My Wonderful Little Sister: Love's Twilight Is Its Brightest Hour

Story by ArcticWolf451 on SoFurry

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Disclaimer: You know the drill the by now...either be 18 or older to read this or get out. ...still here? Well, I admire your persistence. Okay, you can stay, but I'm NOT responsible if your mom catches you on here...or dad if your mom is dead or something. If both parents are dead then don't sweat it....although come to think of it that is god awfully depressing, and you have my pity (something not easily earned in this world). So, read on at your own risk. Just check the tags for what may or may not be in the following paragraphs. Also, all characters belong to me Casonova, so don't get any ideas about doing a fanfic without my permish...m'kay? I think we understand each other now, so read on! cough Pervert! ;D Hey! Who threw that?  Panama City - 6:08 P.M. Shortly after coming to, I noticed a couple of strange things. One, my wounds had miraculously healed into nothing but bruises or mild scars. It was almost as if I'd never been mowed down in the first place. The second thing was that somehow I was still holding Elsie's sickle despite now being alive. For a moment I wondered if I actually was, but the fact that I could barely stand up combined with the number of startled civilians now running away due to a corpse suddenly climbing back from the dead told me that this was indeed the land of the living. Strangely, I couldn't actually drop the sickle either. When I released it, it simply flew back into whichever paw was closer as if they were connected by magnets. I figured I could worry about getting through airport security later; right now I needed to grab Katie and rescue her pals before Elsie could do anything to expedite their demise. "Katie, Katie you okay?" I asked while shaking her limp form. "Ugh, y-yeah, I'm fine," she groaned before going through a similar process I did, including vomiting all over herself. "Eewww, pffbleeh! Why does coming back from the dead hurt so much this time?" "Probably because last time you hadn't broken every bone in your body," I suggested while helping her to stand up. "C'mon, we've got to hurry and get to the TV station before anything happens to your friends." "What time is it anyway, how do we know we're not too late?" Katie asked me as I scavenged a couple of PT-92s off a pair of dead rebels and took their extra magazines. "Dunno," I answered truthfully while racking the slide on one of the pistols before giving it to Katie, "But we've got to at least try to save them, right?" "Uhh...no duh. But maybe you should use the guns, those aren't really my forte...and where'd you get that sickle?" "Can't drop it." "What?" she remarked while cocking her head in confusion. "Look, I can't explain why I can't drop it, all I know is that it helped get us here, so maybe it can help us get to your friends," I replied. She nodded and took my left wrist since my paws either had a gun or sickle blade in them. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and pictured myself with one of the captives, only to find myself still standing on the sidewalk like a moron. "Damn it, looks like we're walking," I sighed. "You've got to be kidding me," Katie huffed at the sickle...or me, not really sure. "I guess this thing's only magic...well cool magic, when we're not in the land of the living," I guessed while taking off towards the TV studio. Fortunately for me, Elsie had let it slip as to just where the hostages were being held. Mr. Baker had made me study a map of the surrounding area, and the TV studio had caught my eye if only because it had the magic letters "TV" in the title. I'm a dude, sue me. From what I could guess, the hostages were probably being kept in front of cameras broadcasting live to all the local networks and the internet, thus acting as a deterrent against anyone attempting to intervene in the revolution. Naturally, we'd attempt a rescue, and if what Elsie said was true, that rescue would end with all the hostages face down in a pool of their own blood. The rebels would see a rescue force coming from a mile away and could prosecute the hostages in seconds. However, if they saw only a pair of beat up kids coming at them, they'd likely think they could stop us before needing to execute any of their precious human shields. At least that was the theory...

Little did the two Blackmon siblings know that their story was coming to a close. The next hour of their lives would also be one of the most intense, even more so than what they'd been through together the past few days, weeks, even years. It would require an ultimate sacrifice for everything to end well, and even then someone would still have to die. Kyle had been mulling over what to do about Elsie as he and Katie made their way up the street to the studio, and even as he approached the shattered glass doors he still did not know what to do. For now, his instincts kicked in and he focused on getting Katie's friends out alive. Naturally, the doors were guarded by the rebels who had barricaded themselves behind the receptionist's desk in the lobby. The pair of ocelots waiting with AK-74s were quite surprised however when they were confronted with a couple of young wolves rather than the police. "Eh! Who the fuck are you two?" one of the rebels challenged in heavily accented English. Having expected to at least meet one rebel outside the studio, Kyle was slightly caught off guard by the sudden appearance of two gun toting thugs standing a mere twenty feet before him. His eyes caught the glint of a rifle barrel as it came over the desk, and without hesitation he nudged Katie with his shoulder to knock her down while bringing up his gun in a lightning quick draw. BLAM BLAM BLAM! Kyle squeezed off three shots into the first rebel's chest and shoulders as he strafed to side and slid onto his side on the slick tile floor. A salvo of bullets narrowly missed