The Future Diary 2: Blood Of The Past

Cats and Reporters

The next morning, Dalton and Dawson sat across from each other in a coffee shop, bleakly staring into their cups. The police had came, asked questions, and Dalton wasn't having any of it.

"Our son is in good hands," Dawson said. "Trust me."

"My son," Dalton corrected. "You didn't really contribute much there."

Dawson sipped his drink. "Sorry."

The killer on the news had attacked her. But why? According to the police reports, all of the victims had been twenty-something women that were cut up in alleyways. Why go into her apartment, and kill someone who wasn't a twenty-something woman?

She thought about Mason, and a tear came to her eye. The kid had sacrificed himself for her. If it hadn't been for him, she would've just been another name on the news. Dawson saw this and frowned.

"It's gonna be okay."

"No, it isn't," Dalton said.

"You know what, you're right. It isn't gonna be okay. I should stop lying to you. I've done that enough already."

"Right." Dalton stopped, looking up at the man she once loved. He had nappy black hair, a cute, boyish face, and mellow brown eyes. It hurt her to see them again. "Why me?"

"Why you?"

"Yes. Why did that person attack me? Why is this game happening, if it is real?"

Dawson swallowed. "I guess I've got some explaining to do." He shifted in his chair, leaning closer. "This game is all about remaining anonymous. I've had to do a lot of research to figure it out. Met a few people in the process."

"What do you mean remaining anonymous?"

"If you're the last one to not be known by anybody in the game, you win."

"But can't you just hide?"

"The note said no hiding."

"Why do we have to listen to it? It's probably just some sick fuck messing with us."

Dawson swallowed. "We have to listen because it's a game of the God. The God of Time created this game. He's dying."

Dalton got up from the table. "You're a piece of shit, you know that? How dare you waste my time."

"I'm serious."

"Fuck off."

Dalton began to walk away, fuming in rage. It was raining outside now, and the streets were flooded. Dalton exited the restaurant, only to be met by a swamp of reporters.

"Mrs. Hess, can you give us details on your attack?"

"Mrs. Hess, how did you survive the Calico Killer?"

"Dalton, can you tell us what happened last night?"

Dalton squirmed away from the pushing and the shoving of the microphones, and the scent of stale cologne. She wanted to cry, to just be alone with her son, which was at Dawson's house, of all goddamn places.

"She's not up for answering questions now," Dawson said. "Or ever." One of the reporters opened their mouths, but Dawson ushered her out of the crowd.

"I'm going to your estate and I'm getting my son. Then you can get out of my life."

"I'm completely serious, Dalton. Not believing me would cause your death."

Dalton whirled around, a raging look on her face. "Are you fucking threatening me?"

"You and Mason were attacked because you got those letters. That means that the Calico killer is somebody in the game. They know who you are, and I guarantee that won't be the last time they make an appearance."