car, and now on the cliff. The light was guiding him and this time he knew it. He looked at the light and saw a tree branch. He reached out for it. He felt his hands grab it, but it slipped from his hands. As he hit the tree, though, another force (that is the only way he could describe it), seemed to move him through the air. As he fell, he saw another branch, an evergreen that he ddin’t notice as he went up the cliff. He reached out, and this time, the branch stuck. It slowed him down and it forced him further into the tree. As he hit the various branches, his descent slowed. Eventually, he hit the ground, but instead of rocks, it was the soft pine needles underneath the tree. He tried to take count of his injuries, but there were none. He might have been bruised. His hands hurt, but otherwise, he was absolutely okay. He had no doubt, however, that his friends were dead. He gingerly stood up, and walked to the base of the cliff. There he saw Will, Peter, and Joe laying on the rocks. Their bodies broken, their eyes lifeless. He could not understand why he survived. In his past, these events happened only to him. Now he felt like his friends had been sacrificed. This was not easy for him to deal with and it was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He walked towards his other friends who had no idea what had just happened. For years after, he struggled with what happened and why he did not die. What was it about him that was special. Why did he get out of the lake. Why did he swerve and miss that car? Why did end up in an evergreen, falling to the soft pine needles on the ground. There were no good answers, he knew that, but he knew he had to live his life to the best of his ability.

Over the summer of 2008, John, who had continually tried to get into the police department to talk to somebody was finally heard. He was in the front of the department for a while, when a detective over heard his conversation with some uniform officers. The detective, who John had never met, told the uniformed officers to stop teasing him. He said to John, “what do you want to talk about? Can I help you?” John responded “I would like to talk to somebody about a lot. I think you might want to hear what I have to say.” Over time, they forged a friendship. The detective, Amouri, believed him and wanted to know what John had to see. He would follow up with what John told him. Sometimes, it panned out, other times, they were too late. They never saved a life, but they were getting closer to finding out who was committing these horrific crimes throughout the St. Louis area. Detective Amouri was particularly concerned with his visions of the man in black. This man had appeared in John’s visions for years. He never knew how he was important, what he did, or who he was, but he was scared of him, and scared of for the entire human race. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew he had to keep his head on straight because he felt like he could do some good. On day in December, John and Amouri were having dinner at Flannery’s, a local bar on Washington Avenue. Amouri was quizzing him about his most recent vision and what it showed John. John told him “the vision started harmless enough, it was a happy mother of 2 at the park with her children. The park looked like it was in the suburbs, but I have no idea exactly where. Next, I see the man again. He is looking menacingly at the woman, but saying nothing. At one point, he looked at me. I wasn’t there but as I watch these visions, it is like I am looking through a camera and he looked right at the camera. “Next, a man comes out of the shadows. He is regular in every way. He is white, mid thirties, clean shaven, and wearing dress pants and a blue button down shirt. He is average height, probably five feet eight inches, neither fat nor skinny. He sneaks up behind the woman and puts a rag over her face. She struggles briefly, but eventually succumbs to what is likely chloroform. After her body is limp, the man picks her up, throws her over his shoulder, and carries her into the nearby woods. I have no idea what happned to the children. They only appeared at the beginning of the vision. Once the man in black appeared, the children were no longer visible. I don’t know exactly what happens to the woman, but I could hear her screams from the woods.”

Amouri asked, “is there anything identifiable about her? Anything at all?” John answered, “the only thing that might help is her shirt had a name tag, it said J. Govan”. Amouri jumped up and called in to a source at the police department. “I need to find every person in St. Louis with the first initial J and last name Govan, G-O-V-A-N. no matter how many pop up in results, I need to see every one of them, thanks!!” He knew that if he could find this person, he might be able to save the first life. He wanted to solve these crimes, but he was beginning to think that might not be possible. Bryan was walked out of the stairwell, wondering what he was going to get into tonight. He decided to catch a cab and take it out to WestPort Plaza. There were some good bars out there, and he was in the mood to get into a little trouble. He walked down Washington, until he saw a taxi. He stopped, stuck out his hand, and it stopped in front of him. He was dressed in his regular clothes, jeans, black casual shoes, and a collared shirt. He looked like he always did, regular. He didn’t feel regular though, he felt like he could do what ever he wanted to do and it felt good. As the cab stopped, another guy tried to jump in and steal it. Bryan, for the first time in a while, became enraged. The guy, probably about 25, wearing jeans, white tennis shoes, and a striped button down shirt. He had the blonde spikey hair of what Bryan often referred to as a douche bag. As the guy pulled open the back door, Bryan looked at him and yelled “what the fuck do you think you are doing?” “Are you talking to me, mother fucker”, the 25 year old responded. “I am, douche, what the fuck are you doing?! I would strongly suggest you walk away quietly before this gets very bad for you very quickly!” “Fuck you” and the 25 year old took a quick step towards Bryan. Bryan saw what was coming. Something he had noticed recently, was an ability to predict what people were going to do. He couldn’t predict days in advance, he could only feel what their next physical action was going to be. In this instant, he knew that the 25 year old douche was going to ball up his fist, and take a swing at him. Bryan stepped to his right, and leaned back. As the punch came, he grabbed the 25 year old’s wrist as it missed his face by 2 inches. Bryan pulled his wrist down and to the left. He used

the 25 year old’s momentum to pull him into the nearby street lamp. As the 25 year old’s face hit the street lamp post, blood spurted out of his nose and mouth. Bryan yanked the 25 year old back up, pulled his wrist up into Bryan’s knee. The wrist broke immediately. As the 25 year old fell to the ground, holding his wrist and his face, Bryan looked at him, staring and said “I told you to fucking walk away, but you just couldn’t do it, could you. Next time somebody tells you to walk the fuck away, you walk the fuck away!” All of this took about 40 seconds. He opened the taxi door, sat in the back seat, and told the driver “take me to Westport Plaza.” The driver, not interested in doing anything to this insane man, started on the way to Westport Plaza. About 30 minutes later, the Bryan was standing in Westport Plaza watching the Taxi pull away. He hadn’t been out there in quite a while, but he figured it couldn’t be that hard to find something to do. He looked around and saw a couple of places that he could go. He surveyed the various crowds, and found one that suited his needs. He needed a bar, preferably, with older woman. They generally were a little easier to convince to leave the bar. They believed they were more in control of their situations. In addition, younger women always traveled in packs. It was much easier if he could find a single woman looking for a little fun. He walked into Patrick’s Café. It was a decent restaurant with a very good Sunday Brunch. AT night, however, it was a bar with a little nightclub feel. It was known to be a hang out of older divorced women, looking to have a good time. He knew that was the place for him. As he walked up, he could hear the pulsing music coming from Patrick’s. As he got closer, he could hear “Beat It” coming from the bar. He opened the door, flashed his ID to the door man, and walked up to the bar. The music was loud, but that never bothered him. He walked up the bar and got the attention of the bartender. The bartender, a younger, blonde women with a tight black shirt on, sauntered up to Bryan. “What can I get for you?” she said with a nice smile. “Captain and Coke in a tall glass.” “not a problem” and she walked away, moving her hips, probably purposefully for Bryan’s benefit. He laughed to himself, and waited for his drink.

While waiting, he began scanning the room to see who was here and who he might want to talk to. A couple of minutes later, the bartender returned with his drink. He threw a $10 bill on the bar and told her to keep it. She smiled, said “thanks, let me know if you need anything else…” He knew what she meant, but she was not what he was looking for this night. Another night, he would certainly be interested, but tonight was special. He turned again to look at the crowd. As he surveyed the crowd, he noticed an woman in her late 30s, standing by herself by the front window. She was probably about 5’9”, medium build. She had brown eyes, and brown hair that fell to the middle of her back. She had an average body, not fat in the least, but not a classic hour glass figure. She had average size breasts, and a butt that was slightly larger than normal. She did have, however, a beautiful face. Her face was round, with very soft features. Her features worked very well together. She felt somebody looking at her, and she looked up. Then, she saw Bryan looking at her, which is exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to know that he was interested in talking to her. When she looked up, she smiled, and returned to looking blindly into the crows. Bryan pushed him self from the bar, and began working his way through the falf crowded dance floor. As he walked through, he tried to blend in because he did not want to be remembered later. He walked up to this woman, smiled and said “I’m Bryan, how are you tonight?” “I am okay” “do you need another drink?” just then the waitress walked by. She responded “yes, I think I would like one, sapphire and tonic?” Bryan got the waitresses attention, and leaned in so she could hear him and said “could you get this beautiful lady a sapphire and tonic?” The waitress nodded and walked away. The woman, hearing what he said, smiled again and said “I am Donna and I think I am happy you walked over.” He smiled to himself, knowing this was already a done deal. “I am happy I walked over, what are you doing over here all by yourself?” “I am not by myself any more, am I?” He leaned in, and put his hand on her lower back and whispered in her ear “no, you are not”. At that moment, the waitress walked up with her sapphire and tonic. He took it and gave the waitress $10.00.and told her to keep it.

He handed the drink to Donna, leaned in again, and said “I hope you enjoy”. At that moment, Ghetto Superstar began playing. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her on to the dance floor. She said “no, I don’t dance, oh what the hell.” They ended up in the middle of the dance floor moving to the music. He was right next to her, his hands on he lower back. At first, she kept her hands away from him, but after a couple of minutes, she had her hands on his back, working her fingers underneath his shirt, rubbing his back. They stayed on the dance floor for another 4 or 5 songs. During each song, they moved closer and closer. During each song, her hands became more and more frisky, moving over his body. After the 5th song, she whispered “let’s get out of here, I have a room at the Sheraton.” He nodded and they walked out of the bar together. They walked hand in hand towards the Sheraton West Port. They walked in the lobby and headed for the elevator. Once they got on the elevator, her hands were all over him. She leaned into him and gave him a long, passionate kiss. During the kiss, her hands ended up on his belt, trying to get it one done. His hands were cupping her ass, and pulling as close together as they could stand. He had not yet slept with the person that he was going to kill. His rules, only for himself, had been the same, no connection to the victim. He had broken that rule and he needed to figure out what he was going to do. He knew that people in the bar had seen Donna with him. He also knew the lobby worker at the Sheratona had seen them come in and head to the elevator. He had real problems if he intended to kill her. He supposed he could just sleep with her, leave later that night or early in the morning, and look for somebody else. As he hands slipped in his pants, he knew that was going to be the the result. He also knew, He would be mad and he might have to kill 2 in 2 days to make this right. Once the elevator stopped, the doors opened, and he began walking with Donna to her room. He knew they would have a wonderful time as he watched her ass as she walked to her room. She removed the key from her purse, and slipped it in the door. He walked right behind her and felt her ass on his pants. It felt good. She turned, smiled, wiggled her ass, and said, “we are going to have fun!”

The next morning, he rolled over as the sun was coming up. He looked on the bed, and saw Donna, naked under the covers, laying in a very provocative position. Her back was to him, and she was curled in a ball, with her ass pressed against the outside of his thigh. He was thinking about starting something, when she woke up. She rolled over on to her back and saw him looking at her. She smiled, asked if he wanted another round, and slid her hands under the sheets. He knew he had made a mistake. He was supposed to go out and kill somebody. Instead, he met a woman, slept with her, and she was still alive the next day. He was going to be extremely angry with him, but what was done was done. He had never betrayed Him before, and he had not intended to, but he assumed he didn’t like excuses. He knew he needed to rectify this problem immediately, but not in this room After they had sex one more time, he got dressed, and told Donna he needed to get going. He took her number, however, and told her he was going to call. He actually intended on calling because he did like her, and certainly liked fucking her. As he got dressed, he could feel her eyes looking at him, and it felt good. Once he was dressed, he leaned down, kissed Donna on the mouth, and told her he would talk to her later, and walked out of the hotel. He walked back down to West Port Plaza and wondered where he was going to find somebody. He walked to the St. Louis Bread Company and got himself a cup of coffee. As he was sitting there, it felt like he was the luckiest guy in the world. Not only could he do what he wanted, he had a beautiful woman in a hotel room who wanted him to return. Also, a beautiful woman sat down at the table next to Bryan. As she sat down, she noticed him sitting there and she smiled at him. He knew he had another one. He began talking to her by saying “it is a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” “yes it is, I can’t believe it. I love coming her when the weather is so nice.” “I agree completely. My name is Bryan. It is nice to meet you.” “Meghan…what are you doing out so early, Bryan?” “just getting a cup of coffee, you?” “I always come her on Thursday mornings, just to get away.” He noticed the ring on her finger, but he was not worried. She obviously wanted to talk. He asked “do you mind if I sit over there with you?” “not at all”, she responded.

He sat down in the chair at her table. She was dressed nicely. She was wearing a loose summer dress with an orange floral print. It was cut rather low, her large breasts bulging out of her dress. The dress was down to her middle thighs. She had on heels. He legs were long, shaved, and tan. As he sat down, he noticed that he was wrong about her average body. She was not average, she was beautiful. She wore glasses and had hair that dropped down to her shoulders. He knew this would be fun. As he sat down, he began talking to her. He did not have much time because Donna was waiting in his hotel room, and he wanted to get back to her. As they talked about a lot of nothing, he began wondering how he was going to get this done. And then it happened, she did something and he knew it would be okay. As they were sitting there, having a nice conversation, he felt something on his lower leg. He glanced under the table and it was the woman, her foot out of her shoe, moving her foot up her leg. He smiled to himself, and knew this was a done deal. He moved his chair closer to her, and put his hand on her leg. He squeezed gently and asked if she wanted to get out of there. She smiled, and and said “yes, lets get out of her.” They got up, and began walking towards the parking garage. AS they walked in, she took her hand and put in on the front of his pants. She started to massage him and he responded accordingly. As they got further into the garage he spun her around and kissed her. By now, his hands were working had pulled her underwear off. Her skirt was hiked up so her ass and was exposed. She started to take off his belt, when he whispered into her ear “stop for a second, there is something I want to do to you…” she smiled and jumped on the trunk of her car. He started kissing her legs and moving towards up towards her waist. Just as she was begging for him to keep going, he began pulling the Bowie knife from his belt. She did not see him pull it out because of her position. As he pulled it out, he began tickling her. At the moment she was begging him to make her feel wonderful, he took the knife, and slowly plunged it into her stomach. AT the moment it penetrated her skin, he stood up, and grabbed her by the throat. She tried to scream, but her voice was swallowed by his hands. As he moved the knife in her stomach, he could see the absolute terror in her eyes. He removed the knife, and plunged it

in again. This time, he stabbed her in the upper chest, right through her diaphragm. He knew she couldn’t breathe as she struggled for breath. She knew she was going to die. As she fought for oxygen, he looked at her once more, smiled, and stabbed her through the heart. She died right then. He had to work quickly because he was in a public place. He quickly removed her dress and shoes. He admired her body one more time. He tied a rope to each limb and strung her up in the parking garage. He quickly cleaned up, changed in to the clothes he had brought with him, left his clothes on the parking garage floor, and walked slowly out of the garage. As he walked out, he noticed, for the first time when doing one of these, a possible witness. There was a younger, latino man, watching him leave. He was worried the man saw something, but there was nothing he could do. The man was probably in his early twenties, and dressed in a brown jump suit. He looked like a maintenance man. He knew he didn’t have much time, but he had to get out of there. As he walked out, Bryan hurredly walked to the hotel. While on the way, he saw Him. He was dressed in all black, and he looked unhappy. Bryan could tell He wanted to talk, but where? He looked at Bryan once again, and whispered “tomorrow, 3:00 PM, forest park at the fountain. I will take care of your other problem, get out of here.” Bryan nodded, and walked quickly to the hotel room. He knocked on the door and Donna answered. She had no idea what he had done, or quite frankly how close she became to being that victim. He liked her, and he didn’t understand why. He still was seeing that other girl, but she was just something to do. Donna was different. As she opened the door, her beauty stunned him again. She was dressed in one of his tee shirts and that was all. Her long, tanned, toned legs looked phenomal. The dress hung just over her well formed ass and he knew what he was going to do. He walked in, pulled the shirt up, and began kissing her. After they were done, he told her “I need you to get dressed and go on home. Here is my phone number, give me a call soon.” “why? Can’t we get something to eat, hang out, or something??” “not right now, I have to go to the office for a while. I promise we will get together again, very soon, but I need to get going.”

