ONCE I GOT to Denice's house, I texted her, not wishing to wake her parents up. She came to open the door, looking somewhat displeased, though I could tell she was also happy to see me. Brushing my hair behind my ear, I followed her inside, watching as she shut the door and locked it. Heading upstairs, I changed, realizing that all of my friends were staying in the living room. After taking off my makeup and pulling my hair back as well, I found myself heading back to the living room, confused when I saw Gloria and Trevor very openly kissing.

"They've been doing that for at least ten minutes," Jake said once I sat down, facing the television so as not to watch them. "Isn't it terrible?"

"Not terrible, just ... strange?" Denice agreed.

They glanced back over their shoulder, both of them rolling their eyes. I wondered what made Trevor and Gloria finally decide to give in. Then again, even if they were interested in one another they certainly didn't need to make out in front of all of us.

"So, what did East End Executioner have to say, V?" Denice started.

I swallowed hard, knowing I couldn't tell them what he had actually asked me. "Um, I'm not sure, really. Well, I am sure, he just was talking in some sort of lingo. He said something like, 'They owe me so much money, and I'm just pissed about the whole thing,' or things like that."

"Why did he want to talk to you about stupid stuff like that?" Jake asked.

"Yeah, that doesn't make sense," Denice agreed.

"Well, I don't know. We met because of where I live. He's the one I ran into when I was walking that one night, so I guess I'm indebted to him now or something."

They nodded slowly, seeming to kind of understand. As I was thinking about it, I wondered if that was truly had Curly thought. After all, I had fallen into his arms that one night after my dad had hit me, so maybe he thought that I owed him or something. Then again, he was telling me that I was strong and that was why he had wanted me to be his middle woman, whatever that was. I knew he only knew I was strong though because of all of our run ins. Trying to ignore the ideas, I laid back, scoffing when I glanced at the sofa to see Trevor very carelessly had his hand up Gloria's shirt.

"How gross," I muttered lowly, sitting up, and looking at Denice.

"Can I go sleep in your room? I don't think I can listen to kissing noises all night."

"We can ... hear you," Trevor said from the sofa between kisses. He pulled away, Gloria sitting up beside him. "Sorry, we just got into it."

"Clearly," Denice stated.

They both smiled nervously, but got up from the sofa, heading to the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, not wishing to know what they were doing in there. Though to my surprise, they came out a few minutes later with water for all of us, sitting on the ground as well. Once situated, we started playing games, and thought it was funny that Trevor and Gloria could barely keep their hands to themselves, but I guess they were just glad to have finally started doing whatever they were doing with the approval from all of us.

« « «

When it was really Halloween, I decided to stay home. Or, the Red Rum Inn, I should have said. Denice, Jake, Gloria, and Trevor were disappointed, but I told them I had never really enjoyed the actual holiday. Sure, I went to Halloween parties, but the holiday was definitely not something I enjoyed at all. Walking downstairs, I sat with Marla at the front desk. She smiled at me, the two of us talking about random things.

"But that still doesn't explain your dislike for the holiday," she said. "And wasn't there a Halloween party tonight you were going to?"

"No, it was Saturday. And I'm not sure, I just never liked the day that children and adults went around dressed in costume."

"Hmm."

I shrugged, helping her sort papers. They had to do with bills for each customer, and once we were finished, we had more to do. This went on for quite some time, the two of us discussing random things about either my school, or what the craziest thing was she had seen each holiday.

"Probably the guy whose face I legitimately couldn't see. I mean, he had a white face, and I couldn't even make out facial features. That was pretty scary."

"Wow. I think the scariest I've ever seen was someone who had really good face makeup on, and it looked like I could see into the side of their cheek."

"You never know," she commented, shrugging her shoulders. "It could have been someone from the dead. After all, they're allowed to come back for a day. At least, that is what I always believed."

I set the papers down, looking at her oddly. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive, sugar. I've seen several of them with my own eyes, and I knew that they were too good to have been fake. Especially when half their head is missing, or things like that."

"So, you believe in an afterlife?" I asked.

"Not an afterlife," she told me. "More so the thought of, you know, coming back from a different world after death."

"Would you come back?" I asked.

Marla nodded, telling me about how she would like to see the city every year. Nodding, I started doing paper work again, uncertain where she had learned such a thing. Surely, I had seen it in books before, but never once had I thought it was true. Brushing my hair back, I glanced at Marla, about to ask her a question when the front door was pulled open. There was someone in a black trench coat, the person walking past the front desk without even a glance. They then pulled a door open that Curly usually went into on certain nights, the person entering the hallway and letting the door shut behind them.

"I wonder who that was," I commented.

"Beats me. All those Executioners look the same after a while."