him as they passed overhead before ricocheting off the floor and into the ceiling length windows that surrounded the building's many floors. Kyle whipped his gun's sights to the second rebel and fired a shot clean through the ocelot's throat. Time seemed to slow down, and for a brief second Kyle saw the bullet leave a thin, clear vapor trail through the air before punching a massive hole in the rebel's neck and spraying beads of blood and saliva all over the desk in front of him. Whoa...what the hell was that? Kyle thought to himself as he stood up and shook his head. Offering her his wrist, Kyle helped Katie back up as she glimpsed at the two dead rebels. She quickly turned her eyes away and retched, her mind trying to block out the carnage she'd just witnessed. "Katie, you okay?" "Y-yeah, I'll be f-fine," she choked as she tried to swallow a lump in her throat. "We gotta move, they'll have heard the shots and start getting jumpy," he replied as he lead the way to the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. "We'll start on number ten and work our way down." Katie nodded but said nothing as she tried to control her breathing, her mind only now grasping just how real and how deadly her situation had become. DING! Kyle pushed Katie back against the side wall as the doors opened to a room filled with flattened cubicles and nearly a dozen rebels all looking to see who their uninvited guests were. "Oh shit!" "Qué carajo?!" a rebel jaguar spat as he rushed to shoulder his gun. In an instant the room was filled with a chorus of gunfire; bullets impacting and bouncing every which way like a swarm of pissed off hornets. Kyle's ears went deaf, only the dull ring of tinnitus remained as he crouched next to the elevator's control panel while the wall behind him was torn to shreds. A few bullets bounced and grazed his shoulders and legs, their hot sting taunting him as he wondered when that one lucky round would find its way into his heart. Fangs barred, he leapt forth around the corner and jumped headfirst into the storm of bullets while unloading the rest of his PT-92's magazine. The sickle seemed to glow hot in his paw, and once again everything slowed down as he managed to lay several well placed shots into three rebels crowded together around a palette of ammo boxes. Crimsonspigots of blood erupted from their chests, arms, and legs as Kyle's fusillade of gunfire managed to take them down. Kyle gasped as he landed on his gut with several of his empty shell casings beneath him. Everything had sped back up, his enemies' bullets no longer hovering mere hair breadths from his face. The remaining rebels looked on dumbfounded, many of them unaware that they had run out of ammo. A coyote with an AK-74u standing in the corner to Kyle's right decided reloading would take too long and charged forth, his rifle held overhead ready to swing the butt plate clean into Kyle's cranium. Kyle heard the yote's war cry and whipped around to view his attacker before quickly rolling over once and springing back to his feet. Like the coyote, his gun was empty and thus just a very expensive paperweight. Kyle cringed and held up his arms to block the blow when a single shot rang out, the sonic concussion startling everyone as the coyote suddenly stumbled and fell wounded on the floor, a clean hole in his upper thigh spewing hot blood onto the carpet. Kyle glanced back at Katie to see her shivering in fear with one paw clasped over her mouth, the other shakily holding her pistol. He gave Katie a curt nod before lunging at the coyote and jabbing the sickle through his back to finish him off, making sure to grab the AK-74u as well. Slinging his new rifle across his shoulders, Kyle scurried as fast as he could behind a nearby steel desk just as the other rebels finished slapping fresh magazines into their weapons. Kyle hadn't managed to grab any mags for the AK, so instead he hastily reached for one of his spares for the PT-92 and chambered a round just as a pair of rebels started to move towards Katie. Quickly Kyle stood up and took aim, the rebels instantly switching targets from Katie to him and unloading a torrent of lead once again. Snapping off a quick three shots, Kyle managed to down one rebel before nearly catching a face full of hot death as he hit the deck and rolled behind another desk as his former location was ripped to shreds. Stray rounds shattered the ceiling to floor windows behind him, others tore up the carpet and were left jammed in the floorboards. One enterprising rebel fennec fox tried to flank Kyle as he was pinned down, moving in along the top of the room opposite the elevator. Seconds later he rounded the row of desks and had a clear bead on Kyle. BLAM BLAM BLAM CLICK! "Cazzo!" Kyle felt the hot kiss of a bullet as it cut through his lower back's flesh, fortunately only grazing him. Whipping to his right he was surprised to see a fox fighting to unjam his M-972 SMG. More bullets impacting around him spurred him to react fast, his new plan no more insane than his idea of entering a TV studio filled with socialist gunmen. Kyle took off in a crouched sprint for the fennec just as he managed to clear the spent casing from his gun. The fox silently gasped as he was face to face with a wolf nearly a full head taller than him, his fingers desperately hunting the trigger on his weapon. Kyle's suicidal charge was too quick though, and before the fox knew it Kyle had sliced him across the face with his sickle, a wound more painful than deadly. Suddenly the fox felt an arm wrap around his neck and the sickle blade pressed against his uncut cheek as Kyle took him as a human shield and began laying into the rebels with his pistol. "Ai Dios mio!" the fox cried in terror as he realized his comrades weren't going to hold their fire on his account. Another rebel fell dead as Kyle's bullets plowed a new breathing hole through the man's face, followed by yet another whose organ donor card was just rendered invalid.

