02:02// She's just going through a phase

~Tempest's POV, continuation~

A chill runs down my spine when I answer the call. Tried and true, there are four things to consider when the price of survival runs dry: one, whether or which I curious to know, two, if I'd like to run through this situation, and more so, become a lamb raised for slaughter, three, even when considering the two above, If I'd even make it out alive, and finally, four, if this damn flashlight continues to flicker on and off, I'll end up dead, tried and true.

The strange voicemail spoke of the address to a dark alleyway in Salisbury, New York. The male voice in the voicemail prompted me to this address, so I had no choice but to hope and pray that I wouldn't be led into this meticulous trap, and head over there.

Darkness surrounds me, as I reached the end of the underground tunnel, with only the sound of the creak of my mountain bike and the crickets aiding in comforting me. "Creak, creak," the sound of the bike ran along the rigged pavement, hustling along in speedy motion. I've gotten so used to the sound of this old wheeler that I've never noticed how loud it squeaks, and how the quiet that envelops all around me, has made it ever more obvious.

A sign that reads, do not cross, lays ahead of me, written in red blood, on a wooden plank. I skid to a stop, and the old wheeler lets out a squeal.

I look ahead, and I see that it is that same shady figure that attacked me on my doorstep.

" It is you again, Ms.Zappia," The figure rasps, and he looks up at me, revealing a face so mortifying and disproportionate, that it almost scares me to death. His lips are cracked, and bruised, with dribbles of blood seeping through the cracks. Half of his face looks burned, like he was a victim of a house fire. One of his eyes looks glassy, a pseudo-eye, even. And his blackening teeth, along with his breath, reek of blood and human meat.

A cannibal.

" You! Why did you take me here?" I scowl, and I bite down on my lower lip, trying to forge my frustration and fear into one.

" Ha, you should say that to your friends over there," He grins, and motions with his head leading to a large pine tree, where a man is tied to the tree trunk, his eyes blindfolded with a white cloth, blood on his lips.

" I don't know him," I snap, as I refuse to look at the man.

" Are you sure? I'm sure you know who he is. Take a closer look," He says, his eyes widening at the man tied to the tree trunk, eyeing him like he's a piece of meat.

" I told you. I don't know him," I snap, and I turn my back away from the man, waiting until he's done running his mouth, putting words into my mouth, like a parent force-feeding their child something they don't want to eat.

" Very well, I guess we can split it, eh?" He smirks, and he whips out his long butcher knife, edging over to the man like a predator stalking its prey. The man sniffles, and cries out, " Please! Save me, anyone! I know you're there, I know you can HEAR ME!!" His cries for help, and his wailing: irritates me.

I come here for one thing, and one thing only. And, I refuse to let a random stranger, even be it a suffering stranger, get in my way. However-

And, just as he begins to slice the man's neck with his knife, I speak out.

" Wait! Let him go!"

He turns around and looks me in the eyes because he knows that I've just asked for a death wish.

****

Edging over to me, he lays two blood-ridden fingers on my face, to shut me up.

" Shhh, you don't want me to eat you, right? Just let me finish my meal..." His eyes are glowing manically, as the wind howls above. I start to shiver, and he notices.

" Cold?" He crackles, and I look behind me and see the head of a man, his eyes torn out, revealing only sunken, crimson eye sockets.

The same man who was tied up.

Sweat pours down the nape of my neck, and I widen my eyes in terror at the sight. Right before my eyes, I see that-

That he's gone.

****

A few hours later, I'm being questioned by the police, particularly Detective Esmeralda Kim and Detective Jeremy Jenkins from the case studies department. Tied in chains, with two bodyguards with brandishing pistols are behind me, ready to fire at any given moment that I hesitate to answer their gaudy questions.

" Answer me! Did you kill the man, Regan Kepney?!" Detective Kim spat, as she slams her hand on the table.

" I already told you, I didn't."

" Then tell me, why were you there, in those woods? At 6:45 pm, you departed from your apartment at Melville avenue, house number 77890. At 7:25 pm, you arrived at Salisbury avenue, and walked over to the nearby swampy woods. At 8:00, you shot the man, Regan. And now, you deny to me that you didn't kill him?! Outrageous!" She snaps, and she grabs me by the collar.

Tch, this lady, who the hell does she think she is! But even so, I decided to keep my cool, otherwise, they'd actually believe that I did kill the man... When I, in fact, did not.

" Ems! Get a hold of yourself!" I hear Detective Jenkins warn her, as he tries to pull her away from me.

" No! Never! Not until she an-"

He then interrupts her, " She has clearly answered all of the thirty-two questions you've asked her, and she has already been discharged."

"Discharged! Impossible!"

" It is possible, she has been proven innocent of this crime." He tells her, with a sigh.

Detective Jenkins, between trying to strangle her, and pushing her out of the door, turns over to me and says with a small, reassuring smile, " so sorry about that, Ms.Zappia. I do hope we'll all get along, after all... We are all three going to be coworkers soon-"

I stop him with a wave of my hand saying, " no need to apologize." When he hears me tell him that, he gives me a nod, and rushes out the door.

Now that the detectives have left me alone, and so have the bodyguards, I see that there is a symbol on my arm, a small tattoo. Strange.

I definitely don't remember having a tattoo.

The tattoo is red, and it says two words: BROOKER DELUNA.

The signature of the man who almost killed me last night, the cannibal man. The fact that he had engraved his signature, his name, on my arm shows that I'm his "property" now. And me being his property isn't a sign that I'll get out of this alive.

****

When I'm finally released from these chains, I'm to be sent back to my apartment by taxi, as suggested by Sheriff Hernandez. He tells me that my training starts tomorrow, at Buck Rodingson University. There's something that's oddly off about the events that are occurring to me, and I think it could be something like what the nurse back at the hospital had said, about me 'going through a phase.'

" Sir?" I ask the Sheriff, as he walks over to me.

" Yes, Ms.Zappia? What do you need?"

" I have something to show you, this tattoo on my arm... Perhaps it would be good evidence to find the killer?" I tell him and show him the engraved signature on my arm, proudly.

The sheriff takes out a magnifying glass and directs it at the tattoo, curious. Once he sees what I'm talking about, I see his eyes go wide of fear.

" Brooker DeLuna?!" He yelps.

" Yes, sir. I believe that whoever that was had some association with him... Or, he is him, perhaps?"

" No, no. Tempest dear, DeLuna died ten years ago. There's no way-" He lets go of my arm, and rushes past me.

" Sir! Where are you going?" I call out, as I start to follow him, walking fast.

" Don't!! Don't Follow me!" He scolds, as he runs out the door. However, I do follow him.

And when I do, I see that he is speaking with Mayor Gills, who leads him into his limousine. I stare at him, in utter confusion, shocked. What a coward! How does he have the right to call himself a cop? Running away like that? Please!

But... There must be a reason that he is.

But still...

Where the hell is he going-?

" Who are you, Tempest Zappia?" I hear a voice ask me.

Who am I?

I don't even know how to answer that question.

I'm just going through a phase after all, who I am today, might not be who I am tomorrow.