Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Ben Krohn Hawkins' LiveJournal:

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Saturday, March 4th, 2006
6:49 pm	It was cold. That can be assured. It was good, Ben thought, that at least the snow had not been warped by the nightmare. He could remember it in far too many dimensions of his mind- he could feel it, when his thoughts stopped it pervaded the silence. Like soldiers returning from wars with hollow cheeks and ever-lasting fear. Click, flick, froosh. Smoking is good for you. (75 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, November 24th, 2005
8:53 am	Dawn breaks with cold and fell purpose, illuminating the normally vibrant and full-of-life valley with a diminished and unpromising warmth. The migrants had returned to their make-shift hovels, filled with confusion and dread for what they had seen of their beloved Saviour, their leader, was that he was of an uncompramising evil. The Carnival was barely awake, silently milling about. Samson wandered throghout the rows of corn were Ben had fled, his face marred by grimace of despair. Gabriel, Ruthie and Stumpy Dreifuss accompanied him, keeping their eyes peeled. They passed an empty cross, where a scarecrow had once hung. They all paused, staring with open-mouthed dread as they saw Ben's body, smeared and soaked with blue, fallen upon the bare-chested and blue-soaked body of Brother Justin. Neither was moving. Samson moved towards the down-turned youth, producing his hip-flask for the age-old test of life: It's semi-reflective metallic surface fogged under Ben's breath, coming silently from his nose. "He's alive!" Suprise. Ben's form was lifted, carried from where he had fallen and taken unconscious back to the Carnival's grounds as a large, old house watched the proceedings from its perch upon the hill. Stumpy sat with his wife and distraught daughter- who's new husband, Jonesy, had not returned. "Well, we gotta go." Libby broke out into fresh tears and rose. "Not without him!" Her mother rose to comfort her. "Honey..." Stumpy joined them. "Y'see, all those people.... There's thousands of 'em. They all follow the Preacher. My god, when they find out what Ben Hawkins' done..." "We can't stay." Agreed his wife, solemnly. "Y'know what I bet?" Spoke up Stumpy. "My god, you know what I bet? I bet old Jonesy already headed out, he's already waitin' for us, up on down the road." Bittersweep lies to comfort. "Y'think?" Asked Libby, having nothing else to believe. "Well, hell yeah. Hell, he's a resourceful fella, that Jonesy. Smells trouble a mile away." Both Stumpy and his wife grinned, knowing they had to to convince their grief-stricken daughter. "C'mon, kiddo." They bundled themselves into the nearby car. Samson sat in his truck, that held Management's old trailer. He leaned out the window, hoping for good news. His drive returned and hopped in. "Any luck?" Silence. "Just... Drive." The worker made a sound of protest. "I said drive." The Carnival moved on, and within Management's old trailer, upon his old bed where the ancient Russian had spent the last of his many years, lay unconscious Ben Hawkins. (Comment on this)
Saturday, November 19th, 2005
8:06 am	Wedding Present How he came across the item is a mystery, perhaps mentioned in a book or his powers yielded images of it. Either is highly unlikely. Of what is importance, though, is that the Bar's reach extended far enough to at least replicate it, although Ben had no funds enough to pay for it. Ben Hawkins had Susan's wedding present. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 1st, 2005
8:31 pm	Ben Hawkins was sitting, curled, in the corner. Terrible thoughts ran counter-clockwise throughout his brain and dragged tired emotions with them. Failure is the most bitter taste of them all. Torn between an urge to be outside and an urge to be alone, Ben Hawkin's lowered head went to work. The effort behind the activity was trivial- like forcing one self to sleep. It was the manifestation that was trying on the system. Ben's eyes were closed and were no longer operating, allowing a fresh pair to open. These were incorporeal, like the form that possessed them and walked with purpose about the bar. A projection, if you will, of only mind and sight but of no matter. (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 22nd, 2005
6:43 am	the Raven Ben Hawkins pretty much slept where he had sat, though he only was able to sleep in snatches. Drained both physically and emotionally, he was currently trying to deny thoughts of food. It'd been days since he'd last eaten, after all. His clothing- the sleeves of his shirt, mostly- were stained a brilliant blue. He was exhausted. He had nothing to do, really, in the time he wasted simply sitting in the corner of the room with his knees drawn up and his head lowered, except try to stop certain memories from coming to light for further angst. He knew this was getting ridiculous, but he would never admit it. The sound of footsteps immediately alerted Ben to someone's presence, which was impossible- the door was locked. "Son." The sound was somehow soothing, especially compared to the sounds of Ben's own ragged breath. The boy looked up and saw the last family he'd had left. He sniffed and made to stand, but instead Henry Scudder sat down. Throughout his life, Ben Hawkins had always had dreams with Henry in them- more recently, at times he would even see an illusory Henry, who would offer guidance or a non-literal shove to send Ben deeper into the mysteries. This specter seemed strangely without purpose, since there was no secret to be discovered here. Ben unfolded and leaned against him, now sobbing uncontrollably. Henry waited a few long moments, slowly drawing in breath and exhaling, before he spoke. "How long has it been since you have eaten?" Henry was always incredibly well-spoken for a man of his background. Ben didn't speak, he only continued to weep. It took a long while for Ben could gather a voice to respond with. "She's dead- y'all dead. You dead." Henry nodded, slowly. "Your mother wished to die, Ben Hawkins. My death? Is not your fault." Ben sobbed again, then managed to spit out a response. "I coulda saved you! You're dead 'cause I didn't." "It was only a matter of time before fate caught up with me. I hid from the others for so long, I thought myself free from the madness. I escaped from the Usher's camp- that he killed me while I drove away is not your fault. You were coming as fast as you could and I did not detect his presence." "Son, how long has it been since you have eaten?" "Couple, maybe five days." "This is unacceptable. Your strength, Ben Hawkins, is one of the last things you have. You can't let it wane into nothing." Ben broke away from the specter, in case Henry was going to make Ben go outside. "'M fine." For now, at least, the tears had stopped. Both men drew slow breaths. "That you were absent when the Ballerina was murdered is not your fault- you cannot escape your destiny and it was this destiny that drove you to that fight. Do you think you would have even been there, when she was murdered? How would you have known when to be there, to stop it?" Ben turned his head to respond to his father, but the comforting figure was gone, a cold reminder that it wasn't real to begin with. Ben Hawkins slowly and shakily stood and slowly made his way over to the door. He wiped away the tears with his forearm, smearing just a little blue onto his cheeks, unlocked the door and made his way outside. (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 15th, 2005
