“Mr Phillips? Good morning. I’m Doctor Tra ....”

“That’s Captain Phillips to you.”

“I see. I’m Doctor Travers - pleased to meet you, Captain Phillips. I’ve been asked to do a psychiatric assessment on you to see if you are capable of standing trial. Do you understand what that entails?”

“Get on with it, will you?”

“Well, let’s get some details out of the way first, shall we? Today we’re just going to have a chat to clarify your side of this story; the proper in-depth testing starts tomorrow morning. First of all, I’d like to know about these dreams you say you have been having.”

“They’re not dreams, Doctor Travers, they’re nightmares. Which one interests you the most? Iraq? Afghanistan? The one where death comes to claim me at long last? I can’t close my eyes without ....”

“Yes?”

“Oh, what’s the point?”

“Let’s talk about Iraq, shall we, Andru?”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

“Your records show that you were involved in two direct car bomb attacks in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, surviving all three. You lost good friends in two of the attacks. You were discharged from the army suffering from post traumatic stress. Have these nightmares been pretty constant since then?”

“You could say that.”

“I see that you are divorced.”

“She couldn’t take the violent mood swings and the screaming kept waking her up. She’s past history, why bring her up?”

“I see … and Anna? Can you tell me about Anna?”

“She’s dead. She was shot. They blame me. Period.”

“Andru, you own the gun that killed her. Ballistic tests show it was your gun and it was in your possession when you were arrested. Are you denying your guilt?”

“Why are you asking me these things? I don’t know … I don’t know. It’s all a red mist.”

“Okay … okay … calm down. It’s alright. Let’s move on, shall we? Let’s talk about when you first met Anna.”

“She was playing at being a bleeding heart. You know, voluntary work --- feeding the homeless. She was pretending to be a paraplegic.”

“And the purpose of that was…?”

“No purpose at all. She just loved playing games. She had this thing about feeding waifs and strays … something to do with some stupid seagull when she was a kid. She liked dressing up and pretending. Being in a wheelchair was just another role for her to play.”

“So how did your friendship progress?”

“Well, it was an instant attraction. We looked at each other and sort of knew we would get together. She had these amazingly blue eyes … sort of dark and sensuous. I could see that they were contact lenses though. That color was just too violet to be real ... know what I mean? Turns out her natural color was green. You know, she really should have been an actress; she’d also change the color of her hair and you’d swear she was …What was your question again?”

“Did you play roles too, Andru?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“What about Captain Ford?”

“That was Anna’s idea. She was in yet another game-playing mood that day.”

“What happened? Can you tell me?”

“She made a fool out of me, that’s what happened. She told me to play at being famous and virile. She pretended to pick me up; said that every woman in that bar wanted me. Then when we got home and I wanted some ... warmth, she laughed in my face. She said I was old and past it, and that anyone could see I wasn’t a hero. She said she didn’t believe my stories about Afghanistan and Iraq; said I was a coward. A coward! I lived and my friends died, Doc; does that make me a coward? Right then I hated her … hated her!”

“Go on.”

“I had my .45 automatic in the drawer. I took it out and aimed it at her. She laughed! She said I was a weakling who had to rely on pretending to be a hero so as to bolster my ego. She said I wasn’t capable of firing a gun … the same as I wasn’t capable of fighting for my country any more. She called me a coward again and she laughed. Right in my face, she laughed.”

“I see.”

“So I shot her. You should have seen the look on her face. It was priceless. The surprise … the shock … I loved it. I was laughing right back at her now. I shot and shot and shot. And then I poked out those mocking eyes of hers … and I smashed in her skull … and I kicked and kicked and stamped all over her. So who’s laughing now, eh? Who’s laughing now?”

“Not me, Andru … not me.”

“Ha! He always makes me laugh when he does that.”

“What? I fail to see... oh, your sense of humour. I simply cannot understand it. Never have.”

“Oh, come on. You must admit, he has a delightful wit about him. A flair for the dramatic!”

“Yes, that’s the way he’s made, I’m afraid. But it’s not appropriate at all. Especially at a time like that.”

“Don’t be so judgemental.”

“I can’t help it, it’s in my nature.”

“His, as well.... ha!”

“Will you stop it? The occasion calls for a little decorum, does it not? Some solemnity, at least?”

“I don’t to see why. It’s almost always the same. Boring, tedious... and funny!”

“Please, be quiet. Let him finish.”

“Why? They can’t hear. Look, he’s getting ready to make his decision.... at last! They always hope for the best, don’t they.”

“Well, that’s how they’re made. You know that, better than anyone.”

“And yet, so many of them fall.”

“Yes they do.”

“That’s why he’s there, at the end.”

“Yes it is.”

“Why can’t it be you? I’m sure most of them would rather see you, however fleetingly?”

