• She's Gone.

Posted: **Tue Apr 01, 2008 3:42 pm**

I remembered that because it made me think of the Nickelback song "Photograph"... I willed into existence a photograph of the memory of Hannah and me, sitting in front of my computer, me teaching her a few modern songs I knew she'd like... On the back of the photograph was the lyrics for the Three Days' Grace song "Never Too Late"... (Yeah, I know, there's a lot of music in this story. Deal.)

Hey, at least its good music.

Posted: **Tue Apr 01, 2008 5:41 pm**

KonThaak wrote:I dunno... No matter how one of us may reach her, she always treats the next one the same.

Remember all the stuff he did to my mind.

Heck I still have chunks of time missing.

Posted: **Tue Apr 01, 2008 6:02 pm**

I've made the appropriate arrangements....

Posted: **Tue Apr 01, 2008 10:02 pm**

We now have a location of where to find Hannah. I am organizing a effort to get to her, and get her back home.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:12 am**

Shadow, come find me when it's time...

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:34 am**

Of course.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:35 am**

Ron’s been arrested for Hannah’s kidnapping. I managed to convince the police they don’t need to take me to the hospital, but they’re still gathering my bed sheets anyway; and anything else that has blood on it.

Yes, it’s all mine, but they want to test it anyway.

More details as I get the time.

Love you, everyone.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:36 am**

...what? On what grounds?

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:39 am**

Huh? Oh crap tell us what is going on as soon as you can.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:54 am**

The fuck?????

Alright, thats it. Ron's getting my help whether he wants it or not.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 1:06 am**

I am going to call in a favor with the local PD and see if I can get a few answers.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:23 pm**

Oh, FUCK THAT BULLSHIT!!!!

Shad, we'd better move NOW if we're going to help Ron.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 10:17 pm**

The police dropped me off home once the hospital doctor okayed my leave of the protective custody room. They tried inserting the few odd questions as I dressed behind the privacy curtain.

I decided to be completely honest with them.

“So do you know who beat you?”

“It was Not Ron.”

“Do you think you could identify the culprit if you came across him again?”

“Well, I’m certain it was Not Ron.”

“Do you know who your culprit was?”

“Yes; it was Not Ron.”

They poked and prodded me with questions, and I answered them with the truth . . . the vague truth, but the truth nevertheless. My eyes had not been gouged out, I had come into the world without them. No, Ron had never locked me up. No, the blood on my nightdress was not Ron’s fault in anyway. No, I didn’t want to talk about the fact that I had been beaten within an inch of my life and the tears on my nightie had coincided with knives and the bruises along my body had somehow not broken my bones. Could I just go home, please?

When they dropped me off, it was to a chill, silent home. I briefly considered calling Ted and asking if I could stay the night, but then discarded the idea. I couldn’t burden Kelly with the pretense of not knowing me in front of her father. Besides, if Ron was released, I wanted to be home when he returned. So I went about the house quietly, taking a bath and changing into fresh clothing and eating dry cereal for dinner. I really didn’t feel like cooking.

creak . . . creak . . . creak . . . creak . . . .

“Ron?” I stood in excitement as I heard the footsteps going down the stairs. The footsteps paused at the top, and slowly descended . . . creak . . . creak . . . creak.

“Ron?” I asked more hesitantly as the bottom step continued to moan . . . and went back up again.

The tiny hairs at my nape jiggled, my skin turned cold and goosebumps rose along my forearms. I tried to Open myself, but my head immediately ached with exhaustion and Closed without Opening; I had been awake far too long and my nerves were frayed. I had used up all my energy trying to figure out what was going on.

The footsteps continued to patrol the staircase.

“Please, is there someone here?” I tried to intercept the walker and stand in its way. But there was no answer, and the creaking continued. A shudder tuned through my body as, in succession, the stair below me creaked, and proceeded on to the one I stood upon and went right along its course, completely undeterred and unabated by my plea. The invisible presence went up and down, passing through me as though I didn’t exist. I simply stood there, facing downward with my arms held out to hold each banister, listening and breathing quietly, not moving in the least.

It was on the third trip up the stairs, that the presence pulled another about face . . . and I had the distinct impression that eyes were staring at my back.

“Oh!”

The back door had banged open . . . had I forgotten to shut it? I was so tired . . . I rushed down the steps and down the hall, closing and locking the door. I set my back against the door, a sob crashing through my brittle throat. My back slid down the length of the floor, my arms entwining around my shins.

“Ron . . . Hannah . . . please come back,” I begged the air, weeping into my forearms.

