Tom awoke staring at the mold stains on a tiled wall. He felt like a jackhammer was pounding morse code into the back of his head. He lay in a tub, still wearing his T-shirt and boxer briefs. The last thing he remembered was Hypatia asking him what kind of tea he wanted.

A strange noise emanated from the living room, a frenzied scraping sound.

Tom wheezed as he dragged himself out of the tub. What he discovered confused and startled him. "Nathan?" His friend was seated on the couch, using a tactical knife to carve a symbol into the coffee table.

When Nathan saw Tom, he closed his knife and said, "You're up. Good. Don't over do it. I need you strong for where we're going next."

Tom leaned wearily against the door casing. "What are you talking about?" he said, rubbing his dry, irritated eyes. He squinted, discerning something was off about his friend. 

Nathan looked like he hadn't slept in days. He got up from the couch and peered through the curtains, too tremulous to open them more than a crack. Tom came out into the studio. He saw the coffee table where Nathan had carved a pentagram.

"Nathan, what's going on?"

"I think I've done the bidding of a fallen angel."

Tom looked to the pillow nest on the floor. What he discovered there did not make sense in his mind at first. He saw a headless naked body. Female. At first he assumed it was a mannequin. But it wasn't. He recognized the curves he had touched the night before.

The apartment was otherwise deserted, the bed full of pill bottles and rolling papers left out in plain sight. Her blood soaked the cheap blue carpet, tracing the story of her death. She bled out near the front door, which was off its hinges. Then she was dragged into the pillows where she suffered further mutilation. That much was clear from the blood spatter on the canopy veil. Tom's eyes followed the trail of red droplets into the kitchen.

That's where he found the head. It was perched atop the counter, its mouth stuffed with garlic. Tom was in shock. He thought, or hoped, this was some terrible nightmare.

Nathan kept whispering to himself. "I'm in love with the devil's concubine. And I accept that. But now I must destroy her too."

"Nathan!" Tom screamed, holding the sides of his head as he broke down crying. "The fuck did you do? The fuck--"

Tom looked at Hypatia's head once more, crying, "Oh, God!" as her eyes seemed to look right through him. Something broke in him, shattering like a sheet of glass.

"Lacey  told me Hypatia had the flash drive but I couldn't find it anywhere."

"What flash drive?"

"She had a video of Hannah's death. I asked her to give it to me and she said Lacey destroyed it. Why would she say that? Lacey said she wanted to put him away."

"I don't know, man. We could have asked her if her head was still attached to her fucking body!" cried Tom as he paced and found his pants on the floor. He checked them for blood before putting them on. They were clean.

Nathan maintained a manner that was eerily sober and calm. He sighed. "Tom," he said. "I don't think you need to be involved anymore at this point. You should go. Pretend you were never here."

"Pretend I--that's fucking rich. You've gone off the deep end. You need help, Nathan. Professional help. But if I call the cops right now they're gonna put a needle in your arm for this. But then if I don't call, they might put that needle in my arm. Fuck me."

"We can bury her. We can clean the place up. This isn't even her apartment. Nobody has to know she's dead."

"You're insane!" Tom shrieked in a whisper. "We'll get the fucking death sentence! You do realize that, don't you? The only thing we can do is have you turn yourself in. Say it's a psychotic break. It's the meds, right? Blame the meds. Maybe they'll commit you."

"I'm not crazy."

"That's not what the severed  head in the kitchen says!"

Nathan stood up and came toward Tom. "I can't let you..."

"Whoa whoa whoa, get the hell away from me, you psycho--"

Tom tried to run but his flight came too late. Nathan grabbed him, dropping him like a slab of meat. He placed his massive hands around Tom's throat. The brutality of it was amazing. Tom could not draw breath. He kicked his legs in a violent attempt to wriggle free, to no avail.

As the room went dark, he could see a forest growing out of the rooms shadows. The trees stretched high over their heads, their branches unfurling and sprouting thousands of tiny leaves.

The forest grew misty with pale light illuminating the paths. The sun cast a golden sheen along the stones of the trail. Two small boys walked side-by-side, one light and one dark.

"Are you brave, Tom?" the dark-haired boy asked.

"I think so."

Tom recognized the boy now. It was his best friend. Nathan spun around and grabbed Tom by the shoulders.

"I'm gonna need more than that! Are you afraid to die? To have your guts ripped out by wild dogs, yours eyes pecked clean by vultures?"

Tom grappled with Nathan until he let go. "No! I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Will you join me in my quest?"

"Yes," Tom vowed.

"Kneel." Nathan tore a long stick from a twisted root. The wood transformed into a sword of glittering steel, its edge embossed with a latin engraving. Tom knelt in the soft leaves of the forest floor and bowed his head. Nathan rested the blade across each of Tom's shoulders. "In the name of our Queen, I dub thee Sir Thomas Scarboro. O valorous knight, you shall follow your quest, upholding hope and honor, vanquishing evil, and keeping sanctuary for lost children until your servitude is ended by your death. Arise, Sir Knight."

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Music: Muse "Space Dementia"