Spirit Lake Ep. 1.33

Julie stood at the closed door that led into Brian’s room. It was the only room she hadn’t looked in yet, and she knew that she had to go in, but she just couldn’t bring herself to open the door.

She didn’t know what would be worse, finding the room empty, stripped of her younger brother’s memory, or finding it exactly has he had left it the day he died.

She turned the handle, slowly, and heard the bolt click. She stopped, her body tensing, and closed her eyes, then pushed the door open. She turned on the light and opened her eyes.

Everything was just as she remembered it. His bed, his dresser, there were even dirty clothes thrown on the floor. The only difference now was that everything was covered in a fine layer of dust.

She stepped in, covering her mouth. She could feel her nose twitching from inhaling the dusty air.

It looked like no one had stepped foot in the room for years.

She walked over to the bed and sat down, looking at the artifacts chronicling Brian’s short life. The trophies he had won for swimming and basketball lined his dresser, and faded posters of bands who had long stopped performing lined his walls.

Gently she took the blanket off of the unmade bed and brushed some dust off of it. She held it to her nose. Brian’s smell was gone. It all looked the same, but it lacked the life, the essence of her brother.

She started opening drawers, fishing under his bed, under the mattress, in his night stand. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she was pretty sure that what she was finding wasn’t it.

Other than a few dirty magazines and notes from friends, there was nothing.

She felt guilty disrupting the room, but she needed answers, and this place, this shrine to her dead brother, was the last place to look, at least as far as she knew.

She sat down at his small desk in the far corner of the room. His computer was still plugged in, but she was almost scared to turn it on. Who knew what kind of shape that thing was in.

She hit the power button, half expecting smoke and sparks to burst from the monitor, but instead she was greeted by a welcome screen, and a little bar telling her that the system was loaded.

After about five minutes the computer finally booted up. She grabbed the mouse and started clicking. At first she found nothing unusual. There was more porn, a few old term papers, and some music.

It wasn’t until she started going through some random files saved in his document folder that she found what she was looking for. It was a video file.

She double clicked on the little icon, and waited for the player to load. The video started playing, and she almost wished it hadn’t.

Brian was looking right in the camera, setting it up so that it was angled right on his bed. Then he got in, turned off the lights, and the screen switched to night vision. She started to fast forward.

At first Brian just looked into the camera, the filter making his eyes glow green, then finally he fell asleep.

Around the five minute mark she saw the bedroom door opening, and at first she couldn’t tell who it was, but when the figure sat down on the bed, she recognized the familiar face of her father.

He looked down at Brian, his hand stroking his son’s hair. Then he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small syringe. He gently pushed up the sleeve of Brian’s T-shirt, and stuck the needle into his son’s arm.

Julie’s hand went to her mouth. Her father had been steeling his own son’s blood.

When Charles was done he leaned down, kissed his son’s forehead, and left the room.

There was nothing else of interest after that, just Brian sleeping. Still, she couldn’t look away. It was one thing to see a picture of her brother, but it was another thing to see him moving, breathing, living.

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Right at that moment she missed her little brother.

Her fingers reached out, touching the screen, wishing the cold glass would be replaced by her brother’s skin. She wished she could reach out, hug him, tell him how much she missed him.

The video ended.

Julie stood, taking one last look around the room.

She suddenly felt her chest burning with anger. Her father, the respectable Charles Kramer, was even more of a monster than she had thought.

He hadn’t been upset because Brian died. He had been upset because he had lost his own personal blood bank.

She stormed out of the room, not bothering to close the door. She raced down the stairs, nearly falling twice, and out the front door.

She couldn’t get out of that house fast enough. Once she was in her car she felt lost. She didn’t know where to go.

Where did everyone else go in Spirit Lake?

The Hub.

So... about Spirit Lake

I just finished writing the last episode of Spirit Lake. The series is a week shorter than I had planned (it's only sixty episodes), but I'm happy with it. Obviously it isn't like Fashion Victims, with it's rather grissly violence and more overt sexuality. Still, the series means a lot to me.

Spirit Lake is losely based on a series of stories that I wrote when I was younger (probably around junior high). I always wanted to do something with them, but every time I tried they always stalled. The original stories were closer to a Friday the 13th film with the Claw (I know, very creative) coming after a bunch of stupid teenagers. Finally I abandoned the idea, but it stuck with me.