“He is my representative in these matters. I can’t be expected to attend to everything personally, can I? People have the wrong idea about the limit of my abilities. That’s why he’s there. It can’t be me. It can’t be you. He was made for this.”

“He does do it well, he’s a master. Yes, a masterful job..... but he’s so.... prissy, sometimes. And as for his flair for the Grand Guignol?”

“I'm surprised he's not worse! Look at the fictions they’ve made up about him, over the years.”

“Now that would be interesting! Just imagine... if even half of them were true. There would be a revolution!”

“Against whom, exactly? Look what happened last time. A non starter, that was. Remember your place.”

“You don’t need to remind me. You orchestrated all that anyway. Water under the bridge.”

“It proves my point. Reminding you. It proves I know what I’m doing. He is the best choice for a difficult job.”

“I’m not suggesting he isn’t, just that he seems to enjoy it a little too much.”

“Don’t you enjoy your position here, too?”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t? I don’t take delight in it.... well..... yes I do.... but that’s part of my charm. My Modus Operandi, if you will!”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Oh, don’t sulk. I can’t help my nature any more than he can help his.”

“I suppose not. Still, as I said - try to reign in your baser impulses, at least until this is over. Mockery is for the weak and foolish.”

“Look, I told you this is always tedious. And give the ‘holier than thou’ bit a rest, will you?”

“Well, I AM holier than thou. How dare you! You..... ”

“Ha ha ha! You are such an easy target!”

“Oh, how I despise these borderline cases. You always manage to make me lose my temper.”

“There aren’t that many of them. I enjoy these meetings, really. How often do we get to talk, anymore? Most of them are decided long before they arrive in his office.”

“That’s the trouble with my creations, all of them. They grow in ways I never expect. Look at humanity! Give them paradise, and they tear it to pieces arguing about how they should worship me?”

“Or me.”

“Yes, your influence is getting more and more noticeable. I shall have to think about that.”

“Were you about to decry human nature?”

“Not at all. Free will was a core behaviour trait I encouraged. It just seems they choose to ignore it.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure about that. Well, it’s something we might discuss further next time. Death has made his decision.”

“No surprises, really. Phillips was one of yours, from the moment I saw him.”

“I thought so, too. Better luck next time.”

“Better luck? Better choices are what humanity needs to make, Lucifer. Better choices.”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Oh my God, did you see her hair?”

“Yeah, totally WTF. But forget about her hair, did you see the skirt she’s wearing? It‘s like, uh, hello, Fashion Police? I need to report a casualty…?”

“Oh my God, like, LOL. You’re too funny. Did you see the way she kept staring at Jason?”

“Yeah, like she’s never seen a boy before. Like, uh, Drool Factory, hello? I think one of your test subjects has escaped…?”

“Uh, yeah, and ended up in Mr. Dreiser’s class with the rest of us. What happened there? She, like, answered every question he asked us today. Like, what was up with that?”

“She must not have a life. She probably spends all her time alone in her room reading or something.”

“I think she’s a show off. She thinks that being smart will make everyone like her or something. Well, she needs to guess again.”

“Totally. Like, she probably wonders why she has only Tom as a friend on her MySpace page.”

“Totally LOL. Tom’s probably her best friend. She, like, IM’s him and stuff.”

“LOL, like, he’s her cyber boyfriend. But he only goes out on cyber dates with her because he doesn’t really know what she looks like.”

“Yeah, he probably thinks she looks just like Mylie Cyrus, because that’s who she put up as her user pic.”

“Exactly. Um, wait. Really? Did you see it?”

“No. Duh! I just met her today, remember? The same as you. I was kidding. I don’t know what her MySpace account name even is.”

“Oh yeah. Well, she probably doesn’t even know what MySpace is. I bet she probably doesn’t even have a computer.”

“Like, everyone has a computer, duh. But she probably just blogs about the fate of the sperm whales or something like that.”

“Yeah, only no one reads it. Or else she blogs about crappy Indie music or something.”

“Or maybe crappy retro movies.”

“Or stupid news articles she reads. Like anyone cares.”

“She probably blogs about her stupid, boring life. And she probably wonders why no one ever leaves comments, not even to tell her that she’s a stupid, boring cow who doesn’t know how to dress.”

“LOL. She probably sent Tom an invitation to her blog.”

“Yeah, and she wonders why he’s never left a comment.”

“Tom’s her friend, remember? He’s too nice to tell her she’s a stupid, boring cow.”

“LOL.”

“Yeah, totally, LOL.”

“Anyway, like, what was her name? I can’t remember.”

“I kind of think she said her name was Mindy or something. Something that started with an M, anyway.”

“So… Do you think we should ask her to sit with us at lunch?”

“Yeah, I liked her. What do you think?”

“I liked her too. We should save her a seat or something.”

“Totally.”

