"Colonel? Hello?"

I knocked on the door of Detective Abe's office before leaning close to the door to listen for voices, accidentally pushing the door open and stumbling inside the room.

I hit the floor face first with a grunt before I quickly stood up and brushed myself off, looking around at the empty office for signs of my friend.

There was a chair in the middle of the room with a pair of handcuffs lying nearby, an empty margarita glass sitting on the desk of the detective.

"What are these?" I murmured as I examined the photos pinned on the cork board, one newspaper article catching my eye.

"Safari hunt gone wrong...." I read the headline before trailing off with wide eyes, staring at the date in disbelief.

The article was published recently by the two identical news reporters that had rescued me.

"They...they're saying that I'm dead, but I'm not!" I exclaimed indignantly as I tore the news article down, feeling rage boiling inside my veins like a fire.

"Everyone wants you to be forgotten, they want you to fade away." Anti taunted in my head, chuckling as I stormed out of the room with the article crumpled in my fist.

"Go find Will." Anti commanded in a whisper, my feet leading me towards the nearest bar before I thought of what I was doing.

"Jameson, you're done hiding!"

I barged inside to find the Colonel dancing onstage with a glass in hand and a pink afro on his head, his safari attire replaced with a disco suit.

"You killed me!" I blurted as I stormed towards my former friend, pushing past a drunk man dressed in a suit aimlessly dancing in the crowd.

"No I didn't, you just played a prank on me like Damien and Celine!" Wilford argued defensively, suddenly behind me with another glass in hand that he offered towards me.

"What the-how did you do that?!" I spluttered in disbelief, Will chuckling as he wrapped my fingers around the bar of the glass.

"Remember when we went to a restaurant and you got so drunk that you finger painted with spaghetti sauce? Ah, what year was that?" Wilford sighed wistfully, my mind racing as I tried to think of the year.

"It was-no, I think-wait, that was....damnit!" I cursed as I pounded my head in frustration with my free hand, nothing making sense to me anymore.

"Am I crazy?" I whispered as I looked into Will's chocolate brown eyes, wishing I could find a spark of sanity in them as I waited with bated breath for an answer.

"What? No no no no no, of course not!" Will assured me hastily, hugging me tightly before I could react.

"I've missed you old friend, you've been playing your joke for far too long." The Colonel murmured into my shoulder, a part of my heart aching at seeing how much he had changed.

"Now's your chance." Anti spoke up, my gaze cast down to my hand where the glass was replaced with a knife.

I thought of how much we had gone through together, how he had betrayed me in the end as I pointed the knife at his back.

"Jameson?"

I closed my eyes as I forced the knife into the Colonel's back, sucking in a breath as his body slumped forward against me.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered as I held onto Will, feeling the life drain from him as he became heavier and heavier in my arms like the weight in my heart.

Anti laughed as my surroundings became dark, the sounds of the music become softer as I slipped into unconsciousness.

I bolted awake in bed with a silent startled gasp, frantically looking around me to find that I was back home in my room with my bowler hat perched on my chest, a sigh of relief escaping me as my head flopped back down onto the pillow and my eyes fluttered shut.

"You think this is over?"

My eyes snapped open at the sound of the somehow familiar voice, my heart pounding in my ears as I looked around for the source of the sound.

"This is Hell, and I'm just getting started! Now," Anti broke off as I shakily picked up a piece of paper I had found on my bedside table, quickly reading the handwriting.

Dear Jameson,

On this note is the address to my house so we can talk about the hunt. All I ask is that you come with me for company, I will handle the actual hunting myself. I hope to see you soon friend.

Sincerely, William J. Barnum

"Let's see what we can do, my little puppet."