Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

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RE: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby cernote74 » Fri Aug 27, 2010 7:55 am

      Lost in love and you don't know much, Lost in love and you don't know much, are the lost music lyrics from my past that I never expected to hear from again. I should have deleted the name with that ring-tone from my phone long ago.

      The motel room is dark, but the large spotlight that lights up the Motel six sign in front of my room is casting a white beam through the thin space between the the thick curtains. The green digital numbers on the clock radio read 2:30 am. I wipe my eyes and feel the headache that I had no feeling of while I was sleeping pound against my forehead. Lost in love and you don't know much sings from the cell again.

     "Hello, Julie." Nothing more surprises me in this world. The heart is tired and had enough, I shouldn't make it work.

     "Jesse." my name came out between tears and gasp.

     Then a horrifying scream pierced through the receiver and a deeper voice spoke to my ear, "Jesse. She still loves you."

     "Talon? What the hell are you doing to her?"

     Another scream comes through it tears at my mind. I get up feeling th crisp air that was trapped in the room against my skin. I been running from Talon my entire life and now he had found a way to get to me."She is in so much pain, Jesse."

    "What do you want?"

     "You know what I want. Do you still have it?" Jesse was suddenly in a poker game. His shoes were beside the bed and the 45 was under the pillow. Talon could have always caught up to me he isn't stupid, but finding Julie was not what I expected. I didn't think anyone would ever find her.

     "Where do you want to make the trade?"

     Talon wasn't responding. He was waiting, letting the echoes of wherever he had her held up wrestle with my ears, "You know the docks. The gangster's warehouse? Bring it with you. You've got an hour. I know you are close."

     "What if I don't have it?"

    "Aww don't disappoint Julie and me." was a vile response.

    You can't give such things to someone like Talon. The world doesn't allow it. It creates and imbalance. Everything is given to evil. Evil always has all the cards. I know I have to go. Can I keep him on the phone longer? Creating a signal for a trace? No. Talon is smarter than that. He has everything except what he needs to change the world. To change this crazy overpowered world. The microchip is inside the silver case by the door. His heart beats fast as he picks it up. Is it because of the chip? or Julie?

    "I am on my way." The light on the cell phone's display goes off. I stand in the darkness for another second, basking in it's chill. The song is now stuck in my head. Lost in love and you don't know much.

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RE: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby Cana » Sat Aug 28, 2010 7:23 am

