Suffer The Little Children

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Asmodeus, Jan 22, 2012.

  1. <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The Grimbo Diner... last stop before Batesville, a backwater town deep in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas. This is a place where only truckers and inbreds are considered locals, and strangers are lucky to leave with their lives. And here, in the town of Batesville, 6 killers live beyond the reach of justice. Until now.... <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> He didn't know it, but he was not the only to have received the letter. It was typed, printed on card, and mailed to his private address. Whoever the customer was, they knew how to find him. And it was a long way from Portland. Parker stepped through the doors of the diner, as distinct as a black man at a clan rally. He wore jeans, a dark jacket, and his eyes gleamed amidst the smokey, dingey hole that awaited him. <span class="time">-01:51 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Courrier New,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> [Tamara Sparrow is a private detective!] <span class="time">-01:54 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> Willowdean stood on the tips of her toes as she pressed the palm of her right hand into the metal sink, applying a thick coat of red lipstick with her left. She checked her reflection in the grimy mirror, tucked the lipstick tube into the back pockets of her daisy dukes. Willowdean withdrew a letter from her other pocket, placed it inside of the paper towel dispenser, and made her way to the bathroom door. <span class="time">-01:56 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>A scrawny barman met Parker's gaze. He was old-looking, with grey hair and beard, grey hairs on his neck, grime in his skin. The man looked like he hadn't eaten in days. But his eyes were mean, which made him more like a coiled snake, waiting to bite. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #336699; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> When Tamara stepped in to the diner several moments later, she found that playing down her usual upscale attire hadn't prevented her from being stared at the moment she walked through the doors. After living in the city for her entire life, coming out to the country in response to an odd invitation seemed like a nice change of pace. As she stood there, unsure of where to go next, she took a quick glance around the room. <span class="time">-01:57 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Courrier New,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> [Rowen Bramble was sent as a proxy for the ever reclusive J.O. Griffin, famed novelist and private dective.] <span class="time">-01:57 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> <font size=1>[Rowen Bramble is now known as: Rowen]</font> <span class="time">-01:58 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>Truckers, lumberjacks, farmers and drunks. A host of eyes followed Parker as he crossed the room. Drinks and cigarettes hovered before lips, and chairs scraped as people turned to stare. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;Got any rum?&quot; Parker asked, giving his best smile as the barman eyed him. The man was about a foot shorter than Parker, but clearly had twice the intelligence of the other patrons. The barman held the detective's gaze and continued polishing his glass. <span class="time">-02:01 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The barman wore a leather apron over a food-stained vest. There was a namebadge pinned to his apron. It read, simply, "Stilts". <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker wondered if this was their idea of irony in these parts. <span class="time">-02:03 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Rowen sat across from one of the locals, a rathery wordy older man whose teeth have been ravaged by age and presumably drug use. The man seemed pretty strung out, but he seemed to know the lay of the land, where things were, who did what and what ususally was going around town. None of this was useful, of course, but it was essential to have a contact that familiar with the locale. Plus it made him look inconspecuious when the stranger boom of out of town started to come in, persumable for the same reason why he was sent there. <span class="time">-02:04 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> Willowdean moved through the haze of cigarette smoke as a ghost. She wandered amongst the others, she as invisible to them as they were to each other, a sight so usual it did not warrant the brain's recognition. Green eyes pierced the air, as she moved on with one steady purpose: to keep the others from hearing the pounding of her heart. <span class="time">-02:05 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Courrier New,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> [Tamara ] <span class="time">-02:06 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> <font size=1 face=verdana>[<font color=red>Tamara</font> ]</font> <span class="time">-02:06 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The barman's eye drifted over Parker's shoulder and fixed on Tamara. "Lookit, boys. It's an invasion." There was a riffle of laughter around the diner. The barman continued polishing the glass, the bones of his wrist pushing up against the skin. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara paused, looking a little putout and embarassed at the sudden draw of attention. But she swallowed it quickly, resting her hands on her hips and giving that city-girl look of sass she was pretty sure they were expecting. &quot;All right, chuckles! I am here to meet someone. Can any of you give a lady a hand?&quot; <span class="time">-02:11 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker held his smile and opened his wallet, laying out some bills on the bar. He glanced at Tamara and then back at the barman. &quot;A house special then, for me and the lady.&quot; He sat on the stool, making sure there was another next to him if Tamara wanted to sit. <span class="time">-02:14 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Rowen tooked a bite into his Country Fried Steak as he eyed the woman who was openly inviting herself to sexual taunts and unwanted advances and tried not to smirk. &quot;Heh, I take it's some sort of car trouble ya got, missy?&quot; He took on the drawl of land as he glance curiously at at the woman, a smile of devious manner curling up on his lips as his new companion seemed tickled pink at his taunting of the lady. <span class="time">-02:16 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> (Damnit...Wait, I totally read that wrong...) <span class="time">-02:17 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> (Replace that with some lewd pickup line.) <span class="time">-02:17 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> (*Nods like that magically happened*) <span class="time">-02:18 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> ((&quot;'ey Bubba! You ever fuck a girl on her period?!&quot; Assumed)) <span class="time">-02:18 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;Thank yoou.&quot; she chimed, in a sing-song voice. Tamara slipped in to the seat, unwrapping her knit scarf from around her neck. &quot;Not at all. I was invited to be here, by a rather anonymous individual. I suppose I am not the only one?&quot; Now she was examining Parker, who definetly didn't fit in to the social climate. She also refused to aknowledge the lewd comments. Men like that fed off the attention. <span class="time">-02:19 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> Willowdean grinned, before hurrying over to the bar. With a quick, scaggling grace, Willow had pulled herself onto the bar stool next to Parker. &quot;And a Shirley Temple, Mr. Stilts! Mr. Big City's payin'.&quot; The teen flashed a cheshire grin at Tamara and Parker, her red lips accentuated her small cat teeth. <span class="time">-02:20 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Before Parker coud speak to Tamara, a young girl had climbed onto the seat next to him. She can't have been more than thirteen, and plastered her lips with red lipstick. She certainly didn't fit the place. For one thing she looked healthy, and for another thing she was smiling. He laid another bill on the bar and raised an eyebrow at Willowdean. &quot;Aren't you a little young for non-alcoholic drinks?&quot; <span class="time">-02:23 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Silently, his eyes never losing their squinting glare, the barman served a bottle of dusty beer to Tamara. As he did so, she noticed the gold rolex on his wrist, and a cluster of gold rings on his fingers. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;Ain't you a little dressed up for these parts?&quot; Willowdean peered around Parker at Tamara, clearly admiring her clothes. &quot;Ya'll lovers havin' a randayvoo or somethin?&quot; <span class="time">-02:28 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He gave a causal nod to his toothless new friend and picked up his plate waltz his way over to where the strangers were grouped up and casually sat down next to the woman. &quot;I enjoy how you announced yourself so proudly like that, miss, and competely removed the air of subtly that called us here.&quot; His accent seemed to shift back into that of a more North Eastern flavor as he cut into his steak. &quot;I am here on behalf of my benefactor who could not. The mystery of annnoymous invitation was just to enticing to resist.&quot; He nods as he slips a slice of stake into his mouth. <span class="time">-02:28 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;And thank you, too.&quot; She offered the bartender a smile, despite his never-changing glare. The cap on her beer were one of those pop types, and she was having a hard time trying to twist it off. Tamara laughed softly. &quot;I don't know him. And I don't think our benefactor was going for subtly when he invited us here. I don't exactly scream country bar, do I?&quot; She responded with a smirk. Tamara still couldn't her beer open! There were several snickers around the room. <span class="time">-02:31 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker overheard Rowen's introduction. So he wasn't the only one? He took his beer from Stilts and nodded to Tamara and Rowen. &quot;I guess our pen pal wanted all the help they could get.&quot; He pulled out his own letter and turned to Willowdean, twirling the card between his fingers. &quot;Hey kid, anyone you know by the name of 'Red'?&quot; Each letter had been signed with the alias. <span class="time">-02:33 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> Willowdean held Parker in her flat gaze. Her hair was a golden rat's nest, barely held back by a piece of twine, there was dirt under her fingernails, smearing her bare legs, and staining her red hoodie. Willowdean took a long slurp of her cherry drink. &quot;Ya'll big city detective types ain't at all what I 'spectin.&quot; <span class="time">-02:37 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> His ears perked up as the child spoke. &quot;Detective types? Kid's sharp crayon.&quot; Rowen had grown for a more...Rural friendly look, sporting Camo capri pants and a shirt with a picture of some blue collared comedian's catch phrase, both things he bought at the local reststop, part of his being 'in character'. &quot;You know our mysterious friend, Red, I presume?&quot; <span class="time">-02:42 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;I believe she <i>is</i> our mysterious friend, Red.