10:14 am	Comfort comes in strange shapes and forms- when wounded physically or emotionally, creatures tend to seek out places of comfort. For cats, high places are synonymous with safety. For people, though? Each to their own. Ben found himself positioned in one of the corners of the room, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them and his head lowered. He'd never been good at crying. When he did cry, it came out in chocked sobs and gasps. He cried now, in seclusion and safety. Meg is dead. Shot in the fucking head. Murdered by her enemy, when she was alone and had none to protect her. And now she is dead. Emotion never came easily to him- he only experienced it when things boiled over, when pushed into a corner. His mind was stuck in and endless loop, Meg was dead, Meg was dead. It stung every part of his soul mercilessly. She was alone. He could have been there, Ben Hawkins has fought to save others and won before. Ben Hawkins was not there to fight and so Meg died. Ben Hawkins failed, failed to save her. Failed to save Mama. Failed to save Father. Failed. Ben Hawkins never fully understood the inner workings of people. He subconsciously disliked crowds because he felt separate to them. He has always had great trouble relating. Meg Giry was what he would call a friend, his closest friend. And now she was dead. Ben was alone in the world- both this and his own. "Filth, you filth. Don't touch me, you filth. Go! Filth." He failed Mama. He was filth. "You're Marked by the Beast, boy." And Mama is dead. He found his Father. Found him, after all these years. A dried up old man, a coward. A courageous man who left his family to protect them from his enemies. Father was the last he had. Father loved him. Ben Hawkins took his Father before his Father's enemy and nearly failed to protect him. When Father escaped, Ben Hawkins failed to protect him from Ben Hawkin's enemies. Father was brought before the monster and the monster murdered him. Father is dead. Ben Hawkins was alone in the world. Ben Hawkins had Sophie- he loved her, passionately. Sophie left, turned her back on him. The monster took her, too. He failed to protect her. Filth, Ben Hawkins is filth. And then despair turned to anger. He screamed, yelled, roared. Rage took his power and used it. Objects flew about the room, lights flickered and exploded. The room itself shook though none outside could see it. The chest of drawers fell, the bed slid as the room shook. And then it stopped. Lack of air resulted in a brief hiatus. And then he turned the power against himself, the filth he was. He tried to unmake himself, tare the life from his own body. He already knew it was impossible, but tried he did. Henry Scudder's knife was gone, but Ben Hawkin's pocket knife remained. Ben Hawkins cut shallow wounds into his arm, again and again. Thin blue lines of pain that lasted only a moment before disappearing and being made afresh. He lit a cigarette and put it out on the same arm, gritting his teeth and roaring against the pain. The smell of burnt flesh lingered though the wound did not. By now Ben's clothes were smeared blue and the blade of his pocket knife a similar colour. He was satiated, if only momentarily. (Comment on this)
Monday, October 10th, 2005
2:56 pm	Ben fled, ran as fast as he could. Passed countless startled people, trucks, cars, trailers, carts. Running for his life, literally. He glanced backwards to assure himself he had escaped thusfar and kept running. The dusty exspanse which the Carnival was sprawled on gave way to a field of corn, which grew as high as a man. It was here where Ben ran to. He dissapeared between the rows and kept running, never stopping. Stopping early would mean to fight and to die. He pushed his way through the stalks, constantly glancing behind him to see if he was being followed. And suddenly the pitch black cornfield was illuminated with lightning and thunder, though there was no rain. This place gave way to visions, memories of his dreams and things he had seen. Of himself running through the cornfields with thunder and lightning, while some monstrous being with long dark hair and tattoos of trees upon his body persued him with harsh breath and heavy steps. Ben, in the real world once again, glanced backwards and ran further. Another vision, from his dreams- coming upon the figure, with the same tree tattoo as Justin. The Usher of Destruction, the Dark One. Another vision from another nightmare, himself again being persued by the Usher. He ran left from the row he was in, pushing his way through the stalks until he considered himself temporarily safe enough to pause, glance back the way he had came and with a shaking hand pull Henry's knife from his boot. For only a moment longer he paused, watching the way he had came. He turned as a sudden bolt of illumination revealed the path before him, complete with Brother Justin standing before him swinging the scythe with fatal accuracy and purpose. Ben's arm was sliced open, melancholic coloured blood spilled quickly from the wound. He stepped backwards, away from the beast and the beast advanced, the once friendly looking priests' eyes pure black orbs of fury and hate, teeth bared savagely. Ben fled further, again pushing his way through the corn while terrible and savage laughter echoed around him. Lightning revealed to him that he was close to the end of the field, nearly free from this deathtrap. The laughter continued maddeningly, even when he stopped before a scarecrow and gazed up at it with a burst of desperate genius. Justin followed at his own pace, hunting after the boy. He paused, seeing a blue-blood splattered leaf and examined the path ahead for such evidence before continueing. He was jogging now and knew that he was close- the blood trail upon the leaves indicated this. He ducked under the coat of a scarecrow and continued onwards in search for his prey, coming to a halt when he heard the clang of empty cans hund from the scarecrow's wooden beams. Justin had lost the trail, which was evident enough. The dark Avatar turned, just as with a cry Ben flung himself upon Justin and knocked him down. The knife's blade was deflected as it came dangerously close to Justin's chest. In retaliation, Justin sliced Ben open from his side, partly across his torso. Ben fell backwards, letting out a harsh sound of pain. Justing quickly rose and loomed over him. "Look at you, boy." Ben was breathing quickly and sharply now, vital blood quickly becoming scarce. "Such a sad mess." Ben raised his head to look at the wound, then collapsed again. Justin tilted him up, cradling his head. "So young." Ben spoke only one word, trying to hold onto consciousness: "Sophie!" "She's waiting for you." Ben