_____Miss Wie called me and told me Nemesis needed help and I had a vision, I tried to find the place it showed me, so I could help them. In my vision, I saw a whole bunch of faces . . . people I didn’t know, people I did know . . . all in a dark, blurry background. The feeling that I needed to help and help quickly was pervasive and immense, weighing down on my shoulders heavily. Words kept whispering in my ear, pushing me onward.
_____It’s Nemesis . . . hurt . . . help . . . quick . . .
_____I knew I had reached the right place when I saw the spirit man. He had been the one whispering to me, but I didn’t see him until I got to the building. He led me up some stairs and through a door.
_____Even though my vision said it was Mr. Nemesis that needed help, the only man I saw in the room was a spirit and floating in the air. As soon as I entered, he told me to help the pretty lady with red hair curled on the floor. She was clutching her tummy and groaning. My hands began glowing as I knelt beside her, and I healed the bruises on her face . . . I sensed she was hurt even worse than that, so I put more energy into her.
_____I asked the spirit man hovering over her if he was Mr. Nemesis and apologized because I was too late to save him, but he just told me to help the hurt lady.
_____I tried to help her more, but she started thrashing about and beating herself and moaning awful things. She accidentally hit me once, but I don’t think she meant to. An oppressive feeling started filling the air. I suddenly felt cold, really, really cold.
_____Then the door burst open, and I saw a man with peach’s hair on his cheeks, his teeth tightly holding a wooden cigar, and his hand on a gun. I held myself so that if he shot the hurt lady, he would hurt me but not her.
_____But he didn’t shoot. He looked very surprised to see me. Then he gave the Secret Lazlo Handshake.
_____His face was one of the faces I saw in my vision, but it didn’t feel right to go with him.
_____P.S. The spirit man thanked me for my help and followed Mr. Sebastian with the hurt lady.
_____P.S., again. I’m so confused. I thought I needed to help Mr. Nemesis, but I was obviously too late to help him. So why did he leave with Mr. Skeptic and say it was okay if I stayed?
_____P.S. again. Again. How did that help him if he was already dead when I got there?

I had received a private SOS from Nemesis giving me a hotel room to go to. I won't say how I got a key to the room. When I swung open the door there were two people in the room. One was Steph, laying on the floor in a weeping fetal ball clutching her stomach.

I did not recognise the second one. As soon as I had come through the door she covered Steph with her body, perhaps noticing that I had my hand on my gun. I did not get a good look at this person but already I knew that she was a young girl and wasn't apparently a threat to Steph's well-being. I issued the identity challenge. The young girl turned to me and responded with the appropriate sign.

She gave the sign very accurately and distinctly and waited, looking excited.

"Who are you?" I asked.

She said that she was Clarity Grace. I never met her before although we have done a few exchanges here on the forums from time to time.

But before she could say anything I said, "we have to get this person," I said while pointing to Steph, "out of here. It's not safe here." Just at this moment my mobile phone range. It was cab312, who I had called to be my driver. "West entrance, that's around back, right?" I listened to his response. "Very well, we're on our way, mate." I asked Clarity if she was going with us. She said that she wasn't, looking a little uncomfortable in my presence. Then again, I just ripped open the door with my hand on the ugliest gun in the universe apparently there to kill Steph.

Clarity let me work. I scopped Steph up off the bed although she was resisting me, she lacked any will to truly resist. She's stronger than she looks but she wasn't fighting me, I still managed to get up off the bed and to the point where it was walk or fall. She walked--rather, she stumbled. On our way out the door I shouldered Steph's duffel bag and walked Steph and the duffel out of the hotel to where Mack was waiting with the car. As I pulled the door open I had a major Vietnam flashback, the whole nine yards. I even forgot for a moment where I was. I felt like I was right in the thick of the war. I felt like I was loading casualties under fire.

I put Steph in the back seat, buckled her in safely and gave Mack an address. And as I was getting into the passenger seat, Mack jammed the gas pedal through the floor board and pinned back into my seat and caused my door to slam shut.