While I was working as a Production Assistant on the Patrick Swayze series The Beast I made a pact with myself that I would start writing again. So I pulled out those old stories and re-read them. They were awful. I mean, I'm not a great writer now, but I was really bad in junior high. So, I looked over what I liked, and decided to keep it. I liked the town, Spirit Lake, and I liked the little bit of history I had built up in the stories. Then I threw in my own personal wants, such as having a gay romance be a story point, and a healthy dose of Argento style, and what I ended up with is what you are reading right now.

Then, every night after I got back from set I would sit down and write. I kept this up for a while, but work on the show got more intense, and my writing time dwindled until I, again, abandoned the project. Then I started Fashion Victims...

Fashion Victims was a big deal for me. That was the first time in a long time that I finished one of my ideas, and I did it while working on and off on Nightmare on Elm Street (2009). I was tired, I was cranky, but I managed to pump out the first full season. Then I realized I needed something to fill up space on Sudz until I could think up ideas for season 2. Hence Spirit Lake gets dusted off and chopped up into episodes. Hence some of the really LONG episodes. I was cutting 20-30 page chapters into five weekly posts.

Fashion Victims was always something that I planned on putting on the blog. Spirit Lake was not. I wrote Fashion Victims with the idea that the series would be fairly tame, I didn't think like that when I wrote Spirit Lake. Spirit Lake was something I never really planned for anyone to read (and while I don't believe many are reading, I know a few are). Still, finishing this, writing the last episode is a big deal for me. I was able to take something that I had held onto for years and build it into something complete. While my Sudz experiment isn't a huge success, it's enough to make me happy. It's making me write, forcing me to work with deadlines (I kind of pressure myself to not miss a posting), and most of all, it's really made me love writing again.

It's also taught me to pace myself. I want to do a lot of things, hence announcements for series that have yet to even be written. I've kind of learned to take one thing at a time.

I know it isn't great, but for me, doing these two series has been one of the best experiments of my life.

So! On that sappy note, I should get going. Now I have to buckle down and finally start writing season 2 of Fashion Victims. It is happening! Basically what I had planned for Raw is going to just get thrown into Season 2. Wish me luck... Cuz I'll need it.

Spirit Lake Ep 1.32

Roy sat in the waiting room, a bandage on his side, and a small cup of water in his hand. He still didn’t feel totally stable, but as the excitement around him died down, so did his nerves.

Detective Stephen Roberts sat next to him, sipping a cup of coffee. Roy was shocked that the detective could actually drink that stuff. It was usually either to hot or to bitter to consume, but Stephen was downing it like it was tap water.

"You know I’ll have to talk to Paul at some point, right?" His voice was gruff.

"Come by tomorrow." Roy looked out the window, towards his car. He wanted to just run out of there, get in his car, and jump in bed with Paul, but he knew that he was in no shape to drive.

"So if you knew Nurse Fitch was harassing Paul, why didn’t you come to me?" Stephen brushed some coffee off of his rather bushy mustache.

Roy always that Stephen resembled a seventies porn star, with his big mustache, his thin build, and that little bit of chest hair you could always see because he never buttoned the top few buttons of his shirts. Right now that bit of humor was the only humor Roy had.

"I didn’t think it was that serious." Roy sipped his water. "I told William about it, and he and..." He pointed to the body bag being wheeled out, "they had been keeping an eye out."

"I just want to know why she did it." Stephen put down his coffee and looked Roy right in the eyes. "What would drive that woman to go and try and kill your boyfriend?"

"She was crazy Stephen." Roy shook his head. "You’ve known Paul and I our entire lives. When have either of us done anything that would warrant... that."

Roy wanted to tell Stephen everything, but he knew that the police wouldn’t understand, or even believe them. Roy hardly believed it all, and he’d lived through most of it.

"You okay? Looked like she sliced you pretty bad." Stephen lifted Roy’s arm, taking a look at his bandage.

"It’s not to deep. No stitches." Roy noticed that Stephen’s hand held on to him for just a little to long.

Their eyes met.

Roy stood up, stretching, and finding any excuse he could to get out of the detective’s grip.

