Scars Of Time

Dream Of Black

Baltimore 1838

The team walked through the muddy streets of Baltimore, searching for any signs or clues that would help them understand why they were there. So far, they hadn't had much luck.

Upon Flynn's suggestion, they checked bulletin boards, looking for more posters, much like the one they found when Douglass was born. There hadn't been anything among the papers tacked to the board.

Rufus sighed, "What now?"

Lucy shook her head, feeling defeated. "I don't know...I..." Her voice trailed off but her eyes were locked on something up ahead.

The team saw her distracted and turned to see what had caught her attention. Nothing had stood out to them. Wyatt asked, "Lucy? What's going on?"

Lucy blinked at the question. "I think that's Poe."

Flynn's eyes scanned the crowd up ahead, in search of the famed poet. Wyatt had turned but didn't keep his gaze locked on the crowd long enough before he had glanced back to Lucy.

"What's Poe got to do with anything?" Wyatt questioned.

Lucy smiled. "I doubt he has anything to do with why we're here, but...I mean, that's Edgar Allen Poe! In the flesh!"

Rufus shuddered. "I always thought his stuff was too creepy."

Flynn muttered, "Looks like he's headed this way..."

Before they could act naturally in their environment, Poe had turned to head up their side of the street. His dark eyes landed on them, and what little color he had in his face had drained, as if he had seen a ghost. He balked at them, turned on his heel, and ran the opposite direction.

"That's not suspicious behavior at all," Rufus stated.

Wyatt shook his head. "Come on! Let's follow him!"

The group ran after the Gothic poet as he ran down the cobblestone streets. It was clear to the team that Poe was trying to lose them within the crowds of Baltimore. So far, he was nearing success.

They followed Poe as he ran down an alley, only to discover that it had been a dead-end. Poe whirled around, eyes wide with fear as he took the team in. He raised his hands in front of himself defensively. "I don't know anything!"

"They why'd you run?" Wyatt asked.

Rufus nodded. "Running makes you look guilty..." he grimaced at his words, knowing that he had projected his feelings from his time onto Poe unintentionally.

Poe stammered, "Look, I already told you... I don't know a Lucy!"

Lucy's head shot up. "I'm Lucy."

Poe blinked rapidly at her, looking her up and down. "You're not with the others, are you?"

"What others?" Lucy asked, trying to keep the poet calm long enough to figure out what he had been talking about.

Poe shook his head. "No...no, you're that Blood group..."

"We're not Bloodstone," Lucy stated. "Nor are we Rittenhouse."

"Who are you then?" Poe asked.

"We're friends," Lucy explained. "We need your help."

Present Day

Tenley's eyes slowly opened to the bright lights of the hospital room. Her throat was dry and coarse, her limbs felt weak, and her stomach burned with searing pain.

Furrowing her brow, she tried to sit up but quickly realized that she'd be unable to do so for a little while yet. She suddenly recalled being shot. She knew that gunshots took some time to heal, to get back on one's feet after the fact. She didn't know what day it was, or how much time had passed since that day.