# chapters

path: 111111221122112221112221
author_id: smitch69
title: Doubtful Spell, and Mom's Little Hell
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Sean sits cross legged on the floor, the Libra in his lap. He's tracing the words of the new spell with his finger and silently mouthing the Latin, and then stops. "I don't like the look of this," he says as the colour drains from his cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
You sit and take the book from him, and lines crease your brow as you translate it. "Looks the same as the last one," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah that's what I thought, but look at the ingredients."<br/>
<br/>
You look through the list quickly, recognising most of the items. "We've got all we need, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"No." He leans over and taps an item on the page.<br/>
<br/>
"Vivere corpus? That's a live body," you gulp. Sean nods solemnly, taking the book from you. "Fuck!" you whisper under your breath.<br/>
<br/>
He turns back to the title page. You look over his shoulder at it, and the faces that adorn it seem to gloat and twist. Sean shifts uneasily and puts the book face down on the floor, gently pushing it away with his foot. "Will, I'm not sure I trust this book,” he says, pulling his knees up to his chest.<br/>
<br/>
“Don't worry, I’ll go through it again and see if I can work out what the spell does,” you reply, putting it into your back pack. <br/>
<br/>
“Do we need to go any further? We have a lot of cool stuff we can play around with.” Sean starts to list the items counting them off on his fingers. “A mask of you and me, a handful of mind bands, oh and Jack's band. Three blanks, a mask of Russo and that monstrosity over there,” he says waving vaguely at the golem that’s still wearing Russo’s clothes.<br/>
<br/>
You shrug, “don’t you want to see what other spells there are?” You look over at Prescott and try to reason why your double has suddenly become so wary of the book. “Look I gotta go, I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” you mumble before leaving not bothering to wait for a reply.<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
You’re jerked from your sleep by the vision of a stone golem creature with its hands about your throat; its cold soulless eyes boring down on you—it’s wearing Russo’s clothes. You throw the bedsheets across the room and spring to your feet; crouching you eye the room trying to collect your thoughts. The crooked shadows cast in the half lit room does nothing to quench your anxiety. You catch a glance of yourself in the mirror and Sean's own face cast in cold grey stone stares back; you jerk with shock only to wake—again.<br/>
<br/>
Beads of sweat pepper your skin, and you wipe your brow as you untangle yourself from the bedsheets. It’s 6am, and you feel reluctant to close your eyes again, so you shower and go downstairs to make a start on breakfast for you and your mom. It’s not long before she joins you and sets the table. She looks tired and drawn with dark circles that ring her eyes, you try to remember the last time Sean heard her laugh or see her smile—but you can’t.<br/>
<br/>
You fix some French toast and coffee, and sit opposite each other at the table. You take a sip of coffee; it's too hot so you blow the froth chasing it around the mug. You glance up and see your mom watching you intently; for the first time in a long while you see her smile softly at you as if she’s remembering something from the past. “What?” you say with a chuckle.<br/>
<br/>
She pauses for a moment, then goes to the pantry for some syrup. “I’m sorry, Taylor used to blow on his coffee like that,” she says. <br/>
<br/>
You walk over to her and give her a hug, “I miss him as well.” You take her hand and lead her back to the table. “Now finish up your breakfast, you know I make the best French toast,” you say with a wink.<br/>
<br/>
When you're both finished you clear the plates whilst your mom looks out the window. “You got something on your mind?” you ask.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s Taylor’s friend,” she replies.<br/>
<br/>
“Scott Bickelmeir?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, he was parked outside the house again yesterday.”<br/>
<br/>
“Wait, he’s been to the house?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ve seen him parked a few times, when he knocked on the door I was scared a little so I didn’t answer it,” she said with a tremble in her voice.<br/>
<br/>
Your nostrils flare, and you feel a heat twist up inside you. “I’ll go see him, make sure he never comes around again,” you say through gritted teeth.<br/>
<br/>
She turns and places a hand on your shoulder. “Sean, I don’t want you getting into trouble--just talk with him, tell him he's not welcome here, please.”<br/>
<br/>
“Sure mom, just talk,” you reply smiling tightly.<br/>
<br/>
You give her a reassuring hug before leaving for school with the sole intent on <i>talking</i> to Scott Bickelmeir<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
You keep your eyes open as you move between classes in the morning. You know you have a Psychology I class with Bickelmeir in the afternoon, so you're only mildly annoyed when you bump into your double before lunch.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey Prescott, you got a couple of minutes? I need to talk,” you say.<br/>
<br/>
He looks between you and Caleb, who’s sorting through the contents of the locker that he shares with your double. “About work?” Prescott replies in a neutral tone. You shrug.<br/>
<br/>
There’s a groan from the locker. “Just go! I don’t want to hear about it,” Caleb grunts.<br/>
<br/>
You grab Prescott by the sleeve and drag him to a quiet spot. “Bickelmeir’s been at my—" you catch yourself, “your place. Your mom said he was parked up outside the house, the fucker even knocked on the door—shook her up a bit,” you say under your breath.<br/>
<br/>
Sean’s hands tighten into fists, and he stares at you from hooded eyes. “You <i>spoken</i> to him yet?”<br/>
<br/>
“No, I haven't found him yet,” you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Sean jabs at your chest. “Fix it. Mom doesn’t need this.”<br/>
<br/>
You raise your hands. “Look, I’ve already said I would.”<br/>
<br/>
“Make sure you do, otherwise I will,” he growls and walks off.<br/>
<br/>
You’re shouldered heavily and turn to see Lester “The Molester” Pozniak—one of the low-ranking bullies. “What's the matter, Mitchell, lovers tiff?” He says with a grin. You stare hard at him; not blinking. Sean’s presence is sufficient for Pozniak to try and pass it off as a joke before leaving muttering under his breath and pushing other students aside.<br/>
<br/>
You hang out with Cameron Huber over lunch, as it's possible Bickelmeir will turn up for any news about tomorrow's football practice. Cameron is talking about Gordon Black again, and you just nod although you’re not really paying attention. You think you see Bickelmeir, and you bob left and right to see past the quarterback who turns to see who you’re looking at, but its just another student.<br/>
<br/>
Cameron sucks on his lip. “What’s going on, Sean? You’ve not been listening, and jerking around—who are you looking for?”<br/>
<br/>
“Bickelmeir, that fucker has been hanging around my house and worrying my mom.”<br/>
<br/>
Cameron raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? Why?”<br/>
<br/>
“How the fuck should I know,” you bark at Cameron and storm off.<br/>
<br/>
You continue a fruitless search, which just leaves your last class.<br/>
<br/>
You make your way to your Psychology class and glance over at the other students but Bickelmeir is nowhere to be seen. You drop into a seat next to Ethan Nieves, who nods his chin. “Where’s Bickelmeir?” you mumble.<br/>
<br/>
“Scott? Pfft, he skipped class, said he had something to take care of,” he snorts.<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck! You got his mobile number?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, why?”<br/>
<br/>
“Just shut up and give it to me,” you growl. “Now!”<br/>
<br/>
“OK, chill big guy,” Ethan replies. "Jeez, what's he done anyway?”<br/>
<br/>
You hold out your hand and beckon with your fingers. “Just give it to me.”<br/>
<br/>
He writes it down on a loose sheet and stuffs it in your hand. “Go knock yourself out.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, something like that,” you sneer.<br/>
<br/>
Class finishes and you leave to find yourself some space to make that call, but you’re just out the door when you feel a tug on your arm; its Cameron. “You still looking for Bickelmeir?” he asks, and you nod. “I saw him heading out." He looks at you with a keen eye. “If I tell you which way he went, you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? Don’t give me reason to put you on the bench. You understand, Sean?”<br/>
<br/>
You sigh and nod. “Just tell me, Cameron.”<br/>
<br/>
He scratches the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve just seen him heading out towards town.” Your lip curls and you slap him on the back and head for the parking lot. He calls after you. "Don’t do anything stupid, Sean.”<br/>
<br/>
You’re sure you can catch up with Bickelmeir; it’ll be better to confront him face to face but you have no real idea where he’s going, it might be better to call him and give him a piece of your mind—or Sean’s.</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122212
author_id: smitch69
title: Send in the Substitute
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You figure you'll never find him. He's got a good head start, especially after Cameron called you back and insisted on talking about Gordon Black--again. Cameron is smart, and you realise that he was just delaying you so you didn't do anything you'd regret.<br/>
<br/>
You call the number that Ethan gave you. Bickelmeir answers after a couple of rings. 'Sean?' He asks, there's a note of surprise in his voice.<br/>
<br/>
'I'm not going to fancy this up Bickelmeir, you've been out at my house. My mom has seen you, and you're worrying her'she doesn't deserve that,' you growl.<br/>
<br/>
There's silence for a moment, and then you hear an engine start, and pull away. 'Fuck, you'd better not be there now, because if you are'' He hangs up on you, and you have to blink in disbelief. "Fucker!" Your face flushes as you redial. It goes to voicemail, and the heat of Sean's temper explodes. 'THAT FUCKING MOTHER FUCKING'FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!'<br/>
<br/>
Other students are looking at you, and you glimpse Lester Pozniak grinning. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, thinking of kittens and puppies as you get into your pickup. You try to calm down as you drive to Salopek, it won't look good if you turn up to work in a foul mood.<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
By the time you arrive at Salopek you've been able to push the anger down, and you're only left with a trace gnarly feeling in your stomach.<br/>
<br/>
You see your old pickup and pull in next to it, and you take a moment to peer through the window. Sean's cleaned up; thrown out all the used soda cans, and burger wrappers that littered the interior. <i>So much for keeping in character</i> you mutter to yourself as you make your way to where the lockers are. You change into work clothes, and go to find your double. The distribution centre is a good place to start as Jack always has something for the pair of you to do.<br/>
<br/>
Through the small window in the door you see a skinny teenager, which you've no trouble recognising as yourself. He's nodding at someone you can't quite see while slowly rocking back and forth nervously. You enter the key code to the building, and he turns briefly as the door buzzes to let you in. You round the corner and pale as you discover it's your dad. "Mitchell nice of you to join us," he says in an impatient tone looking at his watch.<br/>
<br/>
"Uhh sorry sir, had to sort out a family crisis. It won't happen again," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
He grunts an acknowledgement. "I've been telling Will that Andy and Jack are attending a seminar today after reviewing the break in a couple of weeks ago,' he pulls a sheet of paper from his clipboard. 'Andy left this list of tasks for the both of you, make sure you get it done.'<br/>
<br/>
You take the list and study it for a moment. "No problem sir," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Sean's eyes follow your dad as he leaves, when he's out of sight he turns and asks about Bickelmeir. You tell him you've spoken with him but leave out the fact that you suspect he was outside the house at the time. He doesn't seem entirely satisfied, so you change the subject to the next spell. He's not happy about that either.<br/>
<br/>
You both work through the list of tasks, it doesn't take long. While Sean is finishing off you get the Libra from your locker. Returning to the distribution centre you find a quiet spot, and sit cross legged. As you flip through the Libra the old Salopek booklet falls out'Sean must have tucked it in there yesterday. You look at the new spell and compare it with the previous one. You have to read it several times, it's all very vague and open to interpretation, but finally you convince yourself that there might be a way to skip the need for a living person.<br/>
<br/>
Sean joins you picking up the booklet and flips through it. 'Do the ingredients in the book match with what's in here?' He asks, and you nod. 'That's weird," he says shaking his head. "Have you found out anything about that new spell?'<br/>
<br/>
'Yeah, I think I've figured out a way around the whole living human thing,' you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Sean's face brightens. 'How? I thought it was quite explicit.'<br/>
<br/>
You tap your nose. 'I'll tell you when we get back to the clubhouse; I wanna check something first,' you say with a grin.<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
At the clubhouse you pick up Danny's mask planting it on the golem. Danny reappears with a shocked expression almost falling off the table.<br/>
<br/>
'So tell me about this idea you have,' Sean asks cautiously eyeing the Danny-golem.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh and hook your thumb, 'Move it Danny.' His eyebrows flick, and he jumps off the table. You open the Libra, and flip between the two spells. 'Look at this,' you say to Sean who taps at the book where it mentions the living human. 'Yeah, look at how much dirt is needed for a golem; about four hundred pounds. The new spell only needs a fraction of that.'<br/>
<br/>
'Just forty pounds, with the remainder made up by a person?'<br/>
<br/>
'Exactly.'<br/>
<br/>
'OK, so what are you getting at?'<br/>
<br/>
You beckon Danny over, and get Sean's pocket knife. 'Hold out your hand,' you tell him. You grasp his thumb tightly and draw the blade across its top.<br/>
<br/>
He jerks his hand free. 'Yow! Why did you do that? It really hurts,' he cries with a miserable look on his face.<br/>
<br/>
'I'm sorry Danny.' You take his hand and show Sean, 'See he's bleeding, just like a real person.'<br/>
<br/>
The Danny-golem frowns. 'Fucker,' he mumbles as blood drips on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
'OK, open up Danny,' you say mimicking a goldfish. The golems mouth drops open, and you stick his thumb in. 'And close,' you smile. His mouth snaps close, and he starts to suck on his thumb.<br/>
<br/>
'Yeah, he's not quite real though,' Sean adds pointing at the blood spots on the floor; they're rapidly disappearing.<br/>
<br/>
'Close enough,' you shrug. Danny grins at you with his thumb still in his mouth.<br/>
<br/>
'So he's your substitute?'<br/>
<br/>
'Yeah, you got a better idea?' You reply.<br/>
<br/>
'Not really, but are you sure you want to try it anyway? I don't trust the book, feels like its playing with us; like we're on a hook and its slowly reeling us in.'<br/>
<br/>
You dismiss his concerns, and tap at the book. 'Need some of your hair as well,' you say. Sean pulls a few hairs from his scalp and lays them on the table, and you're not surprised when you see them disappear. 'Get the mask off, we'll need some of your real hair.' He nods and sits in a chair removing your mask, Danny watches him closely as he slumps forward and returns to his original form.<br/>
<br/>
You start to copy out the required sigil on some paper, it's about ten minutes before you hear Sean coming around. 'Holy mother of'' you hear Sean yell. You turn and see Danny is right in Sean's face. Sean pushes the golem away. 'Get the fuck out of my face you idiot.'<br/>
<br/>
You put the traced sigil on the table. 'Danny, come and lay on the table,' you say patting its surface. The golem lopes over and jumps on the table.<br/>
<br/>
'You sure you want to do this?' Sean asks.<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. 'Yeah. Why not?'<br/>
<br/>
Reluctantly Sean scatters grave dirt over the golem along with the other ingredients. Danny's head pops up, 'Is this going to hurt?' he asks, but you ignore him. Sean pulls some hairs from his head and drops them onto Danny's chest. Danny's head pops up again, 'You know what you're doing right?' You just nod pushing his head down.<br/>
<br/>
Sean joins you, and you strike a match and flick it onto the mound of dirt; there's a flash of white light and the dirt explodes into a cloud which covers the Danny-golem in a fine coating. <br/>
<br/>
The creature that lays on the table lets out a gasp. 'Phuuuuh!' A cloud of white ash escapes its lungs and drifts weightlessly in the air above its head. It lets out a low groan, it's head turns to look at you; its ashen white'its bright blue eyes stare at you unblinking.<br/>
<br/>
You feel Sean grab your arm pushing you behind him. 'What the fuck is it?' he hisses over his shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
'How the fuck should I know,' you mutter. The creature rolls off the table dropping to its feet. It's jaw drops open and it groans something. It holds out a hand and stumbles towards you.<br/>
<br/>
'Fuck Will I told you that book was bad news, it's made a zombie or something. Shit, look it's still burning,' Sean says pointing at the creature.<br/>
<br/>
'What?' It says looking down at its smouldering vest. 'Fuck!' It yells and frantically pats the flame out. It looks between you and Sean and grins. 'I guess it didn't work,' the Danny-golem smirks.<br/>
<br/>
Sean lunges for Danny's throat and bears down on him. 'Don't you EVER try any pranks like that again, because if you do I will quite happily rip you apart!'<br/>
<br/>
'It was just a bit of fun, chill out big guy,' he stammers. Sean growls something and pushes him away.<br/>
<br/>
'Just clear up this shit Danny,' you tell the golem. He gives you a salute and starts to clean up. Sean has his back to you, but even so you can see it shook him up a bit. When the mobile in your pocket rings he turns to look at you, he still looks pale.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222121
author_id: smitch69
title: Judge and Jury
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The ash from the spell's explosion is still settling over the table--and over the Danny-golem who's turning in circles trying to brush it off. Sean gives a sigh, and heavily slaps the golem's back and shoulders with a grin on his face restoring him mostly to his original colour.<br/>
<br/>
You grab the ringing mobile, and recognise the number. "Sean, it's your mom." You answer the call. "Hi mom, what's up?" You say cheerfully. "Oh, you reply and hold your hand over the mouthpiece. "It's Bickelmeir," you whisper to Sean. "He's at your house again, she sounds really upset."<br/>
<br/>
"Tell her I'll be over there in ten minutes. Tell her to stay inside," he growls. You relay the message reassuring her as best you can, and hang up.<br/>
<br/>
"Bickelmeir is really pissing me off, mom doesn't need this. I need to make him understand you don't mess with the Mitchell family. You with me?" He asks. You know much its been upsetting his mom so you have no qualms helping. "You too," he says to Danny.<br/>
<br/>
He walks towards the door, and you have to pull him back. "Sean, you're not wearing a mask. There can't be two of us out there."<br/>
<br/>
Sean stabs a finger in your chest. "I don't give a fuck. You wanted someone for the next spell, well, Bickelmeir just volunteered. It might need two of us to keep him under control--or keep me from killing him."<br/>
<br/>
You know that Sean is placid, and good-natured almost all the time. But there are times when his bottled up anger just bursts through the fissures inside him. This is one of those moments, and you believe it's probably wise to keep his mask on.<br/>
<br/>
As you're walking to the pickup Sean holds out his hand. "Keys, Prescott," he says sharply, and you hand them over. <br/>
<br/>
Danny sits between you and Sean, and you look nervously out the window wondering if you'll be helping Sean or protecting Bickelmeir when you arrive. Glancing over at Sean, you can see his eyes are focused, lines furrow his brow. By contrast Danny has a goofy grin on his face and bobs his head to some unheard music.<br/>
<br/>
As you turn the corner you see Bickelmeir's pickup; he's sitting in the cab, leaning out the open window and watching the house. Sean pulls up short so not to alert him of your arrival, and you all get out. "I'm going in to see mom, make sure she's OK," Sean whispers. "You and Danny go talk with him, make sure he doesn't leave." He ducks around the back of the house.<br/>
<br/>
You nudge Danny. "Come on, you take the passenger side. Make sure he stays in the cab." Danny jogs along behind as you walk up to the pickup. <br/>
<br/>
"Bickelmeir, you son of a bitch," you growl into his face. He jerks back in his seat, and you reach to take the keys from the ignition. "I told you not to come around here again. You're not welcome." <br/>
<br/>
"Sean," he stutters. "Look I'm not doing anything wrong. I was just parked here. Fuck! Why are you doing this? It's hard for me as well you know." He glances over at the passenger window as Danny's face comes into view, and he gives you a sideways look. "What the fuck's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Bickelmeir, I tried to talk with you. Asked you nicely," you say through gritted teeth. "But here you are--AGAIN." He pushes at the door, trying to open it and finally you let him. He stands up confidently in front of you.<br/>
<br/>
He reaches for his keys, but you snatch them away. "Stop messing around, just give me my keys," he moans.<br/>
<br/>
You see Sean walking towards the pickup, and grin, holding up the keys. "You had your chance Bickelmeir," you say, jabbing him in the chest. "You need to be taught a lesson."<br/>
<br/>
"Bro', there's something I need to--”" <br/>
<br/>
Sean interrupts him with a tap on the shoulder. He turns and his mouth drops open. <br/>
<br/>
There's a burning fury in Sean's eyes, and without warning Sean hits him with an uppercut. An unconscious Bickelmeir topples back into your arms.<br/>
<br/>
"Fucker," Sean spits. He locks his eyes onto yours. "Mom was in tears," he says in a quiet and firm voice.<br/>
<br/>
You have to take a deep breath, and it's not from the exertion of holding up Bickelmeir. <i>The kind of person who would frighten a woman that badly--even if unintentionally--after having been warned off ...</i><br/>
<br/>
"I've no more patience for this prick," Sean says. "Let's make it clear to him once and for all."<br/>
<br/>
You each grab a shoulder and take him back to Sean's pickup. You call out to Danny, and throw him the keys to Bickelmeir's pickup. "Follow us back."<br/>
<br/>
You wedge Bickelmeir between the two of you as blood drips from his busted lip. In the door mirror you see Danny following you in the other pickup.<br/>
<br/>
Bickelmeir lets out a groan; from the corner of your eye you can see he's licking his lip and then wipes at the blood with the back of his hand. He works his jaw and you feel him shift in his seat. "Keep the fuck still," Sean growls. He turns to look at Sean, who just glances at him. "Sit back," Sean growls again. Bickelmeir turns to you, but you ignore him.<br/>
<br/>
"Sean? Taylor?" He croaks.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut the fuck up, Bickelmeir," Sean shouts brandishing a fist in his face. "Don't make me silence you again." His head drops, as he wipes at his lip again.<br/>
<br/>
"Shit. I'm fucked," Bickelmeir mumbles.<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
Nothing further is said during the drive back to the clubhouse, and when you arrive you order him out and frog march him into the building. Danny's not far behind. Sean tells him to sit on the table. He wipes at the grey ash on its surface, "what's this shit?"<br/>
<br/>
"None of your fucking business," Sean retorts.<br/>
<br/>
Bickelmeir shrugs. "So what now? You going to keep beating me? I know Sean--better than you think, and he's not like this. Sean's a good guy, but he's got issues." He taps your friends forehead, but he bats it away. "Keeping everyone happy, listening other people's problems; but you've never been able to tell others about your own problems, so you keep bottling them up, and pushing them down. There was only one person you could talk to; Taylor and--"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut the fuck up!" Sean growls.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, something weird is going on here--you both look the same."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, we're twins," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
"No, you're not. I know Sean and Taylor, but you're both EXACTLY the same, and neither of you are Taylor," he replies looking between the two of you.<br/>
<br/>
Sean glances at you, and pushes him with his fingers. "You shouldn't talk about my brother like that. He was more of a man than you'll ever be."<br/>
<br/>
"Was? So you admit this isn't your brother then?" Bickelmeir grins.<br/>
<br/>
Sean's face twists, knowing he's been tricked. "I'm bored with your talk, Bickelmeir. You've been following me around ever since-- since Taylor's death. You're sick." Sean's lip curls as Bickelmeir holds up his hands. You watch as Sean tenses, his fist balls and with a single punch Bickelmeir falls back on the table. Sean snaps his fingers at you. "Get the dirt."<br/>
<br/>
You pile it up on Bickelmeir's chest as Sean empties the last of the fuel over the mound. "You're going to answer to me, you prick," he growls pulling some hairs from his head and throwing them on the dirt.<br/>
<br/>
Sean strikes a match, and holds it. You look a the blood that's dripping from Bickelmeir's nose, pooling on the table. There's not as much as you'd expect.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112221211
author_id: smitch69
title: Throw the match
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Sean strikes the match, and looks at the unconscious Scott Bickelmeir laying on the table. His brow furrows; he mutters something under his breath, but you don't catch it. He looks at the match; the flame dances, and he seems transfixed for a moment. "Fuck it! This ones for mom," Sean says in a whisper, and throws the match.<br/>
<br/>
The match arcs gracefully, as if in slow motion. The moment it touches the mound of fuel and dirt a purple flame engulfs Scott. Its heat is sufficient to make your eyes water, and both you and Sean have to turn away, and moments later the flames are unnaturally quenched.<br/>
<br/>
Almost immediately Scott sits up, seemingly unaffected by the heat and flames. His eyes are wide and he looks at you. "What the fuck is going on?" he yells. He licks his lip, and wipes away the blood with the back of his hand. He looks over at Sean; his face twists in shock, and then he sags.<br/>
<br/>
"You're my slave right?" Sean mutters, looking at Scott through narrowed eyes. Scott nods sullenly. "I want you to keep away from my house, and stop stalking my mom. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
Scott tips his chin. "Why would I want to hang out at your house? Look, Mitchell, I liked your brother. What happened to him really sucked, he was a good kid,” he replies as Sean's lips tighten. “But us? We’ve got fuck all in common. You never liked me, and to be honest the feeling is mutual.”<br/>
<br/>
Danny drops Scott's keys on the table. "What the fuck are you doing with those?" Scott snarls, snatching them.<br/>
<br/>
"So why were you at the Mitchell house?" you ask Scott.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you blankly, and returns his gaze to Sean. "Answer him," Sean growls.<br/>
<br/>
Scott looks down, and frowns. "I don't know. I just stopped there--I don't know why."<br/>
<br/>
"Stop fucking me around, you tried to talk to my mom as well. What did you say?"<br/>
<br/>
Scott shrugs. "I don't remember."<br/>
<br/>
"Just get the fuck out of my sight, and stay away from my family," Sean barks. You both watch in silence as Scott jumps off the table and leaves.<br/>
<br/>
"You think he's faking it?" you ask Sean.<br/>
<br/>
"No, he knew I was his master even though you and me look the same," he replies.<br/>
<br/>
You pick up the Libra and try and turn the page. "Fuck, we forgot to unlock it after that last spell."<br/>
<br/>
“It’s not important, we can do it later. It looks like that one turns people into slaves like the golem," he replies, nodding at Danny. <br/>
<br/>
You look at the time on your mobile. "It's late, I should go let your mom know she won't be bothered by Bickelmeir anymore."<br/>
<br/>
Sean puts your mask on and slumps on the table, and it’s not long before your double comes around with a groan. “Damn, it doesn’t get any easier. I should go as well. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” You stuff the Libra into your bag and leave as your double locks up the clubhouse.<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
It's Friday, and something feels different, and you realise it's the fact that Bickelmeir isn't under your feet. Before the spell he always seemed to be following you around.<br/>
<br/>
At lunch you join some of the other football players; you take a seat opposite Cameron Huber and Ethan Nieves (who ducks to the side to see around you), shortly after Marcus Johnson joins the group. Between mouthfuls of burger, Cameron talks about the troubles he’s having with some of the other players. He mentions the Hall brothers and Dalton Douglas; you add Erik Carstairs to the list and Cameron snorts an agreement. He mentions Scott—who is the teams wide receiver—and you choke a little on your chicken burger. “Sorry, Sean, forgot about the problems you’re having with him at the moment," Cameron says.<br/>
<br/>
You wave a hand as you take a gulp of soda. “No worries, I think we’ve sorted that problem out now,” you gasp. Ethan looks over your shoulder again, and you look to see what's holding his interest. Scott is sitting at the alpha table. He’s got his arm around Eva Garner—one of the cheerleaders—and you feel a heat flush your cheeks as you see him whispering something in her ear. She laughs and pushes at him but he pulls her back in, tightly kissing her cheek, and you feel your fist clench. You look at Ethan again, whose eyes are searching the yard. “You looking for someone?” you ask.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, Patterson. I’m supposed to call Scott if I see him,” he sniffs. Your mouth twitches into a smile as you see Patterson approaching over Ethan’s shoulder, but say nothing. Marcus's mouth opens but you elbow him, and his mouth snaps shut.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson leans over, draping an arm over Ethan and Cameron. “Afternoon ladies, how’s that bunch of pussies you call a football team working out?” Patterson asks Cameron.<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck off, Patterson,” Cameron spits. “Go and annoy someone else before I make you.”<br/>
<br/>
You look over at the alpha table, and Patterson follows your gaze. “What the fuck is he doing over there?” Patterson growls, pushing Cameron away as he strides over to Scott. You smile tightly as Patterson grabs Scott from behind putting him in a head lock. Patterson's cool grey eyes glance around the rest of the tables as he says something to Scott and punches him in the kidneys a couple of times. Scott buckles a little as Patterson releases him, pushing him away.<br/>
<br/>
Scott returns to your table, rubbing his side, and sits next to Ethan, and glares at him. “Thanks pal, you where meant to warn me if you saw Patterson," he snaps.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't see him until it was too late," Ethan stutters.<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes lock on Bickelmeir, and you half smile at him. "What the fuck are you looking at, Mitchell," he says through gritted teeth. <br/>
<br/>
"You should know better then to go after Eva. Patterson's been tailing her all week. Besides she likes a bit of muscle," you say, flexing a bicep.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, maybe. But don't even think you've got a chance there, Mitchell. You'll only be a friend to someone like her; someone to rely on because you're the 'good guy'," he sneers. "Boring old Sean, a shoulder to cry on, but never anything more than that." Cameron tells Scott to shut up, but he continues anyway. "You know girls, they want the bad guys; a bit of rough. Look at Black and Patterson, hottest girls in school at their beck and call. Black has Chelsea, and Patterson practically any girl he wants. What have you got?"<br/>
<br/>
You know he's right, and deep down you know Sean knows this as well. A familiar heat burns in your chest and you snap a hand out and grab Scott's shirt and your face screws up. You're just about to punch him in the face when Cameron pushes you back down into your seat.<br/>
<br/>
"Sean, chill out man. Save it for practice later."<br/>
<br/>
You glare at Cameron, and flip the tray with what remains of your lunch in Scott's direction. "You're on borrowed time, Bickelmeir," you bark at him, and stride off.<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
You've been in a foul mood all afternoon, and you're looking forward to football practice to get some of the tension out of your system. As you walk towards the gym you feel a tug at your sleeve. It's your double. "Have you got the book on you? I need to look at the ingredients again," he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's in the pickup. I have got the Salopek pamphlet though," you reply unzipping a pocket in your bag. "Hey, I thought you didn't want anything more to do with the book."<br/>
<br/>
"No, I don't want to go any further. I think we've got enough already. But I think that slave spell we used on Bickelmeir worked like a charm. We could use it on Black, and stop him giving Cameron stupid ideas," he explains. <br/>
<br/>
You suggest it might be worthwhile trying it out on some of the more troublesome football players as well. He glances over the pamphlet and stuffs it in his pocket. "I'm going to be late for work," you add. "Cameron's got some new plays that he wants to go through. Can you tell Andy?"<br/>
<br/>
Sean chuckles. "It won't be a problem. I can swing past the clubhouse and get the fake--drop your mask on it. I'll go as myself and we can pick up some ingredients." He pauses for a moment, and taps your chest. "But if your fake starts fucking around again, then I swear he'll be walking back to the clubhouse," he says with a laugh.</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122212111
author_id: smitch69
title: Continue
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>After warm up Cameron splits the guys into groups--defence and offense--and runs them through some of the new plays. Scott shows little interest, and joins a small knot of players talking with Carstairs. Cameron has to ask him a couple of times what's wrong, as he's normally a team player.<br/>
<br/>
After two hours of heavy practice, you shower up. It's normally a rush to get to work, but today you have time to spend with Cameron. You go over the new plays and he's interested at some of the suggestions you put forward. Conversation turns to the small knot of players that had little input to the afternoon. You suggest trying to break them up, and not having them on the field at the same time, perhaps even trying them in new positions.<br/>
<br/>
You're enjoying yourself, until he mentions Black again. "He thinks I'm too soft on the team," he mutters. "I need to crack some heads and squeeze some balls, he says."<br/>
<br/>
"Cameron, it's just a few of the guys. Why inflict Black's bully tactics on the whole team?" you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Cameron rubs the stubble on his chin. "I need help, you could be like Patterson," he says looking at you. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth being compared to Patterson; something that must be evident in your expression as Cameron starts to back-peddle, saying he meant you to be like a co-captain, and you shrug.<br/>
<br/>
There's a beep-beep from your phone. It's Sean. The message says they've got the stuff, and they're leaving work. You reply saying you'll see him at the clubhouse soon. As you leave you give your friend a friendly slap to the back and tell him you'll think about the co-captain position and let him know.<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
You're driving back to the clubhouse thinking about what Scott had said. You like Sean. Hell, you like being Sean, and you glance at your reflection in the rear view mirror. But for a big jock he doesn't get a lot of action. Sure, girls will walk along with him, enjoy the reliability and strength, but they will always return to the Pattersons. You sag a little at one of Sean’s memories: a date with Jessica Hamilton where she tenderly rested a hand on his chest and told him 'you're just like a brother to me'. You sigh and think how Cameron is so lucky to have a girlfriend like Anne. She'd be perfect for Sean.<br/>
<br/>
Your thoughts are broken when you see a lone figure jogging alongside the road; an unusual sight for this area. You slow down and when you are closer you see it's Danny Russo. You suspect that the fake had been trying your friends patience.<br/>
<br/>
You pull over and open the door. "Get in you idiot," you say. He looks at you blankly. "Come on, get in I don't have all day." He stands there for a moment. "You do want a lift, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, where we going," he finally replies, getting inside the cab.<br/>
<br/>
"You can be so dense sometimes, Danny. We're going back to the clubhouse."<br/>
<br/>
"We're going to a club," he repeats. "Awesome." As you drive back to the clubhouse, Danny starts to play with the controls on the dashboard; first the AC and then the radio. He finally sits back and is content with looking out the window, bobbing his head.<br/>
<br/>
When you arrive your old pickup is already there. Danny looks out the window at the old elementary school building, and seems a little disappointed. You have to practically drag him out of the cab, and push him through the doors, but then he stops abruptly. "Come on Danny, get a move on," you growl. losing your patience. <br/>
<br/>
It's not until you get inside that you realise what's stopped him in his tracks. Inside there is another Sean Mitchell, who looks very pale, and standing next to him is a second Danny Russo with a huge grin on his face.<br/>
<br/>
You half expect the Danny standing next to you to freak out, but to your surprise he walks over to his double and bumps its fist. "Fuck, this is awesome, are these robots or something?" He asks, looking between you and Sean.<br/>
<br/>
You look over at Sean, and his eyes widen. "Idiot," he mouths at you as he shakes his head. You look back at the real Danny and bite your lip. You've gotten to know Danny through the golem, so you know he's a bit of a space cadet, but to so easily suggest and accept the possibility you've created robots? "Uh, yeah," you stutter. "Robot-me and, uh, robot-you," you add as you indicate the two doubles. Sean's expression grows even more pinched.<br/>
<br/>
Danny slings an arm around his double and takes a picture with his phone as the other Danny grins widely and flips the bird. Before you can stop him he sends the picture. "This will freak him out," he laughs. You ask to see the photo, and you delete it. He's sent the picture to someone called Noah, and you cuss under your breath.<br/>
<br/>
Sean sighs heavily and rubs his temple. "Fucking perfect," he grumbles under his breath.<br/>
<br/>
You lock your eyes onto Danny. "This is important, these robots need to be kept secret," you say as calmly as you can, and throw the mobile at the golem. "Give this Noah guy a call and tell him it was a joke or something." The golem nods and makes the call.<br/>
<br/>
"Aw man, I bet he was freaked out right?" Danny asks the golem as it hands him back the mobile. You look over at Sean, who shakes his head. It's a safe bet he's finding this just as bizarre as you.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. He said one Danny was enough," he says with a laugh. "Hey bro, have you got your kit? I need to play some LAX, they’ve got shit here.”<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's in my car. Charlie borrowed it, and I forgot to get it."<br/>
<br/>
You look at the golem. "Charlie is Danny’s brother," it says.<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes narrow as you look at Danny. "Do you think you can keep this a secret?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Whatever," he replies with a grin on his face. He pulls at the golems vest. "That's real old, man, I can get you one of this year if you want."<br/>
<br/>
Sean catches your eye and signals you to get them out of the clubhouse. "OK, you two go outside. Danny--" They both look at you and you roll your eyes. "Real Danny, tell us what you think of the, erm, robot." As they pass you grab the arm of the golem. "Make sure he doesn't leave or use his phone again," you whisper in its ear. You look over at Sean after they’ve gone. "So, you have any bright ideas on how to fix this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Firstly, why the hell did you bring him over here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought he was the fake. You'd said you'd make him walk back if he played up," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck, Will, all I would have had to do was take its mask off, and besides I'd only just put Danny's mask back on the golem,” he groans. "I don't think Danny can keep a secret like this. I think we'll have to use the spell again and make him forget all about this. But seriously, I think we should stop now this is starting to get out of control. I really don't trust the book."<br/>
<br/>
You dismiss Sean’s concerns and tell him to get the ingredients ready. You call the Dannys back in, and as they've both removed their vests there is no way to tell them apart. You face palm yourself as the two grin equally wide smiles. "OK, which one of you is the fake," you mutter. Both Dannys raise their hands. You roll your eyes, and try again. "OK guys, really funny. OK, point to the real Sean Mitchell." One Danny points at you and the other points to the other Sean. "Ah-hah!" you yell, and grab the arm of the Danny that's pointing at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Aww bro, you fucked up," the Danny you have a hold of whines.<br/>
<br/>
"No, that's the real Mitchell," the golem says still pointing at Sean.<br/>
<br/>
You pull the Danny you have a hold of to the table and dump him on it holding down his shoulders. "Fake! Get hold of his feet," you yell at the golem.<br/>
<br/>
The golem's eyes go wide. "You're not going to hurt him are you? Fuck!" The golem says while the real Danny struggles. Sean starts to empty a container of dirt and fuel over Danny before plucking a couple of hairs from his head and dropping them on Danny's chest.<br/>
<br/>
"Three. Two. One," Sean says and you both release Danny as Sean throws the match. The same purple flame knocks you back, but as the smoke clears you hear Sean gasp. "Fuck, Will, what's happened?" <br/>
<br/>
Laying on the table is Danny, but he's got a grey, dusty coating. The three of you look at his face, he's just like the stone golem, but there is more detail in his features, and it looks like he's sleeping.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my god!" the golem cries. "You've killed him!"<br/>
<br/>
You look at Sean. He's gone very pale again. "Shit! I told you this book was bad news, it’s changing the rules," Sean exclaims. "This didn't happen to Bickelmeir. What's so special about Russo? Why did this happened to him?" Sean bites at his nail.<br/>
<br/>
"Or what's special about Bickelmeir," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Sean sits at the table, his head in his hands. "We've got more problems than Bickelmeir laying in front of us here. We need to fix this shit first," he groans.<br/>
<br/>
You're pretty sure the answer to what's happened lays with Scott.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222121111
author_id: smitch69
title: Deal with it!