In between Chester and Paul, Roy had found himself hooking up with Stephen a few times. It had never been anything serious, at least not to Roy. He was hurting, and Stephen was willing. They had ended it peacefully, but right now Roy was getting the feeling that Stephen wasn’t as done with the whole affair as he was.

"I should get home. Paul is going to need his pain medication soon, and I have to open the bar." Roy’s eyes kept glancing at the door. "You need anything else?"

Stephen stood, his eyes on his feet. He ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

"No, not right now." He looked up, his eyes avoiding Roy’s face. "I don’t want things to be weird between us Roy."

"They aren’t." Roy reached out, putting his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. "I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll give Paul the heads up that you’re going to be stopping by."

"Does he know?" Stephen’s hands went into his pockets, and his eyes looked out the window.

"Probably. I don’t think it’ll bother him. He knows we’re friends." Roy started walking towards the door. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

He gave the detective a quick wave, and then headed out the door.

Before he could even get in his car he was stopped by the sound of William calling out his name.

Roy looked up to see the good doctor running towards his car, clouds of steam puffing from his mouth.

"Hey, don’t forget these." He held out a small bag, the little insignia for prescription on the front. "The two big bottles are for Paul, and the small one is for you." He leaned against Roy’s car, out of breath. "It’s something to help you sleep."

"Thanks." Roy unlocked his car. "You sure you don’t want to come to the bar later? Carla will probably be there."

"I think they’ll let me out of my shift early, so I might stop by." He crossed his arms. "I’m guessing she knows that our date was canceled on account of a homicidal nurse."

Roy laughed. The situation was so odd, so out of place in his life, that his mind just couldn’t take it seriously. Then he remembered that one person died tonight, and the reality started to set in.

They were all in real danger, and all he could worry about was his old flame hitting on him, and making sure that William and Carla got their chance at a romantic evening.

"Did you know him well?" Roy leaned on the roof of his car, his chin resting on his crossed arms.

"Yeah. I mean, not really well, but he was a friend." William looked back at the hospital, his shoulders dropping. "I don’t want to go back in there. Not tonight. Maybe not ever."

"Then don’t. Call them up and tell them that you need to take the night off to clear your head." Roy got in his car.

William stood outside for a few moments, then joined Roy.

"Drinks will be on the house." Roy started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.31

Paul had been glad to get out of the hospital, but he had just wished that Roy could have left with him. Now he found himself stuck in Carla’s battered up green truck, his soon to be ex-wife at the wheel, and she looked very unhappy.

"They couldn’t wait one night, could they?" She looked at him, her eyes burning. "You know I was supposed to go on a date with William tonight?"

"William" He hugged his bag closer to his chest, growing more scared of Carla than he had been of Nurse Fitch.

"Yeah, William, your doctor. I was supposed to have dinner with him tonight. It was nice, something to look forward to. Did it happen? No, of course not, because some psychotic cult decided they wanted to kill you tonight." She slammed her palms on the steering wheel then winced.

"Well, I’m sorry they tried to kill me." He kept his eyes on the road. One of them had to. He had already been in one car accident, and he wasn’t looking to repeat that incident.

"It’s not your fault." She rolled down her window, letting the cool night air in the cab of the truck. "For once it isn’t your fault."

He didn’t know how to respond to that last comment. He just sat there, looking straight ahead, his bag gripped against his chest. He could feel the outline of Charles’ journal through the fabric. It took everything in him not to just chuck the book out the window and be done with it.

That was what Nurse Fitch had been after. That’s what the Black Rose Society wanted. Part of him just wanted to give it to them, and then to run as fast as he could out of town, and away from Spirit Lake forever. The other part of him wanted to rip every member of that group limb from limb. They hadn’t just nearly kill him, they nearly killed Roy, and he couldn’t let that go.

"So, you and William?" He needed to change the subject.

"What about him?" Her hands tightened on the wheel.

"He seems nice."

"But?"

"But nothing. He seems nice. And straight." He giggled a little. "A vast improvement over me."

She gave him a quick glance, a sly smile on her face.

When they finally got to the Hub the parking lot was empty. Roy had told him that he was opening late so they could get Paul settled, and that Roxanne would be there to let them in, but when they got to the door they found it look.

Carla started banging on it, her little fists making the door shutter.