“I worry about her, you know? She wants to go to the beach everyday. The doctors say that sea air is good for her and getting out of the house, is a bonus we should be enjoying. Most kids with her issues don’t even want to get out of bed.”

“What I don’t understand, is why she wants tuna fish sandwiches everyday; you know darn well she won’t even touch fish sticks! I know the chemo wipes out her appetite, but does it make her have odd cravings?”

“I think she made a friend on the beach. I can’t be sure it’s the same one, but this seagull has her pegged. Every day it shows up and steals her sandwich. I try running it off and Maggie admonishes me not to. She says they have an “understanding”. She’s very secretive about it and blushes furiously when I ask her about it. I let it drop, and everyday it shows up and she makes a big show out of “testing” the sandwich and setting it aside. She leaves to look for shells and it hops in and eats it up!”

“She’s always such a quiet child. I guess if a couple of cans of tuna and a daily trip to the beach are all it takes to keep her calm and happy, we should count ourselves lucky. Her new wig is a little large, how long do you think it will take for her to grow into it?”

“Oh, it’s not that big! It will look ok in another month or so. I admit that it does make her look so much older than she is. I wish she would let me cut it for her, but she says that if I cut it, it won’t last as long. I nearly cried right in front of her; how brave she is. Sometimes, I worry about weather we should have been as honest about her condition as we were. She knows there’s only a small chance that she will go into remission.

“Oh, honey don’t cry. It will be ok. She is responding very well to the chemo. The doctors think they got it all and that she will be in remission. They say it’s a very promising prognosis! Here now, wipe these tears away; you know you did everything you can for her! The best doctors, the best treatments, the best well, everything! We did the best we can, and it shows in her. She is a sweet child who happens to be living with cancer. She is strong and will overcome it and be a better person because of it. There now, that’s better!”

“This letter came today. It's been what - six months of agony waiting to reach this part?. I couldn’t open it until you got home. My stomach is in knots. This is it! If they got it all and she is clear, then we can celebrate. If they didn’t….”

“Sweetie, don’t think that way! It’s all good news! She is so bright and happy lately and is doing wonderfully; this letter is going to prove that! This letter is going to confirm that she’s in remission and cancer free.

“Let’s not count our blessings, we still haven’t even opened the letter! Oh my god”

“What? What does it say? Is it good new or bad?”

“Oh John, she’s in remission. Her last scan is clean! Our baby is going to be ok! John? Oh no, don’t you start crying too!

“I was hoping she'd enjoy that dinner celebration more than she did. That was rather odd. She didn’t get excited or anything else. She just calmly looked at us and said, ‘I know. I never doubted it.’ When I took her to the bathroom to clean up after dessert, I asked how she could be so sure. She looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes and whispered that she had a deal with God. I asked what she meant and she told me that God had come to her in a dream. He told her that every day, he would send an angel down to help her. When she met that gull at the beach, she figured that was her angel. She felt bad that it had to make that long flight from heaven everyday, so gave it a sandwich to give it the strength to fly back home.”

"Mike, who was that hot little thing you had slung over your arm the other night? I know that wasn't Mrs. Johnson."

"Hey! Ease up, Frank. Guys like us need a little fun, don't ya think? Yeah, just pull into there. I heard from Marty that this place has great coffee."

"Oh, Sweet Jesus, not this place again- What's wrong? Mike?"

"Nothin', nothin'. I just thought I saw something."

"Something? Something like what? There ain't been nothin' on the radio."

"It's nothin', Frank. Really. I'm just... Just a little shook up, ya know? I mean, this town- Black please. No sugar- This town ain't really ever had nothin' happen like that."

"You talkin' about the O'Reilly case? Yeah. That was rough. How he did that to that pretty little blonde..."

"It wasn't just that. Didn't you ever hear Lee talkin' about it? He was the one who got called to the scene. Said there was blood everywhere. And O'Reilly, that piece-of-"

"Mike! There's kids in here. You don't wanna get another report, do ya?"

"Sorry. But O'Reilly, they found him just sittin' there. Right in the middle of the floor, with that girl's blood just pooling around him. And you know what Lee said? Lee said that man was laughin'. Just laughin', like he done won the lottery or something. I tell ya."

"There sure are some bad people in this world. Bad, bad people. Well, you about ready?"

"Yeah, sure Frank. Ya know what? I think I'm gonna spend some time with Mrs. Johnson tonight."

"Well, kid, are you all settled in and ready for training?"

")(^%&)U*?")$(%^&@#^&()_^%?

"Sure, training. You're just a novice closet monster... and I'm your teacher. You need polishing up. That's why I live in a shoebox, and you inhabit a dustball. Now, I purposely waited until the kid's Mom got him his glass of water and tucked him in. I've been working on this one for about three months. I figure he'll last at least another year if I play my cards right... It'll take his folks at least that long to convince him I don't exist.

