Back in the city, Enoch trudged into his apartment, beat after a long, tiring day at the Empire. The night sky hung over him like an inky blanket starred with little lights that had no cheering effect on him. He flung his briefcase onto the sofa and beelined for the small bar in the corner of his living room.He poured himself a generous whiskey glass and breathed deep as the amber liquid swirled around inside. "Heaven today was hell," he muttered to himself. Financial loss reports and machinery breakdowns had dominated his day. If only he could predict the market better, he thought, then maybe things wouldn't be quite so bleak.Enoch collapsed onto the sofa, wincing when the leather groaned under him. He took a long drag off his drink, wincing a little as it burned on the way down. He picked up his remote and turned on the TV, hoping for some sort of distraction from the headaches of the day.The anchorman's voice bounced sharply around the room. "Breaking news: A luxury yacht has be
Stephen's eyes flickered to a brilliant white light, with just the steady beep punctuating the silence. He lay still, feeling the dull ache of pain mixed with the warmth of a soft hospital bed. His head turned upward slowly as his mind worked furiously to piece together fragmented memories of a sinking yacht and the water's cold embrace.It was a small, sterilized room with white walls and only one window. He distinguished two security guards at their posts through the frosted glass door, shadowy silhouettes to ensure that no man went in or out of the room. Stephen's heart began to race. The last moments still fresh in his mind: Yuna clinging onto him, the frenzy of the water, and then that "Mission Successful" message that had flashed before his eyes as he sank into unconsciousness."What… what happened?" he muttered, reaching to sit up; his muscles were stiff and weak. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor against his feet. Panic surged in through him when his g
Marianne's car drew in front of the luxury hotel, and Stephen just stared blankly out at the front doors. It was as if it were a place he had never seen before—foreign to him. Marianne turned toward him with a glance and a weak smile. "Come on, let's go inside," she whispered, pushing him toward the doors.No sooner had they entered the spacious and luxurious lobby than a group of hotel employees, including the manager, were lining up with their gifts in hand. As they neared, he beamed at them. "Welcome back, Mr. King," he said warmly.Stephen turned his eyes to the manager. Furrows deepened on his brow as he tried to think who this man was. A look of confusion swam over his eyes, and the manager's smiling face fell. "I—I'm sorry if I did something wrong," he stammered.Marianne stepped in, smooth as silk. "Stephen isn't feeling well," she said. "We appreciate your concern, but he really does need to rest."She sidestepped the staff and took Stephen's arm lightly, leading him across t
She drove back to the penthouse; a sense of relief washed over her as she finally felt in control of events, securing her family's safety and peace. As she parked the car, the city's lights glittered like scattered diamonds, contrasting strongly with the dark thoughts whirling in her mind.She took the elevator to the last floor: the penthouse. Softly chiming, the doors slid open, and she stepped out into the corridor, squaring her shoulders and smoothing her expression. She pushed open the door on Stephen and Ariane, who were sitting on the couch and could not have looked more content. Stephen was reading from some storybook, and Ariane had her head on his shoulder with her eyes shining in a gleam of happiness.A pang of guilt stabbed through Marianne, but she quashed it. This was necessary.Her mother, standing a ways to the side, turned to watch her enter. Her eyes swept the room, seeking. "Where's Yuna?" she asked. Her voice edged with unease."I've gotten rid of her," Marianne re
Stephen lay in bed, his mind swirled with confusion and unease. On getting to sleep, he found himself in a dream. He had visions of being on a yacht, the deck slick with water. He was on a yacht with a little girl, and the girl was very important to him. He couldn't see her face clearly. A storm raged around him, waves lashing, and he clung desperately to the little child. The yacht tilted violently, and waves crashed over them."Wait!" Stephen yelled, but his voice was lost against the roaring waves. The girl slipped out of his hold, and he was after her, using his own body to shield this thin, weak girl from all the attacking waves. He crashed to the yacht's wall and into the club-like head—the vision blurred now—and he was bestowed with a message: "Mission Successful.".Stephen sprang up with a start, pouring in sweat. He sat up, taking a big breath, trying to shake off the vivid dream still playing in his mind. He looked at the time: 7:05 AM. His house was still; the rest were asl
When the rollercoaster finally reached its highest point, Ariane's joyous scream cut through the loudest colors of the theme park. Her giggles were now turned with the wind, as the ride descended; small hands clasped onto cotton candy like one would a precious treasure. It spun, a whirl of pink against her smiling face. Stephen stood a few feet away, looking at her with a small smile, all the uneasiness he was feeling earlier long gone with his daughter's pure delight.She had just bought soft drinks, and as Marianne was on her way back, she saw Yuna standing at the edge of the park. Her heart skipped. "What on earth is she doing here?" Marianne muttered under her breath, mouth now agape with a mixture of surprise and concern. She had thought Yuna had left, and the last thing she wanted was for Yuna to run into Stephen, or worse still, for Stephen to run into Yuna.Marianne hurried back, trying to keep out of sight as much as possible, moving to where Stephen was. She looked back over
Victor perched on the edge of his cot, the thin mattress creaking under his weight. He was supposed to be getting some light reading in—his book was two years old by now, but still hadn't been read—but his eyes kept flicking back to the television screen every few minutes, incapable of fully disregarding the background noise. There was a story running about some new park that had just opened, and Victor's heart skipped a beat as Stephen's face flashed onto the screen.Victor's grip on the book tightened, his knuckles white. "How is he alive?" he muttered under his breath. Clarke had assured him that Stephen was taken care of. Thoughts began racing in his mind, colliding in a frenzy of disbelief and anger. He dropped the book—its pages splayed open as it hit the floor—and moved closer to the TV, eyes narrowing at the sight of Stephen's smiling face.Across town, in a vast penthouse suite, Stephen was rummaging through the wardrobe, his frustration growing. Marianne had gone out to take
Stephen's heart began to race. It hadn't been some dream or just a flick at the back of his imagination. This was real, connected with something from his past. He must be able to remember it. There was his profile displayed before him on the screen: **Name: Stephen King Level: Penicia OneSkills: Persuasion, Prediction Points: 25**.His eyes fell on the 'Rewards' icon. It seemed to pulse, urging him to tap on it. He did so after a moment's hesitation. A new window opened, showing his current skill points and the option to unlock a new skill. "Persuasion skills?" Stephen thought. If he could use these to get answers from Marianne, it might be worth the risk.Just as he was about to select the new skill, the screen vanished into thin air, leaving Stephen staring through the now-normal room. He felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. He had to play this carefully. Gathering his thoughts, he decided it was time to head back to the hotel and confront Marianne.Meanwhile, Enoc