Chapter 1: Returning In Rain

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Calm acoustic music hummed in the speakers of Bailey's small car, barely drowning out the pattering of the rain on the windshield and hood. Bailey, eyes ever vigilant on the road, let out a long, deep sigh. Today was nerve wracking, as social days usually are. Bailey really started to despise social gatherings over recent years, especially with family members. She knew that most of her family was uncomfortable around her, seeing as they treated her like a stranger that somehow wandered into their household. Trying to act hospitable and polite around an irritating, awkward stranger.

She didn't know why she bothered staying so late at the reunion, leaving at 10:30 PM when her own home was hours and hours away. For the time being, it felt like the right thing to do, spending as much time as she could with her family, but now it only felt more pathetic and clingy the more she thought about it. She knew they wanted her to leave sooner, she just knew.

She was always better off alone.
She was fine.
It was good for everyone.
She was happy being alone.

It was honestly relieving to come closer to her home in the countryside, starting to recognize far away houses and large trees that became comfort to her in her lonesome. No more passing through the big city and crammed neighborhoods. Home was her paradise. The rain started to clear up as she got closer to her perfect isolation near the forest.

I'll feed Lily, then go to bed.

Feed her dog, then sleep the unnecessary stress away. That was her plan.

She was sorely mistaken, thinking that her night would end so easily.

A white figure shown in the distance on the side of the road, illuminated by her headlights. Bailey slowed down the car and squinted, trying to see past the slightly wet windshield to get a better look.

"The hell..?" She muttered.

Was that a dead animal? As she drove closer, the features became clearer.
It was a man, bound and beaten, laying motionless on the curb.

"Oh my God!" Bailey gasped as she slammed on her breaks, the tires of her car screeching to a halt.

She quickly undid her seatbelt and opened up the driver's door, hopping out onto the wet road and rushing to the figure. He was laying face down in the grass while his body was curled on the road. Good Lord, anyone not paying attention could have easily run him over. His hands were bound behind his back, his wrists scratched and burned from the hard rope. His arms were covered in bruises, too. She could see a cloth tied around his head, around where his mouth was. She turned the man over on his side to see his face.

Bailey's heart might have stopped.

ENTHUSIASTIC CULT LEADER LEAVES ENTIRE COMPOUND DEAD!
Suspect still at large

Bailey backed away in horror, disbelief, fear and disgust. This was him. This was Daniel Jones. The cult leader she's seen again and again on the front of every newspaper. He was a murderer. He was broken in front of her, covered in gashes and scrapes.
Looking him over, she noticed a particularly large, bloody wound in his stomach, the blood showing through his white shirt. He was bleeding a lot. Bailey stepped closer to him once more and kneeled down, feeling at his neck. He still had a pulse...but for how long would he keep it?

She stood up and put her face into her hands.
She was so close to her home, now. So far from the local police stations and hospitals. She could do the entire country a favor and leave him to die and get rid of the threat entirely...yet something inside her mind told her otherwise, her thoughts bickering back and fourth.

If you leave him to die, you're no better than he is. You're a murderer.
I didn't hurt him.
Yet you are choosing not to save him. You're still apart of his demise if you leave him.

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