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The fake is looking into the face of the golemised Danny. Occasionally it will look back at you with a pained look on its face. "Is he dead?" It asks uncertainly.<br/>
<br/>
You touch the book to the golemised Danny, and it unlocks the next page. You study the text for a moment then hand it to Sean. "Well it explains what's happened to Danny," you say in a solemn voice.<br/>
<br/>
Sean glances over the page, rubbing his brow. "So it worked as it should on Danny. What the fuck happened to Bickelmeir then?" Sean asks. You shrug, you have your suspicions but it's so far fetched you need to check something before suggesting it to Sean.<br/>
<br/>
The golem tugs your sleeve. "What about Danny? Can you fix him?”<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry. The book doesn't say how to restore him. At least not yet."<br/>
<br/>
Sean stands up with a resolute look on his face. "I'm not going to let this damn book beat us," he says confidently. "Fake Danny, I'm going to give you a job, a very important job. I need you to look after the real Danny." Sean says pushing the golem into a chair, and removing its mask. "It's the only way to fix this fuck-up," he says to you. "We owe it to Danny to restore him as soon as we can." You nod.<br/>
<br/>
Sean places the mask on the golemised Danny. His stony grey complexion vanishes, and he sits up. "You'll need to look after the real Danny now," Sean says patting his chest. "He's in here. You understand?"<br/>
<br/>
Danny rubs his chest. "You mean he's inside me?" Danny asks, and Sean nods.<br/>
<br/>
"But don't tell anyone about this right?" You tell Danny.<br/>
<br/>
Danny looks towards Sean. "Is that right? Keep it a secret?" He asks Sean, who nods.<br/>
<br/>
You wonder why it's asking Sean. "Who's your master Danny?" you ask, and he nods at Sean.  "I guess that's because you used your own hair in the spell."<br/>
<br/>
"Ok, do whatever Prescott tells you as well," Sean says to Danny, and he gives a little salute. "You better go home now." He jumps from the table and leaves.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll have a look at the next spell," you say as you drop the Libra in your bag. You check the time on your mobile. "It's too late to get Bickelmeir over here. We'll have to pick him up tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
Sean shrugs, and puts your mask to his face. You shake him roughly back into consciousness. "Come on, get your shit together Sean--wake up."<br/>
<br/>
As he rises, rubbing his temples, he catches sight of something behind you; you turn, and find Danny pushing his face up against the window. "I forgot that Charlie's got my car," he bleats. "Can I get a lift home?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug and gesture him to follow you. He says little on the drive back, his hand not leaving his chest--for a golem, he appears in deep thought, until you pull up at his house. Then he looks at you with a huge grin. "Home finally. Don't worry I'll look after the real Danny."<br/>
<br/>
*******<br/>
<br/>
You pull up next to your old pickup in Salopek's parking lot. It's Saturday morning, and you still need to track down Scott Bickelmeir. You find your double changing into work clothes in the locker room and after changing yourself you both make your way to the distribution centre.<br/>
<br/>
But the keypad code on the door doesn't work." Are you using the right number?" your friend asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course I am," you mutter. "Pile of shit," you growl and hit the keypad with the heel of your hand a few times.<br/>
<br/>
"Reel in that temper, Mitchell." You jump and turn to see Prescott senior standing behind you. He jabs at the keypad, and the door unlocks with a buzz. The person who looks like Will Prescott pokes you in the ribs and frowns as you follow your father into the building.<br/>
<br/>
"Did they change the pass code?" You ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, there was another break in last night." He doesn't amplify as you both follow him to the rear of the building.<br/>
<br/>
One of the secure storerooms is open, and Jack is peering inside, where a large pane of glass in the row of windows that's set high in the wall is being replaced. The heavy shutters that normally seal the room are buckled and twisted outwards. "Damn, is anything missing?" You ask Jack.<br/>
<br/>
"That's for you to check," Jack says, pushing a large printout into your hand.<br/>
<br/>
The workman finishes replacing the glass, and he's escorted out of the building by your father. Jack tries to close the shutters, but can't pull them all the way down--a gap of two feet remains. "That'll have to do until they're fixed," he mutters, and returns to the front desk.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the buckled doors again and suck air in through your teeth. "Shit, I'm glad I wasn't around to face whatever did that."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you think it was after?"<br/>
<br/>
"You heard Jack. That's for us to check."<br/>
<br/>
But even after hours of checking the inventory you find nothing missing. Only some packages on the dead mail shelf seem to have been moved.<br/>
<br/>
*******<br/>
<br/>
You find a quiet place and call Bickelmeir. "It's Sean," you say when he finally picks up. "Where are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Work. Why the fuck are you calling me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I want you back at the school basement."<br/>
<br/>
"Well you can want all you like," he growls and hangs up.<br/>
<br/>
"Fucking idiot." Your lips peel back, and you shove the mobile at Sean. "You call him, he's not listening to me."<br/>
<br/>
But Sean's call goes through to voicemail, and at Sean's suggestion you call Ethan Nieves to find out where Bickelmeir works.<br/>
<br/>
*******<br/>
<br/>
The game of phone tag ends after work with you following Sean out to the Ansell car dealership, where Bickelmeir works.<br/>
<br/>
It makes sense: Scott and Taylor were always working on some car together. The memory corkscrews painfully in your mind; Sean was always jealous of the amount of time his brother spent with Scott.<br/>
<br/>
Raised voices echo in the showroom as you enter: Someone--an irate customer, apparently--is shouting at an overweight older man in a suit. You watch as the younger man pushes his hands through his long black hair with frustration. "Mr. Russo," the older man says in a neutral tone. "We're waiting for parts. It's out of our hands."<br/>
<br/>
Your ears prick up at the name, and you look more closely at him. He has a stocky build with black eyebrows, his grey eyes bore into the older man. "I want it fixed. I bought it three months ago and you've had it four times now," he snarls. You remember that Danny had lent his own car to his brother yesterday, and suppose this must be Charlie.<br/>
<br/>
Then you're distracted by a chirpy receptionist. "Can I help you?" You ask where you can find Scott, and she directs you around the back of the showroom to the workshop. As you walk through the large steel gates, Scott spots you. "What the hell are you doing here, Mitchell? First you tell me to leave you alone, and then you come chasing after me like a bitch on heat."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck off Bickelmeir. You just need to do what you're told."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah? Who's going to make me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I am," Will Prescott says fixing a hard stare on Scott as he walks up next to you.<br/>
<br/>
Scott's face twists into a frown. "Whatever."<br/>
<br/>
"I want you at the school basement," your double mutters through gritted teeth. You see bitter resentment in Scott's eyes, but he agrees to meet after work.<br/>
<br/>
*******<br/>
<br/>
When you arrive at the clubhouse, Sean's temper has worsened and he frowns darkly. "What went wrong with Bickelmeir?" He growls as he paces the room.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure, I want to check something first," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
He stops and looks at you, his frown deepens. "Just fucking tell me."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure Bickelmeir is even real," you stutter.<br/>
<br/>
"What the hell are you talking about Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think he's wearing a mask, like you and me. When we brought him back here his nose was bleeding, but look there's no blood here."<br/>
<br/>
Sean goes quiet. "A mask? You think there's another book?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't fucking know, that's why I wanted to get Bickelmeir over here," you growl. You frown at Sean, and he scowls back. There's an awkward tension that's only broken when the door opens and Scott Bickelmeir walks in.<br/>
<br/>
"So I'm here, now what?" Scott groans. Sean clicks his fingers and points at the table. Scott sighs and sits on it, his back to Sean.<br/>
<br/>
You reach for Scott's face, but he bats your hand away and swings a punch that you block easily. "Don't fight him, do what he says," Sean orders, and Scott sags.<br/>
<br/>
Sean is biting his lip, and after the accident with Danny you wonder if he's going to be able to take on board what you might find.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112221211112
author_id: smitch69
title: Rediscovered Treasures
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Scott Bickelmeir stares hard at you. Over his shoulder, you see Sean still brooding.<br/>
<br/>
You stare back at Bickelmeir unblinking and frown. You're still wearing Sean's mask, and you feel a tightness in your chest as your friend's contempt for him struggles to surface. Even now you suspect this person isn't real, but just someone wearing a mask.<br/>
<br/>
You'd both found him at the Mitchell house yesterday, he'd been bothering Sean's mom. Your friend had lost his temper, and Bickelmeir had ended up with a bloody nose. At the clubhouse, you'd tried the next spell--it needed a living person, and in the circumstances the interloper was the perfect candidate. <br/>
<br/>
At the time, you'd noticed little evidence of any stains from Bickelmeir's bust nose, and you'd remembered that blood would quickly disappear for those wearing a mask. But before you could say anything Sean had thrown the match and cast the spell.<br/>
<br/>
So it’s with trepidation you grasp at Scott's face. Your thumb nestles near his eye; fingers find rest in front of his ear, and around his jaw where you feel the roughness of his stubble. <br/>
<br/>
You glance at your friend, his face remains emotionless. "You really want to find out?" Sean nods slowly.<br/>
<br/>
"This is fucking gay, I'm Scott Bickelmeir," he mutters from under your hand.<br/>
<br/>
You murmur the release spell and pull at his face. He can only let out a grunt before--as you suspected--you’re left with a mask in your hand.<br/>
<br/>
You gasp trying to find air in this sudden vacuum. Now you wish--oh so much--that you'd been wrong about the mask.<br/>
<br/>
"No! No--" Sean's voice trails off. He stumbles around the table to join you staring into the face of the person sitting in Scott Bickelmeir's clothes.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm so... so sorry," you whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"How could this of happened?" You've no answer to his question. Sitting on the table is Sean's twin brother Taylor, his features etched in grey stone. You look at the mask in your hand; the name <i>Scott Trey Bickelmeir</i> floats in its interior.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, barely understanding how hard it must be for your friend. Months earlier he'd lost his father to cancer, then his brother in a crash. It had been hard for him, and his mom. To discover that Taylor was so close--all this time, and then he'd unknowingly sacrificed him with the last spell.<br/>
<br/>
Sean kneads his forehead. "How could this happen? Taylor died in the wreck, we--we buried him." He rubs his eyes. "And here he is--I can't believe I've lost him again."<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever happened might be in here," you say holding up the mask. "One of us should put it on."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes fall on the mask, and he grimaces. "I should do it."<br/>
<br/>
Sean lifts the mask to his face and crumples into unconsciousness. You grab him and rest him against the table. "Come on, wake up," you mutter roughly shaking your friend. He groans, and Scott's grey eyes flick open. He looks at you for a moment and pushes you away. "Sean, are you in there?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks at the golemised Taylor, and his lip twitches. "Yeah, I'm here," he growls.<br/>
<br/>
"So? What's in the mask? What happened?" you ask as he sits.<br/>
<br/>
His eyes dart left, and right. "It happened back in August. I-- he was working with Taylor, and Sawyer Harrison. That kid in a coma?" You shrug, the detail isn't important. "We got bored in distribution and went through the dead mail shelf. We found a box--it was already open. Inside--," Sean blinks and looks you in the eye. "Will, they found some masks, those notes I found in Taylor's room and a notebook. Sawyer and Scott got fired the next day for getting drunk--the idiots. They all got together at Eastman that weekend, to go through the stuff we found."<br/>
<br/>
Your brow furrows trying to keep up with changes in point of view. "Just keep to Scott's perspective," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
He rubs the heel of his hand against his head. "We used the masks on each other. I blanked out for a bit, and then--then we were laughing. Taylor was wearing my clothes. Then it got serious and scary. Sawyer tried another mask, but--but something happened, and we couldn't wake him. Then I was pulling at my face," he shakes his head. "We tried to pull at each other’s faces, but that didn't do anything either. We hid what remained of the stuff in the basement and called 911--they took Sawyer away. Then we left, and that was the last time I saw Taylor." <br/>
<br/>
Sean mutters the release spell, and pulls Scott's mask from his face, you catch it as it falls from his hand. You wait a couple of minutes, and shake him awake. "I'm not sure how helpful that was," you sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"It's fucked up, that's what it is. It's always fucked up when that book is involved," he growls but you’re not listening.<br/>
<br/>
"Where did these masks come from? Why were they in that box at Salopek?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks at Taylor. "If there's anything it'll be on the computer," he sighs.<br/>
<br/>
"We've got part of the puzzle." You tap Taylor's brow, "The rest is still in here."<br/>
<br/>
Sean turns to the Libra on the table. "There's got to be something in here to reverse the spell."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe, but we won't find out unless we continue," you reply. "We need to get Scott back into circulation, he can't just disappear." You start to offer up the mask to Taylor's face, but Sean stops you.<br/>
<br/>
"I want to keep Taylor here--just for a while."<br/>
<br/>
"OK, we can do that," you reply and plant the mask on your golem dressed in Danny's old clothes.<br/>
<br/>
The fake Scott jerks with surprise. "What the fuck's going on?" It pulls at the vest it's wearing, "What the?" He sees Taylor. "What have you done?" he growls looking between you and Sean.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," you bark. The fake scowls at you and studies the golemised Taylor.<br/>
<br/>
You rifle through the pockets of the shorts Taylor's wearing to retrieve Scott's personal items and mobile. "Make sure you stay in touch and follow orders from both of us. Right?" you order shoving the items into Scott's hands. He responds with a grunt. "You understand?" you reaffirm.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I got it, you shout, and I jump," Scott snarls.<br/>
<br/>
"You got it, now go." You both watch him leave.<br/>
<br/>
"We should get going, have a fresh start tomorrow," you say reaching for the Libra, but Sean puts his hand on it, and you feel like he's claiming it.<br/>
<br/>
"I want to look through it, see if I can figure something out," he replies.<br/>
<br/>
"No offence Sean, but I've probably got a better chance of finding something," you suggest pulling at the book.<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a pinched look. "I want to. Wouldn't you feel the same if it were your brother?"<br/>
<br/>
You look between Sean, and Taylor, and let him keep it. He's right if it was your own brother--even though he's a little shit sometimes--you'd do all you could to restore him. "Don't worry we'll fix this--somehow."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, <i>we'll</i> see you tomorrow," Sean mumbles.</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122212111121
author_id: smitch69
title: Rediscovered Treasures--continued
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It’s Sunday morning, and you've barely been able to sleep. You look around Taylor's room as you call your old mobile; it rings for a while and goes to voicemail.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor's room hasn't changed since his death--you choke on that thought, he's not dead at all. You swallow hard as Sean's memories of the funeral blister to the surface. The marbled pink headstone, spreading its massive wings. The yawning pit, barely concealed by the polished casket. His mom weeping quietly as the minister conducts the service. If it wasn't Taylor, it had to be Scott Bickelmeir under a mask--you sigh and shake the nightmare from your mind.<br/>
<br/>
Sean's mom has been working late, so you leave a note on the table while you grab some toast and wonder where your friend might be--you bet he'll be at the clubhouse.<br/>
<br/>
********<br/>
<br/>
It was a good guess, at the clubhouse; you find your old pickup. Inside Sean is slouched on the table asleep, his hand rests on the golem-Taylor. It looks as if he's been there all night. You give the table a cursory glance; some zip-lock bags, paste in a bowl, a couple of masks and the Libra. You tug at Sean's shoulder. "Come on big guy, wake up." He groans and sits up rubbing his eyes. "You've been busy, thought you didn't want to go any further with the book."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't, but we can't just stop--not now," he replies in a cracked voice, shifting uncomfortably. "What happened here," he rests a hand on the table. "We didn't have the right to do it; not even to Bickelmeir—it's immoral. Karma's a bitch and look what it's done."<br/>
<br/>
"Sean, I'm not sure about Karma, but it would make an amazing story." He gives you a sour look; you wilt a little and change the subject. "So show me the spell you completed last night."<br/>
<br/>
Sean flips through the Libra and smoothes the page he completed last night. He describes it as a combination of the mask, and golemisation spells, and then mutters something about how the order of the spells could be better.<br/>
<br/>
He shows you a mask--it's yours, but its interior is dull and grey like the golem. You frown and run your fingers across its ashen surface. You ask if he's tried it on, he nods, but says he didn't notice any difference.<br/>
<br/>
You pick up a zip-lock bag, it’s labelled <i>Sean</i>. "What's this?"<br/>
<br/>
"A bunch of hair clippings, it saves taking the mask off each time. You just add some hair to the paste, and use it on the inside of the mask, it works like the golem spells," he replies and shows you another bag with <i>Will</i> written on it.<br/>
<br/>
"For a jock, your pretty smart sometimes Sean."<br/>
<br/>
He forces a smile, "Only sometimes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we're both going to have to be smart to figure this out. I don't think the book is going to give up any secrets willingly."<br/>
<br/>
You turn to the next page in the Libra, or what's left of it. The lower half has been ripped out, and the text revealed shifts in and out of focus. You stare at it, but after a while, you start to feel dizzy and have to look away. "What about this ripped page, where's the rest of it?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"It was like that when I released it," Sean replies and you frown. "I'm not shitting you Will, that's how I found it." He scratches his head, "I don't understand it, can you have a look? It's not a good start is it?" You say nothing and sit at the table.<br/>
<br/>
Through half closed eyes, you squint at what remains of the page. It suggests the use of a modified memory band but offers little help beyond that. "It's got to be a test; it's making it difficult so only the most determined people will solve it." <br/>
<br/>
You both start to retranslate the spells you've already discovered. You've often thought the spells appear unhelpful, but you begin to realise they've been crafted in such a way to trip and lead the less skilful into failure.<br/>
<br/>
********<br/>
<br/>
The autumn day fades to evening and your friend calls Scott to bring over some food. He arrives and dumps the paper bags on the table holding out his hand for the cash, but you suggest that he doesn't mind paying and he accedes. He's about to leave, and you tell him to wait, and you point at a chair.<br/>
<br/>
As you stuff fries into your mouth, you decide to leave Sean to cross-reference the spells while you turn your attention to the sigils. From the beginning, you've only cursed them for being so complicated, but now you realise how important they are to the Libra's magic.<br/>
<br/>
You've been working on the Libra most of the day, and your eyes feel heavy. As you stare, the elaborate sigils begin to shift and move as if they're alive. You tip your head; half closing your eyes and watch as the curlicue designs unravel like a serpent searching for prey. In their intricate designs, you begin to see similarities between them, the raw code that makes them work.<br/>
<br/>
Absent-mindedly, you trace the shapes with a finger and feel a familiar prickle; you yelp and snatch your finger away. A line of crimson blood highlights the intricate design, and slowly fades. You close your eyes but still see the sigils. Your breathing slows; dizziness wraps your mind, it feels like its detaching from your body.<br/>
<br/>
Something distant and muffled pulls at your consciousness. "Will! Snap out of it," the voice is more determined, and you're shaken to your senses--it's Sean. "Are you OK? You've been out of it for a couple of minutes."<br/>
<br/>
You look at your hands, and the sigils in front of you. "I'm not sure; maybe we should wrap it up for the day."<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't even started looking at the ingredients yet," Sean frowns.  <br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to lie; this isn't going to be easy. It's going to take time to figure out--tomorrow's Monday and we've both got school and work."<br/>
<br/>
Sean kneads his head again. "I can't give up on Taylor," he pleads.<br/>
<br/>
"And I'm not giving up on him--or Danny, but neither of us can take time off easily," you say looking over Sean's work, he's been very methodical--a trait you recognise.<br/>
<br/>
Your attention is drawn to the mask again, and you thoughtfully study its grey interior. "If someone puts this on I'm guessing it'll turn them into something like Taylor--only underneath the mask. When it’s taken off, it'll restore them back to normal as the coatings on the mask rather than the person."<br/>
<br/>
Sean nods, "Sounds reasonable, but--"<br/>
<br/>
You continue. "I doubt any memories from the mask will update the person wearing it unless they've used their own hair in that sealing paste."<br/>
<br/>
Sean sighs and thinks for a moment. "It must pull memories into the mask, but with the new coating can't push them back. The hair disables that and the master can use it just like a regular mask."<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, it's a way to get the original out of the way." <br/>
<br/>
"Devious," Sean mutters, but sags looking between Taylor and the book. "We need more time to work this out, we're just guessing at the moment."<br/>
<br/>
"We could put my mask on Taylor, he could fill in for me while we take turns working on the Libra," you suggest.<br/>
<br/>
"I would rather Taylor wore my mask Will," he replies biting his lip. You ask him why, but he doesn't give you a hard and fast answer. You sigh, and sit at the table and remove Sean's mask.<br/>
<br/>
You wake scratching your straw like hair, and look down at Sean's clothes that hang off your rangy frame. You flinch with surprise when Sean clips some hair from your head and puts it in the bag with your name on it.<br/>
<br/>
"This is some mixed up shit," Scott mutters, he's been quietly watching from the corner of the room.<br/>
<br/>
Sean puts his mask on Taylor, and instantly he's looking at himself. A confused look sweeps across the golem-Sean's face as he explains about Taylor. The golem looks at Scott and frowns, and then its eyes shift to you--in particularly the loose clothes that hang off you.<br/>
<br/>
You feel awkward, and swap clothes. Your friend tells the fake-Sean to go home and check on mom.<br/>
<br/>
Sean wants to take the first shift to look through the research, you're glad he offered as you're totally drained from studying the sigils.<br/>
<br/>
You could return to your old life, it would be good to see your family again. However, you'd be going in blind, you couldn’t use your own mask because of the golemised coating.<br/>
<br/>
The alternative is to step into Scott's shoes and put your own mask on the golem.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222121111212
author_id: smitch69
title: From Good, to Bad
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You look at the dull grey interior of your own golemised mask. You know if you put it on you won't have any will of your own, or remember anything until someone takes it off again. "I can't even find out what you've been doing for the past week," you whine.<br/>
<br/>
Sean reorders the loose sheets of paper on the table--the notes he's made from the Libra. "Nothing much happened," he answers, "just wing it.<br/>
<br/>
You convince yourself that it'll be easy; after all it is your life. "Oh, I've set you up with Umeko--cinema on Wednesday, just don't screw it up for yourself," he adds and you pale slightly. You know you'll freeze or say something stupid--you always do. Maybe if Sean handles the first few dates it'll be easier and she won't notice any screw ups.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, maybe I can find out something about Taylor by being Scott," you say--it's a lousy excuse. <br/>
<br/>
Sean's mouth briefly twitches into a smile as he gazes into space for a moment. "You need to be more confident," he tells you.<br/>
<br/>
"Easy for you to say," you mumble in reply. <br/>
<br/>
He chuckles. "Can you be here tomorrow to look through the notes and see if that new spell can help us?"<br/>
<br/>
"I suppose," you reluctantly reply. "So if I can't be me, I'll have to be Scott then."<br/>
<br/>
"Good choice," the golem chirps--he's been sitting quietly in the corner. "You're a dick; I'd hate to be you."<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," you bark and Scott's mouth snaps closed. You recite the release spell and pull off the mask, then plant your own on the golem. The grey figure shifts into your double and blinks in surprise. "Get your stuff from Sean and go home." He sits there for a moment, "GO!" you shout. He flinches, and looks towards Sean.<br/>
<br/>
"Come over here," your friend says in a quiet voice, and your double trots over obediently. Sean pulls your keys and mobile from his pockets and hands them to the fake-Will, as your twin leaves he gives you Scott's personal items.<br/>
<br/>
You say nothing and sit down before offering Scott's mask to your face.<br/>
<br/>
********<br/>
<br/>
You hear yourself breathing. Slowly you open your eyes and squint at the overhead lights. You wince and rub your neck, Scott's recent memories bubble up and surface immediately. "You gonna pay me for that food I got you?"<br/>
<br/>
"You agreed to pay for it," Sean replies sharply.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but I need the money," you reply, and then the memory becomes clear. Will Prescott had told you--Scott Bickelmeir--to pay for the food. At the time you'd said nothing, but you'd needed the money for gas.<br/>
<br/>
Sean stares at you, unblinking for a moment. A muscle twitches in his cheek. He takes some bills from his pocket and holds them out. "This should cover my share," he tells you, but he doesn't look at you anymore.<br/>
<br/>
You take the cash and stuff it in your pocket. "Don't freak out on me Sean. You know it's still me in here," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh, it doesn't mean to say I have to like Bickelmeir."<br/>
<br/>
There's a silence that seems to hang in the air. "What did you find out about the next spell?" You ask changing the subject.<br/>
<br/>
Sean flips through the notes and pushes a sheet towards you. "I can't copy any of the translated Libra, but it says something about a modified mind band. I've listed the ingredients, and any similarities I can see with other spells."<br/>
<br/>
You recall the ripped page, and the revealed text that shifts in and out of focus. "Have you got enough to work on if I take the Libra with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Plenty," he replies.<br/>
<br/>
You take the book, along with Sean's notes. "You got some of those mind bands? I might need a few to experiment with tonight."<br/>
<br/>
He hands you a baggie with the bands in. "Jack's one is in there as well," he tells you.<br/>
<br/>
You stuff the Libra and bands into Scott's backpack. "Thanks, see you tomorrow." He doesn't reply, so you just leave.<br/>
<br/>
********<br/>
<br/>
You sit in Scott's pickup; it's a Chevy dating back to the late 40s. It looks like it's just crawled out of the scrap yard. Its blue paintwork's dull, and blemishes of rust skirts its wheel arches. It was a project that Scott and Taylor were working on through the summer, and why Sean hardly saw his brother.<br/>
<br/>
You turn the ignition and it starts first time. Although it looks like shit, the friends had spent a lot of time getting the pickup into a usable state. They'd planned to replace the engine with something more modern, something a bit more powerful. But recently Scott (or Taylor) had been distracted, visiting the Mitchell's household more often.<br/>
<br/>
As you drive back home, Scott's mobile--your mobile--bleeps in your pocket. You retrieve it and glance at the display. It's a message from Mindy McAdams--a friend Scott hangs out with. It's a reminder that he's meant to be changing the brake pads on her car tomorrow evening. The phone bleeps again, and the message goes on to say that she'll make him dinner as thanks.<br/>
<br/>
You raise your knees, holding the steering wheel in place as you use both hands to type a reply. <i>Cool cu--</i><br/>
<br/>
It's as far as you get before bright lights, and the blare of air horns fill the cab. Your head jerks up in surprise to see the full beams of a truck heading towards you. Dropping the phone you yank at the wheel, veering across the road and juddering to a halt. You sit there panting hard, your eyes wide, and your knuckles white from holding the steering wheel so tightly. You don't move for minutes, as you wonder if that's how the fake-Taylor died.<br/>
<br/>
Once you've regained your composure, you rake around under the seat for the phone. You finish the message and send it. You drive home cautiously and pull into the driveway.<br/>
<br/>
The house is dark; your parents must be out. There's a note on the door; <i>delivery arrived for you--Dad.</i> You pull open the garage doors and flick on the switch; the harsh light flashes a few times and brightens. On the workbench is a large box, stained with oil. You drop your backpack and rub your hands excitedly.<br/>
<br/>
Within minutes you're heaving the engine block from the box and lowering it on the bench. You spend some time examining the mirror like finish, tracing your fingers along the machined edges. One by one you place the valves into their respective positions and check and recheck their fit. It's not something that Will Prescott would be interested in, but it feels natural. <i>Taylor would love--,</i> the memory jars in your mind. You shudder pushing the thought to the side. You take a cloth, and wipe the oil from your hands. It's only now you realise the time--one o'clock in the morning. You groan thinking about school, leaving the garage you quickly shower and collapse into bed exhausted.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112221211112121
author_id: smitch69
title: Calculus and Curlicues
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're woken--not by the light which you forgot to switch off, but the smell of breakfast. Quickly you splash some water on your face and squirt some deodorant over yourself before getting dressed; a vest, a hoody and shorts. Your phone says 7:32; you curse under your breath as you jog downstairs.<br/>
<br/>
"Scott," there's a call from the kitchen. "Have you got time for breakfast?" your mom calls.<br/>
<br/>
You look at your phone again. "Fuck it," you mutter. "No sorry, I'm late already. You got anything to go?" you say as you put your sneakers on.<br/>
<br/>
Walking into the kitchen your mom holds out a paper bag. "Oh ace, thanks," you say taking it and peering inside. There's toast, crispy bacon in a napkin and some fruit. You stuff some toast in your mouth and tuck the bag under your arm before dashing out.<br/>
<br/>
You sit in the cab of the pickup; you've forgotten something--your backpack. You face palm and groan. You were meant to look at the next spell for Sean. Its 7:56, you quickly retrieve your bag and pull out of the drive; you hit the gas hard and head for school.<br/>
<br/>
Although you're late for your first class, the teacher shows little interest when you walk through the door. You spend the rest of the time doodling engines in your book until the bell goes. <br/>
<br/>
Its lunch time and as you make you way to the canteen you see fake-Sean at his locker, you stop and tug at his arm. "Have you got a moment?"<br/>
<br/>
He turns, his usual warm smile melts. "Get your hands off me Bickelmeir," he mutters as his eyes narrow.<br/>
<br/>
You release your grip, but lean in close. "Are you seeing the real Sean later?" you whisper. But before he can answer you feel a strong hand on your shoulder pulling you away. It's Cameron Huber.<br/>
<br/>
"Give him some air," he tells you. "He's told me about your visits to his house," he growls. "I'm kinda disappointed in you Scott. I think you should go." <br/>
<br/>
You look between fake-Sean and Cameron and leave. You'll have to talk to the fake later, and try to find out how Sean wants to handle tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
Somebody nudges you, turning you see its Ethan Nieves. "What the fuck was that about?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't look like it. I know you two have got issues, but you should just keep out of Sean's way," he suggests. "You going to get some food?" he asks. You shrug and follow the rest of the students to the canteen.<br/>
<br/>
After queueing you take your tray to an empty table, Ethan sits opposite. Over his shoulder you can see the fake-Sean, Cameron and Marcus Johnson. They talk and laugh although occasionally the fake's eyes will flick over to your direction.<br/>
<br/>
"Has the engine block arrived yet?" Ethan asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it turned up over the weekend, fitted the valves. Looks like a pro-job," you grin. You continue to describe the work you've carried out last night, and Ethan seems interested. Your new found enthusiasm is such that you don't even notice when Nathan and Kevin Hall sit at your table.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you talking about that pile of shit parked outside," Kevin snorts, his brother Nathan elbows him in the ribs.<br/>
<br/>
"How long will it take to finish."<br/>
<br/>
"Depends," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Nathan glances across to the other table and leans over, "What do you think of the new football plays Huber's got planned."<br/>
<br/>
"Weak," you reply drawing upon Scott's experience. "Defence isn't strong enough."<br/>
<br/>
"He couldn't run the team even if his life depended on it."<br/>
<br/>
"What a jerk. Built like a gorilla, but acts like a girl. I don't even know why he's the QB," Kevin adds.<br/>
<br/>
There's a lot of bitterness within the team, most of its source is at the table right now. "I can't even remember the last time we won a game," you grumble.<br/>
<br/>
"Must be at least six weeks," Nathan mumbles.<br/>
<br/>
You look at your friend who's quietly eating--he looks uneasy. Finishing your meal, you make an excuse to leave. Ethan looks at you, with panic on his face. He grabs his tray--his lunch still unfinished and follows you to the trash.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, I can't believe you were going to leave me there with those meatheads," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"You're not scared of them are you?" <br/>
<br/>
"No," he replies sternly, "they're jerks and they're just looking to make trouble, especially Douglas. I'm just glad he wasn't with them as well. Look, I like Cameron--he's trying hard, but it's those guys that are stopping us from winning."<br/>
<br/>
"You think that's why he's asking Black for help?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, I think coach Porter told him to talk to Black, you know get some tips on how to manage the team," he sighs. "Black's a psycho, his guys are shit scared of him."<br/>
<br/>
You nod in agreement and clap a hand on Ethan's back as you both leave for different classes.<br/>
<br/>
********<br/>
<br/>
The afternoon passes slowly, Scott's calculus class is at a remedial level, and it doesn't tax you to any great extent. To keep yourself occupied you return to doodling on a piece of paper where each rough sketch becomes more detailed with each iteration.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the design and realise what started as rough gears from an engine now look more like the complicated sigils from the Libra. As you idly finish one of the curlicues, the edge of the paper starts to lift; as if it's caught by a draft. It flutters looking like it's attempting to escape. You pin it down with your fingers and study it closely. <br/>
<br/>
It's not a design you recognise from the Libra; at least not wholly. It does however appear familiar in some way, and you wonder whether it's from Scott's memory, as you recall the box found at Salopek. Not only were there masks inside, but also handwritten notes and sigils--the ones that Sean used as a basis for his tattoo. Maybe the box still in the sub-basement at Eastman might offer clues as how to restore Danny and Taylor.<br/>
<br/>
Idly you send a text to your old mobile--just to get some insight on what's going on, but the response from your double is unhelpful. It dawns on you that Sean masters all of the fakes currently milling around the school, both Danny Russo and his own twin Taylor. Your own slave golem wears a mask which is also controlled by your friend--it's just coincidence you tell yourself.<br/>
<br/>
You're still pondering this realisation when the final bell rings. Under your palm the sheet of paper is still desperate to escape, so you push it into your backpack trapping it between the pages of the Libra. You don't have time to investigate it any further, there's Mindy's car to see, and you still need to talk with the real Sean about tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
You leave the school building for the parking lot; ahead you see the fake-Sean. You jog to catch up--you'll need him to pickup the notes from the Mitchell house, but you hear a shrill whistle. You turn to see Dalton Douglas, who's standing with the Hall brothers.</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122212111121212
author_id: smitch69
title: The Setup, and Recovery
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>A call comes from across the parking lot. "HEADS UP!"<br/>
<br/>
Turning you see a football heading towards you--fast. You drop your backpack, and take a step back catching the ball. Without pausing, you throw it from whence it came. The ball follows a shallow trajectory towards the group of football players. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the fake-Sean has reached his pickup—you really needed to talk with him. The opportunity is lost so you pick up your backpack and jog over to the group.<br/>
<br/>
"Nice catch," Dalton Douglas tells you, Nathan and Kevin Hall agree.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Mitchell you pussy. Where you going? Wrestling with your tutu wearing buddies?" Douglas yells. The fake-Sean just sticks a middle finger in the air. "So what’s up with you and that jerk?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's been talking--behind my back. Now Huber’s giving me grief, and being a dick."<br/>
<br/>
"Thought you were one of his golden boys.”<br/>
<br/>
"I like football, I'm just sick of losing games," you mutter ignoring his taunt.<br/>
<br/>
"Team needs new blood at the top," Nathan says. <br/>
<br/>
"Is there something going on?" You ask. "I know he's been talking to Black."<br/>
<br/>
Douglas sniffs. "The coach told Huber to get help from Gordon to manage his team."<br/>
<br/>
"So tell me something I didn't know."<br/>
<br/>
"How about he's got two more games to get a win, otherwise he's out."<br/>
<br/>
"What? You're joking. How can he do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's coach got to lose?"<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes narrow, "How do you know that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Steve told me." He replies, but doesn't look at you as he tosses the ball from hand to hand. <br/>
<br/>
Scott's already had a run in with Steve Patterson--Black's right hand man. He's just as strong as Black, but he's smart, cold and calculating. "How the fuck does Patterson know?" you growl, grabbing the ball.<br/>
<br/>
"How do you think?" He scowls. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking.”<br/>
<br/>
"Because Gordon and Steve are tight. Gordon and Huber had a meeting with coach. That's when coach nailed him with the deadline."<br/>
<br/>
"Coach must have someone else lined up--just in case. You know who?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks between the Hall brothers and then grins at you, "You're looking at him. I'm not meant to know, but Gordon put in a good word for me."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're setting him up? That's fucking bad," you growl, and lob the ball over your shoulder, as you make your way back to the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll need some good players on my team," Douglas calls after you. "Think about it Bickelmeir. I'd hate for you to join Huber, and Mitchell on the bench. Be on a winning team for a change."<br/>
<br/>
********<br/>
<br/>
You arrive at Mindy's house. She gives you a friendly hug and invites you in. You both sit on the couch, and flick through the TV channels settling on some football. She hands you a box. "Here are the brake pads I got for the car."<br/>
<br/>
"These are the wrong ones." You look at the invoice and cluck your tongue, "This is where I work. I'll get them changed. The ones you've got on there will be fine for the time being."<br/>
<br/>
"I gave them your note, why does this always happen to me?" <br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about it, I'll get them replaced. Come on cheer up for me," you say squeezing her hand. She smiles and returns to the kitchenette. True to her word, Mindy returns with a delicious pasta dish.<br/>
<br/>
"Somewhere you've got to be?" she asks after catching you glancing at the time on your mobile. <br/>
<br/>
It's likely that the fake-Sean will be going to the clubhouse after work--you need him to pickup the notes that Taylor found at Salopek. So you tell Mindy you need to pick up a homework assignment from Ethan. She looks doubtful, but doesn't question you further.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I won’t keep you then," she says.<br/>
<br/>
It feels awkward, but you promise to be back later in the week. You throw the box into your pickup, and make your way to the clubhouse.<br/>
<br/>
When you arrive, Sean's pickup is outside. You'll have to get the fake-Sean to drop off the notes tomorrow. But not all’s lost as you can get the two blank masks you left in his backpack.<br/>
<br/>
As you walk up to the door, it opens and the fake-Sean walks out. He glances at you and shoulders his way past you. "Hey! Come back, we need to talk." He turns and scowls before following you back inside the clubhouse.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, its hard work being Scott around you two. I feel sorry for what Taylor had to put up with," you say to Sean who’s sitting at the table. "I've been trying to contact you all day, but this guy," you hook your thumb at the other Sean, "and my fake has been fucking assholes. You're their master; make them listen to me. Sean tells the golem to listen to you, and tells you that he'll speak with your double and Russo tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
It's then you notice how tired Sean looks. "You look like shit," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks," Sean replies through a tight smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Look--both of you, I know you were jealous of Scott--I've worn your mask so don't try to deny it." Sean looks as if he's going to say something, but then changes his mind. "I know he'd do anything for you. But he loves cars and engines.<br/>
<br/>
You tap your chest. "Scott loved engines--like Taylor. He worked on the supercharger in your pickup--he fitted it--for you.<br/>
<br/>
"Over the summer break Taylor helped Scott fix his pickup. It was a pile of shit when he got it. That's why you hardly saw Taylor--he was returning the favour." Sean pushes his hands through his hair and sags to the table.<br/>
<br/>
"Give Scott a break," you say. "It's gone on long enough."<br/>
<br/>
"I’m sorry I didn’t know. I just thought—"<br/>
<br/>
"Just don't treat him like shit." He nods, and you let it sink in before telling him the news you heard from Douglas.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? So why didn't Cameron say anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"You know Cameron; it's hard for him to ask for help."<br/>
<br/>
"Stubborn--and proud," he sighs. "Let's swap; I'll go back as Scott. If they think he's a bad ass as well, we can use that. If it comes to it I'll put a mask on Douglas."<br/>
<br/>
You pull off Scott's clothes, and hand them to Sean. The fake offers you some clothes, some sweatpants and a hoodie. You pull them on and find yourself swamped in them—they're Sean’s. You sit down and murmur the release spell pulling at your face. When you awake sitting opposite is a sleeping Scott Bickelmeir.<br/>
<br/>
The fake shakes Scott awake, with a groan he looks around. "Fucking Douglas," he snarls. "Nobody does that to my friends."<br/>
<br/>
"Go home and get some rest, you're at school tomorrow. I'll look after this place," you tell him and pull the Libra and bands from Scott's backpack. <br/>
<br/>
"I'll call you tomorrow," he pauses, "and I'll get Mindy's brake pads changed."<br/>
<br/>
As they leave, you remember the masks. "I left my two blanks in your bag," you say to the fake-Sean. He hands them over. "And I need you to bring over those notes you found in Taylor's room--the ones you used as a base for your tattoo."<br/>
<br/>
"Ok, I can skip my last class bring them over before work."<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath as they leave, the door closes and it's quiet. You look around; in the corner is a camp bed and sleeping bag. Pushed under a table is a small refrigerator, where you find some sodas. You crack one open and sit at the piles of papers on the table.<br/>
<br/>
After studying Sean's notes, you retire to the camp bed with the Libra. You climb into the sleeping bag and get comfortable.<br/>
<br/>
You take time to study the sigils in the book; the piece of paper you doodled on earlier now appears lifeless as you compare it to others in the Libra. There's no direct comparison, although there are similarities on the pages you've previously revealed. Hopefully the papers that fake-Sean will drop off tomorrow will offer some additional clues.<br/>
<br/>
You let the open book rest on your chest, and stare up at the ceiling for some time before falling asleep.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222121111212121
author_id: smitch69
title: The Serpent Within
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You find yourself unable to move, something binds you--something unseen. It squeezes tighter, and you gasp for breath.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever has you in its grip moves, and in the darkness you're able to just make out the coils of a creature. It shifts again, and a familiar pattern surfaces. You see tight circles, and interconnecting paths--you're in the grip of a giant sigil.<br/>
<br/>
Frantically struggling, you try to break free, twisting this way and that. You have to close your eyes as the head of the creature rises up in front of you preparing to strike.<br/>
<br/>
There's a thud and you dare a look. The creature has gone. Twisting awkwardly you peer towards the sound, but all you see is the Libra resting haphazardly on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
Wrestling you try to free yourself, finally managing to pull an arm free.  Tugging at the binding you recognise it as the sleeping bag. Only now, you're able to pull it further down around your chest.<br/>
<br/>
You fall from the camp bed, and fall again when you try to get up. Cursing, you kick your feet free of the sleeping bag. Holding yourself, you shiver even though you're still wearing Sean's hoodie. Picking up the Libra you stumble over to the table, dropping the book. The notes on the table are copious, and pushing them out of their neat piles you spread them on the table. They're all written in Sean's neat handwriting, with passages highlighted and boxed with coloured ink.<br/>
<br/>
Groaning, you open the Libra to the uncompleted spell. Within minutes, you begin to feel nausea as the writing in the lower half of the page shift in and out of focus. A problem solved by just covering it with a sheet of paper.<br/>
<br/>
The top half of the page shows a list of ingredients, it looks the same as those used for the mind band and you sift through Sean's notes to confirm. The Latin is different though--it roughly translates as "Use me to solve me" or maybe "My use is my solution."<br/>
<br/>
Thinking back you recall Sean suggesting a modified mind-band is needed to restore the page. Possibly, but there's no hint of how to change the band--maybe you're missing something. It's 6:27am, so you'll have to wait until later to talk to him. To kill time, you return to the sigils in the book. You've found the sheet of paper that was so desperate to escape you yesterday and carefully compare it with the Libra. Although it's obviously enchanted, you can't find any similarities with the pages so far revealed.<br/>
<br/>
By 7:30 you're getting hungry,  butthe small refrigerator only has sodas. The pang of hunger only grows so you send a text to Scott Bickelmeir's mobile to see if Sean--because it's your friend wearing his mask--can pick you up some breakfast. He replies saying he's low on cash, but he'll sort something out.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
For the moment, you've lost interest in the next spell and close the book. You spend some time surfing the Internet after finally getting a WIFI connection from the local community rec.<br/>
<br/>
"Yo! Anyone here?" calls the Danny Russo golem as he pokes his head around the clubhouse door. "I've got something for you." He ambles over with a huge paper cup with the Milagro Coffee logo on its side--it's where Danny works part time. Under his arm is a plastic folder, in his other hand he's holding his LAX stick that rests on his shoulder. "Got a coffee for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks, but I'm starving," you say taking the cup.<br/>
<br/>
"I can help you with that as well," he says with a grin. He takes the stick from his shoulder and holds it out to you, in the net is a large paper bag. You look at it for a moment. "Go on, take it," he tells you jiggling it in front of your face.<br/>
<br/>
Reaching in, you take the bag; Danny spins the stick returning it to his shoulder. Peering inside you see it's stuffed with pastries and sandwiches. Your eyes widen at the choice and you sit at the table and hungrily stuff a blueberry muffin in your mouth. You tip the half eaten muffin at Danny and nod with thanks.<br/>
<br/>
You spend the next ten minutes or so feeding yourself, but Danny declines when you offer the bag to him.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh I forgot," he hands you the plastic folder. "Sean--the fake one, gave it to me this morning, he said you needed it."<br/>
<br/>
Licking your fingers, you take it and look inside. It's the loose parchment notes that Taylor and Scott found in the box from Salopek. "Thought he was going to drop them off later."<br/>
<br/>
"Got a call, Sean--the real one--said you needed some food, and to pick up the folder from the fake."<br/>
<br/>
You quickly flip through the notes, looking at the sigils scratched onto the papers. After a couple of minutes, you find, Danny is peering over your shoulder at the various patterns. "Haven't you got classes?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
"Erm, nothing I can't catch up on," he replies glancing at his feet. "Don't worry, it'll be OK," he adds giving you a perturbed look.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got plenty to look through, you can go if you want," you say smiling.<br/>
<br/>
"I should stay, do what I'm told--like a good little soldier." It's an odd reply you think to yourself, but then Danny has always been a little eccentric.<br/>
<br/>
He returns to the steps that lead up to the door, from his back pocket he pulls a text book and pen. Sitting he starts to read and make notes. You watch him for a while as his eyebrows work, and for a moment he frowns sucking at the inside of his cheek. "This is hard," he mutters chewing on the end of the pen.<br/>
<br/>
You walk over and sit next to him. "What are you doing?" He shows you the textbook: it's a trigonometry exercise. "Is this what you're meant to be doing in class?"<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs but doesn't look at you, "I'm having problems in class. I know I'm not the smartest guy, but I just don't get it," he tells you rubbing his head, "I was meant to be getting tutoring first period, but--<br/>
<br/>
"So why aren't you at your tutoring class?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sean told be to come here, get all you needed." He's hesitant, then adds, "make sure you don't go wandering off."<br/>
<br/>
You're pretty sure you can escape Danny if you wanted to, so you let the comment slide. "Can I?" you ask nodding towards the textbook. He hands it over and you look at the text. It's not a complicated exercise, but in the margins are many scribbles with numbers that appear unconnected with the question. "What are these?"<br/>
