Thread:Rocketlauncher22/@comment-29711200-20160922031821/@comment-26234016-20160928212055

It's so hot, I can practically see the tumbleweed...

Thomas thought he had a fair sense of humor, chuckling at his joke. But when it came to his job, you needed a hit of light to keep you sane, that's what his father always said.

While life in Salem had always been unstable, he had caught wind that the two biggest groups in Salem had gotten uneasy over the sudden arrival of what could only be called a monster. One of Thomas' best friends, Edward, had had his sister, Lydia, killed, her head almost surgically seperated from his neck.

Thomas hadn't really been paying attention that day, just cracking the same jokes that he always made. But he had a job, and he knew he had to do it. He made his way to his house, just like everyone else.

--- William walked back to his house. It was a little late to be going to bed, but from the looks on people's faces each morning, there were more important things than sleep.

It was a nice house, a shack if you wanted to be honest about it, but it was home. As William opened the door, a blunt object struck the back of his head, and he sunk to the front steps.

William opened his eyes. He was tied to a chair in his main room, where he cooked and read. He was able to make out a figure standing in front of him.

"You're awake, I see. Had a good sleep, William?"

"Wh- What?"

"You've been making some strange house calls, William. I'd like to know just what it is what you've been doing."

William grit his teeth.

"I- I- Are you suggesting that I killed Mary?"

"No. Are you?"

"N- but- NO! I'd never- I've never killed anyone!"

"Then what's with the gun I found? And there's only one group that requires as strict attire as that suave blazer you happen to be wearing." A chuckle from the outline.

William sat up straighter. This person knew. Time to drop the front.

"Doesn't matter what you find, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scary. What can you do, because I highly doubt that you have the guts to kill me."

"Doesn't matter what I can do," said the man (because it was definitely a man's voice) "But what the town does when you are put on trial for treason against the town. And you do know what the punishment for treason is, right William?"

"I will find out who you are, and I will shoot you and I will shoot you until your dead body is splayed out on the ground and I will shoot you again until I run out of bullets-"

"Have a nice life, Mr. Phips."

--

Thomas chuckled as he walked back to his house. Some people were so easy to manipulate. Although he knew that William hadn't killed Lydia, Lydia hadn't been the only murder. Mary had been a close friend of Thomas.

Suddenly there was a rustle. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure. His heart leapt. Had the mafia finally come for him?

No. This person was alone, and weaponless. In fact, Thomas thought he knew this person...

"Giles? Is that you?"

Thomas' reply was Giles unhinging his mouth impossibly wide to show row upon row of serrated teeth. Giles closed his mouth. Then he smiled.

Thomas threw up his hands to protect himself, but Giles had already closed the thirty-foot gap impossibly fast. Thomas closed his eyes, his will to resist gone, as his blood was drained from his body.

William was confused. The day had gone and went, and then another, and no one had acted any different. No one was revealing his secret, no one was calling him out. Although only he and Lydia, or Edward as people called her now, remained, he was reasonably sure that he could return Salem to the grip of the mafia.

As he left Abigail's house, gun smoking, he spotted a figure. All kinds of bad memories returned. He tried to steady his gun, but it was pointless. By the time he had a lock on this person, the person was in front of him. An impossibly wide grin was on its face.