suddenly remembered the vision Belyakov and the vision he had seem when the Russian gave Ben the boon and rank of dominant Avatar of Light: "A dark heart dwells where branches meet." Thne Belyakov had stabbed the knife into the gnarled oak tree, the image of which was tattoed onto Justin's chest. "I'll be quick. You will not suffer." Justin assured Ben, raising the scythe for a killing blow. "My kingdome come!" Ben reached out for the knife, which had fallen nearby, and gripped it relatively easily. He bared his teeth with effort malice and placed it firmly in Justin's flesh, where the branches of the oak met. Justin gasped and fell, chocking a little on blood. After several moments, Ben managed with great effort to slowly rise to his knees and crawl forwards, to the fallen form of Justin. Still breathing, Justin's fingers uselessly gripped Ben's clothes as the young man drew himself up and placed both hands on the protruding knife's handle. "Plunge thee deep!" Ben leant his full weight on the weapon, pushing it deeper into Justin until it could no longer be seen. A bolt of lightning hurtled down from the heavens and struck the great oak tree which stood upon the distant hill overlooking the whole valley, causing it to explode in a ball of fire and burn brightly. Justin's arms fell back to the ground as he died. Weak and weary, Ben gave in to the increasing blackness around him and lost consciousness. (Comment on this)
1:42 pm	The carnival was alive at night, positively buzzing with people, noise and lights. Men stood infront of sideshows calling out eagerly for an audience, people spoke to each other in exhited tones. The Collossus, a mamoth of a Ferris Wheel, noisily turned to the great enjoyment of its passengers. Samson and some of the upper members of the carnie echelon walked towards the honored guests- Brother Justin Crowe, his sister Iris and their wheel-chair bound adopted father, flanked by Justin's personal guard, the Knights of Jericho. "Reverend, I'm so pleased that you could come down this evening." Samson smiled genuinely and in a friendly manner. "We are so glad that you and your troupe have brought such joy to the faithful brethren." Justin replied, also smiling in a generally friendly and charismatic manner. "Bein' that there is so many women and children present, wonderin' if your men would mind leavin' the weapons in the vehicles." "Sorry Microbe, no can-do." Replied Varlyn pleasently, although his distaste for the carnies was thinly veiled. "We've already had one attempt on the Reverend's life." Samson replied jovially. "I read the papers! This codger in the wheel-chair took a shot at 'im!" Samson turned to Brother Norman Balthus, the now mute and wheel chair bound man. "You ain't packin' iron there, are ya feller?" A few people laughed good naturedly. "No, of course not." Spoke the well mannered Iris Crowe. She turned to her brother. "Justin. He's right. Guns should not be among the children." "Forget it." Spoke Varlyn, defensively. Both Justin and Varlyn knew there was some trap in place here tonight. Of course, they had no choice but to spring it to flush out Ben. "No, no. My sister's right." Justin said, "She's quite right, Varlyn. Please ask your men to leave the weapons in the trucks." Varlyn paused before speaking, obviously disliking the idea. "You heard the Reverend!" The Knights of Jericho were disarmed. "Good. Now that that's settled, I think my sister and I would like to take a turn in your Ferris Wheel." Iris spoke up. "I'm-" "Yes, Sister Iris has always been quite frightened of heights." Iris looked from her Brother to the Carnies to the Ferris wheel with the look of a startled deer. Justin spoke up. "But tonight she insists on overcoming that fear, inspired by the courageos brethren and the many fears they have faced and overcome in these desperate times." He was speaking more to his sister than anyone else, although the crowd let out a hearty "Amen!" none the less. Iris hissed quietly to herself: "What a prick." Samson gladly pointed the way to the ride and the pair walked towards it, Iris fixated in fear by it and Justin tightly holding her arm. She had no choice in the matter. A happy crowd watched the pair with amazed eyes. Jonesy brought the wheel to a stop with an empty seat at the bottom and opened the safety bar on it. "Welcome aboard, Brother Justin." He said, smiling welcomingly. "Thank you." The pair boarded and sat down, with Varlyn watching carefully in case anything shifty was attempted. Jonesy pulled the safety bar back into position and started the Wheel going. Varlyn wandered passed him, to keep an eye on the Justin and Iris. Jonesy turned slightly and nodded to Samson, who then turned and nodded to Stumpy Dreifuss, co-owner of the Cooch Show, husband of one of the dancers and father of the other. Suddenly, the sideshow came to life and a banner was hoisted. "Step right up, Brothahs and Sistahs! Step! Riiiight! Up! And witness the amazin', Benjamin Saint Jooooooohn!" His accent was deliberately accentuated to cheesy levels, but the crowd bought took it hook line and sinker. "That's right, folks! Straight from the Holy Land! Witness the Lord's healin' powers!" The act went on, quickly gaining an audience for the show within the tent. "Open your eyes. It's glorious!" Brother Justin stared at the world far below in amazement. He leaned forwards a little to see Stumpy Dreifuss, who's words were only partially audible, causing the seat to rock just a little and make Iris tense further. "Don't do that!" She said in a terrified tone that was barely a whisper. Justin saw what was happening far below and a grim smile graced his usually homely features. So that was where his nemesis, the boy Ben, was hidden. He whispered to himself. "Thou shalt be strong." Within the tent, Stumpy Dreifuss addressed the crowd. "Welcome, brothers and sisters to the amazing Benjamin Saint John Travellin' Crusadin' Revival." He placed his cane under his arm and clapped, encouraging the audience. "My name is Brother Lazarus Duboir and I stand before you as livin' testimony-" Ben cut him off. Unlike the last revival shown, Ben was not wearing Scudder's old tux. He was dressed plainly and filthily in his own clothes. "That's enough." Stumpy was a little put out. "My Lord, brothers and sisters, here he is! The right Reverend-" Again Ben cut him off. "Enough!" "Benjamin Saint John!" Stumpy left the stage. "Turn that music off." Ben said, pointing to the nearby Gramaphone. "Okay! Which onesa y'all need healin'?" Ben called, immediately down to business. Nearly the entire crowd put their hands up, calling out to him for Holy Healing. A spotlight followed Ben as he walked amongst the crowd. "What's wrong with you?" He asked to a boy, who stood before his mother. "He's deaf. Has been stone deaf since he was born." Ben placed his hands over the boy's ears and his head fell forwards a little with exertion. Upon the Ferris Wheel, Brother Justin cried out in pain and gripped his ears. "Justin!?" Iris called, fearfully. "Justin, what!?" Justin shook his head and continued to make pained noises. Ben removed his hands from the boy and clapped his