&quot; Tamara gave up on trying to open her beer. Leaning forward over the bar to peer past Parker. The girl was practically painted red from head to toe. She couldn't have made herself more obvious! <span class="time">-02:43 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> Willow popped a cherry into her mouth, chewed, grinned at Rowen. &quot;Yeah, I am pretty bright, I reckon'. I can even write letters, all by myself.&quot; <span class="time">-02:45 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;So far, I like the lady with the neat hairdo.&quot; She added flatly, before ordering another Shirley. <span class="time">-02:46 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> <i>A kid? Really? How did a kid in some backwater town find the mailing addresses of three private detectives?</i> Parker turned on his stool to look down at Willowdean. He waved the letter at her. &quot;Pretty good. I suppose the money you promised is in your piggy bank?&quot; <span class="time">-02:46 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;Ah've got the money I promised. It don't matter none where I keep it.&quot; Willowdean sucked on her icecube. <span class="time">-02:48 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;I am more interested in the reason why you invited more than one of us, now... It must be a pretty important reason.&quot; Very important or very strange. Tamara could remember when she was younger, making up all kinds of crazy things private investigators hunted down. Reality wasn't ever so interesting! <span class="time">-02:50 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> It was a bit obvious now that he put things in perspective, even though having a child as the person who sent them all letters was a bit out of left field. But there was a reason why he was an actor and not the detective. But all he had to do was pretend he was an detective. He didn't need to solve what ever mystery that drove everyone here, he just need some background for acting experiences. &quot;You gonna spill on why a kid would need the help of three grown ups, tyke?&quot; <span class="time">-02:50 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Having served the drinks, Stilts the barman moved away. He leant on the other side of the bar and continued his conversation with a half-conscious old woman who was nursing a glass of gin <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;Mah' name, Mister, is Willowdean,&quot; the ice in her glass clinked when she turned to face Rowen. A shriveled, dead leaf had fallen from her hair, onto the wet bar. &quot;And I need your help because there's someone takin' my friends.&quot; Her voice quavered for a moment, before she regained control of her wits. &quot;Takin' my friends into the woods. Killin' 'em, like animals.&quot; <span class="time">-02:56 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;And if you don't help me, he's gonna kill me, too.&quot; <span class="time">-02:57 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> That was the last thing Tamara was expecting, and the look of shock on her face proved it. Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she took another examining look of the girls. How disheveled she was, dirty. And certainly not with that little gleam most girls got when they were playing a grand joke. &quot;...and where are you parents, sweetie? And the police? Something like this is definitely something important for the police.&quot; <span class="time">-03:00 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Courrier New,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> [Allison ] <span class="time">-03:01 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> She had been offered a job. One that would pay. Immediately, she had accepted, and prepared. She had not anticipated the traffic, and swore under her breath constantly as she drove there. She parked the car and entered the bar, her cool gray eyes surveying the room, trying to place the employer. She wondered if the employer had gotten bored from the wait and left. “Another lost job. God dammit.” She mumbled to herself, deciding she needed a drink and sitting at the bar, where about four others sat. <span class="time">-03:01 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"There ain't gonna be no police!" shrieked a voice. Coming through the diner door, shortly after Alison, an old lady shambled in. She was wrapped in a shoal and stooped over, smelling of pigswill and cabbages. She looked like some of the other patrons, inbred and ugly. She must have been well into her eighties, but still had some fire in her bones. "Willowdean, ah'm gonna tan yer hide for this!" The old lady grabbed the girl and started hoisting her off the seat. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> <font size=1>[Parker is now known as: Willowdean]</font> <span class="time">-03:08 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Rowan slightly tilts his head, trying to take it all in. &quot;So you write up a Crime novelist and expect him to come down and solve your case?&quot; He shrugged as he continued eating his steak. &quot;Sorry, but J.O. was too busy to make it. Sent me though. I'm a...Student of his.&quot; It wasn't as glamorous to say that he was his assistant or even worse that he was J.O.'s nephew, so he pulled something out of his ass. &quot;I've been with him as the NYPD consulted his help with alot of their murder and cold cases, so I know a good detail on profiling these type of people.&quot; He wasn't all the way lying with that. He was studying pretty intensely on serial killers and their thought process for an upcoming role. <span class="time">-03:08 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;But Gran'ma!&quot; the girl protested. &quot;Ah was jus' tryin' to...&quot; <span class="time">-03:08 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"Enough of yer tall tales!" snapped Willowdean's grandmother and continued yanking her. The girl fell out of her seat and the cocktail she was drinking spilled all over her. <span class="time">-Willowdean</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;Woah!&quot; said Parker as some of the drink spilled on his jeans. &quot;Take it easy, maam!&quot; <span class="time">-03:10 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara slipped out of her seat, moving around Parker's chair to lay a hand on the woman's arm. &quot;Wait a moment! IS it a tall tale? I mean, she did make a pretty big show of inviting us here, and kids don't usually go doing crazy stuff like that.&quot; <span class="time">-03:11 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The grandmother paid him no notice then pulled her arm away from Tamara. "This ain't none of yer business! She been a liar and a devil's child all 'er life!" She glared down at her grand-daughter, whose dress was now soaked in Shirley Temple. "Now lookit what yer done! Get yerself cleaned up, girl! And take of that lipstick off! Yer look like a whore!" <span class="time">-Willowdean</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FF0000; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> &quot;Yes, gran'ma,&quot; said Willowdean sadly as she turned and went back to the bathroom, leaving the detectives alone with the old woman. <span class="time">-03:14 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"You best go back where ye came from!" the old woman snapped at Tamara and Parker. "The girl likes to play games, she does. Ain't bin right since her parents died. 'S no wonder her friends ain't playin' wiv 'er no more!" <span class="time">-Willowdean</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>At the bar, Stilts chuckled along with the other patrons, gold fillings glinting between his teeth. <span class="time">-Willowdean</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara glanced around at all the faces in the bar. None of them looked at all concerned about the girl, or her claim that her friends were being killed. If there were dead children nearby, surely they'd belong to someone in town and they would be concerned. &quot;I see. ...That's too bad then. My condolences.&quot; <span class="time">-03:17 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> She watched as an old woman randomly came in to take a young girl whom sat only a few seats away from her. She knit her eyebrows in confusion at what was going on, all she could figure out was that there was a lying little girl, with tall tales whom attracted these other people at the bar, and that a Shirley Temple now stained the clothing of others. &quot;What the f- Fudge?&quot; She corrected herself, not wanting a smack from this viscious grandmother in case she was not approving of swears around her grand-daughter. <span class="time">-03:20 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>"Lady's got a point," Stilts said as he eyed them from the bar. "I think it's best your strangers be leavin' now." His gold-ringed fingers drummed on the counter. <span class="time">-Willowdean</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Rowan finished off the rest of his steak, wipsing the small amounts of Country Gravy from his face as he glanced over to his compatriots. &quot;So...Is the story true? Kids getting killed and like?&quot; <span class="time">-03:22 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Willowdean: </span> Parker tried to reason with the old woman. &quot;You grand daughter told us her friends have gone missing. Out in the woods? Why would she make up something like that?&quot; <span class="time">-03:23 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> Her ears perked at the one man's words. &quot;Children? Being killed?&quot; Was this the mysterious job she had been offered? Did he know who this employer was? Her eyes fell on the pre-adolencent girl, wondering if a child had applied for her services. &quot;Your friends are dying?&quot; <span class="time">-03:24 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Something didn't sit right with Tamara, but it was nothing she could put her finger on. While the two men ask the questions, she was watching the expressions of the other people in the bar for anything that might've sparked that feeling. The new lady in the bar must have been another invited by Willowdean. ...How many detectives did the girl invite, for something that allegedly was just lies! <span class="time">-03:25 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>Willowdean had already entered the bathroom to get herself cleaned up. In her absence her grandmother waved her hand dismissively at Allison and Rowen. "Enough! The girl's a storyteller and a sinner, jus' like all 'er friends! They 'ave the devil in 'em! Be off with you!" <span class="time">-Willowdean</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> <font size=1>[Willowdean is now known as: Parker]</font> <span class="time">-03:26 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>A sudden scream split the air. It came from the bathroom, and was followed by the din of shattering glass. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The grandmother stopped mid-rant and turned to stare at the bathroom door. Her face went pale. "W..Willow...?" <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> So the child was her employer. She was ready to give a reply to the old woman, probably swear-filled this time due to the child's absence, when the scream reached her ears. &quot;What the hell?&quot; <span class="time">-03:30 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;She might be trying to run away. Is that the bathroom?