“that’s cool. For some reason, I have a real pull to you.” “I know, because I havce the same pull to you. It is like another force is making this happen, but I am not complaining” “neither am I, I just want to see you again.” “you will, I promise.” She got dressed, and walked out of the hotel room. He hoped he would see her again, but he knew there was no guarantee that would happen. He was very worried about the latino man who saw him in the garage. He couldn’t go to jail, he knew that. He trusted Him. He said that he would take care of the problem, but it still bothered him. It only took one mistake to end up being arrested. He had recently read a story about a man in Fargo who had been killing women for a long time. This man, George Roberts, had also been stringing them up, in a similar fashion as Bryan had. He was stabbing women, shooting them, and killing them in any way he could. He had caused a humongous amount of terror in Fargo, as people scared to go out side, scared to do anything because a maniac had been on the loose. Recently, he had entered a woman’s house with the intent of killing her. It was time, he felt it. George had been a normal guy, working as a computer sales men. About 2 years before, he had met Him. George did not know why he was recruited, but he had been, and it felt good. Immediately after meeting Him, he became very good at his job. He became making computer sales like never before. Woman became attracted to him. He could walk into any bar, and find a woman who would want to spend the night with him. He, essentially, had everything that he could want. Something else happened after meeting Him, he had an uncontrollable urge to hurt people. Specifically, woman. The first time was unnerving even to him, because of the violence, and rage that he felt. It was unbelievable. When it was over, however, it felt good. He knew that he had found his calling. On this particular day, he was sneaking into a woman’s house so he could kill his 50th victim. He killed frequently and he never left a clue or evidence as to his identity. As he snuck in, however, an electric company employee, on the other side of the street and about a block down, saw George sneaking in. He got in, and he did kill this woman. As he was trying to get out of the house, however, he could hear the sirens.

He tried to get out of the house as quickly as he could. He jumped out of the window, and heard “freeze mother fucker!” He was caught, and he knew it. He always figured he would rather die than get caught, but surprisingly, he felt absolutely calm. He knew it would be okay. He knelt down, and put his hands on the top of his head and waited for the police. The police man walked up, roughly grabbed George’s hands and handcuffed him behind the back. As the other police arrived, they entered the house. He knew what they would fine, and he looked forward to hearing their reaction. As the uniform officer went inside, he slowly opened the front door. The first thing he saw was a nicely furnished home. It was obvious that only a woman lived there. There was nothing there that would lead anybody to believe this woman was anything but single. Nothing was disturbed on the ground floor, so he began walking upstairs. As he walked upstairs, it was eerily silent. He knew that what he was about to see, but he didn’t know it would stick with him for so long. He kept walking and got to the top of the stair case. He walked down a short hallway until he found what he figured to be the master bedroom. He slowly opened the door. AS he opened it, he immediately threw up. It was an unbelievable scene, but he could not look away. A woman was nailed to the wall. He intestines were pulled out of her abdomen and wrapped around her left thigh. Her throat was sliced open. There was blood on everything, the ceiling, the walls, and soaking the bed. On one wall, however, there were letters written in the victim’s blood. On the wall, there was a simple message “YOU CAN NOT STOP US!” The officer, who knew he probably shouldn’t be up there anyway, went back downstairs. He grabbed a detective and said, you really need to go up stairs and see this. The detective went up, and knew that this was going to be a completely different type of case. George Roberts was put in the back of a police car and taken down to the Fargo, North Dakota police station. They took him inside, photographed him, finger printed him, and took down his relevant information. The police removed his clothes, and searched him completely. They then gave him jail issued oranges, a jump suit that all in mates were required to wear. They put him in a cell separate from everybody else. The police had no idea what they had, but they knew it was pretty bad and they did not want him mingling with other inmates.

AS they took him to his cell, George Roberts was smiling. He was not smiling because he felt good about being caught, he was smiling because he knew that He would get him out of this. George knew they could not contain him. He understood that this would not end well, and he did not care. George did not understand everything that was going on, but he was fairly certain there were others like him in Fargo. All crime ahd increased over the past two years. Some of the crimes were drug related, others, like arsons, assaults, robberies, and murders seemed to increase for reasons that nobody could fully understand. He certainly didn’t, but he did know that something great was going to happen. He couldn’t wait. George Roberts’ arrest made Bryan nervous. He knew there was a witness, and even though He said he would take care of it, He didn’t take care of George Roberts. Little did Bryan know that He was helping George Roberts, more than anybody knew. There had been others in other parts of the country who had been arrested, but everything kept on rolling. This was something that could not be stopped. Bryan did not know that, but He did. And He was happy, this was going as well as it could. Jose Lamanoco could not believe what he saw. First, he saw the white guy jogging nervously out of the garage. He didn’t understand. He had seen him walking in about ten minutes before with a very good looking woman. He knew better than to walk into the garage while they were in the garage. Jose knew what was going on, and he had no problems with that. But then, the white guy came out. He was sweating, and looking around like he did something wrong. He also notice stains on his shirt. Dark stains. Because of the darkness in the garage, he could not see what color the stain was, but he knew it was dark. After the man left, he sat in his office, wondering what he should do. After a few more minutes, he decided to walk into the garage and see what might be going on. He stepped out of his small office, looked to his left and right and did not see anybody. He was worried, even scared, but he had to go and see if the woman needed help. It just seemed like the right thing to do. As he walked out of his office, he stepped down to the walk way, and started up to where he thought the woman’s car might be. As he walked, he did not hear the foot steps behind him.

Jose walked slowly, trudging up the stairs to the next level. As he walked, he was startled as he heard something behind him. He stopped, and slowly turned around. There was nobody there. All of a sudden, it was very quiet and it was unnerving. He felt a strange chill in the air and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Jose knew this was not good. He was a very religious man so he grabbed the cross he always wore around his neck and said a quick “Hail Mary”. He was sweating, and gittery, and very scared. He turned back around to continue up the stairs to the second level. As he turned he saw a shadow, and then, there was a man in front of him. The man was tall, much taller than Jose. He was big, in a solid muscular way. He was wearing black pants, black shoes, a black tee-shirt, and a black trench coat. He had a shaved head, no facial hair, and eyes Jose would never forget. The eyes were peering at Jose, and Jose felt like they were seeing right in to his soul. He was still holding the cross, rubbing it, praying silently to himself. Subconsiously, he put his right hand in his pocket to grab his rosary beads. Beads his grandmother had given him during his confirmation some 35 years before. For some reason, he felt like he needed religious objects with him right now. The Man stared at him and said “those are not going to help you now. Do you know who I am?” “the Devil?” “No, that is not who I am. I am often confused for him, but he is much uglier than I am. I am Lucifer and I am going to take over. I have recruited people in every city, both men and women, to assist me. Right now, as they have been for months, they are wreaking havoc in every city in the world. In some cities, they are killing innocent people, in others, they are dealing humongous amounts of methamphetamine and crack cocaine, in others, they are ethnically clensing the people, in others they are starting wars and revolutions. Chaos is beginning to take hold, it is taking over, and there is nothing anybody can do about it. “it is truly unbelievable, but I am going to win. Once chaos is every where, and trust me, we are close, then that is when the real fun begins. My people have already infiltrated the highest levels of the major world governments. At some point, when I instruct, those people will begin a nuclear holocaust, the humans will kill themselves. There may be some left, but in the end, I will win. I will control everything, there will be no heavan, and there will be no hell, because there will be is this. What I create. God had his time, he did the best he could, but, it is no my time, and there is no way to stop it. Your artifacts will not help you now. That cross means nothing to me. The rosary beads have no affect on me. I will even say the prayer with you:

“Our father, who art in heavan, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdome come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, amen. Would you like to say another?? How about, Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee, blessed art thou among woman, and blessed is the fruit of your womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, amen. Per haps you would like another : Glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and always will be…” “it does not matter, Jose, what prayer you say. They mean nothing to me, they do not affect me, I said them with you, I will say them with you, I will always be with you. You worship a God who you believe will help you, but he does not. He is not. You are praying, and have been praying since you saw Bryan walk out of the garage. You have received no help, and now you need it more than ever. I only told you all of this because I am going to kill you. “you only have two choices, you can join me, pledge your allegiance, or die. It makes no difference to me. The end is coming, and there is nothing you or anybody can do about it. I am giving you a chance to decide how you would like to proceed?” Jose was shaking and sweating. He knew that he was not going to survive this. He knew that he was a dead man and it didn’t matter. He did believe in God and he believed that He would stop this man’s plans. He did not know if he was really Lucifer, the devil, Satan, or some other deity, but he knew he was a dead man. Jose answered “I will not join you because I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, the only-begotten, born of the Father before all ages. Light from light, true God of true God, begotten, not made, of one substance with the Father, through whom all things were made. Who for us men and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate from the Holy Spirit and Mary the Virgin, and became man. He was also crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered and was buried. And He rose again on the third day, according to the scriptures. And He ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father. And He will come again with glory, to judge the living and the dead, and of His kingdom there will be no end. And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, and Giver of life, who proceeds from the Father, who together with the Father and the Son is worshipped and glorified, Who spoke through the prophets. In one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. I profess one baptism for the remission of sins. I expect the resurrection of the dead; and the life of the world to come. Amen.”

As Jose said amen, He started laughing. “The Apostles Creed??” that is fantastic. I haven’t heard that for ages, and I mean ages. Unfortunately, you have made your bed, and now you must sleep in it.” With that, He pulled a Bowie Knife from his belt. Before Jose could even react, He had plunged it directly into Jose’s heart. Jose died instantly, thinking about his Lord, his family, and future of man kind. He had accepted his death earlier, in fact, he had a feeling he would die when the day started, and he was okay. As the knife hit his heart, Jose saw his life flash before his eyes. He saw his childhood in Mexico, he saw his mother and father, he saw his wife and children, and it was peaceful. He next saw a bright light, similar to a train on the train tracks. He could hear beautiful music, and he heard a voice calling him forward. He knew it was the Lord and he was okay with that. He wanted to go to him, he wanted to walk towards the light. And he did. Sitting at his desk, Detective Amouri was sitting with John trying to figure out what to do next. John looked at Amouri and told him, I am seeing something. IT is a parking garage, there are two dead people. One is a woman, hanging in a parking garage, like the rest of them. The other is a mexican man, holding a cross and rosary beads. I also see the Man, he is standing over the mexican man, holding a knife. The scene is pulling back, IT IS AT WESTPORT PLAZA!!!” Amouri yelled “are you sure?? If so, let’s get the fuck out of here!” John and Amouri jumped out of their chairs. They ran to Amouri’s car, an unmarked, lincoln town car. As they headed towards the highway, Amouri asked “how do you know it is West Port Plaza?” “because as the scene pulled away, I could see fee fee road. I know the garage, it is under the sports bar, near the Sheraton. I used to hang out there a lot.” Amouri did not argue. This was the best break they ever had. As the drove out highway 40, all he could think of was maybe he would find the people who killed his family. He wanted this guy so badly, he could taste it. They passed McCausland, Big Bend, Laclede Station, Hanley and exited at 170. There was really no good way to get out to west Port, but he was going to get there as soon as he could. They drove north on 170 and exited at Page and moved west bound. As the drove 40 miles per hour west on Page, he couldn’t get that there soon enough. He was so excited he could not stand it. Finally, they can see West Port Plaza. They pulled in to West Port and parked on a surface lot. As they jumped out their car, and out of their site, the Man was walking out of the

garage. Amouri and John could not see him, but he knew they were coming. He was waiting for the appropriate time to kill him. Despite what he said to Jose, there might be somebody who could stop his plans. He was worried about John. He would not under estimate God again. He had done that in previous attempts, but not this time. That is why he needed to kill John. John could see things, including him. He needed him to go away. He also needed to do something about this Amouri. He was getting close to a couple of his people, and he needed that to stop. He would get them both, it would take planning, but he would take care of them, and there would be nothing to stop him. Amouri and John ran towards the garage. As they got closer, Amouri told John to get behind him. They did not know how late they were, or even if they were late. They only knew that, whether it already happened, or if it was going to happen, a woman was likely dead, and another man may have been killed also. It was not going to be pretty. Amouri walked ahead, his gun out, slowly towards the steps. John was behind him, sweating, and suddenly very nervous about being there. He had a very bad feeling, but he couldn’t place why. He sensed something, something evil, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Amouri kept walking up the stairs. The stair well went up a landing, and then turned back around as it continued up. As Amouri stepped on the landing, he began to turn around. He slowly turned with his gun in front of him, aiming into the darkness. AS he turned, he saw something, something he would never forget. In front of him, there was a man, he looked Hispanic, sliced open from the top of his chest down to his groin. His stomach was peeled back making his insides visible to Amouri. Amouri could see the look of peace in the man’s eyes. The man was holding his cross, but somebody had turned it up side down. The man obviously had died a horrible death, a death that was unthinkable to most people, but he had suffered. He pulled out a flashlight so he could see more clearly. It was then he saw it. He saw something that had haunted him for the past fifteen years, and he knew it would keep haunting him. This is what motivated him, and would continue to motivate him until it was finally over. On the wall of the stairwell was a simple message “your wife cried less than Jose.” Underneath the message, was a picture of his sons, taken almost thirty years ago, that she carried in her wallet. He knew it was missing, but he didn’t think he would ever see it again. This

