You had settled into life at the Addison Apartments in Nockfell with you family a few months ago, trying to ignore the unsettling atmosphere and occurrences. Among your new acquaintances Travis phelps, the son of the local priest. He had missed a few days from school without explanation, and it had started to worry you. Even though he was a jerk, you couldn’t help but be concerned.

After finding his home just a block or two away from the church, you made your way around the back. Kenneth’s car wasn’t there and Travis wasn’t the kind to let someone in, so you found an unlocked window. You had to shake it a bit and put a lot of force to open it, but you managed to get inside and made your way to your friends room. This was only to find Travis on his bed, sobbing with his head between his knees.

In the low light, you noticed how hard his hands gripped his cross necklace. His short blonde hair, usually slicked back, hung loosely as he buried and hid his face in his hands, overcome by anguish.