I don't remember if it was the thunder or the phone that ultimately woke me up from my nightmare. I gasped as it wretched me from sleep. "What the heck?!" I demanded to no one. I grabbed me phone and noticed an unfamiliar number. Normally, I would have been rather leery about answering strange, post-midnight calls, but right then, I just didn't want to be alone. Not after that nightmare.
"Hello?" I asked.
"H... hi," a trembling female voice said, "I need to talk to Lelani. Something horrible is happening."
"This is Lela, but I don't think I can help you," I said, rubbing my eyes, "I hope you're in another country or something, because it is three am over here."
"Actually, I'm about five minutes away," the girl said, "I just had a horrible nightmare, and we need to talk. She's coming for us."
"Excuse me?"
"It's..." she sounded like she was trying to keep herself from sobbing, "Lela, it's Soronya. She's coming."
I woke up instantly. "Who is this?!" I demanded.
"It's Mary!" she snapped, "She already got Yvette. We're next. And today is the tenth Imbolc from when we first summoned her."
"Mary?" I repeated, "Look, honey. If you're anything like I remember, you're probably high on something right now. If you're just looking to mooch some money from me after ten years, then I don't want to see you right now."
"As if I WANT you to see me!" Mary yelled, "I'm a damn mess! But no one will understand. No one can protect me but you." She stopped talking. Suddenly, all I could hear on the other line was rain pounding on her windows.
"Hey, Mary?" I asked.
I heard a scuffle, like the phone had dropped. I climbed out of bed and walked to the window. She said she had been nearby. I peeked out through the curtain.
A car was parked about a block from my apartment. I squinted through the rain, trying to make out the two figures illuminated in the headlights. One looked like a very skinny girl who seemed to be floating in midair. The other was a tall, strong figured woman with long, thick hair. Instantly, I started shaking.
"Mary?" I called again, hoping to hear her voice.
Then I heard her scream, and the silhouette of the skinny girl disintegrated. I dropped my phone and backed away from the window. The nightmare that woke up rushed at me again. The three of us were thirteen, gathered in a circle around a crudely drawn symbol of the demon Soronya, the demon of beauty. We were stupid. We didn't want to study the art of wicca. We wanted to just skip to summoning. We were dumb kids who were sick of being teased for being ugly, and we turned to the darkness for a solution.
We cast the spell, and nothing happened; nothing immediate, in any case. However, one by one, we started to change. Yvette got discovered by a modeling agency. Mary tried out for cheer-leading and eventually became the team captain and homecoming queen. I myself had found more people willing to listen to me sing as I parked me and my guitar on the street.
"I want my payment, child."
I spun around and nearly died. I backed away from the tall woman now standing in the middle of my bedroom. She strode to me, her flowing black hair moving with an intangible wind. I flattened by back against the wall.
Soronya extended her hand to me and stared at me with cruel, amused eyes. "My payment," she said, "The souls I was promised in exchange for what I've given you."
I tried to find my voice, but no sounds came out.
"I gave you the power to break hearts with your beauty," Soronya continued, "All I demanded in return was in ten years time, you were to give me five souls of whose hearts you've broken." She smiled and began to reach for my neck. "And if you could not deliver, I then take yours," she said.
"My CD's!" I finally cried.
She paused.
I pointed at my CD's on the wall. "I never forgot you," I said, "Every concert I have, I break hundreds of people's hearts. Take which ever five souls you want. I've paid my debt ten fold in the past ten years. It's not my fault the other two had no foresight."
Soronya's black eyes studied me. Finally, she nodded and when I blinked, she disappeared.
Well done, I heard her voice in my head, I have found another use for you, Miss Lelani. We shall be the ultimate heartbreakers.
When morning came, I finally rose from my corner and stumbled to the bathroom. I ran to the sink and splashed water on my face. Did any of that just happen? I wondered, What did she mean by 'we?'
Then, I noticed my reflection. I gasped and backed away from the mirror. Every blemish was gone from my face. Without even combing it, my hair was perfect. And my eyes were a shade of black.

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Re: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby Isob » Mon Aug 30, 2010 6:38 am


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RE: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby monique_892 » Mon Aug 30, 2010 8:09 am

Is it time to wake up already? I peer over the edge of the pillow to the clock. Two thiry-three.

Who in the world is calling? Eh, they’ll call back if it’s important. I plop my head down on the pillow.

Ring. Damn it! Must be important as I roll myself out of bed onto the floor. The phone is in the living room… somewhere. Following the sound of damn ringing that won’t cease, my eyes are still closed and I’m slowly regaining consciousness.

Alicia Sparks. This must be some kind of mistake. I haven’t spoken to her since she was my student. It’s been, what, ten years. TEN YEARS! Geez, thanks for the flashback Alicia, as I accept the call.


“Ms. Watts?”

“Yeah. Alicia is that you?”

“Uh, yeah. How have you been?”

How have I been? “Um, mostly good until a jarring phone call in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, geez, are you back in Miami?”

“I sure am. I take it you’re somewhere else?”

“Uh, yeah. I moved out West after college.”

“Hey, Alicia, I’d love to catch up with you but now’s not the greatest time. I’ve got classes in the morning and—”

“Right, yeah, no I completely understand. Um, I’m really sorry to bother you at this time but I’m in a bit of a jam and need some help.”

“I don’t know how much I can help you right now but I’ll definitely give you a call in the morning.”

“Um, Ms. Watts. I think, I want, your help. Before the morning.”

“What do you mean?” My house is silent: Anthony, my husband, is sleeping. We have no kids, no animals, no noise. In fact, the whole neighborhood is eerily quiet. “What’s going on, Alicia?”

More quiet.

“I didn’t know who else to call” she whispers across the line. Silence. Sobbing.

Sobbing? uh, yeah, that’s definitely sobbing.