Click! Kyle's pistol ran dry of ammo, and without missing a beat he tossed it aside and pulled the fennec's own gun from his waistband and flicked off the safety before continuing to mow down the remaining rebels. The few surviving rebels quickly rushed down a nearby stairwell, their screams a mix of Spanish and English as they shouted for their comrades to arm themselves and start barricading doors. Meanwhile, Kyle dropped his human shield and fired off what happened to be the last round in his gun through the wounded fox's skull before marching over to Katie. "Katie! You okay, sis?" "H-how...how'd you do that?" she shakily asked from her corner of the now disabled elevator, its doors jammed thanks to ricocheting bullets having destroyed the control panel. "Do what? Kill all those guys? I did better than that back in the war," Kyle shrugged as he helped Katie back to her feet. "Thanks for getting that one guy though, I owe yah big time." "Y-you have no idea," Katie replied before giving him an angry shove. "God! Why did I agree to stay with you all this time? You'd think after all the times we've almost died I'd be smart enough to know when to break it off with you!" "Oh c'mon sis, don't try to blame this mess on me..." "WE'RE HERE 'CAUSE YOU GOT A BLOWJOB IN THE DESERT YOU STUPID DICK!" "Fair enough...but you were the one who first kissed me soooooo..." "Oh don't even try to blame this on me," Katie growled while waving her PT-92 in her paw, "You're the one who wanted to fuck in the middle of the afternoon and forgot to lock the damn door! Thanks to you, we got caught and now our parents think we're perverts!" "Aren't we?" "DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" "I wasn't...sis are you feeling alright?" Kyle fearfully asked looking around for something to duck behind. "NO! I'm in the middle of this third world trash hole trying to live what has been my dream job since I was twelve, and I can't because somehow the guy I'm mated to dragged a socialist rebellion into my life and got all my friends kidnapped, and now it's up to me and him to go on a suicidal rampage to save them, and I FUCKING hate violence. Do you think that's gonna make me feel al-." "DIE YOU LITTLE BITCHES!" came the sudden shout of a pair of American rebels, a gray fox and a mountain lion, as they rushed into the room, AKs held at the ready. Without even blinking Katie suddenly turned and dumped her entire mag into the both of them as Kyle scrambled to pick up the closest gun he could find, only to realize his sister had just ventilated both enemies with deadly thoroughness. "I'M NOT DONE TALKING HERE!" Katie angrily yelled over the deafening ring of tinnitus in her ears. "Holy shit! Katie...that was awesome!" "Oh forget you Kyle, I'm still learn...wait, that was...awesome?" Kyle nodded enthusiastically as he picked up a pair of M-972s and handed one to Katie along with a few spare mags for it. "Hells yeah it was! What happened? A minute ago you were cowering in the elevator and now you're suddenly a badass." "I'm pissed at you, that's what happened," Katie sternly said while yanking at the M-972 Kyle passed her. "I can tell. You've used more profanity in the last two minutes than you had in your entire life up to this moment. Still, the fact that you can actually help me fight these guys should speed this whole thing up. What do you say; you ready to go rescue your friends?" "Sure, just show me how to..." "You push this to eject the mag, and pull this to load it after poppin' in a new one," Kyle said cutting her off as he showed her how to operate her weapon. Katie just sighed. "You know me too well, don't you?" "It's because I love you, sis," Kyle replied with a grin as he lead the way to the stairwell and down to the next floor. "I love you too, you stupid goofball," Katie relented with a shake of her head as she followed him closely down the stairs.

Meanwhile... Things were not going well for Marcus Caldwell. Even with his hostages being shown on live TV the American military was showing no signs of backing off. Already reports had come in via text message that U.S. Army helicopters were on their way up from Colombia, and that the U.S. Marines were airlifting an entire expeditionary unit to the airport that very minute. Even worse, Noriega had just been captured by the Panamanian police paramilitaries assaulting the rebel positions in the city. Caldwell wondered how in the world such a thing could happen, how such foul luck could befall them like this. Little did he know it was nothing but a case of poor timing on Noriega's part. Instead of headlining for his hacienda in the mountains as planned, he had decided to try and rally his men to take a nearby police precinct in order to capture the weapons cache there. The result had been most of Noriega's men getting mowed down followed by a can of tear gas into the room he was cowering in. With news of Noriega's capture spreading through the rebel lines, many of them chose to give up and retreat, while others just flat out surrendered. Caldwell was having a hell of a time keeping his men together, as many of them wanted to escape while the police were still busy rooting out the other rebel positions. He knew they were right, but part of him just couldn't accept a second defeat so soon after the last one when he'd been an officer in the PRA. But as of this moment, Caldwell's mind was focused on only one issue... "God damn it people, what's with all the shooting up there? Are they roping in from a helicopter or something?" Caldwell angrily shouted across the studio to his second in command. "Negative sir, their saying it's a pair of kids from the missionary group." "Bullshit. A couple of scared kids from the states can't possibly take on a whole building of armed guards, much less even work Soviet era guns and equipment." "Wait," Caldwell's lieutenant interrupted as he received another call over the radio, "They're coming downstairs now." Everyone in the studio looked up at the ceiling towards the ninth floor as the chatter of AK and sub-machinegun fire echoed through the steel rafters. Caldwell's guards hastily shouldered their weapons and took up positions around the door leading into the studio, leaving the hostages huddled together on the floor in front of the cameras. They knew it was only a matter of time before whatever was making those sounds reached them. "Oh shit..." Caldwell gasped under his breath as he cowered behind