was all the proof he needed, he now knew the Man he was looking for had done this too. This Man needed to be stopped and Amouri was going to do it. John walked up the stairs behind Amouri and saw the man. John immediately became very queasy, but he was able to control himself. It was then, though, he saw the message on the wall. He was about to ask “who is that for?” but before he could finish his thought, Amouri said “me. It is for me. My wife was killed fifteen years ago by a group of men. The only who was seen by anybody, was our Guy. The man in black. I want to find this guy more than anything. He not only killed my wife, he killed my children, and in reality, he killed me. I Have been dead since that day. Since that day, I have only thought about him. I have only thought about killing him with my bare hands. I have one goal, and that is stopping him. I know he is involved with all of this violence, drugs, rapes, and murders happening, not only here, but every where. I must stop him, and I will stop him.” “I will help you as much as I can. I promise you that. I will make sure that we do everything we can do to make that happen.” Amouri turned, looking the rest of the way up the stairs and said “we need to go up there and find out what we are going to see.” John agreed and they began walking up the stairs. They walked slowly, making sure they did not step in the large amounts of blood on the floor. AS they got the to the top of the steps, they looked left and right. At first, they did not see anything. Amouri flashed the his light throughout the garage, trying to see. They looked to the left and then to the right. There they saw her. She was hanging from the wall of the parking garage. Her hands and legs were tied with a piece of rope, stretching her limbs out to four sides. There were large amounts of blood, as if she had been bled like a pig going to slaughter. Her eyes expressed terror, like she knew she was going to die, and it scared her. They walked up, slowly, not expecting to find anything of use. This is what every scene looked like. In all of them, with this particular killer, the limbs were spread out, the blood was everywhere, but there was never any evidence. No hairs, no spit, no blood, no dna, no nothing that would help them find this guy. They figured it was a man because of how he displayed his victims, which would require strength. Also, though Amouri and John did not share it with others, john’s visions always included a non-descript white man. Amouri reached for his radio because he had to call this one in. He had a few minutes with the victim to examine the scene, but there was nothing there. He knew the CSI people

wouldn’t find anything, but he had to call them. He also knew they would tease him because of his “partner” John, but it didn’t matter. He needed to call them. Amouri picked up his radio “L57 to HQ, at the scene of another one, West Port Plaza parking garage.” “roger that, calvary on the way.” Amouri knew it would take about fifteen minutes for anybody of consequence to get there, especially considering they knew the victim was dead. There certainly was not any real hurry because everybody already knew there would not be any evidence at the scene. Amouri and John found a picture of the victim in her purse and they walked towards West Port Plaza. They were hoping that somebody would know her, somebody who could point them in a direction, any direction. Both of them walked out the plaza once the first uniform officers showed up. They walked through the many restaurants asking patrons, waitresses, and cashiers if they had seen this woman. Nobody had. Then, at the St. Louis Bread Company, they found somebody who remembered her. As they walked in, they approached a girl at the counter. They walked up and asked her, “have you seen this woman here before?” “no, but I don’t usually work weekends, ask Jane, she is here every Saturday and Sunday.” Amouri and John said thanks and walked over to one of the coffee servers. “Are you Jane?” “yes, I am”, “have you worked all day today?” “yes, been here since seven.” “have you seen this woman before?” “Yes, she comes in every Saturday and Sunday morning. Today, she was here by herself for about ten minutes. After ten minutes, a man started talking to her. He was probably thirty four, wearing casual clothes, wind pants, tee shirt, tennis shoes.” “How long did he talk to her?” “For quite a while. She was flirting with him, that was obvious, he was pretty good looking, but I remember thinking, he was not that good looking. Anyway, he started off sitting by himself. She sat down near him because he was here first. He turned and said something to her. She laughed. The next time I noticed them, he was sitting near her.”

“It was pretty funny because then I saw her take her shoe off. She took her foot and began rubbing on his lower leg. He obviously liked it because he moved his chair closer to hers and grabbed her leg.” “At that point, they got up together. He walked behind her, checking out her ass, and they walked towards the garage. This wasn’t weird, because every once in a while you see a couple walk towards the garage. They know that nobody really goes in there at this time of day. Anyway, what was strange, was that neither of them came back. Normally, at least one of them will come back, but not here.” Amouri asked “if you saw the man again, would you recognize him?” “I do not know, because he was so regular. I might and I would be willing to try, but I am not sure.” “okay, hopefully, we will get a picture for you to look at. Anyway, thank you very much, and we will be in touch.” On the other side of the world, He was walking down a street in Moscow. He needed to make the trip because of some recent events. He had some people working for him in Moscow, just like in almost every city in the World. It seemed unmanageable, but he had certain abilities. One of them was watching and monitoring people all of the place. He was in Moscow because it appeared that one of His was beginning to waver regarding the cause. His name was Vitali and he had been wreaking havoc for about 2 years. By professions, he was an accountant. He was a numbers guy. He also was a computer guy and that is how he was helping Him. He was hacking into credit card accounts, bank accounts, and other financial institutions. His job was simple, to make all of said institutions in Eurupe to fail on July 3 2010. He could make it happen and it was going to happen. Over the past few weeks, however, Vitali was having second thoughts. He was 38 years old. Vitali Ivanof was married to a beautiful 32 year old Russian woman. They had 3 children, six, eight, and twelve. The six year old, Andrei, was very intelligent and doing quite well in school. The eight year old, Anastasia, also was smart, but she was also beautiful and going to beautiful as she got older. The twelve year old, Pavel, was a fantastic hockey player who was already playing on a national select team. His family was wonderful. His job was fantastic also. He had recently been promoted so he now managed fifteen junior accountants. He had gotten a raise and the company was doing so well that he had received five bonuses over the last two years. Two years ago, he had met Him. Vitali has gone

to a local bar so he could get a drink before he went home. He was sitting there, having a vodka, when this dark skinned man walked in. Dark skinned for Russia is different than dark skinned for other areas of the world. The man was in all black, with eyes that, Vitali thought could see right through him. The Man sat next to him and said, in a raspy whispery voice “how are you Vitali?” At that time, Vitali was not doing well. Vitali’s wife was likely cheating on him. His children were not well adjusted, all three of them hated him, even the youngest who was only four at the time. His job was spiraling down hill. The company was hemoraging money and Vitali had not gotten a raise in years. He was still a junior accountant and there were no real prospects on getting better. That morning, in fact, Vitali left at 7:30, like he did every morning. His kids left at 7 when the bus came. He left, without saying good bye to his wife, which was normal over the past year. He had gotten in his car and began driving to work. He had been gone about fifteen minutes, when he realized he forgot something that he needed for an assignment he had worked on at home. He pulled the U-turn and headed back to the house. He tried to call his wife so she knew he was coming back, but she did not answer. He got to his house about thirty minutes after he originally left. The document he needed was in his office, in the basement. He walked in the house and walked to the basement so he could get the document he needed. As he walked down the hall, though, he heard an odd noise, a noise that he did not expect to hear. He heard his wife moaning. He walked to the stairwell and started walking upstairs slowly and quietly. He did not want to keep walking, but he also believed that he could not turn around. He continued sneaking up the stairs until he got to the hall way. By now, he could hear his wife in, what was obviously, a compromising position. He kept walking until he got to the door to their master suite. The door was open and what he saw made him nauseous. There was his wife on her knees. She was sitting on the face of another man. The man had a hard on and his wife was reaching behind her stroking him. There was another man in the room and he was inside of her mouth. Vitali could not believe it, but he could not walk away. After a few minutes, they switched positions and his wife ended up on the bed. The man who was standing, who looked familiar to Vitali because it was the man who fixed their plumbing,

That man, entered his wife from behind while the other man sat in front of her. The whole thing lasted about twenty minutes and he watched the whole thing. He could not pull himself away. As they were about to finish, Vitali trudged down the hall way, down the stairs and to his car. After his day, he went to the bar and that is where he met Him. Vitali answerd “fucking horrible…why and who are you?” The Man responded “I know your day is horrible, but what if I told you I could make it much better” Vitali laughed and said “there is very little anybody can do to make my day any better, my wife was screwing two guys, my kids hate me, and my job is horrible, can you fix that??” The Man looked at him, and laughed out loud “what if I told you I could fix all of that. I could make you wife love you again, I can make your kids do well in school and love and respect you. I can make your job what ever you want it. I can mke the company profitable and make you promoted. What do you think? You don’t have to do much for me, but you do have to do something. You just need to tell me you will help me, what do you think?” “I don’t think you can do all of those things, but if you can, I will help you. What ever you need.” The man said, meet me here in four weeks. Let me know if things are better, if they are, then help me. If they are not, then we go our separate ways. Vitali agreed and went home. That night, nothing was better. IN fact, you could argue it was worse because he knew about his wife. Every time he looked at her, he could only think of her doing what she was doing earlier in the day. It sickened him. It sickened him so much that later that evening he decided he was going to make a move, a move he hadn’t made in ages. After the kids were in bed, and they were down stairs, he actually put a move on his wife. It worked, but this was not about her. This was about him. This was about him Hate Fucking her. And that is what he did. When it was over, though, she looked at him like she hadn’t looked at him in ages. He loved it. The next day, his kids, all of them, kissed him good-bye. His wife, kissed him passionately good bye. She told him she couldn’t wait for him to get home. He thought to himself, this could be fun. He went to work and things were better His boss told him that he was doing a fantastic job and he was being considered for a promotion. He could not believe that He had actually done what he said he was going to do.

Over the next four weeks, things only got better. His children did much better in school. They wanted to spend time with him and they had fun doing it. Vitali’s wife loved him again, even acting like they did years before. It was unbelievable, it was what every man wanted. Vitali’s job only got better over those four weeks. He got promoted and received a bonus. The company received a contract for a big job so he was responsible for one of the biggest jobs the company had ever seen. In four weeks, went back to the Red Door, the bar where he mean Him before. He walked in, sat at the bar, and ordered a vodka on the rocks. He walked in shortly thereafter. He sat down and asked “how are things Vitali?” Vitali answered “I am sure you know how they are. I don’t know how you did it, but, frankly, I don’t care. This is what I wanted. Thank you. What do you need?” He looked at Vitali and told him “lets take a walk.” They walked outside and He told Vitali what he needed. Vitali looked at him incredulously, at first he said no, he could not do that. Then he thought about his life only four weeks ago. He knew he could not go back to that. He told Him, I will help you. “I pledge my allegiance to you.” Now He was in Moscow, two years after that conversation because Vitali was wavering. His wife had made him start going to church, the one place He could not go, but that he hated. He needed people to stay out of those wretched places. He couldn’t go in because, no matter his power, He could not directly attack God. He needed to do it the way he was going to do it. He needed Man to do it. He could not do by himself. His goal was within reach, and somebody like Vitali was not going to ruin it for him. He was walking down the main boulevard of Moscow waiting for Vitali to leave work. He knew that he would be leaving soon. He had passed message to him that he was to meet him at the Red Door at 7:00 P.M. He knew Vitali would go because he didn’t want his life going back to the way it was. He liked his life. Over the past two years, his wife had been unbelievably sexy and free. They had even had five threesomes in that time, something that Vitali never thought he would have. At 7:00, Vitali walked in to the Red Door. He was whistling and smiling to himself. He could not have been happier. The only problem was that he was meeting Him. Vitali knew that this might not go well, but he didn’t know if he could keep doing what he had been doing.

He walked in, saw Vitali, and walked directly to him. He sat down, ordered Himself a vodka and stared at Vitali. He said to Vitali “what is going on? I understand you have some doubts regarding our plan.” Vitali answered “not doubts, but my wife is having me go to Church and I am concerned.” “concerned about what. I told you I would take care of you. Haven’t I done that?” “yes, but at what cost? Everything is good for me, but your plan sounds like one that might create chaos, anarchy, and death. I do not want that for my kids. I want them to live in peace and prosperity.” “do you think there will be peace and prosperity if I don’t succeed? There has been murder and mayhem since the beginning of time. Some of it was my doing, but some of it wasn’t. In fact, much of it was mankind’s fault. If you help me, there will be peace and prosperity, for those that have helped me. Your kids have helped me, through you. Don’t let your cheating whore of a wife ruin what we are going to accomplish. You are important and I expect you to follow through with your promise to me.” “I just do not know. The priest has made it clear that we are only to serve God and Jesus Christ.” “DON’T SAY THAT TO ME!!! You can serve who you want. Don’t believe everything those dumb, blaspheming priests say to you. I am the ONE, never forget that. You will continue to serve me, or you will die a horrible death, after watching your wife and kids die. I don’t really care what you do, but know that your family will be slaughtered if you say no. I would prefer you want to help because you want to help, but, I really don’t give a fuck.” Vitali, shaking and knowing he made a huge mistake “fine, I will help. I will help because I pledged my allegiance to you. I will continue to help you. Will you promise that you won’t hurt my family?”

Laughing, He said “if you do what you promised, your family will be okay. Just do not forget what your life was like before you met Me. Remember what your wife was doing. Remember how your children treated you. Remember your job and how horrible it was. You were nothing. I can make you nothing again or I can kill you. Both would be easy and both would take no time. Don’t give me a reason.” Vitali, shaking with fear said “don’t worry. I will do what you need me to do.” With that He told Vitali to get out of there. Vitali got up, still shaky, and walked out of the Red Door. He walked towards his car, wondering how he had gotten to this point. He got in his car and started to cry.

He knew there was nobody that could protect him or his family. The fact was, he knew, even during the four weeks when everything turned around, that he was messing with somebody or something that he should not be. He knew, but he was intoxicated with how well everything was going. He started his car, backed out, and began driving home. He got home in about fifteen minutes. He opened the front door and walked in to the two story town home that he and Maria called home. As he walked in, he called for Maria and she came out of the kitchen. She looked at him and asked “where have you been? Is everything okay?” “yes, everything is fine. Just a rough day at work. How are you today?” “fine, the kids are fine, are you hungry?” “actually, not right now. I am just happy that everything is okay. Where are the kids?” “they are upstairs in their rooms doing homework, supposedly.” “okay. I am going to go upstairs and read for a while. I am pretty tired.” Vitali went upstairs and began reading his bible. He did not really know why, but he read it. He was reading the Book of Revelations. He always knew, basically, that the Bible discussed the end of times. He had never read the Book, before, but he felt like it might be time. In Saint Louis, Anthony was prowling through Chesterfield. Anthony had met Him three years before, and since then, he had been wreaking his own type of havoc in West St. Louis County. To this point, the police had no idea who he was, and that was a good thing. Anthony was pretty sure that He was helping him avoid capture. Anthony was careful to not leave evidence, finger prints, hairs, DNA of any type, but he couldn’t be that good, could he? More importantly, He was right about one thing. Anthony only was attacking white women. At every crime scene, he left a black fist pained on the wall. He wanted everybody to assume this was a hate race crime. And it was working. Chesterfield was on edge and it was headed towards a real riot. The upper class white people were sure that they had a rogue black man attacking their women. This did not sit well with the inhabitants of Chesterfield, nor the police. As a result, black people were getting verbally

abused in grocery stores, convenience stores, and the Mall. It was getting ugly and it was spreading to neighboring municipalities. This same feeling was spreading in parts of almost every city in the United States. They were on edge, and, depending on the crime, they blamed another group of people: homosexual men, black men, white women, Hispanic men, Asians, it did not matter. Every city had some group they did not like and that is who was getting blamed. It was now the summer of 2009 and everything was progressing nicely. He was happy. He had minions in every city and they were driving their respective cities towards chaos. He wanted chaos. He thrived off of chaso. He needed chaos and it was coming. His plan would be complete in one year. It was July 3, 2009 and he needed one more year. In a perfect world, there will be small riots in many cities. He expected the crime to pick up. He expected the genocide to pick up. He expected the terrorist attacks to incease. All of these things would be brought on by his people, his minions, worldwide. Then, He had finally been able to infiltrate the United State Government. He had been able to influence random government officials, even the most recent President. But, he had never been able to control enough people in the United States Government to ensure that his will would be followed. As an example, in 2005, He had begun working with the President. The President needed an economic boost for the U.S. economy. He wanted some help. The president agreed and the economy got much better almost immediately. After becoming involved with the President, He tried to get some toehr things done. He found out, however, that even having the President was not enough. He had convinced the President to do some stuff that was helping. The President was allowing torture at an international prison. He had effectively slowed down aid to New Orleans after a major hurricane. He authorized the increase in troops in the middle east, even though the world was against the move. The President did what he wanted, or rather, what He wanted. Now, though, He not only had the the president. He also had seven members of the cabinet, including Secretary of Defense, Attorney General, Secretary of Navy, Secretary of the Interior, Head of Joint Cheifs of Staff, and the Secretary of State. These guys, along with the President, could help him reach his goals.

