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PROLOUGE
Gleam of light.
The last image that Nielsen saw in his dream before he finally returned into his conscious mind. He opened his eyes and turned his gaze around the small bar where he let himself to get boozed. The time on the clock tells him that he needs to go back home. 11 PM is not a good time for a 21 years old college student like Nielsen Perez to be staying outdoors. However, he wonders if it was really safe to go home by driving his blue-coated Honda while he is obviously drunk. He rummaged into his pocket to get a lizard-shaped key chain with his car’s keys as he motioned outside the bar.
11:25 PM. After a sudden glimpse on the digital clock just below the car’s rearview mirror, Nielsen returned his eyes on the forlorn road. No signs of other vehicles are to be seen, but to be cautious, he maintained his speed to 40 miles an hour to avoid hurtling to anything that might unexpectedly stymied in his way. He checked the fuel gauze and found out that the gasoline wasn’t enough to get him home. Luckily, a gasoline station was 5 miles away from his direction.
After the gas refill, he entered the small grocery store in the station to buy canned coffee and some energy drink to keep him awake and to alleviate his hang-over. While inside, a man wearing dark blue sweater with a shingle style haircut approached him to start a conversation. He said his name was Marcus Harvey Cruz: Marcus meaning the god of war and Harvey, an army battle. Both men returned to their vehicles after a short chitchat and continued their ride. Mr. Marcus’ red FX closely followed Nielsen’s blue Honda.
At 12:15 AM, a squall begun. The heavy rain glazed Nielsen’s car so he activated the windshield wipers. Something wobbled in Nielsen’s pocket, his cellular phone! He rummage in his pocket to get it and checked who the caller was.
1 Miss Call.
The screen of the phone said, he has a feeling who the caller was so he decided to return the phone back into his pocket but even before he had the chance to do it, thunder roared wildly. Being a squeamish person as he was, he dropped the phone. He bended sideward without removing his glances on the pavements ahead while he is desperately reaching for the phone. Feeling that he can’t get his phone by this tactic, he finally removed his glances on the road and motioned his eyes at the inner bottom side of the car. And there it is, 5 inches away from the foot break. With his gaze fixed in the cellular phone, he picked it up, straighten his body and put the phone back into his pocket. However, a sudden flicker of movement from the corner of his eye astounded him.
Bang.
He stepped at the break immediately as he realized that his car had rammed at something.
“Oh shit!” Nielsen exclaimed as he immediately went out of the car. Mr. Marcus stopped the FX and went out as well. A sudden rush of paranoia and fear circulate in the entire body of the 21-year old young adult. He could even feel the furious pounding of pulse in his carotid artery. The lesser tensed adult run towards a female, maybe in her 16’s or 17’s, who was lying on the pavement, few inches away from the blue Honda.
“Sandra… Sandra!!!” She screamed as her eyes goggled. She took a deep breath and then looses consciousness.
The squall ended; however, Nielsen didn’t seem to notice it. “Oh shit… Shit! Is she dead?” he asked nervously as he kept twitching his right hand while his left grappled his hair.
Mr. Marcus assessed the victim and said. “She only fainted. Don’t worry, the pulse is still strong and there is good ventilation in her lungs. However…” he pointed at the fetter ensnaring the teenager’s feet. “I think she escaped from a human menagerie or elsewhere.”
Nielsen crouched near Mr. Marcus and the anonymous teenager. “Sandra. She is calling for someone named Sandra. It is possible that this is also a prisoner like her.”
The two looked at each other which were like a code which tells them to go back to their own vehicle in order for them to search for the human menagerie of some psychopath. Mr. Marcus carried the teenage girl in his FX.
The Honda and FX were parked several blocks away form a peculiar looking house which is approximately 36 square meters in size. They slinked towards the house as they hide themselves behind trees to keep themselves hidden. They watched a muscular man about 5’11” in height, wearing brown leather jacket and a black cap as he ride in a gray VX100 Toyota. He started the engine and the vehicle moves south.
“Mr. Marcus, follow the Toyota just incase that Sandra is there. I’ll go check the house for any signs of her.”
Mr. Marcus nodded and run towards his red FX and followed the gray Toyota. Nielsen cautiously walked towards the house, broke the window and audaciously reached for the inner knob to open the door. He spurned the door and decried for the light switch. As he found it, he clicked it open and begun his search for the girl Sandra. But there was no one there, not even a trace. He entered inside a bedroom and saw a picture of the girl she rammed together with the muscular man in the brown leather jacket. Beside the picture was a folder which has the name Elisa Reyes written on its upper center. After several minutes of reading and scanning the documents, he dropped it and run outside.
Nielsen drove as fast as he can to look for Mr. Marcus and the owner of the gray Toyota but he was too late. The man with the blue sweater was standing by a cliff with his gaze fixed on the gray Toyota being rolled down in the cliff by gravity. He immediately stopped his blue Honda, went outside and approached Mr. Marcus.
“Oh… Oh shit no! We must save him! He is… He is the girl’s father! Elisa’s father! The girl that I had rammed earlier, she has schizophrenia and Sandra was an imaginary friend, a creation of her hallucination! Oh God, we must save that man. He only lock-up Elisa because he refuse to bring the girl in a mental institution. He is just a confused father, not a psychopath. ”
Mr. Marcus did not create any sound. Nielsen was puzzled so he slowly turned his head towards him. Nielsen’s hair rose at end while he shuddered upon seeing the ruthless expression in Mr. Marcus’ face. It is as if a devil is smiling in front of him. “Maybe he is not a psychopath… but I am!” He had smitten Nielsen with a long metal tube which the 21-year old college student didn’t notice earlier. Nielsen saw thread of light, then total darkness. It was as if he is now pulled into a world of oblivion and perdition.
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Chapter 1:
A Feeling of Hope
....SOON....
