I watch the Patron go, I rub my jaw a bit before finally standing up and walking back home with the briefcase. Should I have pulled more teeth? No, I have plenty of time. Still, roughly fifteen million, that's no easy task. As I continue my walk, a school bus passes me. That's odd, school is supposed to be out right now. The bus turns the opposite way from my home, and for some strange reason, I change course to follow it.

The bus is driving slowly, almost as if its driver is looking for someone. No sports or other school activities are currently taking place. Normally, this would blend into the distance, but recently, things have been catching my eye. I follow at a distance, not too noticeable, but making sure to keep it in sight. The bus rounds another corner further into the industrial district, and I hear the squeal of the brakes. And I duck into an alleyway.

I sneak behind a dumpster and turn my head to where the bus has parked. Two men hop out, moving what seems to be a laundry bin. They're dressed in mechanics' attire, but both of them have a gun strapped to their side. I cover my mouth and raise my eyebrow. What are they doing here?

"Skill, here's ya cut," One of the men says, holding out an envelope.

"Thanks, Snatch," Skill responds, taking the envelope.

The man called Snatch nods and pushes the laundry bin to a garage door in the alleyway, right across from where I'm hiding. Snatch removes the cover of the bin and nods, leaving it by the door, then walks back over to the bus. He checks his watch and hops into the bus.

"All good. They'll be here in ten, Mary sent some extra help," Snatch says, and they drive off.

Mary, this is the Organization, of course it is. I wait for them to disappear completely before walking over to the bin. It's large, I would estimate nine or ten feet long. These must be the drugs the Patron was referring to, dead drops, I think they're called. I place my hands on the bin, and a strong scent of peppermint mixed with something stale fills my nostrils. Maybe the peppermint is used to cover up the scent of the drugs?

I grab the lid and slowly pull it off, setting it on the ground. On the underside of the lid is the origin of the peppermint scent, plants, oils, peppermint candy, it's all there. I stand there staring at the lid for a moment before returning my attention to the inside of the bin. At first, my mind doesn't process what I'm seeing, perhaps shielding me from the dark reality, but as soon as my brain registers what I'm seeing, I wish I had looked away.

The bin is filled to the brim with bodies, men, women, children, animals, all of it they're all there. The bodies are pale and empty, husks of what were people. Maggots are crawling in and out of the bodies, adding to the intensity of what I'm seeing, and for a moment, briefly, I see my own face among the dead. I shake my head and slam the lid back onto the bin, running further into the alleyway before puking in some trash.

They're monsters, all of them, they're monsters. If I thought the Patron was bad, these guys make him look like a saint in comparison. They gut and kill innocent people, their families too. Why did they even bother keeping me alive? If they're so evil, why am I still here? Just for their sick and twisted games?

I stumble back down the alleyway, making my way far away from that place. My entire body feels weak, my vision blurring, my breath catching in my throat. Everything feels so wrong. This can't be a reality, I'm dreaming, that's right...this is only a bad nightmare. The faces of the dead flash through my mind, and I fall to my knees, clutching my head.

"Keep it together, man," I say aloud, pleading with myself.

As much as I try, the images of the dead fester in my head. I try to stand but stumble and fall into the snow. I can't do it, this is too much for me, please make it go away, anyone, please. I close my eyes as the coldness of the snow embraces me, taking me back to a cold winter night so many years ago.

I stand on top of a snowy hill, holding a sled in my hand, and my father stands next to me, holding his own sled. I look up at him nervously, and he nods and smiles. My mother calls up to me from the bottom of the hill.

"Kyne! It's okay! I'll be right here for you!" She holds out her arms.

"Meet ya down there, slowpoke!" My dad says teasingly as he sleds down.

I smile and push off after him, heading towards my mother. As we sled down the hill, my father tumbles out of the sled and groans at the bottom. I gracefully land on top of him as he lets out an "oof". I laugh and climb off him. My mother rushes over and holds her hand over her mouth, trying not to giggle.

"Daddy, you're kind of bad at this," I say, laughing.

He grabs me and pulls me to the ground, tickling me as I try to escape. We laugh for a while, and then my mother cracks her knuckles. My father and I look at each other with scared expressions as she joins the pile.

"Tickle fight!" She yells, using both hands to tickle both of us.

I thrash around as my face is pressed into the cold snow, but I don't mind because the warmth I felt inside was far greater than what nature could throw at me. And I knew that my parents would always be there for me, no matter what was to come.

I open my eyes again, awaking from the memory. I look around; it's dark out now. I grumble and stand up, rubbing my eyes and feeling the pain in my cheeks from the missing teeth. How long was I out? Hours, damn it, Nis!