a computer terminal with his sidearm drawn. Knock knock! "Huh? Who the hell's there?" asked an American wolf as he hesitantly lowered his AK at the sound of someone knocking on the door. "Yo! It's Donovan," came a male voice, "Yeah we capped those two punks, it's all clear." "Oh thank fuck," the wolf sighed as everyone lowered their weapons and smiled in relief amongst themselves. "You know, you didn't have to come all the way down here to tell us that Don, but I can understand why you'd...THE FUCK?" As the wolf opened the door, he was greeted with the sight of a hyena clasping his paws to his head whilst Kyle jabbed the barrel of a PT-92 in his back and marched him into the room, while Katie followed close behind with an AK-74u strapped to her shoulder. "Oh my god, they weren't kidding when they said it was a pair of kids," Caldwell disbelievingly observed as the other guards hesitated to point their weapons anywhere but the floor or ceiling. Kyle just grinned as he kept a tight grip on his prisoner. "Yes, and most of 'they' are also dead now, save for good ol' Donovan here who just happened to make the smartest decision of his life when I told him to drop his weapon." "And then you just made the dumbest decision of yours by comin' in here with him the only thing between you and us," Caldwell retorted gruffly. "Dude, I've made way stupider choices than walking into a room full of armed guards," Kyle nonchalantly replied. "Now, here's what's going to happen. First, you're all gonna drop your weapons and go sit in the corner. Second, I'm gonna take these spoiled rich kids who are trying to do something productive for once in their miserable lives with me, and we're all gonna bail. Then lastly, you guys can get outta dodge before the cops show up and nail you all for terrorism or something." "Ha! You really think that..." "Oh! And did I mention I'm not human, I'm Death Incarnate and if you don't comply I will personally reap each and every one of your souls with this handy little sickle I picked up in Hell's version of Home Depot?" Kyle said while holding the sickle above his head for the others to see. "And if anyone here thinks I'm bluffing, ask yourselves, 'If he's lying, then how did he manage to get here?'" Caldwell started to laugh when suddenly he heard the sounds of his men dropping their weapons and raising their paws in submission. "What the? What you idiots doing?!?" "You heard him sir, this guy's whack!" replied an otter looking over his shoulder at Caldwell. "He's a fucking delinquent who got lucky! For fuck's sake, half of you guys are atheists to begin with," Caldwell groaned while slapping a paw to his forehead. "Yes," replied the wolf who now regretted his decision to open the door, "Which means we don't believe in a god. I'm pretty sure we all believe in Death though. It's a scientifically observable fact." "Glad that you all see it my way," Kyle grinned as he pushed Donovan away and ushered the now disarmed guards into a corner. "C'mon Caldwell, don't make me punish this gun by having to fire another round of this shitty Chinese made ammo your guys loaded it with." "Fuck off...whatever your name is, you and that little bitch there aren't taking my hostages anywhere," Caldwell growled before pulling a frag grenade off his belt and yanking the pin out. "There! Now if you shoot me you'll blow us all up!" Everyone froze, their eyes locked on Caldwell as he held the now live grenade in his right paw, his fingers holding down the safety bar that kept the fuse from igniting. Once he let go, they'd have about five seconds before it went off and turned anyone near it inside out. "Now, here's what you're going to do if you don't want me to drop this on your friends here," Caldwell said as he walked over and stood next to the hostages, all of them now struggling against their binds and trying to scream through the duct tape plastered over their mouths. "First, you're going to drop your weapons, then you're going to let Donovan tie you up, and if you're lucky I won't kill you when the police finally show up here." Kyle gritted his teeth before glancing at Katie. Her eyes met his, and together they knew that this was not going to end well. Katie was certain she was about to watch her friends die, and wondered just how she was going to be able to forgive herself for letting it happen. Kyle on the other paw knew that letting those kids die was something he could not under any circumstances allow to happen. Reluctantly, he took a deep breath and raised both his paws in the air. Then, he turned his head towards Katie and whispered to her. "I love you sis, always." Kyle looked back to Caldwell and slowly approached him, his paws still held up with his sickle in one hand and his PT-92 in the other. Caldwell merely smirked with satisfaction as he watched Kyle slowly approach with what he assumed was intent on surrendering. "Last chance," Kyle offered in a hushed voice. "For what?" "For you to put the pin back in that grenade and to go join your men in the corner." Caldwell just huffed and shook his head while motioning for Kyle to drop his weapons. Kyle started to lower his paws, when suddenly he raised his pistol and fired three shots past Caldwell and into the pane glass windows behind him. Caldwell flinched, his eyes blinking shut from the concussion of the muzzle blast coming from a mere twenty feet before him. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of Kyle charging him head on. The next thing everyone knew, Kyle locked Caldwell up in a firm tackle and shoved him back against the now weakened window behind them. The perforated panes couldn't withstand the weight of two two-hundred pound individuals crashing against them, and in an instant there was the chilling sound of shattering glass, followed by Caldwell's terrified screams as he plummeted to his death a hundred and twenty feet below. thud .........Ka-BOOM! "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Katie shrieked in terror as she rushed to the window and looked out below only to find a gray plume of dust and smoke swirling over the bloodstained streets. "Now! Get the bitch!" came a muffled shout from behind her. Whirling about, Katie saw the remaining rebels trying to rush from their corner to scoop up their weapons. Without a moment's hesitation Katie opened fire, her ears nearly deaf from the sonic pounding each time her AK barked and sank a leaden fang into the throats of the men