hands, causing the boy to look up, startled at the noise. Ben moved on to an old man's arm. The man wheezed a little as the life coursed into his body and in pain Justin clutched at his own chest. "HELP!" Cried Iris as the Wheel kept spinning. "Please, help!" Ben moved on. "What's wrong with you?" "She's got the TB in her lungs." The Ben placed his hands on the sick woman's chest. Justin wheezed in agony as his sister called to him. "Alexi!?" Again she cried for help and the wheel kept turning. Justin continued to wheeze, until with a furious roar he tore open his priests' shirt to reveal the tattoo of a gnarled oak tree upon his chest. His eyes where black spheres and he continued to roar, reaching to his own powers to try and maintain life and consciousness. His sister screamed. "SOMEONE, PLEASE!" "Go on, you can breathe now." Ben was draining the monster dry of his life with every healing. "Oh, it's gone! It's gone!" The woman cried in joy. Her life had been saved from the illness. Varlyn stormed over to Jonesy, who was operating the controls. "Stop the damn wheel!" He ordered. "Easy there pal!" Jonesy grinned and with effort tore the lever mechanism which controlled the wheel off. There was no stopping the wheel now. For his efforts, Jonesy was punched to the ground. Justin writhed and roared, with all his will reaching out. "BE STILL!" Sparks flew from the center of the wheel and it ground to a hault. Iris stared at her now more relaxed, yet dazed brother as Varlyn pulled the Wheel around so Justin was within reach. Once Justin was freed from the ride, Justin lifted a startled Varlyn from the ground by his collar and hissed to him: "See to the girl!" The terrified crowd parted around Justin as he staggered towards the Benjamin Saint John tent while Samson watched with fear before moving as fast as he could to the tent. Ben placed his hands on the head and chest of Brother Norman Balthus but was interupted. "Hawkins!" Samson cried out to him. "Whole thing's gone to the crapper kid, RUN!" "What!?" "RUN!" Justin burst into the tent and gazed upon his enemy like a hungry lion. "There you are." The terrified crowd parted so that none lay between the two Avatars. "I have come to judge thee in thine abominia-" Ben quickly began to heal Norman Balthus as a last ditch effort, causing Justin to fall to his knees in agony and be stunned for a few moments. Once able, he drew his hand scythe, the weapon which had been used to decapitate Henry Scudder, and lashed out at those in reach. "I am the Lord's left hand!" He slit a man's throat and used the victim's life to heal himself. "And have come reap what thy enemies have sown!" He killed another and his speed and strength increased back towards normal. "For I shall not spare thee neither shall I have pitty upon thee! An abomonation shall be in thy midst," He drew closer to Ben and Balthus, killing as he went. Balthus rose and placed his hands Justin's forhead and chest, believing that an evil had possessed his adopted son, rather than the truth: that his son WAS the evil. "The Power of Christ compells you!" Justin seized his father and sliced him open without barely pausing. "Behold. The Holy Evil is come!" He wrenched the weapon free from his adopted father's corpse and turned towards the direction Ben had fled. (Comment on this)
1:37 pm	Ben sat in the dark, on the back of a motorvehicle, with his arms sitting across his knees, watching the quiet house upon the hill where his enemy lived in wealth and comfort. The darkest of beings, who will end the world if given the chance. Sophie had been there- after she left the carnival, after he mother's death. Ben and Sophie were very close, to say the least, though now she was in the clutches of his enemy and was out of sight. He took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, although nicotene wasn't as calming as it usually was when he faced his looming destiny. "Y'know, the people in these towns? They're asleep. All day, at work, home. Sleep walkers. We wake them up." These had been Sophie's own words. "We wake them up." Ben agreed, accidentally aloud. Another drag, a slow exhale. He eventually rose from his sitting position and went off. (Comment on this)
1:20 pm	"He knows? That she's one of us?" An anxious Ben asked. Another meeting, in Management's old trailer. "Well, he puttin' letch on the banner on it!" Samson, gravely. Ben sighed. "Oh, shit." He paced to the opposite end of the trailer and back. "Well, y'didn't... Y'didn't see her at the house?" Samson shook his head. Jonesy piped up. "Maybe she was runnin' errands, come back after y'all left." "Nah, I put eyes good up to watch the road. She ain't been there." Samson replied. "If she's in that damn hooverville, she's a needle in a haystack, y'do know that!?" Jonesy snapped. "Jeeze, Jonesy, it ain't my fault." "I ain't sayin' it was!" "Shut up, the both a ya, I'm tryin' to think. He's... Probably got her stashed away someplace, playin' 'er like a hole card. It won't work, though. Sumbitch'll be dead 'fore he gets to play it." At last, Samson spoke. "So, whatta we do?" Ben paused, then sighed. "Forget about 'er." This was followed by astonishment: "What!?" "The hell!?" "For now. We just follow through with the plan. Once the shoutin's over, then we track 'er down, bring 'er back in. Scrape gravel." "I don't like it." Replied Samson. "Y'think I do!?" Snapped Ben. "What if she's dead?" Asked Jonesy. There was a long silence. "If she's dead, then god help them all in this valley. Every single last one of 'em." Another silence followed Ben's words. (Comment on this)
Saturday, September 24th, 2005
6:46 am	Iris Crow opened the front door to an odd assortment- a midget whom she had already met, a woman in an 'exotic' red dress with some dissorder of the hands that made them look like claws, a hermaphrodite dressed so his left side was masculine and right feminine and finally a man who walked like a dog on all fours with a collar around his neck, by disjointing his joints and walking with his limbs twisted into horrible angles. "Good day, Miss Iris. We come about the... Honararium?" Of course an establishment like a Carnival would need some payment to stay in a bible camp. Iris opened her mouth to speak, but words didn't quite form instantly. She glanced from one oddity to the other before her vocal cords began to work. "Of course!" She smiled welcomingly. "Won't you come in?" The aging woman stood aside and let in the carnies. Samson raised his hat and each carnie greeted Iris on their way in. Politely, of course. While Iris was searching for the money, the carnies sat in the living room with a tray of lemonade before them, waiting silently. The hermaphrodite helped himself to a glass of the lemonade before returning to silence. A clock ticked noisily and an old, parylised man sat in a wheel chair next to them: Brother Norman Balthus, foster father of Iris and Justin. "Poor bastard." Spoke the hermaphrodite empethatically. "Here we are." Iris returned to the room. "Two hundred and fifty dollars, the amount we agreed upon." Samson accepted the money and smiled. "Well, thank you, Ma'am." "No, thank you. You've no idea