I snap back into action, rushing towards the shop and my home. I didn't mean to be out here for so long. What happened? I think back to what happened. I was following a bus, and then there were two men, Skill and Snatch. But what happened after that? It's like my brain is blocking something out, but what?

I push open the front door, Nis already having her winter gear on, arguing with Mr. Giles about going out. She whips around and tears up, running to me and grabbing onto my waist forcefully and squeezing.

"Never leave me again!" She cries, burying her head into my side.

"Sorry, Nis, I fell over and passed out," I say, the events still foggy in my mind.

She gently cries, not letting go of me. I put my hand on her head and gently rub it, making sure she knows I won't go anywhere. I set the briefcase down and lift her to hug her. Mr. Giles smiles and picks up the briefcase, nodding to me.

"Remember our promise, Nis?" I ask and she nods.

"Yes...you won't leave me," She says, and I nod.

"Exactly, sorry I was gone for so long," I say.

She mumbles something and then gently closes her eyes, snoring softly. I smile and gently bring her up to my room, setting her on the bed and taking her boots and coat off, just like last time. She seems so peaceful now.

"She wanted to go out and look for you," Mr. Giles says softly, from behind me.

"Really?" I ask and he laughs.

"Yeah, really, kid, she was hellbent on it. I was half expecting her to run after you; she's really attached," He says as we walk to the bedroom door and close it.

"She's very sweet," I say, nodding.

"What happened out there?" He asks.

"Long story, let's talk outside, not in here," I say.

He nods as we exit the shop, standing outside the front and having a smoke. Well, I refuse, but Mr. Giles smokes a few as we talk. I tell him about my meeting with the Patron and the removal of my teeth, and then I tell him about the bus and the two men before waking up in the snow.

"Hmm, Skill and Snatch? I never heard of them; must be pretty new in the Organization. As for what you're talking about, it sounds like a standard dead drop," He says, taking a deep inhale of his cigarette.

Dead drop? Hmm, that sounds familiar. I think back to the events, I remember grabbing hold of a lid, and the strong scent of peppermint. The images after that flicker in my mind, like a burnt movie reel, showing no images, just splotches.

"Dead drops..." I say, and he nods, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Yeah, usually for drugs or people, sometimes though..." He sucks in and tuts.

People...the images flicker in my mind, I remember seeing a lot of people, but where was that? A bus...dead drops...people... How could I have forgotten so quickly? It only happened earlier this morning. I sigh and rub my head. Something is missing, something important.

"Sometimes what?" I ask.

He looks at me, right into my eyes, and he searches for something in my expression. He shakes his head, seeming almost unconvinced before taking another drag from his cigarette. He chucks the rest and pats me on the shoulder.

"Nothing, kid, don't think about it," He says, sternly, and walks back inside.

"Wait, one more thing, I wanted to tell you something, but it's like there's a wall in my memories, like I can't remember what transpired from the time I saw those men to the time I woke up," I say.

"Sometimes, the mind plays tricks on you, causing you to forget things that aren't important, like that feeling of walking into a room and forgetting what you came in there to do. And other times, the brain shields you by blocking out things a human eye shouldn't have ever witnessed. Don't poke at that wall, kid, leave it be," He says, his eyes filled with raw emotion.

I nod, and he nods back, heading back inside. Maybe he's right, maybe some things are better left forgotten. But I still can't shake the feeling that something is missing. Actually, come to think of it, this has happened to me before, once, when I was young and got separated from my mother...what was that memory?

"Hey, Kyne, come here," a voice called to me. I was outside, desperately looking for my mother. This man, his face blurry, was a forgotten memory. He reached down his hand, and I took it. I felt safe with him even though I didn't recognize it.

He led me back to my house, and my mother swung the door open and scooped me in her arms instantly. She looked at the man, he said something I didn't understand back then, and she shook her head.

"No, you can't stay, and you know why. Thank you for finding him, but we don't want you near him, or us," She said.

"Sylna, if you reject me now, they'll-" He started to say, and she held up her hand to cut him off.

"No, brother, leave."

He stood there, in the snowfall, and silence washed over the three of us. He turns to walk away but stops, turning around.

"I don't know why snow is white, Sylna, but I think snow reflects your soul. Filthy souls are surrounded by sludge; pure souls are surrounded by white snow. That child is pure, and so are you and your husband. The snow around me is stained red," He responded and tipped his hat, walking off into the distance.

All I remembered as he left was his bright orange eyes, which seemed to cast an otherworldly glow across the snow around him. It was just my childhood brain, but for some reason, that image stuck with me.

Come to think of it, the Patron said something about snow, didn't he?