Hello, Wattpad readers! Thanks for all of your support!

This chapter is for JAPartridge and meharrjdawg. These guys are extremely knowledgeable and have completely changed my way of thinking about writing. Sincerest thanks always!

Flashback: 1985

It's too hot, Abe thought.

The young teen stood inside a steamy shelter and stared at the window above his bed. Climbing onto the headboard, the boy yanked on the rectangular pane until it partly pried open. Ecstatic, he bounced from the mattress to the floor, like a gymnast performing a dismount, with his arms stretched out at their theatrical ends.

Yet, the air remained humid and sticky.

It's still too hot.

The unchanged condition made Abe sink.

The boy looked for the cup of water he'd poured earlier in the day. His mouth was dry and pasty, and there, on a side table, he found his forgotten treasure. He lifted the drink to his blistered lips, only to gag on its warmth and distastefulness. Cough, cough! He choked and sputtered. Was there nothing in that forlorn room that would not disappoint him? He returned to the lumpy mattress on his bed; a sad-sack place of refuge for him.

Abe wiped his face and tugged at his shirt. The sweat on his skin permeated his clothes and soaked through his sheets. He lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, watching a rickety old fan shake and spin. He debated the removal of his damp, clingy clothing. Nevermind the chance of an insect bite, he determined, or that his wool sheets would, indeed, be scratchy and stiff. He was not concerned at the moment, and thus peeled off his thin layer of a shirt.

I'm not ready to sleep.

Dreading the upcoming day — sealing concrete in the same exhausting weather with his foster father — Abe searched for an evening diversion instead. Nearby, he spotted a library book he'd only recently begun, a story about a young girl on a mission, tessering her way through outer space to find her long-lost father. A thin smile emerged, and Abe sought the novel with renewed interest.

Knock-knock-knock!

A sharp rapping at the door stirred the boy to attention.

"Mr. Baldredge?" the boy called out. He hadn't expected his foster father at this time of day. "Hello?"

Bug-eyed, Abe set the novel aside and approached the front door.

There, a stranger with a balding pate bowed over bended knee, the lengths of his black overcoat settling onto the dirty ground. In one hand, the older gentleman carried a fancy, large-brimmed hat. In the other, he held a dark, detailed walking stick. A thin golden serpent swirled around the glossy cane, peeking its head beyond the gentleman's grip.

"Hello?" the youth said.

"Ah yes, hello, my young friend," the stranger said. "Perhaps you could help me? I am looking for a Master Abram who lives in these parts."

"Abram? Well, I don't know anyone by that name," the boy paused, "but my name is Abe... "

"Ahh, my Lord! I've found you!" The stranger bowed further. "Forgive me for calling upon you at this late hour. My name is Signor Ambroggio, and I have been sent for you."

"For me? For what?"

The man remained prostate, but peeped into the boy's backyard shack. "I can only speak to you in private, my Lord."

"Oh," Abe said. He briefly looked at the state of his shelter. "Well, there's not a lot of room, but come in! Come in!"

The old man smiled. "Thank you, my Lord, thank you."

Immediately, Abe questioned his invite. The slender gentleman stood much taller than expected. Despite the removed hat, the old man ducked into the miniature home.

Abe stared at the thin, shadowy figure, spellbound by his small, slit-like eyes and perfectly-curled black mustache. His long face terminated in a pointy nose and jaunty chin. The stranger coughed, and the local air filled with the smell of foul nicotine. Abe helped the strange fellow hobble to a chair and listened to him wheeze with every step.

Abe closed the door and as he did so, surveyed the outdoor premises. The sun was settled, and the horizon was an odd, pink-on-purple-colored swath. Yellow-lined clouds rippled across the canvas sky. On the streets below, not a single person strolled about, as if the whole town had become haunted or deserted. No activity could be heard, except for the cicadas buzzing in the background. It was as if the day had ceased and the earth stood still.

What in the world was happening, Abe thought, that placed an old man at his dwelling?

"Wait here, Sir," Abe said. "I'll go get Mr. Baldredge."

"No!" the man cried out. "I'm alright."

The boy stopped. He squeezed the door handle tightly and questioned the idea to let go. "Sir, I don't think I'm the one you are looking for. My name is 'Abraham' -- 'Abe' for short -- I was named after President Lincoln."

"Ah, so you were told," the gentleman said. "Indeed, you are the one I am looking for! I was sent here to rescue you."

"Rescue me?"

The man spoke more clearly now, without a congestion in his chest. He seemed not as tired or helpless anymore.

"Why does God neglect and enslave you?" the stranger asked, looking about the hobbit surroundings.

Abe felt as if he were shrinking, disappearing. He wanted to run away but found he could not move.

"God?"

The dark figure smirked. He spotted Abe's library book and flipped it off the table with his cane. "Why do you waste your time with such frivolous nonsense? Come, let me free your mind of its chains."

"Chains?"

"Yes-s-s," the tall, thin man said slowly, his 's' drawn out like a snake. He laughed. "Are you not locked up in this prison against your will?"

The boy was stunned at the man's allegation.

"Is this how you are cared for? Living in a dog house, while your guardian lives in a mansion next door? Where are your clothes? Why do you sleep in a cell?"

Abe glanced about his meager place. It was not much, this was true. He looked down at his bare chest and shabby pants and instantly felt ashamed. He grabbed a nearby t-shirt and quickly put it on.

"Why are you sad and left alone?"

The boy could not answer. The figure had reached deep into his heart and exposed it. He was sad and alone.

"I can free you from your imprisonment."

The boy trembled. Free me?

"Follow me, young Abram, and I will make you a man of great power and importance!"