He also had the leaders of another fifty countries, and in the end, that is why he would succeed. He needed the individuals also, however. They would help make sure that the people, people who might otherwise care, not care when the Government did something that nobody would normally support. He had tested this theory in a small way about one month ago. He instructed the President to propose higher taxes for small town America. This certainly was something that nobody would support. In these days, though, nobody really objected. There were the normal fringe groups who would always have petitions, lobby, make up web sites, and other things that cause publicity. Nobody else complained. Nobody else wrote their congressmen. Nobody else cared. Why? Because they had enough going on. In their respective cities, there were significant crime problems. There were murders, rapes, and robberies. There were high level cocaine deals that resulted in significant death to different members of the police forces. This is what he needed. He needed people to not care what he was doing. He had to make sure they would do what he said once he was in power. Once he ruled the World, he would be okay> He didn’t know if it was better for Man Kind, but it would be better for him. There was no doubt about that. Amouri and John were trying to get some leads on any of these crimes. They could not figure out what happened to the Jose Lamonoco. That was completely out of character for these crimes. For what it was worth, the perpetrator of these particular crimes had never killed a man. Every victim was a woman, and an attractive woman. They were thinking maybe he had a helper. So far, there had never been evidence that anybody committed these crimes other than the perpetrator, the average white guy with no real discerning features. That description was similar to the desecription of the other serials that were active in the Saint Louis metropolitan area. In Chesterfield, the description was black man, though Amouri assumed that was a ruse to cause problems in the area. Similarly, in South Saint Louis County, somebody was killing foreigners, and making it seem like it was a local. Amouri was not sure about that. Again, it felt like a set up, but the plan, what ever it was, was effective. Tensions were high. Blacks felt like they were getting blamed for the murders in West. St. Louis County. In addition, the white residents believed a black man was responsible. In South city, everybody in those neighborhoods who was not a foreigner was in danger of getting assaulted. The foreigners, primarily eastern European, though the murders were an attack on them as a group. Again tensions were high. This was also true in North Saint Louis City. There, there

were a number of crimes, some murders, but also robberies and rapes directed only against black women. The victims that survived, always described the perpetrator as a white man. Those victims that did not survive, always had some key piece of evidence indicating a white man committed the crimes. Again, it seemed like a set up to Amouri, but he could not prove it. One significant problem he had, was that nobody in the police department believed the various crimes and murders were connected. They all believed that Amouri was a little crazy and nobody really believed him. Every officer knew he worked with John Gersmeyer. They knew he had these crazy theories that included a man in black as the mastermind of these crimes. He could never really explain how they were connected or the role of this mystery man, but he held firm to that belief. John did believe him. His visions were becoming more frequent and more descriptive. He often remembered more in these visions than he used to. He also was seeing the Man in black much more clearly. The face was always blurred, so he could not identify him, but he knew he existed and, though he did not know it, it put him in harms way. On McCree, Greyling was still making huge amounts of money. He was sitting on his couch, a woman with him, and he was thinking about his life. He met Him years ago. Before he met him, he was a regular guy with n real chance to do anything with his life. Instead, he was now rich beyond his wildest dreams, powerful, and essentially untouchable. He never touched anything, but he had his hands in everything. He always did what he needed to do, and nothing was different now. Greyling had just gotten of the phone. He had to meet Him down on Tower Grove. Greyling did not know why, but he knew needed to meet him. He had learned about five years ago that he needed to be available when He wanted to meet. Five years ago, Greyling was feeling a little to good. He had asked Greyling to meet him at a local bar. Greyling told him, “sure, I’ll be there.” He told Greyling “be there at 11:00, don’t be fucking late!” Greyling, who was not happy with being spoken to that way, did not show up. He went out to a different club and completely blew him off. He did not hear from Him for a few days and he thought that he taught the appropriate lesson. During those days, Greyling did what he always did. He listened to his boys telling him what was going on in the streets. He found out who

needed to be disciplined. IF somebody needed to be disciplined, he would either mete it out himself, or instruct somebody to do what ever needed to be done. He also talked to those few individuals who he discussed business with. He only dealt with two dealers who provided significant amounts of cocaine and heroin, or “weight”. These guys, White-T and Black Rob, knew about Greyling and knew what he did. He did not have to worry about them, however, because they dealt significantly more drugs than he did. Greyling needed a delivery of cocaine, so he called White-T. They set up the deal and he hung up. After talking to White-T, Greyling checked on his other business interests. He also controlled the prostitutes on in an area that began at Grand Avenue on the East, Kingshighway on the west, Vandeventer on the southwest, and Shaw on the South. It was a faily large area and it made him a lot of money. In addition, he controlled much of the gambling in south saint louis, which was often described as the area south of highway 40. He had his hand in the bookies and the private gambling rooms. The bookies needed him because he was the muscle if somebody decided they did not want to pay. IF that happened, Greyling would send somebody down to collect the money. If he needed to do that, his percentage increased by 50%. The bookie would still make money, but not the extent they would make otherwise. Generally, the bookies worked St. Louis Unviersity. Though that was north of 40, Greyling had a relationship with the public safety officers, so he did control that also. Five years ago, he was making about $20,000.00 a week. That was his net income. Gross, he was earning significantly more than that, but he did take care of the other people who worked for him. He was, in many ways, a God of his neighborhood and he knew it. Nobody bothered his people, and it was because he was that powerful. After he did not show up to meet Him, things began to change. Police officers began rotating through his neighborhood. Then, another gangbanger from the north side started trying to make in roads in his neighborhood. About one week after he did not show up to the meeting, Greyling was driving one of his old cars down Tower Grove when he was pulled over. He was never pulled over in his neighborhood. As the officer walked up, Greyling was trying to hide his unregistered gun, the marijuana, and the fairly large amount of cocaine he had just purchased for resale.

He assumed he would know the officer, they would talk, and the cop would disappear. This is not what happened. The police officer, saw Greyling trying to move the gun. He immediately called for back up. The other officers arrived in minutes that they forced Greyling out of the car. They searched the car and found the gun, the marijuana, and the cocaine. He was arrested. He could not believe it. This had never happened to him. The police roughly cuffed him, and threw him in the back of the squad car. He sat in the back seat trying to figure out what had happened. As they took him down to the station, the officer in the front seat, Officer Steele, asked Greyling how long he thought he was going to get away with his behavior. Greyling knew better than to say anything, but he was worried. This was not going like it normally did. He was concerned that this might end with him spending time in jail. One thing he knew, if he was gone for any period of time, when he got back he would not be in charge any more. Once he got to the police station, they put him in a private room. He waited and waited for hours before a detective entered the room. The detective wanted to talk, but Greyling had nothing to say. The Detective threatened physical abuse, jail, prison, and other unsavory things, but Greyling would not give in. He never talked. After a few more hours of the interrogation, they moved Greyling to a holding cell while they waited for the Circuit Attorneys office to issue charges. After a few more hours, Officer Steele unlocked Greyling’s cell. He was smiling, and he told Greyling he could go. Greyling could nto figure out what was going on. This made no sense. He knew they had enough to charge him with possession of a firearm and possession of a controlled substance. As he walked out of the station, he immediately saw Him. For some reason, this completely unnerved him. He did not know if He had helped but he knew that whatever he did, it wasn’t free. He said, in his raspy voice “I told you to fucking meet me. You didn’t. do you know what will happen if you do that again?” “I don’t. what is your fucking problem. I run me. You don’t. nobody else does. I do.”

“you think so. Hey Ass hat, I did all of this. The police arrested you because I made that happen. I made the northsider come in to your neighborhood. I made you sit in jail for the past twenty hours. I made your girlfriend fuck your best friend. I have turned your life fucking upside down and I can fuck it up for the rest of your life if you like? Or, if you prefer, you can pay attention when I want something and you can keep living your fantasy life that I FUCKING CREATED! Give me a FUCKING ANSWER!” Greyling, who was not happy being yelled at, was also very pragmatic. He knew that he needed his life to continue, because he could not go to prison and he had nothing else. This was it. He had sold his soul years before and now he was going to pay for it. He looked at Him and said “tell me what you need.” As it turns out, He did not need much at that time, but now, five years later. He did need something. Greyling, after that conversation, regained complete control of his organization. He had everything he wanted. He was making more money, he had more women, no kids, he controlled a larger area for gambling, drugs, and prostitutes. Life was good. “ February 2010. I have my reasons. You do not need to know them. You only need to know that February 2010 I need the chaos to begin. Can you do that? IF so, make it happen.” “Of course I can do that. I will wait the seven months you want me to do and you are right, I don’t want to know why you want me to wait. I will.” He looked at Greyling and said “good answer. You will be okay. Enjoy your summer. No matter what happens, by Febraury 15, 2010, this needs to start. He had similar meetings with his people all of the world. He told the leaders of African countries, to increase the violence in February 2010. He told crime lords in other cities to attack rival gangs in February 2009. He told those who were killing people to increase the frequency and intensity of attacks in February 2010. He told members of the United States government that something horrible could happen in February 2010. He told the computer people that in Febuary 2010 he needed them to shut down various sytems. February 2010 was only a test run. He needed to know who he could trust and who he couldn’t. He was worried about some of his people in all parts of the world. Some leaders were becoming squeamish with his requests. He was so close now, though, that he could taste victory. This could only go one way, a victory for him.

He did, however, now know he needed to take care of some loose ends. John Gersmeyer and Detective Amouri were getting closer and closer to actually identifying one of the serials. If they did that, the serial might mention him and some of the thigns that he had said. There was only way to stop Him, and he knew that John could make that happen. He made him nervious to think about that. He had done some checking, though, and he knew that it would be difficult to take John out. He had learned that he was “protected”. This meant that somebody was looking after him. He could not be killed like regular people because of his designation. There were not many with that designation, but he was one. The problem was, that along with the designation, he was also a seer. He could see things. Most of these people could not find somebody to believe them. John, though, found Amouri. Of course, Amouri was involved also. His family was the first set of victims in Saint Louis. They got it started. They chose his family because his wife was a seer too. He knew that the husband would believe his wife at some point, so he wanted to get ahead of the curve and he had her killed. He had hired Greyling, a young buck who He had helped out of a jam. This was Greyling’s first job, but he had been excellent and it was the beginning of his lucrative career. The problem, unfortunately, was they missed a potential witness. This man, whoever he was, had seen Him talking to Greyling. As it turned out, he had not been able to provide a very good description because he had been drinking. The unintended result, however, was that Amouri had a description of Him. When John showed up describing the same man, it was the perfect match. Now, because of an unknown witness from fifteen years ago, both were going to die. He did not know how, where, when, or by whom, but he knew it was going to happen and it was going to happen soon. John woke up sweating. He lived in a medium sized two story house in the south st. louis. He lived with his wife and two children, both daughters. One was 3 years old, the other eighteen months. His wife was an attorney who worked for a large firm down town. He always had trouble sleeping. In fact, he often went days with barely any sleep. He simply got used to it.

The problem, now, was that he was sleeping. But when he slept he dreamt things that could not be explained. As he lay there, shaking and sweating, he was reviewing what he just dreamt about. It had started innocently enough. He had been walking down Market Street towards the river. The sky was a brilliant blue, the sun out, and the temperature warm enough for him to be wearing shorts and a cardinals tee shirt. He was happy. AS he walked though, he had a real sense of dread. He had a sense that this day was unlike any other. He specifically remembered looking at his watch, and noticing the date, July 3, 2010 at 6:06 PM. He did not knw what that meant. As he walked down town, he noticed absolute chaos. Essentially, it was a riot. Buildings were on fire, people were getting attacked on the street, cars were burning. It was anarchy. Some of the police were actually joining in the riot. He kept walking, even though the bullets were flying around. He heard one bullet fly near his ear. A man ran at him with a large knife, but, at the last instant, he turned away, running from John. It was confusing, but, also strangely familiar. Before he had left his house, he had been sitting in his favorite chair watching the news. The reporter was detailing similar riots in every major city in the United States. They detailed horrible acts of cruelty in Africa and Asia. Reports of children and their moms being raped in front of their fathers. Reports of genocide and mass murders. Even mass burials. IN Europe, the financial markets crashed and the poor began revolting against the wealthy. In Switzerland, a group of about one hundred laborers stormed a local mansion and slaughtered the family. In france, a group of construction workers, walked into a hotel, rode the elevator to the most expensive suite, broke into the room, and murdered the family of a wealthy contractor. Similar stories existed in almost every country. Even basically crime free countries, like Iceland, Finland, Sweden, and Norway were going through their own versions of hell on earth. Third world countries were going through a worse, more violent time. It was unbelievable. After watching the news, he walked outside and ended up down town. He had no recollection how he got there. As he walked down the street, bullets whistling by his head, people with knives wreaking havoc, fires burining, and toher horrible things happening, he saw Him. He was also walking down Market Street. He was smiling and enjoying himself. He even directed one group of men to a helpless women who needed some “attention.” At that moment,

He saw John. He sneered in his direction and yelled, in a raspy voice “do you have any fucking idea who I am or what I am doing?” “no, why do I see you in every vision? Why are you always around? Why are you here?” “Because I run this. This is my doing. I am doing what needed to be done years ago. I tried to do this in 1939. I tried to do it in 1860. I tried to do it in 486. I tried to do it in the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, but I failed. I will not fail this time. I will rule the world, the afterlife, and in between. You can not stop me and nobody can stop me.” AT that moment, He swung a large elaborate sword at John. As he felt it begin to slice through his throat, he woke up. He sat up with a start, sweating profusely. He felt his neck and did not feel blood, though it still stung. He did not know what to do, but at least now he had an idea of what was going on. He still did not know how to stop it, but of if anybody could, but he had to try. He didn’t know what to do, so he called Amouri. It was 4 in the morning, but he knew that Amouri was awake. He was always awake. John called Amouri’s cell. It rang four times and went to voicemail. John left a message, “Amouri, give me a call, I think I know what we are up against, but I don’t know how to stop it.” He made sure it was delivered as an urgent message and he hung up. John walked down the hall and checked on his daughters. He went in the first room, where his three year old slept and walked to her bed. His wife and he had recently bought their daughter a new bed. She had out grown her crib and had been trying to escape. He walked over to her and kissed her gently on the forehead. He told her that he loved her and walked out and down the hall to his other daughter. She was eighteen months old and still his baby. She still slept in a crib. He walked over and looked at her blond curly hair. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He whispered and said “I love you angel, I will always love you, I will do what I can to make sure this turns out okay.” He did not know what he was going to do, but he had to try to stop Him. He coud not let this happen. He had to make sure that man kind would survive so his daughters would survive. He could not bear to think about what would happen if he failed. The problem was, he did not know how to succeed.