<br/>
"Plays, team games. It helps me remember, makes them stick in my mind."<br/>
<br/>
You flip through the book, there are abstract lines, numbers and words scrawled throughout the book. You raise an eyebrow and wonder if this is a reflection of how Danny's mind works--probably.<br/>
<br/>
Something in your head clicks and you look at Danny's scribbles, and then close the book--it's a supplement to his memory. You reflect on the spell that's causing you anguish. The ingredients from the memory band and the translation--although oblique suggests; <i>My use is my solution.</i> You blink, and frown. The Libra is a memory of types, is it possible that it's that simple?<br/>
<br/>
From the table, you draw a mind band from the clear baggie. With hesitation, you lay it onto Libra and watch as it vanishes into the book. "Ooooo," Danny says looking over your shoulder. Just a few minutes later the band reappears.<br/>
<br/>
Thumbing through the spells and stop at ripped page, after a moment you place the mind band on the open book. You hold your breath as the band sinks into the page, although this time the page shifts, and regenerates.<br/>
<br/>
Blowing on the page, you dust its surface, but the lower half of the page is blank. Thinking for a moment you check the previously locked page--it turns to reveal only the next spell.<br/>
<br/>
"You did it!" Danny exclaims.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112221211112121212
author_id: smitch69
title: Dodge and Burn
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You quickly glance through the next spell to see if there is any suggestion of a cure for Taylor's condition, but it looks to be another version of the mind band.<br/>
<br/>
The sounds of a mobile draws your attention and you look at Danny. "What are you doing?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
He looks up from the display, "I'm sending a message to Sean."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, I should tell him. He'll only ask about the next spell."<br/>
<br/>
"But," Danny bleats, "he told me to let him know if you found anything."<br/>
<br/>
You reach over and take the mobile, "I still think I should tell him."<br/>
<br/>
"But," Danny continues and reaches for his mobile.<br/>
<br/>
"I need to talk with him, magic guy to magic guy. You know?" Danny shrugs. "I can't go out, there's a fake of me running around. I don't want to bump into it, it'll freak people out."<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to tell Sean, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Or course, we're partners. But I need to go see him myself, the only way I can do that is being Danny."<br/>
<br/>
He clutches at his vest. "But I've got an important job, I'm keeping the real Danny safe," he pats his chest, "inside here. Just like Sean told me."<br/>
<br/>
"And he'll be safe here as well. I'll lock the door," you reassure the golem and then add, "besides if I'm looking like you when I tell Sean, then you've done what he asked right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I suppose," he agrees reluctantly.<br/>
<br/>
You spend the next few minutes exchanging clothes; Danny's long shorts, t-shirt and LAX team vest. You're somewhat relieved to see that even Danny is swamped in Sean's hoody and sweatpants. He spins on his heals and you watch as the clothes inflate like sails. "Whoa," Danny cries, "they don't call him the 'big guy' for nothing, huh?" All you can do is shake your head as he stomps and shuffles around the room.<br/>
<br/>
As Danny entertains himself you pack a rucksack with the two blank masks you recovered from the fake-Sean, along with the baggie of mind bands and the golem-paste. On the table you pack another baggie--with your name on it. Inside is your hair clippings that you can use with further spells. <br/>
<br/>
"What are you doing?" Danny asks sitting on the table.<br/>
<br/>
"Just packing some provisions," you tell him as you put the Libra and the notes that Taylor found in the rucksack as well. "If I'm going to be you for a bit, I should take these so I can work on the next spell." He nods, but looks uncertain.<br/>
<br/>
"Lay down on the camp bed," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
He lays down and you reach for his face, but he grabs your wrist. "I'm trying to be a good guy, you know? Don't make me do anything bad, please."<br/>
<br/>
You tell him not to worry and grasp at the soft fuzzy scruff around his cheek. Murmuring the spell you pull at his face; the mask yields and reveals the grey complexion of the real Danny Russo, still golemised below.<br/>
<br/>
His eyes are closed, as if he's sleeping. You can't help wondering if he's dreaming, you sigh as guilt clouds your thoughts. "I should have seen this," you tell yourself. "The change with Scott, the way his personality changed so drastically. I should have checked." You look at Danny's mask and remember how much fun it was playing with them--before the accidents. "No, sacrifices. I--" you correct yourself. "We, really fucked up."<br/>
<br/>
You sit in a chair and push Danny's mask to your face.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
You can feel your head resting on your arms, but your head is like its full of bees.<br/>
<br/>
*Sin, root over cosine. Root, root root. Little piggy root. Oink, piggy bacon and maple syrup--mmmm. Something, something. Don't forget.*<br/>
<br/>
The noise in your head increases, thoughts bounce around colliding and mixing. Blinking you look up and try and focus, but the noise continues.<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes flick from object to object as new thought spring into your mind. *No, don't forget--Milagro, late shift, need your SUV. Ok.* Something bubbles and pops in your mind, *LAX, shoot, wall ball, Matilda. Team rosters, Lepley, Ansell. Square root of a pie--apple pie, tie-dyed.*<br/>
<br/>
*Izzie, wizzy* Your minds eye focuses for a moment, and you find yourself gazing into space at the tomboy features of Izzie Mackler--an attacker from the girls LAX team. "Shit," you mutter and push the heel of your hand into the stiffening member in your shorts.<br/>
<br/>
Your transfixed for a moment, and then the vision vaporises as you find yourself distracted by the noise in your head again. You take a couple of breaths, and push the busy thoughts to the side. You groan, "Damn, Danny, what the fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
You get to your feet, and your surprised how much energy you have available. Like an unlimited supply of nervous, frenzied excitement. At the camp bed you cover the golemised Danny.<br/>
<br/>
Grabbing Matilda--your LAX stick--you strap it to the rucksack, and stuff the trigonometry textbook and mobile in your back pocket. At the steps to the door you glance around before leaving and locking it securely.<br/>
<br/>
Across the lot is a Honda, Danny's SUV. His brother, Charlie had been borrowing it since his pickup was at the mechanics--again. This morning he'd spent a couple of minutes reminding Danny he had a shift at the coffee shop where they both worked.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the time on your mobile; you've already missed your first three periods at school. But the jingling, tingling feeling in your body makes you think it'll be worthwhile joining Coach Gossett's Athletic Training in fourth. Maybe you'll burn off some energy before lunch where you'll hopefully find Sean who's in the guise Scott Bickelmeir.<br/>
<br/>
Jogging over to the SUV you pull open the door and throw the rucksack in, you sigh realising the door was unlocked with the keys still in the ignition. Danny always forgets to lock the car.<br/>
<br/>
As you drive back to school, you begin to feel more at ease with your new identity allowing Danny's child like personality to wrap itself around you. Pushing at the radio buttons only confirms it's still broken, so you think about the music you've heard, inside your head the beats and rhythms come to life. As you look out of the window you find yourself nodding in time with the party in your head.<br/>
<br/>
The journey passes quickly and you find somewhere to park. From the trunk you stuff a clean shirt and a can of deodorant into the rucksack and head for the gym.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
"Come along, get ready Russo," Coach Gossette mutters as you walk past him.<br/>
<br/>
You stop and look up at the big man. "I'm ready," you tell him holding out your arms.<br/>
<br/>
"Just get into the gym."<br/>
<br/>
You drop your bag off in the locker room and amble into the gym. The other students have changed, and are warming up.<br/>
<br/>
Jonas Martin and Luke Bennett--two basketball players are both stretching. You want to flinch and skulk away when you see Lester "The Molester" Pozniak, a bully that went out of his way to make your old life a misery. But you're so wrapped up in Danny's psyche you calmly trot past him and join the basketball players.<br/>
<br/>
"You know what we're doing today?" You ask Martin.<br/>
<br/>
"Dodge-ball," he answers.<br/>
<br/>
You do some squats and pull at your shoulders to loosen up. "Sweet."<br/>
<br/>
Coach Gossett walks into the gym followed by Brophy Maddox--a low ranking bully that follows Pozniak around like a bad smell. He's carrying a net of balls.<br/>
<br/>
Gossett calls out Martin and Bennett, "Team A, and B," he says pointing to each in turn. "Pick out your men." For once you're not the last, and join Martin's team.<br/>
<br/>
Maddox lines up the balls and the teams pick opposite sides of the gym. You're standing opposite Pozniak--he's almost double your size, he looks at you with a dull loathing. You grin widely,waving back and he sneers.<br/>
<br/>
You crouch, eyeing the line of balls in front of you, and realise the noise that's been buzzing in your head has all but gone. You feel tense, alert and focused like your life depended on it.<br/>
<br/>
Coach blows his whistle and you sprint to the centre of the gym, you're one of the fastest and you're already returning to activate a ball as Pozniak picks up his.<br/>
<br/>
Touching the ball to the wall, you spin on your heels, eye your target and launch the ball.</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122212111121212121
author_id: smitch69
title: Not quick enough
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Touching the ball to the wall, you spin on your heels, eye your target before launching the ball.<br/>
<br/>
You hit Pozniak squarely in the back, even over the squeal of trainers on the floor you can hear his curse as staggers and twists to see where it came from--he stares at you. When the coach calls him off he drops his ball, stomping off the court. You wave again and skip to the side as a ball just misses your leg.<br/>
<br/>
Jogging to the right, you jump, then duck out of the way of a further two balls before throwing a ball across the gym. Bennett is quick and dodges, then returns another ball. You suck in, turning sideways as it slips past, but another ball hits your shoulder. "Get out Russo," coach shouts and you head for the sidelines.<br/>
<br/>
Pozniak is shouting and pointing at your team, highlighting any weaknesses. "You're so dead," he mutters as you pass him.<br/>
<br/>
He'll have to wait as Martin catches a ball thrown by Maddox. "Russo, you're back in. Maddox your out!" the coach shouts, Pozniak gives you a shove as you pass.<br/>
<br/>
The game continues, and the number of remaining players dwindle. There's three on the opposing team against just you and Martin. You're feeling a little persecuted as Pozniak directs the team to target you, but it's working against them. You're able to twist, turn, jump and dive out of the way. Soon all the balls are on your side of the gym, you look at Martin with a grin and take out the others one by one.<br/>
<br/>
As the last of your opponents falls, Martin high fives you. "Russo, you're so damn quick on your feet."<br/>
<br/>
You skip a little dance in a circle, "Champions!" you yell.<br/>
<br/>
Coach blows his whistle. "That was a good game. Russo, collect up the balls," he says and throws you the net.<br/>
<br/>
Jogging, skipping and moonwalking around the gym you pick up the balls. Returning to the locker room, you dump the net into the equipment room. As you leave Pozniak is waiting in the doorway, he grabs you by the vest. "You're a little shit Russo."<br/>
<br/>
You swallow, Danny isn't very good at reading faces, but you've seen Pozniak close up and you know what's coming next. A tingling feeling courses through your body as Pozniak pulls back with a clenched fist; your eyes widen. You see his fist heading towards your face, but it appears to be travelling slow enough that you're able dodge it. He tries again, and you jerk out of the way. It feels like a game until from behind arms grab you and hold you in place, Pozniak hits you hard in the stomach. Coughing and gasping you fall to the ground and glance up to see Maddox smirking.<br/>
<br/>
The bully stands over you. "Keep out of my way Russo, unless you want some more of that."<br/>
<br/>
You don't have enough air in your lungs to reply and roll over.<br/>
<br/>
You're laying there for sometime before somebody grasps your shoulder. "You OK Russo?" It's Jonas Martin. "Pozniak's real jerk, and a sore loser." He helps you to your feet, "Go get showered."<br/>
<br/>
The hot water helps, and by the end of the shower you've shaken off any pain and return to the locker room. Drying off you spray yourself copiously with deodorant and pull on the same clothes only substituting the shirt. Grabbing your bag, you jog outside and head for lunch.<br/>
<br/>
You're met by one of Danny's friends--Noah Lepley, another LAX player. You bump fists, and tell him about your intervention with Pozniak as you get some food. "He's just s dick," Noah tells you as you stuff some fries in your mouth while walking to a table.<br/>
<br/>
Sean Mitchell and Scott Bickelmeir walk past and spot you, Scott points at a free table and the fake-Sean heads over. The real Sean who's disguised as Scott squats next to you. "Thought you had something to do today?" he asks in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
You glance over at Noah, and realise Scott still thinks he's talking to the golem. "Yeah, finished early--you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Any news?"<br/>
<br/>
You look at Noah again, who's listening intently. "Yup, I'd say so. Erm, I'm working at Milagro Coffee later. Can we talk then?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ok," Scott answers, looks at Noah, nods his chin, then leaves.<br/>
<br/>
"What was that about?" your friend asks. You make a lame excuse, and change the subject.<br/>
<br/>
Danny's afternoon classes pass quickly, and after LAX practice you head over to Milagro Coffee.<br/>
<br/>
As you walk through the door, your confronted by Charlie--Danny's older brother. "Where have you been? I told you to be here early," he says with a sigh. "I'll be an hour, then I'll be back and you can go, alright?" You shrug and smile as he takes the keys to the Honda and dashes out the door.<br/>
<br/>
You take a green apron from behind the counter and slip it on. You check the fridge, and then play with the various levers on the coffee machine making it hiss and bubble. It's quiet in the shop, most of the customers have left now, leaving only a girl sitting by herself.<br/>
<br/>
It's been thirty minutes or so before Sean and Scott walk in. Scott orders a Latte, but when asked, Sean declines and sits at a table. You make the drink, once again enjoying the many levers and noises the machine makes. When you're done you push the steaming mug towards Scott. "Two dollars," you tell him, he pays and goes to sit with Sean.<br/>
<br/>
Grabbing a bowl, you visit the tables and clear them. You reach the girl sitting alone, and you realise it's Cindy Vredenburg--one of the cheerleaders. You're looking at her, and one of Danny's random thoughts pop into you head--do horses sleep standing up? You're pondering this for a while, and then blink to see Cindy staring back at you. You turn away embarrassed realising that while you've been pondering the horsey conundrum you've been staring at Cindy.<br/>
<br/>
Clearing the rest of the tables, you go to a small room behind the counter and fill the dishwasher. Sucking on your lip you stab at the buttons and wait for the slushing noise to begin. Satisfied you return to the counter, Cindy has joined Sean and Scott and she glares at you through red eyes. Scott's got his arm around her, and she's leaning on his shoulder. They talk for a moment, and then Sean stands, takes her hand and leads her outside.<br/>
<br/>
You walk over to Scott. "Where are they going?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea Cooper has broken up Cindy and her boyfriend. She's pretty cut up about it, Sean's taking her home." By now the shop is empty, so you take a seat opposite Scott. "So tell me what happened with Will. You were meant to stay there and keep him focused on the next spell."<br/>
<br/>
"Like a good little soldier?" you ask him. He tips his head, "Danny did stay, and he helped me figure out the spell."<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you, "Will?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod. "Slipped on his stuff in case I bumped into my double."<br/>
<br/>
"So, what did you find? Tell me you've got something that'll fix Taylor."<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head. "The spell with the ripped page, it was just a test. It doesn't do anything."<br/>
<br/>
He frowns, "So what about the next spell?"<br/>
<br/>
"It looks like another version of the mind-band. I've only glanced at the text."<br/>
<br/>
He sags and rests his head in his hands. "Do you think there a way to fix him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, it's so unfair," he growls and hits the table with his fist.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens again, this time it's Charlie. "We're closing soon, can your friend finish his drink."<br/>
<br/>
"I was just going," Scott replies. He looks at you, "Do you need a lift anywhere?"<br/>
<br/>
You take that as a hint that he wants you to go with him. "Charlie, you OK to lock up? You can take my car, I'm going to hang out with Scott." Charlie nods. You take off the apron and grab your rucksack trotting to catch up with your friend. "Where are we going?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Back to the clubhouse, I want to see that next spell." He hands you his mobile, "Send the fake a message to meet us there."<br/>
<br/>
----<br/>
<br/>
At the clubhouse you follow Scott as he unlocks the door. "So where's the Danny-golem," he asks, and you point at the camp bed.<br/>
<br/>
Sitting at the table you pull the Libra from your bag and show Scott. He flips between the page that was once ripped and you explain how you released the page.<br/>
<br/>
He frowns and stares at the new spell. "Do we need anything?" he asks, "or is it just this new sigil?"<br/>
<br/>
You look at the spell, "I think that's it. I'm not sure what it does though."<br/>
<br/>
The door opens and the fake-Sean walks in and sits at the table. "Did you drop her off?" Scott asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No problems, say did you know Cindy had a sister? Nice looking, goes to the college." He flexes an arm, "Really liked my muscles and tats."<br/>
<br/>
"My muscles and tats," Scott corrects the fake. He reaches for the fake-Sean's face, who flinches but doesn't move as he pulls the mask from its face. A cold grey figure replaces the fake-Sean. Although its features appear identical, it's Taylor, his twin.<br/>
<br/>
"Why did you take the mask off?"<br/>
<br/>
"I just wanted to see Taylor again," he murmurs. "Did those sheets of paper I found tell you anything?"<br/>
<br/>
You search through the rucksack again and pull out the two blank masks and the plastic folder. "Haven't had a chance to look at them yet." You look at Taylor again, even though his expression is frozen he looks shocked and desperate.<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure if it's Danny or yourself, but you can't bear looking at Taylor at the moment. You take a mask--<br/>
<br/>
"No! Wait!" Scott shouts as you go to plant it on Taylor's face.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222121111212121212
author_id: smitch69
title: Accidental Discovery
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"No! Wait," Scott demands. But it's too late as you push the mask into the golemised-Taylor's face. He sighs and sags a little, "I don't get to see enough of him as it is." Sean--who's wearing Scott's mask--has been desperate to restore his twin since he unknowingly golemised him. Your friend goes over to the small refrigerator and stares inside, "You want a soda?"<br/>
<br/>
You say nothing as you watch the stone-like complexion of the golem change; but it's not smooth. The transformation stutters, the colours bleed and fracture. The transition only lasts a few seconds before a natural skin tone returns.<br/>
<br/>
Scott asks again. "No, I'm OK," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
The restored golem slowly plants its palms on the tabletop, his head sways a little. From under the thick mop of hair that curls slightly at the tips you see his eyebrows descend into a frown. His eyes narrow as he cautiously surveys the room, eventually settling on you. He rubs at his lip. "Where's Sean?" he asks in a quiet voice.<br/>
<br/>
Scott turns, soda in hand. "What did you say?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks towards Scott and stands abruptly, sending the chair sliding across the room. His mouth parts slightly as his frown shifts to a look of confusion. "Scott? What the hell's going on!" he exclaims, touching his own face.<br/>
<br/>
Scott drops the soda and stumbles towards the table. "It's me, I'm Sean," he says in a shaky voice.<br/>
<br/>
"But... How?"<br/>
<br/>
You're still not sure what's going on, until you notice his arm. Sean's tattoo is missing. "Shit! Taylor?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you, "Yeah--I guess." You can see he is just as confused as you. "How," he struggles with the words. "How did you get the thing off?"<br/>
<br/>
"What did you do?" Scott demands, "Tell me!"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing," you bleat, "I just put the mask back on him."<br/>
<br/>
Scott's attention returns to Taylor. "Bro' I'm sorry," he says pushing the bangs from Taylor's face.  "I didn't know it was you, why didn't you tell me?"<br/>
<br/>
"How? How could I do that?"<br/>
<br/>
You've been wearing Scott's mask yourself and know until recently how difficult Sean has made it for Scott. <br/>
<br/>
"I just wish--"<br/>
<br/>
“What chance did I have?" Taylor yells, but then masters himself. "Sorry, but whenever I tried to talk, you just blanked me, or worse!”<br/>
<br/>
You see Sean squirm at the accusation. "I'm not proud of what I did, but--" Taylor's frowns for a moment and Sean changes the subject. "What about the visits to the house?"<br/>
<br/>
"I just wanted to see mom," Taylor murmurs. "I missed you guys so much." He pulls up the chair and slumps in the seat.<br/>
<br/>
"It makes sense, but you really upset mom."<br/>
<br/>
"You know I didn't mean to, you and mom are all I have. It hurt me so much, being pushed away all the time. I just wanted to say how sorry I was--to mom. I thought maybe she could see it was me, the real me, behind Scott's face." He rubs at his eye again. "I can't believe it's all over, I'm back."<br/>
<br/>
Sean sits and recites the release spell before pulling at his face and slumps into unconsciousness.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor scoops up Scott's mask and looks at its interior. "You have no idea what its like wearing this Russo," he tells you.<br/>
<br/>
"I kinda do," you reply. "I've been wearing it for a few days."<br/>
<br/>
"You're kidding me right? Last thing I remember was sitting on this table and being roughed up by Sean. Then waking up again, with you and Scott." He looks into the distance for a moment, "I was meant to change Marcy's break pads."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry we've done that for--Scott," you reassure him.<br/>
<br/>
You remember the mask you placed onto Taylor's golemised form and collect together the remaining masks from the table. There's a blank, Scott's and Sean's mask.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Sean's?</i><br/>
<br/>
That means you must have put the other blank onto Taylor!<br/>
<br/>
Sean groans and lifts his head. Taylor smiles like a kid who's had a wish granted. "Sean! It is you!"<br/>
<br/>
You sit back and enjoy the tender moments as the twins are finally reunited.<br/>
<br/>
They both stand, like a reflection in a mirror. There's a lot of manly hugs, friendly punches and a tear or two.<br/>
<br/>
"Mom, will love to see you," Sean blurts out.<br/>
<br/>
It's a nice thought, but you have to tell them. "You know Taylor can't see her," you say. Danny's psyche is screaming at you not to say it, but you have to. "Taylor died in a crash, you said yourself Sean, you buried him. How's she going to react if he turns up with you?"<br/>
<br/>
The reality hits Taylor and although he's just as big and strong as Sean, he sags holding on tightly to his twin. "I've only just got out of the mask, back to myself, and I'm still no closer to seeing her."<br/>
<br/>
"But--" Taylor whispers and straightens, grasping Sean's shoulders. "We can swap, like we used to! We could always fool dad, sometimes mom. Nobody has any reason to think I'm not you, at Westside, only a few knew you had a twin anyway."<br/>
<br/>
Sean glances over at you, his eyes are red. "I don't think it will work bro'." He lifts his arm showing his tattoo, we're not the identical anymore.<br/>
<br/>
Sean rests his chin on Taylor's shoulder. "We'll figure something out, get you back to see mom," he whispers. "Can we use my mask?" he asks you.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, maybe," you reply, but you're not even sure how the blank mask restored the twin. "Sit down, may as well try it now."<br/>
<br/>
They return to the table and Sean pushes his mask towards Taylor who looks pensive.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry," Sean says. "We know how to use them, you know, get them off if we need to." Taylor takes the mask looking the name SEAN JASON MITCHELL which floats in its interior. "Don't worry, I'll look after you bro'," Sean reassures.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor brings it to his face, only pausing briefly before pushing it home. He slumps back into the chair, but the mask doesn't sink into him, instead it just rests on his face glowing brightly.<br/>
<br/>
"This doesn't look right," you say to Sean and grab the mask from Taylor's face. His eyelids move for a moment, Sean checks his pulse and nods. "It must be something to do with the blank mask we used, we need to try and figure out what happened." Sean agrees and you wait for Taylor to recover.<br/>
<br/>
"Did it work?" Taylor asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No," you reply, "it glowed--that's all."<br/>
<br/>
"Shit."<br/>
<br/>
"We don't know how we restored you," Sean says.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
Sean rubs the heel against his brow. "It's magic, like the masks. When I thought you were Scott." Sean takes a breath. "We cast a spell on you. Thought it'd changed you into someone that followed orders, Scott that is, but it changed you under the mask. We didn't know--I'm sorry."<br/>
<br/>
"It's called a golem," you add. "We tried the spell again on Russo, but--" you trail off.<br/>
<br/>
"Russo?" He asks, looking at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Danny Russo," you reply, then remember you're wearing his mask. "Oh," you tap your chest, "I'm not Danny, I'm Will Prescott. I work with Sean at Salopek." You lead Taylor to the cot and show him the golem. "This is the real Danny."<br/>
<br/>
"Shit, is he dead?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, but that's what you're like--after the spell."<br/>
<br/>
He looks at his hands, "But I feel fine."<br/>
<br/>
"We put a blank mask on you by mistake, you've been wearing Sean's mask since we found you. Taylor, we need to check something, try and remove the blank mask."<br/>
<br/>
Taylor shoots Sean a worried look. "It's OK, we know how to get you back," Sean says clasping his twins shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
At the table, with trepidation Sean grasps Taylor's face, mutters the spell and pulls. The familiar grey washes across Taylor's face and body.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112221211112121212121
author_id: smitch69
title: Decision Time
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Sean grasps Taylor's face, he mutters the spell and pulls. The familiar grey washes across his face and body returning him to a golem.</i><br/>
<br/>
"There's no change to the mask," Sean says looking at its interior. "It's still a blank."<br/>
<br/>
"We should try it on Russo, just to make sure it wasn't a fluke." You take the mask and drop it onto Danny's face. His eyes flutter open, then go wide. He starts to struggle, trying to free himself from the blankets. "Hold him!" you shout and Sean presses down on his shoulders.<br/>
<br/>
"Why? Why are you doing this robot-Danny?" he cries. You grasp his face, murmur the spell and pull, returning him to a golem like state.<br/>
<br/>
"Can't we just leave it on him?" Sean asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No, not yet at least," you say tapping your forehead. "I know he'll tell someone, he won't be able to stop himself." Sean frowns and returns to Taylor. "We should put your mask back on him, see if he can remember anything--who he is."<br/>
<br/>
He agrees and offers up his own mask to his twin's face. The golem's grey complexion washes away, replaced with more natural tones. The twin jerks into life, sitting up. Neither you, nor Danny's psyche that's wrapped tightly around you is able to tell the difference between the twins. The only clue is the tattoo that's visible from the sleeve.<br/>
<br/>
Sean asks his double questions, but it soon becomes clear that it's the fake, as it has no knowledge of being Taylor. With a resigned look Sean removes the mask, revealing the golemised Taylor once again.<br/>
<br/>
You frown, rubbing at the soft stubble that covers your jawline. Your friend has a difficult decision to make, and you can see as his eyebrows work he's tossing the various options around. <br/>
<br/>
There is a way of bringing back his twin; but in doing so he'll have to sacrifice his own identity. Placing a blank mask on Taylor--or Danny--restores them, until it's removed. That's the hit, it has to be a blank, a sealed one will just sew on the masks identity leaving the wearer dormant.<br/>
<br/>
"So what next?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you, "I've decided." He pushes the blank against Taylor's face. The transition stutters again before returning the twin.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor looks at Sean, then you, as one of Danny's exaggerated sad faces materialises on your face. "Bad news huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and no," Sean replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Just give me the facts bro'," Taylor says with a sigh.<br/>
<br/>
With a groan Sean draws his hand down his face. "We can't reverse that damn spell--yet. Jesus, I'm so sorry Taylor. We know that a blank sort of short-circuits the spell, but if we put one of the other masks on you then you don't--<i>wake up</i>," he says gesturing in the air with his fingers.<br/>
<br/>
"It means," you add, "you'll have to pretend to be Sean."<br/>
<br/>
"And what about him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll have to be someone else." <br/>
<br/>
Taylor shakes his head, "No, no, out of the question. just put me back. I know you'll keep searching for a solution. Just--just let me out now and again, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's my decision," Sean growls. "It was <i>my</i> fault this shit happened."<br/>
<br/>
"It's <i>our</i> fault," you add. "It's my book after all."<br/>
<br/>
"It's neither of your faults," Taylor argues. "If I wasn't fooling around with those masks with Scott during summer break, Scott would be alive and we wouldn't be here!"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know that," Sean mumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Bro', listen to yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"It's my fuck-up," Sean says loudly. "You don't have a--"<br/>
<br/>
"Like hell-"<br/>
<br/>
They begin to argue. It's been a while since you've worn Sean's mask and you wonder if they were always like this. You look at Sean, then back to Taylor as the volley of words continue. Back and forth, Sean to Taylor. Your head moves from left to right, right to left. The thought of strawberries and cream pop into your head.<br/>
<br/>
"Sean!" Taylor shouts. "I'm the eldest! We do what I say!"<br/>
<br/>
You take a sharp breath and look at Sean, his face is red. "By minutes," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"New balls please," you say under your breath. You're losing interest and the inherited noise in your head, begins to fill your mind with beats and rifts of some random tune. Your head begins to bob in time with the silent melody.<br/>
<br/>
"HEY!" You're brought back abruptly and blink to find Taylor looking at you. "Tell Sean I'm right."<br/>
<br/>
"Erm," you reply vaguely. "What were you saying? Its pretty busy in Danny's head, I kinda got distracted."<br/>
<br/>
"This is important Prescott," Sean says staring down at you.<br/>
<br/>
You look up, your eyes flick between the twins. They're towering over you, both equally built. You scratch your ear nervously. "Tell me again?" you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Sean sighs and slumps into the chair, "Waste of time."<br/>
<br/>
Taylor's more patient and explains his proposal--again. "I wear an imprinted mask. I go to sleep." Sean opens his mouth, but is silenced with a raised finger. "You guys continue to look for a fix--<br/>
<br/>
You nod, with a grin on your face. "You are listening right?" Taylor asks. "You understand?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, go on," you reply. You glance at Sean; he's resting his head in his hands.<br/>
<br/>
"When you find it, you fix me--and Danny. It's that simple." You pull on your lip for a moment, thinking. Taylor looks concerned.<br/>
<br/>
"We could do that," you reply. "Put the blank mask back on you at the weekends, and update you with the progress."<br/>
<br/>
Taylor pokes Sean, "See, that would work."</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122212111121212121212
author_id: smitch69
title: Continued
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Can I talk now?" Sean groans.<br/>
<br/>
After a moment Taylor sweeps his hand towards you, "Please continue--little bro'."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright! It was just seconds!" Sean complains, as Taylor grins. "I think Taylor should take my place. Hardly anyone at Westside knew I had a twin, we used to swap all the time at Eastman. Even Ann didn't--"<br/>
<br/>
Taylor frowns, "Keep to topic bro'."<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever, just proves we can fool anyone. Taylor takes my place and I wear Scott's," he jerks his chin towards you, "or Danny's mask."<br/>
<br/>
Taylor shakes his head. "It won't work," he argues and pulls at Sean's sleeve. "I don't have the ink."<br/>
<br/>
"So wear long sleeves," Sean snaps back.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, like I'm going to wear a shirt when I'm wrestling and showering," Taylor retorts.<br/>
<br/>
As the verbal tussle re-ignites between the twins, you dig through your rucksack and find a Sharpie marker--fine tip. They ignore you, but your shrill whistle silences them.<br/>
<br/>
Grabbing Sean's arm, you study the tattoo for a moment then turn your attention to Taylor pulling at his equally large arm. When you start to ink in a small area on his bicep, it tenses and grows and you have to tell him to relax. With your tongue just visible and brow furrowed you recreate a small section of Sean's tattoo on Taylor's arm.<br/>
<br/>
After a few minutes you sit back and Taylor studies the complicated curlicues you've created. He looks over at Sean's arm and they compare. "No, no... it'll wash off," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a permanent marker," Sean argues.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't care," Taylor replies in a quiet voice. He looks at his brother, "I don't want you trapped under a mask, like I was, not able to be yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"I won't be trapped, I know how to get them off."<br/>
<br/>
"That's not the point, even if you find a fix, what do we do? I'm dead and buried, there's no place in this world for me." <br/>
<br/>
You watch him sag, Sean reaches out and grasps his hand. "We'll find a way--I promise, we can take turns like we always did."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure how long it will take," you say. "I'm not even sure there would be a way--" You stop mid sentence when Sean stares coldly at you. "We could use help, but it could be risky--you know, telling more people about the book."<br/>
<br/>
Sean's face reddens and he mumbles something you don't quite hear. "Getting outside help might speed things up," he says, "a specialist."<br/>
<br/>
Your eyebrows rise.<br/>
<br/>
"A specialist in transforming masks and spells that turn people into statues," Taylor chides.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, but we could at least look for help," Sean says abruptly.<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure you like the idea, but say you'll think about it.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112222
author_id: smitch69
title: Dirty Tricks
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Its Thursday and all morning at school you've been thinking about all the possible people you could copy, perhaps even some of Sean's friends in the football and wrestling teams. You even mull over the idea of taking a copy of a cheerleader just to play with their boobs but dismiss the idea for the moment as a better choice might be to take the place of one of their boyfriends.<br/>
<br/>
While you're picking up some books from your locker Steve Patterson passes as other student scatter. It occurs to you that he seems to have no boundaries when it comes to the girls which kinda makes him a good candidate. <br/>
<br/>
Biting your lip you think of Chelsea the head cheerleader, if you take a copy of Gordon Black you could have Chelsea in your pocket -- although deep down you know its Chelsea that wears the pants in that relationship -- and give Cameron Huber the QB some grief and hopefully he'll drop Black as a bad idea for any coaching tips.<br/>
<br/>
As Lester 'The Molester' bruises past you catch his eye, and he gives a weak smile. It would appear that your confrontation with him last week has made an impression on him.<br/>
<br/>
As you walk to your next class, you glance at Sean's reflection in a window. He's a heavy built guy, blond shaggy hair. You've got his rucksack over your shoulder and his thick bicep stretches the sleeve on his polo.  You know that he can look after himself. You doubt that you'd have any problems subduing almost all of the other jocks you been considering.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~~~~~</div><br/>
<br/>
It's getting late and you want to meet Will before starting work at Salopek to talk to him about the golem. <br/>
<br/>
In the school parking lot Sean's pickup is waiting, big black and shining in the light. You know Taylor had worked on it as his pet project. He worked magic on engines and cars, you stand there for a moment and remember how proud he was of the work telling Sean about each part. He'd put in a new induction kit including air filter and intake hoses along with a larger throttle body to allow the air to flow better, he said it'll give a nice throaty growl — it certainly did! The crowning glory was a much larger twin scroll supercharger and a front mounted intercooler with water methanol injection system with a second set of fuel injectors. Sean's good with mechanics, but Taylor really knew how to make engines sing.<br/>
<br/>
Jumping into the cab you turn the ignition and it roars into life, it's Sean's pride and joy. You nail the gas, fishtailing out of the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
Salopek is a couple of miles away from town, so you're hitting the gas hard when BANG! You hit a pot hole, the pickup judders and gasps before dying. You gently coast to the roadside and try and start the engine; it coughs and gasps refusing to start. You think back to Sean's threat about breaking his beloved pickup and wonder what he could possibly do whilst he's in your body and realise … <i>Gulp!</i><br/>
<br/>
You pop the hood and jump out. You're checking all the usual stuff; plugs, ignition but it's fruitless. As you check the fuel lines you hear another vehicle pull up with a slide of gravel. You look around the side of the pickup but see no one, you return to the engine bay only to see Scott Bickelmeir standing at the open hood looking in.<br/>
<br/>
“Trouble?”<br/>
<br/>
Sean's deep loathing for Bickelmeir blackens your mood, but you don't really want to be stuck here any longer. So you push the feeling down as you know that both Taylor and Bickelmeir shared the same interests in engines.  “Yeah, I hit a pot hole and the engine cut out. I've checked all the usual stuff but Taylor's made a lot of mods.”<br/>
<br/>
He laughs, “Yeah I guess he did. Mind if I take a look?”<br/>
<br/>
Climbing on the bumper he leans in and checks the same things as you. He scratches his head and starts humming to himself, not a tune as such but words as he focuses on the engine before him. He's digging around deep within the engine now, you're watching over his shoulder as he methodically checks connections. It's a couple of minutes before he lets out a reassuring “a-huh, got you — you little fucker” and pushes a vacuum hose back on the fuel pressure regulator. <br/>
<br/>
“Give her a go now.”<br/>
<br/>
You jump in the cab and turn the ignition, and it growls into life again.<br/>
<br/>
You sit there for a while, slowly revving the engine enjoying the sound when a blue glint catches your eye from the rucksack. Reaching inside you pull out one of the masks, flipping it over in your hands. You know Sean wanted you to stay clear of Bickelmeir, but with his memory at your disposal all the questions that have been tormenting Sean for so long could finally be answered. Grinning you slip the mask under your polo tucking it in your shorts. <br/>
<br/>
Jumping out of the cab you make your way around to the front of the pickup. You see Bickelmeir leaning under the hood again replacing all the parts he'd checked, you take the mask from under your shirt and edge towards him.<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly there's another slide of gravel and Huber pulls up in his pickup alongside the pair of you, "Hey! You guys need any help?" You practically drop the mask quickly putting it behind you and slipping it into your belt cursing under your breath.<br/>
<br/>
"No, we're all good here." Grins Bickelmeir.<br/>
<br/>
Huber looks at you and gives you a thumbs up, mouthing <i>OK?</i> You nod as Bickelmeir drops the hood with a bang. <br/>
<br/>
“Jobs a good ’un” he says cleaning his hands with a rag he’s taken from his pocket. He throws it to you and you clean your hands as well. With a smile Huber gives a wave and leaves.<br/>
<br/>
“Looks like you know my pickup.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, of course! I've worked on it before...” He pauses for a moment looking you in the eyes, “... with Taylor, before... You know.”<br/>
<br/>
A lump forms in your throat, and you swallow.<br/>
<br/>
You feel uneasy with the way he's watching you, seeing what reaction if any he can read in your face.<br/>
<br/>
Turning you check an imaginary blemish on the bodywork, and thank him for his help.<br/>
<br/>
He grunts a reply, but you feeling something familiar with this meeting. You ask if you can buy him a drink at the Milagro coffee shop in town, he nods perhaps grateful that the cold reception might be thawing.<br/>
<br/>
He follows you into town and you both park up outside the coffee shop and go in. Scott finds a table while you get a couple of mugs of coffee.<br/>
<br/>
He takes the coffee from you with thanks and with two hands draws it up to his lips, he gently blows on it chasing the milky froth around the surface before taking a sip. You raise an eyebrow at his antics, again something tugs at you from Sean's memory - something familiar.<br/>
<br/>
There's an uneasy silence between you, still holding the mug he looks over at yours still untouched.<br/>
<br/>
“Do you miss your bro?”<br/>
<br/>
“Of course the FUCK I do.”<br/>
<br/>
He looks away, you can see he’s unhappy with the answer.<br/>
<br/>
“Still grieving then. I miss my bro’ too you know.” You see sadness in his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s true we’ve never really got on but I’d like to get to know you again.” He looks up at you expectantly, you say nothing, taking a gulp of coffee.<br/>
<br/>
“Where's your baseball cap Sean? I've never seen you without it, just like Taylor - it was his wasn't it?”<br/>
<br/>
You pause for a moment, desperately trying to think of a plausible story.<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck!" You growl and slam the table with your fist for effect which makes Scott jump, and the staff behind the counter shift uneasily. “Some little shit stole it when I was at football practice, I've got a good idea where it is though.”<br/>
<br/>
“It means a lot to you doesn't it?”<br/>
<br/>
You draw on Sean's emotions, “Yeah, it was Taylor's and before that our Dad's. It may not be anything more than a cap to you, but to us it's a connection to the family that's no longer with us.” <br/>
<br/>
“Believe me I understand, I'll keep my eyes open for it.” You thank him and finish your drinks.<br/>
<br/>
Outside you shake his hand; and to your surprise find yourself pulling him in for a manly hug. “Thanks buddy.”<br/>
<br/>
He smiles, and you leave heading for Salopek. </span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122222
author_id: smitch69
title: Little Big Man
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's not long before you arrive at Salopek, you think it's probably not a good idea to mention the meeting you've had with Scott Bickelmeir. You yourself have discovered that Scott isn't as bad as Sean believes, and it appears that he misses Taylor just as much as Sean.<br/>
<br/>
You change in the locker room before heading over to the workshop next door. Andy is talking to a slight figure whose back is to you, but which you've no trouble recognising as yourself. You and he exchange your typical nods of greeting, and you ask Andy about the schedule for the day.<br/>
<br/>
He points to a heavy piece of machinery, "Need to get that lathe shifted, Sean. A new robot lathe is being delivered next week. You guys just need to get it unbolted from the floor, I'll get Jack to organise a forklift to shift it out." You look over it knowing it's going to be a dirty job. He rests a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're OK handling that, son?"<br/>
<br/>
"Absolutely, sir!" you exclaim and give him a thumbs up. "Ready for a bit of hard work," you grin at your friend as Andy leaves.<br/>
<br/>
He blinks and smiles back at you. You smile back at him. You keep smiling at each other, you waiting for the banter to start, him waiting for ...<br/>
<br/>
A feeling like a cold finger slides down your backbone. As best you know, Sean can imitate you as perfectly as you can him. But you're never fully "in character" when it's just the two of you. He seems to have a little too much pride to fully act like "Will Prescott" when around you, and you're a little too self-conscious to be fully "Sean Mitchell" around the real one. And yet the person who stands in front of you, leaning awkwardly on one leg, arms hanging loosely, mouth parted slightly--<br/>
<br/>
With a start you realise <i>this</i> is the "Will Prescott" that Sean sees. Why is Sean acting this way with you?<br/>
<br/>
Whatever his reasons, you hesitate to ask them, so you just grab up the tools you need and look over at the machine you're to take apart. Prescott--for that's who he is acting like--follows your lead.<br/>
<br/>
You start searching for where its bolted to the floor, while Prescott is at the other end. "Found three here," you shout.<br/>
<br/>
A shout comes from the other end of the machine: "Another two at this end."<br/>
<br/>
After removing the bolts, you shoulder the machine, putting your whole weight behind it, but it still refuses to budge. Ducking under the machine you check around the base, "You idiot, you missed this one." You say giving him a shove.<br/>
<br/>
He shoves you back and you put him into a simple wrestling hold, but his arms are flailing and he can't get himself free, which confuses you further. "Come on," you taunt. "This shouldn't be that difficult for you."<br/>
<br/>
You're just about to ask him what his problem is when the phone fixed to one of the pillars rings.  You release Prescott, pushing him to one side and jog over. "Hello, Sean Mitchell speaking," you answer in your best telephone voice.<br/>
<br/>
It's Debra, the receptionist. "There's a gentleman here to see you, can you come over please?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, no problem." Looking over at Prescott you shout, "Don't fuck anything up, I'll be back in a bit."<br/>
<br/>
It's not long before you're leaning on the high reception desk smiling at Debra. "You got someone for me?" She nods her head in the direction of the humming sound coming from behind you. You turn and don't quite believe your eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Danny Russo is sitting in the large leather reception chairs and fidgeting with the pass around his neck. When he sees you he springs to his feet and jogs over with a huge grin on his face.<br/>
<br/>
"Bro, good to see you again." He grins, and offers his fist up for you to bump, but you deny him. He looks at you with a sad face.<br/>
<br/>
"Just follow me," you growl. He follows you in silence.<br/>
<br/>
You crash through the door of the workshop, smashing it into the wall. Your sudden entrance makes Prescott jump. "Look at the shit they left in reception!" You jerk your thumb over your shoulder. "What the fuck do you know about this? Golems don't go around putting masks on themselves!" You feel a fury boiling up inside you. Prescott's knees practically give way as he shakes his head and shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
You wheel on Russo and slowly advance on him, stopping right in his face. He looks up at you with a goofy smile. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay at the clubhouse."<br/>
<br/>
Behind you Prescott stammers, a pathetic noise you stop with a raised hand. <br/>
<br/>
"You have to answer my questions, you little shit," you growl at Russo. "You're my slave."<br/>
<br/>
He raises an eyebrow. "Really? Is that a fact?" He sarcastically replies.<br/>
<br/>
You step back, a little surprised as his smile widens, and you gapes as he whips out a baseball cap and pulls it on.<br/>
<br/>
You turn, pointing at Prescott then back to Russo who nods at you. "Yup, went by the clubhouse this morning, dropped your mask on the golem," Russo says. "The new Prescott was very helpful, and after a little bit of persuasion it agreed to spend the day at school, so I hung out as Danny for the rest of the day. Thought I'd come over to say hi, see how you was getting on with it."<br/>
<br/>
"I knew something wasn't right as soon as I spoke with it. It was just like talking to.--" A lump forms in your throat, "myself."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" He slings an arm around your shoulder. "You're a bit of a dweeb, but you're OK, Will. But I think we can trust the golem." He nods over to your double who smiles weakly.<br/>
<br/>
You give a sigh, resigning to the fact that the golem is a perfect representation of yourself; and, you surmise, of whoever's mask you put on it.<br/>
<br/>
The disguised Sean takes the Prescott golem behind some machinery; when he returns a little later, time it's your own double that's wearing the baseball cap.<br/>
<br/>
It's not long until you finish your work, the Danny golem sitting as quiet as it can while watching.<br/>
<br/>
You agree to take it back to the clubhouse after work, where you ask it to sit. Then you murmur the spell's words and remove the mask. The golem returns to its statue form.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~~~~~</div><br/>
It's Friday again and you're feeling a little annoyed by Sean's antics yesterday, especially after he told you he didn't trust the golem.<br/>
<br/>
Walking along the corridor in a daze your thoughts are broken by shouts from the lockers. You look over and see Scott yelling at Will. There's a crash as he pushes your double into the lockers while other students gather around jostling and jeering. But you see Will's face twist in a way that is totally Sean as Scott grabs his baseball cap. With blind fury Will swings for him, and a well-aimed bony fist cracks across Scott's nose.<br/>
<br/>
With Scott dazed, Will wrestles him to the ground and sits on his chest, knees across his arms while Caleb and Keith just watch with their mouths open. Will snatches the cap from Scott's hand and then pulls in close. Scott looks shocked as Will growls something under his breath.<br/>
<br/>
The crowd parts as Will storms off, leaving Scott still on the floor. Caleb and Keith try to take in what's just happened, and then scoot off after Will.<br/>
<br/>
You arrive just as Scott is getting up, holding his bloody nose. "Why the FUCK has he got your cap Sean?" he blurts out.<br/>
<br/>
You say nothing, but feeling sorry for the guy you put a friendly arm around his shoulder. "Looks like you've got more than that to worry about," you say.  He follows your gaze and sees Cameron Huber and Gordon Black looking over. Black says something, stabbing Cameron in the chest with a finger before smirking and leaving. Cameron shoots Scott an icy stare and lopes after Black.<br/>
<br/>
Pushing your arm away, and wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand he says "There is something seriously wrong with Prescott!"<br/>
<br/>
"He's not a bad kid. What did he say to you?"<br/>
<br/>
Before you get an answer Scott grabs his bag and leaves in the same direction as Will, pushing his way through the dispersing crowd. You can only roll your eyes and leave for your next class.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~~~~~</div><br/>
You meet up with Will at Salopek later, where he's wearing the cap with an air of defiance. You ask him about the fight that afternoon. "The jerk was cussing way too much, and when he said I must have stolen it, I just flipped," he growls.<br/>
<br/>
Andy walks in. "Will, I need to you help Jack in the depot. There's a delivery just come in."<br/>
<br/>
As Will starts to leave, you tell him to meet you at the clubhouse after work. He gives you a nod and trots off after Andy.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222221
author_id: smitch69
title: Meet Will at the clubhouse.