who'd dared to kidnap her friends. Everyone froze after her first burst of fire split one wolf's head in two and left a panther's arm hanging by a tendon as he bled out on the floor. The five other rebels simply stood there, unsure of what to do next. Katie simply stared them down, her paws quivering as she stifled her tears and slowly curled her lips back into a pained scowl. Then, without remorse, she hoisted her AK again and fired a single shot through a coyote's heart, the exit wound leaving a sizeable splatter of blood on the wall behind him. The other four quickly bolted for the door, only for Katie to shoot wild and bring them down with shots to their legs and hips. With her AK now empty, Katie tossed it aside and retrieved a Swiss made Sig P228 from one rebel's holster and slowly approached the survivors now limping or crawling their way down the hall towards the elevator. The first rebel she approached was an otter who'd been struck in his thigh. His femoral artery was severed, and nearly a pint of blood had already spilled out of him and onto the studio's cheap carpeting. Katie decided not to waste a bullet and simply walked past him to an ocelot clutching at the wall as he tried to hop away on one foot, as a pair of bullets had nearly torn his right leg off at the knee. "Por favor...por favor..." he weakly pleaded as Katie approached him. BLAM! The gunshot startled the other two, a pair of foxes, who had only been grazed and managed to the elevator, only to find that it was no longer working thanks to the careless shooting of their comrades upstairs. BLAM! One fox fell to the floor, a 9mm slug now buried in a slushy mix of what had once been his lungs and heart. The other turned to face Katie, his paws waving above his head as he stuttered a plea of surrender, only for his words to slowly taper off into silence as his eyes stared into Katie's and he realized that the wholesome, innocent little girl that resided in her body was now a soulless killing machine. BLAM! Katie's shot went low and struck the fox in his shin. Falling to his knees, the vulpine rebel resumed his pleas for mercy, only for Katie to take a slow breath and steady her aim. As she pointed her gun at the fox, her weapon's sights briefly blurred as her eyes focused on the cowering sod before her, his eyes wide in panic as he screamed his supplications for mercy. Katie sighed dejectedly as she began to lower her weapon, her heart telling her that killing this man in cold blood was wrong. Part of her still wanted to hold back, to stop before she did something she regretted. However, in her mind all she could see was Kyle plummeting out the window in a final act of defiant bravery to protect her and the others. And with that image came the strength of will squeeze the trigger one more time. BLAM! Katie gasped in surprise as that final gunshot rang out, her mind feeling dizzy as if having suddenly awoken from a bad dream. Looking about, the gravity of her actions began to sink in, and she fell to her knees while staring at the still smoking gun in her paws. All around her lay the foes that she and Kyle had slain together, plus the final squad of Caldwell's personal guards that she had nearly wiped out single handedly. And yet her victory seemed hollow, worthless, and utterly bitter. Instead of standing side by side to revel in their triumphant assault and rescue, Kyle and Katie were now separated once more by the invisible hand of fate. "Katie? Are...are they all dead?" asked a frightened voice behind her. Looking over her shoulder, Katie saw a terrified fifteen year old golden retriever peeking out from behind the door to the studio. Evidently she'd managed to free herself from her bonds. "Yeah Meagan, they're gone. Gone," Katie mumbled as her ears continued to painfully ring. Meagan slowly walked up behind her and rested a paw on Katie's shoulder. "Are you hurt? They didn't hit you did they?" Katie shook her head as she slowly let her pistol slip free of her fingers and clatter upon the floor. She didn't even notice that her fur was matted at the knees from the pool of blood collecting before her. "I...I don't know what to say...thank you?" Megan stammered as she tried to find the right words to express sympathy and gratitude. Katie nodded as tears pooled in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks. "I'm sorry big brother...I...I love you..." she whispered to herself before finally succumbing to the grief that now covered her soul. Meagan knew nothing else could be said, or should be for that matter. Silently, she helped Katie to her feet and lead her back into the studio where she sat down at a desk to weep while Meagan set about freeing the remaining hostages. All Katie could do was sit and stare into her empty paws as she tried to understand what had just taken place. Outside, the sirens of approaching police cars wailed through the urban jungle of Panama City, their shrill cry echoing ever closer with the promise of rescue and reprise from the living nightmare they had all been trapped in for the last three hours. However, without Kyle by her side all Katie felt was grief, guilt, and anger. She couldn't help but feel betrayed. How could God have let them get this far, only for Kyle to be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice to save them all? Little did she know, Kyle hadn't considered his action to be a choice at all. He knew that as long as Elsie was out there he and Katie could never be safe, and neither could their friends and family. While Katie had finally managed to escape from her nightmare, Kyle's had only just begun...

"W-what the? How the hell are we...oh god..." Caldwell stammered upon standing up only to realize he was looking down at the twisted remains of his corpse. Shortly after impacting the ground Kyle had been flung off of Caldwell and rolled to the side in the nick of time to avoid being hit by the grenade's detonation, the explosion itself spreading Caldwell's shattered cadaver like strawberry jam over the pavement. Kyle's corpse on the other paw merely had a few broken bones...one of them being his neck. "Welcome to Hell you sonuva bitch!" Kyle snarled, his sickle poised above his head as he crossed back into the land of the dead. "What the shit?! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?" Caldwell screamed in horror as he saw the wolf who had just killed them both standing before him. "I'm not," Kyle grinned wickedly.

