"Greg, I'm so sorry," Terra said, snapping him out of his trance that he was in while telling Terra the events of that night. She had her arms around him, Greg still laying next to her in bed. He was surprised to realize his arms were loosely around her, too. Greg wondered if he had done that or if Terra had placed them there.

He couldn't quite remember.

"So, what happened to Holly's mother?" Terra asked, being careful not to upset Greg, but also wanting to know as much as she could about him.

"She broke into our house to take Holly, but decided my grandfather's antique pocket watch held more value. She got a good amount of money to buy more drugs instead of paying the crazy dealer she was married to."

It took Terra a minute to process this, but when she did, it looked like she was going to cry.

"She overdosed in her bathroom that night. That's why she didn't answer the door. They never found Holly's dad," Greg continued, somehow seeming even more emotionless than he usually was.

After that, nothing was said. Terra silently held Greg tighter, kissing his forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Greg," she whispered.

"It's doesn't matter," he replied, sitting up calmly to look over at the clock. He almost tumbled off the bed when he saw that they had been talking for nearly four hours.

• • •

"Terra, I have something I have to take care of at the church, but I should be done around noon!" Brenda announced through the bedroom door, reaching for the doorknob until Jack practically dragged her away.

"Now, dear! It's three in the damn morning! The kid isn't part bat like you, let her rest!" he laughed, pulling his wife out the front door. "Let's go out for breakfast!"

The two casually enjoyed themselves at the diner, Jack eating his eggs and bacon, and Brenda having a stack of pancakes. Neither of them said a word for the first few minutes.

"Mhgmh," Brenda finally broke the silence, talking around a mouthful of food.

"I love you, too," Jack replied effortlessly, sipping his orange juice.

"I can't remember the last time you took me out for breakfast," Brenda spoke clearly this time, raising a brow after ordering more pancakes.

"Well, today I feel romantic," Jack shrugged nonchalantly, handing a napkin to her.

"Let's hope the kids are safely romantic with those condoms you passed to our lovely child," Brenda pushed on, amusement all over her face.

Jack dropped his gaze, staring awfully hard at his bacon.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice the jeep still in the driveway or Greg's bags downstairs? Jeez, Jack! Food only distracts me so much!" she exclaimed, feeling a little offended.

"I never could keep anything from you so I don't know what I expected," Jack chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"What were you thinking!" Brenda huffed, trying to scold him, but also keep her voice in check. "She was just attacked, you dummy!"

"I...didn't really think about all that," he muttered, clearly ashamed of himself.

"Well, neither of them came bursting out of the room, so I guess they tuckered themselves out!" Brenda huffed, stabbing a pancake especially hard. "I just hope you gave them the good shit and not those thin pieces of crap you used on me."

"Jesus, Brend--"

"Don't take the lord's name in vain!" she hissed, stabbing his hand with the same fork.

That's when the whole diner stared as they both burst into laughter.

"So if you knew what was happening, why didn't you stop it?" Jack asked, rubbing his hand tenderly.

"Those two need each other whether they realize it or not. Especially Greg..." Brenda sighed while Jack reached out to hold her hand.

"Plus, if I had, I wouldn't be getting free breakfast, now would I?" she grinned as two more plates of pancakes arrived.

• • •

"And soon only God's pure children will survive!" the man in the white hood said to the cheers of the others inside the run down bar. the whole bar was shaking with the chants of its patrons.

"White power!"

After his speech, the janitor slid his white robes into his duffle bag, leaving the bar that was now the sight of a large drinking party.

"Hey, Grand Wizard, ain't ya gonna stay and celebrate yer great speech?" one of the members called out from a bar stool.

"Nah, I gotta rise early tomorrow, brothers. We'll meet again on Wednesday," he said with a wave before stepping out into the night.

While he walked, he noticed a figure was following him. It was hard to tell who it was in the darkness, but the janitor felt like it wasn't someone he knew.

He subtly gripped the handle of the gun holstered on his belt, but he was still incredibly nervous. He had never been a great fighter or necessarily that intimidating, but he knew how to pull a trigger.

The first thing he told the pawn shop owner after his attack was that he wanted the biggest .357 magnum they had. Ever since that day, the janitor had felt invincible.

The figure walked a little faster and the janitor unfastened the snap, keeping his shaky hand on the handle firmly.

Walking faster still, the janitor quickly reached his car and dove into it.

"Who's gonna get who now?!" he exclaimed, watching as the figure broke into an all out sprint, running past the car and up to a bus that had just arrived.

"Jesus! This shit's got me all jumpy!" the janitor sighed, his voice shaky too.