"We’re closed." A soft, feminine voice came from inside.

"Roxanne?" Paul got close to the door.

He heard a click, and the door cracked open. A small face covered in streaked make-up peeked out at them. She gave Paul a quick glance, and when her eyes settled on Carla she opened it.

"Sorry, I got a little visitor tonight." Roxanne laughed. "It was a friend of yours Carla."

They all moved into the bar, closing the door, locking it behind them. They didn’t want to take any chances.

"Harvey was here?" Carla took off her jacket and threw it one of the empty tables.

"Yeah, and I have to say, he is one horny bastard." Roxanne crossed her arms over her chest, and looked down at the floor. "I got him though."

"Is he... dead?" Carla put her hand on Roxanne’s shoulder.

Paul looked around. The bar was a wreck. There was broken glass on the floor and chairs and tables were knocked over. There was also a nice sized trail of blood that led from behind the bar, through the main floor, then out the front door.

"I don’t know." She looked Carla in the eyes. "He was really going to hurt me. You weren’t lying when you said he was crazy. He tried to rip my clothes off. His hands were all over me..."

"What did you do?" Paul pulled up a chair, his legs suddenly feeling weak.

"Bit his tongue off." She looked behind the bar. "It’s probably still back there."

"Well, I’m going to take Paul upstairs, but you hang around. I’ll help you clean up." Carla gave Roxanne’s shoulder a firm pat, then she turned to Paul. "You ready?"

He nodded and stood, the weight of his duffle bag making his shoulder ache.

Once they were upstairs, and Roy’s familiar sent filled Paul’s nostrils he could feel his muscles relax. He actually felt safe. He made his way towards the bedroom, sliding his bag under the bed. He sat, wishing Roy was next to him.

He would be soon enough.

"If you need anything I’ll be downstairs." She walked in, giving the room a look. "Just call my cell, okay?"

Paul nodded and laid down. His body ached with every movement. The night was finally getting to him. After Carla left it only took seconds for him to drift off to sleep.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.30

Roxanne sat in the bar, a book open in her lap, and a cigarette between her lips. She glanced up, and could see the sun setting behind the tinted window next to the front door.

She stretched, arm muscles aching from lack of movement.

Well, the day hadn’t been a total waste. She had met one of her favorite authors, and even got an autograph out of the whole thing. She knew Spirit Lake was the right spot for her. Julie Kramer was a sign that, at least for now, this would be her new home.

The front door of the bar opened slowly and a young man walked in.

"Sorry, we’re closed." Roxanne put her book down and stood, leaning against the bar.

"Just one drink?" The young man smiled.

"You don’t look old enough to vote, let alone drink." She laughed, lighting up a cigarette. "Come back when you’re twenty one."

"I don’t think I know you." He took a step towards the bar. "I’m Harvey, and you are?"

Roxanne froze. She had heard Roy tell Julie about what had happened in the library the night before.

"Look, Harvey, I told you, we’re closed." Her hand went under the bar, feeling for the bat that Roy kept there.

"Oh come on. Roy won’t mind." He took another step closer.

"Oh, but I do." Her hand wrapped around the bat’s handle. She pulled it out, letting it dangle by her leg, just out of Harvey’s view.

"No need to be so hostile." He was at the bar now. He leaned forward, his face inches from hers. He smiled. "I wonder what you look like naked." His voice was a whisper.

"Back off." Roxanne swung the bat, just missing Harvey’s head.

He took a step back, crouching down, his eyes watching her move.

"So this is how we’re going to play." He lunged across the bar, grabbing her shoulders.

Roxanne screamed, her hand swiping at his face, scratching his cheeks.

Harvey howled and fell back, covering his wounds. He crouched down on the floor. Roxanne leaned forward, looking at her attack. His shoulders seemed to spasm, and it sounded as if he was crying.

He looked at her, his eyes wild, his mouth contorted into a vicious grin.

"God you know how to turn me on." He lunged again, but missed this time, falling over the bar and onto his stomach.

Roxanne tried to run, but Harvey grabbed her ankle, yanking her down to the floor. He started to crawl on top of her, his hands grabbing at her.

"Get the hell off of me!" She tried to kick out, but it wasn’t doing any good.

He had her pinned to the ground, his hips grinding against hers. His eyes moved from her chest to her neck to her face, soaking in her image.