He's got a little sister who'll be ready by then, and you can drive her nuts. She's already nervous as a two-tailed cat.

"&^)(#??")@@$&(^*$%%$#)%>?

"No, the parents, like all grown-ups, don't believe in us. Would you believe it, they can't hear or see us. The noise we make they attribute to wind, or other natural causes. Wanna play?"

")(&^%()&*%!"

"Remind me I gotta teach you English. What natural sounds can you make?"

"^%$#&(^%_(*&&^$, )(*&^< *&%_)(^$#@"

"The gibbering scream and low, mournful moans are OK, but the slobbering sounds and lip-smacking went out in the sixties... we used that up on the Flower Children. We gave ‘em some great neghtmares when they were high, with that stuff. Try to work in a creaking door, or a hungry wolf's growl... maybe a maniacal laugh. The average six-year old fills his pants when he thinks you're gonna eat him up. OK, the kid has had five minutes to settle down, so.... watch this. We start with a low, long moan, add I"M HUNGRY TONIGHT... oooh, listen to that kid shriek. I'll bet he wet himself. Listen to him scream for Mommy.."

"@##$%&*)($%^!$#)(&^%?"

"You bet I like my work. I almost lost it last year, though. I got a kid who not only believed in me, he liked me. The little house-ape used to sit up nights just to talk to me.

It's unnerving, I tell ya. I was just on the edge when the family moved out. One more month and I'd have been ready for a rubber room. Looks like she's got him calmed down.

She'll probably leave the night-light on this time... yep. You make that gibbering laugh sound when I say... One, two, three... now. I'll add a creaking door sound and the rustle of slithering tentacles... OOOO-oooh, God, I LOVE IT! he came right up off the bed that time. I'll bet the folks on the next block heard that scream. Here comes Dad, this time."

")(&*@#$%?"

"What's it look like he's doing. He's showing the kid that there's nothing in here. He's got the light on, and a flashlight. He sees nothing... therefore, the kid sees and hears nothing. Suuure, he don't. Watch this. THAT got a good yell... the kid just saw a very realistic werewolf, dripping fangs and all.'

")(&*^%$%#@!!"

"No. Like I said, grownups can't see or hear us... unless they're stoned or roaring drunk.

Relax, and let him calm the kid down for a while. Later, we'll entertain him with very quiet chuckles and whispers every ten minutes or so... just enough to keep him from going to sleep."

"OK. It's three AM. He's so damn sleepy he can hardly keep his eyes open, and so touchy he'll probably crap in his shorts when I do this oooooaaaaaailiilliihhhhh...EEE EEOOOOARRRGH! I GOTCHA!....OOOH God, I LOVE MY JOB."

")(*&&*(^"

"I won... but I lost?"

")(&)(*^&*&^^%$%#$, )(*(&^, )(^&%&^%_!"

"Oh, he crapped himself, but he'd already fallen out of bed? "Oh, well. Another time, maybe. So much for tonight. If I keep this up the poor kid'll have a heart attack... and my job is to drive him nuts, not kill him. We'll let him sleep a little. There's Mom again, to clean him up and hug him and croon to him. Tomorrow night, every half hour on the dot, all night... it's Monster Mash time. While we're at it, let's spend tomorrow with me teaching you some cool sound effects."

"&)(%*&^%$#(*&+_)&^*"?"

“Look their yonder, behind the trees, that beauty, surrounded by those beasts. Her name is Maris, we will capture her. The King will pay a hefty sum for her return, and if not, then she will be my slave, she will give me pleasure. I hear that she was a wh0re, her experience will be most inciting. I can imagine it now, her tender skin rubbing against mine. Ohh how i wince at the thought of it."


 “Master, how will we deal with those guards?”


 “Creature you have a weapon, no? Well I suggest you stop quivering and use it, as I will use my own. They are only four men, and the prize could be worth one thousand, maybe more. That beauty will be mine by nightfall.”


“Yyyes Master, you are unerring, th-the fault is my own. Who should I aim for Master?”


 "I am still in awe, mesmerized even, at her capturing essence, she has ‘no apparent beauty’ but there was something about her, something above the norm of picturesque beauty. The compilation of her features, her ebony curls, her olive eyes, the texture of her skin wrapped tightly over her powerful yet feminine bone-structure. Light shines down from the heavens upon this beauty, I must have her.”

“Master, what are you whispering, I cannot understand. Who should I aim for?” 




 “Yes Creature, aim for the closest guard behind her, and I will aim for the one in front of her. After they are down, aim for the other one behind her. Aim for their heads. Do not miss. I will aim for your head, if you miss. Understood?”




 “Yes, yes Master”




 “Ready... Aim... Steady... Steady... NOW!!!”