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're early and Sean still hasn't arrived at the clubhouse. It's been thirty minutes now and you've done your homework on the laptop and now you're bored. You look over at the stone golem, and with a smile you slip the Danny Russo mask on it. Instantly it transforms and slowly looks up at you. "Sorry about... you know at Salopek."<br/>
<br/>
"You remember that?" You asked surprised.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I remember how pissed you were when you saw me at reception." He mumbles. You think for a moment: it wasn't the golem in the mask, but Sean. You can only think that the golem appears to remember what happened through the mask.<br/>
<br/>
"No problem buddy." You offer him a fist to bump. He responds with a huge grin and bumps it with his own.<br/>
<br/>
"So it's Friday, what would you normally be doing, Danny?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd probably be getting ready for a party." You watch as he spins on the spot, punching the air. "Whooo!" You have to laugh; he really is like a kid that's just had too much soda.<br/>
<br/>
With your tongue in your cheek you ask, "Can you teach me how to Dougie?" His eyes sparkle, and he nods enthusiastically.<br/>
<br/>
He picks some music on your laptop and starts to show you the moves. You have the rhythm of a slug, but Sean isn't all that bad, although he rarely dances at parties unless he's tanked up on beer.<br/>
<br/>
It's only a couple of minutes and you've figured out the moves and are dancing along with Danny. There's a cough from behind, and you turn to see Sean watching. "Oh, have you been there long?" You blush.<br/>
<br/>
"Long enough," he replies, "did you get bored?" You nod with a grin, walk over to cut the music, but Danny continues for a while. It's not until then he sees your double and gives Sean a thumbs up.<br/>
<br/>
Sean gives Danny a little salute. "What did you want to talk about, Will?"<br/>
<br/>
You rub your bicep. "It's about your tattoo. There's something weird about it. I know where it came from, the sheets of notes you found in Taylor's room, but there is something <i>unusual</i> about it."<br/>
<br/>
You sit opposite Sean, and to your surprise Danny sits as well. Opening the <i>Libra</i> you flip through all the pages you can showing Sean the different sigil designs, "See, here and here," you point them out, "let me show you." You remove your shirt and rub the tattoo on your arm, it prickles again and you notice the dull blue ink, changes slightly at your touch.<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa! Special effects!" chirps the golem.<br/>
<br/>
"Nip it, Danny" is all you need to say to silence the golem. "See even with these few sigils you can see the designs in the tattoo. There must be many more designs in the Libra we haven't seen yet, and we've no idea where Taylor found those designs."<br/>
<br/>
You ask Sean to remove your mask, and after he does you gingerly touch the design on his arm. He flinches a little. "You feel it as well?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, a sort of tingling, scratching feeling." He replies. You notice it also changes in the same way as it did on your arm. Sean rubs the surface of first his own arm and then yours; there is no effect or feeling. "That is so weird!" He says.<br/>
<br/>
Your thoughts are broken by a noise from outside, you both turn to see a face at the small window near the door. It quickly disappears and Sean jumps to his feet and sprints out the door. You hear some shouting and pull your shirt back on, but before you can investigate Sean returns, dragging Scott Bickelmeir behind him by the scruff of the neck. Both are screaming. "I know what's going on!" "Yeah, you just saw!" "I've known for a lot longer than that!"<br/>
<br/>
You grab Sean by the shoulder and haul him off the interloper. "Let him talk, he's not going anywhere." With a grunt Sean releases Scott, who drops back next to an uncharacteristically quiet Danny.<br/>
<br/>
Scott looks between you and Sean. "Okay, which one of you is the real Sean?" You nod at your friend, and Scott reaches for your face. You draw back sharply. "I just want to see if you have a birthmark," he says with a gulp.<br/>
<br/>
Slowly you turn your head to show Scott the empty spot behind your right ear. His head drops. "So, he's really dead," he groans. "I thought when I saw you that somehow he was still alive."<br/>
<br/>
"No, you bastard, Taylor's dead!" Sean lunges for Scott again. <br/>
<br/>
"Let him finish!" you yell, blocking and pushing him back. You're glad you're still wearing Sean's mask, as you doubt you could handle Sean in this mood otherwise. "What's the story, Scott?"<br/>
<br/>
Scott's eyes dart between you and Sean, and he runs a tongue over his lip. He tenses, but his head drops. "We were working at Salopek, it was early August," he says softly, and twists as though recounting a painful memory. "We were goofing around and got the idea of going though the dead mail pool. You know it?" You nod. "We found a box, already open. It was full of weird stuff. An old notebook, masks, papers--"  <br/>
<br/>
"Wait, masks?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"And papers?" Sean echoes, rubbing his bicep. "With writing and sketches?" <br/>
<br/>
Scott nods. "Well, we were being stupid. We took most of it. And then the next day the idiots, him and Sawyer-- Sawyer Harrison?" Sean's brow furrows, but he says nothing. "Well, the idiots got fired for getting drunk. And Sawyer had found out about the stuff we took--"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, it was you and Taylor who found the masks," you ask. He nods. "Sawyer wasn't--" <br/>
<br/>
"No, but he found out, and he wouldn't shut up until we'd gave him one." <br/>
<br/>
The tremble that had been building inside you breaks through, and you shiver.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyway," Scott continues. "We were at ... Taylor's house? My house?" His voice falters. "It's so mixed up."<br/>
<br/>
"Just go on."<br/>
<br/>
"We took most of the stuff and met Sawyer out at Eastman. We both went through the notebook and sort of figured out how the masks worked. It was tricky. We needed to get some stuff out of the chem block to finish them off, to seal them up or something. And then we put each other's masks on."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops. "Wait, you're telling me you tried on each others masks?" You look at Sean who seems lost in his own thought. You smack him, and tell Scott to repeat what he just said.<br/>
<br/>
"I said, we sealed up the masks and tried each other's on," he says, and turns pale. "Then Sawyer, the idiot, wanted to play as well, so he grabbed the other mask and put it on. He passed out just like we did but he never came around again. We tried everything, then called the paramedics and they took him and all his stuff to hospital." He shakes his head. "He's still in a coma, last I heard."<br/>
<br/>
That doesn't interest you. "Did you take those masks off?" The hairs on your head are rising.<br/>
<br/>
"No," he says softly. "We couldn't get them off. We looked in the notebook at the part that told you how to get them off, but it was scorched and burnt." He shakes himself.  "We hid the rest of the stuff at Eastman." A profound silence descends. "Scott or Taylor?" the guy who looks like Scott muses. "I'm not sure anymore. It's all confused in my head. He dropped me off and then went back to-- His house? My house?" He looks up at you. "What else could we do? We couldn't get them off." He shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
"Wait," Sean stumbles on his words, "you mean that wasn't the real Taylor in the accident?" Scott nods.<br/>
<br/>
Slowly, you push Scott to the ground. You swallow as you reach for his face. He pulls back slightly, but lets you touch him. You murmur the release spell and pull at his face. He groans and falls back as a mask comes away in your hand.<br/>
<br/>
You and Sean look down. It's not Scott any more: Now he looks just like Sean. Your friend gently pushes his head to side, revealing a purple birthmark behind his ear. <br/>
<br/>
"OH MY GOD!" Danny's voice breaks the silence. He points between the three of you. "One, two, three-- I kinda feel like the odd one out here."<br/>
<br/>
With a groan, Taylor Mitchell slowly comes around and looks up. Sean extends a hand, and he slowly takes it. Sean--the biggest grin you've ever seen spreading across his face--pulls him to his feet, then grabs him in a huge bear hug. "Oh, fuck!" Sean gasps. "Bro, I've missed you <i>so much!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Taylor gasps too. "I've missed you too. I've always been here for ya. I just never could explain or prove who I really was." He grasps Sean tightly. "It really hurt being Scott. I knew how much you hated him. It cut me deep when you pushed me away, you know. But I had to move back to Westside, so I could be near you." They continue to hug each other, and Taylor's eyes squeeze tightly. "You know I can never come back as Taylor right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry," Sean whispers. "We'll work something out. Mom will be so happy to see you."<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach sinks, but you have to say it. "That can't happen," you say, and the words sound really harsh. "The Taylor she knew is dead now. How do you think you'd explain it if you both were to walk through the door?" <br/>
<br/>
Neither one says anything, but you can tell they know you're right.<br/>
<br/>
You beckon Danny over, and you both go outside for a while to leave the brothers to talk.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112222212
author_id: smitch69
title: Off the Leash
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You walk outside and leave the brothers to a bit of private time, you have a good idea what they're talking about as you're still wearing Sean's mask. <br/>
<br/>
You walk over to Sean's pickup, resting a hand on the wing. You realise that if you'd never hit that pot hole and broken down none of this would have happened. You give it a reassuring pat. <br/>
<br/>
The Danny golem who's leaning on the pickup next to you is surprisingly quiet. Casually you look over, it has its head resting on its hands and you can see its eyebrows working as if it's trying to figure something out. <br/>
<br/>
"You OK?" You ask. It blinks and looks up at you. <br/>
<br/>
"This magic stuff is kinda deep, and it's not as much fun as you'd expect."<br/>
<br/>
You raise an eyebrow, "How do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, being what I am," he sags a little, "you know a fake and all; it's a little weird. I still feel like I'm the real Danny, still want to see my friends, still yearn for a game," he pauses for a moment, "yeah, really miss that."<br/>
<br/>
You look at the golem, he does look kinda sad. Much like a puppy on a tight leash; wanting to explore but being held back. <br/>
<br/>
"I felt sorry for Taylor as well," it mumbles, "all the time he was Scott, he was trapped like me. Sean," he looks up at you, "---the real one--- spent all the time pushing away the only person he wanted back the most." You stand with your mouth open. You're pretty sure the golem isn't feeling any of these things. Golems are just mechanical things with no insides, which just imitate what their originals would say or do. That actually makes its words sound even odder: you would scarcely credit the original with this much depth.<br/>
<br/>
"But then they found each other and the worlds cool again, whoo..." There's a sarcastic tone in Danny's voice as he feebly punches the air. "Lucky fucker, at least he's free now." He adds.<br/>
<br/>
You lean back on your elbows. "That's kinda deep Danny, anything else you want to share?"<br/>
<br/>
He thoughtfully rubs the stubble on his face and then sags again "No." He sighs.<br/>
<br/>
You bite your lip and against better judgment decide to let the golem off the leash.<br/>
<br/>
"Danny," he looks up at you, "I'm starving and I expect the guys inside are as well. You're free to leave, and I want you to go get us something from McD's"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes light up, “Really?" His face drops again. "But I don't have any money."<br/>
<br/>
You grab some bills from your pocket, "Here, this should be enough. Get a couple of burger meals for me and Sean, and..." You think for a moment, "Taylor normally has a chicken fillet meal. Get something for yourself if you want."<br/>
<br/>
He pulls a face, "Funny that, I don't feel hungry. But I might grab an apple pie just in case. Erm, you gonna drive me there?"<br/>
<br/>
You throw him the keys to the pickup, "You're kidding me right?" You smile at him and he hi-five's you, "fucking awesome man."<br/>
<br/>
You lob your mobile in a gentle arc to the golem who catches it easily, "Just in case I change my mind." You laugh. You watch as he jumps in the cab and starts the engine with the biggest grin on his face. He winds down the window when you tap on the glass, "Now for FUCKS sake, DO NOT damage the pickup otherwise Sean will kill both of us."<br/>
<br/>
Danny blinks a couple of times and tips his head, "Maybe he'll kill you, but I don't think he can kill a fake."<br/>
<br/>
You frown at him, "OK, let's just say he'll hurt you real bad and then he'll do it again and again. In fact I think I know what he would do," you tap your forehead, "it won't be pretty." His smile drops and you watch as he gingerly drives out of the lot. You wait for a moment wondering if you'll hear the tell tale roar of Sean's pickup as it disappears around the corner, but you hear nothing. You smile reassured that your warning appears to have sunk in.<br/>
<br/>
Making your way over to the door, you peek through the small window. Inside you see Sean and Taylor sitting at the table joking with each other. Sean sees you and beckons you in. You take a seat and look between the two brothers, on the table is the <i>Libra</i> and Taylor is looking at your mask.<br/>
<br/>
Sean tips his head at you. "Had to tell Taylor about the book, you know bring him up to speed. Bro's code; we share everything." He smiles. You nod knowing exactly what he's talking about.<br/>
<br/>
You drum your fingers on your chin. "So I guess you're on the team now."<br/>
<br/>
He looks up through his shaggy bangs, "If that's OK?"<br/>
<br/>
"Bro's code." You smile punching his arm.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor picks up the Scott Bickelmeir mask and shudders, and looks over at Sean. "I'd really like to see mom but I don't think she'd let me anywhere near the house wearing this."<br/>
<br/>
Sean squeezes Taylor's arm and nods, "We'll figure something out."<br/>
<br/>
You nod your head, "So what have you been showing Taylor?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just some of the spells," you watch as he thumbs through a couple of pages, "Since I've taken off your mask all the stuff I knew is fading fast."<br/>
<br/>
Taylor looks at the Bickelmeir mask, "Yeah, I'm hoping that'll work for me as well. There's plenty I want to forget."<br/>
<br/>
Sean bites his lip, and Taylor looks at him. "Yeah, I know." He sniffs slowly spinning the mask on the table. "To the rest of the world, Taylor Mitchell died two months ago." He slams a fist onto the table and his face twists up, "Fuck!" There's an air of desperation in his voice that tug's at your heart. You look over at Sean and you can see he feels it as well. With a sigh Taylor slumps into his arms on the table. Instinctively both you and Sean rest a hand on each shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Scott can't just disappear; you know that, but you don't have to wear the mask all the time." You look over to Sean. "I think we could share the mask, you know we all take turns to be Scott. We have a golem, you know Danny the guy that was here?" He nods, "Well he's like a statue under the mask, we could put Scott's mask on him and send him out instead, but..."<br/>
<br/>
"But...?" Taylor repeats.<br/>
<br/>
"But, it would mean that Taylor couldn't leave the clubhouse." You try to explain.<br/>
<br/>
"People would just think I'm Sean, just like before." He adds.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, and look at Sean who's still shirtless "I guess, it might work but," You swallow, "you're not identical anymore - I guess." You gesture at Sean's tattoo, ironically a sentimental reminder of Taylor after the accident.<br/>
<br/>
Then Taylor's face brightens, "Wait," he points at you, "I could use Sean's mask." He turns to look at Sean. "Right?"<br/>
<br/>
Sean looks over and you touch your, no Sean's face with your fingers. You hadn't considered giving up your inherited life, it had always seemed very amicable; each of you enjoying the others life but now that might be taken away. Something stirs in Sean's memory and you feel deja-vous, is this jealousy? With Taylor's return you might be losing a close friend.<br/>
<br/>
You pull at your lip, and return to the book. "Maybe there's something in here that can help?" You start to thumb backwards through the book, and tap the very first spell. "You know I think this might work."<br/>
<br/>
Sean looks at the spell, "But that will just copy someone, won't it?"<br/>
<br/>
You slowly read the words under your breath trying to make sure you have the correct translation, "I think it's saying. <i>A basic mask will continue to absorb images, mixing and melding them into fresh forms, until the mask is sealed.</i>" You look over a Taylor, "This means we might be able to create a completely new identity for you." His face brightens. "You'll have to think carefully about the people you'd want to use on the mask." You watch as Taylor leans back in the chair and stares into vacant space.<br/>
<br/>
Turning to Sean you ask, "Did you look at the next spell?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but I'm not sure what it does," he turns to the new spell tapping the list of ingredients, "and I don't like this at all."<br/>
<br/>
You carefully read the text, "Fuck, more grave dirt and" you gulp, "a live body." You sigh, like previous spells the description is vague and there are no clues as to what the spell does or what happens to the person. <br/>
<br/>
You're still studying the spell when there's a 'beep-beep'; it's your old mobile that Sean's been using. He looks at the display and then back at you confused. "It's my number, where's my phone Will?" You watch as he reads the message; a frown appears on his face and he storms to the door. Taylor looks at you just as confused and follows your friend.<br/>
<br/>
"Where the FUCK is my pickup Prescott?" Sean growls from the door.<br/>
<br/>
"I got the Danny golem to shoot over to McD's to get us some food, told him to use the pickup. Made sure I told him to take care of her!" You try to explain.<br/>
<br/>
Sean barges past Taylor and pushes you hard, "You idiot, you should know better," he prods your head, "you should fucking know better." You've been Sean for a couple of weeks and his self-possession is such that you don't blink at the familiar hard stare he's giving you, but this doesn't feel right and you wilt and look away.<br/>
<br/>
"Explain!" He shouts throwing the phone at you. You catch it and read the message...<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122222121
author_id: smitch69
title: Runaway Fake
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Sean throws the phone at your head. You catch it, giving him a hard stare.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Sorry about the pickup</i>, the display reads.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor looks over your shoulder, "Who's sorry?" he asks, but you don't reply; instead you call the mobile.<br/>
<br/>
To your surprise, you hear it ringing from outside, but when you walk out with the brothers close on your tail you find no sign of Danny or the pickup. <br/>
<br/>
"I still don't see my pickup, Prescott!" Sean growls, but you gesture him to be quiet as you follow the annoying ringtone. You finally track it down and discover a McD's bag. Inside is your phone along with three burger meals and some change. Scrawled on the receipt is; <i>don't worry I'll look after the pickup, Danny</i>.<br/>
<br/>
Grabbing the bag you return to the clubhouse, the brothers following you. Sean jabs you in the back, "Where's my pickup!" You say nothing as you wonder why the golem has acted in this way.<br/>
<br/>
“Shit," you mumble.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" Sean growls.<br/>
<br/>
"I think I fucked up," you reply, "I told the Danny golem <i>you're free to leave</i> and get some McD's for us."<br/>
<br/>
"Why did you say that you moron?"<br/>
<br/>
"It told me it was sad being locked up in the clubhouse." You whine, sounding more like your old self than the Sean disguise you're wearing.<br/>
<br/>
"Sad?", Sean rolls his eyes. "It's a golem, they don't have feelings they're only <i>pretending</i>." He uses his fingers to quote the word. He gives you a hard shove, and you bite your lip as it glances off your shoulder. "What about my pickup? You should know how important that is to me,” he looks over at Taylor, “... us.”<br/>
<br/>
He draws in close to your face, breathing heavy. His eyes bore into yours unblinking. You feel Taylor's hand on your shoulder gently pull at you, and he whispers something but it doesn't register. You feel the hand tighten on your shoulder but you're so focused on Sean you pull free of Taylor's grasp.<br/>
<br/>
Sean tips his head, "Get... out... of... my... FUCKING FACE!" He growls flecking your face with spittle. You're surprised when he trips you and pins you to the ground, you feel him put his whole weight into keeping you down as you struggle. With a curl of a lip he mutters the release spell and rips his mask from your face, and the world goes dark.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
The darkness and the roar that fills your ears begin to recede; you hear a voice, “Will... Will...” <br/>
<br/>
You blink, as a figure comes into view; “Will?” Your eyes snap open and you scramble backwards into a corner; the figure offers you a hand. “Will, it’s me Taylor.” You glance up, and focus on the out stretched hand, you remember Sean's tattoo; it’s missing. Gingerly you take his hand and he pulls you to your feet.<br/>
<br/>
“What the hell happened? Sean’s a <i>good guy</i>,” you sigh, “I’ve never seen that before.”<br/>
<br/>
“He's got quite a temper," Taylor says. "I've told him he's like a soda can, people are always shaking him, but he won't let the bubbles out. But then someone will accidentally knock his top off. Oh, man! Those people find out they've opened up a can of whup-ass on themselves." He gently punches you in the shoulder. "You shoulda just backed down and let him cool off."<br/>
<br/>
Taylor pulls out a handful of fries from the bag, “I suppose we find this fake, and we’ll find the pickup?” He says between munching on the fries.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, it said it missed lacrosse. Don’t they practice on Saturdays?” Taylor looks at you blankly and shrugs, “It’s late, we’re not going to be able to find it this time of night.” You say.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor frowns and spins Scott’s mask on the table. You rest a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, I know it's been tough but you don’t have to be Scott,” you push your own mask towards him, “you can be me if it helps.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks Will, I still have a lot of bad memories being Scott.” He puts the mask to his face and slumps on the table. You take Scott’s mask and push it on your own face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
You groan as you wake, to see your duplicate pulling on your clothes. He turns and stands a little awkward, “Kinda different to what I’ve been used to.” He says as he hooks some hair behind his ear.<br/>
<br/>
Glancing down, you quickly take in Scott’s form as you get dressed; plate like pecs hang off your chest, it's a tight lean body.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor looks as if he’s remembered something and laughs, “Sean’s booked a day off for you, erm...  me tomorrow. That’s good I can help you look for the fake, and Sean can cool off at Salopek by himself.”<br/>
<br/>
Outside, you discover Sean has taken your pickup which just leaves Scott’s. “I’ll give you a lift back home, get in.” You say.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor jumps out at your house, it’s all dark apart from a light in the kitchen. He pulls a face, “I expect that’s dad waiting up for me,” he gulps, “I'll give you a call tomorrow.”<br/>
<br/>
As you drive back to Scott’s house, you mull over the masks memories; a mixture from both the real Scott and Taylor. You flinch at the feelings of loss that Taylor experienced every time he saw Sean, the feelings of rejections every time he pushed him away. It still tugs on your mind as you go to sleep.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
You’re woken abruptly by your phone; it’s Will, he wants to meet you at Westside. You ask if he needs a lift but he says he’s OK, with a groan you get up and shower. You pull on some shorts and a polo, stepping into some flip-flops as you stumble down stairs only pausing to grab some toast before running out.  <br/>
<br/>
You skid to a halt in Westside’s parking lot, a quick glance around and there’s plenty of other vehicles, <i>expensive ones</i>; but there’s no sign of Will. You sit on the hood of the pickup and wait; after a while your surprised to see Lisa’s compact pull up. You give a deep sigh when Will get’s out and gives her a peck on the cheek.<br/>
<br/>
“What is it with you and Sean?” You ask.<br/>
<br/>
“What? Ohh, Lisa?” He gives a mischievous grin, “I guess it’s a Mitchell thing.” He laughs.<br/>
<br/>
“Shit,” you groan, “so what’s going on? Why are we out here?”<br/>
<br/>
“I called Danny, I got his number from Huber. Danny said he hadn’t seen Sean’s pickup.” He kicks at the gravel, “Told me there was practice here today. I thought it might be worthwhile keeping an eye on him in case the fake shows up.”<br/>
<br/>
“Good idea.” You say walking to the sports field.<br/>
<br/>
You see Danny in goal, he's confidently co-ordinating the defence, and shouting plays to the team. You see him save a goal, his reactions are fast and he's already shouting as he launches the ball back into the field.<br/>
<br/>
The team scores again just as the final whistle blows and Danny dances around the goal shouting. The rest of the team runs down and joins Danny in the celebrations.<br/>
<br/>
You let out a shrill whistle, Danny looks over and you beckon him. He high fives, and bumps fists with the others before jogging over.  He holds out his fist to your double; Will looks at it for a moment and with an awkward jerk bumps it.<br/>
<br/>
“Erm, hey... Bickelmeir. Good game, did you see it?” He chirps excitedly.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, you gave some good direction out there.”<br/>
<br/>
“Captain’s job.” He grins giving you a salute.<br/>
<br/>
You start to spin a story about Sean’s pickup being stolen, but Danny quickly looses interest and you frown as he starts playing keep-me-up, bouncing the ball on the edge of his goalie stick. “For fucks sake give it a rest.” You sigh. He stops immediately and looks at you attentively.<br/>
<br/>
Will gives you a sideways glance, “You don’t think?” he says under his breath.<br/>
<br/>
“Do you know where Sean’s pickup is?” You ask, Danny nods. “Are you the fake?” He nods again.<br/>
<br/>
“Was it you I spoke to this morning? You said you didn’t know anything about the pickup.” Will says.<br/>
<br/>
“Pfft, I don’t have to answer your questions” Danny curtly replies.<br/>
<br/>
“This is so fucked up. Why did you run away?” You ask.<br/>
<br/>
He shuffles his feet. “You said I was <i>free to leave</i>”<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes, “OK, you're not free anymore and you have to do whatever Sean, Taylor or myself tell you. Understand?" He blinks a few times, and nods. <br/>
<br/>
“So where’s Sean’s pickup you little shit.” Will snarls<br/>
<br/>
“Parked behind my house, I looked after her just like you told me to.” Danny mumbles.<br/>
<br/>
“And what about the real Danny?” You ask.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, he was a bit surprised to see me, but I took care of him real quick.”<br/>
<br/>
“What the fuck did you do?”<br/>
<br/>
Danny points over to the parking lot, “He’s in the trunk.” Your mouth drops and you run over to Danny’s Honda.<br/>
<br/>
“Keys, keys!” You snap your fingers. He hands them to you and you quickly open the trunk. Inside there is a bound and gagged Danny, his eyes flip between you and Will. As the fake looks over your shoulder Danny’s eye’s widen and he struggles hard against the ropes. You hold up a finger, “Danny,” you sigh, “I’ll be right back.” His eyes widen again as you close the trunk. You return to kneading your forehead and shoot a hard stare at the Danny-golem who just shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
“We should let him go, its not right.” Will mumbles<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, but what are you going to tell him about fake-monkey-boy here?” You tap your forehead, “Think, think,” and then you gasp, “the new spell. That special ingredient we need,” you pat the trunk, “we could use the real Danny, kill two birds with one stone.” You smile waggling your eyebrows, Will just frowns at you.<br/>
<br/>
[Owner's note: Locked to prevent further continuity problems.]</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122222122
author_id: smitch69
title: Takeout Troubles
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You catch the phone and glance at the message; <i>help I'm trapped at mcdonalds. danny xx</i>. You just roll your eyes and sigh; Taylor smirks as he reads it over your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?" Sean asks. His lip twitches.<br/>
<br/>
"I sent Danny to get us some burgers, but it looks like the idiot has got himself into trouble."<br/>
<br/>
"And how did he get there?" Sean's tone is sharp.<br/>
<br/>
"He's using the pickup." You slap his back. "Don't worry I told him to look after her."<br/>
<br/>
"My pickup? Fuck! He'd better bring it back perfect or I'll swear I'll--!" Sean's face turns red.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor quickly steps between you and Sean, and places his hand on your chest. "Give me a minute, Will," he murmurs. You watch as he throws an arm around Sean's shoulder and walks him to the other side of the clubhouse. You get a sudden feeling of déjà vu as Taylor talks to Sean, who is nodding slowly. <br/>
<br/>
It's not long before they return: Sean only glances at you, and it looks like he's struggling with his thoughts. "It's your golem, you should go," he mutters. <br/>
<br/>
"But it's your mask!" you retort.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor pulls at your shoulder. "And I'm hungry. Come on, Will, let's go rescue the damn thing and get those burgers. And you, big guy--" He turns to Sean and gives him a brotherly punch to the arm. "Think about what I said, and take some time to chill out." Sean smiles weakly. You scoop up the two masks on the table and throw them into your backpack and hand it to Taylor.<br/>
<br/>
----<br/>
<br/>
You take your old pickup. It's not as nice as Sean's ride but it does remind you about home and your own life. From the backpack Taylor pulls the two masks and looks at Scott's. "It sucks I know--" you start.<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" he interrupts. "How <i>could</i> you know? I mean, being trapped under a mask, unable to escape." He sighs. <br/>
<br/>
Obviously he's dreading what comes next: He will have to put Scott's mask back on and return to the life he has just escaped--and he's going to have to do it sooner rather than later, since it would never do for people to catch sight of two "Sean Mitchells." "It's not an ideal solution," you cautiously say. "But you could put <i>my</i> mask on instead."<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft, lesser of two evils I guess," he mutters. You wince and frown. He gives you a sideways glance, then punches your arm. "You take things too seriously--just like Sean. I'm just glad to be out of Scott's mask," he laughs. He raises your mask to his face and slumps back in the seat.<br/>
<br/>
The meaning of the golem's text message becomes clear when you pull into the restaurant parking lot and spot the Honda. Danny Russo's Honda. The <i>real</i> Danny Russo's Honda. "Fuck," you mutter, and shake Taylor awake. You flinch a little at the vacant look that washes over the face of the guy who looks like Will Prescott, and feel a twinge of Sean's native impatience. "Get the cobwebs out," you growl. "We're in trouble. Fake Danny's in there, and so is the real Danny." You nod at the Honda.<br/>
<br/>
He just blinks. "Well, if you say so," he hazards. "If the fake has any sense he'll be hiding in the rest room."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know how much sense he's got." A cold spot forms near your heart. "Well, come on." You grab up Scott's mask--maybe it will prove useful--and there's a clink as you throw it in the backpack.<br/>
<br/>
You're halfway across the parking lot when Taylor stops in his tracks and waves you over to look at a car. "Check out this beauty," he says in a dreamy voice.<br/>
<br/>
You look blankly at the station wagon. "What? It's a car."<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's a classic 1967 Buick Skylark Sports Wagon." He beams.<br/>
<br/>
"And?" you curtly reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Philistine." He works his way around the car, looking at it from different angles. "Looks like she's in good condition. Man I could really make her special, like I did with Sean's pickup."<br/>
<br/>
It's an odd sight: Will Prescott being fascinated by a car. You have to pull him away, but he still keeps looking over his shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
Inside, you press the backpack into Prescott's arms and let your gaze drift over the crowd until your eyes light on ... Danny Russo? "Gimme Scott's phone," you murmur to your friend. "You order up the food, and I'll find the golem. Wait!" You pull Scott's mask from the backpack and tuck it under your shirt.<br/>
<br/>
The restroom is probably the place to start. Danny nods at you as you pass him, and you smile back. Inside the restroom you dial Sean's mobile. From one of the toilet stalls you hear it ring. "Shit!" someone shouts from the same stall. "Fuck! Fuck!"<br/>
<br/>
You rap hard on the door. "Open up you idiot!" There's a thud, and the door opens. Inside you see the Danny golem with his vest over his head. "The fuck are you doing?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
His eyes pop as you yank the vest down from his face. "Hiding?" he stammers.<br/>
<br/>
"We're here to rescue you, you fool." It is a lucky thing to find it in this private spot. You chuck it under the chin and then rip the mask from its face; the golem instantly returns to its stone-like form. You tuck Danny's mask under your shirt and push Scott's mask onto it.<br/>
<br/>
Bickelmeir rears back and looks around, "What the fuck? Where am I?"<br/>
<br/>
"Shh! Look at me. You know who I am?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sean Mitchell?" it replies uncertainly.<br/>
<br/>
"Close enough. You know you have to do what I say, right?" The golem nods. "Right, just play along. You came with me and Will Prescott to get some burgers. Okay?" Again, it nods. It'll have to do, and you pull it after you and exit the restroom.<br/>
<br/>
Then you curse to yourself: Prescott--hands in pockets and shifting from foot to foot--is at Danny's table, talking to Russo and his friend. As you watch, Russo holds up a fist to your replacement; as you would, he returns the fist bump awkwardly. <br/>
<br/>
Reluctantly, you join them. "Hey, look who I ran into," you dryly say, and jerk your head at Bickelmeir.<br/>
<br/>
Prescott's eyes--<i>your</i> greyish eyes--cloud over as he does a double-take at Bickelmeir. "Hey Scott," he says in voice that sounds carefully neutral. "And look who I found."<br/>
<br/>
So you greet Danny. "And who's your friend," you nod at the guy sitting next to him. He's wearing an oversized woollen beanie hat pulled over the back of his head; tufts of brown unevenly cut hair sprout out from under it. His hazel eyes give him a relaxed look, but his eyebrows suggest that he's a little confused. He's wearing a white v-neck vest and a checked shirt.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh right, this is my bud Noah Lepley. He plays defence on the team, but he's not as good as me." Danny grins.<br/>
<br/>
"In your dreams maybe," Noah laughs almost pushing Danny from his seat.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that your Buick, Noah?" Prescott asks with eyes wide.<br/>
<br/>
"You like it?" Noah beams. "It used to be my grandpa's. He gave it to me when he had to move into a retirement home. Wanna check it out?"<br/>
<br/>
"Do I, fuck yeah!" Prescott replies. <br/>
<br/>
"We were getting takeout, Will," you remind him.<br/>
<br/>
"Meet you back at the clubhouse later?"<br/>
<br/>
You suppress a grimace and give in. Will and Noah are already talking about the station wagon as you pull Scott after you over to the counter to await your order. "You got the keys?" you ask the golem.<br/>
<br/>
It pats its pockets, and stares blankly at the keys it pulls out. "Whose are these?" it asks. It does a double take as it looks down at its clothes. "And whose clothes am I wearing?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're mine," you say, taking Sean's keys from him. "They go with my pickup. We'll talk about the other stuff on the way back."<br/>
<br/>
"Back where?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just shut up."<br/>
<br/>
It frowns darkly at you. It takes you a moment to realise that you've been acting with "Scott" exactly the way Sean would: with barely concealed loathing.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
It was a frustrating journey back, the golem was asking a lot of questions and it had grated on you to such an extent you'd ripped its mask off. But you had reluctantly planted it back on the golem when you'd arrived. Inside the clubhouse you point at a chair. "Sit! And shut up!" You growl.<br/>
<br/>
Sean has prepared all the ingredients for the next spell. You study the Libra and begin to scratch the required sigil into the tables surface while he talks to the golem.<br/>
<br/>
"That fucker is screwed up," Sean says, "it must be broken or something, it still thinks it's the real Bickelmeir."<br/>
<br/>
You hear a vehicle pull up, and a couple of minutes later your double stumbles in. "Just got a lift back in Noah's Buick," he tells you, "because some idiot forgot to give me the keys to the pickup!"<br/>
<br/>
"You brought him here?" You stammer.<br/>
<br/>
"It's cool, I waited for him to go before I came in." You watch as he pulls a mask from the backpack. "Took the opportunity to get myself a copy of Noah as well; I used one of your blanks," he grins.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that the guy with the '67 sports wagon? It is a beauty," chirps the golem.<br/>
<br/>
Your double looks distant for a moment. "You know we could really pull her into shape and make her into something really special," Taylor grins at the golem.<br/>
<br/>
"FUCK! I can't go through this again," Sean yells, and without warning he rips the mask from the golem throwing it across the room. You watch as it ricochets off the wall and smashes through the window.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you mad?" You yell as Taylor goes outside to retrieve the mask.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor returns very pale. "You'd better get out there damn quick." You look at Sean. "Now!" Taylor yells.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222221221
author_id: smitch69
title: The Silent Partner
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Taylor who's wearing your mask stumbles through the door. "You'd better get out there damn quick." You look at Sean. "NOW!" Taylor yells.<br/>
<br/>
Outside Noah is laying on the ground, a pool of blood is collecting around his head. Beside him is a McDonalds takeout bag. "I must have left it in his car," Taylor says quietly.  <br/>
<br/>
On the ground; pieces of glass from the broken window and Scott's mask. You're still wearing Sean's mask and his first aid training comes into focus. "Can you hear me Noah?" you ask, he mumbles something as you check his pulse: it's weak.<br/>
<br/>
Sean kneels; carefully examining Noah. "We've got a problem; It's his carotid artery," he says quietly. You take a look; rhythmic spurts of blood escape from the wound, a shard of glass still penetrates his neck.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor reaches out to touch it. "Shouldn't we take it out?" he asks, but Sean bats his hand away.<br/>
<br/>
"Worst thing you could do," murmurs Sean. He pulls hard at your sleeve ripping it off and carefully pushes it to the wound; applying pressure trying to slow the bleeding. "Noah, do you hurt anywhere else?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," he groans.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck, why did you bring him here!" you growl at Taylor.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor turns to Sean. "You shouldn't have thrown the mask, and why <i>are</i> you so jealous of the golem?" Sean says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to die," Noah's voice falters.<br/>
<br/>
"Noah, you're not going to die. I promise you," Sean says reassuringly. You look at the blood on the ground, it's getting bigger. Sean gives you a look that betrays the message he's just passed to Noah.<br/>
<br/>
Noah grimaces and whimpers, a tear traces it's way down his cheek. He stumbles on a word and his eyes close.<br/>
<br/>
"Noah! Look at me," you say in a firm tone. You pick up Scott's mask and look at the bloody sleeve Sean's holding, and push the mask onto Noah's face.<br/>
<br/>
Sean gasps as Noah's body changes beneath his hands; the glass from the wound drops to the ground. "What the fuck are you doing Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe it will slow down the bleed, maybe stop it."<br/>
<br/>
Sean feels for a pulse. "It feels regular, but it's still very weak," he says cautiously. He checks his neck, there is no sign of a wound.<br/>
<br/>
You gently shake the person awake that looks like Scott. "How do you feel?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Like shit."<br/>
<br/>
"This is bad, we've no idea of his condition now," Sean lowers his voice, "he could be dying under the mask and we'd never know. We should get him inside while we can." You help Bickelmeir as he stumbles into the clubhouse, and lay him on the table.<br/>
<br/>
"An ambulance wouldn't get here in time would it," you whisper. Sean shrugs, the consequences of throwing the mask are only just hitting him. "We should talk to Noah about the next spell," his eyes widen, "we're still not sure what it does, but it might protect him in some way."<br/>
<br/>
"Or turn him into one of those stone golems," he adds.<br/>
<br/>
"Or he dies," you sigh. You return to Scott. "Noah," for that's who he really is, "how do you feel?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tired and cold," he replies "Am I going," his voice falters, "going to die?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're weak, there was an accident and you got a nasty cut to your neck. You've lost a lot of blood."<br/>
<br/>
He touches his neck and looks at his hand. "I don't understand, there's no blood," he blinks, "and this isn't my hand." He looks confused.<br/>
<br/>
"Believe me when I say it's magic," you sigh. "Magical masks that change the way people look, let me show you." You gently raise Noah to see the reflection of Scott Bickelmeir in the mirror propped up against the wall.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that me?" he frowns.<br/>
<br/>
"Just magic," you reply. "We think you're getting weaker under the mask, but we have a spell that might save you."<br/>
<br/>
"Have I got anything to loose?"<br/>
<br/>
Sean's native honesty doesn't allow you to lie. "Whatever happens I can guarantee that Noah Lepley in one form or another will be returning home tonight," you reply, and try to smile as he shifts uneasily on the table.<br/>
<br/>
"OK, what do I have to do."<br/>
<br/>
"Just lay back and relax."<br/>
<br/>
While you scatter grave dirt over Scott's form, Sean readies himself to attend to the wound once the masks removed. Tears are forming in Noah's eyes again, "I'm scared, I'm not going to die right? You promised." <br/>
<br/>
"Yes, we promised," you reply. You pull at Scott's face, and an unconscious Noah Lepley is laying on the table. You check his pulse while Sean attempts to stem the flow of blood. "Weak," you say, "very weak."<br/>
<br/>
"We need some hair, like for the other golem--for a master." You pull some hairs from your head and lay them on the dirt. You strike a match but Sean holds up his hand.<br/>
<br/>
"It's gone: the hair--it's gone!" He shouts.<br/>
<br/>
You blink, there's nothing there. You try again and the same thing happens, Sean looks worriedly over at Noah who is gasping and gulping for air. You pull some hair from your doubles head and lay it on the dirt, within seconds it also vanishes. "Will, he's not going to last much longer," Sean says in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
You reach over to grab some hair from Sean but he ducks. "No, I've fucked up his life too much already," Sean growls. You look at Noah, who's turned very pale. Sean grabs some hair from Noah's head and throws it on the pile of dirt. "There! Now light it will you, before its too late."<br/>
<br/>
You light the dirt: A brief, hot purple fire lights the clubhouse and you all stumble backwards from the heat. You blink and sag as you see a grey stoney figure laying on the table.<br/>
<br/>
Sean looks at the face of the thing that's laying on the table; unlike the featureless golem you've created, this is clearly Noah. His eyes are closed and it looks like he's in a very deep sleep. "Is he alive?" Taylor asks. It's not clear if he is or not, you touch the Libra to Noah and the next page is released.<br/>
<br/>
"Fucker!" You growl. The book gives no help apart from repeating what you already know. You snap your fingers at your double. "Get Noah's mask and seal it up, pronto!"<br/>
<br/>
Taylor returns with the mask and you place it on the stone figure, its surface changes returning Noah to the table top. It wakes almost instantly and sits up rubbing its eyes. You notice there is no wound or scar--of course Taylor took a copy of Noah before the accident.<br/>
<br/>
Noah touches his neck. "It worked didn't it--I'm alive right?" He asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I think it worked," you stammer, "but we need to do some checks first." You pull your friends to one side. "I'm not sure if that's the real Noah or just the mask talking, one of us still might be his master."<br/>
<br/>
You return to Noah, who's plucking at the blood stained shirt and each ask him whether he's a slave, each time he says <i>no</i>. You check the Libra. "It says the hair of the <i>master</i> controls the <i>slave</i>," you paraphrase.<br/>
<br/>
"But I used Noah's own hair, does that mean he's his own master?" Sean replies uncertainly.<br/>
<br/>
"What's the last thing you remember Noah?" You ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Almost dying on this table, and you throwing a match at me; then waking up again," he shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
The mask shouldn't have recorded any events after Taylor captured his image in the car. You reach for Noah's face and he pulls back. "It's OK, I just need to check something--please," you reassure him. He relaxes and you say the release spell and take off Noah's mask replacing it with Scott's. "OK, who are you?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Noah," he replies and pauses for a moment, "and Scott Bickelmeir?" He jumps off the table and looks at himself in the mirror.<br/>
<br/>
"Do you remember what we were talking about before?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, you were all asking if I was your slave."<br/>
<br/>
You bite at a nail--one of Sean's habits--as you ponder the conundrum. "I can only think we've sort of short circuited the spell. Making Noah inside the golem shell his own master, like a magical feedback loop."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean, <i>golem shell</i>?" Noah asks. You explain the way the masks work, and he's shocked when you show him your golem. "You mean I look like under this mask?" He asks. He goes very quiet, and then mumbles "I want to be myself again."<br/>
<br/>
You replace Noah's mask, and he looks at his reflection again. "There's a lot of blood," he says pulling at his clothes. "I died--didn't I."<br/>
<br/>
"No, you <i>almost</i> died." You reply.<br/>
<br/>
"I need to go home and think." Noah mumbles.<br/>
<br/>
You throw your old pickup keys at your double. "Can you give me a lift back to McDonalds?" Taylor asks, and Noah nods.<br/>
<br/>
Outside you watch as Noah picks up his beanie hat and pulls it on. Taylor rests a hand on Noah's shoulder but he shrugs it off as they walk to the Buick.<br/>
<br/>
You clean up the blood as best you can, at the table you watch Sean spin Scott's mask with his finger. "You want to go home as yourself, and I'll take Scott's mask?" You ask.<br/>
<br/>
"My dad told me once that you should walk a mile in another man's shoes before making any judgements; maybe its time to see if that's true." With a weak smile Sean pushes Scott's mask to his face.<br/>
<br/>
You shake Scott Bickelmeir who is now slumped on the table and he wakes with a shiver. "You OK?" you ask, he just sniffs.<br/>