&quot; Tamara asked quickly as she pointed towards the door, already rushing towards it. <span class="time">-03:32 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker's pistol was drawn, the Smith and Wesson glinting in the morning light. He was the first to act after Tamara. He rushed past the old woman and threw open the door of the bathroom. There was a crunch as his boots stepped on broken glass. <span class="time">-03:32 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> The window was shattered. The tap was running. A scrap of Willowdean's dress was caught on the windowsill. And the girl was gone. <span class="time">-03:34 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> No way in hell was she not getting in on whatever was happening. This was part of her job, afterall. After the initial shock passed, she jumped up from the barstool, glad she had not yet ordered and paid for a drink, and ran after the other two, following them into the washroom. Thhe girl was gone, just bits and pieces left of the disappearance. Her eyes were whide with confusion, but her mouth was in a grim line. She would not let a child dissapear like this. <span class="time">-03:36 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara stopped behind Parker, hovering in the bathroom's doorway. &quot;Willowdean?&quot; Calling the same of someone who clearly wasn't there was out of habit. Tamara turned back, passing Allison as she stalked to the room and paused in front of the old woman. &quot;She's gone! Right out the window, and I doubt she got out it by herself. Are you still going to tell us nothing is going on here?&quot; Her hands were on her hips again, and now she was staring down the others in the room. &quot;ANYONE going to tell me the truth here?&quot; <span class="time">-03:38 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The barman, Stilts, had come out from behind the bar. Upon seeing the shattered glass the old woman wailed and began to drop. Stilts caught her, then held her as she sobbed into his arms. "They've took her!" she cried. "They've took my Willow! Oh God!!!" <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker gripped the sill of the window and hoisted himself up a little, peering out through the shattered pane. Beyond the window was the thick and gloomy woods that covered the Ozark mountainside, sloping up into the mists. It was the opposite direction from town. Whoever had taken Willowdean had taken her into the forest. <span class="time">-03:40 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> This was happening so fast, Rowan was barely all his feet before all the commotion seem to explode out of nowhere. &quot;So... It was true?&quot; He decided to put his acting chops to the test as he grabbed the old lady. &quot;Everything you know. THe childern. Who might be doing this. Why. Spill. Now.&quot; <span class="time">-03:44 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> &quot;WEll. There is no point in standing around like a bunch of shock-struck idiots.&quot; Allison barked to the others. &quot;So if anyone wants to help find this little girl, put your God-damned buts in gear and let's try and get her. First, Grams, you spill the beans and tell us what the hell is going on.&quot; One who knew Allison would wonder why she would be sticking her neck out for a stranger, and work with other detectives without payment, but these people did not know that of her. Thankfully. If anyone asked, well, she just wanted to help. <span class="time">-03:45 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Stilts put his hand on Rowen's shoulder as the detective tried to manhandle the old woman. The gold rings on the barman's hand dug into Rowen's skin. "Back the fuck off, city boy!" <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"Nooo! I raised her good! I raised her Christian-like. The ain't no right to take her!" The grandmother was hysterical now, dropping to her knees and Rowen and Stilts faced off. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;Time is of the essence here!&quot; The old woman was hysterical, and it looked like the locals weren't going to trust them at all. Tamara dug in to her coat pocket to pull out her cell phone. &quot;What's the local police station's number? I'm going to call the authorities.&quot; Tamara pressed several buttons on her phone, but she wasn't getting a signal or a dial tone at all. ...there wasn't any service out here in the country! &quot;My phone's not working. Where is the phone here?&quot; <span class="time">-03:49 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Courrier New,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> [Parker enters.] <span class="time">-03:52 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> <font size=1 face=verdana>[<font color=red>Parker</font> ]</font> <span class="time">-03:52 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Rowan is a bit shaken as the man placed his hand on his shoulder. &quot;Uhh...&quot; He faulter alittle bit, letting his nerves take over him. He collected himself quickly. &quot;You have to tell us what we're missing here! It's not you or her that are in danger, but a child! A little girl! Your anger and distrust are misplaced! We need your help so we can save that little girl!&quot; He tried his best not to smirk as he thought he followed up that line pretty convincingly <span class="time">-03:53 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker holstered his pistol and turned from the window, a bead of sweat already on his brow. He couldn't walk away from this. He had seen the look in Willowdean's eyes when she spoke of her friends. Something was happening here, and the innocent were suffering. He started back across the washroom, drawn by the sounds of Rowen's shouting. Then he stopped. The towel dispenser had been ripped from the wall during the struggle, and amongst the scattered towels was a card. It matched the ones that Willowdean had written the letters on. <span class="time">-03:55 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> &quot;Look Miss, you don't want that little girl's blood on your hands now, do you? She's your family for Christ's sake. It would not be a pleasant thing to have.&quot; Her eyes bore on the elderly woman. &quot;Just tell us what you know, if you want your grand-daughter safe.&quot; <span class="time">-03:55 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Stilts helped the old woman to a seat and glared at the detectives. "Get the hell outta my diner. I'll call the Sherriff myself. He'll be here before noon. This ain't none of your business now." <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara had a few unpleasant words for these people, but they were already being difficult and that would no doubt make it worse. She strode over to the bar, snatching her scarf off it. But instead of heading out the door, she headed back to the bathroom. &quot;They aren't answering any questions about the girl, but they seem to think someone out-right took her. No one is even making a move to go out and look for her.&quot; Tamara paused, seeing the card in Parker's hand. &quot;Was that left in here?&quot; <span class="time">-04:01 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker glanced up at Tamara, then turned the card over in his hand. It was a drawing, done in red lipstick. It was a picture of a sloping house, surrounded by trees, with mountains in the background. &quot;I think Willowdean drew this.&quot; <span class="time">-04:06 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> Allison frowned. &quot;How could she draw this when during an abduction? She must of somehow known of this before hand... But how the hell did she?&quot; She questionned, looking at the red picture. She cast a disgusted look at the barman and the grandmother, who couldn't help them. No, wouldn't help them. <span class="time">-04:12 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;She really likes stating the obvious, doesn't she... &quot; Tamara stepped over to the window, leaning up on her toes to peer out. She could barely see anything beyond the trees with how dark it had gotten already. &quot;If the picture is as obvious as she is, it might be somewhere local. We could form a search party. ...I'm not sure if any of the locals are going to give us a straight answer about where it might be.&quot; <span class="time">-04:13 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"Them woods, it is!" cried the old woman as she wept. "They take the young'uns, the sinners!" Some of the other customers were already leaving, while others turned away. They knew what the old woman spoke of, but there was apathy in their eyes. Apathy and fear. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Who takes them into the woods, lady?&quot; He stares at her with enough conviction in his eyes to win an oscar. &quot;Who's taking them into the woods?&quot; <span class="time">-04:14 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;Monsters and spirits!&quot; The old woman suddenly lunged and grabbed Rowen's sleeve. Her old face was streaked with tears. &quot;Yer a good man, ain't ye? You'll find mah little Willow, get them back from the spirits! Please! Ah'm begging yer!&quot; <span class="time">-04:17 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Stilts returned to the bar and picked up the phone, rolex glinting as he dialled. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> Spirits? Allison frowned, she was no believer of spirits and ghost tales. She used to adore telling them, long ago, but that had changed for ever. Now she scoffed at them, never paying them heed. &quot;We'll try and find your Willow.&quot; She told the old woman in the most comforting tone she could muster, which still wasn't very warm. She looked at the one woman, Tamara, although she didn't know the name. &quot;That might be it. But everyone seems to say it's the woods. We should probably start there.&quot; <span class="time">-04:25 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara wound her scarf around her neck as she re-entered the room. &quot;Monsters and spirits don't generally kidnap little girls in the modern day. But we can go searching for her right now, if we have an idea where to go. Do you know of a slopped house anywhere near here out in the woods? And is there anyone willing to help go and search for her?&quot; People were leaving! Fleeing the scene when they should be here wanting to find that girl, or the very least help answer questions! <span class="time">-04:26 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> There was no eye-contact, let alone eye-contact from the other patrons, and Stilts was busy talking on the phone. Parker came out of the washroom and moved past Tamara. &quot;We're wasting time. I've got some gear in my car. Let's go.&quot; He headed out of the door, stopping only to glance at the old woman, to see the pain in her eyes, as he had seen in Willowdean's. <span class="time">-04:28 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Monster and spirits? Interesting angle. Didn't think the bible belt still believe in things like that still. &quot;We have to go help her. She did send for us after all.&quot; He nodded at Parker's offer, but stopped. &quot;We gotta know where to go first before we start charging in. That forest could spand out for miles for all we know.&quot; <span class="time">-04:30 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;If this has happened multiple times before, there might be trails followed in the woods.&quot; Tamara also thought it was better to at least have an idea of the direction, but it was also true that the longer they took, the more grim the outcome could be. She followed behind Parker, inwardly grumbling that she should have worn something more forest-friendly than heeled boots. <span class="time">-04:33 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker opened the trunk of his car, unzipping a sports bag. He handed out flashlights, pocketted a leatherman's knife, and donned a pair of gloves. &quot;We'll check round the back. See if there's any glass fragments or trails from the washroom window.