I was sick from the flashback. It was the strongest I can remember in 20 years, possibly more. I blinked rapidly trying to wipe the images from my eyes and get them out of my head. But Mack snapped me back into the here and now.

"What is this place?" Mack asked me.

"I asked Becky to plan a party for us," I responded, my nerves were wracked, but I tried to remain collected.

The car got some air as we went over the lip of the hotel parking lot. When the tires regained contact on the pavement the white smoke and beautiful smell of burning rubber filled my nostrils.

"Easy, mate," skeptic said, white knuckles gripping the handle bar.

"This is," I said, being honest.

I was peeping my rear view mirror when I saw a large, black SUV burst through the smoke of my tires and barreling down on us. I scoffed. "I hope that's not armored," I said to myself, "at least then it would sort of be a challenge." And then I said to skeptic, "hold on," and cranked the wheel left to cross some lanes of on-coming traffic.

I couldn't see the SUV or hear its tires protest what the driver would try to do with it over the roaring of my own engine, but I knew that our security had just improved.

We made our way to skeptic's party planner, or at least where were told to go.

It was an empty abandoned and boarded up place with a back door entrance that was well concealed.

As skeptic got out of the vehicle he was looking around and looking just as tense as Nemesis looked the first night we meet when I was doing psychometry on the items removed from the residence.

Skeptic drew the ugliest handgun I have ever seen, a pearl-handled .45 Cold with a blinding shine. "Let's go, mate," he said, motioning with his head towards Steph.

I helped get Steph inside the safe house which had a small care package waiting for us. "Your car stands out like a ton of diamonds, mate," skeptic said, his suggestion being crystal clear.

My years of black ops and wet works--even if they were entirely in my imagination--did teach me a thing or two. I concealed the vehicle. Returned to where skeptic was with Steph, who was back into weeping ball mode, "what now?"

"We wait for now. I'll let you know," he said. "Can you do that?" he asked.

Being a patient man, I nodded.

Nemesis choose to help.

Nemesis choose to confront your nightmare (alone).

Nemesis choose to live a life of violence and danger.

They knew the score going in, probably better than most of us.

He chose to help you, Hannah but you shouldn't feel any guilt over that. You inspired a bad person to do a good thing. There's not many who can do that.

Hannah wrote:What happened to Nemesis - did you find him?

C, tell me that wasn't Nemesis' ghost.

First I asked him to help and then he runs into my nightmare . . . this is all my fault.

You're jumping to conclusions. You shouldn't do that. And none of it is your fault.

Let's not jump to conclussions. Miss Clarity wrote that she saw a spirit she did not recognize. Even is the spirit did confirm its identity, it could have been lying. I myself have sabserved spirits deceive and confuse. No one saw a body.

That's jumping to conclusions.

Not doing that is sort of the point here.

I disagree with that conclusion jump, too, but ok.

He's got far bigger fish to fry than you, I'm sure.

It's like you didn't even listen to what she said.

Just you and Hannah are under that assumption, it seems.

I advocated not jumping to that conclusion just yet.

I only trust well-reasoned opinions. And hers isn't well-reasoned, it's reactionary.

Especially if it is used to base action upon. Even if not, I still do. She's kicking herself for something that she doesn't even know happened and even if it did she shouldn't be kicking herself for it. Her reaction doesn't make sense in this universe.

That doesn't excuse it.

There's nothing wrong with demanding more of ourselves, however.

Eilonwy Solstice wrote:It’s been suggested that Nemesis was killed on a number of threads; however, I’m only going to post my answer here, and post it only once, because I’ve suddenly found myself extremely busy with a number of projects.

Don’t count Nemesis out just yet. Shattered minds are difficult to piece back together. Give me time.

Can you be certain that the mind you've identified as shattered and belonging to Nemesis isn't just one mind of a team of minds called Nemesis?

That sounds complicated, doesn't it?

What I mean to say is are you sure that the person you're helping is the only 'Nemesis'?