<br/>
"We'll see if I can live with myself I guess," he grumbles. You watch as he leaves in Scott's pickup.<br/>
<br/>
You're getting ready to leave and remember the next spell in the Libra. You glance over it and curse to yourself.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112222212212
author_id: smitch69
title: Dead Man Walking
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's Saturday and you're grateful for the mundane tasks you've been given in Salopek's warehouse. Your head is still spinning as you think of what's happened over the past day. Your double is sorting through different boxes on the shelves and you shake your head, because you know it's Sean's twin brother Taylor beneath your mask; only 24 hours ago he was trapped beneath the mask of Scott Bickelmeir. It was a perfect reunion between the brothers, but the evening ended in disaster when Noah Lipley <i>almost</i> died. You'd taken the decision to pause his life--possibly indefinitely--with the new spell from the Libra.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
"This is weird, the place hasn't changed at all," Taylor says. He looks at you for a moment. "What's the matter? I can always tell when Sean is worried about something."<br/>
<br/>
"It's Noah," you reply. "I'm worried about how he's going to handle his--change." Taylor says nothing, just nods.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
After lunch Taylor gets a call; he talks for a couple of minutes and hangs up. "That was Danny Russo. Noah never turned up for a lacrosse game this morning."<br/>
<br/>
"We'll have to go search for him," you say, "send a text to Sean and get him to meet us here after work." Your double looks blankly at you. "He's wearing Scott's mask," you sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"Shit you're kidding me? What is he doing torturing himself? He loathes Scott."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, I offered to step in for Scott but Sean insisted." Taylor sends a message to Scott's phone, and he nods at you when he gets a reply.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
When you leave you're surprised to find Danny Russo leaning up against Sean's pickup. "I thought this would be more useful tracking down Noah. After all they are best friends," he says. "I went back to the clubhouse and dropped Scott's mask onto the golem, his head is still fucked up but I persuaded him to bring me here."<br/>
<br/>
"Ok, good idea," you say, but all you see is Danny grinning at you as he shuffles his feet. You turn and see Andy Keyes--Sean's Foreman.<br/>
<br/>
"Guys, great job today. You finished it real quick," he says looking at Danny who's already lost interest and is staring into the distance.<br/>
<br/>
"No problem," you reply as Andy smiles and leaves.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyway," Sean continues as his vision refocuses, "Taylor I think you should go and wait at the clubhouse in case he returns there."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, as you've got my face on have a look at that new spell as well," you say. He gives you a salute, and punches Sean's arm before leaving.<br/>
<br/>
You throw and catch the pickup keys. "So Danny, you wanna drive? Oh wait you might scratch the pickup," you tease.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh ha-ha. Yeah, I know the golem looked after her," he says as he snatches the keys from your hand.<br/>
<br/>
Sean eases himself back into Danny's psyche and a familiar grin appears on his face. It takes a while to visit Noah's regular hangouts, but he's nowhere to be found. Sean drives back to Westside and parks near the gym, "Danny and Noah hang out here; you know--to practice."<br/>
<br/>
In the parking lot you see the real Danny Russo's Honda. "You stay here," you say to Sean, "I'll go see if Danny's heard anything."<br/>
<br/>
Walking around the side of the gym you hear a pu-domp, pu-domp, pu-domp of a ball against a wall--Danny's alone. "Hey!" you shout. He stops and smiles weakly, you join him as he squats on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
He looks up at you expectantly. "You heard anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing yet, but I'm sure he's OK," you reassure him.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't understand," Danny replies, "he never misses a game, and he's always texting jokes and stuff but I've not heard anything since he left McDonalds yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
It's strange to see Danny in this state, its like someone has drained all the energy and fizz from him just leaving him empty. "I'm going back to McDonalds to see if he's there, you wait here in case he returns," you tell him--he doesn't look at you only nods.<br/>
<br/>
Walking back to the pickup you see a flash of light from the roof of the school; you dismiss it, but then you see it again.<br/>
<br/>
You ask Sean about the roof; he smacks his forehead. "Damn, I forgot he showed me how to get up to the roof once," he thinks for a moment. "Yeah, there's a fire escape that goes all the way to the roof, but you have to push a trash dumpster over and climb on it to reach the bottom steps."<br/>
<br/>
You tell Sean to park around the corner, and keep out of sight. You find the fire escape, but the dumpster has already been pushed into place. The smell from the trash is strong and you wince before quickly making your way up to the roof. When you reach the top you see a lone figure sitting--his back towards the school clock above.<br/>
<br/>
As you walk over you call. "Noah?" but there's no reply. <br/>
<br/>
You recognise the bloody shirt and the beanie hat from last night. You look over Noah's shoulder, and you're dazzled by the flash of a camera he's holding as it takes another picture--in his other hand is a mask.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh Noah," you sigh and sit next to him.<br/>
<br/>
Noah's face is that of a golem, cold grey stone; but this time his eyes are open but a sad expression remains fixed. The camera flashes again and you prise it from his hand. Flipping back through the hundreds of pictures the only thing that changes is the time on the school's clock which can be seen over Noah's shoulder; suddenly the image is significantly different--it's a restored Noah. The picture shows tears in his eyes; the next shows him raising his hand to his forehead, and what follows only shows Noah, his face grey and stone like. The time on the clock says 8:37.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, he's been sitting there for almost twelve hours. Below you can see Danny sitting where you left him, his head in his hands--so close.<br/>
<br/>
You raise Noah's mask to his face, and instantly he returns to his true form and reels back; you catch him just before he falls.<br/>
<br/>
"Sean?" He looks confused, "what time is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's late," you murmur. He looks at you and pushes you away, he sees Danny below, and goes to shout but you stop him. "We need to talk first," you say. He reaches for his camera, but you push it away, "Seriously--we should talk."<br/>
<br/>
"By the way how did you know how to get the mask off," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"It wasn't difficult," Noah replies, "I just remembered the words, you pulled it off enough times."<br/>
<br/>
You take him down the fire escape and find Sean who's found Noah's Buick.<br/>
<br/>
Noah's reassured when he sees Danny, but you don't tell him it's Sean disguised. "I'm sorry about the game," Noah says, "I got kinda delayed."<br/>
<br/>
"No problem bro'," he replies bumping Noah's fist and shoots a huge Danny grin.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's go to the clubhouse, we have a lot to talk about," you say. "Danny, you ride with Noah."<br/>
<br/>
At the clubhouse Taylor is sitting at the table, your golem in its stone form sits opposite. Noah shivers when he sees it, and you put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze.<br/>
<br/>
"OK, come over here," Taylor grins, "I think I've figured out this new spell." He shows you the interior of Scott Bickelmeir's mask, it's not the usual shiny surface but grey and dull like the golem's skin that sits opposite.<br/>
<br/>
He pushes the Libra over. "Look, you only need a spoonful of dirt and some hair. I put the mask on the golem, and it told me it had to follow my orders. When I put it on, it didn't feel any different."<br/>
<br/>
"You use some of your own hair?" you ask. Taylor nods.<br/>
<br/>
Noah glances between you and Taylor. "Twins or just another mask," he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"It's complicated," you find yourself saying again.<br/>
<br/>
Sean sits, and pulls Danny's mask from his face and slumps to the table. Noah's shocked when he realises he's been talking to a fake Danny. After a couple of minutes Sean looks up and shakes his head. Noah looks at you. "Triplets?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, like I said, it's complicated." You remove Sean's mask.<br/>
<br/>
When you wake, you pluck at Sean's loose clothes that hang off your smaller frame and sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"So this is what you really look like, with no masks," Noah asks.  <br/>
<br/>
"Yes, this is who we are," you reply as Noah looks at Scott's, Sean's, Danny's and your mask in turn.<br/>
<br/>
He flips through the pictures on his camera. "Is this what I look like?" He says showing you a picture of his golem face.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. When you remove the mask its like you've been paused; the grey covering protects you from dying," you grimace at the words. He hunches his shoulders and looks at the pictures again, slowly flipping through them. You bite your lip, he looks lost.<br/>
<br/>
You watch as Sean puts a strong arm around him and talks to him softly. After a while he pulls Taylor over who continues talking with Noah.<br/>
<br/>
"Noah's got some problems," Sean tells you.<br/>
<br/>
"No shit," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Sean frowns at you. "He was in trouble before his," he sighs, "change. He was already suffering from a form of identity crisis."<br/>
<br/>
"Like most of the other students at school?" you grin.<br/>
<br/>
"This is serious Will. He had no real idea of who he was, where he belongs or where he wants to go. He was still finding himself, but now he's lost what identity he had altogether."<br/>
<br/>
"So what can we do?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we could charge his mask with memories of purpose and direction--Taylor could wear it for a while. Or we could give Noah a mental crutch to lean on, let him wear," he shrugs, "my mask maybe."</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211221122211122222122122
author_id: smitch69
title: Let Noah wear Sean's mask
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You look at Noah; he's resting his head in his hands while Taylor talks to him.<br/>
<br/>
"So you think if we put him under your mask it might help," you ask Sean.<br/>
<br/>
"Do you think it helped you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess--it might give him something to hold onto," you say. Sean follows you as you join Noah and Taylor.<br/>
<br/>
"Noah, we know its difficult; very difficult and scary. But we think," you grasp Sean's shoulder, "that wearing another mask may help you--get a different perspective perhaps."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you take Sean's mask from the table and hand it to him, "Sean's a good guy, we think you should wear his mask for a while. Have a break from your own while you work things out."<br/>
<br/>
"But I still haven't seen mom yet--I was going to use Sean's mask to visit her," Taylor grumbles. Sean raises a finger to his mouth and Taylor frowns.<br/>
<br/>
Noah turns the mask over in his hands and looks at Sean who smiles reassuringly. "But my family, they'd miss me."<br/>
<br/>
You suck on your lip. "Well, I could stand in for you while you're sorting yourself out." You spin Danny's mask on the table. "You know once your under one of these its hard to distinguish the real from the fake."<br/>
<br/>
"But I can go back whenever I want right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, so you ready?" you reply. He gives a slow nod and you reach up and murmur the words to release the mask, and Noah returns to his golem form. Sean checks the gash to his neck, and confirms that there's been no change since last night.<br/>
<br/>
You pause for a moment. "You know we could solve a lot of problems if we just leave Noah like this. We could put his mask on the golem and no one would know the difference," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"No," Sean growls. The brothers who are standing either side of Noah give you a stern look. "We've screwed up his life enough, hiding the problem won't make it go away"<br/>
<br/>
"OK. jeez, it was just a thought," you retort. You push Sean's mask onto Noah, and he instantly changes to Sean's form and lets out a grunt at the tightness of his clothes. He stands up and suddenly you feel very small in front of the three <i>Mitchells</i>. You pull him to one side and begin to exchange Sean's clothes that you're still wearing with Noah's.<br/>
<br/>
"What's your name," you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
"Noah Lepley," he replies in a cautious tone.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyone else," you ask, he frowns. "Just relax," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
"Sean--Sean Mitchell," he replies with a self assurance you recognise. You frown when Taylor gives Noah a brotherly bear hug and Sean slaps his double on the back with a grin.<br/>
<br/>
You sit and put Noah's mask to your face, and the world goes dark. There's a heaviness and you groan; emotions and confusion swirl around your head, and drain into your mind. You push your fingers through the corse rough cut hair and rub your temples as a sense of hopelessness washes over you. With a gasp you push down the feelings; slowly you blink, and jump when you realise Noah is sitting opposite watching you intently.<br/>
<br/>
"So who are you," he asks. <br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. "My name is Noah Lepley," you respond in a robotic monotone, and then grin. You wrestle with Noah's psyche for a moment and look down nervously at the floor, returning your gaze to the person that looks like Sean in front of you. "Noah," you reply nervously checking the time on the phone you've pulled from your pocket. "It's getting late, I should be going soon I need to give my sister Jody a lift to band practice." The guy that's sitting in front of you shifts uneasily and you chuck his chin. "Don't worry big guy, you just be Sean for a while and I'll keep your place warm."<br/>
<br/>
The real Sean claims your mask from the table and you feel unhappy at the way he asserts ownership of your identity--but you say nothing.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor picks up Scott's mask and realises he's trapped himself again. "Shit!" He studies its grey interior, "I think if anyone else puts this on they'll turn into my slave, like a golem."<br/>
<br/>
Noah takes the mask and looks at it carefully. "What do you mean?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I think they'll just act like our fake buddy over there."<br/>
<br/>
You check the Libra. "Yeah, looks like he's right. It's just another version of the other spells," you say.<br/>
<br/>
Sean and Taylor push the masks to their faces and slump on the table, Noah is quiet and you ask him if he's OK. "I'm not sure, this is very strange," he smooths down the shirt he's wearing and grasps Sean's bicep, "I feel very different."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, its kind of a rush," you say. "The best thing to do is relax and just go with what feels right. Sean's got a good head on his shoulders he'll look after you, just lookout for his temper it kinda creeps up on you from time to time."<br/>
<br/>
Noah swallows and smiles weakly at you.<br/>
<br/>
You hear a noise and turn to see your double and Scott Bickelmeir waking. "Shit, thought I'd seen the last of you," Taylor grunts at Scott's reflection in the mirror. He pauses for a moment, as if he's remembering something and turns to your double. "What you did when you were wearing Scott's mask--not cool dude." Your double bites his lip but says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
You give Noah a gentle punch to the kidney, he jerks and straightens up. Your double puts a hand on his shoulder. "You should get going, you've got plenty to think about." You watch as he drifts out the door, and wait for the sound of Sean's pickup to fade.<br/>
<br/>
"You think he'll be OK?" you ask Sean.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure, but I found it easier being you after a nights sleep--maybe it will work for him as well. What about you Will? How are you dealing with being Noah."<br/>
<br/>
You think for a moment, and reach down into your borrowed mind. "Give me a minute," you say.<br/>
<br/>
Gently you start to root out the threads that make up Noah's memories.<br/>
<br/>
As you pull at them, they fall; connectionless--all the things that make up Noah--all the constitutional parts, but with no order or direction.<br/>
<br/>
"To be honest, there's not much that keeps Noah together; just a few friends and his family," you sniff.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guessed he had some problems. Do you think <i>you</i> can hold it together?" Sean asks.<br/>
<br/>
You nod and look over at Taylor who is still looking at Scott's reflection in the mirror. "So what did you do in Scott's mask last night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Umm," Sean replies hesitantly.<br/>
<br/>
"It's OK bro' you don't have to say anything." Taylor interrupts. "Don't you have to give Noah's sister a lift or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I'd better go."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry I'll lock up here, We'll see you later." <br/>
<br/>
You leave, and sit in Noah's Buick for a while; it's very big, a huge red leather bench seat at the front. The dash has large oversized chrome buttons and knobs, there's an old radio mounted in the middle with a splash of chrome and red plastic around the large horizontal speedo--something that might look at home on a rocket in one of those old sci-fi films. You wait for a while but neither Sean or Taylor emerge from the clubhouse, and with a sigh you start the engine and drive back to Noah's home.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
The Buick is like driving a sofa--on a bed of marshmallows--you think to yourself as you pull into the drive of your new home. Outside <i>your</i> younger sister Jody is standing by the front door, her arms folded tightly.<br/>
<br/>
She walks over to the car as you get out. "Where have you been all day? It's late and you said you'd give me--" She stops mid sentence when she sees the blood on your shirt. "Noah, what happened," she covers her mouth, "there's so much blood."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I had a nose bleed," you mumble.<br/>
<br/>
She tips her head. "You're kidding right? You look like a murder victim."<br/>
<br/>
You shudder at the connotation. "Really--it's nothing," you say in a quiet voice.<br/>
<br/>
"You'd better go change," she says, "if mom sees you like that you'll be in big trouble."</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222221221221
author_id: smitch69
title: Noah's Arc
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You throw Jody the keys to your car. "You load up your stuff I'll be back in a couple of minutes." You watch for a moment as she returns to the open garage and slings a guitar over her shoulder and grabs a box amplifier.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about me," she grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
You run into the house, but there is a shout from behind you. "NOAH! Where have you been all day, your friend Danny says you didn't turn up for a game," your mom yells.<br/>
<br/>
"I was helping out a friend--I'll call him later," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
She gives you a harsh look, "Go!" she growls. You turn to go up the stairs and she sees the blood. "Wait! Come here now."<br/>
<br/>
Sullenly you turn and walk back to your mom. She pulls at your shirt and checks your neck and face. "What happened, where did all this blood come from?"<br/>
<br/>
"A nose bleed, that's all." You pull your shirt from her hand. "Jody's waiting for me outside, I just want to change my shirt," you say. She sighs, and you take it that the questioning has finished. Not giving her any opportunity to change her mind you run up stairs to Noah's room.<br/>
<br/>
You crash through the door, and slam it shut. The room--of course--is familiar, Noah's mask sees to that, but there is still a buzz as if you're somewhere you shouldn't be.<br/>
<br/>
Noah's room isn't large but its at the top of the house. In one corner is a collection of lacrosse sticks; along with a kit bag. On the far wall there are shelves of books, on another a cork board with a number of random quotes and some pictures Noah has taken pinned to it, underneath a simple desk. A number of posters from indie films adorn the walls, and on the bed is Noah's discarded laptop. Being at the top of the house, has an additional benefit; there's a small square door in the wall which leads to the roof space. Noah's hideout when he needs to get away from it all, the <i>den</i> has a couple of huge beanbags, a desk and a chair--there's a small window that overlooks the front of the house.<br/>
<br/>
You pull off your shirt and vest and throw them onto a collecting pile of clothes on an old couch that sits below a large window opposite the desk. From the closet you pick a vest and hoodie. In the bathroom you splash some water on your face and rough up your hair pausing for a moment and look at Noah's reflection in the mirror. A dark thought bubbles up inside your mind; a feeling of futility--you shake your head and bury the feeling again.<br/>
<br/>
Looking out the window you see Jody leaning on the Buick pulling nervously at her sweater. You grab the pile of dirty clothes and run back downstairs, past the dining room and through the kitchen you drop your dirty clothes in the laundry.<br/>
<br/>
As you pass the dining room you see your father--Andrew. His face is lit by the glow of his laptop, on the table are numerous folders and printouts. He looks over his glasses at you as if he's going to say something; the moment hangs, but he returns to his work without saying a word. Your head drops and a sinking feeling returns as you leave the house.<br/>
<br/>
Outside Jody is now sitting in the car, when you get in there's definitely a chill in the air. Her arms are tightly crossed, and she gives you a sideways look.<br/>
<br/>
"So where were you today?"<br/>
<br/>
"Erm, around--just around," you reply weakly.<br/>
<br/>
"You know Danny must have called six times or more. Mom said you missed a game, must have been something important," she says.<br/>
<br/>
You say nothing, and you're grateful it's only a short trip to Jody's friends. "So pick you up later?" You ask.<br/>
<br/>
"No need, one of the guys will give me a lift back--besides I'd hate to screw up your busy schedule." You look over at her and frown. "Sorry, that was mean. You should call Danny--he sounded worried on the phone."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I'm going to text him when I've dropped you off," you mumble.<br/>
<br/>
You pull up outside Matt Weidler's house--the bands bass player. Alex Jefferson who plays drums walks down the drive to meet you and takes Jody's amp and guitar into the garage. <br/>
<br/>
"I know Danny is your friend, but if you want to talk," she pauses squeezing your arm, "you know I'm here for you--right?" You nod, and suck on your lip. She smiles and leaves looking over her shoulder and waving.<br/>
<br/>
You drive up the road a bit and stop. You think for a moment and tap a joke into the phone; <i>What do clouds wear under their shorts? thunderpants</i> and send it. It's only minutes before its recipient calls back--Danny.<br/>
<br/>
"Bro' where have you been? You missed the match, you never called or anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry bro', had some family business I needed to sort out," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, OK. Jody and your mom never said anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Seriously it's nothing to worry about, I'm pretty tired its been a busy day. Can we catch up tomorrow? You'll be at Westside right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, yeah. OK," Danny replies hesitantly. You hang up and return home.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
It's Sunday, and you grab your kit bag and a couple of lacrosse sticks--<i>Matilda</i> and <i>Madison</i>, you smile; Noah names all his sticks. You rumble down the stairs and glance into the dinning room, your father has returned to his laptop, his head is resting in his hand as he studies the numerous papers. With a start he looks up, "Oh Noah, you're going out?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you reply. Your father nods and returns to his work. You know from Noah's mask this isn't something new, he's been preoccupied for a couple of weeks and there's a tension in the household which puts Noah on edge. You say nothing more, and leave.<br/>
<br/>
 ---<br/>
<br/>
You arrive at Westside and grab your sticks and walk behind the gym and see a couple of figures. One of them is Danny who's bouncing and catching the ball on the edge of the stick. The other is sitting cross-legged, chin cupped in his hand; its Sean Mitchell watching with amusement. "Hey Danny," you shout. <br/>
<br/>
His face brightens for a moment, then darkens. "Where the hell was you yesterday? Dude, we almost lost our run on wins--had to get the new guy to fill your spot," he grumbles. <br/>
<br/>
"The new guy--Lukos Ardjis? Is he any good?" you ask enthusiastically, but Danny just shrugs. "I'm really sorry about missing the game. The shit really hit the fan yesterday," you glance over at the person that looks like Sean. "Had no choice but to help out a bro' in trouble. I knew you'd be able to pull a win without me, after all you keep telling me how much better you are," you say giving him a jab to the ribs with your stick. A familiar grin returns to Danny's face and you both bump fists.<br/>
<br/>
You spend the next twenty minutes or so doing lacrosse drills; ball control, passing and catching. Although Danny is the goalie and captain he has the skills and knowledge to play most positions on the team and proves to be an admirable coach as well.<br/>
<br/>
You take a break, and Danny curses as he searches his kit bag. "Thought I'd brought some water with me," he groans.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got some," you reply and jog back to the car. When you return Danny is in goal and Sean is shooting balls, passing and tackling. "Guys, take a break." You lob them a bottle each, and snap the cap off one for yourself. You sit on the ground, and you're joined by the others. Danny as usual can't sit still, and is soon on his feet again practicing some tricks.<br/>
<br/>
Danny walks back to the wall. "You're pretty good with a stick Mitchell, maybe better than Noah," he chuckles. You frown at Sean and throw a ball at Danny, it bounces off his shoulder but he catches it and spins on the spot. "Fucker," he snorts. You look behind you and feign innocence with a shrug.<br/>
<br/>
Danny starts wall ball drills again. "Thought of trying out for the team Mitchell?" he says. You look at Sean and frown shaking your head.<br/>
<br/>
"Not really," Sean stammers rubbing a thick bicep, "just not fast enough for lacrosse, I'm down with wrestling and football."<br/>
<br/>
"Pity," he replies.<br/>
<br/>
Your mobile rings, it's Bickelmeir's number. "Hey, what's up?" you say looking at the others and hold up a finger.<br/>
<br/>
"This is killing me man, I need an exit," whines Taylor, who's currently having to wear Scott's mask.<br/>
<br/>
You cup the mouthpiece. "Give me a couple of minutes guys," you say as you walk out of earshot. "You can always put it back on the golem," you whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah and what the fuck am I meant to do--live in the clubhouse?"<br/>
<br/>
"OK, call Sean--the real one," you add quickly, "get him to bring some of that stuff from the new spell and Russo's mask. Tell him I'll meet him in the Westside parking lot." There's a grunt and he hangs up.</span></div></div>


path: 111111221122112221112222212212211
author_id: smitch69
title: Meet the real Sean in the parking lot
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You sigh as you hang up; Taylor sounds miserable being under Bickelmeir's mask again. <br/>
<br/>
You return to Danny and Noah (who looks like Sean). "That was Jody, she needs a lift back from her friends--I'll be back in a while," you say picking up your stick and having to tussle with Sean for the other; you have to shoot him a hard stare before he releases it.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
Sitting back in your Buick, you thumb through some of Noah's memories, which is quite unsettling. Although Noah appears happy on the surface, just below there's a well of anxiety, self doubt. Suddenly you're brought back to the present with a jump when there's a tap on the window--it's your double. Leaning over you open the passenger door and let Sean in.<br/>
<br/>
"How's that new mind you're looking after?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Heavy and dark," you reply. "You were right about Noah. He's very insecure but hides it well."<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm, how's he doing as me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think he's coping well, seems your psyche is filling the cracks in Noah's mind," you say as Sean grins. "Look, don't be too cocky, you were just as fucked up when I scratched around in your head."<br/>
<br/>
Sean raises an eyebrow. "And you're perfect, I suppose, Prescott?" he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
You ignore him. "Anyway, did you bring the stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
Sean pulls Danny's mask from his backpack. "What's the plan?"<br/>
<br/>
"Taylor's bitching about being stuck under Bickelmeir," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Hardly surprising," Sean snorts.<br/>
<br/>
"As he likes Noah's Buick so much I thought this would be a good fit for him, and I'd move into Russo," you explain. "We can put the real Danny under Bickelmeir's mask."<br/>
<br/>
"Russo's a bit of an idiot though," Sean says. You shrug and nod in agreement.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm going to need some of my hair." You slip down into the seat and remove Noah's mask, sliding into unconsciousness. When you awake it dawns on you that you're still Noah. "What the fuck happened?" you groan.<br/>
<br/>
"Grabbed some of your hair and put the mask back on," Sean replies as he mixes some hair with a grey paste.<br/>
<br/>
You rub your temples and push your fingers through your hair. "Feels like a bad hangover," you groan. Sean coats the interior of Russo's mask and lights it with a match. Thankfully there is just a small flash and a waft of smoke; he hands it over. "Is that it?" you ask, studying the matte grey interior.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a lot easier than the golem spells. Why the fuck the book didn't show this one first I have no idea," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"We can meet the others at the clubhouse this afternoon, get people swapped around then," you reply. Sean gives you a nod and leaves.<br/>
<br/>
You stuff the mask into your kit bag and walk back to Danny, who is practicing alone.<br/>
<br/>
"Where's Mitchell?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Umm, he got a call from work--or something--and said he had to go," Danny replies.<br/>
<br/>
You drop your kit bag and lay on the grass, staring up at the sky and thinking. From Noah's mask you realise he's known Danny since middle school--they both went to Schuyler. It dawns on you how tight they are; Danny understands Noah's vulnerabilities, and Noah accepts Danny's eccentricities. <br/>
<br/>
"Danny, what's this new guy like?" you mumble as Noah's insecurities tug at you. "Is he better than me?"<br/>
<br/>
Danny flips the ball into the air and catches it in the pocket of the stick. Walking over he squats on his haunches next to you. "Bro, he's not as good as you. You're the best defence we have, Ardjis can play most positions but he's best placed as a midfielder."<br/>
<br/>
You lean over and offer up your fist, which Danny bumps. "I've got something for you." From your kit bag you pull out the mask and hand it to him. He flips it over and rubs his thumb against his name which is written on the interior. "I made it in art," you smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Looks kinda weird, bro," he mumbles, flipping the mask around in his hands. Inevitably, he holds it up to his face and you push it home.<br/>
<br/>
The mask quickly disappears into Danny, and he falls backwards onto his back. Then he lets out a groan and sits up. "Oh, it's you again," he says rubbing his head. "Where's Noah?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's under Sean's mask," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Makes sense. No way Mitchell is that good at lacrosse," he snorts.<br/>
<br/>
You're about to ask him how he guessed, but remember how the memories from the real Danny would have updated the mask. It’s also evident that it's able to recognise its master--whoever they look like.<br/>
<br/>
He stands again and starts to pace around. "Sit down, Danny," you groan.<br/>
<br/>
He clenches a fist, but sits. He looks at you from the corner of his eye. "So why get Noah involved," he growls. You shift uneasily as he looks at the ground and rips at the grass. "You'd better not have hurt him or anything. He's like a brother. We look after each other."<br/>
<br/>
"Danny," you say in a low voice. "I want you to treat me like Noah."<br/>
<br/>
You watch as Danny starts to tremble and shake. He looks at you, nostrils flaring. He bites his lip as it starts to curl, and a spot of blood appears. You scramble back; it looks like he's going to explode. A groan emanates from deep within him as he struggles and blinks rapidly, and then relaxes.<br/>
<br/>
"Danny?" you ask nervously.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you, and wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and smiles. "Hey bro' fancy doing some drills?" he chirps.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe later," you say tipping your chin. "You're OK with me being here, right?" you say. He just grins and shrugs. "OK, well there's somewhere we need to go, meet up with the others."<br/>
<br/>
"A party?" he hoots, dancing in a circle. "What are we waiting for?" <br/>
<br/>
Smiling weakly you pick up your kit bag and walk back to the parking lot when you hear a shout. "Hey wait up," yells Danny. You turn to see him running towards you with kit bag and sticks in his hands. "You going to give me a lift?"<br/>
<br/>
"What? Where's your car?"<br/>
<br/>
"Charlie borrowed it. He couldn't get his started this morning and he needed to get to the coffee shop," he replies.<br/>
<br/>
While you drive to the clubhouse Danny plays with the knobs and switches on the dashboard, bobbing his head to some music in his head. You wonder what surprises you'll find when you put on his mask.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
You pull up outside the clubhouse next to your old truck. Sean's and Bickelmeir's are there too. You give Danny a nudge. "Come on, we're here," you say. Inside, Taylor has already removed Scott's mask, and Sean--who still looks like your double--is showing Noah the Libra.<br/>
<br/>
When Danny trots in behind you Noah looks up and beams. "Danny, bro' you on the team now?"<br/>
<br/>
There's an awkward silence. "Sort of," you reply as Danny chest bumps Noah, who's disguised as Sean.<br/>
<br/>
"I knew something was up, Mitchell isn't that good at LAX," Danny says as he looks into Noah's eyes. "What's it like in there?" he grins.<br/>
<br/>
"It's weird," Noah replies. Sean frowns looking as if he's going to say something--but then snaps his mouth shut.<br/>
<br/>
"Sit," you tell Danny. Without pausing you reach up to his face and pull the mask off--he slumps unconscious in the chair.<br/>
<br/>
"Danny!" Noah exclaims, giving you a dark look. "Is he OK?"<br/>
<br/>
You take Bickelmeir's mask and put it on Danny, and within seconds it’s Scott that sits in the chair. "Danny's fine, he won't remember anything."<br/>
<br/>
Scott's eyes snap open. "Not again," he groans. He looks at Taylor for a moment then sags. "I thought you were my friend," he grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Danny--you OK?" Noah says, resting a hand on Scott's shoulder. But the latter just shrugs it off.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want now, Mitchell," he growls at Noah. He starts to get up but Taylor pushes him back into the seat, telling him to wait. Scott snorts, but sits quietly.<br/>
<br/>
Noah takes Danny's mask and looks at its interior. "Golemised?" he asks Sean, who nods. "Whose hair did you use?" he demands.<br/>
<br/>
"Mine," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not right. Danny's my friend," Noah growls.<br/>
<br/>
"Noah, calm down Danny's fine--you know that," Taylor says reassuringly. Noah swallows hard and crosses his arms, glaring at you.<br/>
<br/>
You lay on the floor, and remove Noah's mask and slip into darkness. Hearing voices, you groan and slowly open your eyes. Laying next to you is Noah Lipley. You blink again--standing over you is Will Prescott. "I swapped the masks around while you were out," he says. You stretch and let out a groan, rubbing the short cropped hair on your head as you get to your feet.<br/>
<br/>
Noah--who is in fact Taylor--groans, and you offer him a hand pulling him to his feet. "You OK bro'?" you ask, he nods. You look around and see that Noah is missing. "Where's Noah?"<br/>
<br/>
"He left, he wasn't happy about you taking over as Danny," Sean replies, "I'll talk to him tomorrow after he's calmed down."<br/>
<br/>
You spend the next couple of minutes swapping clothes. You pause when you see the name "Ash" written on the label of your vest but dismiss it as you pull it on over a t-shirt. Scott looks miserable and confused as Taylor sends him home; he reassures it saying they'll talk tomorrow; it just shoots him a dark look as it leaves.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor looks at his mobile. "I should be going, do you want a lift?" he asks you.<br/>
<br/>
You turn to Sean. "Are you going?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I just want to read through this next spell again, it's a bit of a conundrum. I think it's a test or something," he shows you the book, half of the page is missing.<br/>
<br/>
You trace your finger down the rip, there's text on the following page, but it shifts in and out of focus making it unreadable. "Whoa, that's weird," you say watching it carefully trying to follow the shifting words. <br/>
<br/>
You could go home and try and work out how Danny thinks, but the new spell looks interesting.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122112211222111222222
author_id: smitch69
title: Give Scott a call.
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>After work, you sit in the pickup drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. Something about the fight between your double and Scott earlier today doesn't quite add up. You chew on a finger nail--one of Sean's habits.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever Will whispered to Scott when he had him pinned shocked Scott, and yet neither of them want to talk about it. Chuckling, you remember Sean getting the upper hand even though he was using your skinny body; it was one hell of a hook connecting to Scott's nose with a crack. He's lucky it wasn't broken.<br/>
<br/>
You flick the chewed-off nail scrap across the cab, where it lands on the seat. You roll your eyes: Sean's persona is so strong it's not going to allow you to ignore it. You're just about to pick it up when it dissolves into nothing. You blink hard while running your hand over the seat; no it's definitely not there anymore.<br/>
<br/>
You chew another nail off and carefully lay it on the steering wheel: soon after, it dissolves. You scratch your head. This seems impossible, but then so does the whole idea of the masks.<br/>
<br/>
You search the glove box for a pocketknife, and carefully run the blade across the top of your thumb. "FUCK!" A crimson bloom tops your thumb and drops onto your shorts. The blood spreads into the fabric, then fades and disappears. But the blood on your thumb remains.<br/>
<br/>
You blink. Do body scraps like nails or blood cease to exist once they're separated from the person wearing the mask?<br/>
<br/>
Maybe that's what didn't add up: Scott's nose was bleeding, and there was blood on his face and the back of his hand where he wiped it. But there wasn't much anywhere else.<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head. No, that's just stupid. Maybe Scott just isn't a bleeder.<br/>
<br/>
But paranoia scratches at you: Scott practically stole Sean's brother away, and then followed Sean to Westside after Taylor's accident.<br/>
<br/>
You really need to talk to Scott, to clear the air. Hell, maybe you should grab a couple of hairs from him, just to quench the nagging paranoia.<br/>
<br/>
You call Huber to get Bickelmeier's phone number. It's a tedious conversation, because Cameron wants to talk about Gordon Black and his coaching tips, but you finally get Scott's contact number out of him, then tap out a message to Sean, telling him you'll see him at Salopek on Saturday. He quickly replies: "K, looking at next spell--shit!" But you resist the temptation to call your friend.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, you call Scott, and there's a long pause before he answers. "Sean?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
You're a little taken aback. "How did you know it was me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Erm, I recognised your number."<br/>
<br/>
"Bickel--" You catch yourself, "Scott, I want to meet up again. See if we can iron out our differences. I think it would be good for the team and for us."<br/>
<br/>
Again, he's silent for a moment. "OK, I guess we could. At the coffee shop again?"<br/>
<br/>
"Meet you in five?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, but I can't stop long. I've got plans for later."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Scott's on his phone when he meets you in front of the coffee shop, and mumbles something before hanging up. You nod at the phone. "Trouble?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, Cameron's just giving me some shit," he groans.<br/>
<br/>
Inside, you find a table as Scott buys the drinks. Glancing around, you're surprised to see Cindy Vredenburg sitting alone, staring into her coffee and looking like she's been crying. The busboy, who is standing nearby watching her, turns, and you start: it's Danny Russo. But he doesn't speak to you.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's up?" Scott asks as he joins you.<br/>
<br/>
"Taylor's death. You know we both have issues over it. We're still grieving, you know, and my mom's taking it bad."<br/>
<br/>
"I know, and I want to talk about it. Just not now."<br/>
<br/>
You grit your teeth. "OK, so what happened by the lockers, the fight with Will Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
"I saw he had your cap. I tried to get it back for you."<br/>
<br/>
"He really caught you out, didn't he," you grin.<br/>
<br/>
"The skinny little runt was fast, he just surprised me." He hunches over the table, looking into the mug of coffee.<br/>
<br/>
"So what did Prescott say when he had you pinned down?"<br/>
<br/>
Scott shifts uneasily in his chair. "Something I never thought I'd ever hear again."<br/>
<br/>
And just then Cindy pulls up a chair. "Hey, mind if I sit with you guys? Russo keeps leering at me, and I don't feel up to dealing with him." Her eyes are red and puffy.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you OK?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Seth broke up with me," she says. Her lips tighten. "Chelsea Cooper is behind it," <br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea is a real nasty piece of work," you nod sympathetically. Scott takes her hand and gives it a squeeze.<br/>
<br/>
"You guys are so sweet." She glances over at Danny, who's clearing a table, then rests her head on Scott's shoulder; he wraps an arm around her. "My sis is supposed to pick me up in an hour, but I really want to get home." She looks up a Scott. "Could you give me a lift?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," Scott shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
"But Scott, this is important," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but I have something I need to do." He looks at Cindy. "I can drop you off on the way," and then mouths <i>I'll call you later.</i><br/>
<br/>
You sigh as he leaves with Cindy, then cuss out loud: you forgot to try to get a scrap of hair or something off him.<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa, tough break dude." Danny voice makes you jump. He's in a green apron that's just a little too long for him, and he's carrying a basin of dirty mugs.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you said you'd never get a job," you say, looking him up and down.<br/>
<br/>
"My brother, Charlie," he nods at the guy behind the counter. "He made me get a part-time job here. Says I need to help out with the bills at home."<br/>
<br/>
"Apron looks good on you," you tease. He frowns. "It's a bit long or you're a short ass. Either way it looks like you're not wearing any pants. If you're not careful you'll scare away all the customers. <br/>
<br/>
He scratches his nose with his middle finger and smiles sharply at you.<br/>
<br/>
You just laugh and glance back at Charlie. He's taller than his brother but has long black hair. He has the same expressive eyebrows, though--perhaps a family trait. "I didn't know you had a brother," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I never knew you had a brother either."<br/>
<br/>
It looks like he's about to add something, Charlie shouts from the counter: "Danny! Those tables aren't going to clear themselves." Danny rolls his eyes and trudges over to Cindy's table.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's still early, so you decide you might as well go to the clubhouse and see what Sean's found out about the next spell. Your double is studying the book when you arrive. If he's surprised at your appearance, he doesn't show it. "Have a look at this. I think I've translated it correctly, but I don't like it."<br/>
<br/>
You look over his shoulder at his notes and the <i>Libra,</i> but are quickly distracted by the sound of the Danny golem throwing a ball against the wall: 'Pu-domp, pu-domp, pu-domp.' "Danny, sit," you bark. The golem lopes over and drops into a chair, and you pull the mask from its face. <br/>
<br/>
That done, you return to the spell. According to Sean's translation, the new spell is similar to the last one: just another way to make a golem, though it appears to only need a fraction of the dirt the previous spell did. "Do we have enough stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
"Plenty," he replies, tapping the book. "It's this extra ingredient that worries me."<br/>
<br/>
"Vivere corpus?" you frown. "Living body?" Sean nods. "Fuck!"<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't say what it'll do to the person." He rolls his eyes. "You know how this book works."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, the other spells haven't hurt anyone before, and I'm sure that the next page will say how to reverse it." You can see Sean is uneasy with the idea. You spin the Danny Russo mask on the table. "We already have a possible candidate."<br/>
<br/>
Sean bites his lip. "I'm not really happy with the idea."<br/>
<br/>
"Or, I met up with Scott earlier." You flinch waiting for a barrage of abuse, but there's none.<br/>
<br/>
"OK," Sean says slowly, "maybe Scott would make a better candidate. I'd certainly have less qualms with him."<br/>
<br/>
"But I'm not sure if it would work on him. Lemme show you something." You yank a couple of hairs from your double's head. He curses, but you tell him to watch carefully as you set them on the table. Sean gasps as they disappear. "I think that any hairs, nails, blood just vanish when they're separated from a person wearing a mask."<br/>
<br/>
But Sean has to test for himself, and yanks a couple of hairs from your head. "Whoa, that really is weird," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"It's the same with blood." You show him where you cut your thumb. "Your fight with Bickelmeier. Did you have any blood on you after the fight?"<br/>
<br/>
Sean checks his T-shirt. "No, and I thought he was bleeding a lot." You look a Sean and raise an eyebrow. "FUCK! You don't think he's wearing a mask do you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I met up with him to see if I could get some hairs or something, but Cindy Vredenburg was there. She latched onto him and he gave her a lift home before I could get anything. So maybe Cindy would be a better choice?" You waggle your eyebrows. "She's a good looker--nicer to have around than Danny--and we could use her to get close to Bickelmeier."</span></div></div>


path: 1111112211222
author_id: smitch69
title: Call the cops, see what's going on.