&quot; <span class="time">-04:35 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> She sighed and followed after the others, figuring they would not refuse volunteered help. She puzzled over everything in her mind. Perhaps a satanistic cult of some sort? That kidnapped virgin little girls or something? That one was a long-shot, so she tried a different angle. Maybe the kidnappers simply passed themselves off as Spirits and such, just so that the locals didn't bother them. many more possible scenarios ran through her head, but it was obvious that they had been waiting for Willow. How else could they operate the kidnapping with such perfect timing. She accepted what the one man handed out silently, ready. <span class="time">-04:37 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;My name is Tamara Sparrow.&quot; she stated while he riffled through the drunk. She did raise an eyebrow at his equiptment. This was a man who must of had very complex cases. Most of her work consisted on hunting down cheating spouses or stolen property. Tamara pulled out her phone again, checking to see if she could get any bars again as she flicked on the flashlight and started walking for the back of the building. &quot;Everyone in the bar looked terrified. They were definitely lying about not knowing what the girl was talking about.&quot; <span class="time">-04:39 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Whoa... That Detective guy was armed pretty well... All he had was... Well his wallet... Maybe I pod. The case was sturdy enough to fling at someone without it breaking...Too much much. He should have been excited as they got out the diner, he was very excited to get some background for this character...But things were getting to be too real for him. He was so tempted to break character. &quot;Uhhh...I...&quot; No! DO good actors give up when the role they are assigned are difficult ones? No! If he wanted to break out in show business, he had to have some real depth and handle on emotions. What else is a better chance to develop those while actually searching in the woods at night for a missing girl. &quot;I guess I haven't introduce myself as well... Rowen, Rowen Bramble. You got a spare piece in there, hot shot. I didn't expect things to heat up so fast so I left mine back at the hotel.&quot; <span class="time">-04:41 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker held Rowen's gaze for a few moments, then reached down and pulled a smaller pistol from his ankle holster. He passed it to the man, then strapped a water bottle to his belt. It would have to be enough for all four of them. &quot;Dean Parker, private detective.&quot; Locking his car, he followed after Tamara and stood with her outside the washroom window. Glass fragments were sprinkled across the rough ground and the back of the diner, and less than twenty feet away the Batesville Forest began. Some of the branches had been pushed aside - a trail hurriedly cleared into the gloom. <span class="time">-04:45 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #0AF0AC; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> (I'll return in a minute) <span class="time">-04:47 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: "Verdana",verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> <font size=1 face=verdana>[<font color=red>Allison</font> logged out of the chat.]</font> <span class="time">-((04:48 Jan 21))</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;A man who likes the classic line, Mr. Parker?&quot; she joked, though her expression was serious as she shined her flashlight across the ground. &quot;...they didn't even try to hide their direction.&quot; That made her worry. Tamara didn't have a gun, and nor was she one of those kick boxing high action detectives that they liked to feature in movies. Still, she was following the glass towards the trees, occasionally taking a glance at her phone in hopes reception would come in and she could call the police. Something about the townspeople had her thinking that no one else was going to bother. <span class="time">-04:49 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;Towns like this,&quot; said Parker as he followed Tamara, &quot;Things get lost. Secrets get buried. They probably don't know the full story, only the pieces of superstition and rumour. I think they truly believe what the old lady said, that there's monsters in the woods. But I don't. Willowdean drew a house. She must have been to that house before. She must know what's happening here. That's why she tracked down every private detective she could find.&quot; <span class="time">-04:51 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He tried to think like the characters in his uncle's books as he clutched the gun tightly inbetween his hands, trying to best to fit in the puzzle that was left for them to figure out. &quot;Uhh...&quot; He tried to piece together what the old man he was talking to earlier said about the woods. &quot;...Empty School!&quot; The information the old man blathered on about seem to come in handy at the moment as Parker mentioned the house. &quot;There is an old abandoned school house in the forest that was used and forgotten after the early frontier days. With all the childern being dragged out into the woods, it's too big of a coincidence not to check out that abandon school house!&quot; <span class="time">-04:53 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Courrier New,verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> [Allison returns] <span class="time">-04:55 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;A schoolhouse...&quot; Parker muttered, looking to Rowen. It made sense. His flashlight fell upon the edge of the forest, where the girl's kidnapper had rushed through. Some of the branches had been sliced clean away, the thick wood cut in a single stroke. <span class="time">-04:56 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;I don't remember being that smart when I was a kid.&quot; Tamara had the urge to call out the girl's name, hoping that perhaps the girl had struggled and managed to escape out in to the woods somewhere. She kept following the path on the path blazenly trekked through the woods. Occasionally flicking her flashlight off towards the trees around them to see if they spotted anything else. &quot;In places like this, there's always lots of old buildings left derelict out in the woods. Towns grew up and died off so quickly when settlers were moving west.&quot; <span class="time">-04:58 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker shone his flashlight back at Allison. &quot;You coming?&quot; <span class="time">-05:00 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Even with the security of the gun in his hands, Rowen found himself becoming more and more unnevrved as the thought of moving deeper into the trees and further away from the sparce civilization that was offered was becoming real. &quot;You... You don't think all the childern who are dragged into the wood are killed do you?&quot; His facdade cracked abit as reality settled in. &quot;Maybe it was just kids getting lose in the woods and bible thumpers equating it into demons... Maybe the kid just had a big imagination and this is all a show for attention...&quot; He almost seemed to try to find ways to avoid having to search for the child. <span class="time">-05:04 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;It crossed my mind,&quot; Parker answered as he swept his flashlight through the oppressive, twisted woods. &quot;A little girl gets bored of life in Batesville, so starts playing on her grandmother's superstition. Then she break the washroom window and screams before jumping out and running into the woods. Maybe Willowdean and her friends have some kind of hideout out here.&quot; <span class="time">-05:10 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #ffffff; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> &quot;Of course I'm coming,&quot; She grumbled, the first words she said in a small bit of time. The fear, the confusement, and the other whirlwind of emotions had kept her tongue heavy, and she had remained silent.She eyes Rowen. “Yeah, they might die. That’s always a possibility. Also why we are tryiung to hurry this through.” <span class="time">-05:11 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;I could barely climb my way out of that window, I am not so sure that girl could do it herself. She'd definitely need help...&quot; She paused, casting a grimacing look over her shoulder at the others behind her. &quot;Can we at least hope there aren't any dead children out here? I don't think my heart can take it! I'd like to think she's alive and well, if a little scared, until proven otherwise...&quot; This was why she was a private detective and not a cop. Cases like this were too much... but they were here now, and she wasn't dare going to abandon that girl now. <span class="time">-05:14 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;If it's true... if these girls have lost their lives out here... we'll make them answer for it.&quot; Parker's words were spoke quietly, and his eyes were distant. The detective stopped to examine another tree on the trail. The branch had been torn right off, the cut smooth and straight. It was almost like a giant claw had done it. <span class="time">-05:18 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Why?&quot; It was a rather dumb question. Why does anyone do anything they do? It was always a much mroe complicated answer than just 'they are bad people' or 'they hate kids', and was the essence he wanted to understand. The drive to why, if someone was killing the kids, they weould be such monsters. It was almost fascinating a morbid way. <span class="time">-05:20 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Why, in the middle of BUmfuck no where, where everyone know everyone, would some jerkass want to kill kids?&quot; <span class="time">-05:21 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> If they kept on talking like that girl and tons of children were already dead, Tamara was going to start tearing up. She focused on the trail and making sure not to break an ankle in those damn boots of hers. &quot;It looks like a chainsaw or something has gone through ripping up trees...&quot; Forest investigating wasn't exactly her specialty. But it was pretty clear something had cut through limbs with really clean swipes and a chainsaw was the best she could think of. Behind them, there wasn't even the lights of the bar anymore. <span class="time">-05:26 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Tamara had barely finished speaking when she looked ahead again and the flashlight illuminated something only a few feet from her face. It was the head of a wolf, jaws wide, eyes staring right at her. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker cursed and brought his gun and flashlight up, staring at the wolf's pelt that had been nailed to a tree. <span class="time">-05:32 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;Fuck!&quot; <span class="time">-05:32 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> The first thing Tamara did when she finally got a good look at the thing, was shriek! She dropped her flashlight and her phone in the process. Slapping her hands up over her mouth to silence herself. &quot;...what the... What is that..!