excited everyone-" She was cut off by a deeper, more assertive voice. "Iris?" Justin was in the house. The Usher. He walked into the room and paused when he saw the carnie guests. "Oh, Justin." Greeted his sister, Iris. "You didn't tell me we had guests." He said warmly, smiling to the carnies. "I didn't know you were home." Quietly responded Iris. "These are the people from the Carnival. "Are they?" He asked, smiling at his sister. "We was just, uh, thankin' your sister for her generosity." "Yes, indeed." Replied Justin, seeing the large amount of money in Samson's hand. "It's for the children." Spoke Iris, to her brother. Justin slowly turned to her. "Of course." He agreed. After an odd silence, Samson finally spoke. "I must say it is an honour to finally meet you, Reverend." Justin almost seemed shocked. "Thank you." "We've been listin' to you on the radio, an' I don't mind sayin' you been an inspiration to the lotta us. You know, in a way, you an' me in the same bu'niss." There was a slight pause. "Is that a fact?" Justin replied well naturedly. "Mr...?" "Samson's the name, yessir it is." The midget offered his hand. The front door created as a large, balding fat man toting a shot gun made his way inside and paused at the sight of the carnies. "Brother Varlyn!" Greeted Justin. This was the man responsible for Henry's kidnap. "We have visitors." The carnies turned to the new arrival. Varlyn chuckled, dragging on a cig hanging between his lips. "Well I'll be damned." Samson gazed at the man coldly. "I believe we've met on the road." He said, quite coldly. Indeed, Varlyn had caused trouble amongst the Carnival in his search for Ben and Henry. Varlyn grinned down at the midget and removed his firearm from his shoulder. "You remember Sabina?" He asked, turning to the Scorpion Woman, who's hands were much like claws. "From the Daily Brother's Circus?" Unfortunately, Varlyn had been responsible for the burning down of the Daily Brother's Circus and the murder of the Daily Brother's. Samson turned to Iris and Justin. "Recently defunct." "Oh, really? Well that's too bad. I rather enjoyed them." Replied Varlyn, toying with the carnies. "My goodness." Justin broke in. "You know each other. What an amazing coincidence!" Justin smiled. "Small world." Samson assented. "Yes, getting smaller all the time. In fact, we have a maid that you migth be aquainted with. Lovely girl. Named Sofie?" Samson, knowing the importance of his answer, quickly lied. "Doesn't ring a bell." He was a tallented liar. "Well, I hate to run, but we've got a show to put on." Samson took his hat off and turned to Iris. "Much obliged, Ma'am." As the carnies went to leave, Samson stopped them. "Oh, almost forgot. Raulo?" The disjointed man turned to Samson. "Two free tickets to ride Collossus, the biggest and the best travellin' Ferris Wheel on any circuit west of the Paycos. Reverend?" Raulo lumbered over with the two tickets in his mouth. "We'd be honoured if you an' Miss Iris would give it a whirl." The midget said, with enthusiasm. "I couldn't possibly-" Iris began to speak. "Come now, Iris. It's just a child's ride." Justin turned to his guests. "My sister has a dread fear of heights. Of course, I would..." He reached down to take the tickets, but Samson's sharp call of "Raulo!" prevented this. The man returned to Samson's side. Off came the hat. "My apologies, Miss Iris," Spoke Samson, "I did not mean to upset you. Good day, Reverend." And off they went. "Samson, what the hell are ya doin'?" Questioned Sabina, once they were out of the house and hearing range. "He was about to take them tickets." "Well I just made sure he insist on it." "And how's that?" "Snips and snails, my dear, snips and snails." Replied Samson cleverly, ending the conversation. (Comment on this)
Monday, June 20th, 2005
7:44 am	Rolling thunder, flashes of lightning in a cornfield that seems to simply go on forever. A man, running, fleeing as it were. Stumbling, glancing backwards to try and glimpse the position of his persuer. He stumbles, scrambling to not fall and to keep fleeing. Harsh, monstrous breath. The slow, heavy footsteps of a being not human. A sudden flash, change of scenery. Henry's terrible black eyes, breaking free and attacking Smith with terrible madness. Smith screams and screams and screams as Henry's hands plunge into his flesh, fingers curling around his organs and pulling them free from his body. The organs are tossed aside, as Henry moves to rip more out. A change: The water trough, were Ben sees Henry's head just below the surface. Face twisted in mid-scream. Sofie, holding a card- the Ten of Swords. Ben turns, to see the Preacher- Brother Justin Crowe, swinging a scythe towards Ben's body. Ben screams, blue blood spillling from the wound. His legs give out, he collapses. The Preacher keeps coming- his scythe cuts Ben into peices, floating in a stream of blue blood. And then Ben wakes up. (Comment on this)
Monday, June 13th, 2005
7:24 pm	The Ferris Wheel grinded as a seat came round, halting at the bottom with the flick of a lever. Jonesy opened the seat and turned to face the small gathering before him. "Welcome aboard, Brother Justin." Samson clambered up onto the machine, both he and Jonesy smiling somewhat devilishly. "Jonesy locks him in, fires her up and spins him 'round. Meanwhile, you commence to healin'. You do to that Preacher just what you done to that woman." Ben watched and listened, weighing up the plan. "Tap him dry." He added, nodding. "He's trapped in there. Got no place to go!" Samson said, grinning. Libby, who was standing next to Hawkins, spoke, walking around to join her husband Jonesy. "Poor Brother Justin. Musta had a bad ticker or somethin'." Samson nodded, still smiling. "Not a mark on him." This plan meant The Preacher could be destroyed without any harm to anybody else. The world would be saved and everyone could go on with their lives, all in one fell swoop. "Natural causes!" "Oh, they'll be weapin' and wailin', poundin' their chests and whatnot. One thing they won't be doin' is blamin' us." Jonesy spoke: "Pack it up, shake dust, free as you please." Ben nodded. "It might work." "Kid, it's perfection." Samson said proudly. "There's still Sofie." Jonesy added. "We'll find her, you can mark it. This setup is neat as a bandbox." Samson turned to Ben. "Agreed?" "What if The Preacher don't wanna ride?" Ben asked. Samson nodded, knowingly. "You leave that one to me, kid." (Comment on this)
