--------------Part 1--------------

Red and white lights flash around the graveyard. The ambulance whistles unpleasantly, as the police sit by, questioning each and every one of the guests. All they ask is, "What did you see?"

Their replies were all the same, "It was different. It was not natural. It was God, sending Theresa to the depths of hell. She must have sinned. She must have angered Him."

In the ambulance lay Deacon, holding a thin blanket over himself. "What happened here? Why did they call the police?" Asks the grumpy sheriff of Braukensberg, sitting next to him. He looks at Deacon in confusion, and... pity? "I blacked out and woke up naked."

The sheriff's hair is grey, tied in a ponytail. His eyes hide behind a set of dark brown Ray-Bans. Over a sheriff's uniform, he wears a black coat. It looks like a thin gown. Under his large, crooked nose, is a moustache as wide as a banana, it goes all the way down to his chin. There is a stupid amount of alcohol in his breath.

He puts a hand on Deacon's shoulder. After a few short seconds, he slides it off and says, "He's running a fever. Get him checked out at the Braukensberg City Central Hospital. I will be right back."

Meanwhile, Deacon falls into a deep slumber.

Deacon is awoken by the sharp burning of light in his eyes. He opens them to find a doctor flashing a light into the eye while holding his eyelid open.

"Oh. And, he is up." Says the doctor.

"I will take it from here." Says a raspy voice from behind the doctor. He signals the nurse to leave with him. So, she does.

It's the Sheriff. "Sit still kid. No need to panic. My name is Stan Burley. And you are Deacon Arculeptone?"

Deacon takes a deep breath and nods.

He is in a hospital room. White walls, white floor, white sheets, white robes, and a brightly lit room from the orange evening sun. The rays of sunlight sprinkle through the windows, lighting up the side of Stan, who is still wearing his Ray-Bans. Deacon hates people that wear sunglasses indoors. They look like douches. But Stan is a bit different. It suits him to an extent, like it is not supposed to.

"You are being discharged, son." He says with his raspy voice. "But I asked them to leave you for an extra 10 minutes. I wanted to talk. I wanted you to talk. Not about the incident at the graveyard. No, no. About you and your life."

"Well, let-let's see..." Continues Deacon, "Mr. Burley-..."

"-Stan. You can call me Stan." Stan interrupts.

"Alright, Stan, I am just an ordinary kid who woke up into the wrong day. I was supposed to have a job interview for an aerospace engineer. Instead, mom died... How long was I here?"

"A day." Stan replies.

"Yup, so, mom died the day before yesterday. I went to the funeral and blacked out. I woke up naked, standing up." Deacon says.

Silence follows, and trails on for about an awkward minute.

"okay then... I will take you word for it." Says Stan.

He walks away from the bed, and confidently walks to the door. He has no doubts. For some reason, he fully trusts Deacon's answer without a question in mind.

"We're done, doc." Deacon hears.

The doctor comes in and takes a look at his vitals. "You're good to go, Mr. Arculeptone. And damn, is that a good name. I'd love to be called that." He says.

Deacon smiles mildly.

A minute later, Deacon enters the washroom. He stares into the mirror, holding a pile of brand new clothes. Stan must have bought them for him.

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He hears a phone ring outside the door. It's Stan's phone. He hears him pick up. A few seconds of silence later, he hears, "Ok... try some new tactics to get answers out of him. Like... hmm... Ah yes – Threaten to shove a taser up his ass. That oughta do it."

A few more seconds of silence pass. "Haha yes. I will be back in a while. Try not to shove that taser by the time I am there. I will make a pit stop first. Expect me to be a bit late."

Deacon turns on the tap, and puts his hands in the water. He begins rubbing his fingers together to feel a weirdly soft, slippery texture on his skin. He looks down to see that not a single string of arm hair was left. His skin felt like wax. He rubs water over his face, and zooms into the mirror, looking into his now purple eyes. "How is this possible?" His brain asks itself. He moves his chin-long hair to the side and messily tucks them behind his ears. He dresses up and leaves.

"Need a ride?" Asks Stan, leant up against a wall. "I would appreciate that a lot. I am not exactly fit to drive. Dad won't come." Deacon replies.

"Why not?" Asks Stan.

"I-I just know." Says Deacon.

"You did this." He suddenly hears those words whisper over his shoulder.

