DAY EIGHT 11:53AM

Prophecy 

Hank took a deep breath. Johannesberg toyed with his eyebrow ring. Laughter trickled down from the dorms; Susanna had organized some kind of game for the others to play. She was a great addition to the group, a teacher. She still worked professionally; the last shift had changed the location of her school, but the students still knew her. 

"I hate to see it all fall apart," Hank said. He scratched his beard. Jo kept quiet. He looked a little uncomfortable seeing the big man get so emotional.

"It's bullshit," Hank continued. "This one guy shows up and suddenly people are going missing, then he's got the Father convinced we're part of some big conspiracy. Bullshit." 

"I don't know..."

Hank rounded on the young man. He had a flash of grabbing the kid by his mohawk and ramming his face into the door. It had been a long time since those outbursts of rage; part of his former life. But since Luger had disappeared, then the Father, then Mayganne, Hank had started to feel the surges of violence return. Father Donnelly had returned in the middle of the night, but spouting nonsense, and Hank wasn't feeling any better. 

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

"How about we wait and see what Mother says?" 

Hank felt his hand tighten into a fist. "Fine. I'm going for a walk." He started down the hall. He heard Susanna's voice calling out instructions for the game. Johannesberg caught up to him.

"Hank, listen. Please." The older man took another deep breath. Jo continued. "K, you're gonna think this is nuts too. But I have to tell someone. You wonder why I don't seem worried about this Max guy..." 

"Things have gotten worse since he showed up."

"Well, stranger anyway. If that's possible. But listen... The thing is... I saw this anime when I was younger, and the main character... Well, the series was called Aeon Triumph Gun Messiahs-" 

The door opened to Mother's room.

"I've made a decision," Alice said.

DAY EIGHT 7:40AM

Sugarcoating 


Her eyes were swelling shut so she couldn't see the next fist. It connected to her temple again, a ring, had looked like a high school ring she thought, took another chuck of flesh off her face. 

I'm dying, she thought. Maybe I can finally find peace.  

At least she could still hear clear as a bell out of her left ear; her right ear was caked over with blood.  

"I don't get it," the one called Scorpio said. He was the one with the ring. "Why are we working her over? She's just a girl for christ sake."  

"Getting soft in your old age are we, Scorp," the other, named Quip, chided his partner. "We just follow orders. Do what needs to be done. No questions."  

"But this ain't right," Scorpio said. She could hear the hint of disgust in his voice. "She's just a kid."  

"Maybe you want to be the one sitting there getting the facial reconstruction," Quip told his partner.  

Mayganne had seen a lot in her 17 years of life. She was born in the lower slums in what she gathered was her Prime Version before the realities began to blur. She had fought her way against the stereotypical downfall that her mother had gone through. There was no way that she wanted to end up like her mother. In fact, she was sort of glad that this was quite the distance away from her mother's path.  

"Well, I ain't doing what they want to do to her next," Scorpio said; his voice showed that little quiver in a man's voice when he had to face the tough decisions. "I draw the limit at that. No friggin' way man."  

"Man, you're wimping out," Quip scolded his partner. "Can't you wrap it around your mind that this girl is..."  

There was a sound of a window shattering in another room.