Before Caldwell could further react, Kyle sliced open his gut and ripped out a grotesque combination of Caldwell's intestines and stomach; his ropey entrails dripping blood and liquid stool as Kyle coldly watched Caldwell fall to his feet and stared up into oblivion. A few moments later his soul's form dissolved, his essence fully "reaped" and sent on to the afterlife; as to which afterlife, Kyle had no doubt it was the warmer of the two options. "That was for John you motherfucker," Kyle spat as he felt a familiar coldness wash over him. Without even turning he simply smiled and greeted the shadow he felt creeping up behind him. "Hello Elsie." "Why hello Kyle, funny seeing you here." "I was about to say the same for you," he said as he turned to face her. "How'd it feel? Your first soul sent to the great beyond?" Kyle paused as he looked down at his still dripping sickle. "I felt...I feel...nothing." "Exactly...now you know how I've suffered for the last ten months," Elsie coldly remarked. "You know you didn't have to tackle him. You're a good enough shot you could've put a round through his head, his reflexes would've clenched his paws and kept the grenade's safety lever attached." "You think I didn't know that?" Elsie was taken aback for a second. "Then why...why did you kill yourself along with him? Was it so you could have the satisfaction of killing him a second time?" "Hardly, that was just gravy," Kyle smirked. "Then why?" "I came here to kill you." "Ha!" Elsie snorted, "You kill me? Pff! You wouldn't do that, you'd never get to see your little sissy again!" "And you wouldn't ever touch her or her friends again," Kyle growled in reply. Elsie paused for a moment as she realized Kyle was serious. "Hmph, you might think you can kill me, but when push comes to shove you'll back down. You know there's no way out once you take on this curse. You're a coward. You were a coward in the war and you're still one now, even if you don't realize it yet." "And you're about to be dead wrong," Kyle snarled as he took a step towards her. "Oh! Hold on a moment...this is too perfect!" Elsie interrupted. "It seems I've got a little side job to attend to." "Don't think you can run..." "Oh I'm not, I'm no weakling like you. It's just that it appears your step-father finally succumbed to that Hellfire virus he was exposed to back in Atlanta," Elsie said with smug satisfaction. "W-what? No...that's not how it works..." "Oh yes it is. Most infected don't live long enough for their immune systems to completely shut down, but your dear old dad managed to slug it out for a few months before finally keeling over," Elsie taunted. "And guess what? I'm gonna give you a chance to save him." Kyle said nothing as he scowled at her with tense interest. "I'm gonna make you relive the same hell you went through before those many months ago," Elsie sinisterly elaborated. "You'll find me at the old abandoned ranch where we met the last time we were both alive." And with that, she disappeared in a shroud of a reddish black fog that remained even in her absence, its dark presence mirroring Kyle's own twisted thoughts as pondered his next move. He knew Elsie wouldn't play fair, but in truth Death never did no matter who wore its mask. Still, he knew he couldn't let Katie lose her father; the pain of just seeing him sick was almost too much for her to bear.  Closing his eyes, he did all he could think to do at the moment; pray. God, if you're up there, I'm gonna need a hand with this. You've bailed my ass out more times than I can remember, but I just need one last favor before I'm done, then you can let me go on to what fate has had in store for me the last four years.

A few minutes later, out in the wastes of Arizona It took but a second for Kyle's sickle to transport him to the dusty hill overlooking the ranch where he and his fellow Marines had fought to try and rescue Elsie from the clutches of the PRA. The ranch was nothing but a nightmare frozen in time; a monument to his ultimate failure in life. And now that he was no longer alive, the world seemed all the bleaker. The sky now infinitely red with twinkling black stars, not unlike Hell's own landscape he recalled. Likewise, a black fog rolled along the ground like waves on the ocean. The sable cloud seemed to blow towards the ranch as if it were drawn to the misery that resided within. Looking out, Kyle saw the events from that fateful night play out again in his mind. He saw the rocks where he and Elsie had fooled around, only end up pushing her away and into the hands of the enemy. Kyle looked away, only to gaze upon the fence where Edgar had been shot as he tried to climb over... "Cover me!" Tariq screamed as bullets bounced all around him. Kyle and Robert were both pinned down as well, the PRA gunners showing no mercy as they rained down hundreds of rounds into the truck the two marines hid behind. "Get ready, I'm gonna lay down suppressive fire!" Edgar yelled as he advanced towards his colleagues and began shooting at the trio of PRA riflemen perched atop the large barn. One of them was struck and rolled off, dead and limp upon impacting the ground a second later. Edgar hastily reloaded, pausing as he reached the fence surrounding the ranch to make sure his weapon was good to go, and then scurried to climb over the metal links, through the barbed wire and onto the other side. He would never feel the lone rifle shot that entered just below his armpit and curved up and out to sever his spine through the back of his neck. Collapsing dead in the sand, his friends could only grit their teeth and fight on. Kyle shook his head to shoo away the flood of images in his mind as he pictured Robert's legs getting blown off by a Claymore mine placed by the barn, and Tariq dying in a fiery explosion when he mistakenly took cover near a PRA truck laden with 55 gallon drums of diesel fuel. "Kyle, you look like shit," came a familiar voice from behind him. "Tomas? My god, I never expected to see you again," Kyle happily sighed as he recognized the angel who'd played a part in saving him and Katie a couple years back. "Nor I," Tomas nodded as he stepped up next to Kyle and surveyed the ranch before him. "So, your crazed ex-squadmate is now the Grim Reaper and is threatening to finish off your step-dad as