He leaned down, close, his breath was sour. He kissed her, and Roxanne had to hold back the urge to vomit. Instead she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to enter, then clamped her teeth down hard.

Harvey tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go. He smacked her on the side of the head, and Roxanne could feel the flesh between her teeth tear as the blow sent her head shooting sideways.

Harvey stood, screaming, blood pouring from his mouth.

Even with her head still spinning from the blow Roxanne knew this was her one chance to stop him. She kicked up, her foot connecting with Harvey’s crotch. While he was bent over, howling even louder she stood, grabbing the biggest bottle she could find off the shelf, and she brought it down on Harvey’s head.

The glass shattered as it connected with his skull, sending sharp little fragments of bottle and Vodka all over the floor behind the bar. Harvey stood for a second, stunned, then he collapsed, his face landing in the small jagged pieces of glass.

Roxanne stood up straight, wiping Harvey’s blood from her lips.

"You don’t screw with Chicago."

She looked around, trying to find something to tie the kid up with. She ran to the back room, throwing open drawers and cupboards. Finally she found a role of masking tape.

"Perfect." She grabbed it, heading back into the bar.

She looked a the floor, but Harvey was gone. All that was left was a blood trail that led to the front door, and out onto Main Street.

She wasn’t sure how far Harvey was going to get though. He was bleeding pretty badly, and she had done a number on his skull.

She grabbed her cellphone and dialed the police, but hung up before they could answer.

She had heard everyone talking the night before. She knew that whoever this kid was working for had ties in the town.

She ran to the front door and locked it.

She would wait till Roy got back. He would know what to do. If he didn’t then someone would. She hoped someone would at least.

-*-

Roy pushed open the double doors that led to the main hallway of the hospital. He just wanted to get Paul, and get the hell out of there. William was still at the front desk, filling out the rest of Paul’s paperwork.

When the door swung open he nearly screamed. Paul was on the floor, crawling towards him, and Nurse Fitch stood behind him, a scalpel raised over her head, ready to strike.

"Get away from him you crazy bitch!" Roy screamed, rushing at her.

She slashed at him, but missed.

All the noise had drawn a group of people at the other end of the hall. Roy wanted to scream at them, tell them to help, but he didn’t have time. He grabbed the nurse’s wrist and twisted.

She let out a shriek of pain, the scalpel falling from her hand. Roy took his chance, kneeing her in the stomach.

Nurse Fitch stumbled back, her hands clutching her aching gut.

Roy grabbed Paul and started to run for the waiting room.

"You’ll never get away!" Nurse Fitch was shrieking.

Roy turned and watched as she stumbled forward, slipping in a growing pool of blood forming around her feet. She bent down and picked up the scalpel. With a shriek she charged at them, scalpel raised above her head, eyes wide, an insane, blood covered smile on her face.

Roy pushed through the doors and found a gun pointed at his head. He ducked, dragging Paul with him. He covered Paul’s ears from the deafening gunshot.

He glanced back just in time to see the bullet rip through Nurse Helen Fitch’s skull, splattering the hallway in bits of bone and gore.

He looked up at the police officer standing there, shocked. He lowered his gun and took a step back.

Roy stood, helping Paul to his feet. William ran to them, checking them both over.

Suddenly Roy felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked down and saw a long gash cutting through his shirt. Apparently she hadn’t missed when she had slashed at him.

He looked up. William was tending to Paul, and everyone else was rushing around as if the world was going to end.

Suddenly the room began to spin. Roy leaned out, his hand just missing the main desk, and instead he found himself falling to his knees.

"Roy?" He could hear Paul’s voice. "Roy, what’s the matter?"

Roy tried to speak, but couldn’t. When he opened his mouth he felt the bile rush up his throat and out his mouth. It splattered on the floor.

He felt a hand on his back, and someone at his side.

"It’s okay." William was speaking. "It’ll be okay."

Roy wasn’t so sure about that.

He wretched again, but nothing came out. He could feel William’s hand moving in large circles on his back, trying to calm him.

He glanced, through tear blurred eyes, at Paul. He was safe, that was all that mattered.

"Lets get you stitched up." William was trying to help him to his feet, but Roy didn’t want to move.

