"Charlie! CHARLIE!" I yelled into the newfound darkness. No answer. I tried again. "Charles, PLEASE." Nothing. I hastily bent down against the cool brick wall of the escape tunnel. We were truly never getting out of the Misty Asylum, and I would never get to see my parents again, and to warn the town of the inevitable danger heading their way. The video camera that Peter told me to use was still rolling. I could see absolutely nothing in front of me in the pitch black darkness that seemed to consume every ounce of my spirit that I'd thought I had left in me. I hoped I could find the walkie talkie to warn Pete and the others of the danger that the world would take if they didn't find Reverend Hamilton. If they were still alive...
I cried out in frustration. How could I have been so undeniably stupid? Everyone else except Peter and I must be dead by now. Yet I knew Charles wasn't truly dead...He wouldn't die. He couldn't have... not without a fight, and the fact that I would have felt my Spirit crack if he truly was gone.
Shaking uncontrollably, I got up from the ancient and dirty concrete floor of the tunnel for the millionth time, and kept walking forward. I kept calling him, not hesitating a single breath or octave lower or shorter than necessary. I wasn't going to give up that easily on my boyfriend. It had seemed like painfully slow hours had passed by the time I finally saw the bright beam of light appear before me.
It was blindingly bright as my eyes adjusted to the first light I had probably seen in hours. Right ahead, in the general direction I was looking for Charles in, I saw the tunnel. The power was finally restored, for I could hear the hum of electricity. Phew. But then I heard a loud, scuttling noise... behind me, right back in the black part of the tunnel I just got out of.
Right before I started to escape and get the others', I saw my flashlight from where it (oddly) had defintiely NOT been just a second before. I bent over and picked it up, clicking the switch to on. Miraculously, after all it had been through, it still worked. Having a better grip of reality, and that Charlie could die if I left to get my friend's help, I decided to keep looking for him. I couldn't just betray him like that; especially not after all the protection and love and lessons he had provided for me when I had needed him the very most. Even if I never thought we would end up here and possibly never come back to our home. I walked briskly back into the opposite direction that I was momentarily planning to go. My flashlight shining through the darkness, I called his name again for about 30 more minutes. I was just about to give up and accept his fate, when I passed a corner and saw him. He was lying down on the ground, and seemed to be unconscious. "Charles..?" I asked. He stirred. I said his name once more, approaching him when he finally looked up at me with those stunning green eyes he had. His face was bruised up and bleeding with sand grits from the cement, and . I said "Are you okay?" He nodded. "Can you talk?" He shook his head. He got up to hug me. I opened my arms, preparing to reunite with the love of my life, until I heard a cackle behind me that I knew was the whole reason any of this was happening. The so-calles hero of Misty, Connecticut that had died. The founder of the asylum.
I turned around and grabbed my pistol from my gun back pocket and aimed it at Dr. Kendrick Mulligan' s face.
It was my father.