a way of punishing you for breaking her heart?" Kyle nodded wearily. "That about sums it up. I doubt she'll even let me get close before she kills him. Tomas...I fucked up big time man. This isn't like the last time where it was just fate testing us; I truly hurt this girl. Hell, I'm the reason she's dead in the first place, along with my whole squad." "We've all made mistakes Kyle. I know that more than anyone, believe me. We've both had to fight our way out of Hell itself for the ones we love, and we've both made it once before. I know you can do this again, especially since you'll have me by your side." Kyle smirked. "Humble as always." "You know it, amigo." "How're the guys doing? You know, Tariq and the others." "Couldn't be better," Tomas replied as he placed a paw on Kyle's shoulder. "They're not angry at you either bro, trust me." "How can that be? If I hadn't broken Elsie's heart they would never have had to attack that ranch to try and rescue her." "As I recall, you all were going to attack it anyway to secure that gold, were you not?" Tomas sharply inquired. "Well...yeah, but...but...we were doomed from the start weren't we?" Kyle realized. "Some things in life are just unavoidable. Like I said, we all make mistakes. Our problems and misfortunes do not define who we are though; rather, it is how we choose to deal with them that defines our character." Kyle simply stared and pondered on what Tomas had said. "So it was either her or me then, huh?" "Indubitably, I'm afraid," Tomas confirmed with a melancholy smirk. "Well, no sense delaying the inevitable any longer," Kyle sighed. "What's the plan?" "Just draw her into the open and I'll give you a chance to rescue your dad and get out of there," Tomas replied while kneeling to open a long white plastic case at his feet. "Whoa...where'd you get that?" "Texas," Tomas grinned as he pulled out what looked to be a R700 sniper rifle--or something like one--that was covered in strange symbols and runic carvings. "Trust me; this is one of the few things in the universe that'll make a Reaper bleed." Kyle smirked and wandered down to the ranch to face Elsie. "Just don't miss and shoot me in the butt is all I ask, dude." "Hey if I hurt your ass it'll be mine that gets chewed out later," Tomas called after him before finishing the adjustments on his rifle. Cautiously, Kyle strolled through the front gate of the ranch. The whole place reeked of ghosts and nightmares, with dust clouds swirling every which way along the ground as the wind softly howled from the west. The barn was still charred black from the diesel fires that had raged during the assault, and the farmhouse's windows were all shattered and empty like gouged eye sockets on a skull. "Alright Elsie, where are you?" Kyle called out as he looked around for any sign of his former sister in arms. "Over here, sexy," came her voice in a taunting coo. Kyle turned to see Elsie standing in the ruined loft of the barn with John bound and gagged kneeling beside her. To Kyle's horror, Elsie had strung a rope around his neck and tied the other end to the barn's rafters, leaving only two feet of slack to keep John from strangling. "Let John go Elsie, he never did anything to hurt you," Kyle demanded as he readied his sickle in his left paw. "Oh I know that," Elsie replied callously, "You should have seen him, he was so surprised when instead of being sent off to heaven he was sent here instead. And while we waited for you to show up I told him everything, about how you cheated on your little sister with me and then left me to die in the desert." "You know I tried to save your life you lying bitch!" Kyle retorted angrily, "You were my best friend for the brief time I knew you, and we both made a mistake that cost us dearly. Please Elsie, don't make me do what I fear most...don't make me kill you." "It's too late to apologize, Kyle, and it's too late to redeem yourself. All that matters to me now is seeing you feel the way I did when you broke my heart that fateful night." "And you plan to do that by killing my step-sister's father?" Kyle asked incredulously. "I know how much you care for her. Hell, you're willing to take my place to keep her safe, and while I'm tempted to break free of this curse...seeing you in pain just seems so much more," she paused a moment to lick her lips before peeling them into a sinister smile, "...satisfying, wouldn't you agree?" "You want to hurt me Elsie? Then come and get me," Kyle answered as he lowered his sickle and spread his arms open wide, his eyes staring defiantly as he stood vulnerable before her. Elsie chuckled hoarsely, the demonic furor in her tortured soul coming to light as she pulled up her hood to shroud her face in darkness and gripped her scythe in her paws. Kyle continued to stand below her, waiting as he silently prayed that Tomas wouldn't miss. Elsie crept forward to the edge of the loft, looking down upon her prey as she savored the drama of the moment, of the anticipation of finally quenching her thirst for revenge. Then, as she prepared to leap forth, she kicked John forward and out of the loft, the rope going taunt and leaving him to slowly choke as she finally sprang forth, scythe raised high, and prepared to finally strike Kyle down. Only she didn't. For the briefest of seconds it felt as if everything had frozen in place, only to resume with the world now hanging upside down. Instead of landing a killing blow upon Kyle's head, Elsie instead now lay clutching her leg on the ground a few feet to Kyle's right. Suddenly, the crack of a rifle shot boomed through the air, its echo reverberating throughout the ranch, followed by John's body falling free from the rope's clutches and a second rifle shot sounding as he hit the ground relatively unharmed. It took a second for Kyle to realize that Elsie had been shot through the legs, and that the rope around John's neck had been shot apart. The ends of it still glowed orange with flame left by the holy bullet that burned it clean through. "Arghh! You fucking coward, how could I be so stupid?!" Elsie cried out in anguish as she rolled onto her back to look up at Kyle who stood over her with smug satisfaction. Leaving her for a moment, Kyle hurried over to check on John to make sure he was still alive...in a spiritual sense at