Nodding, I sat back in my chair, watching as more people in trench coats came in. They all went into that hallway, and I watched as they shut the door behind them. It wasn't long before I noticed Curly come into the building, the dark-haired boy wearing a similar trench coat to the rest as he walked through the lobby, his eyes a dark shade. I figured he was going to pass Marla and I without a second though, but to my surprise he stopped, turning to look at me.

"Come downstairs with me," he said lowly.

"What? No, absolutely—"

"Listen to him, sugar," Marla agreed.

"What do you mean listen to him?" I scoffed. "I don't understand why—"

The sounds of gunshots outside were very obvious to me, Marla shewing me out from behind the desk. She promised she would be fine, and Curly assured it as well. Walking around the counter, I felt his hand grasp my upper arm, pulling me into the hallway. There were more latches than I would have guessed, the boy quickly doing all of them before we walked down the hall. It led to a set of stairs, another door being shut behind us before we went down them. Curly latched a few more doors on our way down, the boy finally opening a door and telling me to go inside. I followed his orders, watching as he shut and locked the last door also. It was in this moment that I wished I had gone to Denice's house to hand out candy to kids or something. I was terrified of what was happening, my body stilling when I was faced with a bunch of men and women wearing black trench coats.

"I have someone for all of you to meet," Curly began suddenly, placing his hands on my shoulders. "This is V, our middle woman."

"Curly, I didn't agree to—"

"I know," he whispered lowly. "But they don't trust people easily."

Nodding slowly, he pulled back. The group was looking over me with harsh stares and I felt completely bare in front of them. It was so odd to have so many different people looking at me, my heart racing in my chest. Glancing behind me, I was shocked to find that Curly was no longer there, trying to locate him. When I couldn't spot him, I felt myself freaking out, my cheeks flushing when I managed to trip and land on the ground. Before now, I had been so focused on people staring at me that I hadn't noticed the rusty colored stains in the room, but I certainly noticed them while I was on my hands and knees on the floor.

"Are you sure that you want her as our middle woman, sir?" a guy asked from the front of the room back to where Curly had gone. "She doesn't look—"

"She's good," he stated, his voice the only one speaking in the room. "I don't think she's ever seen a man shot before, though. Probably not even tortured for that matter."

They all looked at me with surprised eyes, and I scrambled to try and not feel so on edge in front of them. Curly was interested in a girl toward the back of the room, but I ignored it, freezing up when I heard slamming from the door behind me. How Curly had managed to get to the other side of the room without me truly noticing was still a shock, but I decided that wasn't anything important. Not when I could see on his face he was worried. There were only seconds between Curly standing on one side of the room and him booking it toward me. The men and women around me had their weapons out, Curly pressing me up against the wall as the door slammed open while his fingers touched the wall near my waist. There had already been gunshots, and Curly distracted me when I practically fell backward, the boy stepping inside with me and shutting the ... door? It didn't even look like a door was present, so the fact that we were now in another room was a shocker.

"Where are—?"

"Don't talk," he murmured.

It was pitch black, and I couldn't see a thing. I felt myself slowly beginning to freak out, the sound of gun fight just beyond the walls a terrible thought to me. Suddenly, I felt a hand grasp mine, pulling me to follow. I figured it was Curly, the two of us heading through another door. It was slightly brighter, and I was confused when we made our way out beside the Red Rum Inn, Curly glancing around briefly.

"You're not going to worry about your friends?"

"Friends?" he asked.

"Yeah, downstairs. All your friends are down there, aren't you worried?"

"Love, I don't have friends. I can't. Not if I want to get my job done properly."

I raised an eyebrow, not understanding.

"If I have friends, that means I care. And if I care, then that could lead to a weakness and that isn't an option in my line of work."

Glancing at him, I felt confused. He had just saved me from all out gun battle, and I didn't understand why. Sure, I wasn't part of his group, so maybe he saw me as some sort of issue he had to get out of the place, but that seemed overly nice of him.

"Then why did you bring me with you?" I asked.

"Well, I can't have my middle woman dying on me, now can I, Veronica?"

"I guess not, Curly."

He sighed, taking off his beanie and running his fingers through his hair before pulling the hat back on. I had seen his curls for a solid three seconds, and I couldn't lie about how beautiful his hair was. It was a sin to keep it hidden under a hat, in my opinion. However, the thoughts were gone when he appeared displeased, green eyes lingering on me for a minute. I didn't think I had done anything wrong, but by the look on his face it felt like that wasn't the case. Biting the inside of my cheek, I hesitantly glanced at the ground before making eye contact with him once more. And finally, he decided to speak up.

"My name is H, and you will refer to me as that from now on."