“Alicia? Honey? What’s going on?” I decide that sleep is over. I’m not too sure why it’s me she’s called, I’m not convinced that I even care but she chose me. Out of all the people in her contacts list she chose me and for that, I know there’s a reason.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake, she manages to get through the sobs and heaves of crying. I. I. Do you remember what you did?”

“What do you mean?” My hands are cold. I can feel my blood turning to ice as it pumps through my arteries; first, chilling my body then my limbs, inch by inch.

“You know, with Pedro.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, yes, of course, I remember.” Pedro. The student with whom I had an affair ten years ago. How could I forget that? Not a day goes by where I don’t replay the events of that school year. How wonderful the short-lived relationship was and how long the aftermath of it: losing my job, my house, my car. Fortunately not my marriage but everything else was pretty messed up for a while there.

“Why are you bringing this up, Alicia?” as I sag into the futon that was brand-new a decade ago.

““I think I might be headed down that path.” Sigh. “Wait, lemme back up.” Sigh. “I’m a teacher now. I’ve been at the same school here in California for two years. And it’s happened. I’m involved with a student. We haven’t actually done anything but I know where it’s going and I don’t know what to do about it. I didn’t know who else to call. I’m sorry.” She’s burst into tears.

Memories flood my brain. The feeling of lost love when I was told I shouldn’t talk to him. The feeling of being left alone because no one I worked with wanted to be associated with me, the pedophile. The desolation of having nothing to do, because of the impending felony I couldn’t get a job. The feelings of desperation because all I wanted to do was go to work and come home like a normal adult and I was being denied.

I still hate that year of my life more than any other. I wouldn’t want that pain and isolation for anyone.

“Anything you need. I’m here for you, Alicia.”

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Re: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby Thirza » Tue Aug 31, 2010 3:06 pm

“Janet?” A masculine voice asks anxiously at the other end of the line.
“Yes. Dr. Janet Reed speaking.” I answer, drinking my cup of coffee and setting the thermos aside in the bed of the pickup truck.
It’s 3:30 a.m. I’m at the countryside, exactly in the middle of nowhere, enjoying my vacation from the Univesity and avoiding the city lights to set up my telescope. Whoever it was, it was very lucky to get ahold of me.
“It’s John. Listen, I -”
“John who?”
“Who are you? I’m not recognizing your voice.”
“Oh. Okay. It has been many years. I’m John Lindberg. We’ve studied Physics at MIT together in the 1980’s.”
“Alright. You are that John. Now I remember you. How have you -”
“Listen, Janet. I don’t have time for pleasantries now. I have a imminent crisis at my hands. And I need your help.”
“Okay. What’s your problem?”
“My problem? Well, I have tons of problems right now! The question is this can be a worldwide one. Which makes it your problem too.” He says with desperation, almost screaming on the phone.
“I’ve especialized in particle physics, you know. At the moment, I’m one of the chief researchers at CERN, working at the LHC. What I’ll tell you is classified information. In fact, I shouldn’t be talking about it in a mobile line.”
“Stop blabbering! It wasn’t urgent?” I reply.
“Yes, it is. I'm getting to the point. Two weeks ago, we’ve started a new experiment. We were trying to create dark matter and study it closely.”
“And were you successful?”
“Yes, we were. In fact, we were too successful.” He says, sadly.
“Now, cut the crap, John. Just tell me what the hell is happening, for Christ’s sake! You’re making me nervous!”
“We created the dark matter, alright. Problem is, it’s spreading through the tunnels of LHC and we have, at present, no way to contain it.” He paused.
“At the rate we’re measuring now, it will expand constantly. If it’s not contained, and fast, it will alter gravity in Earth and gravitational balance in the Solar System.”
“Oh, God!”
“Well, darling. We have three days to save the world.”