"I can tell," a figure said from the back seat.

Before the man could react, the figure wrapped a thin piece of piano wire around the man's neck. The janitor lifted his gun, but the mere size of the Colt Python made it impossible for him to turn it around in such a tight space.

The wire cut into the janitor's throat and blood was sent dripping onto his shirt.

"Sorry I'm late. I got held up waiting for somebody to fall asleep," the figure said, pulling harder on the wire.

"It's nice to see you, but I'm afraid I have to cut this visit short."

Blood spewed across the car as the figure yanked back on the wire, removing the janitor's head. The figure then pulled out a black trash bag and tossed it inside along with the man's gun.

• • •

"Now let's start the fun," Greg said, driving down the street feeling as close to happy as he ever could. In the passenger seat sat four neatly organized black duffle bags.

Greg checked the marked areas on his map one final time before stuffing it away into an identical bag that rested on the back seat.

"We have been doing practice walks around these areas for months now. The time is right," Greg said to himself as he pulled up to his first destination.

The Danger Devil's Biker Bar Clubhouse sat across the street. It wasn't hard for Greg to approach without being seen

"Thanks for the hammer, Ray," Greg smirked at the single duffle bag before tossing it as hard as he could against the front door of the bar.

Greg made sure to sprint out of sight just as the door was opened. Blaring music exploded from the inside, telling Greg that this man was just coincidentally walking out. Nobody could've heard that thud over that obnoxious noise.

However, the drunken man noticed the dripping wet bag and carried it inside. Soon the bar went silent.

As the drunk man opened it and dumped out the head of Big Raging Ray the missing biker leader, the crowd yelled out in frustration.

"That's Ray!"

"Who did this?!"

"Look! The bag has a klansman logo!"

"They did this!"

That last shout belonged to the newly promoted President of the Club named Axe.

"I guess they decided to grow balls and send a message!" he spoke loudly over the crowd. "Well, we outnumber those redneck pricks! Let's fuck 'em up!"

The crowd roared and followed Axe outside, the group jumping on their bikes and storming off.

Greg, having climbed onto the roof, watched the people of the town walk by, all dressed up for Halloween activities.

"Ironic that Mom and Dad always wanted us to enjoy the festival... Now we can," Greg smirked.

Greg remained hidden up on the roof, simply waiting and watching as the night went on.

"Let's see... We threw Ray's head to his biker gang and blamed the KKK. We threw Darnell's head to his gang and blamed the Latino Gang. We threw Pedro's head to his ex-wife and kid, so we're sure the Latinos will be pissed at the bikers, and we threw the janitor's head to the skinheads. We assume they'll find a way to blame Darnell's people," Greg rambled to himself before peering at his watch.

"The four gangs take up the four corners of our town, so the only way for them to get to each other is to cross the middle of town. Now we just wait."

Soon, the sound of bikes rang out through the dark and cold October night. Greg could see the large gang headed to the town square.

"Come on... Don't be late..." Greg whispered as he watched the beat up trucks coming from the opposite side.

"Almost..."

Then came the Latinos and Dark-Skinned gangs, all in flashy, low riding cars.

"Bingo."

Watching the four gangs get out of their individual vehicles, Greg felt himself become giddy.

"The fuck y'all doing here?" The dark-skinned leader said.

"'Bout to kick us some dark meat ass!" the Klansmen leader replied.

The gangs reached for their weapons, all the men on edge.

"We ain't leavin' without some cousin fucker brains on our boots!" Axe shouted.

The Latinos shouted in Spanish, but Greg couldn't understand it.

Bystanders started to gather, all looking nervous about what was going down.

Soon the guns were put down and gang members were walking away, much to Greg's surprise.

"You're just lucky--" Axe started to say before his head suddenly exploded like a watermelon.

Everyone just stood there stunned until a Latino shot a biker, causing the bikers to shoot at the Klansmen. Soon it was a full on gun fight.

The fight went on for hours with drunken Halloween partiers running away screaming for their lives.

"I love the sense of satisfaction from a plan will executed," Greg grinned to himself, spinning a freshly fired Colt Python on his finger before triumphantly strolling away.

• • •

Greg stood deep in the dark woods, digging a small, but very deep hole.

"I always love this part," he snickered, taking a small weatherproof box out of the jeep and placing various notebooks inside. They contained writings about Ashlynn Greene, Raging Ray, the janitor, Darnell Jackson, and Hector Ramirez.

"Now for the honorable mentions," he smirked, reaching for Chad's black book and Ray's hammer...but touched the bottom of the duffle bag instead.

"Oh no..." Greg groaned to himself. "Oh, god, no!"