"Please." Paul was crying. Roy could hear it in his voice as he spoke. "Please take care of him William."

Before William pulled Roy into one of the offices he looked back, and the image that greeted him nearly broke his heart. A blood splattered, weeping Paul sat there, clutching his black duffle bag against his chest.

"I’ll be fine." He whispered, but he knew Paul had heard him.

"You better be." Paul called over all the commotion in the hospital waiting room.

-*-

Julie stopped her car at the front gate to the Kramer Mansion. She put it in park, and stepped out, her shoes crunching on the loose gravel and stones. The street needed to be repaved, but there was no way she was going to pay for it. Still, it did a number on her car.

She leaned against the gate, looking up at the mansion. From this distance it looked like a matte painting from an old horror movie. It didn’t look real, hidden behind all those trees, the purple night’s sky glowing behind the silhouette of the place she had never wanted to call home again.

Julie suddenly felt like she wasn’t alone.

She turned, and standing behind her on the road was a woman, almost completely naked except for a black cloak she wore. The hood was down, revealing her beautiful face, her long black hair, and her shocking red lips.

"You should have left when you had the chance." The woman’s voice was deep, rich.

Julie took a step towards her.

"You’re the cause of all of this." She stopped. "You’re Moira, right?"

"I have been called that name in a long time." She smiled. A sudden gust of wind caught her cape, causing it to flutter behind her, revealing her body to Julie.

"You don’t look anything like your picture."

"Time can change people." Moira turned, walking back into the shadows, little slivers of moonlight breaking through the trees revealed her every couple of steps.

"It’s more than time." Julie was shocked at how loud her voice was.

Julie stopped, turning towards her, smiling.

"So much more." Moira pulled up her hood. "You should have left. It’s to late now, though. You and your friends will fall, and I will win."

"That’s what you think."

Moira didn’t speak. Instead she stepped into the shadows, vanishing from Julie’s view.

Julie fell back against the gate, feeling as if the life had been sucked out of her body. The fear finally decided to creep in, causing a cold sweat to break out on her forehead.

This was all very real. It was at that moment that Julie realized that not everyone would get out alive.

She slid down the gate into a sitting position, pulling her knees to her chest, and burying her face in her jeans. The tears came quickly.

She wasn’t crying for those she had already lost, but instead for those she knew she was going to loose.

She stayed there, leaning against the gate until the tears refused to come anymore. Then she stood, opened the gate, got back in her car, and drove up the long driveway, knowing now that running was no longer an option.

She could not abandon her friends this time. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she did that again.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.29

Paul stood by his bed, throwing his things into a duffel bag. Charles Kramer’s diary was buried on the bottom. There was no way he was going to forget that. He had a very strong feeling that book was the reason Nurse Fitch was so interested in him, and he wasn’t going to let her get it.

His legs gave out a shriek of pain and he sat down quickly, grimacing as the stitch on his side tugged from the sudden motion. He knew he shouldn’t be on his feet, but he just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stand being in that room for one more second with that psycho so near by.

"Now you know you shouldn’t be out of bed." Nurse Fitch’s voice was a soft whisper.

The woman stepped into the room quickly, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Get the hell out." Paul tried to stand, but his legs didn’t want to work with him.

"Is that the way to speak to someone whose just trying to help?" The nurse stopped, crossing her hands over her rather large, sagging breasts. She took a step forward, picking up Paul’s chart. She glanced over it. "You’re so young, so healthy." She looked up at him, smiling. "You’ll be perfect."

Nurse Fitch threw down his chart and charged, her hands aiming for Paul’s neck.

He reacted as quickly as he could and swung his bag out, catching the nurse on the side of the head. She went sprawling, and crashed into the wall on the opposite side of the bed.

Paul was on his feet, the adrenaline kicking in, dulling the intense pain from the ripped stitch in his side. He threw his bag over his shoulder and darted for the door. He could feel the warm blood starting to drip from the wound.

He made it into the hallway, but his body caught up with him, and a shock of pain made him stumble. He screamed, falling to the floor.

He could hear Nurse Fitch getting up, groaning in pain. He couldn’t stay there. She would be after him in a second. He tried to get up, but couldn’t. So he did the next best thing. He started dragging himself down the hall, towards the large swinging doors that led into the waiting room.

