“Blood, bones, fire on bridges…stay, stay! This isn’t happening! Shit! Shit! Shit! Not again…Not again…No…No…I thought I was fine…” Mary Angela chanted between an outpour of tears.

She took a look at her hands. They gripped a log as tightly as they could.

Mary threw the log away and stared at her palms. Every line on her once clean palms was traced in grains of sand and dirt.

She took a look at the human in front of her. The human remained still, eyes closed, head bruised.

While Mary’s eyes danced with the red painted on the head of the unconscious being, her hands pulled on her hair. She stretched it as though she wanted every strand of beautiful black as far from her scalp as possible.

Mary bit her lips. They were scarred and began to bleed by scratches and swells.
She knelt beside the unconscious human and placed her palms on his face.

“No…No…I’m sorry. I’m sorry…Please don’t…Please wake up…I’m so sorry.” Mary pleaded with the human.

After a few more minutes of wailing, Mary heard the human cough.

“Damn! Shit! That hurts…It hurts like hell…Fuck…” George muttered while he tried to sit up. His ears felt heavy and his head felt like it was punctured by nails.

The tears on Mary’s eyes increased and drops became a little flood that wet her nose and lips. She had never felt so relieved.

Like a toddler would at the sight of a missing parent, Mary jumped on George and hugged him.

George blushed.

His skin became hot and he feared the pretty red cheeks of being in love would show like stars on a clear night sky.

George felt Mary’s skin brush up against his by every inch.

Her breasts were pressed against his chest but his thoughts were far from that of a pervert. Sure, a man would not ignore such but it was beyond a feeling related to sex.

It felt as though his heart was covered by another blanket besides a rib cage and skin. His chest felt warmth and so did every other part of him. It felt nice.

George let his head sink on Mary’s shoulders while his cheeks were brushed by her dark hair as it played with the wind.

He wanted her to stay still. He wanted that simple hug to last forever. It was a pipe dream but more than anything, he wished it true.

George’s dream ended after a few seconds of dwelling in his mind-made paradise.

Mary pulled away from him but kept both her hands on his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I…I…I’m a little dizzy and shocked…but I’ll be fine.” George answered with a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure? Your head…it looks pretty bad.”

“I’m fine Mary, I promise. Does it hurt? Yeah, it fucking stings but hey, I’m not dead. I guess this was payback for the little axe fun I had a while ago. A bruised head for a wounded leg.” George laughed.

“That’s not funny George. I really thought you were dead.” Mary took her hands off George’s shoulder, while a frown masked the relief on her face.

“I…I didn’t mean to upset you. It was a joke Mary, I’m so…”

“I thought you were dead! I thought I did it again! I thought it was repeating itself…I thought everyone was going to die again because of me! That’s what’s going to happen right?! Everyone’s going to die because of me! I’m the stupid one! I’m the mad one! I hate myself! I’m tired of being crazy!” Mary wept like a child. Her palms were pressed against her face but that did not stop her tears from kissing the forest grounds.

George was speechless and motionless. He just stared at Mary.

He pitied her. She seemed broken.

“I’m going to be the reason your family dies. I can’t do it anymore! I can’t keep losing people…You have to leave! Your family needs to leave this place! This place reeks of death! I may not remember anything but I do know you’ll keep getting hurt if you stay here. You don’t have to solve any mysteries for me. I’m fine staying in the cabin on my own. I’ve been living this way for a long time haven’t I? Please leave…I’m a demon and I just…I killed them…I probably killed Michael…Blood, bones, fire on bridges…I…” Mary stuttered and after a while she began to scream.

She placed her hands over her chest and began to squeeze her tank top as hard as she could. Her heart felt like it was getting torn apart and the pieces were about to explode out of her chest cavity. Her limbs ached. Her head banged and while she gritted her teeth, they found a way to her pink lips and began to scratch its edges.

George grabbed Mary in his arms.

She may have been older than him but George’s arms went well around Mary’s body. He was bigger than her.

“Shh…It’s okay…No one’s going to die…You’re not a demon, you’re not crazy either. You just need help and you’re going to get it I promise. We’re going to be fine and you’re going to get your memories back.” George comforted her.

He patted her head with his left hand and his right remained wrapped around her slender waist.

Mary’s heart beat at norm rate and the violent vibrations on her limbs and jaws came to a halt.

She could hear George’s heartbeat, with her head pressed against his chest.

He was right, she had not killed him.

He was alive and so was she.

She was thankful for that.

He was right, she needed help.

He had promised to help.

She was thankful for that.

Mary sat up and tore a part of her tank top. Her belly button and waist was left bare.
George blushed.

Mary took the piece of cloth and began to dab the wound on George’s forehead. The wound was not deep but it was a bad bruise. George’s fore head seemed swollen and his skin scarred.

She cleaned off the scabs of blood from his thick eye brows and eyelids.

Mary truly felt sorry for what she had done and wished George would heed her words about leaving the forest.

For a reason unknown, she perceived an evil force that was beyond norm. One that was out to kill.

Mary was unsure if the force would perform its deeds by her hands or another. Whatever way it wished to manifest, Mary wanted George, Todd, Alice, Melody and even Richard far away from the wooden mansion.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I truly am.” Mary apologised.

“It’s alright Mary. It’s fine.”

“Aren’t you going to ask what triggered it? The thing you call ‘episodes’. All done.” Mary said.

She took the piece of cloth darkened by red and squeezed it into one of the pockets on her shorts.

“Oh…I know you’ll tell me and I’ll ask some other time…Anyways I’m sure it’s related to my dad, because you kept yelling ‘stay away’,like you did when you beat him up with a skillet a few weeks ago…right now, we need to get to get to that cabin before my dad gets back. I’ve been out for fifteen minutes…so…we have roughly two hours to get into that cabin, retrieve whatever it is my dad wants from…”

“It’s a book.” Mary cut George’s words short.

“I’m sorry did you just say book?” Surprised George asked.

“Yes. A book. One with a red leather cover and old brown pages to be specific.” Mary explained.

“Hold up…Seriously, first he talks about Chinese and now this? You’re telling me that my dad took me out of my home on a long trek in a strange forest, just to get a book?”

“Yes.”

“A book?”

“Yes.”

“A fucking book?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry Mary. None of it is your fault, trust me. All this time you must have considered yourself crazy but the perfect example of crazy is my father. The dude is insane!” George’s fists shook in anger.

“I’m sorry.” Mary said calmly and the sound of her voice so meek, kept George’s anger in check.

He calmed down like watered flame.

“So, how did you know about the book? Why are you so sure my dad’s after it?”

“I had one of those flash back-vision thingys I told you and Todd about some time ago.”

“A glitch?”

“Yes. A glitch and in it…”

“You know what, this whole thing just moved from interesting to creepy and dangerous. I mean shit, my palms are sweaty. As brave as you may think I am Mary, I’d prefer if we get the book and be on our way home. My dad has proven himself completely unpredictable and the two hours I was so sure of…well assurance doesn’t exist in my heart anymore…you can tell me about the glitch while we walk…Let’s go get that book. Okay?”

“Sure.”

George and Mary stood on their feet and though hurt they kept their hands on each other for support as they made their way to the shed at the foot of the fig tree.

While Mary told George of the events she saw in the glitch she had back at the mansion, George’s ears were focused on every word the damsel spoke, but his eyes examined every bit of the forest for the sake of fear.

Fear of a man he thought he knew so well.

Fear of his father, Dr. Richard Beckham.