After looking in on his children, he decided he needed to take a walk. He left his house and went right. His house was located in a fairly nice neighborhood in south st. louis. He lived down off of Gravois Road near Kingshighway. It was a safe neightboorhood with a lot of older homes. It was established and solidly middle class. As he walked by a number of houses, he was racking his brain trying to figure out what he could do. It was September 2009, and based upon his dream, he had about ten months to solve this problem. It felt like He was the one in control, but how do you stop somebody who is likely not a man. He did not know if he was the Devil, Lucifer, Satan, or what, but he did not think he could kill him like you could a regular man. This was going to be difficult. He thought maybe Amouri would have an answer, but he had left his message about 45 minutes before, but so far had not heard from him. He assumed that the message he left would get an immediate call back. But so far, nothing. As he walked, he noticed a man walking parallel with him on the other side of the street. This man was younger, black with very dark skin. He was wearing gray pants, a white shirt, white tennis shoes, and a red baseball hat. He was probably about 28 years old. Every time John looked over at him, the man would look in the opposite direction. John did not know who this person was, but it felt like he was being watched. As he walked down Gravois, which was a fairly busy street, he continued to notice this man. It was unnerving, but strangly, it did not scare him. John knew he would he would be okay, even though he was extremely worried about Amouri. He could not figure out what he did not call back. It had been almost one hour and Amouri always returned his calls. Always. He walked and walked. The other man continued to mirror him, but he never said anything. As he walked north on kingshighway towards the Central West End, he still was being mirrored by the young black man. When he got to Lindell, he turned right. He had no real reason, but he felt an urge to do so. Finally, he got to Newstead. Once he got there, he looked to his left and there was the young black man. The man walked inside a side door of the New Cathedral. John had not been inside the New Cathedral for years. The last time he went, he was amazed at how big it was, and how it made him feel so insignificant. As he looked, he felt an unbelievable pull to walk inside.

He crossed Lindell and walked up the steps to the Church. As he walked up, he felt the same insignificance as he did years before when he went to the Cathedral. The doors were old and wooden. Construction of the Cathedral began in 1908. It was not completed until 1988. The Cathedral was humongous and John loved to visit it. He just had not time to visit in the recent past. As he walked up the steps, he knew that he needed to visit more often. He walked up the steps and pulled on the door but it did not open. It was locked. He could not figure out how the young man got in. He pulled again and it still did not open. He turned to walk away, confused, but thinking he would have to come back another time. As he turned around, he heard a click on the middle door. He walked up to it and pulled again. This time it opened. As he walked in, he marveled at the high ceiling and the mosaic on it. He walked in further and looked at the ornate statutes for the fourteen Stations of the Cross. They signified the passion of Jesus Christ beginning with Jesus’ condemnation to death and ending with the laying of Jesus in the tomb. The sculptures were beautifully detailed and John walked by each one, saying a short prayer. After he had looked at every one, he walked to the front of the Church, looking at the alter and stained glass windows. As he looked at the Alter, he saw the black man again. This time he walked over to him and said “I think we need to talk.” “Why? I have seen you for the past two hours walking with me as I walked over here. What do you want?” “it is not what I want, it is what I need to tell you. You are more important than you think you are. You are The One. Mankind needs you, but you need to understand what is actually going on, you need to understand how you can help.” “I am not the One. I am nothing. I am a regular guy trying to support a family. I am just trying to survive. I don’t know what you are talking about, but lets stop this now.” “you do know what I am talking about. You have visions. You have seen Him and you know what he looks like. You know what is he planning. You had a dream last night, that is why you are out walking tonight. Because you saw The Dream. You know what He is trying to do. Let me guess, in the dream, it started with news casts of riots and murders worldwide. Then, you left your house and saw and heard a riot throughout the city. At some point, He walked up to you.

He told you what he was going to do, and he swung an ancient sword at you. You woke up immediately before he sliced you’re your neck.” “how the hell did you know that? That was my dream, but I don’t kow what it means or what to do.” “that is why you are special. Others who have had the dream in history have wanted to die or they ignore it. They pretend it never happened. You know you are special. Amouri knows you are special. So does He. He knows and he will come for you, because you can stop him. Nobody else can, but you can. “that is why, during your life, you have not been hurt. Remember when you fell in the lake, and the vine magically appeared and you pulled yourself out. Remember when you were almost hit by the car when you were on that bike. You swerved for some reason, even though you did not know why. Remember when you fell off the cliff, but ended up hitting those pine trees. You escaped with some bruises even though your friends were killed. Even though you don’t know it, there are ten more stories like that where you survived something you, frankly, should not have. “Just one year ago, you were walking across the street. A car flew by about three seconds after you crossed the street. You didn’t even see it, but that car was meant to hit you. By the grace of God, it was held up for the briefest of times by a garbage truck. Three years ago, you were driving on Highway 270. you were at the Daughtery Ferry exit when a tractor trailer, whose driver was asleep at the wheel, caused a horrible accident. The accident started about 10 seconds after you exited the highway. You probably assumed you were just lucky. IN reality, that accident was meant for you, but again, the accident was delayed, this time by a dump truck on the highway that slowed the tractor trailer down by a few minutes. “In any event, there are many more such instances. You are protected. This means you are special. You know that, even though you do not know it.” John looked at him incredulously. What could he possibly to do with this information. He was worried because he had not heard from Amouri, and now he was very worried about him. He needed him there to so they could sort this out together. He looked at the man and said “what am I supposed to do with this information. How can I possibly stop this guy?”

“There is no doubt that this will be the hardest thing you have ever done. But you won’t be alone.” “do you mean Amouri? I don’t know how helpful he can be. In addition, I can’t even find him. I don’t know where he is or what he is doing. He always call me back, but now, nothing. I am worried about him, but I really need him here now.” “I do not mean Amouri. I mean me. I can help you more than you think. I am not from here. I can not directly fight Him because that would cause a holy war that nobody would survive. Man kind would be wiped off the planet. I need a somebody down here to do what needs to be done. We are safe in here. He can never get you, or anybody, if they are in type of church, temple, synagogue, or mosque. He is, essentially, the devil. In reality, he is a lower level evil angel. “He lived, as a regular man, almost 5000 years ago, in the time of Abraham and sarah. He died like many people did 5000 years ago, he was murdered by a rogue group of thieves. He had not lived a good life, but at that time, you were guaranteed eternal life if you only showed the proper respect once you ascended to heaven. The problem for Him, whose human name was Isaac, is that he had a significant attitude problem. He had problems during his life, he was bad and had always been bad. From his youth, he caused trouble. When he was young, it was little things, breaking peoples stuff, killing their pets, beating up smaller kids. 5000 years ago, thigns were different, his parents beat him like there was no tomorrow, almost killing him on two occasions. “Back then, the age you died was the age you stayed for eternity. If he had been killed at age 5, the world would be better off. Instead, though, he lived until he was 28 years old. In his 28 years, he had raped women, killed men, stole, and done every thing else that somebody could do that they should not do. At 28, he was running around between his home town and the nearest other town. He had been with a group of men robbing travelers. AS you know, there is no honor among thieves. As a result, after robbing and raping a couple that passed, they turned on Him. “They turned on Him because of his viciousness. They did not want to rape the woman, but he did and he raped her anyway. The other five members of his group, allowed the rape to happen. Once it was over, Isaac killed the couple by cutting off their heads. The other five, sickedned by his violence, began yelling at him and telling him that was unnecessary, they did not sign up for that, and they wanted no part of him. He responded by attacking one of them with a

rock he found on the ground. He swung at the biggest one, Benjamin. Benjamin avoided the rock and swung back. Just then, the other four, attacked Isaac. He was stronger than the others, and certainly more violent than they were. He seemed to be gaining the advantage, when one of the others, finally connected with a rock he had picked up during the struggle. That shot hit Isaac directly in the temple. The man who hit him, kept hitting him, over and over again. After three or four shots, Isaac was dead. The last thing he saw, was the rock coming down one last time. He felt it crack into the side of his head. The last sensation he had, was his skull breaking and his brain leaking out of the side of his head. Upon his death, like with everybody, Isaac’s soul left his body. When a person dies, their soul elevates from their body, leaving only a piece of meat on earth. The soul imitates Jesus’ ascent to heavan. As the soul rises into the sky, the person rises with it. Isaac was watching his dead body on the ground. It was getting smaller and smaller as he was lifted higher and higher. After about ten minutes, he was rising through the clouds. Once he got above the clouds, he saw a very bright light and then a large gate. He walked up to the gate and expected to go through. He was not sure what he was seeing, but he strangely felt like it was familiar. As he walked to the door way, a man appeared. He was older, white, with a long flowing white beard. He was wearing white robes and he said “Isaac, you have lived a bad life, but you can still enter and be a part of everlasting life if you acknowledge two things, first, that you did wrong and second, that you are repentant, and third, you must acknowledge that you made a mistake.” “if you do answer those three things, you will be granted entrance and here you will remain in paradise.” Isaac looked at him, wondering if he was really God, and said “Listen, I always did what I wanted to do. I made no decisions based on anything except for what I liked and what I wanted. That will not change. I am what I am.” The old man looked at him, shaking his head and said “you need to give me your responses.” Isaac answered, “I did not do wrong. I do not believe it is wrong to do what you want, regardless of who else is involved or hurt. That is what I believe.” The old man looked at him, opened another door and told Isaac, “you can go through this door.”

Isaac walked towards the door, and walked through it. Once he was trhough, however, he knew this was not someplace he wanted to be. It was just miserable in every way. It was not hot, like people assume hell to be. Instead it was horribly uncomfortable. It was hot and then cold. Humid and then dry. There were bugs every where. There were rats, and moles, and other rodents that were not pleasant. There was nothing good about that place and Isaac hated it from the first moment he walked in. He walked around staying to himself, trying to get the lay of the land. It was quite a few months before he even began talking to anybody. Everybody there was miserable and nobody wanted to talk or have conversations with anybody. It was lonely and sad. It could not have been worse. After a few months, however, he figured out that he could leave. He could wonder earth and see what people were doing. He could not interact with them, but he could leave that horrible place. The problem with going to earth was simply he could not stop or start anything from happening. He only could observe. About one year, even though time was not really kept, after he got there (was killed), Isaac was walking around trying to figure out a way to get where he wanted to be, in charge. He figured early, though, there seemed to be no way for him to go any where else. There seemed to be no way for him to get to the other door. He couldn’t figure out why or how that was, but he wasn’t going to accept it. Just like when he was alive, he was going to change his lot in life, he was going to make everything better. He began talking to people at that point. He talked to everybody he could find to learn as much as he could. What he learned was helpful. He was in hell, period. There was no other way to say it. Also, there was only one way to get out of there. The only way out was to rebel and over throw God. He needed to figure out a way to get a people to help him. Once he could get help, he would begin the process. So, almost 5000 years ago, he began enlisting people to help him. He needed help, and he started finding the worst of the worst to give him what he needed. In the beginning, he recruited other thugs like himself. Those people who had no remorse for the horrible thigns that they had done. He talked to killers, rapists, burglars, and others who had victimized the weak their entire lives. As the became a larger group, they began to control things in hell as much as they could. They could control who came near their area, they used weaker people to keep their area clean and they still found women who they could convince or force to treat them like they wanted to be treated.

Over time, however, what they had simply was not good enough. This group wanted more than a good life in hell, what they wanted was a good life in heavan, which could only happen when they changed the order of things. Unfortunately for them, they could only live in heaven if they changed the culture of the world. Isaac was powerful, but he could not over throw God. He was the all powerful and he, and the largest group of men could not put a dent in God’s power. So much of his power was not personal, it was based upon the people He had created. He had taught them, through the Bible, that he was the only God they were to worship. Over time, it was the only way they knew to be. If he tried a direct attack on God, it would fail because even if it succeeded, the people would believe in him. If they believed in Him, than God’s power was unmatched. As Isaac thought about these problems, he tried to think of ways that he could change the entire world population’s image of God. Then he figured it out. He knew that if he could cause enough chaos and anarchy, it would be easier to convince them that God really wasn’t as good as he made himself out to be. In addition, he knew that if that chaos and anarchy killed enough people, it would be even easier to get what he wanted. Immediately, he began planning how he could make this happen. He knew that it would be difficult. He still only knew that he could only observe people on the Erth. He did not think, nor did he have the power yet, to affect the people’s behavior, talk to the people, or use them. Isaac was tired of watching man kind. He needed to be involved because that was the only way he could get where he wanted to go. Finally, after some years, he met somebody who might be able to help him. He was introduced to another person there, Joshua, who knew how to interact with people. To get this done, he needed to talk to the entity that humans called Satan. He had originally been an Angel with God. He had, however, decided he wanted to be in charge. He found other Angels who were with him and they tried a direct rebellion against God. They failed. God was simply too powerful and this “Satan” lost and lost badly. As a result, God created this alternate Heaven, or Hell, for those who supported Satan. Satan ruled this place with an iron hand, but he wanted nothing more to get back at God. They all had all of the time in the world since they were living in hell for eternity. Satan, though, had one useful power outside of Hell. He could give Isaac the gift of actually talking, listening, affecting, and manipulating man. He knew that Isaac would do it. He

thought, that if Isaac was eventually successful, then Satan would take over and he would get what he wanted. He intended on using Isaac until he did not need him anymore. Isaac was fairly certain that Satan would kill him if he was successful, but he decided to worry about that later. Over the next 5000 years, Isaac tried to make his plan come true. He often went to earth, more than any other inhabitants of Hell. He manipulated people, he tried to get them to do things they would not regularly do. He used them, he made them evil. He found those people who would be receptive to his advances, those people who were insecure, poor, weak, powerless, and he made them confident, rich, strong, and powerful. He did things for them that had never been done before. They could not have been happier. As time passed, however, even though he found thousands of people to help him, his plan never worked. He never had enough minions, or minions in enough positions of power to get man kind to the type of chaos required for end of the world. In 486, Rome fell because Isaac made it fall. He assume that would be sufficient to bring man kind to its knees. It was not even close. The Church, Isaac and Satan’s biggest enemy, stopped the chaos. It was always the Church. Though they were powerful, they could not challenge God’s will and his way. God, however, was different. He refused to meddle in human affairs. He trusted that his people, man kind, would do the right thing before complete and total chaos and anarchy could begin. He knew that there were people on the planet who would not fall to the temptation of Satan and Isaac. He knew these people would always defeat evil. They always had, and they always would. God was not concerned with what the people called him, Allah, God, Jehovah, Buddah, it really made no difference. The people worshipped him and that is what was needed to defeat Satan and the pure evil he embodied. Throughout history, Isaac had gotten his hooks in individuals and large groups who would try to create the necessary chaos. Inevitiably , though, there were more people who believed in him who would stop it. Even when the Romans murdered his only son, Jesus Christ, there were religious believers who made sure that Jesus’ name lived on forever. Throughout the centuries, man kind was able to rely on God for stability and balance. Even when people acted because of their religion, there always would be others who would reign them in and make sure that the everything ended okay. God was confident that it would always this way, until the millenimum.

