The only world to describe the phenomena was that is was not dissimilar to feeling smothered; there was no other applicable word for it. The world had been saturated by night; every line of sight drew darkness. He could not bring himself to open his eyes. They felt heavy, as if laden with some invisible weight. The normal workings of his mind, once so crisp and concise, now were covered in fog. He could feel pain is his abdomen.

'If nothing, I can be certain I am alive. It would be too terrible irony for such pain to endure in death.'

His ears picked up on a noise. It was someone breathing. But it was not normal. Instead of slow and steady rhythms, the breathing was forceful, like the breaths were trying to hold back something else.

Charlie opened his eyes with great effort. How nice it would be to remain in such a state of sleep, but that extent of laziness was even too much for him. Bright lights stabbed at his blurry vision, making his tired eyes shut hard. After a few more attempts, his eyes had adjusted well enough for him to see clearly.

He was in an ordinary hospital room. Several tubes were sticking out of his arms. No doubt one was an IV tube and he likened the second to be antibiotic medicine. 'Well, I suppose that after getting stabbed in the stomach, this is the most optimistic situation.'

The harsh breathing was now accompanied by sobbing, which came from the foot of his bed. A mane of ragged dark hair surrounded the head that was resting on his bed, shielding his view and their view as well. He knew it could be none other than Annabelle, considering his sister was still in no state to be traveling anywhere for long periods of time.

His mind flickered to his sister and he balled his fists in controlled anger. Charlie remembered why he was here. That boy, Alex, had stabbed him. He remembered seeing the boy, following him to where Annabelle had been cornered. He had saved her life. And she had pleaded for Charlie not to pull the trigger.

Charlie thought of how much he wanted to do it, to end that wretched boy and his abomination of a life. But she had won him over, and he was not a murderer. At least, he didn't believe so.

'I still killed him after all, but it was self defense. I…killed…him.' The words felt bitter in his mind, and that feeling moved to his mouth. He had wanted to kill him, but when he found himself holding the gun, he knew that he could not fire a shot to kill. He could incapacitate him, but Charlie knew that Alex would have been arrested instead of carted off in a body bag.

The shot had gone clear through the bastard's head, killing him instantly. His father had once taught him how to protect himself and his family, in case the risky job of being a police officer claimed the patriarch. The bullet had entered right above the bridge of his nose, and would have destroyed that boy's mind.

Charlie did not feel the satisfaction of avenging his sister and those other girls, or for defending Annabelle, a girl he hardly knew. He felt sick at the thought of killing a man. He began to tremble, and then shake.

Annabelle felt the bed quivering a little, so she took her face away from the wet spot on the bed that her tears were creating. 'God, I must look terrible,' she thought. She looked up to see Charlie awake. But he was pale and shaking. His eyes began to roll in the back of his head as the shaking became more violent.

"CHARLIE! Christ, he's having a seizure!" Annabelle ran to the remote for his bed, pressing the emergency call button repeatedly. "SOMEONE HELP," she screamed, "HE'S GOING TO DIE."

In no more than 15 seconds, an entourage of nurses and doctors came in with various carts of equipment.

"He's going into shock. We need to stabilize him. Nurse, get the girl out of the room please.," a doctor said, looking at the boy seriously.

"I'm not going anywhere," Annabelle shouted, removing her arm from the grip of a nurse.

Nurses were turning Charlie on his side, and she watched as he emptied what meager contents were in his stomach. Two burses were preparing a syringe.

"Young lady, if this boy means anything to you, let us do our job without interference. You may stand outside, but the longer you remain in this room, the more likely it is that the boy will die."

A male nurse led her outside, where she sat on the floor and began to cry. The door shut behind her. The nurse looked at her with sympathy.

"I feel for you, miss, but Dr. Fryhe is correct, it would be too much of a distraction. Is there anything I can get you? Maybe a drink or something to eat?"

Through red, puffy eyes she looked up at the nurse. He looked to be in his mid-20s, with jet black hair that was held back with hair gel. He looked honest.

"I'm ok, my parents will probably be here to check up on me."