The sounds of the house were my only answer.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 11:04 pm**

I called Ted... They have no solid evidence against Ron, and he's "probably" getting psych evaluations which *should* clear his name, sooner or later... In the meantime, they're performing an unconstitutional holding, under the assumption that Ron is a terrorist, and will continue questioning him until he reveals information about Hannah's whereabouts, or they're satisfied that he knows nothing.

Bail has been denied.

I don't know what to do... I'm exhausted, but I'm not sick anymore...

Shadow, if you don't get this rolling right now, I'm going back tomorrow night.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 11:29 pm**

KT, don't do anything stupid. You'll get yourself killed if you go back to wherever Not Ron has Hannah. Regain your strength, and keep a level head. Ron's tough, he can survive some time in jail.

This goes for all of us. This is an emotional time, no denying that, but we are not going to do Hannah any good if we get killed doing something stupid and half-thought out. So stay cool, and trust in the people who are working their hardest to find Hannah.

Ellie, I...I'm in DC, should you need someone to talk to, or just someone to watch over the place, til Ron and Hannah are back. They WILL be back.

Posted: **Wed Apr 02, 2008 11:46 pm**

GS, I appreciate the thought, I really do... That's why I'm not going out *tonight*. I just don't have the energy, tonight...

This isn't about Ron being in jail, either. It's about Hannah being stuck in...in that *place*. I'm not entertaining fantasies of being able to rescue her... I can't physically go in there. If I did that, you'd be right--I *would* be killed. I can only dream my way in there, to make sure I wake up in the morning.

Hannah deserves to know what's going on... Even if Not Ron is wiping out tracts of her memory every time we go...she deserves to know what's going on. She needs to be reminded that we're fighting to get her out of there. That's what I'm trying to do, to bring her hope, and make sure she doesn't give up.

I can't get her out of there... I'm not going in physically, so the best I could do would be to get her into my own dreams...and Not Ron has already invaded those before, managed to escape me. I cannot entertain fantasies that he wouldn't be able to get in and get back out again with Hannah...if I managed to get her out of there at all. I'm only dreaming, so I can't be killed...but she's there. If they open fire at both of us while I was trying to get her out...

...no. I'm not even thinking about that. Just, no.

Just...trust me, GS, I'm not playing some fool wannabe hero that's gonna go get himself killed. I'm just trying to make sure she doesn't give up on us...

Think of it as a care package, if you will.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 12:17 pm**

I got home about 30 minutes ago . . . they bought into Wie's tale of when I left for work in the morning and checked my security cameras for when I arrived. They figured out that I couldn't have gone to the planetarium to pick up Hannah.

Which I was telling them and Wie was telling them.

Still, didn't stop them from making sure that the guy they roomed me with last night knew I was there for doing a bad thing to a little girl.

Poor guy was kinda clumsy . . . he got up in the night and tripped and fell on his shiv.

Five times.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 3:16 pm**

Damn, thats clumsy alright.

Glad to hear that your out of the slammer.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 3:28 pm**

Second time I've been in one . . . I'm starting to wonder if I might do something rather foolish if someone tries to put me back in for a third time.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 3:45 pm**

Or someone's pulling the cops' strings.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 4:02 pm**

A disturbing possibility.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 4:17 pm**

Not without precedent in this case.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 4:50 pm**

How so?

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 4:53 pm**

My evil alternate has shown the ability to,a nd no hesitations about, rewiring people's brians to suit his ends.

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 4:58 pm**

Damn, so now we have to watch out for re-wired innocents, as well as the bad guys.

Does a Living Nightmare have a soul?

Posted: **Thu Apr 03, 2008 5:18 pm**

I'll leave the debates about the existence of souls to others.

But no matter what, in this case, I'd have to say no.

Posted: **Fri Apr 04, 2008 12:13 am**

If it has a soul, it is the same black, corrupted soul of a demon's. In other words, if he has a soul, it's not one worth worrying about.

Posted: **Sat Apr 05, 2008 10:56 pm**

I hate the waiting.

Posted: **Sun Apr 06, 2008 6:19 am**

That's always the worst part.

Oh and Caliburn, if you need an extra set of guns when you go after this one, let me know, I hate it when they go after kids.

Posted: **Sun Apr 06, 2008 9:18 am**

If guns were the solution, I'd be out there myself instead of here waiting.

She's Gone.

I’m Headed Out . . . to the Police Station . . .

It is a Terrible Ordeal, Being Alone . . .