God was aware of two very real issues that were being presented to man kind. First, there were not many people who believed in him strongly any more. He knew that without man kind, He did not have power. If He did not have power, than Isaac, but really Satan, would be able create the chaos and anarchy necessary to destroy man kind. If they could do that, they would turn Earth into a Hell and they would be able to escape. Their reality would turn in to heaven. There would be no balance. There would be no stability. There would be no good. There would only be people acting on their base instincts, like animals. Man kind would be relegated to a sad, unintelligent, unreasonable, irrational group of organisms with no civilization or civility. It went against everything God had intended when he created man kind. God, however, never became involved. That was not his way. He did not take an active role in human affairs. He watched as his son was crucified. He watched as children died in natural disasters. He watched as great men died from relatively minor illnesses and wounds. He did not stop the assignations of great men. He did not make sure that evil men were killed before they could wreak the havoc and terror that made them famous. Even though He certainly could have done all of those things, and more, he did not. That was not his role. Now, that role might cost him his power. That role might end his greatest creations, man kind, earth, civilization, and the world. He could not let his happen. That is why, for the first time, he sent an Angel to help the One. Thought this “One” did not know he was special. He was special and God, through his Angel, made sure that nothing happened to him. He saved his life on a number of occasions and now, he would need to protect him. God could not take an active role, but his Angel could and he would do everything in his power to make sure that John survived. As the Angel was talking, John’s head was spinning. He could not wrap his brain around what he was hearing. The world was heading towards a cosmic holy war and this black man was telling him he was the one to prevent it and save man kind. How the hell was he going to pull that off? He was not the person to make this happen and he had no idea how he would do it anyway. How could a mere mortal, whether he had help from an Angel, or not, save the entire world from a plan that Satan and his henchmen had developed for 5000 years. The Angel continued, “there is really only one way for this to end. It is not easy and it is very dangerous. I can help you, but I can’t do what needs to be done. That is for you, and you alone. You must kill Isaac. Isaac is the puppet master. Without him, all of those people who are working with and for him, will feel free. They will regain their abilityt to do what the want and do

what they feel is right. There is a man in Russia who tried to break away, but Isaac threatened his family. Isaac will do whatever is necessary to make this happen. “As you know from your dream, July 3, 2010 is a very important date. That is the date that Isaac will begin the full dismantling of man kind. As you probably know, the number 7 holds significant importance to all religions and to God. There are seven days in a week, seven levels of heavan, seven daughters of RA, originally there were seven heavenly bodies, seven wonders of the ancient world, seven heavenly virctures, seven deadly sins, Pythogoreas called seven the perfect number, a combination of the triangle, 3, and the square, 4, the seven seas, the seven continents, every seven days the moon looks different, there are 52 weeks in a year, five plus two equals seven, seven colors of the rainbow. The list goes on and on. “Similarly, thirteen is often considered unlucky for man. Judas of Iscariot was the thirteenth person to arrive at the Last Supper. Loki was the thirteenth God, and as many know, he murdered Baldr. At Baldr’s funeral, Loki was the thirteenth person to arrive. Hammeurabi’s code skipped a number thirteen illustrating the even before the modern religions, man has had issues with thirteen. Ancient Persians believed the twelve constellations in the Zodiac controlled the months of the year, and each ruled the earth for a thousand years at the end of which the sky and earth collapsed in chaos. Therefore, the thirteenth is identified with chaos. “If you add the numbers that make up the date 7/3/2010, it equals thirteen. This was no mistake. Though man has stopped fearing the number thirteen, that confidence is misplaced. Thirteen is the number that gives Isaac his power. Thirteen is irregular, it is odd, and it is evil. Bad things happen on the thirteenth, but also, on dates where the numbers add to thirteen. The persians were correct, thirteen is very bad. And in nine months, the number thirteen could hold even more significance to all of man kind, because that could be the date man kind is destroyed.

Amouri did not hear him walk into the house. He was in his office, going through more police reports. He had been working non-stop for months. Since he met John, he believed he was getting closer to the solution. He knew he might not only solve the current murders occurring around the city, but also the murderer who killed his wife and children. That night would haunt him until he found that Man. The intruder was a man in his mid thirties. He was thin, black, and had very short hair. He was carrying only one weapon, a Bowie Knife, even his instructions were very clear. Do not kill him, unless there was no other option. The rest of his crew was outside. Greyling had been

very clear how this was to go down. He was to slip inside the house and wait. Eventually, Amouri would lay down to go to bed. He did not sleep for a long time, but every night he decided to call it a night and he would go to bed. Once that happened, he was to go upstairs and hold the chloroform rag over his mouth and nose. He did not understand why they were doing it this way, but these were the instructions. He had kidnapped many people before. He was a burglar on the street and by trade. Sometimes Greyling used him when he had a particularly special job that required a professional’s attention. This one did. Amouri, as he was called, had an impressive security system. All of the windows and doors were wired. They were not simply hard wired into a phone system, the normal way a security system was installed. Those, while normally effective, could be circumvented without too much trouble. Amouri, however, had his wired into the phone and his wireless internet. It was set up so that if the phone was cut or if the security lines were cut, a signal hit the wireless. That signal would wake up his computer which would immediatley emit a high pitched whistle, whether the computer was on or not. IN addition, he had a smart home, so the computer controlled the lights, thermostat, and other items in the home. Once the signal hit the computer, the lights would turn on, the stereo would begin playing, and the TV would turn on. All of these things would unnerve any burglar. They did not unnerve Andre, however. He had a pirated I-Phone that he could program on. He knew, from research, that Amouri had a complicated and very effective set up. He hacked into his network and shut off the alarm from the inside. This was essential because he did not have to cut the physical line. He guessed, that if he did that, Amouri had a back up system that would have sent a signal to the local police department. After Andre turned off the system, he got in through a back window into the basement. He waited in the basement for hours, making no noise, until Amouri turned the office light off. Amour had reviewed the reports dozens of times. At about 2:00 A.M. he turned the light off in his office and began his normal routine. He went to the kitchen and cleaned up his dishes. He put the plate and cup he used for dinner in the dishwasher. He turned it on, brushed his teeth, and took out his contacts. He put on his old glasses and walked to the stairs. He checked the front door and walked up to his bed room. It still, even after fifteen years, did not feel right that his beautiful wife was not there. Since her death, he had not dated or even slept with another women. He couldn’t. He had considered dates on a couple of occasions, but both times, he

decided he wasn’t ready. He assumed he would spend the rest of his life alone. Now, though, he had hope. He hoped he could find the people responsible, and then, maybe, he could go on with his life. Once he was upstairs, he turned on the TV for noise while he picked up a little bit in the bed room. After about fifteen minutes he turned off the lights and tried to get some sleep. Amouri woke with a start. He did not know what time it was or what was going on. He felt the cold wet rag over his mouth and nose. He did not want to breathe because it smelled like Chloroform. He did not know what was happening, but it was not good. He knew not to struggle because he would have to breathe sooner. He also knew if he could reach his spare gun, he might be able to get out of this predicimant. He kept the gun under his mattress. He kept his left hand in view, but with his right, he reached for the mattress. He snuck his fingers under the mattress, but he felt nothing. He could not believe the gun was not there. It was always there. Amouri’s face must have shown the disappointment because the man who was doing this, smiled and said “did you really think I would leave that there for you? I have it, just breathe and go to sleep.” Amour struggled then, trying to break free. He couldn’t. This man was strong the Chloroform was starting to take effect. After about thirty seconds, he had to breathe. He did not want to, but his body made him. He took a breath. After a few more seconds, he began to feel very sleepy. After another few seconds, he felt himself slipping into a deep sleep. Andre had snuck up stairs soon after he knew the lights were off. Amouri almost saw him when he turned around to check the front door. Luckily he did not. After Amouri went upstairs, Andrew waited for thirty minutes. After those thirty minutes, he waited another thirty. He heard nothing. It was the silence that can only be equated to a house with a people that are sleeping. He snuck up stairs, pulled out the rag, wet it with Chloroform, and put it on Amouri’s mouth. Amouri was experienced because he did not struggle. After about half of a minute, though, he knew that Amouri had taken a breath. Before he attacked, Andre had taken Amouri’s gun. It was good that he did, because the first thing that Amouri did when he woke up was reach to the familiar place of his weapon. As Amouri went to sleep, Andre hit a button on his cell phone. Within five minutes, another three men were inside the house. One was making sure that there was no evidence of their intrusion. He went through the entire house looking for anything

that would make anybody think somebody had been in the house. The other two went upstairs and helped Andre tied up Amouri. They bound his hands and feet. Next they wrapped him in a bag and put him in a box. It was going to be difficult to get him out of the house without somebody becoming suspicious. On the other hand, they did not want to wait. They voted and decided to take the chance and get him out of the house. The cars they were using had bad license plates so they would not track to any real person or entity. They carried the box out of the house and put it in one of the GMC Suburbans they drove to the house. The box fit snugly, but it fit. Once they loaded him in the car, they calmly walked out of the house, jumped in their respective cars, and drove away. They had been instructed to take Amouri to a warehouse in North St. Louis near the river. They worked for Greyling, so they were surprised they were going north. They knew that Greyling had a stash place closer to their neighborhood, but he had insisted. As the pulled into the warehouse, they parked the cars and got out of the truck. They had been given instructions, but they kind of freaked them out. They knew, however, the likely punishment for not following orders, was death. They took Amouri from the car and unpacked him. They dumped him out of the box. They cut off the plastic with a large knife. On two instances, they got more than the plastic, they also got Amouri’s skin. After they took the plastic off, they began removing his clothing. After they stripped him, they tied his hands and feet to four ropes near the center of the room. After they tied one rope to each limb, they hit a lever and it lifted Amouri in to the air. Once done, Amouri was suspended about six feet in the air. His hands were pulled over his head and his feet were pulled down and away from his body. The machine was intended, and it worked to pull the limbs off of a human being. Each of the men had seen it happen before, but they were instructed that this was not to happen to Amouri. He only was to be suspended in the air. Once he was tied up, suspended in the air, and essentially calmed down, they were to leave. Their job was done so they left. Immediately after they left, different men walked into the building. Amouri had done good work on the investigation. He had come closer than any other police officer in the world to figuring out what was going on. He had almost identified one of the serials, and he knew that He

had killed the Jose Lomonoco. He was insightful, intuitive, and he had the innate ability to think like the bad guy. That is what made Amouri so scared. He knew that he was not suspended like that because they were going to let him go. He knew they were going to kill him, and he guessed the death would b slow, painful, and very long. As the other men walked in, he only recognized Him. He looked at him and he knew the answer to the question he had for the past fifteen years. This man had killed his family. The Man walked into the warehouse wearing his customary black pants, black tee shirt, and black trench coat. He walked in front of two other men. One was short, dark skinned, with short hair. The other was bigger, also black, with a short afro. The Man said, in a horribly raspy voice “do you know what is going to happen to you? You are going to be killed, slowly, very slowly so you can tell us somethings that you know. You may not know much, but you will tell us what ever it is you know.” Amouri looked at him in disgust, he knew he was going to die, but he did not want to tell them anything. He considered his options and figured his only real option at a quick death and saying anything was by pissing this guy off. “I don’t know shit. I don’t know why you are doing this, but I do know you won’t get away with this. I am a fucking cop. Do you think they will just assume I ran away and not do anything. That will not happen, dumbass. You have over stepped your bounds.” The Man looked at him and laughed. “Let me tell you something. I have over stepped nothing. In fact there are no bounds that apply to me. I can do what I want, when I want, how I want, to whom I want. You have over stepped your bounds. I will get away with this and do you want to know why? “why? Why do you think you are such a bad man? Cut me down and we can see how tough you are.” “Let me tell you something, jack off, I killed your family. I raped your wife, over and over again until she was begging me to kill her. Once she started begging, that is when I let my cohorts have her why with her. I let them fuck her in every hole that she had, and I am fairly certain they did. More importantly, I think she liked it. The last timeyou saw you wife, she did not even like you, but she did like her time in the garage.

“Your boys, however, did not know or feel a thing. They were collateral damage, nothing more. Your wife was going to die regardless of what happened. Your son’t however left for their own reasons. He would not stop them or even to try stop them, they would do what they needed. “These guys are now going to spend some tiem with you. I know that this will be painful for you, but trust me when I say, you will tell me what you know.” Amouri looked at him as he walked out of the door. He know had proof of what happened to his wife and children. For some odd reason, he wanted to talk to somebody who knew exactly what he was going through. Somebody who would listen. He thought about that and realized he had it at one time. But he wanted it again. He knew that once he died, he would have it. He would see his wife and children again. He was not scared. He was ready for death to come to him. Greayling and little J looked up at Amouri. They actually felt bad for him. They had both been there when his wife and children were killed. Greyling and Little J were a little remorseful for that, but Greyling, and then many other people, were very successful because he had undertaken that incident. He knew that He had been the driving force behind his success. This was driven home more forcefully when he had been arrested after that traffic stop. He deserved to be taken to task for standing Him up, but he still did not think he should have been arrested. What was done, is done. The point had been driven home, and he would not disobey him again. Greyling pulled out a Bowie Knife he liked to keep around. He did not want to use it like he was going to have to, but sometimes, the lure of something is too great making people not do what they would normally do. Every day, man kind had examples of people doing things, not for their career or family, but for themselves. Others were addicted to the athletic process and cheers they received when they were on the field. Others, like Little J and Greyling had heard cheers and received hugs from a large amount of women at his daughter’s school. It did not matter any more. He knew it and that was okay Greyling walked up and asked him “I need to know what you know about our friend?” “I don’t know much. I know that more people are doing what they want with no remorse or consideration for other’s feelings. I know that you look like a person identified to me some time ago. Who are you?”