&quot; she breathed between her fingers, barely recognizing the thing as a wolf or a dog. <span class="time">-05:34 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Holy s-&quot; He could barely finish as the putrid odor invaded his sense, nearly choking him. It just smelt awful, like rotting meat, but much much stronger. &quot;Jeezus...&quot; <span class="time">-05:37 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00FF66; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Allison: </span> She was ready to mumble a half-hearted reply, to engrossed in whatwas happening all around them, to really pay attention to the words of others. But that wolf, it brought her to full awareness, and she pulled out her gun out as well. &quot;What the fuck is that doing here?&quot; <span class="time">-05:39 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker stepped in front of Tamara and shone his flashlight over the pelt. It was a mountain wolf - a big one - and it had been driven into the tree with a stake. It was made to face down the trail, towards town. Clearly it was put here to scare people away. Parker's flashlight drifted further down the trail, where he saw another pelt hanging over a low branch. <span class="time">-05:40 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>And there... beyond the second pelt... something was silhouetted against the sky. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> This was bad. Like Chainsaw Masscare Bikini Party 3: Revenge of Blubberface bad. He wanted to cut and run, if things were going to escalate from this point on, he may not have a chance later. But this was for character! This is what seperates hacks from talent! If he could keep his composure here, he could do it anywhere! &quot;I guess we don't have to be worrying about building a house full of sticks around here anymore.&quot; <span class="time">-05:44 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;Christ, that startled the daylights out of me! I can see why they're terrified of the woods.&quot; Her voice was still breathy, but she was alright now. Tamara stooped down to retrieve her phone and flashlight. She paused with a frown, seeing something glitter under the light. Tamara brushed away the leaves and dirt, picking up a small gold chain with a girl's name in little blocks. &quot;...There's definitely been children out here. This is too small to be an adults...&quot; She held it up. <span class="time">-05:46 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker moved ahead, coming to the next tree. He moved the wolf pelt aside and peered ahead. The <a href='http://cowetafayetteinfo.com/image_store/uploads/7/4/7/0/7/ar132240367970747.jpg' title='http://cowetafayetteinfo.com/image_store/uploads/7/4/7/0/7/ar132240367970747.jpg' target='_blank'>schoolhouse</a> was on the mountainside, surrounded by trees, its wood rotten and its windows covered in grime. The building was falling apart, and all around it were burnt out cars and empty oil barrels. The place was desolate. <span class="time">-05:50 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Did this used to be a town?&quot; With all the blathering the old man talked about, he wouldn't even imagine that 'junk and other bullshit' would equated to such a dilapidated wasteland. What was this place before, seriously? He clutched his gun extra tight, his finger ready to pull the trigger at any sign of danger. <span class="time">-05:56 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: "Verdana",verdana,serif; color: #FFFFFF; background-color: #000000;"><span class="username"> </span> <font size=1 face=verdana>[<font color=red>Allison</font> logged out of the chat.]</font> <span class="time">-((05:59 Jan 21))</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara had the bracelet slipped in to her pocket, along with her phone that she finally quick checking for bars. The run down place did seem sort of creepy, but she was silently reminding herself that this was reality and nothing wilder than some dead animals was going to happen. She just prayed there wasn't anyone dead nearby. She was extra careful where she was walking now, holding her flashlight with both hands as they approached the property. &quot;I don't see any light in the house.&quot; <span class="time">-06:00 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Suddenly Parker turned and grabbed Tamara, pulling her into the undergrowth. &quot;Down!&quot; he hissed, switching off his flashlight. Up ahead something was approaching, coming round the side of the house and into the yard. <span class="time">-06:04 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara hide her flashlight under her coat, before thinking to actually turn it off. There was a sharp twinge of fear in her stomach, but there was also that insane sense of curiosity and the thrill of of their hunt. Balancing on a knee, she squinted through the dark trying to see who was coming. <span class="time">-06:07 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>It was a wolf... walking upright... <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>It carried an axe <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He knew how to follow cues and that is just what he did, he dove into the brush, gripping tightly against the gun as he was seperated from the two detectives. His heart raced as sweat furiously beaded from his brow. All the terror in his stomach. All the doubt he felt for even attempt to do this. All mind numbing terror that made his knees weak. THIS WAS AMAZING! He never so alive before in his life! <span class="time">-06:10 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker tried to adjust his nightvision, to make out the form of the creature. Everything was wrong. It was like reality had distorted. A wolf was walking upright and wielding an axe. He watched it start to drag out logs from the woodpile, ready to chop. <span class="time">-06:11 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Then he saw Werewolves carrying around axes and nearly shitted his pants. <span class="time">-06:11 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The man adjusted his wolf pelt cloak and set the first log on the chopping block. He was large, muscular, almost seven foot in height. He lifted the axe in both hands and chopped the first log. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> She very nearly screamed again! Having to clamp her hands over her mouth to silence herself. That couldn't be right. It was dark out. She could barely see as it was, and the atmosphere of the place was suggestivly creepy. Tamara leaned to whisper to Parker. &quot;...it's... it's not really a wolf. ...Right?&quot; She had to ask just to be sure. The movements were far too human and it looked like he had adjusted his skin... &quot;...a trapper, maybe?&quot; <span class="time">-06:14 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He regretted not leaping unto the undergrowth with the other two now as the Wolf Axeman was much closer to him than the other two. <span class="time">-06:15 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>There was a noise from inside - almost unheard, but unmistakeable. It was a young girl's cry. The trapper glanced at the schoolhouse then went back to chopping the wood. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker's hand tightened around his pistol. &quot;She's in there.&quot; He watched the wolf-man's axe cleave through the logs. &quot;He's the one who took her...&quot; <span class="time">-06:19 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara could feel a lump in her throat. This was <i>horrible</i>, but she couldn't break down in to a puddle of tears now, when the situation was so serious. She swallowed. &quot;If you and Mr. Bramble cover him with the gun, I could go in and get her. Or just distract him somehow.&quot; <span class="time">-06:21 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Okay, this is where he proves himself, where he makes its or breaks it. He would have to take all the influences he has read from his uncle's books and inprovise here. He would roll out, guns blazing at the Wolf guy, maybe miss acouple of time, struggle around with him after his weapon gets knocked away, almost get over powered, then sucker punch him, then roll to the gun and shoot him in the face. Yeah. That was going to be the plan. &quot;...&quot; Well, it seemed alot easier in his head. Now that he actually was going to have to try to do that, he found his legs to be lead like in their heaviness. <span class="time">-06:22 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker glanced at her. She wasn't like him... she wasn't a killer. But like him she had her heart where it mattered. She would go the distance for this kid - he could see that. &quot;Alright.&quot; He handed her the leatherman's knife. &quot;We'll distract him. You find the girls.&quot; <span class="time">-06:23 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> The knife in her hand felt so heavy, no just from weight, but with the thought she might actually need to use it. Tamara took a deep breath, nodding at Parker as she slowly tip-toed her way through the bushes, trying to stay out of sight as she inched her way to a closer position near the house. Her heart was beating so hard, she was glad the man masked the sound with his wood chopping. <span class="time">-06:27 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker crawled through the long grass towards Rowen. &quot;Okay, Tamara's going to get inside. We need to...&quot; He stopped, glancing round. &quot;Shit, where's Allison?&quot; <span class="time">-06:30 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He took in a deep breath and double clutched the gun, trying to hone in his sights on the large man in wolf clothing. He's fire guns before, on the range with his Uncle. This isn't hard at all. He should be able to do this. All he had to do was breath in and press the trigger. &quot;...&quot; He found it hard to look at somone as he pointed a gun at them, even this monster of a man, so he closed his eyes, the sweat and nerve getting to him. &quot;Just...Pull...&quot; He held his breath and <i>CLICK</i> <span class="time">-06:31 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> <b><i>BANG</b></i> <span class="time">-06:33 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The bullet struck one of the logs, spraying wood splinters. The wolf-man turned, the axe in his hand, bloodshot eyes locking on the two detectives. He started charging, coming directly towards them. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Rowen's itchy trigger finger, sent the loud sound of a gunshot ringing in to the night! Once the trapper's eyes were away from the house, Tamara ran towards it. She only gave a brief glance over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't been seen, as she practically crashed in to the front door. It wasn't locked, so slipping inside and shutting the door behind her was easy. She spun back around to face the room and start searching. <span class="time">-06:38 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;Shit!&quot; Parker hissed, coming up onto his knees. He took stance and levelled his pistol, breathing out as he squeezed the trigger. A bullet tore into the wolf-man's shoulder but did not slow his charge. The axe lashed out and sliced Parker's gun hand, knocking him and the pistol aside. Parker crashed into the undergrowth, leaving Rowen alone with towering trapper. <span class="time">-06:39 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Holy shit!&quot; He panic, his arms wavering as his nerves got the best of him, forcing him to fire wildly into the man's general direction, his aim as steady as a three legged chair whole up a fat man in an earthquake. 'SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!