The man smiled. "I take it the police must have given you a run through. Considering how close we are to Chicago, we all get similar questions. I hope they weren't too harsh.

"It was kind of painful, having to relive something that just happened a few hours ago. I'm sure they'll ask Charlie a bunch of things too." She smiled hopefully.

His smile widened. "It's good that you are in such high spirits, most girls who come here for rape kits aren't as talkative."

Annabelle frowned a little, but shook it away. "It's not fun, but so long as there is complete evidence that Charlie saved me and acted in self-defense, I'm willing to bear with it."

"Forgive me for asking, but are you two a couple. You do seem awfully close."

She blushed and looked to the ground. "No, I actually just met him yesterday, about 30 minutes before I was attacked. He was a stranger who I accused of being the rapist, and yet he still saved me."

"That's Charlie for you," he said, chuckling.

Annabelle looked at him in surprise. "Do you know him?"

"I should hope so, I'm his cousin," he said, chuckling. Annabelle felt happy. This man just radiated warmth. He'd be a great doctor one day.

"Don't tell him I told you this, but he's the black sheep of the family. All of us in the Brooks family, well we're rich. We're all either in business or medicine, except for him and my uncle. He's a sergeant, and pulls in great money for working for the Chicago Police Department. He'll probably rise the rest of the ranks soon enough, I know he's becoming the chief of their station next month."

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Well, I'm the chief resident here, though I get confused for a nurse all the time."

She felt her cheeks rise in embarrassment. "Yeah, I thought you were a nurse. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. But as I said, I'm a doctor. My dad is a plastic surgeon, and my mom is a dentist. His mom is the senior consultant at a risk management firm. So, we're all really smart and determined, and becoming great at what we do."

"That's nice, but what's this got to do with Charlie?"

He smiled. "Charlie has been kicked out of every school he's ever attended, except for two. And both of those were because he graduated before he could get kicked out. Even as a kid, he would lie around and do nothing but read. Now he does nothing but research on his computer and in libraries."

"So he's smart, but he doesn't try," asked Annabelle. It seemed odd, but fitting, that this boy would be intelligent. He was just surprising like that.

"There's the understatement of the year. The kid is a freaking genius. If he would apply even a bit of his intelligence, he'd be amazing and top the entire family. But so far all he applies himself in are puzzles. He likes solving things that interest him. It's why he probably wanted to find that boy, Alan.

"Alex," she corrected him.

"Ah, my apologies. Anyway, even if Kelsey hadn't been attacked, he would have found him. That's just what he does."

The door that Annabelle had been leaning against pulled open, making her fall backwards with a squeak of surprise from her. She looked up to see the doctor smiling. "He's been stabilized. He's just in shock of the recent events. I'd recommend that for his mental health, you, as the only other living participant, accompany him as much as possible."

"Of course, he saved my life, it's the least I can do."

The doctor turned to Charlie's cousin. "Hey, Martin, this goes against all protocol but I want you to be the lead doctor. He is your patient, and while not your top priority, I would hope he is high on the list."

Martin beamed at the doctor. "Thank you sir, I'll make sure he's alright."

Annabelle stood up, realizing she was still on the floor. "So what should I do?"

"Just be comforting to him and try to relax him. He need to deal with almost being killed and killing a fellow human."

"I don't know if you could call Alex human, sir." Behind her, Martin nodded.

Annabelle walked into the room and sat down next to the very much awake Charlie. "You know, you should have let me die. Then I could be some great tragic hero." She looked at him in shock, only to see him smiling.

"You're hilarious. At least everyone is alright," she said, soothingly.

"Thank you," she heard him say gravely.

"Why are you thanking me, last time I checked you saved my life. I should be thanking you."

He looked at her seriously. "I almost murdered a man. He was deserving of death, but I should not have been the one to bring it to him."

She took his hand in hers. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "None of that depressing talk. You wanted to get revenge for all the hurt people, including your family. It's perfectly understandable."

"But I almost became a murderer."

She put her hand on his chest, over his heart. "You have a heartbeat. You aren't a monster like that. Even without me saying anything, you would have chosen the right path."

He smiled at her. "We should some children together, if for no reason than this is one great story to tell."