“who I am is irrelevant. You don’t know me, you won’t know me, you can’t know me. Do you know the Man? Are you familiar with Him?” “I don’t have any idea what you are talking about. I am just a cop trying to solve some crimes. These murders need to stop.” “you can’t stop them. Nobody can stop them. He controls everything and there is nothing you can do about it. Where is your friend, John?” “I do not know who you are talking about. Who is John?” “don’t FUCK with me! I know that you know who I am talking about. You are sweating your ass off. I can see that you are lying. Everybody in this room knows you are lying. We know more than you think we do. We have seen you with him. We know him and he is who we want. We will make you wish you were dead if you do not tell us where he is and how to get him. Your choice, what do you want to do?” “I am not telling you shit. John is a nobody. I don’t know why you want him or what you think he knows, but he isn’t who you think and he certainly does not know what you think he knows. He is a regular guy with a wife, a house, and a regular job. He is a nothing.” “Listen, Amouri, I told you that we know what we know. We know more than you think we do. But since you have decided to lie to me, decided we are going to do this the long painful way, we might as well get started.” Amouri was scared, but he was ready to die and see his wife and children again. He looked at the short black man and told him “even if I knew who this John was, I would not tell you where he is or how to find him. Frankly, I don’t know where he is right now anyway. I do not keep tabs on him.” “you know how to get a hold of him, though. Call him and tell him to meet you because you would like to talk to him.” “I will not do that.” Before they took his clothes and phone, he had seen that John had called him at about 4:30 A.M. He did not know what John might want, but he knew it was serious. John had never called him in the middle of the night. He had a family and he tried to keep them

from waking up. Amouri was worried about him, but he was not going to deliver him to these thugs. “I promise you, you will never convince me to contact him and set him up. John is good, and I will not fucking do it.” “whatever you say, Amouri. We will do this the hard way.” At the moment, another man came around the corner. He was a little taller than Greyling, same color, and also had short hair. He handed Greyling a pair of pliers and a long knife. Greyling walked up to Amouri, took the pliers and hooked them to his pinky. He pulled until the finger was dislocated. He did the same thing on three more fingers. Amouri, screaming in pain, looked at Greyling and said “Fuck you.” Greyling laughed and took the long, thin knife, and slowly pushed into the space between Amouri’s toes. Amouri, looked at Greyling, and refused to make a noise. Greyling, looking amazed, simply nodded at the other man. He looked back at Amouri and said, “this can all end if you simply make the phone call. Set up the meeting and you will die quickly. You do not have to go through this for him.” Amouri felt an odd sense of loyalty towards John. He did not really know the reason. He was close to him, but it was more than that. He understood that John was more than a regular man. He was special and Amouri knew it. He had something that was indescribeable. It was like an aura, but Amouri was not into that type of shit. It was as if Amouri knew that John would do the same for him. He was not going to give in and let him get hurt. Amouri looked at Greyling and said, “it does not matter what you do, but I am not going to do what you want. I simply will not betray him. He is more than you will ever be.” Greyling’s partner was coming back around the corner carrying jumper cables that had been “fixed”. On one side there were the regular clips for jumping a car battery. On the other side, however, there it was attached to a generator. The generator was on and Amouri could see the sparks on the clips. He knew what was coming so he prepared himself for pain like he would never experience again. Greyling walked over to Amouri holding the clips by the rubber handles. As he got closer, he touched the clips to each other, letting them spark right in front of Amouri’s eyes. Amouri was terrified, but he had come to accept his fate. Greyling asked him one more time, “are we really

going to do this or are you going do what you need to do, make the call.” Amouri replied “never. I can’t. do what you have to do, but I won’t agree to help you.” Greyling shook his head, and hooked the clips to Amouri’s hands and turned the generator on. He kept the power relatively low, but it still caused excruciating pain. Amouri’s body convulsed and shook as the electricity coursed through his body. He screamed in pain, but the pain continued as the electricity continue to move through his body. Finally, the power was turned off. Amouri felt nauseus and threw up. The pain was unbearable. Greyling walked up to him and asked, “are you still going to be stubborn or will you make the call?” Amouri simply looked at him with a blank stare, saying nothing. After staring at Greyling for about 30 seconds, Greyling turned the electricity back on. This time he turned the power even higher. Again, Amouri screamed in a pain that he never thought he would feel. He could feel every current of the electricity course through his veins, cells, muscles, and fiber of his being. It was unbelievable and he thought he was going to mercifully die. Unfortunately, he did not die. The pain continued for another 15 seconds before Greyling turned the power off. Again, Greyling asked, “are you ready?” Again, Amouri simply looked at him, saying nothing. He knew his life was over but he willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to keep his friend from meeting the same fate. Greyling looked at Amouri and said, “you want to know something, you have been looking for me for a long time. You didn’t know it. You did not know who you were looking for, but it was me. Fifteen years ago, I was seventeen years old. I was approached by the man you call the man in Black. He had saved my life a few weeks before so I felt indebted to him. He wanted me to set up a hit on somebody, that somebody was your wife. “I had no idea why he wanted me to do it. I have since learned he needed me to kill her because of the greater plans that he has. Regardless, my crew and I saw the woman and her two children walking home from a baseball game. We pulled them into a parking garage and we killed the two boys. Then, we raped the woman for 8 hours. We used everything we could and put it everywhere it would fit, and even places it wouldn’t fit. It was horrible and I vowed never to do that again. I realize that you will find no solace in that. After we abused this woman for that evening, we tied her limbs to four cars. Then we got in the cars and we all drove in different directions. You can guess what happened.

“As we left, He pulled me aside and he told me that he would protect me. He would make sure that I was successful, powerful, and that I would not have to worry about the police. He upheld his end of the bargain. I am one of the most powerful men in the city. I control most of the illegal operations that occur south of highway 40. I run prostitutes, gambling, and drugs. “I don’t know why I am telling you this, except to let you know that you are going against a force that you can not defeat. He is all powerful. I disobeyed one time, and He made sure that I was arrested and almost convicted. He did this in a period of twenty four hours. I don’t know how did it, but he taught me the lesson. I will not fuck with this guy, and I will fuck with anybody. He is too strong. You can’t beat him. More importantly, your friend can’t beat him. Nobody can and, in the end, He will win and John will lose. Is that what you want your final thoughts to be? It does not have to be, just call John. The result will not change, the only that will change is the pain you feel, and time that passes before John dies.” Amouri took all of this in, looked at Greyling, and said, “I guess I am happy that you solved the one crime for me that I wanted solved more than any other. I needed to know who did that to my wife and children. Now I know. The problem you have in trying to convince me is that when I die, I will be with my family again. That is all I want. That is why I considered killing myself at many different times over the past fifteen years. I have put the gun in my mouth. Death does not scare me, in fact, I welcome it because then I will be alive again.” Greyling thought about that answer, and said “understand, but this death will be as painful as any that any person has experienced. It could take days, weeks, or months. It can take as long as I want it to. Do you really want to be in this warehouse for the next six months dealing with the excruciating pain that I will inflict upon you? If you want to die now, you will contact John.” Amouri just wouldn’t do it. But he thought he knew how he could die quickly any way. In reality, though, it was all relative. He hadn’t been taken, he might have lived another thirty years. What was six months? It was nothing, so he looked at Greyling and said “do you what you have to do and I will do what I have to do.” Greyling looked at Amouri amazed at his courage and stupidity. He simply hooked the clips again, turned on the generator, and watched Amouri writhe in pain.

John was still in the Cathedral wondering what he was supposed to do. The Angel, Retteb, had made it clear that he was responsbile for saving the world. He just did not know how he was going to do that. He still had not heard from Amouri and he was fairly certain that something was wrong. He wanted to find Amouri because he needed his help. Retteb was still there. He was telling John how he could defeat Isaac. “Isaac, though he was already dead, could be killed. He could not be killed with regular means. He would be hurt by bullets, knives, and clubs. Though they will cause him pain, they won’t kill him. The only things that will kill him are items you can find in a church. Holy water is like an acid to Isaac. If you had enough of it, that would destroy him as it would burn him and make his cells dissolve. Also, Isaac could be killed by a special crucifix, blessed by a Bishop, with a knife on the end. Every church actually has one, though they are normally hidden deep in their catacombs. The crucifix in this church is in the alter. Those are the two ways to kill Isaac. If Isaac is killed, then the hold he has on these people will end, the man kind will be saved. “there is not much time. I will be with you, but I can’t do anything. I am here. Isaac can see me. You can see me. But I can’t do anything. As I said, God can not take an active role in the affairs of Man kind. You will have to come up with a plan. I don’t think it will be too difficult because they are looking for you. Isaac know that you exist. He knows you can see him. He knows that you can destroy his plans. He will find you, you need to be ready.” John was worried, but he was also was feeling a sense of duty and bravery he had never felt before. He knew what he needed to do, and he was going to do it. He and Retteb walked up to the alter and found the crucifix. While in the alter, it looked like any other cross one would find in a church. Once it was pulled free, however, it was signfiicantly longer. Below the cross, the knife had a number of jewels wrapped around the handle. It had rubies, sapphires, jade, emeralds, and other precious jewels. The knife extended down approximately ten inches. Once they pulled it out, they looked around for the Priest. They found him in the rectory, and asked where they could find a Bishop to bless the crucifix. The Priest, an older white man, did not even question why they were asking or what they were asking. He knew. Those that were religious, priests, rabbis, temple leaders, and all other leaders of various churches and religions understood that this was a time of great peril to man kind. The world was in trouble. The priest, Father Gary, as the Retteb and John walked up, said “I knew you were coming. Both of you. You, John, are the last hope. I just got word that the others like you have been killed. You have lasted the longest, whether by luck or skill, you are the last hope.”

John, still worried, but feeling more courageous, told Father Gary they needed a Bishop to bless the crucifix. Father Gary laughed and said “I am a Bishop. I have hidden that fact out of fear that I would end up like so many others. Obviously, He knows what can kill him. Therefore, he knows that there are only two ways to kill him, Holy Water, and a crucifix blessed by a Bishop. In other cities, and during other times, has killed the Bishops in the towns he called his ‘centers’. That is what he considers St. Louis. This means he believes that if his centers fall, then the rest of the world will follow. As you probably have guessed, then, I would have been a target of his death squads. I knew that my survival was a requirement if man kind was going to survive this attempt by Him and his people.” John looked on in awe asking himself how could everybody know about this, but nobody know about it. How could he never have heard about this before. Why was he only learning of this cosmic battle now. The questions would not stop in his head. He realized, that the answers to those questions would not help him with his duty and his plan. He looked at Father Gary and said, “I will do everything I can do. I do not know how I am going to get Him in a place where I can actually kill him. I do not know how I am going to get him alone without his many people who have been committing such heinous crimes throughout the city. What I do know, is that I will do everything until I have taken my last breath, to kill Him once and for all.” Father Gary looked at Retteb and said, “I have faith in him. His will is strong and his faith is stronger.” Retteb,, looking at John and then Father Gary, answered “I know. I have confidence in him. I hope he has confidence in himself.” And then looking at John said “I told you I will be with you the entire time. We will make this happen. The only things I can not do is actually plunge that crucifix into His heart. Otherwise, I will be at your side doing what I can to help you out.” John, looking at both men, sternly said, “Thank you for believing in me. I believe in me, let’s get this thing blessed, find Amouri, and get going and find this Bastard.” Father Gary blessed the crucifix, which immediately put him in danger, and sent both men on their way. About twenty minutes after they left, three men entered the Cathedral. Father Gary was downstairs in his office, and he did not hear the men enter. The men walked up to the alter, looked up at the giant crucifix over the alter. They were wearing black pants and black trench coats. He had instructed them to come to the Cathedral, find the priest, ask him three questions,

and kill him. Bryan, Anthony, and Jerimiah, had not expected such an order, but they knew better than to question Him. They all had assumed there lives were so wonderful after meeting Him, but slowly those lives they thought they had were nothing. They had nothing and they controlled nothing. The three walked down the steps and found the priests office. They opened the door and saw the priest sitting at his desk. The look on his face made it appear that he was waiting for them. When they entered he said, “hello Bryan, Jeremiah, and Anthony. I have been expecting you. What do you have to ask me?” Bryan, feeling nauseous, said, “hello Father. I have three very quick questions for you. Please answer them honestly and we will be on our way.” The priest looked amused, “ you will not be on your way. You will kill me whether I answer your questions or not. You know it, I know it, and your leader knows it. Ask me your questions.” Bryan, hesitated because of the priests honesty and bluntness, looked at the priest with pity in his eyes and he asked, “did you bless a criucifix?” Father Gary looked at Bryan and said “yes, I did.” Bryan asked the second questions, “Was there anybody with John?” Father Gary, because he knew they could do nothing to Retteb said, “yes, it was Retteb, your leader will know him because he has never beaten him.” Bryan, said, “third and final question, how do they plan on killing Him?” Father Gary, looked at them with pity in his eyes and answered, “I have no idea, but even if I did, I would not tell you.” Bryan believed him. So did Anthony. So did Jeremiah. It did not matter. They were ordered to do something, and they were going to do it. Bryan pulled out a pistol. A silencer was attached to the pistol so the gun fire would not pull a large crowd in to the Cathedral. If nobody heard anything, nobody would check on the priest, because it was Thursday, for a couple of days. He pointed the pistol at the Priest and asked “is there anything you want to say, or any prayer you wish to say before you die?” Father Gary only replied “I have pity on you and your souls. I do not know how you get yourselves in this mess. I do not why your lives were so bad that you felt you had to ‘throw in’ with somebody like Him. I do know that your lives were not as bad as they are now. I do know that each of you regrets what you have done, and will do, but you know your fate is sealed. If you oppose Him, you will die a death worse than any torture that is happening in your mind. You

know all of this. I wish I could help you. All I can tell you is this, God will accept you into His kingdom if you oppose Him. If you refuse, your life on this planet, and in the after life, will be worse than anything you can imagine. Do what you will.” Bryan, with the pistol still pointing at Father Gary, began tearing up. As tears welled up in his eyes, his hand began shaking. Anthony and Jeremiah both looked at Bryan, tears welling up in their eyes also. Anthony said “Bryan, maybe we should not do this. We should not be killing a priest, I don’t care what anybody says.” Jeremiah was nodding in agreement. Bryan, looking at Father Gary, steeled himself and said to Anthony and Jeremiah, “sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do. Sometimes those things you have to do are hard, sometimes they hurt you, but you have to do them because you gave your word.” Looking at Father Gary he said, “I am sorry.” And he pulled the trigger. The pistol spit and the bullet hit Father Gary in the forehead. As the bullet hit Father Gary, his head snapped back, as it tore through his skull, then through his brain, and out of the back of his head. The hole in the back of his head was bigger than the small hole in his forehead. Father Gary was killed instantly. After his head snapped back, he was thrown back against the wall, bounced forward and landed slumped over his desk. Bryan put the gun away and walked to Father Gary’s body. He checked his pulse and pulled him on to the desk chair. He posed him so his head was resting on his hands. He turned the chair so the back of Father Gary’s head was directly opposite the door. He said to Anthony, “clean up the blood on the wall, and do it right.” He looked at Jeremiah and told him “go upstairs and make sure nobody is snooping around. If they are, take care of them. Get your self together and make sure we are alone.” Anthony found some soap and sponges and started cleaning up the wall. There was blood and some brain matter on the wall. It made him sick to clean this stuff up, but he had to make it look right. Jeremiah was walking up the stairs and he heard nothing. He reached the top of the stairs and saw nobody. He checked a little longer, got himself together, and began walking back downstairs. By the time he got downstairs, Anthony had cleaned up the wall and Bryan had successfully posed the priest. They walked out of the church together. All feeling badly about what they had done, but doing what they needed to do for themselves so they could survive. -----------------------

