Chapter 7

 Afraid of the dark

     Darkness enveloped almost every inch of the old building, and surrounded James and Amber like swaddled infants in blankets of a swallowing hungry void. James took Amber by the hand, and proceeded to crouch forward out of the room, her hand was slippery with sweat, and shook. "You, you can't make me go out there, down there in the darkness," she revealed. "What are you talking about, we have to get out of here, get to the authorities, I thought I could handle this psycho myself, but I was mistaken, I kicked that asshole enough times to knock him out, but when I turned back, he was gone, we have to get out of here as quickly as possible." James pulled on her hand, but she pulled away and sank back into the small room. At one time, by the looks of it, it was used by custodians to store cleaning supplies for this level. Except now the shelves were empty; grime and spider webs filled their place.

"Amber," James whispered. She did not answer back.


    The Man heard a few scuffles echo on the upper floor. The darkness was his, his place to hide, unseen. He walked over to his long workbench, where he kept all his sterile tools under a long sheet of clear plastic. He hated dirt, germs, filth, the sheer grotesqueness of his facade of being a transient was , no less just as obversely genius as it was repugnant to him. No one could ever suspect him, not when he went to such obsessive lengths to hide his identity. He knew James had found the dirty whore, the human waste. He lifted the plastic, and grabbed his shiny brand new Tiemann saw. He gently replaced the plastic to where it was.

    The Man shut off the lamp, and the elongated shadows that rested upon his equipment, and the carcass of the blond snoopy reporter disappeared back into the nether-realms.