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Hello? Are you still there Will?"<br/>
<br/>
You could hear Keith on the phone, but your mind was racing.<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly the noise from the phone snaps you back, "Yeah, yeah... I'm still here can you come and pick me up? I'm at the clubhouse."<br/>
<br/>
You start to hear Keith whine on the other end of the phone, but you ignore it and just hang up.<br/>
<br/>
You realise that you need to find out what's going on at the police station, but you can't really go as yourself.<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly your phone rings again, you look at the display - not a number you recognise.<br/>
<br/>
"Hello?"<br/>
<br/>
The voice at the other end is a little shaky but you recognise it as your own, "Erm, is Sean there?"<br/>
<br/>
"What the FUCK have you done?" You practically scream into the phone.<br/>
<br/>
"Jeez, calm down buddy, I only jumped a light! It's just they won't release me until they see my ID, can you bring it down?"<br/>
<br/>
"And how am I meant to do that? Waltz in and we share the same ID? Shit!"<br/>
<br/>
"Look you're smart, you'll figure something out, I've got to go the cops giving me some evil stares here." He hangs up the phone.<br/>
<br/>
You slam the phone against your head trying to think of a solution when you see the light catch the interior of the blank mask on the table. It not an ideal solution, but it will have to do.<br/>
<br/>
It's not long before you hear Keith pull up, the slam of the door outside suggests your he's not impressed with your recent antics.<br/>
<br/>
"What the fuck is going on Will?"<br/>
<br/>
Your a little surprised, it's not the usual whine you're used to, but more of a pissed off demand.<br/>
<br/>
"How the hell should I know, you called me!" Now it's your turn to sound like a whiner.<br/>
<br/>
You cant really be bothered discussing it any further with Keith, so at the earliest opportunity you pie him in the face from behind with the blank mask.<br/>
<br/>
He falls backwards into your arms and you lower him into one of the chairs. While the mask is performing its magic you ponder what could be happening down at the police station. You know Sean isn't stupid and won't intentionally get you into trouble, but even so you can't help but worry a little considering all the ID he has on him is his own.<br/>
<br/>
There is a clatter behind you as the mask falls from Keith's face and hits the floor. Scooping it up you hide it, then gently you slap Keith around the face.<br/>
<br/>
"Aww, what happened?" Keith groaned.<br/>
<br/>
"You were shouting and stuff and you fainted or something," Came your rather lame reply.<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
It appears it wasn't going to satisfy Keith and with that he stormed out.<br/>
<br/>
"Pffft, looser." You mumble under your breath.<br/>
<br/>
Keith turns and shoots you a glare. You just turn and look away.<br/>
<br/>
You get the mask and seal it quickly. Keith's name shines clearly on the inner surface of the mask you wonder what twisted thoughts await you as you offer if up to your face; suddenly theres a loud crack, its like static electricity and you let out a yell. A small waft of burning greets your nose, you suspect it's from Seans band which you're still wearing and the one in the mask.<br/>
<br/>
Holding your head, you realise that you'll have to remove Sean's band to put on the Keiths mask. Your heart drops, having Sean there inside your head has not only made you more cool at school but has given you the confidence to stand up to Lester The Molester. It really is like having your best friend and a older brother on tap 24/7.<br/>
<br/>
You decide to leave Sean's band on until you get nearer to the police station, after all you'll be using his pickup to get there.<br/>
<br/>
Outside you eye up Sean's monster of a drive, it's a lot larger than yours, you jump in after finding a spare key tucked up in the rear wheel arch; thanks to the band.<br/>
<br/>
In town you spot your own pickup and park opposite in an alley. Tentatively you reach up and touch your forehead and then remove Sean's band, just as quickly you feel the reassurance, confidence and security vaporise.<br/>
<br/>
Rubbing the surface of the band, Sean's name catches what light there is from outside, you wonder how your going to break the news to him as he still has no idea that you copied his memories on that first day at work. Carefully you stick it in your pocket turning your attention to Keith's mask.<br/>
<br/>
You realise this is the first time you've actually worn a mask of someone else. Sure, you'd tired the mask you made of yourself, but that doesn't really count.<br/>
<br/>
Staring at Keith's reflection in the back of the mask you think how much easier this would be if you just had a mask of Sean.<br/>
<br/>
You glance up in the rear view mirror as you offer up the mask to your face.<br/>
<br/>
Tightness, almost a spasm holds you locked into the seat, all you can do it groan through clenched teeth. A heat flows though you from your feet up your legs and through your torso and finally a deafening rush of blood that you can hear deep within your skull just before you black out.<br/>
<br/>
Time has passed, you don't know how long but remembering Sean's transformation it could only have been only a couple of minutes. You close your eyes and groan again, raising your hand to your head hoping that the changes become easier over time.<br/>
<br/>
Gingerly you look up again, your eyes are framed in the mirror once again and you recognise Keith's close-shorn hair. You shiver as you touch Keith's memories; a confusing pool of erotic thoughts and wishes, something stirs in your pants and you desperately think of something else.<br/>
<br/>
Jumping out of the cab you check your pockets making sure you have your own ID, you'll need it at the police station to get the fake Will out.<br/>
<br/>
Taking a gulp you make your way to police station. Pushing the large heavy door you make your way over to the imposing oak desk. The officer is working through some paperwork, you give a gentle cough and his eyes lift to look at you. You visibly wilt a little as he returns his gaze to the paperwork.<br/>
<br/>
After what seems like ages he looks up at you again.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, what can I help you with?"<br/>
<br/>
"I... I've brought Will Prescott's ID." You stammer.<br/>
<br/>
He looks you up and down with a judging eye, "Let's see it then, I haven't got all night."<br/>
<br/>
Quickly fumbling through your pockets you slap the ID on the desk and slide it across to the officer.<br/>
<br/>
He look you in the eye and raises an eyebrow before taking it and studying it closely. Looking thoughtful he thumbs through some paperwork and pulls out a sheet of paper. You lean over to try and see whats written, but he looks up at you again and you snap back looking away.<br/>
<br/>
"Officer Waits, can you get the guy out of cell 5?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." Comes a chirpy reply from a young officer.<br/>
<br/>
He opens a door behind the officer you've been dealing with, inside you can see a number of cells some of them have occupants. Taking a step to the side you see further inside, you spot yourself, well actually Sean in one of the cells, he's leaning on the bars talking to the guy in the next cell and he's wearing that damn baseball cap again.<br/>
<br/>
He's looking very relaxed talking with the guy, as if he knows him well. He's about the same age as yourself, his hair is long, shoulder length. Dodging left and right you try to see if you recognise him, he's wearing scruffy clothes that suggest he's from the less well off part of town. Sean continues to chat with guy as the officer unlocks the cell, finally giving him a hug through the bars before leaving the cell.<br/>
<br/>
He walks through the door, and stops in his tracks.<br/>
<br/>
"Keith?"<br/>
<br/>
"Erm, yeah." You reply. "Sean asked me to drop off your ID."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh... " Suddenly it clicks in Sean's head, "Ohhh..." He says with a smile on his face. "Thanks for bringing it down buddy."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, whatever." You reply, Keith's earlier annoyance shines through.<br/>
<br/>
"Ok guys." The officer pulls out a clear plastic envelope emptying its contents. "This is yours Will," he hands Sean the ID you brought in and looks at the wallet he pulled out of the envelope. "This one appears to belong to Sean Mitchell." He look between the two of you, "Make sure he gets it back." he hands it back to you.<br/>
<br/>
You grab Sean by the arm and practically march him out of the station and back to the pickups parked down the road.<br/>
<br/>
"Will is that you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who the fuck do you think it is? Luckily I asked Keith to drop by when he saw you picked up by the cops, he wasn't happy when he came around after I slapped a mask on him."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah I bet, he can have a temper on him when he's not whining." Smirks Sean.<br/>
<br/>
"You are such a jerk sometimes Will." You blink and look at Sean, realising what your just said and you think perhaps you are at times.<br/>
<br/>
You shove Sean and he stops, "You know this would have been so much easier if we had a mask of you!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, yeah..." There is hesitation in Sean's voice, "I know, I appreciate you getting me out of jail - but it's difficult you know."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see the problem Sean, you have my mask, my life literally in your hands." You roll your eyes, "Don't you trust me?"<br/>
<br/>
Sean says nothing as he jumps into your pickup.<br/>
<br/>
You take his ride back to the clubhouse, getting more and more frustrated.<br/>
<br/>
[Owner's note: Locked to prevent further continuity problems.]</span></div></div>


path: 1111112212
author_id: seuzz
title: The Copycat
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Yeah, the safest way to lay your hand on the chemicals would be to go in while pretending to be Sean; that way if anyone caught you there'd be no awkward questions.<br/>
<br/>
Except that Sean would be around, too. Would there be some way of getting him out of the way? Or going in when he's not around?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Ah!</i> He's supposed to go out of town this weekend to visit his grandparents, and as it is an extended trip he's slated to take Friday off. That's when you could go in. But then <i>you'd</i> be the one missing work. Hmmm ...<br/>
<br/>
"Will!" It's your dad's voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't 'yeah' me, mister. When I call, you come down."<br/>
<br/>
Without bothering to remove Sean's mind band, you rush downstairs. Your father stands glowering in the living room. You gulp a little to see that he's holding the thick binder of work-related material you were given to study. "Have you even <i>looked</i> at this thing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, a little."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, let's see how much you absorbed," he says acidly. He jerks his head, and you follow him into the dining room with a sinking feeling.<br/>
<br/>
Twenty-five harrowing minutes later he pushes the binder away and stares at you in frank disbelief. "You picked all that up just by looking at it a 'little'?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "Mostly it seems like common sense," you improvise. Thank goodness you still had Sean's mind band on, and that he's an expert on Salopek's many policies and warnings.<br/>
<br/>
Your dad shakes his head. "And yet your school work just seems to bounce off you. Well," he sighs. "Carry on."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Hey Sean, is there any way I'd be able to miss work on Friday?" you ask him the next day at school.<br/>
<br/>
He turns to stare, and his manner, though not exceptionally unfriendly, is distinctly cool. "It's not school. You can't skip," he says bluntly.<br/>
<br/>
"I know that. I just mean, if I asked to take the afternoon off, do you think I could get it?"<br/>
<br/>
"You just started, and you're already asking for days off? That's really not gonna go well."<br/>
<br/>
"Thing is, I'm supposed to have a dental appointment, and they called to reschedule and wanted to know if I could come in Friday afternoon," you lie.<br/>
<br/>
He looks skeptical. "You can ask, but even asking isn't going to make you popular." Now he is very frosty.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, thanks for being honest with me," you say, feeling a little desperate to get back in his good graces. "You were just awesome with me yesterday, I really appreciate it. So, um, I guess I'll see you Friday."<br/>
<br/>
"You'll see me this afternoon." The chill, if possible, deepens.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course, I didn't mean that. I'm just saying I'll be there Friday and see you then, too."<br/>
<br/>
His lips purse, and he grunts. Clearly he doesn't want to have to say that he <i>won't</i> be there on Friday. You scuttle away crabwise before things become worse.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Friday.</i> You snap the brim of the ball cap low over your brow and check yourself out in the rearview mirror. Your disguise is as good as you can make it. The face and body and mind of Sean Mitchell are perfect, of course, but you'd had to improvise with the wardrobe, employing one of your rarely used polo shirts and khakis. It should do, however, until you can get into his work locker and change into the extra stuff he keeps there. <br/>
<br/>
Getting the mask had been tricky, and you'd only managed to score it yesterday. Sean had been on his back on the floor of the machine shop, working under some equipment. You werestanding over him with the mask (you'd been carrying it with you for the past few days) wedged against the side of your hip between your underwear and your jeans. You pretended to accidentally knock a heavy hammer off the equipment; Sean winced and looked away as it clanged heavily onto the floor next to his head. In a flash, you had the mask out and pressed to his face. Then you knelt, hiding him from view, until it reappeared. After you'd woken him back up he cursed you out hard as an accident-prone fuck up and said he'd have to report you. It made you feel bad, since you do like Sean and wish he'd like you. For that to happen, of course, you'd have to stop knocking him cold ...<br/>
<br/>
Taking a deep breath, you exit your truck and stride to the front office.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you had the day off," Debra, the receptionist, says in surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"Things fell through, thought I'd come in and work anyway," you say. "That gonna be a problem?"<br/>
<br/>
"We couldn't find anyone to cover for you," she says, "so Andy'll be happy to see you. Oh, and Will Prescott called, said he'd be late."<br/>
<br/>
You snort. "Guy's just begging to be fired. Well, when he shows up, send him to find me."<br/>
<br/>
Outside, you look around to check that the coast is clear. The alleys aren't crowded, but no one is paying attention to you, so you're able to get to Sean's locker and change into some of his clothes. Then it's off to score some empty containers. You check your shopping list and trot off to your first destination.<br/>
<br/>
Within the thirty minutes you have all but two of the liquids--some quite flammable--that you need, and decided to sneak some of them back out to the parking lot. But on your way out you run into Keyes. "You already finished in the distribution center?" he asks in surprise.<br/>
<br/>
You blink. "Huh? Oh, I had to step out to the head."<br/>
<br/>
"You give Prescott that warning?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir?"<br/>
<br/>
"Prescott. He showed up?"<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't seen him."<br/>
<br/>
"You said his truck was out front."<br/>
<br/>
You pale. "I did?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you over the top of his glasses. "Are you feeling okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes sir. I just haven't seen Prescott. Uh, not yet."<br/>
<br/>
He rolls his eyes, and which then settle on the four containers you're clutching. "What's that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, I'm not sure. I ran into Jorge on the way back and he asked me to step this over to the front gate for him."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, take this with you, give it to Debra for me." He thrusts a manila folder at you and walks away.<br/>
<br/>
Slowly you return to the front office. Debra looks up at you in exasperation. "You here to tell me <i>again</i> you've decided to come in to work?"<br/>
<br/>
You swallow hard. "No, just dropping this off for Andy." You shift items, almost dropping them, and present her with the folder Keyes gave you. "Anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
"You tell me," she says somewhat waspishly. "Oh, but tell Prescott to trot around to see his dad. The man isn't happy."<br/>
<br/>
You slowly walk out into the parking lot. (Luckily, no one challenges you.) It <i>sounds</i> like Sean actually decided to show up for work, and it's only a blessed coincidence you haven't run into him yet. Well, maybe it's not such a coincidence; it's a big complex, and it sounds like he's been stuck inside the distribution center since he arrived. <br/>
<br/>
You stash the chemicals in the back of your truck, thinking all the while. The safest thing is to ditch Sean's mask and go back in as yourself, pleading an accident, like a flat tire. But it sounds like you're on the verge of getting fired, and if that happens you won't be able to get back in to snag the rest of what you need. Maybe you should just try running the table while you still can.</span></div></div>


path: 11111122121
author_id: seuzz
id: UGFDWYYS2
title: Party of Five, Chapter 1
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span><i>Hey guys,</i> you wrote for the "About" section that prefaces each story at stories.net, <i>newbie here with his first story be nice ok lol.<br/>
<br/>
Not totally original to me like I say I'm a noob at writing and plots are kind of hard for me so I'm working from plot from a webcomic I love, kind of adapting it and adding to it give it more lore and description. It's based on webcomic by chronicstuss over at deviant art but he deleted it but I saved a copy so I hope its okay? Anyway don't mean to plaigarize just wanted to save and share this really killer story by a guy whose work I love so much but putting it in story form. Also, I guess maybe this is kind of practice for writing? I dunno maybe I should also call this fanfic. Anyway its based on this webcomic called "The Five" like I say by chronicstuss and you should totally check his stuff out if you don't know it. This one starts with MtM and there's other MtM in it lol but don't worry keep reading because theres MtF in it too cheers.</i><br/>
<br/>
The story itself you have titled "Party of Five."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"HOW DOES IT WORK?" Diller demanded. He scowled at the dark pool that lapped at the lip of the well. Its surface glistened like oil in the light of the torch that flickered and bloomed in the iron bracket on the cavern wall. That light gave the water—if it was water—a nasty sheen.<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't 'work'," Skunk retorted.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" Diller glanced up sharply.<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't 'work'," Skunk repeated. His tone was stony. "It's not a machine,."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, what the fuck good—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Killer." Finn laid restraining hand on the gang leader's brawny shoulder. "Skunk just means this is a sacred place."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't care if it's a fucking whorehouse." Diller twisted out from under Finn's hand. "He hauls us up here with some cock-and-bullshit story about—"<br/>
<br/>
"Skunk," Finn said as the other three men—escapees, like the rest of them, from the nearby Super-Max facility—looked on anxiously. "Killer's just asking what we do now. You know." He nodded at the pool, whose surface was shivering like the skin of a living thing. "Now that we're here."<br/>
<br/>
Skunk crossed his arms and scowled. His Navajo features—high cheekbones, narrow eyes, strong jaw and mouth—always seemed set in a grimace of rock-like imperturbability. But now they looked carved from granite. His long, sleek black hair fell in straight sheets that framed his face.<br/>
<br/>
"The Well of the Skinwalkers is not sacred," he said. "It is not holy. It is the watering place of the <i>yee naaldlooshii."</i> His eyes darted. "We should not have come."<br/>
<br/>
"It was your idea," Diller growled.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it was your idea," Finn more gently agreed. "You said we could hide in the caves." He glanced around the cavern they had reached after tracing a tortuous path through narrow, twisting passages with pebbly, uneven floors, with only that torch to light the way. "And you said we'd find the Well here. And that we could use it to—" He broke off.<br/>
<br/>
"We could use it to get us some new faces," said Mickey. He was a red-head, usually voluble and good-natured, despite the deep scar that folded his left cheek inward from the ear to the chin. But like the other three, who had escaped with Diller, Finn and Skunk despite not being part of their gang, he had grown more and more quiet the deeper into the hillside they had plunged.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Diller said. "So how does it work?"<br/>
<br/>
Skunk glanced darkly at Finn, who sighed and let his shoulders droop.<br/>
<br/>
The Navajo pointed at the pool.<br/>
<br/>
"You put him whose face you would claim into the pool," he said. "In only his skin, still living, you put him into the pool. You push his head under the surface. Then, holding him there, you draw the knife across his throat. You must cut deep. As deep as the bone at the back of the neck." He drew the side of his hand across his own throat.<br/>
<br/>
"What knife?" Diller asked. "Were we supposed to bring one?"<br/>
<br/>
Skunk glanced around, his eye roving over the wall behind the pool. He froze. Then, leaning across the corner of the pool while being careful not to touch the water with his booted toe, he braced himself with one hand while with the other he groped about a shadowy shelf carved into the living rock. Again, he froze. Then from the shelf he drew out a cruelly curved knife. Its blade was forged of dull iron, and its handle was yellowed bone.<br/>
<br/>
Finn shuddered when he saw it.<br/>
<br/>
"So is that it?" Diller took the knife from Skunk, and casually examined it. "Seems sharp enough for the job. What are these scratches on the blade?"<br/>
<br/>
"Spells, probably," Finn said when Skunk didn't answer. "To make the magic work. What comes next?" he asked as Diller, seemingly fascinated, closely examined the knife by the torchlight.<br/>
<br/>
"Then, in only your own skin, you lower yourself into the pool with the gore of him whose skin you claim. You cover your own head. Then—"<br/>
<br/>
He fell silent and watchful.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that all?" Diller asked. "When you come back up—"<br/>
<br/>
"The skin of him will have bound itself to you," Skunk said. "You will have his face, his form, his eyes, his mind. All he was and all he had—"<br/>
<br/>
"His mind?" Diller said sharply. He and Finn exchanged a glance. The other said to Skunk, "You didn't mention that."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean, you get his mind?" Diller said.<br/>
<br/>
"All he had is yours. You are him. So you have ... all." Skunk spread his hands. "But you are yourself still. Inside. Beneath the skin." He drew a sharp fingernail over the breast of his prison work shirt. "You wear him like a skin. You wear his mind like a skin. But your soul—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright I get it," Diller said. "Mighty convenient," he mused. He glanced over at Mickey and Ironeyes and Randall, and there was a glint in his gaze. "Can you change back?"<br/>
<br/>
"You only wear the skin," Skunk said, truculently. "You can always tear it off."<br/>
<br/>
"Can you put another skin on after that?"<br/>
<br/>
Skunk shrugged in a way that was plainly affirmative.<br/>
<br/>
"Mighty convenient," Diller said again. "If it was just the skin, I'm not sure it would be worth it. I mean, getting out of this place, looking like someone else, that would be fine. We could walk right off without the cops being any wiser. But having to start over again with no ID or anything, with a face that belonged to someone else, having to pretend to be them—" He shook his head. "That would have worried me. But if we can just step in and take over ..."<br/>
<br/>
He ignored the stony glower that Skunk was boiling him with, and strolled over to where Mickey and the others were hanging back. "Let's talk about this, boys," he said.<br/>
<br/>
Finn, left alone with Skunk, put his head close to his friend's.<br/>
<br/>
"This is on the level?" he asked. Skunk nodded imperceptibly. "Because if we grab someone and do this to them, and nothing happens—" He licked his lips. "Well, that's another killing. And we're stuck out here, on this island, with police blockades going up. And Killer, he's—" He licked his lips again. "He's not going to be happy with you."<br/>
<br/>
He and Skunk held each other's gaze. A cunning light came into Skunk's eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"So, there's campers and other people on the island," Diller said as he and the other three joined the other two beside the pool. "After it's dark, Mickey and Randall'll—"<br/>
<br/>
"I lied," Skunk said. "I lied about the well. It's just water."<br/>
<br/>
"You lied?" Diller didn't sound surprised. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"To bring you here, to hide. I was scared to try the highway, I—"<br/>
<br/>
"So you made up a story about this cave and this well?"<br/>
<br/>
Skunk nodded.<br/>
<br/>
"And this knife?" Diller held it up so that the torchlight glinted off its edge. "You lie about this too?"<br/>
<br/>
Skunk swallowed, then nodded.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, that's funny," Diller said. "Because I think you're lying now. I think you were telling the truth before. Boys."<br/>
<br/>
There was a fractional pause, and then Mickey, Randall, and Ironeyes rushed Skunk. There was a brief tussle—which put Finn on the ground with a bloody mouth when he tried jumping in—and then the other three had Skunk by the arms and waist. The prisoner chuffed and snorted like a tethered stallion.<br/>
<br/>
"Put him in the pool," Diller ordered. "Get him out of his things and put him into the pool."<br/>
<br/>
"Killer!" Finn exclaimed as the other three forced Skunk to the pool's edge.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't need any smart guys trying to outsmart me," Diller said as he squatted beside the panting Finn. "You smart enough to understand that?"<br/>
<br/>
"But it's Skunk!" Finn protested. "He's the only one knows how it works!"<br/>
<br/>
Diller shrugged.<br/>
<br/>
"Look at it this way," he said, and his tone was almost pleasant as he held up the knife. "If he's right about how it works, then whoever gets his skin will also know how it works. So we haven't lost anything. On the other hand, if it doesn't work, well—" He shrugged. "We haven't lost anything."<br/>
<br/>
Finn stared, then glanced sidelong as the thrashing Skunk, now stripped of pants and shirt and shoes was forced into the pool by the other three. When Finn turned back to Diller, it was with lowered eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right," Diller said. He held the knife out to Finn. "You do it."<br/>
<br/>
Finn gasped. "M-me?"<br/>
<br/>
"He was your friend."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right!"<br/>
<br/>
"You want someone else wearing his skin, wearing his face, being him? Think you could stand to look at ... Skunk ... knowing it wasn't your friend?"<br/>
<br/>
Finn gaped, and lost all the color in his face.<br/>
<br/>
"Better make up your mind before they drown him," Diller said as the sloshing in the pool grew weaker. "Or before I decide that I'll have to be the one to scalp—"<br/>
<br/>
Finn grabbed the knife from Diller, and crawled over to the pool on his hands and knees. The others made room for him.<br/>
<br/>
The hand that gripped the knife was palsied as Finn plunged it beneath the inky surface and felt for the throat of the Navajo.<span class="fmjggefefjl3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 111111221211
author_id: seuzz
id: QG794VCGX
title: Party of Five, Chapter 2
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You suppress the urge all day to check in to see how your first chapter is doing. It's a bad jolt when you do, finding that it's gotten no comments and only about a dozen views. It's with much less excitement that you write and post the second chapter that evening.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
THEY WERE NEARING THE FERRY before Alfie addressed Susie again. "Did you find out what the cops are all out doing back there?" he asked, glancing into the SUV's rear view mirror. Susie was sitting in the middle of the back seat, her face bent low over her upraised cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't look." Her tone was Arctic, and her words ground against each other like icebergs.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett, in the passenger seat beside Alfie, gurgled with amusement.<br/>
<br/>
"You should've dropped her off back there," she said, "told them to arrest her for being a cold bitch in the second degree."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie shot her a warning glance, but she was absorbed in her own cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya, sitting beside Susie, shot her sister a surreptitious side glance. When she didn't respond, Tanya pulled out her own phone and sent her a text: <i>Gonna have to talk to Alfie sometime. </i><br/>
<br/>
She sensed Susie tensing, and steeled herself for the reply. But when it came, it wasn't as bad as she feared, though it was bad enough:  <i>Nite before we drive back then I'll talk to him. </i><br/>
<br/>
Tanya winced. And spring break had started out to be so awesome!<br/>
<br/>
Originally, she and Susie weren't even supposed to be going along. Scarlett's boyfriend, Brad, had scored a week's use of a two-bedroom family cabin on Saginac Island—it belonged to a friend of his mom's, from church—and the plan had been for him and Scarlett to go out for spring break, taking his friends Alfie and Doug along for company. He and Scarlett would take the master bedroom with its king-size bed, while the other two bunked in the two double beds in the kids' room.<br/>
<br/>
But then Brad's parents caught him with too much weed and too much whiskey, and grounded him. That's when Susie saw her chance. Alfie had just broken up with Becca Evans, and Susie—who had been hovering around Alfie for two years, just looking for the chance to scoop him up—said something to Scarlett, and suddenly it was Susie going to the island in Brad's place.<br/>
<br/>
More than that (Susie confided to Tanya): It was going to be her and Alfie snuggling in that king-size bed in the master bedroom. <br/>
<br/>
And then her and Tanya's parents pressured her into taking Tanya along too! Plainly, their hope was that Tanya would help keep Susie out of trouble, but that was ridiculous. There was no way that Tanya—being a junior and two years younger than Susie, who was a senior already in her own mind graduated from high school—was going to be any kind of restraint. But even if Tanya had been the elder, nothing was going to stop Susie from getting frisky with a hunky high school wrestler like Alfie Garson, and both girls knew it.<br/>
<br/>
And it was going to be great for Tanya, too, for there were bound to be other people on the island, including probably some cute boys for her. (Alfie's friend Doug was still going too, but he was kind of a dork and didn't count.) And if not, Tanya could still amuse herself with swimming and canoeing and hiking and picnicking and barbecuing and sunbathing and sitting around an outdoor fire in the evenings. All of which, in the form of posts and pictures and updates from the island, with Alfie and Susie and Scarlett in the background, would help make Tanya's reputation back in the junior class.<br/>
<br/>
But then ...<br/>
<br/>
But then, while they were waiting in the school parking lot for Scarlett (always late!) to show up ... Disaster! Alfie went into the school to use the bathroom, and Susie picked up his phone because she wanted to see what he was grinning about so hard while typing away so furiously. And when she saw what he'd been doing on the phone ... right there ... in front her ... while talking to her, even ...<br/>
<br/>
<i>Don't ruin this week for the rest of us. </i> That's what Tanya wanted to tell Susie. But that would have been counterproductive. In the first place, it wouldn't put Susie into any better of a temper. In the second place, it would just make her try to force everyone else to have fun while she stewed angrily at Alfie, which make things even more awkward.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Bloop!</i> A new text popped up on her phone.  <i>Are you texting Susie?</i> Doug (seated on the other side of Susie) wanted to know. Tanya texted back a quick yes.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Did she say why she's mad at Alfie? </i><br/>
<br/>
Tanya frowned. Did Doug think that Tanya didn't know?  <i>I know why she mad,</i> she replied.<br/>
<br/>
<i>O why? </i><br/>
<br/>
Now Tanya felt staggered. How could Doug not know? He had been there when Susie self-detonated all over the school parking lot! Was he really that oblivious?<br/>
<br/>
If he was, Tanya decided, she wasn't about to explain by text, not with Susie sitting between them!  <i>Tell u later,</i> she replied.<br/>
<br/>
Then, to Scarlett, in the seat ahead of her:  <i>Doug doesn't' know why Susies mad at Alfie!<br/>
<br/>
Omg lol!</i> Scarlett texted back, trailing it with a string of laughing/crying emojis.<br/>
<br/>
Then: "Hey Dougie?" Scarlett sang out from the front seat. "Do you know what sexting is?" Tanya almost leaped from her skin.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Doug said.<br/>
<br/>
"Just checking." A moment later, while Tanya was still trying to still her racing heart, Scarlett texted her:  <i>Bet u he does not.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Okay, ten minutes on the ferry," Alfie called out. "Then ten minutes to the cabin."<br/>
<br/>
Tanya sat up and looked out the window. She hadn't even noticed they had driven onto the ferry—a modest-sized thing that was carrying only them—and her stomach quivered with anxiety as she felt the craft slightly roll and dip as it pushed into the lake. <br/>
<br/>
"Have you ever been on a ferry before?" she asked Susie. Her sister shook her head. Then she looked up and took a deep breath, and let her phone fall into her lap.<br/>
<br/>
"Susie's not gonna get seasick," Scarlett said in a lilting tease. "She's had too much practice with things heaving and thrusting and rolling around beneath her."<br/>
<br/>
No one said anything, in reply or afterward, leaving Tanya with her thoughts until they were on the island and driving along a coastal road.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What was going on with Scarlett?</i> she wondered. The girl had a mouth on her, Tanya had always known that. She liked to tease and jeer, and she could let fly some really crude and cruel things when she had a mind. But Susie was her best friend! So why was she saying things like what she said? Was she mad that Susie had wangled her way onto this spring break party when Brad had to drop out? If so, that was going to make things even more awkward! Tanya shrank back in her seat and tried not to anticipate a week stuck on an island with people none of whom were talking to anyone else.<br/>
<br/>
After a mile or so, Alfie hung a left, and the SUV began to climb steeply while making a number of hairpin, switchback turns. This was much worse, somehow, than trying to ride the swells of the ferry in a closed car, and Tanya felt her forehead turning hot as her stomach clenched. She rolled down the window for some fresh air, just in time for them to pass a clearing between the pine trees that gave her a view of the lake below. It startled her to see that they were several hundred feet above the water level now, and still climbing a steep hillside.<br/>
<br/>
Fortunately, the road straightened out soon after, and it wasn't long before Alfie was turning into the drive in front of a rustic but classy-looking log cabin. Its timbers were polished, and its bay windows twinkled in the early afternoon sun; a deck extended out over the plunging hillside. "Here we are," he said. There was a sigh in his voice. "If you girls wanna go inside, me and Doug'll bring the things in."<br/>
<br/>
"I can get my own things," Susie snapped, and pushed at Tanya as the latter fumbled at her door. And so the two boys stood to one side, looking unhappy, as Susie grabbed her ruck sack from the back of the SUV and strode off for the cabin. Scarlett shared an open-mouthed smile with everyone as she grabbed her bag to follow. An awkward moment ensued as Tanya and Doug both stretched for their gear at the same time, then Doug stood aside as Tanya took hers first. She then waited until the boys had collected their bags before following them up some creaking, wooden steps onto the deck and then into cabin.<br/>
<br/>
It was neat but had a closed-up smell when they stepped inside. The furniture in the living room—two sofas joined into an L; a coffee table; and a small breakfast table in the corner—was clean-lined and modern. It was empty of people, but muffled sounds from down a short hallway told Tanya where the bedrooms were.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess this is where I'm sleeping," Doug sighed as he dropped a small suitcase onto one of the sofas: the plan had been for Scarlett and Tanya to share the kids' bedroom while Doug slept in the living room. But Alfie pushed Doug's suitcase off and dropped his own athletic kit there. "No," he said, "this is where I'm sleeping. Unless there's a doghouse out back." There was a hurt look in his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Before Tanya could think of anything to say, though, he strode off through another, wider doorway, and disappeared into a kitchen beyond. Tanya heard a cabinet door opening, and then the sound of water rushing from a faucet.<br/>
<br/>
Doug leaned over and spoke to her in a low voice. "So what happened between him and your sister?" he asked.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya made a face. <br/>
<br/>
"You said you knew what sexting was," she said. "Well, Alfie was sexting with Carla Jones while we were all waiting for Scarlett at the school. You know, right in front of Susie. And she caught him at it."<span class="fkggilligfh3710"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1111112212111
author_id: seuzz
id: EFSBBLTP5
title: Party of Five, Chapter 3
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You don't expect to see any reaction from Sean at work on Wednesday to the story you have started posting, and so you aren't disappointed. And after yesterday, you're not surprised, only a little hurt, to see no comments on Chapter 2 and only a dozen views.<br/>
<br/>
Is Sean one of your readers? You hope so, for this story is tailor-made to catch his interest, because it's a story that he himself has played around with writing. The webcomic it's based on is one of his favorites, and he had the idea some time ago to write up an adaptation of it. So you figure the intro by itself would have caught his eye.<br/>
<br/>
You get your homework done early, insert your copy of Sean's brain into your own, and get to work writing the next chapter.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
SUSIE SAT HUNCHED ON THE DOUBLE BED, her shoulders slumped and her rucksack still zipped by her side. She glared at the window. The heavy fabric curtains were drawn across it, so the room was dim and slightly stifling.<br/>
<br/>
<i>God,</i> she thought, <i>why was I so stupid, throwing myself at Alfie and into this vacation? Now I'm stuck here with him and Dougie and Scarlett, and I'm going to be miserable, and I'll be more miserable if they wind up having fun and even more miserabler if they don't! I should have just gone home after I saw those texts! Except—</i><br/>
<br/>
She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She had been nursing a low-grade migraine all the way out to the island, and now it was threatening to explode.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Except I wanted to hurt Alfie, and I knew the best way to do that was to come along still. But I'm only going to hurt myself, and he's going to hate me after this, and I've totally blown it with him!</i><br/>
<br/>
She clenched her eyes shut.<br/>
<br/>
<i>At least if I'd gone home, he'd have felt guilty and he'd have texted me or called me and we'd have made it all good. Now we're going to be stuck here not talking to each other, because I can't talk to him and I can't let him talk to me.</i><br/>
<br/>
She fell onto her side with a stifled groan and pushed her face into the rough quilt that covered the bed.<br/>
<br/>
Susie was the kind of girl who once she started blaming herself couldn't stop until she had heaped the sins of the universe onto her shoulders. <i>Oh, Susie you can be so stupid!</i> she continued as she explained everything (futilely) to herself. <i>Stupid, stupid, stupid! You knew he still wasn't over Becca, that he was just looking for someone to make it hurt less. And like a freaking idiot you decided that was the perfect moment to lunge at him. 'If you still got room for someone to go with you to the island, Alfie, I'd love to go! I've never been out to Saginac! You still going to bunk with Dougie, right? So I guess that leaves that big bed for me and Scarlett? That doesn't seem fair, you should take it. Oh, you don't want to share it with Dougie? I guess I wouldn't mind sharing it with you. I mean, if you don't mind!'"</i><br/>
<br/>
She clenched her fists.<br/>
<br/>
<i>You thought you were so freaking clever, Susie Parsons, by being so freaking obvious. And the way he just instantly said yes, and his face just lit up, you thought it was all on account of you, that Alfie must have just been waiting for a chance with you, and that this was it! But he would'a taken anyone, he wouldn'a taken Carla Freaking Jones if she'd got to him first! And I wish she had! Then maybe he'd have been sexting with me while waiting in the school parking lot with her, because he doesn't care who he's with or how he's doing it with them, he just wants—!</i><br/>
<br/>
Someone shuffled their feet in the hallway, and Susie shot up with frown of terror. She felt the tears bruising the back of her eye, but she kept her hands down and clenched.<br/>
<br/>
It was Tanya. She was standing in the doorway but hanging back, with her bag over her shoulder. Her expression was wary, and for a moment Susie thought she was going to bolt. But instead she grasped the edge of the doorframe and said, "Hey, I guess you're sleeping in here?"<br/>
<br/>
Susie brushed an eye with the heel of her hand.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," she muttered. "I don't know where else I can sleep."<br/>
<br/>
"Can I take the other bed, then?" Tanya asked. But she still hung back even after Susie waved dismissively at it.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," Tanya said. "If you want to go back home instead of staying here— I mean, it's our SUV, we can take off with it if we want, and Alfie would totally deserve—<br/>
<br/>
"No!" Susie said.<br/>
<br/>
"Really, I don't mind going back if—"<br/>
<br/>
"And leave Alfie up here alone with Scarlett?" Susie snorted. "You know what they'll get up to, right?"<br/>
<br/>
Tanya made a face. Then her mouth fell open when she saw that Susie was serious.<br/>
<br/>
"But ... she's going with Brad!" she protested. "And he's, like, Alfie's best friend!"<br/>
<br/>
"Alfie's acting like a tomcat in heat, he won't—"<br/>
<br/>
"But Scarlett wouldn't—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Wouldn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
"Susie!"<br/>
<br/>
The sisters stared at each other. Then Susie dove across the bed to grab Tanya by the wrist and pull her inside. "Close the door," she hissed. Tanya stood dumfounded while Susie leaned in close.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen, Scarlett's my best friend," Susie said after they were shut up inside the dim, stuffy bedroom. "But she's a skank's skank. She'd do it with Dougie if it was just the two of them here! You know who arranged it so we could come? Brad." Susie nodded. "He told Scarlett to find someone to come out in his place, to find some girl who could keep Alfie distracted. 'Cos he knew if him and Scarlett were out here alone, or even just with Dougie—"<br/>
<br/>
Tanya nearly shrieked. "He told his own girlfriend he didn't trust her?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! Well, not like that! Brad's not that much of a dumbass! He was just, like, 'If it can't be you and me, babe, can you set it up so it's Alfie and someone else?' So she asked me if I would, like, be interested, and I—"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought it was your idea! That you went to Alfie—" <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, after! Scarlett asked if I wanted to come along, but that was just to, you know, hang out and do stuff. But then Brad also asked me to keep Alfie distracted from Scarlett." <i>Which I was happy to do,</i> Susie added privately.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya turned this over in her mind. "So if you and I leave," she started to say.<br/>
<br/>
"That'll leave Alfie here with Scarlett and Dougie. And even if Scarlett doesn't do anything with either of them, Brad'll think—"<br/>
<br/>
Tanya groaned. "Oh, we are so screwed!"<br/>
<br/>
Susie looked at her sharply. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because of what you told me! We can't leave, so we're stuck here with them. And you and Alfie—"<br/>
<br/>
Susie fell back onto the bed.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, don't worry about me and Alfie," she said. "I'll start being polite to him again after I'm done unpacking. Everyone'll have fun. You'll have fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Not likely!"<br/>
<br/>
Susie made a spiteful face at Tanya. She could be such a goodie-goodie, and such a martyr when other people were unhappy. What was the old saying about attention-whores? <i>The bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral!</i> Tanya never tried playing the bride, but if someone was having a funeral, Tanya would definitely try upstaging the corpse!<br/>
<br/>
"I'm going to go talk to Scarlett," Susie suddenly declared, and clambered to her feet. "Where is she?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. But why do you want to talk to her?" Tanya sounded bewildered. "I mean, after she was being such a bitch to you on the way up here!"<br/>
<br/>
Susie gave her another sour look. "You don't understand her, that's all," she said. Then she opened the door, looked out to make sure the coast was clear, and hopped the rest of the way down the hallway to look into the master bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
As she expected, Scarlett was there, slowly unpacking the biggest suitcase Susie had ever seen. She looked up from the bikini she was folding back up again, and smiled broadly.<br/>
<br/>
"I should'a guessed you'd take over this room," Susie said. "Mind if I take the other side of the bed?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure!" Scarlett scooped up the bikini and dropped it onto a stack of clothes that was getting taller by the minute. "Alfie says he'll be taking the sofa. I guess that puts Dougie and your sister in the other bedroom. Oh, hey, do you think Tanya likes Dougie?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, I've never talked to her about him."<br/>
<br/>
"I should tell him to wear shorts while we're here. Some of those khaki ones he likes. Doesn't he have the sexiest legs? And his knees!" She grinned and groaned.<br/>
<br/>
"If Tanya and I left early, any chance we could get you to go back with us?"<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett almost dropped the t-shirt she was folding.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" she cried. "Go back early? Why—? Oh, Susie!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if we do. Tanya's being a little pill about this whole situation—"<br/>
<br/>
"So, spray her down with a hose or something! No way I'm going back to town early, and I can't believe you— You don't wanna leave early, do you?" A look of mild alarm showed on her face.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm not going back if you're not going back," Susie said.<br/>
<br/>
And as soon as she said it, she felt it. She knew for a fact now that there was no way she was going to run off.<br/>
<br/>
That was why she had said she needed to talk to Scarlett, she realized. Because she knew that Scarlett could bully her out of running away without even trying to.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," Scarlett said as she went back to folding the t-shirt, "I'm not going back early even if you and everyone else have a medical emergency. So don't plan on having one. Okay?"<br/>
<br/>
She looked up from her task and gave Susie a slow, heavy wink.<br/>
<br/>
Susie smiled in relief, and said that she'd go get her ruck sack and be right back.<span class="fenlefeele3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11111122121111
author_id: seuzz
id: CLZR8Q68C
title: Party of Five, Chapter 4
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>DOUG LEANED FORWARD ON THE SOFA with his hands clasped between his knees as he watched Alfie. The girls had pushed him out of the kitchen when he offered to help clean up after dinner, and he was now busying himself by setting up his laptop on the tiny table they had just cleared.<br/>
<br/>
It surprised Doug that Alfie had brought his laptop. Alfie was not an electronics kind of guy. Of course he had a phone and a game player at home, and of course he had a laptop too, for schoolwork. But Doug would have expected Alfie to leave everything but the phone at home. For the out-of-doors—where a wrestler and football player like Alfie usually liked to be—he only needed shorts and muscle shirts and maybe swim trunks. And the in-doors ...<br/>
<br/>
Well, for inside play he'd brought Susie along. Right?<br/>
<br/>
Doug winced inwardly at the crudity of the thought.<br/>
<br/>
But it was the truth, wasn't it? <br/>
<br/>
For as long as he'd known Alfie—and Doug had known him since seventh grade—Alfie was smooth with the girls. He'd been cute when they were in middle school, and then cute and hunky until his junior year in high school, when he graduated to handsome and hunky. And Alfie knew it. He knew he didn't have to try with them, he only had to look them in the eye and listen when the sidled up to him with a smile and a toss of their hair, and he knew that when he was good and ready all he had to do was lean over to put his mouth close to theirs, hesitate, and then close the deal.<br/>
<br/>
That's what he called it, too. "Closing the deal." <i>The girls do all the work, he told Doug when Doug asked him how he did it, and I just close the deal.</i><br/>
<br/>
Alfie never had a girl far out of reach, not even when he was supposedly going steady and exclusively with Becca, and when she told him she was tired of it and broke up with him, Doug knew there'd be another one along soon enough. Doug even saw it was going to be Susie Parsons before he'd even heard about the change in spring break plans. But now ...<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Doug," Alfie called. "I can't get the internet." He was glowering at the laptop screen. Doug, who was used to being the "tech troubleshooter" in the group, got up to go see what the problem was.<br/>
<br/>
"Dude, why'd you bring your laptop?" he asked as he bent over the back of Alfie's chair to look at the screen.<br/>
<br/>
"Why'd you bring yours?" Alfie retorted.<br/>
<br/>
"In case I wanted to game."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well ..." Alfie indicated his laptop.<br/>
<br/>
"What game are you wanting to play?"<br/>
<br/>
"I just wanna get online!"<br/>
<br/>
"You've got your phone."<br/>
<br/>
"Doug!" Alfie turned his head to glare at his friend. It put them almost nose to nose.  Doug pulled back.<br/>
<br/>
He was too secure in his heterosexuality—he carried books through the school hallway in his hand, not a backpack, so he could hide the boners he still got unbidden—to really mind all the good-natured gibes he sometimes got about being "queer for Alfie." But putting his face so close to his friend's made him just a little too self-conscious about how conscious he was of Alfie's good looks.<br/>
<br/>
"Well—" Doug pushed his heavy-framed glasses up his nose and went back to looking at the screen. He reached over Alfie's shoulder to touch the trackpad and open up details on the wifi connection. "Do you know which network you're trying to connect to?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you need a password for all of them anyway, it looks like. Do you know any of the passwords?"<br/>
<br/>
"How the fuck—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I know the passwords!" a voice sang out behind them. Doug and Alfie both turned to see Scarlett grinning at them from the kitchen doorway.<br/>
<br/>
Doug's heart hammered and his cock stirred as she slunk her way over to join them.<br/>
<br/>
"Here." She leaned over Alfie, bracketing his neck between her arms and resting her elbows on his shoulders as she touched the track pad and tapped at the keys. "Brad told me which network it was and what the password is. Mmm!" She sniffed at Alfie's mane of bright, golden hair. "I love your shampoo! What do you use?"<br/>
<br/>
Doug found himself rooted to the floor, unable to move or lean away even as Scarlett brushed up against him. She was no athlete, she was just naturally curvaceous, with large thighs, bowl-like hips, an inwardly tapering stomach, and two great melons that drooped in front. Her skin was soft, silken, and creamy to the eye, and the scent of her own body wash rose off her. Her dark hair tumbled down around her shoulders in thick cascades. She had large eyes, a wide mouth, a bold nose, and a throaty voice that "fried" when she talked dirty, which was often.<br/>