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Re: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby trinket 232 » Tue Aug 31, 2010 5:37 pm

(i'm going to try writing this one more as a script)
Jesse: hello?
Mary-ann: jesse?
Jesse: speaking, uhh who are you?
Mary-ann: hey, it's mary-ann from high school
Jesse: oh hey how's it going
Mary-ann: so-so. anyway ummm, i was wondering if you could watch my daughter. I have to fly up to europe, for my grandfather's funeral
Jesse: oh, i'm sorry for your loss
Mary-ann: thanks. So can you watch her, i know it's been five years but...
Jesse: uhh sure i guess i'll watch her.
Mary-ann: ok and one last thing, you're her father

(i know most of it is really boring and not exciting at all but i liked the plot idea near the end and i'm too tired to actually write it out)

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RE: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby OnyxLiar » Wed Sep 01, 2010 1:12 pm

(745 words)

The shrill ring of the phone jolted her awake. Feeling blindly around on the inn table, she picked up her cell phone and stared with blurry eyes down at the unknown number. Hitting the end call, she sent whoever it was straight to voicemail. Pulling the pillow over her face, Mary groaned. Well… now she was awake.

Groggily, the woman shoved the blanket aside and sat up. The highway buzzed quietly from the other side of the hotel door and through the crack in the thick curtains, she saw it was still night. As she was reached for the small light on the inn table, her phone started ringing again. Snatching the phone up, she glared down at the number. It was the same unknown number. With a sigh, she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice rumbled out, scratchy from disuse.

“Is this Mary? Mary Holmberg?” The voice on the other end did not sound familiar at all, but apparently, they knew her. Turning the light on with a click, Mary glanced at her alarm clock.

“Yea, I’m her. Who is this? You do realize its 2 AM?”

“Yes, I do… I’m sorry, but this is urgent.” The women on the other end sounded panicked and the tone sent Mary’s stomach into flip-flops.

“Ok… alright… but who IS this?” The other end was silent for a moment and she swore she heard distant yelling, and then the woman on the other end reply.

“I’m Julie Macintyre. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but we went to high school together…” A sinking feeling grabbed Mary’s stomach. Julie Macintyre, oh what a name she hadn’t heard in a long time, over 14 years in fact. Oh what a name she wished she didn’t have to hear again. Mary pictured the 14-year-old Julie in her mind… pitch black hair and a shiny ring through her nose. Back then, Julie was definitely not someone she would’ve admitted to having ties with, but now… it wasn’t like she was any better than her or anyone, really.

“I remember you. Of course I do.” From the other side came a sigh of relief. “What do you want?”

“Well… it’s just… I’ve gotten myself into trouble and I really need your help…” Julie sounded timid, for once and Mary knew the woman was worried, especially if her “troubles” were what she thought they were. Mary knew she had to help. There was no way around it. Whatever it was, it was probably her fault anyway.

“Ok. Where are you?”

“Really? Just like that?” Julie questioned, surprise very evident. Mary sighed and dug her small notepad out of her purse. She searched for a pen.

“Yes, just like that. I repeat: where are you?” Julie told her and she scrawled the address down.

“Alright. Be ready. I’ll be there in a minute,” she murmured and with that, ended the call. Mary stared down at the address, surprised at how close Julie was to her. It was about an hour away, but still… she was three states away from where the two of them went to high school.

Dropping the pen in her bag, Mary dug out her pack of cigarettes and shook one out. Letting it rest between her lips, she pulled on some pants, socks and boots. She threw what little amount of items she had strewn across the room into her purse, slathered on some deodorant and left the motel room in darkness.

Once out in the crisp night air, Mary lit up her cigarette. Shoving the crinkled address in her pocket, she took the stairs down quickly and headed to her beat-up car. Reaching through the cracked window to open the door, she slid into the torn leather interior and leaned back into the seat. Taking the last few drags off her cigarette, she flicked it out of the window and dug her keys from her purse. The engine roared to life, easily.

As she drove, Mary wondered… she hoped the trouble Julie was in wasn’t what she thought. She was hoping that part of her past was permanently sealed, but really… look how she lived. There was no way to deny what happened. It affected her daily. Whipping the car onto the highway, she cut two people off without really thinking.

Gnawing her lip, Mary shook her head. She had been denying it so long and maybe that was the problem with her life. Maybe, this was just what she needed.