She looked towards the ground, obviously embarrassed. She heard him laughing. "Hey now, who says something like that. Besides, you got a nice wound to the abs, you wouldn't be able to go at me hard. And where's the fun in that."

Charlie looked at her face to see her looking completely serious. Then it cracked and she broke into laughter, which he joined in as loudly as he could without hurting his wound."

Annabelle heard her phone ring. It was her parents. "Hi mom. No, I'm fine. No I'm not injured, aside from a good bump on the head. No. No. Mom, I am not pregnant. Can we get some food? Ok, meet you there."

"Hey, I need to get some food, and it looks like the police want to ask some questions. Just be honest, I was."

"Very well, I will wait for you to return."

Annabelle walked out, and police walked in with clipboards for notes. Half an hour she made her way back to the room, which was now vacant. Charlie, however, was fast asleep. He looked to peaceful for her to wake him.

She moved into the other bed in the two patient room and quickly fell asleep.

Charlie and Annabelle woke up to some loud voices outside, and one sounded worried and angry.

"First this happens to my boy, now even more shit piles up. What's the end to it all?" The voice, obviously Sgt. Brooks, was gruff and fierce.

"Dad," Charlie called out, "what is the situation."

The door opened to reveal a man with a graying crew cut and a gray moustache. He was flanked by two other officers, and Martin. Outside, he could see a detective on his cell phone, talking frantically.

"There's been a situation at your school," he said, looking ever so slightly worried.

"What happened," they both said simultaneously.

"A girl was found murdered. There's no sign of rape, as she was a virgin," said Sgt. Brooks. The two officers wore solemn looks.

"Is the school going to close," Annabelle asked.

"Not yet,"" the officer on the left said. He had short and very curly brown hair. "The old men there will decide on the fate of the school in a week. For some reason, a murder couldn't pry those rich corpses from their rounds of golf and yacht clubs."

Annabelle felt betrayed by the governors. "What are they thinking?"

Sgt. Brooks laughed harshly. It sounded like gravel crunching. "Surely you must know? That boy Alex. His grandfather is a governor of the school. Be prepared to be picked apart by the old men, they don't want to tarnish their reputation."

"Those fuckers," said a voice to the left of Annabelle. It had been Charlie. But it was different. Charlie never talked like that.

"You both are going to be picked apart by that family's lawyers. Not to mention the governors will give them all the information they can. A stain on the family of one of them is a stain on all of them." The officer finished. "I'm DiMeo, I'll give you my card. I'm dealing with the basics of the case, while the detectives get evidence and everything else."

"Alright, thank you," Charlie said. Annabelle was at a loss for words.

Sgt. Brooks walked over to Charlie's side. "Son, we haven't always gotten along, but I love you and you are my pride, just like everyone else in the family." With that, he pulled a pistol from the back of his belt and placed it on the table next to Charlie. He and the troupe filed out.

Annabelle found her voice, but what she didn't see was the look of meaning on Charlie's face. If she had seen it, she would have realized that he knew what she was going to ask and knew the answer.

"Just what is going on? Tell me," she yelled.

Sgt, Brooks turned and looked at her. "The murder, it wasn't typical for these attacks. It was quick, with no abuse."

"Is it a copycat then?"

"Annabelle," Charlie said, "you don't realize what this means. It means that it isn't over."

"How isn't it over, Alex is dead. And the DNA samples that the police ran took priority over all. They said that Alex is the one."

"Miss, they only found DNA on a few of the victims. And as for your proof, take a look at this."

Annabelle looked at the note and gasped, letting the clear evidence envelope fall to the ground. Charlie didn't even have to see it to know its contents.

Face up on the ground, the note, written with scratchy penmanship. It's red lettering shone in the moonlight.

To Miss Annabelle Baldwin of North Dormitory Room 421 and Mr. Charles Brooks of East Dormitory Room 217,

You have taken from me my partner in this danse macabre. For this, I will respond with a deluge of blood. Your blood.

Sgt. Brooks walked out the door after picking up the letter. He turned around. "Charlie, you two are the targeted. Keep close and stay safe."