The Chameleon Man

Finale Chapter

Part Ten: The Theater

The surrounding air was frigid cold as the detective trudged along the shadowy pathways. To other passersby, it may have seemed like their visitor was ready to escape this den. Leave behind its mysteries and hauntings, and return to a normal air. But not so with Peb-

Pebble skidded to a halt as he noticed a few familiar faces running along the paved roads.

"Wentley? Roger?" he asked suddenly, stepping out from beneath the shadows of a store awning. "What are you two doing here?"

Roger jumped back a bit at the sudden appearance. "Well... isn't it obvious? We're solving the crime."

Wentley stepped forward, quickly writing a note.

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Where have you been? I thought- you were going to try to save my grandpa. But you're here?

You went to the east, didn't you? Even when you knew that put my grandfather much closer to death.

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Pebble removed his hat. "Yes I did go east. I'm sorry. But I don't mean for anyone to be left behind anymore. If you come with me, there will still be enough time to stop this man."

The three huddled against the shop window away from the mist as he explained, "I read the outsider's final note. His history with your grandfather seems a complicated one. But now he's determined to make a 'change', whatever that means."

"By taking the life of old man Axentrium?" Roger asked.

"Yes. But I believe the outsider means to strike more enemies than one today. Axentrium is only his first."

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But how will we possibly get there in time? You had the head start, and now...

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Roger watched the note passed between the two. "Well, it just looks like we'll have to leg it. I reckon, we have a two minute rest, and we should hopefully be able to run the rest of the trek onward..."

Pebble took a deep breath. "Or..."

...

"You can teleport?!" Roger exclaimed. "Why did you never tell us about this?"

The detective gave no reply as the three raced along the shadows toward a brick-reddish haze in the distance. He procured a small torch lit by a red flame, handing it to Wentley to hold.

"These halls tend to wear on the mind, trapping you in past bad memories. This will help you focus for now."

Wentley gazed into the red fiery glow, the surrounding blackness kept at bay.

"You don't need one then?" Roger asked, mesmerized himself.

"I've spent a lot of time in here. Learned other methods of keeping my sanity." Pebble fixed his gaze on a small paper portrait held betwixt his left thumb and forefinger. His eyes closed gently as he focused on it.

Seeing this, Wentley then brought out his own picture. It seemed to hold both a younger version of Wentley, and a tall man beside him, both standing in a field. Both had the biggest grins.

Pebble noticed this out of the corner of his eye, but chose not to comment.

"We're here then."

The three slid slightly as they slowed, Roger and Wentley spinning nearly out of control before Pebble pulled them back. The large looming figure of the brick behemoth stood in front of them.