The Missing Children (#OnceUponNow)

Who Lives Shall See.

     I gasped awake, scrambling out of the bed I'm in, only to find my ankles and wrists are tied down. I pulled on them. I could think of a couple colorful words to describe my current feelings. James bust through and I simply glared at him. He came over and untied a wrist, backing away while trying not to touch me. I undid my other wrist then both ankles.

     "Why'd you tie me up." It was more of a statement than a question. He looked down his emotions a mix of fear and shame.

     "Sorry sir, you were acting possessed. You kept mumbling something and trying to go back into the woods. I don't know why. You just collapsed in the woods. You were as pale as a ghost and acted like a statue. Do you remember anything?" He asked timidly.

     "In the woods, did you hear anything?" I asked, disregarding his inquiry for the moment.

     "Um...no. I don't think so, did you?" He asked. I just looked at him. Did I imagine it? No. It was too real.

     "Yes." I simply said, getting up. I pulled off my jacket, unstrapping my gun.

     I spent the next couple minutes disassembling, thoroughly cleaning, and reassembling. I scolded Berkly when he fumbled with his own, trying to reassemble his own after doing the same cleaning. I took a shower, changing into a dark grey dress shirt, a blood red tie, and a black sweater. I put on black skinny jeans and black combat boots. Berkly is in a white t-shirt, pale blue jeans, and white high top vans. By then it was noon. We left, going back to the station. I'd attached my gun to my belt on my hip, open. My badge, wallet, and phone in my pockets. Berkly has his gun on his hip as well, but I'm unsure on whether he remembers his other stuff or not.

     When we got to the station, sheriff what's-her-name tried to approach, but I didn't acknowledge her, leaving Berkly to talk to her. Sorry man. I approached the old files in the basement, flipping through the history of this town.

~X~

     "I knew it!" I shouted, holding up a file, triumphant at last.

     By this point, I'm covered in a thick layer of dust on my entire body, and my glasses are smeared with dust from trying to clean them. I'd finally found the file proving my suspicion. The town of Hamlin from Germany had moved over as a whole. No one left, no one joined. There were only descendants from the original town here. Apparently I'm a descendant from one of the families from the original Hamlin. They'd had a 'curse' in which all their children were taken, much like now. It's nothing more than a myth, but still...

     I'm not sure if one of my ancestors are one of the children, or of a runaway. The children were never found, not a single trace left behind. Like...now. I shook my head. Nope. Different. There was no modern, well, anything back then. We'll find them. It's just a serial kidnapping group and my own mental illness of some kind. That has to be the reasoning. I'm sick, but I have to finish this before I get help. I've already been called crazy because of my past and present actions. It'll be a surprise to no one if I were to be diagnosed as mentally unstable or something similar to that.

     "Sir?" Berkly asked, stepping inside for a moment.

     "Yes?" I glanced over at him, then realizing I'd been lost in thought and was still holding the file above my head. I abruptly brought my arm down quickly, clearing my throat.

     "What are you doing?" He asked, stepping into the dusty room. I ran a hand through my messy black hair that is kinda like a murky grey from the thick dust.

     "Finding proof of my suspicions. This town is an exact duplicate of the one in Germany so many years ago. We're probably the first outsiders they've seen in their lives. You probably the darkest skin tone that this town's seen in who knows how long. That's why they're so wary. They believe a curse is to blame, so that's why they're doing nothing to try to find the children." I summarized solemnly.

     "What's the curse?" He asked, genuinely curious. I shook my head.

     "I'm not sure, but I know it has something to do with the man playing the pipe. I'm somehow woven into the fabric of this mystery. I think my lineage has something to do with my being able to see and hear him, as well as the children that were singing behind him. They went missing last night. I heard them. I could've stopped them. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that my missing past may hold some information that could help solve this. I just...can't. Remember." I said, putting down the file and rubbing my temples. I keep trying to force myself to remember but all that happens is my getting a migraine.

     "Ah...what should we do now?" He asked, looking down, lost in thought. I shrugged, putting the file under one arm and clapping dust off of me and the file. When I was covered in a layer of dust much thinner I was satisfied. I smack his head with the file, sprinkling dust all over him as well.

     "I need water, I'm parched. I guess I inhaled too much of this dust." I said, waving my hand through the thick air. I don't want to risk having an asthmatic attack again. I don't have my inhaler on me, not the smartest I know.

     He nodded and we left, going through the station to the car. We got stares as we walked from those on the night shift. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to loosen some more of those stubborn dust particles from my midnight locks.

     I grabbed a water bottle and nodded when Berkly refused to let me drive. I grabbed a cloth from the glove box and poured some water on it, cleaning my glasses then my gun, putting it back into its holster. We reached the hotel quickly and after taking a quick shower I passed out in the bed, after making sure Berkly was asleep, of course.