"Help me!" He screamed.

Nurse Fitch entered the hallway, a small cut on the side of her face trailing blood down her cheek. Her hair was a mess, strands trying to escape the tight bun on the back of her skull. She smiled, pulling the scalpel from her pocket.

"I am trying to help you Paul." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. She giggled.

She slowly stepped towards him, her eyes locked on him as he tried to pull himself away.

"What the hell are you doing?" A young orderly emerged from the nurse’s station, and ran towards them.

When he was close enough Nurse Fitch turned around, her hand slashing through the air, the blade of the scalpel slicing a thin line across the orderlies throat.

"Stay out of this!" She shrieked.

When the young man fell to his knees, a red river flowing from his neck Nurse Fitch grabbed the young man’s shoulder, running her hand through the stream of blood.

She moaned, rubbing the red liquid on her face, her neck, her chest. She was lost in the throws of passion.

Paul watched on in horror as the young man fell to his side, his skin pale, his eyes wide. Nurse Fitch looked at Paul, her face painted in the orderlies blood.

"You’ll make me so pretty." She laughed. "Your youth, your vitality will be mine young man."

She took a step towards him, scalpel raised, ready to strike.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.28

William stepped into the library, the sudden blast of air conditioning making his body shutter. It was a vast difference from the climate of the library last night. It was almost like they had stepped into the rainforest when they had checked the place out, but today it was like entering the arctic.

Carla sat behind the desk, a stack of books next to her, and a bar code scanner in her right hand. She looked so wrapped up in what she was doing, her face completely blank, her eyes moving from one book to the next.

Still, in her stillness William was shocked by how beautiful she was. Her round, freckled face and her green eyes gave her a kind of youthful quality, but the lines around her eyes and mouth hinted at her strength. He had to hold back to the urge to rush up to her, taking her petite body in his arms and kiss her, to tell her that everything would be alright, and that he would protect her.

That would probably end up making her angry. Carla Russo did not strike William as the type of woman who liked being protected. He was pretty sure she didn’t need it any ways.

Carla looked up from her books and smiled.

"What brings you here?" She put down the scanner, and brushed her short red hair behind her ears.

"Just wanted to check in. Harvey show his face today?" William walked up to the counter, placing both hands on the cold linoleum surface, and leaned forward, taking the weight off of his feet.

"Not yet. I’m still waiting, but I think he’s going to avoid me for a while. I mean, after what we saw last night? He’s either embarrassed, or planning something." She sighed, leaning back in her chair and stretching. "I’m betting on the planning part."

"You really think he’s part of all of this?" William tried to keep his eyes on Carla’s face, and not on her bare stomach that was being revealed by her yellow tank top riding up as she stretched.

"Almost positive." She twisted, cracking her back. "I swear, next time could they just kill me? I feel like one giant bruise from that fall."

"Don’t say that." William stood up straight. "I don’t want you getting hurt again."

"How do you plan on keeping me safe doctor?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Leave town for a little while. Take a vacation." He knew he was going to get a royal tongue lashing for speaking his mind, but he couldn’t help it.

"William, I will never back down from a fight. Those bastards attacked me first, and I swear I am going to get them back." She stood, looking him in the eyes. "No one hurts me and gets away with it."

She turned walking towards her office.

"Please, if Harvey shows up call me." William had to speak up so he could be heard over the air conditioner. "Just in case."

Carla peaked her head out of the doorway.

"I’ll give you that one, but I won’t leave town." She smiled. "So, we holding off on the date until after this whole mess blows over?"

He had actually forgotten about asking her out. He smiled. The fact that she had remembered meant that maybe, just maybe he had a shot with her.

"I don’t know if I can wait that long." He thought for a minute. "How about I bring you dinner here tonight. It won’t be the most romantic setting, but at least it’ll be something."

"Sounds nice." She tapped the door frame, signalling that she had to get back to work. "Then I’ll see you here around seven?"

"Seven it is."

She slipped back into her office, and William turned, his mind clear for a few seconds. He actually had something to look forward to. Something to take his mind off of all the hell that seemed to be breaking out around him.

He pushed open the door, and into the warmth of the sun, a little smile on his face.

Now if only everything went smoothly until seven, and it might actually turn out to be a decent day.

He wasn’t counting on it.