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RE: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby JenniferAprilDC » Wed Sep 01, 2010 2:00 pm

“Hi-i-i Shar-ron?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Carly. You were Maid of Honor at my wedding, remember?”

“Car-ly? Ye-e-s-s . . . . yes, I remember. What time is it?" Glancing at the clock she murmured, "Geez Carly, it's three in the morning; why are you calling me at this hour?”

“I’m living down south now; my daughter called me about an hour ago from the city. She was so totally hysterical I could barely understand her.”

“Okkaaay . . . . What does that have to do with me?”

“Well, she agreed to be a surrogate mom; she’s real close to delivery and changed her mind. The couple threatened to track her down and literally extricate the baby from her belly.”

While Sharon listened to Carly's story she remembered why she’d lost touch, purposefully. Carly the run-away, a dancer in a strip joint in the city at age 16, ended up strung out on drugs. When Carly called to say she was getting married, Sharon thought she was finally getting her life together; she helped organize the wedding, stayed in touch. Carly became pregnant; things were really looking up for her. When Carly visited her folks, Sharon saw the bruises on her legs. "Carly, what happened?" "Oh Eric and I were sitting side-by-side on the bed one night; he was real mad, slammed his fist down on my leg. Said he was sorry, didn't realize it was my leg he'd hit." "Jesus Carly, the man is 6'4", you're 4'11"; he could’ve killed you." "I can take care of myself." "Oh yeah, fearless little Carly; those bruises are clear evidence of that, and what about your baby?" "He didn't mean it." "They never do."

Next she knew Carly was in the throes of a heated child custody battle, fighting tooth and nail to retain custody of her daughter. In the end she walked away. Next encounter? Carly had married a biker dude the day after Sharon’d married her husband. Sharon distanced herself further from Carly.

While online one day, Sharon noticed Carly's brother had joined ClassMates; curious, she contacted him. He said his Mom passed away; he’d hoped his sister would’ve beaten the drug addiction beforehand. Wasn't long before Carly found Sharon again; she left her number, addy, invited her for a weekend in the Carolinas. 'Fat chance.' was Sharon's comment to no one in particular.

“So why are you calling me? Jesus Carly, call the Police!”

“I can’t. There are extenuating circumstances.” (Always something where Carly was concerned.) “You’ve got to help her Sharon.”

Carly, what do you expect me to do?”

“Can’t you go get her and bring her to your place?”

“Carly, # 1, I haven’t seen her since she was a baby; I don’t even know what she looks like.”

“I’ll send you a picture.”

Sharon snapped back, “Carly that’s not the point and you know it. Doesn’t she have family you can call; doesn’t her Dad still live in the area?”

“He’s out of the country.”

“Then call the Police! God Carly, after 30 years of not hearing from you, you drop this, this bomb in my lap at three in the morning! I really feel for you, as a mother, I’d be petrified too, but I really don’t know how I can help. I’m really sorry.”

“Please don’t hang up; I promised I’d find someone to help her. After trying everyone we now know I remembered you Sharon; you were always there when I needed you, even in the middle of the night.”

“Carly? I can’t help your daughter. Call the Police!”

“Well, there’s the catch, Sharon, the to-be daddy is an EMT worker and his wife is a Police Officer; the minute the alert goes out over the airwaves, they’ll be first on the scene; they’re already in the vicinity, searching for her.”

“God Carly, I truly wish I could help you, but I can’t. You need to stay off your phone; what if she’s trying to reach you right now? I’m too far from the city to be of assistance to her. Do me a favor though Carly, let me know how this turns out; I’m certain she’ll be fine.”

“SHARON, SHARON . . . . Don't . . . .”

Two days later Sharon opened her homepage and gasped at the headline:

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Re: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby JenniferAprilDC » Wed Sep 01, 2010 2:40 pm

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RE: Late Night Phone Call - 8/24

Postby Chagstrom » Thu Sep 02, 2010 9:09 pm

Returning to third shift was not what Mike wanted, but it was the only shift available to him. He had been on first shift for the three months before today, and was more tired than he'd been in a while. At least the streets were quiet and coffee at the convenience store was free.