7:14 pm	"Think about it, kid. Million rubes followin' that clown. On what? Buncha pretty words. Meanwhile you the real deal. When they see what you can do, they'll flock to ya." Samson, who had been pacing before Ben who was seated on a barrel, turned to face Ben as the realisation struck him. "Just like in Tipton." Ben listened silently up until now. "The Healin' Tent?" "Damn right! Benjamin St. John! ... Beat that black-hearted bastard at his own game. Show them rollers what's what!" Ben waited a few moments before he replied. "You want to do that with a buncha fake healin's?" "Who said anything about fake?" Samson replied. Ben almost scoffed. He glanced to his left, then looked back at Samson. "I can't do that." "Yes you can. I seen what you done. Not just with Jonesy- With that kid, after the Ferris Wheel collapsed." "You seen how it worked?" "I seen he was deader'n' dillinger. His Momma beggin' for his life. An' you just... Looked at him," Samson said, obviously amazed by what he had seen. "An' he come back." "That ain't what you saw." "The hell it ain't." "I took that woman's life, I gave it to her son." Samson turned and stared at Ben for a moment. "Difference does that make?" "Makes all the difference in the world! I can't just conjure up a healin' from scratch, it don't work that way. All I do is move life." As he spoke, Samson watched him intently, studying him and what he was saying, quickly working to understand the concepts being laid out before him. "Move it from one body to another." "So. You heal someone?" Samson made a gesture as if he was laying his hands upon someone. "I gotta hurt someone else." A long silence fell between the two. (Comment on this)
Thursday, April 28th, 2005
4:35 pm	"I had him dead to rights!" A frustrated Ben said, pacing within Management's old trailer. "There was half a dozen goons, woulda caught 'im on the porch." Jonesy explained. "I had him!" Ben protested. "Listen, kid, it ain't just the Preacher." Samson spoke. Ben continued to pace. "There's a whole bunch of 'em- not just ones totin' shotguns. You kill him, they're likely to go ape!" Ben paused. "That ain't my problem." "Well it is if they set on you!" Samson responded. Samson, the savvy, intelligent and diminutive leader of the carnival. "And they will. Like a pack of hungry dogs." "I don't care!" Ben said, angrily. "As long as he's dead!" There was a pause before anyone spoke. Suddenly, Samson scoffed. "What is it with you people?" Ben paused. "Whaddyou mean?" He asked. "You know what I mean! Management, you, Jesus, John the Baptist- the whole buncha ya! All fired up to throw your lives away!" "They did what they had to do." Responded Ben. "Hogwash!" Again scoffed Samson. "You think the Lord had died t'make his point? What if when they said 'Come on down from that cross!' Jesus come on down an' spit right in their eye! Now what harm'd thatta done?" "That's about the dumbest thing I ever heard." Ben responded almost dryly. "No it ain't." Replied Samson. "The dumbest thing is diein' when you ain't gotta. Diein' cause you're piss poor at livin'!" Ben shook his head. "That ain't true." "It is true and you know it!" Retorted Samson. "And I'll tell you somethin' else's true: When it comes to livin', diein's the easy part." Ben was silent, then took a few steps towards the door. Jonesy, who had been standing back and listening in silence, finally spoke. "What about Sofie?" Ben turned. "What about her?" He asked, almost darkly. "Even if you did manage to kill 'im, whaddaya suppose'd happen then? They'd set on ya an' she'd be in the thick of it, tryin' to stop 'em." Jonesy explained. "You ain't seen 'er. She's all full-up and goo-goo eyed with the Lord!" Ben said. "She's still one of us." Jonesy replied. "No she ain't! No, she's livin' in his house! She was baptised by the sumbitch! He called her his 'treasure'!" Ben paused. "His god damn treasure." "Well, I don't care what he called her. I know that girl since she was knee-high an' I know what she'd do." Samson said. "And it ain't standin' by watchin' while her own gets killed." Ben shook his head. Samson went on. "Not without diein' herself to stop it." Ben listened in silence, staring at the floor. He glanced up at the others. "He's right, kid." Jonesy added. They stared at Ben for a moment before Samson gathered his walking stick from the bench and beconed the other two. "Come on." The two of them started to move towards the door. "What about his brace?" Ben asked, pointing to Jonesy. "No need for that." Samson explained. "They already know." Ben slowly followed the two out into the sunlight and paused to see the whole carnival gathered around the trailer, whispering to each other, watching him intently. As Ben moved towards them with Jonesy leading, they parted to let him through but moved to speak with Ben. Rita Sue, wife of Stumpy Dreifuss and a burlesque dancer like her daughter Libby, took Ben's hands in her own. "A lot of us... We was wrong about you." She paused. Ben glanced at the rest of the carnival for a moment. "After what you did for Jones." She paused. "You're a good boy, Ben Hawkins." She stepped forwards and kissed him on the cheek, then stood aside so that he might continue. Jonesy lead. As Ben passed people, they patted him on the back- Ruthie kissed him on the cheek. Away from the main crowd, in the shade, Lila the Bearded Lady and a few of the Rousties watched in silence. "That look like justice to you?" She said indignantly. The Roustie next to her, Burly, turned and stared at her for a moment before speaking. "Why don't you just dry up." He said, standing and walking away. Almost sulkily, Lila continued to watch the proceedings. (Comment on this)
Monday, April 25th, 2005
7:42 am	Night had fallen yet the strange weather continued. Thunder and lightning roared throughout the valley, illuminating the world in sudden flashes of light. It was a huge storm, entirely without rain. One of the guard's horses became spooked and its rider called for help as it took off, leaving just one person wandering the perimeter of the house. Ben Hawkins crouched, hidden in the shadows, waiting to seize an opportunity. Sofie stood outside, on the porch, in silence. As Ben moved further towards the side of the house, always remaining in the shadows, another figure came out. "I was hoping I'd find you out here." It was Justin. "Is there something you need?" Sofie asked. "No, no, not at all." Just in said, coming closer to stand next to Sofie. "Spectacular." Justin said, watching the furious storm. He moved and sat himself on a swinging bench, suspended from the roof. "Join me." He said, indicating the spot next to him on the seat. "Where's your sister, Iris?" Sofie asked. Ben slowly crept forwards, sticking to the shadows, to the steps of the porch. They were facing away from him so getting there wasn't too hard. He crept to the left hand side of the stairs, waiting there to make the next move. "I've been watching you, Sofie." "You have?" "Yes. I have." Justin said, softly. "There's something very special about you... Intuitive understanding." Ben drew the knife. "But I fe-..." Justin's eyes closed and he sagged forwards slightly in his seat. This had happened every time the knife was drawn. "Are you alright?" Sofie asked, clearly concerned. Complete darkness took hold, only illuminated by brief flashes of lightning. Even the house lights flickered, then faded into darkness. When the light of the house returned, he put his arm across the back of the seat and turned to face Sofie. "But I feel you haven't quite surrendered to the call. There's still some doubt within you. Sofie..." Justin's voice became soft, almost crooning. "You are so full of light... In the Bible, women like you are called the Handmaidens of Christ." Justin was gently stroking Sofie's back, his hand creeping forwards to her shoulder. Justin's