&quot; <span class="time">-06:39 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Tamara could hear crying... a child's tears. Beyond the porch was a long hallway with splintered boards, the wallpaper peeling, pictures hanging from the wall. Rats skittered away as she took her first step. The house smelled of stale food and dead things. And at the far end of the hallway, she could see light coming from a half-open doorway. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The bullet missed the wolf man. He brought his axe down at Rowen, the blade ready to slice clean through his bones. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Rats...! It had to be rats! A murderer in a wolf pelt was bad enough, but here she had to face rats too. Near trembling, Tamara reminded herself a girl's life was at stake. With trepidation she moved forward. Squeuzing the handle of the knife until her knuckles had turn white. The sudden gunshots outside sent her propelling forward, running towards the crying and rushing through the half-opened door. <span class="time">-06:44 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Tamara stumbled on something. She looked down as she entered the room. There was hair. A long tail of braided hair. It ran the length of the room... a massive ponytail of braided hair, running all the way to the child who sat in the corner with her back to Tamara. She must have been growing the hair for ages. She was huddled by the fire, weeping softly. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker pulled himself up on a tree. He was bleeding, his forearm sliced by the axe. He pulled out his water bottle, dousing the wound in water, pulling back his sleeve. Then he heard Rowen's struggle with the wolf man. He gripped his gun and turned to run to Rowen's aid, when suddenly a fist collided with his face. He fell down, clutching the his face, that now carried the imprint of gold rings. <span class="time">-06:48 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> HE could feel tears running down his face as he saw his fraile mortality flash before his eyes. The weight of his body on his legs becoming too heavy to endure as he found himself toppling backwards, the blade of the axe slice through the thin skin of his face, leaving behind a trail of blood as the momentum made the blade glance off his face, only managing a shallow wound before slipping off. Wincing in pain as he still was falling, his finger slipped against the trigger, letting out a point blank roar against the chest of the beastly man. <span class="time">-06:49 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>"I told you to leave!" grinned Stilts, his gold fillings glinting in the beam of the flashlight. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;What is...&quot; The hair didn't make any sense, but Tamara didn't have time to investigate it now. She stepped over it, circling the room until she could be face to face with the girl. &quot;Hey, sweetie.. don't cry.. someone is here to help you now!&quot; <span class="time">-06:50 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The wolf man bucked, reeling a few steps, his bloodshot eyes glaring furiously at Rowen. He tried to lift the axe, his body twitching with the effort. Then suddenly he froze and tipped forward. Rowen rolled to one side as the trapper crashed down into the grass, blood leaking out from the chest wound. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The girl's laughter distorted, turning into a shrill peel of laughter. The girl's hand came up and peeled off the wig, let the dozens of braided hair-pieces falls to the floor. The figure turned and Tamara screamed as an shrivelled old face looked up at her. It was a midget woman, dressed in little girl's clothing. She snarled and came running at Tamara, a butcher's cleaver in her hand. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;Nice bling, Stilts,&quot; Parker said, spitting blood as he got up to face the barman. &quot;You and your friends make a good profit here, huh? Paedophile rings? Snuff movies? Blackmail!&quot; He tried to find his gun, but it was lost in the grass. <span class="time">-06:54 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Rowen struggled to catch his breath, feeling like his heart was going to explode right there in his chest, the stinging pain of his forehead just a minor annoyance as the most magnificant high coursed through his body. He. He just killed man. Killed a man who was about to kill him. His body went numb as the beast laid next to him, his dying breaths up against his ear. Dear god... THIS WAS THE BEST ACTING EXPERINCE OF ALL TIME! <span class="time">-06:55 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Stilts drove his first into Parker's stomach, dropping him again. "My name..." the old man snickered as he kicked Parker in the ribs. "...is Rumplestiltskin." <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara's throat was becoming hoarse with as much screaming as she was doing tonight! She was still screaming, even as she dodged the old woman's first swing of the cleaver and went in a wild stumble back towards the door she came in! &quot;Willow..! ANYONE HERE!?&quot; She shrieked, still trying to see if there was any sign of missing girls as she almost tripped over the long braid of hair again. <span class="time">-06:56 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!” shrieked the old midget as she chased Tamara into the hallway. The cleaver swung, slicing the back of Tamara's calf, and as she dropped the old woman got on top of her, clawing at her scalp. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker tried to roll over, to reach for his gun, to find his flashlight. But all was pain and darkness. Stilts was kneeling on him, pummelling his face with his gold-ringed fist. <span class="time">-07:00 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> This time Tamara didn't even scream in pain as she hit the floor and woman clawed at her. Just a choked cry as she through up her arms trying to block the woman's hands from her. It was by sheer accident that the knife in her came slashing past the woman's face! &quot;GET OFF ME! BRAMBLE! <i>PARKER</i>!&quot; she shriked, praying the two hadn't been the ones shot outside! <span class="time">-07:01 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He was in the thralls of his high, reveling so deeply in his joy that he seemed to forget about everything else around him. he could get up at this moment and walk in to the casting call with no fear in his heart! This was wonderful! He felt like a brand new man! This was the best decision he had ever made! <span class="time">-07:01 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Close to where Rowen was basking in his euphoric high, Stilts picked up a rock in both hands and lumbered towards Parker. He was ready to bash the detective's brains out. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The old midget wailed as Tamara's knife cut her cheek. She slapped it aside and gave up trying to rip the woman's hair. Instead, the midget raised the cleaver in both hands, shrieking as she brought it down towards Tamara's face. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> It tooke the frantic yelling of the female detect to ground him back to earth. &quot;Oh shit!&quot; He sat up and just now noticed that Parker was beging assailed by the barkeep from the diner outback. &quot;You lying asshole!&quot; Feeling more confident in himself it pulled out the gun and took a potshot at the large barkeep. <span class="time">-07:08 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Howling in terror, Tamara tilted quickly to the side. The cleaver coming down hard to land with a THUNK in to the wood floor. So close that it had chopped a good inch or two of her hair. Before the old midget could snatch the cleaver out of the floor, Tamara swung a fist at her head as hard as she could. Shoving the woman off her. Tamara was back on her feet in an instant, half running, half limping for the schoolhouse door. <span class="time">-07:10 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The bullet tore through the back of Stilts's throat, exiting at the jaw and blowing out his gold fillings. The rock dropped from his hands, crushing his shoulder. He was almost crumpled in half, like the fairytale monster he emulated. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker rolled onto his hands and knees, spitting out more blood. Stilts lay beside him, his body mangled and his face destroyed. He didn't waste any time looking for his gun. Pulling himself up, Parker slapped Rowen on the shoulder. &quot;Good work. Now let's find Tamara and Allison.&quot; He slumped against the dead wolf-man, picking up the axe in his good hand. <span class="time">-07:12 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"You came for your darling, but the sweet bird sits no longer in the nest!" howled the old midget. It pulled the cleaver from the floor and started running after the limping Tamara, ready to catch her in the porch. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara was almost to the door when the woman cackled her crazy riddle. Was that supposed to mean the girl was dead?! Or somewhere else? ....Growling under her breath, Tamara did a sharp turn once she tripped on to the porch. She grabbed the back of the nearest chair and swung it around, hoping to collide with the crazy hag! <span class="time">-07:16 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Good work! Hey! He was pretty badass, wasn't he! Yeah! &quot;Sorry about that, Hot Shot. That blow to the head kind of shook me up alittle.&quot; His face still showed alittle of the joy of the experience as glanced over at the dead barkeep. &quot;What the hell is going on here?&quot; He brush some of the blood from near his eyes, not wanting it to blur his vision. &quot;Is the chick in danger?&quot; <span class="time">-07:16 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The chair connected with the midget's head and threw her sideways. She collided with another door in the hallway, near the porch. The wood was so rotten that it gave way instantly. The old hag shrieked as she crashed down the flight of basement stairs beyond. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker moved ahead, dripping blood from his arm and dragging the axe behind him. &quot;Rumplestiltskin... the Big Bad Wolf... these sick fucks think they're fairytale monsters.&quot; <span class="time">-07:20 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara stood there for a moment, catching her breath. She let the chair drop from her hands as she took a few steps backwards away from the hall. ...Now she wasn't so certain how brave she could be anymore. Tamara looked back, just barely seeing Parker and Bramble approaching... and they didn't look any better off. &quot;She... she hair this hair. Filled almost the entire room. And she was... j-just chanting Rapunzel, Rapunzel..!&quot; <span class="time">-07:23 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker quickened his pace, put his hand on Tamara's shoulder to steady her. &quot;Where? Where?&quot; he asked. Tamara point and he moved inside, staring down the basement stairs. The old hag lay there, her neck broken. &quot;That's three...