Mike was patrolling the west side of the city, trying to be visible in the "Less than desirable" parts of town. That's what the Chief called them, at least. Mike and the other cops referred to them in much less G-rated terms.

The radio in his cruiser startled him "852 units, respond to the area of Angela St. for a Code 4, possible head-on...attempting to get further, will advise". Mike replied to the dispatcher's call with a simple "266 copy, in route". He sighed and threw his recently lit cigarette out the window while turning his cruiser around.

As Mike drove his cruiser towards Angela St., the dispatcher came over the radio again, only this time on the fire frequency. Hearing the radio hundreds, if not thousands, of times before, Mike knew what he had to pay attention to. "Fire chatter" as cops call it, is usually not one of those things. He did, however, catch the time the dispatcher gave as 0416hrs. "4:16 a.m.?" Mike questioned to himself out loud, and looked at the clock in the dash of the cruiser to reaffirm what he had heard. His watch and cellphone agreed with the clock.

Mike was then reminded of several phone calls that he had received this past week. The calls, Mike had noticed, had come in in 10 minute increments. The first call he had received was at 3:56 a.m., followed by 4:06 a.m. and 4:16 a.m. The caller i.d. showed "Unavailable" and no one would answer him on the other line. At the time, Mike had thought the calls were simply a small annoyance, as he was able to fall back asleep after the other caller had hung up.

The coincidence, and that's all it was, that the time was 4:16 a.m. was moved to the back of Mike's head as he mentally prepared for him arriving at the scene of the accident. There is a lot to do at an accident scene: obtain witness statements, sketch diagrams, get vehicle measurements, and Mike hated doing them all.

Mike arrived on Angela St. and saw that he was the first responder on scene. "Huh", he said out loud, as there were three other guys working with him tonight, not to mention the fire and E.M.S. personnel.

Angela St. is a narrow, two-lane road, approximately 25 foot across. It runs north and south and is three quarters of a mile long. Mike, as well as everyone else in the department knew this, as there are constantly accidents on Angela St. Mike covered the three quarters of mile north and south, as well as the 25 feet across, however he did not see any signs of an accident.

With the radio in his hand, Mike was about to clear from the scene when his phone rang. The time was 4:26 a.m. and the caller i.d. showed unavailable. Mike placed the radio back in it's holder and flipped open his phone, placing it against his ear.

Silence. Mike was about to place the phone down when he heard a female voice "You have two new messages." "Voice mail?" Mike said to himself, knowing that he hadn't missed any calls recently. "...listen to your new messages, press 1". Mike pressed one and heard a female's voice. The female was his mother.

"Mikey", his mother said, sounding upset "We haven't heard from you in two weeks and your Sergeant has been calling us. We don't know what to tell him, and we're concerned. Call us back so we can stop worrying. Love you."

Confused, Mike deleted the message from his mother and listened to the next message.

"Next message" the phone operator's voice said, "received today at 4:26 a.m." A male's voice this time. A voice that Mike hadn't heard from in a while. A voice that he thought he would never hear from again. Mike's body shook with terror.

"Hello, Michael". The voice was smooth and monotone, unnatural. It had an accent that Mike thought sounded European, though he couldn't place it. He never knew the man's real name, and that was fine with Mike. He briefly recalled meeting the man for the first, and only, time four years ago. The man wore a white sleeveless shirt, blue striped-tie and green khaki pants, which Mike found funny. He always had pictured the Devil wearing a suit, or at least a red jacket.

Mike, crying and unable to speak, listened to the man talk. He knew that he had to obey the man's desires, just as he had been doing for the past two weeks, since the man took him. Mike's memories were rushing back to him. He understood now the significance of Angela St. as well as the times the phone calls had come in. Mike could only nod his head in agreement with the man over the phone. After listening to the man for another minute, Mike put his phone away.

Mike then realized that he was no longer a police officer and was not in a cruiser in the middle of the street. He looked down and saw his wife Angela asleep in her bed. Mike's sorrow and anguish rushed back and he remembered the deal he had made with the man. The deal he had made with the Devil.

Reaching towards his wife, Mike saw the door to his bedroom open. He then saw a man wearing a blue striped tie walk in the room.


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