He jolts his head in that direction just to see a wall. "You okay?" Asks Stan, now standing up straight, with a puzzled look on his face.

"Yeah, let-um... let's go." Deacon replies while scanning the wall.

They make their way to the billing counter. Their doctor mutters some technical words that both Deacon and Stan are oblivious to, to the cashier. She looks over to Deacon and says, "That will be twelve-hundred dollars, sir. Please sign here."

Deacon does so. He also whispers under his own breath, "There goes my car."

Stan hears him. He takes the paper from Deacon and crosses out his signature. He puts his own signature in instead, and pulls out his wallet. "Stan, no. You don't have to." Deacon intervenes.

"I take it you need your car later on." Stan replies to that.

He hands his debit card in and makes the payment. "My job pays enough for a family, but I don't have one."

"Well, I will pay you back as soon as I scrounge up that cash." Deacon says, with a slight guilt tinting his skin to a cute pink.

"Oh... Shit. Take a seat." Stan sighs with a finger pointed to the outside. The noon sky turns to a dark evening sky. It is all gone grey, with clouds almost black.

Expecting rain to crash down on them, Deacon agrees and takes a seat. He feels rather safe around Stan. It's almost like he has a guardian angel by his side. Almost like he has a father that does not blame him for anything.

The square TV turns on. "For a general hospital, this is pretty pathetic. You know, my grandma's grandma's great grandma would love this." Points out Stan.

Deacon stares off into the room. He is surrounded by white walls, a low white roof and a light grey floor. It's a lot busier today. People with fevers walk through. The sun is just setting, splashing the sky in navy-blue.

Nurses scramble to get patients in and out as fast as possible. Doctors run around with stethoscopes and lollipop sticks. They check the pulse and the throats of each of the patients in the waiting area itself.

The pathetic romantic series on the TV changes to a black screen. The sudden void in sound draws the eyes of people in the room.

"Emergency Announcement." It reads in white, with the speakers buzzing.

The whole room falls into a state of silence. The screen then shifts to an old woman dressed up formally, standing in front of a white wall, with a face not so thrilled. She grabs a mic and says, "Dear residents of Braukensberg, throughout the remainder of this announcement, please remain calm. To clarify, this is not a drill. The city is under lockdown as we speak. Anyone in the streets, please get inside a building. And anyone inside a building, please lock your doors when the sirens begin ringing. Do not open the doors for anyone. I repeat. Do not open the doors for anyone after you close them. As of now, the admins of W.H.O only disclosed this information. Do not leave your building for any reason. May God bless you and protect you."

The TV then shuts off. A low-pitched rumble of whispering rises from the silent room's now worried patients, sending shivers down everyone's spine. Deacon gets up and stands guard at the glass door, looking out and hearing for the alarm. Stan does so too.

The rain gets louder and louder. No one passes the hospital. Two heavy office tables screech in from behind them. "We don't have locks, so when the siren goes off, all we can do is barricade the doors with these." Says the janitor pushing one of the tables.

Stan nods and begins looking out. But the whispering is too loud for them to hear outside. "We need silence!" Deacon exclaims to the room. No one hears his voice. "Shut up!" Shouts Stan, effectively. The room immediately goes quiet.

Now they listen to the outside. The smell of rain seeps in through the gaps in the doors. All they hear in the moment is rain.

Then, piercing right through the rain and mist, comes a painfully loud tsunami alarm. Then, another one goes off. That's when they ram the tables into place and step back.

The TV suddenly turns back on. This time, with a man terrified for his life, standing in the rain while clutching a mic and looking around in paranoia.

"They are killing anyone who leaves the buildings. Please. Whatever you do, STAY INSIDE! It is ground zero! It is ground-fucking-zero!" He screams into the mic.

Suddenly, a red laser points at his forehead and a bullet pierces through his head, coming out the other side, taking out a string of what is supposed to be his brain, along with a chunk of his skull and a gloopy spray of blood. The camera shakes, and then it is thrashed around, as the cameraman tries to escape. But it falls down as soon as another gunshot is heard by the mic, and a thick stream of blood carrying little chunks of meat flows from the bottom of the screen, filling in every crack in the asphalt.

Suddenly, the TV goes out with a buzz and a "NO SIGNAL" message displays.

Silence is now the only sound.