&quot; he uttered quietly, the axe in his hand trembling. <span class="time">-07:25 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> A FASCINATING TWIST! He could already start piecing it together in his head! A town filled with mentally unstable people, most likely products of inbreeding, faces a harsh drought while in excluding themselves from the rest of the 'sinful' world! They are stuck with an awful decision and do the unspeakable! They eat their own young! Their mind breaks from the horrors they commited and their shattered psyche force them to wear these fairytale monster to deal with the horrorable things they done! And they continue doing the horrible things because they cannot stop thinking that they are the monsters! THIS WAS UTTERLY RIVETING STUFF! <span class="time">-07:26 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Andd just beyond the hag's body... like a discarded glass slipper... they saw one of Allison's shoes. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Did...Did you see the girl anywhere?&quot; <span class="time">-07:27 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> She hadn't even realize she had start crying until she felt the wetness on her cheeks. Tamara quickly wiped her face with her coat sleave, taking in a deep shakey breath. She had to focus on the girl. Lunatics were out here and that girl was lost and scared. &quot;N-no... just the woman...&quot; Then her breath caught, spotting the other detective woman's shoe at the bottom of the stairs. Of course she would recognize her shoes, she loved shoes...! She gestured again... &quot;Allison's..!&quot; <span class="time">-07:29 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;Shit...&quot; Parker took the lead, moving a little too quickly, adrenaline and shock making it hard to keep quiet. He moved down the stairs, leaving bloody smears where his hand was bleeding. Down below, the basement was lit by stuttering oil lamps. There was a corridor beyond, with a door on either side, and a third door at the far end. <span class="time">-07:32 Jan 21</span></div> <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;The other chick?&quot; He didn't think the other girl was too memorable. She said her lines okay like, and her personality brought something different to the table, but her delivery! Talking about droll! And she always took so long to reply! It was as if she was distracted! She would have made a dull leading lady. &quot;Do you think she's alright?&quot; <span class="time">-07:34 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara didn't want to follow... but she didn't want to let Parker go on alone, either! She kept up with him as best she could, limping down the stairs in an awkward sort of hop. There were more doors down here. And unlike her usual, logical thoughts, all she could imagine now was crazy horrors behind those doors. <span class="time">-07:34 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> She couldn't even respond to Bramble, she was biting her tongue so hard and didn't want to know! <span class="time">-07:35 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Through the right hand door, there was a storeroom with a heap of canned food, firewood, blankets and girl's clothing. And from the left-hand door there were voices. "You will scrub the floors, Cindarella, and dust the shelves and clean the pots and pans. And when you are done you will sleep with the horses on a bed of straw!" <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker couldn't go back. His blood pumped hot like poison, his heart was filled with rage. The guilty must be punished... the wrongs righted. He couldn't let a child grow up in a world like this... with monsters like these. He threw his axe against the door, knocking it clean open. <span class="time">-07:37 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>In the small room, an operating table had been arranged, positioned under a swinging lightbulb. Allison lay in it, her limbs secured with leather restraints. Her chest had been cut open, her chest cavity exposed, her heart removed. And either side of her stood the hideous surgeons. A pair of woman, fat and grotesque, their faces warped by inbreeding and cosmetic surgery, their hair bleached blonde, their clothes ill-fitting. They spun to face the detectives, one lifting a scalpel as the other wielded a bonesaw <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Was there more of these people? He was so curious to ask they why they choose to use Fairy Tales as their theme. Wanted to understand, to know what kind of mind thinks of things like these. Who knows, maybe he might get the chance to play a lunatic like this in his future career so getting some extra experience from the source would have been great! <span class="time">-07:42 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker screamed and lunged foward, swinging the axe towards the first of the Ugly Stepsisters. She dropped in a spray of blood, wailing as Parker chopped her limbs and torso. And as she fell the other sister ran for the door, swinging the bonesaw at Rowen and Tamara. <span class="time">-07:43 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> It was the most terrible, horrifying thing she had ever seen. Tamara didn't even make more than a choked sound as she limped backwards until her back hit the wall behind her. Again, she just barely lunged out of the way before the Stepsiter hacked at her with the bonesaw. Tamara wasn't even thinking anymore as she kicked a heeled foot out to crushed against the woman's knee and went grabbing to snatch that saw from her. <span class="time">-07:45 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He was bold now, the rush of being a leading man! This is what it must felt like! &quot;Looks like you are about to get awhole lot uglier, bitch!&quot; He manage to side step the swing and managed to swing his gun agianst her face as the ugly step sister was still wresling for the saw blade with the female detective, knock the large woman off balance and loosening her grip on the saw, giving Tamara hold of it. <span class="time">-07:48 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The Stepsister fell, twisting as her knee gave out and Tamara grabbed her saw. The blow from Rowen send her crashing to the floor, but no sooner had she landed than she had sunk her teeth into Rowen's ankle. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> That crazy woman had sharp as sharp as daggers! She tore through his shoes and sunk her teeth into his flesh deep enough that h could feel his sock getting damp with blood. &quot;GET THE FUCK OFF!&quot; He reared up his other leg and sent it flying towards the woman, aiming for her spleen as she continued her iron jaw lock on his foot. <span class="time">-07:54 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Bone saw now in hand, Tamara tossed it back in to the bloodied room with disgust. Not ever considering that it could be used as a weapon. Circling around the kicking and flailing woman on the floor, Tamara grabbed one of her legs and pulled, trying to get her free from Rowen. &quot;Parker..!&quot; <span class="time">-07:57 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker turned, his arms and chest soaked in gore. He saw what was happening. He saw red. Lunging back to the doorway, he lifted the axe in both hands and buried it in the stepsister's side. The grotesque woman gave a final shudder and then became still. And as silence settled Parker slumped against the doorframe and slid to the ground, wracked with tears. <span class="time">-07:59 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> The woman's teeth still had a deathclamp on him, even as the entrails stained the three of them. &quot;I guess she couldn't hack it.&quot; He crouched down as he attempt to remove her off his ankle, having to try to pry her jaw off like it was a bear trap. <span class="time">-08:02 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara dropped that woman's foot like a hot potato, but she didn't look at the bottom. She kept her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, until she stilled that churning in her stomach. Quickly, she moved over to Parker on the floor. Unwrapping her scarf from around her as she knelt. She brushed and dabbed it against his face in quick motions trying to clean off as much of the blood as she could. Her hands were shaking and as she was inches from sobbing herself, but even so she gave a panicked laughed. &quot;please don't.. not yet...! I can't - I can't do this. I need help. From someone <i>sane</i>.&quot; She paused just long enough to cast a side glance at Rowen. &quot;Just please. Th-that girl needs us...&quot; <span class="time">-08:06 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker looked up at her. Behind her was Allison, splayed on the operating table like some macabre specimen, and beyond that the bloody remains of the first stepsister. They were in a world of darkness and misery, where no hope could linger. He was drowning. <span class="time">-08:09 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>And now, through the silence, a final sound could be heard. From the room at the end of the basement corridor. The scraping of metal and a gentle thumping. And, ever so softly, a girl's tears.. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He still was trying to pry the madwoman's maw off of him before the final sound cause to pause. &quot;Is that the girl? Maybe she's okay...&quot; He finally manage to pry himself from her clutches. &quot; What a terribletime to expereince lock jaw...&quot; <span class="time">-08:12 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;Sshh!&quot; she hissed at Rowen. Tamara was trying to listen. She had already been tricked once by the fake cry of a child, and this time she didn't intend to go running in unprepared. Tamara tied her scarf loosely around Parker's neck and straightened his jacket as if that was all it would take to boost confidence in him. &quot;I am terrified... I don't know how to be brave. But there is a girl scared and along with the crazy people. ...we don't have the right to cower.&quot; Leaving Parker's side she moved to the step sister's body. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tugged at the axe hilt trying to lift the blasted thing. &quot;I have to get her... Someone has to!&quot; <span class="time">-08:18 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Slowly, Parker rose, consigned to his fate to see this through to the end. He took the scalpel from the body of the other step-sister, not daring to glance at Allison's ruined body. He followed her out, nodding to Rowen, who still had his pistol. The three of them moved as one, silent and with every nerve on edge. <span class="time">-08:22 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>They opened the door to the final room, and found the heart of darkness. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall...." <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>There were glass boxes. Six of them, set in alcoves around the room. And in each the body of a girl, floating serenely. The cases had been fillled with formaldehyde, preserving perfectly the girls. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>And in the centre, sat at a silver table, a middle-aged woman in a long flowing dress dined upon her snack. Her knife and fork scraped the plate as it cut through Allison's heart. The Evil Queen lifted a piece a flesh to her mouth, then turned her eyes to gaze upon the strangers. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara didn't know if she could use the axe on someone. She could barely even lift the damn thing. But there were six dead little girls, and a psycho eating someone's heart. She was going to have to learn fast. &quot;What the... the hell is all of this, you witch!