eyes were closed and his voice was soft. Shadows took hold again and again, being dispelled briefly by flashes of lightning or as the light of the house again took hold. "My Handmaidens, I will pour out in the days of my Spirit and they will prophisise." Sofie listened in silence, then eventually spoke. "What do you want?" Justin shifted a little. "I want you to be happy." Sofie's brows furrowed slightly. Ben crept forwards as Justin continued. "I want you to be a part of the family." Justin was now stroking her hair. "I want you to never again be alone or afraid." He moved his head to one side of hers and whispered. "I see what you are." He moved, pressing his lips to Sofie's. Ben's blood was boiling. He loved Sofie and this monster was ravaging her lips. Hawkins started to stalk towards the stairs. Sofie pulled away. "I'm sorry. I can't." She was clearly upset. She stood to go inside and Justin rose after her, taking a hold of her arm. Ben was half way up the stairs, ready to charge forwards. Now was the perfect time. Suddenly, a figure sped up to Hawkins and pulled him off the stairs into the shadows. "Don't. It's suicide!" It was Jonesy. Ben was still full of rage. "I don't care." He tried to free himself from Jonesy. He had to do it now! Now or never! A guard came passed them. "Now isn't the time." Jonesy said, holding Ben down. "Sofie can take care of herself." Ben was taking deep, furious breaths, his eyes screwed shut. Sofie was silent for a moment, then hissed: "Let go. You're hurting me." Justin released her. Sofie walked back inside, closing the screen door behind her. The preacher then moved to the edge of the porch, still watching the storm. The man on horseback came passed and paused before Justin. "Good evening." He nodded a greeting to Justin, then moved on. Justin walked inside. Ben and Jonesy ran from the house, back into the shadows and back down the hill. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, April 20th, 2005
8:45 am	Sofie wandered through the camp, sort of towards the house on the hill but at the same time she was searching it for someone she knew. As she passed by a wooden trailer, someone reached out and took her by the wrist. "Hey." He whispered, pulling her towards his hiding spot as he glanced about to make sure they wouldn't be seen. "Oh my God, it was you!" She whispered back in excitement, embracing him. He put his arms around her and hugged back. "How did you find me?" She asked. "I didn't come for you." Ben said, still hugging her tight. Sofie released him and took a step backwards and Ben ran a hand down her face. He'd missed her. A slight silence came between them. "Then why are you here?" She asked, a little curiously and perhaps a little hurt. "This ain't a good place for you, Sof." Ben said, shaking his head and glancing about to make sure no one was watching. "What are you talking about?" "The Preacher." Ben said, almost urging. He glanced over his shoulder, again making sure no one was watching. "Listen. The Preacher, he's evil." Sofie didn't believe him. "Evil?" She asked a little incredulously. "Yeah." "No." She shook her head. "You don't know him, Ben." Ben knew what Sofie didn't and couldn't believe. "I seen him in my dreams. I know who he is." "From your dreams?" Sofie asked, again incredulously. She gave a small smile, still not believing Ben. Why should she? This was madness he was talking about. "That's crazy. Brother Justin is a great man. He's changed my life." Ben shook his head, getting just a little desperate. He loved Sofie and he knew this place spelt danger. "When I left the Carnival, I was empty. I had nothing. Now because of him, I have something to hold onto." "He's not who you think he is." Ben urged. She again shook her head in disbelief. "Why did you come here?" Ben was silent. "Leave me alone." She started to walk away and Ben pursued. "I can't just leave you here!" She turned. "I don't need you to protect me from the best thing that ever happened to me." "His name is Alexi Belyakov. He's a Russian. He killed my father and he aims to kill me, too." Sofie shook her heads and tears began to well up in her eyes. She sniffed. "I don't believe you." "Sofie." Ben called after her as she turned and moved towards the hill upon which the house stood. "Sofie!" She didn't turn. She kept walking. (Comment on this)
8:26 am	"I say unto thee, repent and be Baptised so that ye may be forgiven and washed of thine unclean spirit!" Everyone raised theirs hands and cheered when the woman was lowered into the river. They held hands and formed a semicircle, spreading out from one point of the bank and ending at another. All dressed in the same pure white garment, for Brother Justin was Baptising today. "Arise and rejoice! For now you are one of the Holy Brethren!" Ben stood in line behind a man fanning himself with his hat, staring at the goings on further down the bank. It would be a cleansing and powerful moment for all those being baptised, for they didn't know who was washing them. This was probably a moment of closeness and community unlike anything these people had experienced. Ben simply watched, dressed like one of them but not intending to be submerged. "Brother Varlyn, are you prepared to accept redemption?" Justin put both his hands on Varlyn's shoulders. Varlyn the criminal and murderer, who had kidnapped Henry Scudder and drugged him. "To accept the Saviour into your life?" Varlyn nodded. "Then I say unto thee, repent and be Baptised," Ben saw the young woman next in line and his blood ran cold. "So that ye may be forgiven and washed of thine unclean spirit!" They cheered as Varlyn was submerged then pulled back up. Varlyn turned and hugged Justin tight, almost weeping. "Rise and rejoice! You have been born anew so that you may enter the kingdom of Heaven. You are one of the Holy Breathren." Ben's gaze turned back over his shoulder as he slowly drew his father's knife, the handle concealed by the long and drooping sleeves but the blade sticking out clean and shiny. Brother Justin paused for a moment as nausea swept over him and his eyes rolled backwards. He swayed for a moment as if to collapse before someone rushed forwards to hold him. "Are you alright, Brother?" Justin paused and took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine." He said quietly and the man went back into the circle. Justin turned to his left and saw the next in line. "Sofie." He said quietly, not at all the same volume as he had with the other converts. "Are you in need of the Saviour?" She was silent for just a moment. "I am." Brother Justin stood so close to her that their faces were only a ten or twenty centimetres apart. He was also holding her hands. "Then I say unto you, repent and be Baptised," He turned back to the others and Sofie did so too. "So that you may be forgiven and washed of thine unclean spirit!" Sofie watched the people standing on the bank and saw someone she didn't expect. Ben Hawkins? He looked back at her and gave a small shake of his head. Justin put his hand on her face, holding her mouth and nose shut and submerged her into the water. All she could see was Justin's face, twisted by the ripples of the water. As he pulled her back up she gasped for air and scanned the bank, hoping that Ben was still there. He was gone. "Arise and rejoice!" The people were clapping and cheering. "This is Sofie, one of the most treasured of my faithful." People suddenly turend and pointed at something floating down the river as it quickly got their attention. "She was asleep, and we woke her up!" A body, face-up, came floating down the river. People turned and stopped clapping. "Amen." The buzz of the people around him caused Justin to turn and see. People began to flee from the water onto the bank in horror. Justin waded out into the water to gather the body as it washed by. It was a woman although it was hard to tell. She was bloated as her body began to decompose and a black muck filled her mouth. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 19th, 2005