<br/>
Doug, who played the third wheel with Brad and Alfie when their other wrestling friends dropped away, had had lots of opportunities to watch Scarlett in action. She liked to drape her arms over a guy's shoulders and around his neck, and to hang off him. (She herself wasn't a small girl, she had real physical weight, so this trick limited her choice of boyfriend to those built like brick walls.) She would then talk to him in that low throaty "fry" while letting her eyes play over his nose and cheeks and jaw and chin, with the occasional dart up to his eyes to confirm that he was paying attention to her, and when she got tired of being flirty she would open her mouth and cover his. She liked long, slow, wet, deep kisses with lots of smacking noises, and she would groan and whimper to voice her happiness. And when she was tired of kissing, she would drop her arms to embrace him about the waist, turn her head to rest it against the top of his chest, and close her eyes and smile and pretend to fall asleep against him while using him as a hitching post.<br/>
<br/>
Sometimes, when she did this, whether in Brad's house or Alfie's, it would drive Doug into the bathroom to whack off over the toilet. He would always pretend afterward that he'd had to take a shit, and would spray deodorizing scent all over the bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
He wouldn't be able to do that here. But there were woods nearby, he ruefully reflected as he watched Scarlett bury her mouth inside Alfie's hair while she slowly pecked at the computer keyboard.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett remained where she stood, arms now clasping Alfie loosely around the neck, and watching with an open-mouthed smile of delight as he tapped at the computer. Garbled sounds began to play, and Scarlett's eyes brightened. Doug went back to sit on the couch. He drew a knee up, propped his phone there, and pretended to be absorbed in Twitter.<br/>
<br/>
He remained there even after Susie and Tanya, when finished washing up, came out to watch over the other two's shoulders, and he said nothing when Tanya, after fetching her own phone from a bedroom, plopped onto the other end of the sofa from him. He watched as Susie drifted off down the hallway and didn't come back, and he watched as Alfie said something about wanting to step out onto the porch, and went out through a sliding glass door with Scarlett trailing behind.<br/>
<br/>
He also watched out of the corner of his eye as Tanya, pretending to read her own cell phone, watched all this as well.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya was a cutie, and Doug felt himself quicken as he thought of her being near him. She wasn't as voluptuous as her sister: her hips were slimmer and her breasts smaller, so her curves weren't as pronounced. But she was slim and limber, and she wore slanty, "sexy librarian" glasses—so much more attractive than the square, thick-framed glasses that he wore. (But what would a "sexy" pair of glasses on a guy look like? He often wondered.) She also wore her tawny brown hair back in a sporty pony tail.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Would I have a chance with her?</i> he wondered now. <i>Scarlett is going with Brad, Susie is supposed to be with Alfie (even if they are now fighting) ...</i> That only left him and Tanya unattached to anyone. True, she was a junior, but that was an advantage he had over her, being a senior himself. He knew that he wasn't strong and bluff and handsome like Alfie or Brad or their other friends on the football and wrestling teams. But he did hang out with them, he was ... for some reason that he himself didn't quite understand ... accepted by them. None of them were likely to pay any attention to Tanya during the last few months of the school year. But he could, starting this week. And she might be glad of it, he thought, because hanging out with the popular senior crowd through him would have to be less awkward than using her own sister as a hook.<br/>
<br/>
Doug frowned to himself. Did he just speculate that Tanya might want to ... use him ... as a way to get herself in with a better crowd?<br/>
<br/>
Abashed, and a little sick with a touch of self-loathing, he didn't say anything when Tanya got up and disappeared down the hall to the bedrooms.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Only after writing and posting Chapter 4 do you yield to the urge to check the stats on the other three chapters. You're a little gratified to see that yesterday's chapter had a slightly better premiere—almost 20 views!—than the first two, and that the other two have each racked up another fifteen to twenty views. Still no comments, though.<br/>
<br/>
You have the urge to write, but you channel that energy into outlining. Your plan is to introduce each of the five main characters in a chapter of their own before starting the actual story—the story as it appears in the actual webcomic—but once that part gets rolling, the point of view could get tricky. So you spend an hour reading and rereading the original webcomic and chopping it up into segments that will correspond with chapters, and assigning a viewpoint character to each.<br/>
<br/>
It's not the kind of exercise you (or Sean) have ever done before, and it gives you a warm glow of satisfaction.<span class="fmjggefefgh3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 111111221211111
author_id: seuzz
id: NJ2TF9Y9Z
title: Party of Five, Chapter 5
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"I WAS REALLY STUPID, WASN'T I?"<br/>
<br/>
Alfie gripped the railing around that surrounded the deck and glared off into the dark. The light that spilled from behind made the darkness of the wood beyond even deeper by comparison, and it washed out the stars besides. It was like standing on the prow of a ship as it silently clove a sea of ink.<br/>
<br/>
"It depends on what you want, Alfie," Scarlett replied. "If you want to get it on with Clara, sexting with her in front of another girl's about the best thing you could've done."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie winced, then glared.<br/>
<br/>
Sometimes he couldn't stand Scarlett. All she talked about was sex. And it wasn't even "sex" that she was talking about, like what good sex was or when it was good or maybe when you shouldn't be having it. No, all she talked about was who was having sex with who. About who was getting it and who was giving it. And sometimes, he thought, she wasn't even talking about that, she was talking about who was "lucky" to get it, and who was only "settling" with the other person, and what it said about who was on top and who was on their way down. And even then she treated it like it was just a joke.<br/>
<br/>
But if he wanted to talk about him and Susie, there was no else to talk. Doug would be sympathetic, but he was still a virgin and pretty damn clueless about girls, and Tanya would be too loyal to her sister or something. Scarlett was Susie's best friend, but she wasn't loyal to anyone but herself. And though maybe he hated it about her, Alfie had to give it to her that she knew all about sex and what it meant to people. To particular people, even. It sometimes took his breath away how good she was at reading people.<br/>
<br/>
"So, she didn't just come along so's as to get into bed with me, did she?" he said aloud.<br/>
<br/>
"No, she also wanted to do some canoeing."<br/>
<br/>
"Be serious, Scarlett. If all she wanted was to, you know, she wouldn't be so pissed at me. Would she?"<br/>
<br/>
"If all Susie wanted was just wanted to, you know," Scarlett replied, "she would'a tried doing 'you know' with you before, Alfie."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie squinted sidelong at her. Scarlett was lounging on her hip against the railing. Her bare arms were folded against the nighttime chill, but she was keeping it casual. <i>But not really casual,</i> he thought. She was paying attention. She was <i>interested</i> in his predicament.<br/>
<br/>
"So she was holding out for me and Becca breaking up? Why?" he asked, though he was guessing the answer.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett gave him a look.<br/>
<br/>
"Did you ever go back to anyone a second time? I'm talking about the side dishes, not Becca."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie winced again, though he shouldn't have been surprised that Scarlett knew the slang phrase he had for those girls he cheated on Becca with. He'd used it with Brad often enough when talking about them. Maybe even in front of Scarlett, but he couldn't remember.<br/>
<br/>
He shook his head.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there you are. Susie didn't just want you once, Alfie. And she set it up so you were set up to get it two or even three times a day while we were up here."<br/>
<br/>
"God, I was stupid for fucking that up."<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett laughed.<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't have to be that way, Alfie. You know what she wants now. So give it to her."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie shifted on his feet, squeezing and releasing the railing. When he said nothing, she said, "You can lie to her, Alfie. Tell her one thing tonight, and something else when we get back to town."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you freaking serious?" Alfie snapped. "Oh, fuck, what am I asking for? Of course you're serious!" <i>You were all over me back at the computer earlier,</i> he silently added.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just telling you what you could do," Scarlett said. She didn't sound the least offended. "You know, what are your options, depending on what you want. What do you want? I mean, aside from five blow jobs a day while we're up here?" she added with a giggle.<br/>
<br/>
And that was the problem, Alfie admitted to himself. He didn't know what he wanted from Susie, or for himself.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm gonna take a walk and think about it," he said.<br/>
<br/>
"It's dark!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll stick to the road."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie swung himself over the railing and dropped, cat-like, to the ground below. Loose stones slid under his soles as he scrambled for the paved road a dozen feet away.<br/>
<br/>
<i>You're spoiled, man,</i> he chided himself as he strode along. <i>You get it too easy. What does Dad like to say, Suffering builds character? You've never suffered where the girls are concerned. Guess that means you don't got character.</i><br/>
<br/>
He hung his head.<br/>
<br/>
But Brad didn't suffer either, of course, and neither did Coop. In fact, none of his friends suffered, really. Well, except for Doug, but he was a special case. The other guys,  his teammates, they got all they wanted, when they wanted, basically.<br/>
<br/>
Except they didn't have side dishes, the way he did. Oh, Brad sometimes slipped off to do something whenever he got fed up with Scarlett, and Rick would hook up with someone at a party if Amy couldn't make it. But even Coop, who spent most of his sophomore and junior years treating the high school girls like trays at a buffet, had settled down with Yvette.<br/>
<br/>
And it was about that time, too, now that he recalled, that Alfie told Becca he wanted her to be his steady thing. ("The Alf-a-Beck," as Scarlett and a lot of other girls started calling them.) But from the start he couldn't think of himself as "exclusive" to her.<br/>
<br/>
Like, the Saturday after he told her they were going steady, she had a family dinner date and couldn't make it out to a party at Coop's, so he had called Trish to confirm that she'd be there, and he'd picked her up and they'd wound up at the quarry instead and didn't make it to Coop's until around eleven, her with her bra left hanging on his rearview mirror and him with her lipstick all over his face and neck and chest. (And lower, where he'd have to unbutton his shirt to his belt and unzip his jeans in order for you to see.) And the following Monday at school he talked about it in class, with some of the other guys, with Becca sitting right there next to him.<br/>
<br/>
And when she didn't make a federal case out of it, he knew she'd be cool with him, you know, going with other girls for a laugh and a blow job so long as he came back to her, which he had every intention of doing because (let's face it) Becca was hot.<br/>
<br/>
So, even next to Brad and Coop and Rick and them, Alfie felt like he lacked character, because they at least were mostly exclusive to their girls and didn't just do it with any girl who smiled at them.<br/>
<br/>
As he paced along, unseeing in the dark, he worked himself into an even darker and dour mood. <br/>
<br/>
<i>Maybe Doug was really the lucky one,</i> he found himself thinking. <i>Still a virgin, with that first time in front of him. Oh man, wouldn't it be great to still have that rush in front of you, to look forward to? Alfie thought. And when Doug finally did it, he wouldn't screw up by running out on her. Doug was loyal. Doug understood gratitude. Doug would love the girl he lost his virginity to, before and after. And wouldn't that be a happier thing than just banging this girl and then that girl and then some other girl, before coming back to the one you'd promised you'd—eventually—come back to?</i><br/>
<br/>
But it was too late for him now. Even if he found a girl he wanted to devote himself to, he wouldn't be able to have that fresh and unspoiled sense of joy with her that Doug was going to have.<br/>
<br/>
Alfie had come to a turn in the road, and that made him aware that he'd been walking for a good long time. He should probably turn back.<br/>
<br/>
And as he turned, he saw someone standing under a tree near at hand. He squinted at the figure. It was probably just a local, or another vacationer. But he didn't like the way the person seemed to be ... skulking. "Hello?" he called out a firm, clear voice.<br/>
<br/>
The person stepped closer, into the road, and Alfie frowned. He looked like an Indian—he had the narrow, severe features of one, and long hair that fell straight past the top of his shoulders. A day laborer or something, Alfie thought. Someone brought out to dig a septic tank or repair a roof.<br/>
<br/>
Unconsciously, on instinct, probably, Alfie hitched his hands onto hips and put out his chest. The other stopped in mid-step, and hung back warily.<br/>
<br/>
Then, when Alfie lifted his chin, the man stepped back into the shadows and melted into the wood.<br/>
<br/>
Alfie stared after him. Then he shrugged and resumed his walk back to the cabin.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Oh, son of a bitch!</i><br/>
<br/>
Like yesterday, you waited until you have written and posted a new chapter of the story before checking the stats on the others. Your heart leapt when you saw that there was a comment on Chapter 4, and eagerly you clicked on it. Then your heart crashed when you read it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Whens something going to happen?</i><br/>
<br/>
It takes you a few minutes to master your temper—can't the asshole see that you're setting the situation up?—and when you reply you pretend cheerfulness: <i>Lol just hang on.</i><br/>
<br/>
But the jab lights a fire under you, and in a burst of energy that leaves you exhausted and strung out, you push out and publish two more chapters, finally getting to a body-jacking in chapter 7.<br/>
<br/>
It's a good thing you went ahead and wrote some more, because Chapter 5 (the first one you published) now also has a comment when you check, and it is morale-crushing:<br/>
<br/>
<i>Loosing interest.</i><span class="fngigffkgfm3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1111112212111111
author_id: seuzz
id: ELPV76B82
title: Party of Five, Chapter 6
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>AFTER ALFIE HAD GONE, Scarlett went back inside to the kitchen. The owners had stocked the fridge with tiny bottles of Coke Zeros, and Scarlett drank one while leaning against the sink.<br/>
<br/>
What a crazy spring break trip this was turning into!<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett knew what her friends thought: <i>Scarlett loves drama!</i> And they weren't wrong. But they weren't exactly right either. It wasn't that Scarlett loved drama for its own sake. It's that she hated being bored.<br/>
<br/>
And drama, for Scarlett, was the opposite of boredom.<br/>
<br/>
No one, she told herself when she bothered to introspect (which in truth wasn't often), could say that she liked to stir up drama. She loved to listen to gossip but she hardly ever passed any along, and though she had plenty to say when gossip was offered, it was only ever commentary. Did Alfie spend the weekend with first Stephanie and then Katrina, while Becca was out of town at her grandmother's? Well, that was an interesting thing to know, and it was interesting to see what Stephanie did when she found out about Katrina, and when Katrina found out about Stephanie; and, of course, when Becca found out about both of them. That had been fun, and Scarlett hadn't had to say a single word to anyone because other girls took care of it!<br/>
<br/>
But Scarlett didn't say anything to a anyone about how Becca confided to her that there was a boy she was sweet on in elementary school back when she lived in Jefferson, and that she intended to look him up and maybe go out with him while she was at her grandmother's. She knew the difference between enjoying the drama that other people made, and making it herself.<br/>
<br/>
That's why she didn't much care about Brad and his little flirtations and cheats. She'd be causing the drama herself if she made a big deal about them. No, she handled those things in another way that staved off boredom: by reminding Brad of the reasons that he was going out with her, and why he would always like her more than he'd like the other girls at school.<br/>
<br/>
Nor could anyone say that she didn't care about her friends when they got themselves wound up around an axle. Take this current situation which had set her nostrils flaring, the situation with Dougie.<br/>
<br/>
Oh sure, the spat between Alfie and Susie was interesting in a way, but mostly only for the way it made more dramatic Dougie's impending, catastrophic sploodge.<br/>
<br/>
Everyone thought Dougie the odd man out in the Brad-Alfie, letterman-jacket gang. And he was. The others were wrestlers and football players and sex players. They were the popular guys who got invited to all the parties, and whose parties everyone went to. They got good grades—none of them were dummies—but it was their muscles and their looks that everyone paid attention to. Dougie got good grades too—better grades at harder classes—but he hadn't done anything athletic since his days playing freshman soccer. (Which was probably why his legs were so strong and shapely and sexy.) Instead, he was quiet, bookish, shy, funny in a low-key, observational kind of way, and a loner even in a crowd. (And especially in a crowd of mouthy, jostling, breast-pinching jocks.) And so everyone wondered why they always saw him with those other guys, and those other guys (especially Alfie) with him.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett knew why, though she wasn't telling anyone. It was obvious to her, and she sometimes rolled her eyes but bit her tongue when others wondered aloud about it. It was because Dougie had a crush on them, while to them he was like a good-luck mascot.<br/>
<br/>
Well, when she said (to herself) that Dougie had a crush on them, she didn't mean he was gay—though plenty of other girls, stupider and cruder girls, had made the leering innuendo. Dougie was not gay, and you only had to look at him to see it. (If you looked at him when he didn't realize you were looking, you'd be bound to catch his eyes popping as he ogled a pair of breasts or a bit of leg.) No, Dougie crushed on Alfie (and the others, but mostly Alfie) because he had grown up with them, and as they outdistanced him physically he had compensated not by resenting the changes but by appreciating and even venerating them, in a way. Dougie loved his friends, and so to prevent a distance from opening between them, he made himself love those differences that threatened to push them apart. That was why he attended all their games though he obviously would have preferred to stay at home, why he threw himself into their parties even though he never ended up with a girl on his arm. It's why he counseled Rick when Rick thought Amy was going to break up with him, and why he encouraged Alfie in his pursuit of "side dishes" by drinking in gleefully all the details Alfie had to share afterward. It was to keep him connected to them.<br/>
<br/>
And they kept and cared for Dougie because he was so doggedly devoted to them. And also because they were all good guys who genuinely liked him.<br/>
<br/>
But the tension was winding up too tight, had been all year. Dougie himself probably didn't realize how sexually frustrated he was, but Scarlett could see it in his eyes. They got wet all the time now at school, wet like the front of his briefs were probably damp by the end of the day. All these friends he loved so much—who he wanted to be with and to be like, and in Alfie's case probably wanted to be, full stop—were getting laid and getting blow jobs, were cooping up every weekend in the back of a car or a private corner of the old quarry or borrowing a friend's bedroom when the friend could promise his folks weren't home ... And Dougie was getting none of it for himself. He was a starving man watching well-fed men gorge themselves at dinner, and he couldn't even let himself get mad at them for not sharing.<br/>
<br/>
Something was going to give, and it was going to give soon.<br/>
<br/>
That's why Scarlett, who had been rather dreading a weekend on the island with Brad, cut off from the rest of the world, had been rather relieved when he got grounded, and had secretly rejoiced when, first, Brad suggested that Susie go in his place; and, second, when Tanya signed up to come along too. Dougie had started to back out, but Scarlett goaded Alfie into making sure he stayed in the party.<br/>
<br/>
Because the way Scarlett saw it, one of two things was bound to happen after a week of isolation. Either Susie and Alfie would fight, and Susie would throw herself at Dougie in revenge; or Dougie would finally screw up the courage to try losing his virginity and would make some kind of a move on Tanya.<br/>
<br/>
Each possibility was ripe with further possible drama. But the suspense of watching, even if nothing actually happened, would be enough to make the week spicy!<br/>
<br/>
After finishing her soda, Scarlett looked into the living room, but found it empty. The bedroom doors were all closed. Rather than disturb any of the others—who were probably bringing themselves nicely to a boil already and probably didn't need any stoking from her—Scarlett went back on the deck to wait for Alfie to get back. She quickly grew bored, however, and decided to go looking for him, so she could walk and talk to him on the way back to the house.<br/>
<br/>
She had no idea which direction he had gone, so she started by going downhill, back the way they had driven up. It was an easy walk down, but when she came to the first switchback she thought how awful it would be to hike back up twice as far as she walked down, so she turned around and huffed-and-puffed her way back up to the cabin. That's when she saw that the road was flatter leading the other way, so she continued along it, hoping that this was the way that Alfie had come up. But again she reached a switchback without meeting him.<br/>
<br/>
She frowned. This was vexing, because the road, after turning back again, began to climb very steeply, and she was in no mood to make the climb. Well, screw Alfie, she decided, but she had already forgotten her pique by the time she had taken a dozen strides back to the house.<br/>
<br/>
She hadn't gone far, however, when she heard the snap of a branch from the woods off to her right. She slowed up and peered into the darkness, and saw something moving in the shadows under the trees.<br/>
<br/>
At first she thought it might be a deer. A more alarming thought was that it might be a bear. Only when she recognized the shape and color of a blue work shirt did she realize it must be a person.<br/>
<br/>
"Alfie?" she said before remembering that he had been wearing a red t-shirt when he left, and so it couldn't be him.<br/>
<br/>
Fear now took hold of her, and she turned to scamper back toward the house. But she had only taken half a dozen steps before another figure leaped into the road in front of her and caught her in an embrace. She opened her mouth to gasp, but a hand went over it.<br/>
<br/>
And then she felt the other man pressing against her from behind.<span class="feifnghli379"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11111122121111111
author_id: seuzz
id: LDXK737T7
title: Party of Five, Chapter 7
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>THE GIRL WAS HEFTY AND HAD SOME MUSCLES, so it was a struggle getting her off the road and into the brush. Mickey was badly tempted when Randall suggested hitting her with a rock to quiet her down. But instead he pulled off his denim shirt and swaddled the girl's head with it like a bag while Randall held her. That at least meant they could use four hands to carry her, by the shoulders and knees, up the hillside. That was slow work still, even after Finn joined them and they could take turns hauling her  ass back up to the caves.<br/>
<br/>
"A girl?" Killer growled when, after what felt like an hour, they had hauled her into the cavern where the well was. "You brought back a girl? You want to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck's it matter?' Randall growled. He was hot, exhausted, and angry, just like the other two, but he still had the strength to pinion the weeping girl from behind in a headlock. "What's worse, spending the rest of your life in Woodson, or spending it as a girl?"<br/>
<br/>
"At least you'd have tits," Ironeyes said. He was staring hard at their prisoner's heaving bosoms.<br/>
<br/>
"So how do we decide this?" Mickey asked. His eyes darted nervously about the group. "Draw lots?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm in charge," Killer growled. "Randall, you take her over—"<br/>
<br/>
"I think we should draw lots," Micky insisted. His heart was pounding in his chest and in his throat.<br/>
<br/>
A fell light blazed in Killer's eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm in charge," he sputtered, "and I'm not—! I'm saying—!"<br/>
<br/>
"So we draw lots," Mickey said, indicating Ironeyes and Randall. "The three of us. You and—"<br/>
<br/>
He had never been able to put a name to the ... last member of their gang. Not since they had they used the well.<br/>
<br/>
It had given Mickey a bad turn, and he had nearly let out a yell. There was something wrong about the water in the well, and Mickey had shuddered all over as it lapped over his wrists and forearms as he held the struggling Skunk beneath its surface. The water had clung and pulled at him like a liquid, living thing, and he had the terrible impression it was trying to leech the flesh and muscles off his bones. He had scrambled back with relief when Finn pushed him aside to kneel over Skunk.<br/>
<br/>
And he had backed farther off after Finn had laid aside the knife to disrobe. He had watched from the back of the cave, sick with dread, as Finn stepped over the lip of the well, falling straight in and vanishing under the surface. The water hadn't even splashed. For a lingering moment the pool had rippled and gurgled, and not a bubble showed on its surface.<br/>
<br/>
Then with a gasp, a head had erupted to break the surface. It had been impossible, by the flickering torchlight, to make out his face. But as he grasped the edge of the pool and pulled himself up, Mickey recognized Skunk by his long, sleek hair.<br/>
<br/>
The man had pulled himself up and onto his feet and stood there awkwardly, the water streaming off, as he stared down at the ground. Killer had stepped forward and seized him by the chin, wrenching his face up. He had muttered something, and after a ghastly moment, Skunk had muttered something back. Then Killer stepped back and turned a triumphant eye onto the other three. "It works, boys," he'd said.<br/>
<br/>
And then Skunk, as though remembering where he was, had begun to dress.<br/>
<br/>
He'd told them more about the well, afterward, as they sat or hunched on the rocky floor in the next chamber over. His voice was guttural, like Skunk's, as he spoke of his grandfather and great-grandfather, who had been shamans, and from whom he had learned the lore of the well. It was the place where the skinwalkers, the yee naaldlooshii, drank, and by some transference some of their magic had passed into its waters. It was an evil place, to be used only in dire need, as when an important fugitive needed a new skin to hide from the soldiers or the police.<br/>
<br/>
But though he looked like Skunk and spoke like Skunk, he also spoke like Finn, and knew what Finn had known, and he assured the others that he was, in his soul, Finn. "It'll be the same with you, too," he'd said as he absently touched and scratched at himself. "In your new skins."<br/>
<br/>
And now it was Mickey's chance at a new skin.<br/>
<br/>
Killer accepted the suggested compromise, and the other two played rock-scissors-paper, with the first to lose outright taking the girl's skin. On the third try, Mickey's scissors were crushed by the rocks of Randall and Ironeyes.<br/>
<br/>
He tried not to show his relief.<br/>
<br/>
For he was sick of the caverns, and of the company of the others, and the "creep" it gave him when Skunk-who-was-not-Skunk looked at him with his dark, probing eyes. To get back out into the sunlight and air, he would be content with almost any skin, probably. Even that of a girl.<br/>
<br/>
Or even, he admitted to himself, especially of this girl. Her bosoms were enormous.<br/>
<br/>
He followed Skunk as he shuffled the struggling girl over to the pool. She was underdressed in sandals, short-shorts, a t-shirt and a bra, so it was quick if messy work to strip her. Then Mickey took over and pushed her into the water. She fell in feet first, and when her head bobbed back to the surface, he knelt to push her back under with one hand while with the other he took the knife that the grinning Killer held out.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Motherfucker is laughing that I'm turning myself into a girl.</i> Mickey distracted himself with the thought, and with his secret pleasure at the same, as he put the knife into the water and felt for the girl's throat. It surprised him that she wasn't thrashing more. But neither had Skunk thrashed so much. Maybe it was the water. It was pulling at his skin again, like a blind, toothless animal gumming at him, trying to eat him.<br/>
<br/>
The edge of the blade found the girl's chin, and then her throat. Mickey drew it fast and deep across her neck. It bit deep, much deeper than he had intended.<br/>
<br/>
The top of her head collapsed under his hand. He grabbed at her hair, and it was like grabbing at a loose bag onto which fringes had been sown. He yanked his hands out in alarm, only just managed to keep hold of the knife.<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?" Randall asked, but Killer said, "Just finish it. Get undressed and finish it." Mickey shook as he peeled off his jeans and shirt, as he remembered the sensation of everything but the scalp and hair of the girl vanishing from within his grip. <br/>
<br/>
Then Skunk caught his eye as he was taking off his underwear, and he felt the thought flash between them.<br/>
<br/>
Finn knew what had happened. The same thing had happened when he slit open Skunk's throat.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever spirit was in the water had sucked out and swallowed the guts and bones and muscles of the girl, leaving only her skin.<br/>
<br/>
"You waiting for a push?" Killer said, and Mickey realized he was hesitating. Fuck you, he thought, and as Finn had done, he stepped to the edge of the pool, put one foot over it, and tipped himself in toes first.<br/>
<br/>
The water closed over him. Eagerly, it felt like.<br/>
<br/>
Mickey felt his skin leeching away, boiling off, and he opened his eyes and mouth to scream. The water pushed in, filling his lungs and stomach and arms and legs, like he was a hollow thing. It pushed his eyes back into his skull and brain, and he reeled, briefly into unconsciousness.<br/>
<br/>
And then he was at the surface, gasping for breath and putting his hand out to grab the pool's edge. He was coughing, and he felt limp all over as strong hands lifted him out and hefted him onto his weak and wobbling legs. He bent double, bracing his hands on his knees.<br/>
<br/>
He reached up to push the long, streaming hair from his face.<br/>
<br/>
And he paused.<br/>
<br/>
His hair. His long, streaming hair.<br/>
<br/>
He gripped it, squeezing the water from it, and he straightened up. A rippling strength ran through his arms and legs, and he felt himself whole again.<br/>
<br/>
He felt himself more than whole. He felt strong enough for two.<br/>
<br/>
"You got titties now," Killer growled. He openly smirked.<br/>
<br/>
Something went "click" in Mickey's head.<br/>
<br/>
"And they're real, too. Real nice," he said. His voice sounded strange in his ears—throaty and scratchy. He smiled an open-mouthed smile at Killer as he lifted a boob and pointed it at him. "Wanna touch it to make sure it feels real?"<br/>
<br/>
Killer's smile soured, and he took a step back.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, come on, guys!" Mickey laughed as he turned toward the others, who stood frozen nearby. "Don't you wanna have some fun? Randall?" he said, turning to the scrawny prisoner that Ironeyes had protected back at Woodson in exchange for blow jobs. "I know you wanted these more than I did," he said as he lifted both boobs and offered them. "But I can get you some almost as good.<br/>
<br/>
"Get skins good enough for all of us," he went on, his eye roving over the other four. "I know where there's exactly enough to go 'round!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wake late (it's Saturday, so it's okay) and find that you went to sleep still wearing the metal band. Maybe that's why it takes you twice as long to clear your head.<br/>
<br/>
After showering and dressing, you check stories.com and are excited to see a longish note on Chapter 7 from TheSoulWringer, one of the more thoughtful commenters in that forum:<br/>
<br/>
<i>Interesting mechanic and way it ties in with skinwalker myth. Were is story set? Island name sounds like Michigan or thereabouts, so Navajo myth seems out of place. But whatever, will be tracking story to see where it goes.</i><br/>
<br/>
You reply with a nervous <i>Lol didn't think about that.</i> Since you've got the rest of the day free, you buckle down to write a couple of more chapters.<span class="fngigffkgfj3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 111111221211111111
author_id: seuzz
id: QDWTMDJ3K
title: Party of Five, Chapter 8
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>TANYA LAID HER BOOK ASIDE AND LOOKED AT THE CLOCK. It was nearly nine. Though it was early, she was giving serious thought to going to sleep.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, she heaved herself off the bed and went out to the hall. The bathroom door was closed, so she went into the living room. Alfie, stripped down to striped boxers and a wife-beater, was stretched out on a sofa with his cell phone, while Doug was hunched over the laptop with a look of concentration. "Where's Susie?" Tanya asked.<br/>
<br/>
"I 'unno," Alfie muttered without looking up.<br/>
<br/>
"I think she's in the bathroom," Doug said.<br/>
<br/>
"Where's Scarlett?"<br/>
<br/>
No one said anything. A moment later, Alfie looked up and around.<br/>
<br/>
"Is she back in the bedroom?" he asked.<br/>
<br/>
"Not in the one I'm in."<br/>
<br/>
"She's bunking with Susie in the master, isn't she?" Doug said.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya went back to look. Alfie was sitting up on the edge of the sofa when she back in, shaking her head.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll look outside," he said and sprang to his feet.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you wanna get dressed first?" Tanya asked, but Alfie just gave her a look before going out the front door. There was hardly enough fabric stretched over him to hide anything except his bulging biceps and forearms, his brawny shoulders and pecs, his muscular thighs and calves.<br/>
<br/>
"He's going to get eaten alive by skeeters," Tanya said to Doug, but he was absorbed in the laptop screen and didn't seem to hear her.<br/>
<br/>
"She's not out on the deck," Alfie said a moment later when he came back in. He rummaged inside his workout bag long enough to pull out some flip-flops. "I'll go look on the road."<br/>
<br/>
"You're gonna need a flashli— Oh." Alfie shot her a small, wry smile as he pulled a giant flashlight from his kit and turned back for the door. A few minutes later Tanya heard him calling Scarlett's name. He repeated it a few more times, his voice getting fainter as he wandered farther away.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya was beginning to feel seriously alarmed long before the front door finally swung open again, and a grim-faced Alfie came back in. He had Scarlett by the elbow. She was smiling that open-mouthed grin she always got when she'd been bad and had enjoyed it. "Hey kids," she said, and her eyes flashed merrily. "I'm back!"<br/>
<br/>
"Where've you been?" Tanya demanded. She glanced behind at a sound, to find Susie, in her nightgown, coming out of the back with a frown.<br/>
<br/>
"Around," Scarlett said. "I went for a walk and ran into some guys, went back and almost stayed to party with them. Grump," she jeered at Alfie as he stalked into the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
"You shouldn't have gone out without telling anyone," Tanya said. "We were worried!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, mother." Scarlett rolled her eyes and brushed past. "Come on," she said to Susie as she tucked her arm in hers. "I gotta tell you about them. Especially his one who is just perfect for you!" They went into the master bedroom and closed the door.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya looked at Doug. "Is that your bag on the other bed in the bedroom?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes?" he said uncertainly.<br/>
<br/>
"So we're sharing that room? Well, I'm going to bed now. Give me twenty minutes to brush my teeth and get ready before you come blundering in with your clothes off." She turned and stormed down the hallway.<br/>
<br/>
Doug shrank up inside himself. Susie was fighting with Alfie, now Alfie and Tanya were pissed at Scarlett, Tanya was yelling at him ... It was just getting worse and worse. None of the girls really liked him, he thought. They only tolerated him because of his friendship with Alfie. So if Alfie got cross with him ...<br/>
<br/>
Alfie came back out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice, which he drained in one long gulp while glaring at the wall. "Where did you find Scarlett?" Doug timidly asked.<br/>
<br/>
Alfie pointed with the glass, and belched. "Coming back down the road. Bitch. She thinks it's all a party, that anyone she runs into—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who were these guys she ran into?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck if I know. All she said was she ran into some older guys, went back to their house with them, had a beer, and would'a stayed the night with 'em, 'so you and Susie could knock bootie in the master bed'," he said, his voice pinched with sarcasm and anger, "but she forgot her phone." He looked into the glass, seemed surprised to see it was empty. "I should lock her in, or she'll try sneaking out."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she came back."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie glowered at Doug. Then he suddenly seemed to see him. He came over to lean close.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," he said in a low voice. "I want you to stick close to Scarlett all the time we're up here, okay? Especially if she goes out. Like, if it looks like she's going back up to hang out with those guys or whoever. And if she does say she's going to go see them, go with her."<br/>
<br/>
Doug's eyes widened. "You think they could be, like, dangerous?"<br/>
<br/>
Alfie stared, then snorted.<br/>
<br/>
"No," he said, straightening up. "Scarlett wouldn't mind that. She'd turn a prison gang-rape into a threesome. But we don't wanna give her a chance, okay? Because of Brad," he emphasized. "Right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right," Doug said in a small voice. He hung his head as Alfie went back into the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Was Alfie serious?</i> he wondered. He knew how Scarlett always acted, of course: Flirty and sex obsessed. But so far as Doug knew, Scarlett had always been faithful to Brad. Sure, she sometimes got physical with some of Brad's friends, like she had with Alfie at the computer. She'd rub herself against them, hang her arms off them, sometimes nuzzle them at the throat and say things like, <i>It's too bad I'm going with Brad, 'cos if I wasn't, you and me could go off and ...</i><br/>
<br/>
Doug made a face, then quickly turned away as Alfie came back into the living room, turning off the kitchen light as he came.<br/>
<br/>
Doug had always assumed that Scarlett's flirtations were just a way of proving how faithful she was to Brad. Like, message: <i>I can do this with your friends because we all know and trust each other.</i> But was Alfie saying that Scarlett was sometimes ... serious? ... when she acted like this? That she was really feeling up Brad's friends because she wanted to ... and sometimes did ... sleep with them?<br/>
<br/>
He fervently hoped that's not what it meant. And not only for the sake of Brad and his friendship with those other guys.<br/>
<br/>
No, it was mostly because Scarlett had never done that kind of thing with him. <br/>
<br/>
Like, if she fake-flirted with everyone except him, that was one thing. It just meant she didn't want to fake-flirt with him. It would be like not wanting to play checkers with him.<br/>
<br/>
But if she seriously-flirted with everyone but him, and sometimes went farther with the guys she did seriously flirt with ... Well, what that meant was just so much more humiliating!<br/>
<br/>
He went into the bathroom to splash some cold water over his face.<br/>
<br/>
Alfie flopped back onto the sofa and picked his phone up again, and scrolled back to the web page he had been looking at before. But he was distracted, and the girl with the melon-sized knockers hardly registered in his consciousness as he brooded over Scarlett.<br/>
<br/>
She was always trouble, but small-scale trouble. Hardly more than an irritation. When she got to be too much, you could turn your back on her and let her bother someone else. But on this trip ...<br/>
<br/>
He had gone down the road, back toward the ferry, to look for her, on the theory that a girl as lazy as Scarlett wouldn't want to start a nighttime walk by hiking uphill, and he had gone around two switchbacks before deciding he had guessed wrong, and hiked back the way he'd come. Then he went on, back the way he himself had gone before. It scared him to have to go that way, not because he was worried about running into that migrant motherfucker, but because he was scared that Scarlett had run into him. He'd felt his hands and the muscles in his arms and chest twitching and working as he thought of Scarlett, dragged off into the bushes. His "joke" about Scarlett turning a gang-rape into an orgy notwithstanding, the thought of Scarlett being taken that way filled Alfie with fear and rage.<br/>
<br/>
So when he'd heard something large and clumsy breaking its way down the hillside, he'd stopped and listened, and only when it was very close did he cautiously call Scarlett's name. No one had answered, and they had paused, and Alfie, his fists bunched, had swung off the road to meet them when they resumed their slide down the hillside. Scarlett had squawked when she came out from behind a tree and nearly fallen into Alfie's arms.<br/>
<br/>
And then she'd laughed! He was scared out of his wits, but she'd only laughed, and told him a story about meeting some guys and having a beer. He'd grabbed her arm and nearly wrenched it off her, but she'd only laughed and complimented him on being so strong. A froth of anger filled his mouth as he hauled back down the road to the cabin. She'd prattled and demanded to know what he was being such a bastard for; he'd barely choked out that he and the others had been worried sick about her. He'd come real close to telling her the gravity of the situation by mentioning the creep he'd spotted earlier, but had held his tongue.<br/>
<br/>
Preoccupied with his slow-draining anger, Alfie only stared through his phone, and jerked a little with surprise when Doug finally told him that he was going to bed. He brushed his teeth and put out the lights and crawled under the quilt he'd spread over the sofa.<br/>
<br/>
Then he got up to make sure the doors were all locked.<br/>
<br/>
He lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling while clenching his phone. Almost half an hour passed before sleep stole over him. He was still cold with anger about Scarlett's carelessness. But he slowly recognized that a different anger was surfacing as the other was receding, like a rock exposed by the retreating tide.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett and Susie were sharing a bed. And he couldn't help but obsess at the thought of what they could be doing with each other under the covers.<span class="meklfklmf259"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1111112212111111111
author_id: seuzz
id: SBDR7PKQ4
title: Party of Five, Chapter 9
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>SUSIE WAS SLOW TO WAKE, and it took her awhile to realize that a pair of arms were wrapped about her torso in a loose embrace. It took her even longer to realize where she was, and whose arms they were.<br/>
<br/>
She rolled over and accidentally knocked Scarlett in the face with her elbow. The other girl flinched and muttered something that sounded like a cuss word, then turned over and hunched up the covers. Susie stared down at her, then struggled off the bed and went to the bedroom door. There were sounds from the front of the cabin, but the bathroom, blessedly, was free.<br/>
<br/>
The smell of frying bacon greeted her when she came back out, soaped and showered with her wet hair drip-drying down her back. She ducked into the bedroom, to find rumpled sheets where Scarlett had been. She changed into fresh underthings and a fresh set of pajama bottoms and t-shirt.<br/>
<br/>
Everyone was in the kitchen when she joined them. Scarlett was still in her old pajamas, but her hair was brushed out, and she greeted Susie with a happy and alert smile. The others were dressed and Tanya had showered, but the boys were still in yesterday's clothes. Alfie slid a couple of strips of bacon and two fried eggs onto Susie's plate as she sat down at the little kitchenette table. But Scarlett was the only one with a plate in front of her, so Susie guessed the others had already eaten as well.<br/>
<br/>
"Sleepyhead," Scarlett said with a giggle. "We were up all night, practically," she said to the others. "I can't speak for Susie, but I'm exhausted!"<br/>
<br/>
Susie ignored her. "Don't we have any grapefruit or health cereal?" She stared critically at the eggs and bacon, which looked like fat and chemicals to her.<br/>
<br/>
"We have to go back to the mainland, to the store, to get supplies like that," Alfie said.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you said the kitchen was going to be stocked!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, not with stuff like that. Only with—" Alfie indicated Susie's plate. "If you want to have an early lunch, there's some bread and deli slices for a sandwich—"<br/>
<br/>
"Ugh. Lemme get dressed, and then we'll go shopping." She poked an egg with her fork. The whites were runny, and the yolk, in her imagination, was swimming with salmonella.<br/>
<br/>
"Susie," Scarlett said. She reached across to squeeze Susie's wrist. "Don't you remember what we were talking about last night? The caves!"<br/>
<br/>
"What caves?" Susie picked up a slice of bacon and forced herself to nibble at it.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett's eyes rolled as she glanced around the kitchen at the others. Alfie was still standing at Susie's shoulder with the skillet and spatula. Tanya was washing up other dishes. Doug was daydreaming while staring out the kitchen window.<br/>
<br/>
"Those guys I hung out with last night?" Scarlett said. "They told me there's some caves up on the hillside not too far from here. I want to go check them out. Like, this morning." With her fork she picked up a little of Susie's egg and made a meal of licking it off the tines.<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds interesting," Alfie said in a tone of voice that suggested the opposite. "But we should go into town—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yych, I'm not going into some smelly cave," Tanya said as she dropped a sudsy plate into the empty sink and sprayed some water over it. "They're probably full of bats."<br/>
<br/>
"But it's something to do!" Scarlett protested.<br/>
<br/>
"There's lots we can do," Alfie said as he turned back to the sink. "That's why we came up here. Swimming and canoeing and sunbathing. Like, I gotta start working on my tan, I can't do that in a cave! I also think there's also volleyball pit or something down near the ferry, we could stop and play a game on our way back."<br/>
<br/>
"Doug?" Scarlett said.<br/>
<br/>
Retrieving his attention from a million miles away, he said, "I get claustrophobia."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's an idea," Scarlett said. "They don't sound as bad as you guys are making them out, and the guys said something about a hot spring—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who are these guys?" Tanya asked.<br/>
<br/>
"Just some guys. I think you'd have fun with them, Tanya." She giggled. "Everyone else here is kind of spoken for, you know."<br/>
<br/>
Susie had been listening to all this in kind of an angry stupor, but now she stretched her foot and kicked Scarlett under the table.<br/>
<br/>
"Ooh, I've been signaled!" Scarlett said. She laughed and got to her feet. "Come tell me what's on your mind," she said as she trailed a finger over Susie's shoulder, "while I get cleaned up."<br/>
<br/>
Susie glowered at Alfie from under her lowered brow as she got up to follow. "We're going shopping," she told him in a low but hot voice. "Doug can drive if you need to stay and work on your tan." She turned down the hallway as Alfie flushed.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett was slowly peeling off her clothes when Susie caught up to her in the bedroom. She was almost making a striptease of it, flapping her flannel top out after unbuttoning, and smiling kittenishly over her shoulder at Susie as she twisted her bra around to unhook it. "What did I say now?" she asked Susie with a low, crackling fry in her voice.<br/>
<br/>
Susie pushed the door closed behind her.<br/>
<br/>
"First of all, what the hell was that crack about us being 'exhausted' from last night?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say we were, Susie, I said I am. And I am!"<br/>
<br/>
"I know what you were trying to say! What you were trying to make them think!"<br/>
<br/>
"Did I get it across, do you think?" Scarlett bent over, almost putting her face to her knees as she pushed her flannel pajama bottoms down, exposing the backside of a silk thong to Susie. "Or was I too subtle?" she asked from this nearly upside-down position.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want them thinking that!"<br/>
<br/>
"Why not? And you can hardly stop them," Scarlett drawled. She straightened up and kicked her bottoms of. "Alfie was thinking it all night long!"<br/>
<br/>
"No he wasn't!"<br/>
<br/>
"Please! When a guy isn't fantasizing about doing it with a girl, he's fantasizing about another girl doing it with her. Kind of like the way I fantasize about Alfie and Dougie doing it when I have the itch for kink."<br/>
<br/>
"You what?" Susie felt herself nearly coming unglued.<br/>
<br/>
"Alfie and Dougie! It's just waiting to happen, you know. Of course, there will have to be girl in there with them, 'cos they're not going to just come out and do anything gay. Could be you who breaks the ice between them, Susie. Would you do a three-way with Alfie and Dougie? And when you got tired you could crawl off to rest and leave the boys to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, for God's sake! Where do you get this stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
"I keep my eyes open."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm not—! And Alfie's not—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Would you get in their way?"<br/>
<br/>
Susie spun for the door, but caught her temper before it could fly off completely, and spun again to make a complete pirouette.<br/>
<br/>
"And the second thing," she said more calmly, for it was clear to her that there was no point in trying to argue with Scarlett, because she was just trying to get Susie to get her wind up. "The second thing is, what was that crack about everyone else being paired off or something except for Tanya?" That seemed to Susie a much better way to tackle the real issue, which was the way that Scarlett seemed to be trying to toss Tanya, like a lamb chop, to a pack of horny guys probably ten years older than her.<br/>
<br/>
"Just another observation," Scarlett said. She had twitched off her panties and was pulling a new pair on. "There's you and Alfie paired off, and I just said that Alfie and Dougie could, you know. Me, I think I'm going to be seeing more of those guys I met last night. They're a lot more fun than—"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, keep Tanya away from them! Jesus! She's barely seventeen!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's old enough. I was sixteen when—"<br/>
<br/>