&quot; <span class="time">-08:27 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>She sighed, knowing that if the outsiders had got this far, then all her family had surely perished. Her voice was soft, seductive... almost educated... nothing like the guttural tones of her kin. "We had to keep things from changing..." <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>No... not six dead girls... five. The last case... against the far wall, was not yet full. The formaldehyde was being pumped in, but the occupant was still struggling. Willowdean screamed against her gag and she pressed her little hands against the glass, eyes wide with terror. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Well, my first theory is busted... But I was pretty close...&quot; He muttered outloud as he glanced around, taking in the strange scene. This was something out of some warp fairytale! He took in as much as he could so that he could reuse this scene in a movie he will direct some day! &quot;Why. I have to know. I have been asking since we started this. I have to know. Why? Why did you do this?&quot; <span class="time">-08:31 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;Parker, the girl!&quot; Rowen was distracting the woman.... if that chould be called distracting! Tamara herself, had a better idea! She hefted the axe up as high as she could get it, then swung it down hard on top of the crazy witch's table! <span class="time">-08:32 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>"We had to stop the change..." the Queen muttered as she dabbed the blood from her lips. Then suddenly Tamara brought the axe own, smashing apart the plate and the remains of Allison's heart. She yelled and reeled out of her chair, bringing up her fork and jabbing it into Tamara's shoulder. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker ran around them, throwing his shoulder into the glass vat which was slowly filling with formaldehyde. The tank did not even buckle. &quot;ROWEN! SHOOT THE GLASS!&quot; <span class="time">-08:35 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> He pointed hid gun at her, hesitant to pull the trigger. He was so close had to know! He must know more! This was a once in a life time chance to pick the brains of psychopath. &quot;Where you always like this? I mean the killings and such. Has it always been this way?&quot; He was too absorbed in his own persuit thats he could barely hear what Parker was shout at him <span class="time">-08:38 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Willowdean began to float, her arms and legs thrashing as the tank filled. She pounded against the glass, screaming and sobbing. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara shouted in pain, even stumbled back a step. But she didn't lose her grip on that axe, and used her momentum to take another swing. This time for the woman's head! &quot;ROWEN, THE GIRL!!&quot; <span class="time">-08:38 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Oh... Right.&quot; He pointed the gun at the tank filled with the girl that started this whole experience in the first place. He had to show his gratitude, after all if she didn't send his uncle the letter he would have never experienced such a great character development. <i>BANG</i> The shot fired into the glass, managin to shatter it! <span class="time">-08:42 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>The axe split the woman's cheek and she stumbled back, right into Parker's clutches. He got one arm around her chest and brought the scalpel to her neck, the blade pressed to her skin. "Don't fucking move!" <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>The glass shattered and Willowdean came tumbling out in the flood of formaldehyde, coughing and spluttering. She lay on the floor, trembling with terror. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara finally dropped the axe, rushing to the little girl and pulling Willow in to her arms. &quot;It's okay baby, we found you! We're gonna get out of here!&quot; <span class="time">-08:47 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> It was over. The girl was saved. The nightmare had imploded. But Parker still held the final monster... the Queen... locked in his arms... the scalpel to her throat.... <span class="time">-08:48 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> What was deserved? What punishment was fitting? How could such darkness be answered in this world? The blade trembled in his hand. His eyes were dark with rage... <span class="time">-08:49 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;So we call the cops and let them handle the rest, yeah?&quot; <span class="time">-08:50 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;No...&quot; Parker answered, his voice low... sounding from a place of interminable rage <span class="time">-08:51 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;Are you even a detective?&quot; Tamara finally hissed. She was pulling off her coat and wrapping it around the little girl. But her eyes were on Parker, whose expression was so dark, it was almost frightening. &quot;Parker. ...Parker, we aren not executioners...&quot; <span class="time">-08:53 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;People hire me... to kill those who need to be killed...&quot; He pressed the blade harder against the Queen's throat. The woman was barely even registering what was happening. Her gaze was locked on the dead girls - on her beautiful 'mirrors', in which time and innocence stood still. <span class="time">-08:54 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;No one said eveyone who answered the letter had to be a detective.&quot; He said matter of factly. He grew fascinated with this bloodlust that grew over Parker. &quot;Hot shot. You gotta tell me, as someone who;s done this plenty of time, seeing things like ths, facing people like that woman, knowing that evil like this exists reguardles of weither we save this girl... Why do you keep doing it? What's your motivation?&quot; <span class="time">-08:57 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;He's not a killer, Rowen!&quot; she shouted again, her voice cracking after a night of screaming in terror. &quot;You're not, Parker! ...you're the hero! The hero saves people, and protects people! He doesn't choose who dies or seeks vengeance!&quot; <span class="time">-08:58 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;SHE CHOSE!&quot; Parker shouted, pushing the blade against the Queen's throat. &quot;She chose which girls to take, which families to prey on, which fairytales to tell her inbred family! She chose to end the lives of innocents. Now I choose to end her!&quot; <span class="time">-09:01 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;Man.. This is all so captivating... I wish I had like a camera or a note pad or something. This is the kind of stuff that leaves chills in people spines.&quot; he nod as he looks on at Parker, waiting to see how he finishes this evening. <span class="time">-09:03 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> It silenced her for a moment. Holding that girl and listening to his vehement speech. How could she even argue about the depth of that woman's evil, or debate whether or not she should be allowed to live... &quot;...but if you kill her, you'll be chosing who lives and who dies. Just like she has been... What would make us any different...&quot; <span class="time">-09:05 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> &quot;I am no different...&quot; Parker whispered, his eyes lowering. The next part was barely heard. &quot;I just kill my own.&quot; With a sad finality he drew the blade across the woman's throat, slicing through the flesh in a slow, single stroke. The Queen dropped forward, bleeding out amidst the remains of her silver table. Parker dropped the scalpel. <span class="time">-09:08 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> Tamara's cringe couldn't be withheld, but she at least averted the little girl's eyes away from the sight. She couldn't decide if Parker had made the wrong choice or not. ...Perhaps he made the even braver choice. Ridding the world of something truly evil when no one else could. <span class="time">-09:12 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>Willowdean buried her head in Tamara's chest, screwing shut her eyes. She just wanted to be somewhere else, far from this terror, back home with grandma where the big bad wolf would never find her. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> Rowen inhaled deeply, having to intake more air after his performance took his breath away. The look of remorse of his face, the shame, the guilt, the pain! It was all so real! It grabbed him by the heart and shook him until there was no emotions left in him and shook some more! He was watching a master at work! Tonight was so much better than he could ever have hoped for! And now... And now he had the perfect character! He found the character he was going to be for his upcoming role! Parker! This tortured beast that moves the heart strings with the tradegy of his pathos! What an evening! <span class="time">-09:13 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> Parker looked down at Tamara and Willowdean and slowly pulled the scarf from around his neck and let it drop on the floor beside the scalpel. He turned towards the door. &quot;Get Willowdean back home safe. If anyone asks, it was me who killed these people.&quot; He took a few steps, then reached out a hand to Rowen to shake. &quot;Thank you for saving my life.&quot; <span class="time">-09:15 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8E8E38; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Rowen: </span> &quot;No, Hot shot. Thank you. This has been... The single greatest night I have experienced. I may have save your life, yes... But it is you that I shall invoke when film rolls and when the director throws his cues. It is your likeness that I pull upon as I play that troubled private detective trying to fend off his own demons while solving the problems of others. It is your soul I embrace when cut into their hearts with my words, making them shed tears for animal that is called a man! I may have save your life tonight, yes... But I shall make your live a million lives in the eyes of those whom will be moved by what I saw of you this day.&quot; He proudly shakes Parkers hand. <span class="time">-09:20 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #00688B; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Tamara: </span> &quot;C'mon lil Red. Time to get you home.&quot; Tamara helped pulled Willowdean up to her feet and guided her towards the door. There she stopped, turning back to cast a weak smile where Rowen was so enthusiastically shaking his hand. &quot;...you're still a hero, Parker. At least to me.&quot; <span class="time">-09:21 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: verdana,verdana,serif; color: #8B2500; background-color: #;"><span class="username">Parker: </span> He had no anger left... not even for Rowen, who pledged with that handshake to parade his darkness before the world. He looked to Tamara as she led Willowdean away, then released Rowen's hand and sat down on the Queen's chair. The dead girls floated around him, like the ghosts that would haunt him all his days. &quot;I hope your movies have a happier ending, Rowen,&quot; he whispered. <span class="time">-09:24 Jan 21</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #CCFFFF; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=ngm>And there he stayed, waiting till the others had left, before lighting a match that would burn to the ground this realm of monsters. A detective, an actor and a killer... changed forever in the twisted fairy tale. <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>
    <div class="post" style="font-family: Verdana,verdana,serif; color: #FFFF00; background-color: #0;"><span class="username"> </span> <p class=nnar>THE END <span class="time">-Parker</span></div>