4:10 pm	Sneaking Ben wandered into the house, closing the screen door as quietly as physically possible. Every step was somewhat deliberate as he attempted to sneak through the halls of the large house. He moved passed numerous pictures framed on the walls, glancing about to make sure he was going to be caught. As he passed an open door, he paused by the edge, realising that it was occupied. An elderly man, wheel-chair bound, was sitting, staring out the window. The man slowly and silently turned and saw Ben, causing the young man to panic and silently stand in the one place in terror. Ben's mouth was open slightly. Ben was panicking- he could NOT be seen. This would ruin everything. He needs to find and kill the Preacher. The old man will call for someone and Hawkins'll be found and killed. The old man was silent, staring at Ben with the very very slightest furrowing of his brow. Suddenly, he tilted his head upwards and to the left slightly, flicking his eyes in the general direction of the stairs further down the corridor. Ben turned slightly and saw the stairs. The old man turned back slowly and returned to staring at the world outside. Ben slowly crept up the stairs, each step causing the near-ancient wood to creak. His eyes stared upwards into the upper floor, trying to see if he was in danger of being caught. He recoiled slightly, pulling back down the stairs just a little when he heard a door slam shut. He lifted his leg, pulled up his trousers a little and pulled his father's knife from its hiding place, blade down Ben's sock. Ben pressed himself to the wall, his chest heaving as adrenaline started to take hold in his veins. He crept upstairs, knife at the ready, as he rounded the and turned another left. He paused at the junction of the corridor he was in and the next one, carefully staring down the path he was going to take. He moved into it, quickly glancing behind him to make sure no one was there. He approached a closed door and opened it as quietly as possible, although the door had other plans and creaked loudly. Ben peeked his head into the room, half-hoping that Brother Justin wasn't there. He was worried about the combat that was soon to come, if it came to that. With a backwards glance, he moved into the next room to find it empty. However, on the floor was a shard of a broken mirror, which Ben picked up and stared at. Suddenly, a black shadowy figured moved passed the entrance to the room, causing Ben to freeze for a moment before turning slowly and stalking the figure down the corridor, into just another empty room. However, this was a bedroom judging by the bed. The room was adorned with the usual furniture- chest of draws, a single drawer with an oval mirror perched upon it and a cupboard. Seeing that Justin was no-where to be found, Ben placed his father's knife in his jacket pocket and slowly lifted a leather-bound book on the drawer. An open bible sat next to it. "What are you doing here, young man?" Came a woman's voice. Ben turned in surprise to see Iris Crowe, sister of Brother Justin, with a basket of washing in her arms. "What is that?" She asked, staring at the hatchet poking out the top of the waist of his pants. "Told me you needed firewood. Didn't know where you wanted it." He said as he pulled out the hatchet. "Put that down." Came Iris' cold reply. She was a smart woman, she wasn't buying it. Ben turned slightly and placed it next to the Bible on the nearby drawer. Iris took a few steps closer, staring into Ben's eyes. "There's no fireplace up here." "No, Ma'am." Ben agreed, shaking his head slightly. "Have you been Baptised, yet?" She asked, after a pause. "No Ma'am." "My brother is Baptising converts down at the pond today." Ben turned to pick up the hatchet. "Leave it." She ordered. Ben paused, glanced at the hatchet, then walked away as Iris watched carefully. (Comment on this)
Friday, April 15th, 2005
6:15 pm	"I don't like it. Back home, sky like that? We'd be bringin' in the animals." Commented one of the multitude of security stationed around the hill upon which the Crowes' house was located. "They ain't got twisters in California, stagnut." Replied his partner, as a few thunderous groans echoed through the late afternoon sky that was strangely discoloured into an orange, pinkish reddish mish mash that obviously wasn't good news. Ben Hawkins carried a small pile of wood in his arms, which he had taken from the back of the motor vehicle before it pulled off back down the road into the valley. He paused to watch it for just a moment before turning and walking towards the two security men. "Well, don't look right." Was the final comment from the first of the guards. "Hold up- whatchu got there?" Asked the same guard as he grabbed his shotgun and moved to stop Ben. "Firewood. Told me to bring it on up." Explained Ben. "Who?" The second guard, similarly armed, joined them. "Who told you to bring it on up?" He asked suspiciously. "A feller down there." Ben motioned with his head back down in the valley. "Acts like he's top man." "A red haired guy?" "Yeah." The first guard turned to comment to the second. "That's Sanders. Thinks he's boss." "Told me to stack it in the wood box." Ben attempted to keep moving but the second of the guards moved to stop him. "Everyone gotta get checked. Well," He glanced at the first. "Check him." And he did so. Having found no weapons, the first motioned for Ben to move along. "Alright- just hurry it up." Ben moved along, towards the house. Once there, he walked along the porch to the side door and deposited the wood into a bucket, next to the rest of the firewood. Making sure the security force wasn't watching, he retrieved from the middle of the pile his father's- Henry Scudder's- knife and the hatchet amongst the firewood on the vehicle he hitched a ride with. He put the hatchet in the back of his overalls and checked that no one was watching before placing the knife in his boot, handle up, hidden by the leg of his overalls. He opened to wooden door as quietly as possible and moved inside. When he glanced back to carefully closed the door, he realised it wasn't the one that he had opened. It was Milliways' front door. He looked forwards, to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks. He was in Milliways. (Comment on this)