John and Retteb were trying to figure out where to find Amouri. John had not heard from Amouri for a long time. Considering he left him a message at 4:30, he knew something was wrong. They drove by Amouri’s house and knocked on the door. They did not see any outward signs of an intrusion. But as they looked more closely, but the house did not look right. Amouri was routine oriented, and things that he would never leave undone, he had left undone. The lights were on, and the TV was still on. Two things that would not have been left on if Amouri left on his own. They also noted that the bed was not on. Whatever Amouri was, he was also a neat freak and he would not leave without making it. John and Retteb walked outside and began thinking about what may have happened. They knew that Amouri had been taken, something that John had assumed since very early this morning. They sat in John’s car trying to figure out where Amouri might be. As they thought, John had another vision. He hadn’t had one in quite a while, but this one came on out of nowhere. John saw a large warehouse with Amouri suspended inside on. He was naked and he was being tortured. The vision continued by pulling away, showing the Mississippi river on the right side. The sun was setting to the left and he could see Interstate 270 if he looked forward. He had an idea of where Amouri might be, but he did not know who would be waiting for them when he got there. He recounted the vision for Retteb and they decided to drive to the warehouse district in North Saint Louis and take a look around. They decided the best way to do it, was for Retteb to take a look around. He could more easily get in and out and nobody there could hurt him. John was extremely mortal, regardless of whether he was getting help or not. Retteb entered the district and began checking warehouses. As he looked inside, he also looked for any people, sentries, guards, or anybody. He saw nothing. Obviously, this warehouse district had been deserted for a long time. Finally, he heard something. He had been walking around for about twenty minutes when he heard voices. These were voices of men that were not happy. They sounded angry and they were yelling at each other. From what he could tell, the voices were arguing about the torture of a police detective. The detective was not talking at all. The torture was not working. They were trying to get the “other guy” there because “he” wanted to kill him. Though they did not really know what they were talking about, Retteb understood. The plan had been to lure John to the warehouse district

so they could kill him for Isaac. What had happened, though, was that Amouri had not only refused to do what they wanted, but he was embracing the pain and his upcoming demise. Retteb knew the story about his wife and children. He had actually met them before he came down. He told them that he would watch out for Amouri so he did not get hurt more than he already had. He walked towards the warehouse where he believed the Detective was being held. He looked around and saw only two men. Because Amouri had not done what they wanted, there was only a skeleton crew of people there. It was obvious they were gang members, but Retteb was not familiar with what gang. He walked back to the car and told John what he saw. They only had one weapon, the crucifix. They had nothing else, but John and Retteb really did not want to kill other people. They had one target and they intended on only killing him. They walked quietly down to where Retteb had seen the men arguing. As they got closer, they walked between containers, not talking, and trying to be as quiet as possible. After about five minutes, they found the correct warehouse. The men were not outside anymore. Retteb walked towards the warehouse and looked through a hole in the metal wall. There, hangining from the walls, was Detective Amouri. He was bloody. He had three dislocated fingers, a large hold in his foot, and he had electrical burns on his body. He was in bad shape and looked like he would have no energy even if they could get him down. He did not see the two men. There is no way they could be that lucky. He walked around the building, listening, and looking through cracks and holes in the warehouse walls. AS he got to the back, he finally saw what he was hoping to see. There were the two men, watching TV. They were not the men who had tortured Amouri. They were obviously only there to watch him and make sure he did not escape. Retteb ran back to John and told him what he saw. They found a two by four and quietly opened the door to the warehouse. They opened the door and snuck inside. There were not many places to hide. They walked quietly along the wall towards Amouri. Retteb would begin trying to him down. He could not attack, or hurt, the men in the warehouse. That was for John. John walked over to the room where the men were watching TV. Retteb had decided on a plan. He would make some noise after John positioned himself outside of the door. As they come outside, he would hit them in the head. It would not kill them, but it would incapicitate them

long enough to get Amouri down and out of there. Once he was by the door, Retteb made a show of dropping some tools. The clangs sounded like they could be heard for miles. The two men ran out, yelling at Amouri to stop whatever the hell he had been doing. AS the last one ran out, John swung with all of his strength and hit the man who ran out last. He hit him in the back of the head and he immediately fell. The first man heard the commotion and turned around. He also knew, though, that something was going on in the main warehouse. He reached for his belt, trying to find his gun or his phone. Either one was very bad for John. He screamed and ran full out towards the man. In his mind, he never remembered himself acting with such bravado, but he had no choice. John Gersmeyer, the regular guy who never did anything exciting, ran full force into this gang member and knocked him down. He stood over him, and swung the two by four. He hit the man in the temple knocking him unconsious. The plan had worked. The men were not going to move for a while. He ran into the main area of the warehouse and saw Retteb trying to get Amouri down. He was chained with padlocks and strung up to the walls. They searched for a lock cutter but found nothing. Amour was not much help because he was in such a state of exhaustion. After looking around, they found his clothes, and surprisingly they found his gun. They used his gun, by firing it at the chains in the wall, to get him down. Once they had him down, they carried him, supported him as they walked to the car. They did not know how much time they had. The two that were knocked out could wake up at any time. They also did not know when the next crew might show up. They got Amouri out of the building and got him up to the car. They laid him in the back seat, jumped in the front, and drove to a nearby hospital. After they got him some water, Amouri had no intention of waiting around doing nothing. He started feeling better and he knew he was going to help John. John needed it. He was not the type of guy who could sit around and do nothing. He needed to help. They needed a plan. Amouri said to both of them, “I have a cabin that nobody knows about. We can go there and work through a plan that might work. We need to figure something out because going at this guy with a frontal assault will not work.” John and Retteb looked at each other and said “agreed, let’s go.” Amouri directed them to Kennett, Missouri where he had a small cabin that had been in his family for generations. As they drove, Retteb told Amouri everything that he told John earlier.

He recounted the entire story, so Amouri understood what they were up against. This was not a regular psychopath. This was a guy with the full power of Satan behind him. After three hours, they arrived at the cabin. They had stopped at a local gas station and stocked up on supplies. Once at the cabin, they went inside, sat down around the kitchen table and began talking. They did not know how they were going to do this, but they had to come up with something. Every day was getting closer to July 3, 2010 and they needed something that would work. As they sat there, they did not know that Isaac, Greyling, Anthony, Jeremiah and others were driving south on Highway 55 to Kennett, Missouri. Isaac knew more than they thought he did, even more than Retteb thought they did. They were not going to have to look for them, because they were coming and coming fast and heavy. Isaac was not leaving this to chance. He wanted to end it now. He wanted to take John out because then there would be nothing that could stop him. That would be it, man kind as they knew it would be over and he would have all of the power he could ever want. He was actually giddy with excitement. The three of them, around that kitchen table, continued talking. They made a frozen pizza and tried to eat, even though they were nervous and scared. Amouri showed them where his guns were. His family had always kept the cabin well armed. His father had been something of a survival nut, so they had enough fire power in that cabin to create significant problems to even well trained swat team. They pulled the various weapons out and cleaned and tested them. He had an AK-47, two 9MMs, one sniper rifle, and a full M-16. After they cleaned them and tested them, they let Amouri go to sleep. They wanted to keep two people up at all times to keep watch. Even though Amouri was sure that nobody knew how to get to the cabin, or even knew it existed, Retteb would not assume that Isaac did not know about the cabin or how to get to it. Retteb’s caution was well placed. Isaac and his crew were only fifteen minutes from the cabin and they were ready to end their problems. Once these three were dead, there was nothing that could stop them. They drove down a small farm road and parked about one half mile from the cabin. They parked the car, got out, picked up their various weapons, and started walking towards the cabin. They left the road to begin the walk through the woods. They crept up so they could see in each of the windows. They could see Retteb sitting in the kitchen cleaning a gun. They saw John through another window. It looked like he was

reading or watching TV. They didn’t see Amouri in any window, but the what must have been the bedroom was dark. They assumed, primarily because of the torture he endured, that Amouri was in bed, resting or sleeping. They did not really think this would be too difficult. They continued walking towards the house. It was January 2010, so it was very cold. There was no snow on the ground, only dead leaves and dry sticks. It was very hard to be quiet, but they did the very best that they could. Amouri was not sleeping. He was on the floor of the bedroom, looking into the woods with his night vision goggles. These three had not been so stupid to assume that Isaac and his crew could not find them. They were waiting for them and they were going to end this right now. He picked up the sniper rifle and looked through the scope. He could see six people plus the man in black. He knew that shooting him would do no good. In reality, they need to draw him towards the house so John could stab him with the crucifix. This was not going to be easy, but they had to try. Amouri crawled into the other room, and said “do not look at me, but they are here. They are walking towards the house, slowly, and they are well armed. They intend to end this now. We have to end it. John, stay where you are, no matter what you here. I am going out the back door. I want to take some of these guys out before they get close to here. Hopefully, Isaac will make a move towards the house. You will need to hide behind the door and when he runs through, stab his ass. I know it is not much of a plan, but is all we’ve got.” John and Retteb nodded in agreement. Retteb could create diversions, but he could not hurt anybody. Retteb walked around and waited for the fun to start. Amouri opened the back door and walked outside. It was very cold, but he did not feel anything. He felt only adreline and revenge coursing through his veins. He knew that in the front of his cabin were the people responsible for killing over 50 people in the St. Louis area, the people responsible for causing near riots over class, gender, and race, the people who killed his family, the people who had tortured him, these were the people who were trying to end man kind as he knew it. He circled around the house, giving a wide birth so he would not alert Isaac and his crew. He circled slowly until he was behind them. He was carrying a silenced pistol and, if things went bad, the AK-47. He got behind them and began watching them with the night vision goggles. He could see them clearly in the green hue of the goggles. He noticed that two were hanging back as the others walked towards the house. When the others got far enough in front, he took aim, and shot the two who were left behind. He had been a marksman in the marines, so the shots

were no problem for him. The only sounds was the spitting of the pistol. The only thing that he saw was the cloud of blood exploding as the bullets hit their heads. He immediately moved again so he would not be seen. As he walked up, he saw they he killed two men he did not know. If they were with Isaac, however, they deserved to die a much longer death than he had given them. He hoped that John and Retteb were doing what he told them. If this was going to work, it was important that Isaac did not know that they knew he was around. He continued following the group. He could see Isaac, Greyling, Bryan, Anthony, and Jeremiah. Issac was leading the way with Greyling at his immediate right. Anthony and Jeremiah were in the back. All with guns drawn. Inside the house, John had crawled so he was behind the front door. Retteb was still sitting at the kitchen table, pretending to clean guns. As Isaac and crew got closer to the door, Retteb got up suddenly. Antony and Jeremiah jumped, assuming that they had been spotted. Greyling and Bryan walked up to the door, preparing to open it. Right then, Amouri fired his weapon twice. He killed the two men in the back, Anthony and Jeremiah were both shot in the heads. Greyling and Bryan, however, saw it this time. They watched Anthony and Jeremiah fall, both with one half of their heads blown off. Isaac now knew that the people in the house knew he was out there. He did not know how they knew, but he didn’t car any more. He told Greyling to kick in the door. Greyling looked back, pulled his gun, and kicked the door. It flew open, hitting John in the face who was hiding behind the door. Greyling rushed in after kicking the door down, and he was immediately shot in the back of the head by John, his head blown clean off. Bryan watched that happen and considered hanging back, but, instead he also ran in. He knew John was back there so he snuck in quietly. Behind them, Amouri was walking up, trying to get a shot on Isaac, if only to divert his attention from the house. As he was walking, though, he stepped on a stick and it cracked. Isaac heard it, and turned around. He saw Amouri and his goggles. He started walking quickly towards Amouri. He approached him and grabbed him with his right hand. With his left hand, he pulled the pistol from Amouri’s hand. He lifted him up by his throat and looked directly in his eyes. Amouri, accepting his fate, looked down at Isaac and said “do what you will, I want to go home.”

With that, Isaac dropped Amouri to the ground, and snapped his neck like a child breaks a small stick. The sound was horrifying, but Amouri did not feel anything. He was dead before his body hit the ground. Isaac then turned his attention to the house. He began walking towards the house. Bryan had not been killed. He saw Retteb, but Isaac had already told them he could not touch them, let alone hurt them. Retteb was trying to keep his attention from John who was trying to circle behind Bryan. Unfortuantely, it was not working, Bryan took had his gun out, and was pointing it, not at Retteb, but at John. At that moment, Isaac walked in the front door. He saw Retteb, and said “you can’t stop me. You don’t have the capacity to stop me. Your poor excuse for a human is not going to succeed. You can’t defeat me. Nobody can defeat me. I am the One. Not you John. Not you Retteb. Not God. ME!!!” John, at the moment, knew this was his only chance. If he did not make a move now, he was never going to get another chance. He took a step towards Retteb, who understood immediately what he was doing. John’s hand was behind his back, grabbing for the crucifix that was in his belt. He felt it in his hand, and slowly pulled it out of his belt. He had no idea if this was going to work. He had no confidence that he could pull this off. John was a regular guy. He was married. He had two children. He had a boring job. He was normal in every way. He never had seen himself as extraordinary. He had a belief in God that was no stronger than a lot of people. He simply did not believe he was special. He was just a guy. As he stood there, looking at this man in Black, he knew that this was it. Was he going to freeze and do nothing, or was he going to make a move. He made a move. And it didn’t work. What he hadn’t seen was Isaac watching him. He didn’t see what he needed to see. As he pulled the crucifix out, he quickly tried to throw it at Isaac. He flew the air, end of end, right towards Isaac’s heart. For a moment, he thought it was actually going to work. Isaac saw it and moved at the last minute to his right. The crucifix hit him, but it hit him in the left arm. As it entered his body, it burned in such excruciating pain that he fell to his knees. Bryan, shocked that Isaac had even been hurt, began to panic. Once he saw the look of sheer terror on Isaac’s face, he thought about running. In the end, though, his brain quickly reminded him that he had not come this far to run away and be a failure. He was going to do this.

He aimed his pistol at John and fired. Isaac, who was still screaming, looked on approvingly as the bullet struck John in the right shoulder. John knew the problem. He had nothing else that would kill Isaac. If he could not get the crucifix, he was out of luck and out of town. Retteb, at that moment, sprang out of his chair and bounded around the room. He reached out and grabbed the crucifix from Isaac’s shoulder and tossed it back to John. John was bleeding from his shoulder and it hurt more than he though anything could hurt. The pain was deep and it made him want to curl up on the floor and give up. Bryan took aim again. This time he did not intend on missing. Simultaneously, he rared back, ready to throw the knife again. He threw it at the same time that Bryan fired the gun. The bullet entered John’s chest just to the left of his heart. The bullet, though, tore threw the aorta and vena cava. Immediately, blood began rushing into his body cavity. John knew that he was not going to survive this. The knife was thrown off line, just enough because of the gun fire that he missed his target. Isaac was hit with the knife, but again it only hit him in the arm. Again the burning pain was excruciating, but he was going to survive. He couldn’t pull the knife out of his arm. He would need Bryan for that. Bryan had done exactly what he needed him to do. He had saved Isaac, and now Isaac would take care of Bryan. Retteb looked on the scene with pride, disgust, amusement, and concern. He knew that John was now dead. He had been the person that he thought could stop His plan. He had assumed he was the one. He was proud of the two humans he worked with. He was proud of Father Gary who died so that nobody knew where they were. He was proud of Amouri for giving his life so nobody could hurt John. He was proud of John, who thought of himself as just a normal guy, who rose to the occasion to stop something horrible. Retteb was also concerned. He knew that He was still alive and that He was not going to stop until July 3, 2010. Retteb had 7 months to find somebody who else who had the power. If he didn’t then evil was going to triumph. Evil had never triumphed before. For thousands of years, God’s will had always prevailed. Now, though, humans were already close to discounting God. They were making it easy on Him and Satan to bring about the end of days. It was not time, though, and he needed to find somebody who could help.

Retteb had left the house immediately after giving the knife back to John. He watched as the bullet hit him in the chest. He watched as the crucifix missed its target and he knew there was going to be trouble. Retteb needed to find somebody who could do what John could do. He needed to find The One.