"Not with a guy who's thirty!"<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett gave her a look.<br/>
<br/>
"Who'd be better for her," she asked. "One of Alfie's friends?" She clucked her tongue. "A guy who's thirty could be a lot better for her. More mature, more serious, more grounded."<br/>
<br/>
Susie grabbed her own head by the temples. "I can't believe I—!"<br/>
<br/>
She was interrupted by a shrill laugh from Scarlett.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Susie!" she gasped. "If only you could see your face!" Her own was flushed with mirth.<br/>
<br/>
Clad only in a tight thong, with her breasts exposed, Scarlett came around the other side of the bed to put an arm around Susie and pull her close.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," she said. "You need to learn to laugh at things, Susie! And you know, I was saying all those things in front of the others just to, you know, get Alfie going. He needs a kick in the ass!"<br/>
<br/>
Susie grumbled a low cuss word to herself, but suffered Scarlett to lightly paw her.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen, you tell Alfie that he and the others can go shopping in town. You and me are going to wander around the island. Maybe look inside those caves, see if they're something worth checking out. I did some work on him last night, Susie, before I went out. I think he's just about ready to—" She trailed off with a smile.<br/>
<br/>
"To what?" Susie asked. There were a lot of things that Alfie might be persuaded to do, not all of them things that Susie was eager to join him in.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you think?" Scarlett put her arm around Susie's shoulder and pulled her close. Into her ear, she whispered, "There's just the tiniest difference between a guy going crazy, and his going crazy for a girl. Just give me two minutes to talk to Tanya, to tell her what to say and do while you and me are off exploring, and then I think we'll have him crazy for <i>you.</i><br/>
<br/>
"And <i>then,</i>" she added, "there won't be any sexting or 'side dishes'"<br/>
<br/>
Susie felt herself quiver all over, and it wasn't from the soft kiss that Scarlett pressed against her ear.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's a comment for Chapter 6 when you check during a writing break: <i>These people seem kind of awful.</i><br/>
<br/>
Well, yes, you'd agree. They're going to get what they deserve, and you hunch back over your laptop to start giving it to them.<span class="fngigffkfmh3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11111122121111111111
author_id: seuzz
id: UQL8T3MF6
title: Party of Five, Chapter 10
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>IRONEYES CROUCHED IN THE HILLSIDE BRUSH and peered through the leaves and branches. It was almost ten o'clock, but no one left the cabin yet.<br/>
<br/>
Mickey had told them where it was, and Ironeyes, having woken early and feeling restless, had slipped from the caves and gone down to confirm for himself. Besides, he didn't put it past Mickey to try escaping alone, in his new identity, without the others.<br/>
<br/>
For four hours, since just after sunrise, he had watched the cabin. Only once had someone come out: a muscular, blonde kid, dressed only in pajama bottoms. That had been the wrestler Mickey told them about, Ironeyes figured. Mickey, while pulling on the clothes that went with his new skin, had told the rest of them a little about the people whose skins and faces they were going to steal. They were high school kids, four of them seniors (which was good; Ironeyes hadn't liked high school, and didn't want to spend any more time inside it than was absolutely necessary), all of them except for one "dweeb" in the bunch being popular and good looking. Three were girls, two of them (not the one whose skin he had taken) being sisters. Of the guys, one was the dweeb while the other was a wrestler trying like crazy to get his raging boner up inside the older of the sisters—getting him and the girl into bed together, in fact, had been the main reason these five had come out to the island for spring break.<br/>
<br/>
Anyway, there were five inside the cabin, same as there were five inside the cave. If they could get their skins—and Mickey was laughingly confident they could—they could drive off the island right past all the roadblocks, and slip easily and invisibly into some very comfortable lives.<br/>
<br/>
Not that Ironeyes had any regrets about the life he was aiming to shuck off. It had been a good life, up until the moment he'd hit that old man during a convenience store robbery, and got sent to the Woodson Super-Max facility for second-degree murder.<br/>
<br/>
Up until then, for twenty-two of his thirty-eight years, he'd had fun—"fun" being the kind of thing he'd settle for if it meant he got to indulge his fundamental laziness. So after he'd given up on "ambition" because that meant a boring-ass job with an education and training, he'd settled for stickups and living mostly out of his car, interrupted by the occasional manual job. He'd flitted around the country, one step ahead of local law who, once a trail cooled, turned their attention elsewhere. He'd sleep with hookers (and a few women who weren't hookers) when he needed to get it off, and once came real close to getting married before a creeping restlessness helped him beat the temptation.<br/>
<br/>
And he was quick and hard-hitting in a fight, so that no one ever called him by his given names—Francis Marion—but only by his last. Which fit him because he had eyes the color of steel plate.<br/>
<br/>
The sun was starting to ride high in the sky when the slap of a wooden door snapped Ironeyes out of a reverie. The wrestler had come back out, but this time dressed in jeans, a red t-shirt, and a blue, long-sleeve shirt unbuttoned and flapping loose. He was followed by ... Well, that could only be the "dweeb": a scrawnier kid in khakis and olive-green shirt rolled up to the elbows but buttoned to the collar. He wore heavy-framed glasses and a greenish-brown, tweed flat cap.<br/>
<br/>
The dweeb paused at bottom of the porch stairs as the wrestler charged on ahead toward the SUV, waiting and looking back for ...<br/>
<br/>
Oh my God! Ironeyes almost broke cover and rose to his feet when she came out.<br/>
<br/>
She was lithe, with small but visible breasts under a gray t-shirt, and an ass that filled the back of her jeans without blowing them out. Her legs were tapering. But it was the face and hair of the girl that made Ironeyes gulp.<br/>
<br/>
Most of her face was hidden behind a pair of slanty glasses that slid halfway down her pert nose. Her mouth and jaw were small. But somehow they all came together to give her a foxy appearance. "Sexy librarian," Ironeyes thought with an excited growl as she pushed her glasses up her nose. The whole "fox" look could only be confirmed if she'd had a bushy tail sprouting and swishing from the back of her jeans. But she had managed it in another way, by tying her long, tawny brown hair (save for the feathery bangs that framed her face) back into a sporty ponytail that bobbed high on the back of her head before drooping to touch the base of her neck with its tips.<br/>
<br/>
Ironeyes chewed on his thumbnail and felt his eyes watering as this girl climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV and belted herself in, and he stared after the SUV after it backed out of the driveway into the street, and drove off in the direction of the cove.<br/>
<br/>
Mickey was wearing the skin of the girl who didn't have a sister, so that had to have been one of the sisters. (Yes, after an effort, he confirmed that the logic checked out.) But which sister? The one the wrestler was trying to bang? That would make sense, given that she'd driven off with him (and the dweeb). Or was that the younger one?<br/>
<br/>
He'd have to find out. He'd have to find out which one she was, and if she had a boyfriend with her. That was the skin he had to have—her boyfriend's—and he'd kill anyone, even Diller, to get it. The thought of shoving his hard and throbbing shaft deep into the loam of that girl's body left Ironeyes gnawing his fist with furious anticipation.<br/>
<br/>
It was in this attitude that Randall found him, and Randall found him only because Ironeyes was so preoccupied that Randall was upon him before he could flee. As it was, Ironeyes was rising in alarm when Randall, skittering through the bracken, came upon him. The two escaped convicts stared at each other with bulging eyes, so shocked were they to have found each other and not islander or—worse—a cop.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you doing out here?" Randall hissed as he scrambled the rest of the way down the slope to where Ironeyes was crouched. "Everyone's out looking for you! Killer's—"<br/>
<br/>
"I came out to watch Mickey," Ironeyes growled back. "In case the fucker got any funny ideas about running off without us."<br/>
<br/>
"So we'd just find some other skins," Randall muttered. "Fuck these high schoolers he found us, I wouldn't mind you and me going one direction, and Killer and the others going another."<br/>
<br/>
"I know what direction I want to go in," Ironeyes said. "There's a girl in that cabin." He trailed off again as he thought of her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" Randall said.<br/>
<br/>
Ironeyes shot him a hard glare.<br/>
<br/>
"For you," he said. "Her skin," he went on, gulping around the words. "On you. And me—" He held Randall's eyes.<br/>
<br/>
The other's gaze fell.<br/>
<br/>
Then he winced slightly as Ironeyes gripped him by the arm.<br/>
<br/>
"You said you wanted us going off together," Ironeyes said. "So that's how we're going off together. You in her skin, and me in—" He wavered, then took the plunge. "Me in her boyfriend's."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," Randall said softly. "If that's what you want."<br/>
<br/>
"No, 'cos that's the way it's gonna fucking be." He stared hard at Randall even as the other looked past him through the bush at the cabin.<br/>
<br/>
Then Randall's hand shot out and grabbed Ironeyes's shoulder. "Is that her?"<br/>
<br/>
Ironeyes twisted around again, searching for the SUV. But it was two girls who had just come out of the cabin. Both were dressed in jean shorts and loose-fitting button-up shirts that were several sizes too large for them.<br/>
<br/>
<i>That one's Mickey,</i> Ironeyes thought to himself after the dark-haired girl had turned her face in his diretion. So the other one is the other sister. But the older sister, or the younger one?<br/>
<br/>
She was blonde, but not a golden blonde like the wrestler, but a dirty blonde with streaks of brown in her long, soft hair. Her face was more open, with larger features and bigger eyes than the foxy one who had left earlier. Her breasts were bigger too, and her hips wider. Ironeyes felt a dreadful premonition that this was the older sister, the one being chased by the wrestler. How much more convenient it would be if he was chasing the one that Ironeyes wanted!<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well, fuck it,</i> he decided after a moment's agonized wavering. Randall was going into the other girl's skin, he'd see to that, and he himself would claim the skin of the wrestler or the dweeb, he didn't care which, and inside that skin he and Randall would continue on the outside as they'd done inside Woodson. He needed to have that girl, and Randall—weak, yielding, frightened Randall—would fit inside her like a hand inside a glove.<br/>
<br/>
"Looks like they're heading for the cave," Randall whispered in Ironeyes's ear as the dark-haired girl pointed toward a trailhead that led up the slope of the hill. The two men ducked and did their best to bury themselves inside the bushes as the girls passed close by. Then, when the girls' voices had faded, the two men rose and hurried up the trail after. Once Mickey had the girl inside the mouth of the first cave, Ironeyes and Randall would make sure they couldn't come back out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's been almost a week since you started publishing "Party of Five," but Sean hasn't left any kind of comment yet. It makes you wonder, because Sean usually comments on the ones that he likes.<br/>
<br/>
So before going to bed, you give him a poke.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hey great as always,</i> you comment on his most recent ("Packed and Jacked"). <i>First time commenting and just wanted to say I love your stuff and you are inspriation to me start writing. Thanks for everything.</i><br/>
<br/>
If he's seen "Party of Five," maybe that will break the ice. If not, maybe it will push him into looking at it.<br/>
<span class="fmjggefefgi3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 111111221211111111111
author_id: seuzz
id: EP6HVMXL7
title: Party of Five, Chapter 11
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>There was nothing from Sean when you got up Sunday morning, but he's replied to your comment when you check after church: <i>Wow thanks but sorry I gave you writing virus lol,</i> he says. <i>I am enjoying your Party of Five story, the webcomic is favorite of mine, was thiking for long time of writing my own version of it but now you beat me!</i><br/>
<br/>
This reply excites you far more than you'd have guessed it could, and you have to take a quick run down the street and back to settle yourself. When you're at the computer again you reply with trembling hands: <i>Lol ooops sorry. You should write yours tho becos it'll be thousand times better than mine.</i><br/>
<br/>
You originally prefaced this comment with "Guess we think alike," but you delete it before hitting "Post." He has no way of knowing that you have a copy of his brain inside yours, but that's no reason to get cute with second meanings.<br/>
<br/>
You check back multiple times for replies from him while writing your next chapter ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
IT HAD TAKEN TANYA almost thirty minutes to work up the nerve to talk to Alfie about Susie, and they had been standing in the supermarket's cookie aisle for five minutes before she finally blurted it out. To her immense relief, Alfie took it graciously. In fact, he looked almost relieved.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll tell her that as soon as we get back," he told Tanya, then went back to trying to decide between regular Oreos and the golden vanilla variant. "Do you really think that'll help?"<br/>
<br/>
"Scarlett's working on her," Tanya said. "That's why she told me and Dougie to come with you, so she'd have a chance to talk to Susie."<br/>
<br/>
Now Alfie looked surprised, and a little irritated. He covered it, though, with a change of subject. "Don't call him 'Dougie', okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought that's what everyone called him."<br/>
<br/>
"That's what Scarlett calls him."<br/>
<br/>
Tanya shrugged. "Whatever," she said. "As long as I don't do it in front of him, right?"<br/>
<br/>
The total bill came to more than two hundred and fifty dollars when they checked out, which Alfie put on a credit card his folks had given him. After that, they drove around Saginac for a little while, looking at the old houses and neighborhoods. It was a small, quiet town of about eight thousand people (or so Doug reported after looking it up on his cell phone), and Alfie cynically suggested that they must have some real banger parties at the high school, because there'd never be anything else to ever do in a town that tiny.<br/>
<br/>
It was a little after noon when they got back to the cabin, which they found empty. Doug made them all some sandwiches, and Tanya reminded Alfie of what he needed to do when Susie got back. Then they settled in, Tanya with a book, Doug at the laptop, and Alfie on his phone.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya was still into her book, but Alfie was leaning over Doug's shoulder, watching a YouTube video that Doug wanted him to see, when they heard girls' voices outside. Tanya watched the front door nervously, hoping that (judging by the laughter) Scarlett had brought Susie around to forgiving Alfie, and that things would now calm down. She glanced back to see Alfie, still bent over Doug's shoulder, also watching the door with white, compressed lips.<br/>
<br/>
Then, after a long moment during which the voices fell away to silence, the door opened and Scarlett and Susie came inside.<br/>
<br/>
Both girls were dressed down to practically nothing, wearing bikini tops and jean cutoffs that barely covered the tops and bottoms of their hips. They bumped and stumbled and leaned against each other while holding hands, and Tanya briefly wondered if they were drunk. The impression that they were high on something was only reinforced when Scarlett flashed a sloppy peace symbol at the room.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, ya'll," Susie drawled and giggled. "We're back!"<br/>
<br/>
"How were the caves?" Tanya asked. She was very conscious of how stiffly she was sitting and holding her book.<br/>
<br/>
"So sweet!" Susie groaned. "We should all go up there tomorrow!"<br/>
<br/>
"No way," Doug said. "I told you, caves give me the willies."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not the way you're thinking," Susie said. "They're big and airy and cool. Oh, and we found that hot spring those guys were telling Scarlett about!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm still gonna skip," Doug said. "It'd be just my luck to run into the only bat in the place."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm with Dougie," Tanya said. "Count me out." Then she kicked herself mentally for slipping and calling him by Scarlett's nickname.<br/>
<br/>
"You guys are missing out," Scarlett sang as she sauntered on bare feet for the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Susie," Alfie called. He shuffled up to her when she turned. "I'm sorry for being such a jerk."<br/>
<br/>
"A jerk?" Susie asked, looking nonplussed.<br/>
<br/>
"You know." He shifted on his feet and looked up at her from under his brows. "Sexting with Carla," he said in a barely audible voice.<br/>
<br/>
Susie broke into a huge grin.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, no sweat, sweetie." She touched his lips with a fingertip. "I know that boys will be boys." With a lingering smile she followed Scarlett into the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
Alfie turned to Tanya, a look of alarm on his face.<br/>
<br/>
"It's okay," Tanya told him in a low voice. "You heard what she said."<br/>
<br/>
"But what does that mean, boys will be boys?" He shoved his hands through his mop of hair.<br/>
<br/>
"It means she gets it," Tanya said, but Alfie continued to look pale and skeptical. He could say nothing, though, as Susie came back out of the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
"Alfie, sweet," she cooed. "Did you get hot dogs at the store? I want hot dogs for supper."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't get hot dogs," he said. "I got hamburger meat—"<br/>
<br/>
"I want hot dogs," Susie groaned. "I wanna do a cookout. We could go up to the caves tonight and have a cookout, and we could cook hot dogs over—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think we're allowed to build outdoor fires," Doug said. "There's hazard warnings up on account of the drought."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, screw the hazard warnings, I want—"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't push it, Susie," Scarlett said as she came back out of the kitchen with a bottle of mineral water. "There's a brick grill out back, we can have a cookout there. But," she added, addressing Alfie, "Susie's in the mood for a hot dog. You know. A fat, long, juicy sausage she can wrap into her mouth and tongue and tonsils around—"<br/>
<br/>
Susie squealed and smacked Scarlett in the shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess I can go back to the store," Alfie said, unhappily. "Anything else we need?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll look," Scarlett said as Susie began rattling off hot dog condiments. Alfie left a few minutes later, with Doug for company.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya, her book still frozen in her hand, had watched all this with a feeling of trepidation, and it only grew as Scarlett tugged Susie down the hallway and into the bathroom. A moment later the shower water came on.<br/>
<br/>
This was all very strange.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya had hoped that Scarlett would get Susie to forgive Alfie, and it sounded like she had. And yet she couldn't help feeling that Alfie had a right to be edgy. Tanya knew her sister, and she knew that Susie was a fairly serious girl. Flirty, yes, and emotional. But she said what she meant, and unlike Scarlett she never veiled her reactions in sarcasm or innuendo. <i>Boys will be boys,</i> though, sounded like the kind of thing Scarlett would say, and it sounded like the kind of thing that could mean either "I forgive you" or "I will NEVER forgive you and will torture you forever about it."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well,</i> Tanya thought with a sigh, <i>maybe it sounds like Scarlett because it's what she told Susie to say.</i> Certainly, if taken at face value, it was Scarlett's own philosophy. From everything that Tanya had heard, "Boys will be boys" was why she tolerated Brad's little affairs.<br/>
<br/>
But she couldn't imagine Susie tolerating Alfie's "side dishes."<br/>
<br/>
In fact (she thought as she reflected further) it was exactly the wrong thing she should have said if Scarlett's little therapy session had gone the way it was supposed to. <i>She needs to make Alfie totally jealous and upset,</i> Scarlett had told Tanya. <i>She needs to make him so wild and angry that he'll want give up the "side dishes" to make her happy.</i><br/>
<br/>
That seemed pretty ambitious, but Tanya had lived up to the task Scarlett had given her, and had gotten Alfie to apologize, explicitly, for texting with Carla. But instead of nailing down that Alfie had been wrong to do that, Susie had said "Boys will be boys," which sounded like she was giving him permission to cheat. But Susie couldn't mean that.<br/>
<br/>
By now Tanya felt as alarmed as Alfie had looked. "Boys will be boys" to her now sounded not like forgiveness, but like the threat of a real storm to come.<br/>
<br/>
The water in the bathroom shut off, and Tanya listened. There was a murmur of indistinct voices after the door opened, and she heard footsteps going down the hall. Once she thought the girls were in the master bedroom, she crept quietly down to the other bedroom, where she stood in the doorway and listened.<br/>
<br/>
There was a rustled of feet and clothes from the other room, and Susie said something about "borrowing a bra and some of your panties," followed by a pause and then, "What's wrong?" and "How are you feeling?"<br/>
<br/>
"Better," Scarlett said, "but I can't stop itching. You?"<br/>
<br/>
"Same. I hope it isn't going to be like this from now on."<br/>
<br/>
"It was better for a little while, but it came back."<br/>
<br/>
"Skunk—"<br/>
<br/>
But then there were footsteps, and the door shut. Tanya went into her bedroom and very quietly shut her own door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
... but not until you publish it does a reply from Sean come through: <i>Haha no worries you just saving me the trouble.</i><br/>
<br/>
It puts a dopey grin on your face as you open a blank document to write another chapter.<span class="fmjggefeffk3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1111112212111111111111
author_id: seuzz
id: QPVBHNJ2S
title: Party of Five, Chapter 12
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>IT HAD BEEN A GOOD COOKOUT, and Alfie felt a lot better about things afterward. Susie had been relaxed and playful, and if she hadn't been flirtatious, exactly, she had acted like she usually did with him: fun and friendly, with sparkly glances in his direction. But neither had she gone overboard with any "hot dog" business once she got a hold of one. If she had made a big play of slowly swallowing it whole, or leered over it the way Scarlett had, Alfie would have resigned himself to another night on the sofa. But she just ate it normally and asked him to make her a second one, which he took warily as a good sign.<br/>
<br/>
And then later that night, after they had played a game of Risk (the cabin came stocked with a dozen or more old-fashioned board games) Susie had smiled at his athletic bag and asked him when he was going to move it into master bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
"Dougie gets the couch!" Scarlett sang out as she swung into the kitchen to microwave another bag of popcorn.<br/>
<br/>
So now here he was,  propped up in bed and stripped to his baby-blue briefs under the covers, waiting for Susie to come out of the bathroom and join him.<br/>
<br/>
He was pleasurably tense all over, and his legs kicked as he anticipated the night to come. He was engorged but not spilling over, for he foresaw a lot of very long and slow foreplay before sinking himself into Susie. That's the way it had been with Becca, and now he knew that Becca—not Emma or Riley or Inez or Carla or Barbara or Jasmine, or any of the others—was who Susie was aiming to take the place of. And that was fine with him, he wanted a safe harbor where he could dock anytime he wanted or needed it. He just hoped that Susie would be at least as tolerant as Becca had been, and that she wouldn't freak out when he looked at another girl.<br/>
<br/>
The water in the bathroom came on, and he allowed himself to feel a little irritated at how long it was taking Susie to get ready for bed. She didn't need to get herself all done up, he thought, like they were going out on a date. It was going to be just the two of them, in bed with the lights off most of the time, after all. Alfie had contented himself with brushing his teeth and spraying some deodorant all over himself. But, he then thought, if she was going to take a shower, and if she then sprinkled talcum all over herself, well ... Alfie stretched his arms and legs and grinned to himself. He liked talcum on a girl's bare skin.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever Scarlett had said to Susie this afternoon had worked, and had worked a lot better than he ever could have hoped. He felt like he knew Susie pretty well, and the way she'd come swinging into the cabin this afternoon, falling out of her clothes and giggling, had not been like her at all. Susie was the kind of girl who came to school in tweed skirts and crisp white tops—and neck ties—because even if she hadn't won the "class president" election last year, she was still the kind of girl who had in fact come in a close second in the election. So of course it had put him on edge when she came in acting like ... Well, acting like Scarlett. <br/>
<br/>
Alfie wondered now if maybe that's what Scarlett had told Susie, that she needed to act less like herself and more like her friend, if she was going to make it with him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Sure, Scarlett was very, um, affectionate, and she didn't act jealous, and that was something Alfie thought he could definitely appreciate. But if he was going to go out with Susie, then he wanted it to be Susie he was going out with, not Susie trying to act like someone else. If for no other reason, then because he didn't know how long Susie would be able to put on an act, and he didn't want to think about what would happen when she got tired of pretending, and finally wigged out on him. He rubbed his nose, and wondered how to tell her that he wanted her to be herself, and not some girl that she imagined he wanted.<br/>
<br/>
Preoccupied with these thoughts, he was not quite so plump when she surprised him by slinking into the bedroom. "I thought you were in the shower," he said, for the water was still running.<br/>
<br/>
"I was," Susie said. She was stripped to her panties, and wore a filmy, transparent top over her bra. "Then Scarlett came and got in, and I got out."<br/>
<br/>
Alfie had to wipe perspiration from his forehead, which was suddenly hot. <i>Scarlett and Susie showering together.</i> If things went right, maybe before the week was out he could talk them into letting him join them the next time they did that.<br/>
<br/>
He said nothing, though, but watched with greedy eyes as Susie reached up behind herself, struggled with the hooks for a bit, then let her bra drop off, revealing her breasts beneath the silky, transparent top. They were firm and plump, with great, rosy tips and bullet-like nipples. Susie smiled and clambered onto the bed, straddling Alfie between her knees, and she scooped up her breasts in two great handfuls and presented them to him. "What do you think?" she asked.<br/>
<br/>
"They're awesome," Alfie gulped. "Best I've ever seen."<br/>
<br/>
She giggled. "You're just saying that."<br/>
<br/>
"No, really." He reached out to take them in his own hands. They were warm, and he wanted to pull Susie toward him so he could take one, then the other, alternately, in his mouth. But that would mean letting go of them so he could pull her closer, and he wasn't ready yet to drop them.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh!" Susie said as she relaxed onto him, and Alfie grimaced as she pressed down on his cock. "I feel something down there!" Her breath came in quick pants. "Can I look at it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um ... Sure." Alfie frowned to himself, for he felt suddenly and strangely shy. He tried to keep hold of Susie's breasts, but had to drop his hands as she humped her way backward, pulling the sheet down from his chest until she had exposed his briefs. With a bright-eyed glance at him, she then peeled back the folds of the y-front until his cock came out in her hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God!" she groaned. "It's—! Can I touch it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," Alfie said, though she already was. He almost jumped, though, when she shuffled backward on the bed and bent her face over his lap. Her breath was warm upon his dick, and he tensed wonderingly until he felt her soft lips upon it, and then the prickle of her tongue running up the underside of the shaft. He caught his breath, and the small of his back lifted off the mattress.<br/>
<br/>
"I've never seen one that's circumcised," Susie said. "It's so ... clean!"<br/>
<br/>
"When did you ever see one that's—?" Alfie said before he could stop himself. He grinned sheepishly as Susie lifted her face to give him a look.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be that way, sweetie," she said as she crawled back up and lay atop him, squeezing her breasts between his chest and hers. "I said I've never seen one that's circumcised, that doesn't mean I've seen one that isn't. I mean, not in person. In pictures, online—"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I don't want details," Alfie said. He was starting feel like he needed to exert some control, and so he also threw his brawny arms around her, locking her against him. "Anyway, it's not like it matters."<br/>
<br/>
"Being circumcised?" Susie asked. "It's like— Well, when you're not circumcised, it's like having another skin over it, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno."<br/>
<br/>
"I think it must be like that. But I think I'm going to like it this way, without— Oh, you didn't bring any condoms with you, did you?" She pushed herself up.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, yeah." He started to struggle up. "They're—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want them," she said, and laid back atop him. "I want it to be just you, nothing between you and me. Oh, Alfie! Hurry! Get it up!" She sat up and tore off her top. "Get it up and get it inside me! I can't wait, I—!"<br/>
<br/>
The sun was up pretty high, and the sounds of breakfast outside had begun and ended, when Susie levered herself out of bed and went to the window, tearing the curtains back. She was naked, and Alfie, pleasantly exhausted from a night with little sleep, greedily drank in her bare ass and back.<br/>
<br/>
"What a great morning it's going to be," Susie said.<br/>
<br/>
He grinned. "You mean we're going to keep doing what we we've been doing?"<br/>
<br/>
Susie smiled back over her shoulder at him.<br/>
<br/>
"No," she said. "We're going to get up and go out and do something different. Something ... new! For both of us! It's first day of the rest of our lives, Alfie!"<br/>
<br/>
He slapped his thigh through the quilt and sheets. It had certainly been a night like no other, and if the days ahead brought half as much fun they'd be amazing. "Like what?" he asked.<br/>
<br/>
"Let me take you up to the caves!" she exclaimed, turning back to stare out the window.<br/>
<br/>
Alfie put his hands behind his head. That did not sound like fun. But after last night he felt plump and happy enough to indulge her in any whim she wanted.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," he said, "but I don't know what's so life-changing about these caves."<br/>
<br/>
She whirled, and for a moment he saw a startled look on her face. An expression almost of fear. For a moment it hung there, and he wondered what he had said to set her off.<br/>
<br/>
But she recovered herself with a tight smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it if I told you," she said. "Sweetie," she added, and thrust her bosom out at him, "let me take you there, and I'll bring you out a new man!"<span class="fngigffkfmm3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11111122121111111111111
author_id: seuzz
id: VTWHQZ7QB
title: Party of Five, Chapter 13
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>IT WAS A MISERABLE NIGHT FOR DOUG.<br/>
<br/>
It started with the sofa, which was soft and didn't give any back support. But it was quickly made worse by the noises from the master bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
There were, of course, the squeaks and groans of the bedsprings, clearly audible even though muffled by the walls. They were irregular at first, so that Doug was constantly surprised by a new one, or a new battery of them, just when he was starting to hope they had settled down and stopped.<br/>
<br/>
And then, after he was good and awake because he couldn't get comfortable, the noises became regular and rhythmic and mechanical. Skwunch-skwunch-skwunch-skwunch-SKWUNCH ... Pause. Skwunch-skwunch-skwunchskwunchkwunch ... Pause.-Skwunch-skwunch-skwunch-skwunch-SKWUNCH-skwunch-skwunch-skwunch ... SKWUNCH! Skwunchskwunchkwunchskwunchskwunchkwunch-skwunch!<br/>
<br/>
Then there were the voices. No words, just giggles and laughs and little shrieks. A whoop, quickly muffled. A door opening, some whispers, the door closing, some more laughter.<br/>
<br/>
The worst moment was when he heard Alfie go yip-yip-yip like a coyote, following it up with a soft, happy howl.<br/>
<br/>
Doug wondered what Tanya and Scarlett, in the bedroom across the hall, thought of it all. He imagined Scarlett describing to Tanya, in anatomical detail, everything that was happening in the master bedroom. And so he came to imagine and describe it to himself.<br/>
<br/>
When he finally passed out, he had his forearm draped over his eyes as tears of frustration and self-pity ran down his cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
He woke with a start when Scarlett and Tanya came out of the bedroom: light was streaming through the front windows. After forcing himself awake, Doug got up, pulled on his jeans (he'd slept in his shirt and underwear) and padded in to help Tanya start some breakfast. He was tempted to ask her if she'd heard the noises coming from Alfie and Susie's bedroom. But she said nothing, so he said nothing either.<br/>
<br/>
Neither did Scarlett say anything at breakfast, where it was just the three of them, unless her talk about some of the other wrestlers, and how they were likely passing spring break, was a veiled comment on how Alfie was now passing his. When Doug asked if there were any plans for the day, Scarlett said she was going to wait to see what Susie and Alfie had decided; in the meantime, she was going to sit out on the deck in her bathing suit and catch a little sun. "You could stand to get a little color too, Tanya," she said.<br/>
<br/>
She and Tanya then left him to clean up from breakfast. While he was doing that he heard Susie and Alfie come out and go into the bathroom, where they were a long time about it. He stood a very long time in the kitchen, leaning against the sink, staring unseeing into the murky dishwater and trying very hard not to resent Alfie and the sex he was finally scoring.<br/>
<br/>
<i>He deserves it,</i> he told himself, <i>a guy like Alfie. He's got all the right stuff. Good-looking, ripped with muscles, cheerful personality, a smooth and confident style. And he's a good guy, a really good guy! Some of the jocks back at the school were jerks and meatheads, but Alfie and Brad and them were smart and cool and not at all conceited.</i> Doug was lucky to have them as his friends (so he sincerely felt), because it wasn't luck at all. They liked him just as he liked them.<br/>
<br/>
He just wished they admired him as much as he admired them.<br/>
<br/>
He felt that admiration being dented, though, and he hated himself for it. Alfie had been so consumed, even obsessed, by Susie that he'd had no time for almost anything else. Or anyone else, Doug least of all. Even at the grocery store he had wandered off with Tanya, presumably—so Doug sensed—so he could talk with her about her sister. With Alfie one hundred percent focused on Susie, and Scarlett and Tanya having nothing to say to him, Doug felt not just like a third wheel, but like the third wheel to another set of third wheels. <br/>
<br/>
That had been bad enough. Now that Alfie had finally battered down Susie's resistance, he was bound to be a thousand percent focused on her. Loudly focused on her too. The trilling warble that rose over the rush of water in the bathroom told Doug that if Alfie and Susie were soaping each other down, they were using more than just their hands.<br/>
<br/>
Then, after they came out, Doug felt all his courage crumple. He couldn't stand the thought of facing them, at least not right away, and while they were in the bedroom he dove into the bathroom and took a very long shower of his own.<br/>
<br/>
All the bedroom doors were open when he reemerged, and after dressing in some khaki shorts, sandals, and a Hawaiian shirt thrown over a t-shirt, he searched the cabin and found it empty. He went out the front door and came around to the deck, where he found Scarlett and Tanya laying out on a couple of lawn chairs. Tanya was reading a book—vampire-romance novel; he'd asked her about it last night—but Scarlett was draped out on her chair and drinking in the sun. Neither took any notice of him.<br/>
<br/>
"Where'd you get the chairs?" he asked.<br/>
<br/>
"From the shed out back," Tanya said without looking up from her book.<br/>
<br/>
"There's a shed out back?" Doug asked, but Tanya said nothing. "Where's Alfie and Susie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Out taking a walk."<br/>
<br/>
"They gonna go check out those caves everyone's so jacked about?" He glanced over at Scarlett, but she said nothing while Tanya only answered with a grunt.<br/>
<br/>
"I can't believe they're talking and hanging out again," Doug went on. He was aware that he was prattling, filling a silence that seemed to bother only him, and probably irritating the other two, but he couldn't help it. "She was so mad at him until yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"Scarlett had a talk with her," Tanya said, her eyes still on her book.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right," Scarlett said. She had been lying so still that Doug was wondering if she was asleep. "I just told her that a man has his needs. We all do."<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I always say," Doug said.<br/>
<br/>
And as soon as he said it, he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He had only meant to express his agreement with Scarlett, but it had come out sounding gross and needy.<br/>
<br/>
The silence that followed was bad enough. But then Scarlett made it infinitely worse.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I can help you with your needs, Dougie," she said, still unmoving in her chair. "I can be very helpful with that kind of thing."<br/>
<br/>
Doug's jaw slackened, and he felt his face burning. His blush deepened when he saw Tanya turn toward Scarlett.<br/>
<br/>
"We all have our needs," Scarlett went on. "For instance, right now, I really need a mojito." Her lips twitched into a faint smile. <br/>
<br/>
"Coming right up," Doug stammered before he quite knew it, and he ran back into the house.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck fuck fuck dammit fuck!</i> he cussed to himself as he stood trembling in the kitchen. <i>God, why am I so stupid?</i> He looked at the stove, wondered briefly how long it would take to kill himself if he put his head in the oven, then remembered that it was an electric range.<br/>
<br/>
<i>I shouldn't have even gone out there,</i> he told himself. <i>I should have stayed inside, done some gaming on the laptop. They don't want me out there.</i><br/>
<br/>
He took his glasses off and rubbed his face all over until the urge to weep had passed.<br/>
<br/>
Well, he had to face her again, and he might as well get it over with, he told himself. She had asked for a mojito—a drink much favored by the gang, and Alfie had made a point of bringing a bottle of rum with them—and it would be rude if he didn't make one for her. But his hands shook the whole time.<br/>
<br/>
He was carrying it out—on a little tray, even—and had just stepped up to the deck when Scarlett's voice burst out in a loud cry.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Dougie!" she groaned. "Dougie! Right there, yes, right there!"<br/>
<br/>
He froze and stared, uncomprehending. Scarlett had her legs spread wide, with one hand resting on a half-exposed boob. She didn't seem to be talking to him, even though she was calling his name. He wondered what she was going on about.<br/>
<br/>
Then he saw that her other hand had slid down the front of her bikini bottom. "Oh, Dougie, right there, Dougie, ooh! Oh God it's so big, and I need it, I'm gonna— I'm gonna—!"<br/>
<br/>
The tray fell from Doug's numb hand, and the glass shattered on the edge of the deck. Both Tanya and Scarlett leapt up to stare at him.<br/>
<br/>
Then—as his face burned—they both burst out laughing.<br/>
<br/>
Before he could run away, a stern, dry voice sounded behind him.<br/>
<br/>
"Excuse me, I hope we're not interrupting anything."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's suppertime when you publish this chapter, but you've got a lot of energy in you still, and after gobbling down your dinner you bolt back upstairs to get to work. The next chapter is one you're eager to get to: it's one you know that Sean will be pretty excited to see.<br/>
<br/>
That's because it will be the one where Alfie gets replaced. Sean is into MtM, and this will be the first MtM involving the main characters. Also, Alfie is the kind of character—strong, handsome, popular—that Sean likes to use in his own stories; in fact, Alfie is one of the reasons Sean likes the original webcomic so much. He will be keen to see how you handle it.<br/>
<br/>
And because you've got Sean lodged, like a sliver, inside your own brain, you are too.<span class="fnhfmnfeegej3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 111111221211111111111111
author_id: seuzz
id: WHMLY7F8C
title: Party of Five, Chapter 14
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"WHERE'D YOU GET THE CHAIRS?"<br/>
<br/>
Tanya shifted her eyes from the book she was only half-reading. Doug had come out of the house and was now standing just behind her shoulder. She had been wondering where he'd got off to.<br/>
<br/>
If he'd driven off during the night, she wouldn't have blamed him. My God, the noises that Susie and Alfie were making! Tanya would have got up and banged on their door, only Scarlett was in the bedroom with her, and Scarlett was keeping her cool. But Scarlett had a boyfriend, and Tanya wasn't anything like ready to do any of the stuff that it sounded like Susie was doing, so she only minded that the noise was keeping her awake. But what poor Dougie—<i>Doug,</i> she reminded herself—must have gone through! It must have been hell!<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett had talked about him last night, as they were getting ready for bed. <i>Be careful with Dougie,</i> she'd said. <i>He's got the itch in his dick real bad. If you send any kind of signal his way at all, he's going to take it like an invitation. So, you know, be careful if you don't want him pushing up close and breathing all over your glasses.</i><br/>
<br/>
And then she got coy. <i>Do you like Dougie?</i> she kept asking. <i>He is cute, in a dweeby kind of way. At least he's got great legs. Don't you think his legs are sexy? It's from playing soccer when he was a freshman. You two'd go good together, I think, you'd go at about the same speed. Except you'd have to use mace on him to keep him from humping your leg all the time.</i><br/>
<br/>
So she'd filled Tanya's head with impressions of the junk that she said filled up Doug's head, so that as she listened to Alfie and Susie snap and yowl and play trampoline on the bed, she couldn't stop thinking about what it was like for Doug to deal with those noises.<br/>
<br/>
Well, maybe he was a sound sleeper.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya had done her best to be cool but friendly at breakfast, and she now tried to be the same now. <i>Where'd you get the chairs?</i> Doug asked, and she answered, "From the shed out back."<br/>
<br/>
"There's a shed out back?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God, it's going to be small talk isn't it?</i> Tanya thought. It was worse when Doug followed up with, "Where's Alfie and Susie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Out taking a walk."<br/>
<br/>
"They gonna go check out those caves everyone's so jacked about?" <br/>
<br/>
Tanya cringed and tried concentrating on her book.<br/>
<br/>
"I can't believe they're talking and hanging out again," Doug went on. "She was so mad at him until yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"Scarlett had a talk with her."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right," Scarlett said from the other lawn chair. "I just told her that a man has his needs. We all do."<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I always say," Doug said.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya was trying to tune him out—<i>Leave him to Scarlett,</i> she thought—so his words didn't really register until Scarlett said, "Maybe I can help you with your needs, Dougie. I can be very helpful with that kind of thing."<br/>
<br/>
Tanya felt her hackles go up. She turned toward Scarlett.<br/>
<br/>
"We all have our needs," Scarlett went on. "For instance, right now, I really need a mojito." Her lips twitched into a faint smile. <br/>
<br/>
"Coming right up," Doug stammered, and then he was gone.<br/>
<br/>
"You shouldn't tease him like that," Tanya hissed at Scarlett. <i>Not if you were serious last night about what he's going through!</i> she silently added.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett smirked.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be jealous, Tanya," she said. "I can help you with your needs too. You seem a little tight."<br/>
<br/>
"Gaah! What is with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just trying to help. I helped Alfie and Susie out. I could help you out the same way."<br/>
<br/>
"With how?" Tanya sputtered.<br/>
<br/>
"You and Dougie?" Scarlett purred.<br/>
<br/>
"No!"<br/>
<br/>
"What about you and me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
"Then I guess," Scarlett sighed, "I'll just have to settle for Dougie."<br/>
<br/>
Tanya could hardly believe her ears. "You and Dougie? What about you and Brad?"<br/>
<br/>
"What about us?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um, aren't you going out together?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. But a girl can have a little fun, can't she?"<br/>
<br/>
"And he'd be okay with that?" Tanya tried not to shriek.<br/>
<br/>
Scarlett shifted her head to look at Tanya through her sunglasses.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm only talking about up here," she said. "This week. Brad got grounded, and Susie and Alfie are—" She finished the thought with a smirk. "So that leaves the rest of us kind of at loose ends, doesn't it?" She turned her face back to the sun. "Maybe the three of us—"<br/>
<br/>
"Count me out, Scarlett!"<br/>
<br/>
"Just me and Dougie, then. Don't think I haven't fantasized about it."<br/>
<br/>
Tanya's eyes widened.<br/>
<br/>
"I fantasized about it all last night, you know, while Susie and Alfie were— Only it was me and Dougie. Sometimes." Her lips twitched. "Sometimes it was you and me. But mostly me and Dougie."<br/>
<br/>
She lightly clasped one of her bosoms one hand, and plucked at the front of her bikini bottom with the other.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Dougie!" she groaned. "Oh Dougie! Yes, Dougie, you're the one for— Mmm!"<br/>
<br/>
Tanya's eyes bulged, and her breath came in short gasps, but she couldn't stop from staring. Nor could she speak. Scarlett writhed slowly on the lawn chair as she felt herself up.<br/>
<br/>
"Dougie!" she moaned. "Right there, yes, right there!" Her hand slid into the front of her bikini bottom, and began stroking herself. "Oh, Dougie, right there, Dougie, ooh! Oh God it's so big, and I need it, I'm gonna— I'm gonna—!"<br/>
<br/>
There was a sudden crash from behind, and Tanya spun. Doug was standing there, his mouth agape and his hands hanging limp at his side as he stared at Scarlett. A shattered glass lay at his feet.<br/>
<br/>
Shocked almost out of her mind, Tanya broke into a horrified laugh.<br/>
<br/>
Before she could recover herself, two figures in tan uniforms loomed up behind Doug. Their expressions were grim. "Excuse me," said the older of the two, a gray-haired man with a bristling mustache. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."<br/>
<br/>
Tanya sat up smartly as Doug spun toward them in surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"We're from the sheriff's office," the man went on. "Are you staying here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, for the week. Spring break," Doug stammered. "We— I mean, a friend of ours, his parents are friends with—"<br/>
<br/>
"You seen anyone strange hanging around?"<br/>
<br/>
"Strange?" Tanya squeaked. "Like how?"<br/>
<br/>
The deputy hesitated, then said, "I suppose you heard about the prison break last week."<br/>
<br/>
"No sir," Doug said. "I mean, yes, I saw headlines—"<br/>
<br/>
"We've had reports suggesting the fugitives may be hiding out on the island." The man's eyes shifted from Doug to Tanya and then to Scarlett. "You should think about cutting your spring break here short. These men are extremely dangerous."<br/>
<br/>
The deputy behind him—a much younger man with dark, short hair, a trim figure, and a lean face half-hidden by sunglasses—plucked a thin sheaf of photographs from his front pocket and passed them to Doug, who passed them to Tanya after palely studying them. She shuddered at the faces in the photos, especially the one with the scar that ate away half of his cheek.<br/>
<br/>
"If you see any of them, or anyone who looks like them, call the sheriff's office," the older deputy concluded as he took the photos back. "Though we are advising everyone to get off the island just to be safe."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes sir," Tanya said in a small voice. As the two deputies walked off, Tanya turned to Scarlett. To her surprise, the girl was relaxed on the lawn chair as though there'd been no interruption. "Did you hear what they said?" Tanya squeaked.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," Scarlett sniffed. "Killjoys." Then she said, "The quiet one was pretty cute, though."<br/>
<br/>
Tanya spun back to Doug. "What about Susie and Alfie?" she asked. "They're out— Oh my God, the caves! They're up at those caves, and that'd be, like, the perfect place for those convicts to hide out!"<br/>
<br/>
"Chill, Tanya," Scarlett said. "Susie and me explored those things from front to back yesterday, and there's no one in there."<br/>
<br/>
"But they could have—! Since yesterday—!" Tanya scrambled to her feet. "We have to go find them!"<br/>
<br/>
"Go find who?" a voice called from the other side of the deck. Tanya whirled, and even  Scarlett sat up. Alfie and Susie had crept up to the cabin from down the hillside. As Tanya gaped, Alfie lightly vaulted the railing, then helped Susie up and over as well. "Don't tell me you kids were worried about us," he said with a grin as he leaned casually against the railing, his brawny arms folded across his broad chest.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, thank gosh!" Tanya squealed. "You guys are safe! The cops were just by, there's some convicts loose on the island!"<br/>
<br/>
Alfie didn't react at first, except that the lines around his eyes twitched, and he shot Scarlett a quick glance. Then his grin widened.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah!" he laughed. "A couple of cops stopped me and Susie as we were coming back. Didn't they?" he asked Susie, who quickly nodded. "They sure seemed really worried about those guys and what they might get up to!"<br/>
<br/>
"They told us we should leave the island," Tanya continued. "Guys, I think we should go!"<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, Tanya it's a big island," Alfie said. He sauntered over. "And you got me and Doug to take care of you girls," he said as he leaned over her with a beguiling smile.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya had just time to take in the leering light in his eyes when Susie loomed behind him and locked an arm around his strong neck.<br/>
<br/>
"My little sis is a cutie, isn't she?" she said as she slowly wrestled Alfie away. "But come on, we have to go wash up. And we've got some ... unfinished business ... from back at the caves."<br/>
<br/>
It was like watching a small child try to wrestle a diesel locomotive as she pulled Alfie around the corner to the front door, and all the way he kept smiling back at Tanya with  a hungry look in his eye. When they were gone, Tanya felt herself shiver all over.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What is wrong with everyone today?</i> she wondered to herself.<span class="meklfklmf259"></span></span></div></div>