least. Sure enough, John's soul was still unharmed, save for a slight chafing from the rope. "K-Kyle? What the heck is goin' on...am I dreaming or something?" John asked in disbelief as Kyle undid the various ropes retraining him. "If you are, then please wake up for both our sakes," Kyle replied. "Don't worry, your time isn't up yet, not for a long time." "But...who, how are you even here?" "Call it a twist of fate," Kyle said as he helped John stand up. "There will more time for reminiscing when we're both back home and safe from communist insurgents and angry ex-girlfriends." John chuckled and shook his head. "You're awfully calm despite our circumstances." Both wolves looked over at Elsie who was busy glaring at them but still unable to stand thanks to the grievous wounds in her legs. "Yeah well...let's just say this isn't my first rodeo," Kyle awkwardly explained, "You probably wouldn't have believed before today anyway considering how insane this all is." John nodded. "Damn right, kiddo. But uh...just how do we get home?" "I'll take care of that. Say hi to mom for me, I'll be along shortly, I just have to take care of some final business," Kyle said as he gently brushed the sickle along John's back and revived him. Back in Georgia, a pair of startled Army Rangers guarding the quarantine facility would be awestruck to see a wolf that had been pronounced dead ten minutes earlier rise up from his bunk and start complaining about the lack of a bathroom. Out of all the infected patients whose bodies rejected the Hellfire vaccine, John would be the only one to survive.  Examinations of his blood would reveal no antibodies, no other pathogens or chemicals present that could have removed the virus. For all intents and purposes, the Hellfire virus in his blood had just disappeared without a trace. "So much for your revenge," Kyle said as he walked back to Elsie. "Katie's father is safe and sound yet again, and you're about as threatening as Stephen Hawking." Elsie just growled, but her anger suddenly softened into discontent laughter. "So, still planning on killing me to keep your little sissy safe?" "You've yet to give me a reason to change my mind," Kyle admitted as he gripped his sickle and prepared to deliver a long overdue coup de grace upon the demon before him. "So you're not only a coward, but you're stubborn as well," she sharply uttered. "Tell me Kyle, are you a particularly patient wolf?" "Not really," he answered dryly. "I've waited what seemed to be an eternity for this moment, only to have it ruined by your little friend with the rifle," she coldly articulated as she peeled back her hood and stared up at Kyle with hate filled eyes. "And I can wait another eternity if I have to." Suddenly, Elsie lifted her own sickle from her belt and slashed it through the air, its blade leaving a gash in the sky, the wounded clouds bled swirling dark fog that filled the ranch and surround area with its cold shroud. "What the...Elsie! What the fuck are you doing?!" Kyle exclaimed as he suddenly felt the ground beneath him crumble and he was launched into free fall. All around him a black vortex swirled, the only light coming from the ranch's buildings that fell with him, their embers relit and aflame yet again as they dissolved into nothing as large chunks of rock and earth crumbled into dust and disappeared as well. Kyle wanted to scream but it felt as if his mouth was sown shut, his mind racing as he tried to look for some way to escape, only to suddenly feel a sharp impact as he plunged into a murky, pungent river. Flailing his arms about to steady himself, he quickly realized where he was and panicked to swim to the surface. His lungs burned, yet his mouth still remained sealed with some dark magic, and his nose felt equally restrained. Slowly blood creeped into his vision, his strength gave way, and a strange sense of calm washed over him as he fell into lulled repose, all the while drifting weightlessly with the tide.

U.S. Embassy, Panama City - 7:35 P.M. Katie and the others were rescued by a contingent of U.S. Marines from the embassy and Panamanian police forces a few minutes after Katie had finished off the remaining guards in the building. Once they were sure the studio was clear of hostiles and all the hostages were secure, the soldiers and police escorted Katie and her friends back to the embassy where they'd wait until a C-17 arrived at the local airport to ferry everyone back to Atlanta. For now though, a trio of corpsmen inspected the young missionaries and made sure they okay while also providing them with mild comforts from home such as blankets and warm beverages to help calm their nerves. Katie sat alone on a couch in the embassy break room holding an untouched cup of locally grown coffee. She was almost catatonic, her body only moving slightly each time she took a breath. Her mind kept replaying that final scene of Kyle pushing Caldwell out the window to his demise, followed by the gut wrenching explosion. Katie wanted to believe that Kyle was still alive, that by some miracle he had managed to cheat death once again. But she knew that they had been lucky for so long, and luck was like any other resource; it always runs out eventually. Taking another deep breath, she finally managed to stand up and took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee. The bitter taste was rather pleasant considering the circumstances, and she decided to not bother with the cream and sugar as she wandered off to go find Mr. Baker. Two rooms down she found him sitting in an office talking with a Marine panther who had just returned from cleanup duty at the TV station. "Ms. Blackmon, are you okay?" Mr. Baker addressed her as he noticed her standing in the hallway. Katie nodded and stepped inside. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir...I just wanted to know if they had recovered my brother's body yet. I don't want to leave without him, dead or alive." Baker and the panther exchanged glances and then awkwardly scratched their heads. "I...well, no, Katie, we haven't." "What? Why not? He should've been right on the street next to that other guy..." "Caldwell, yes. We found his body," the marine stated, "It wasn't pretty, I can tell you that. But...are you sure your brother actually fell out the window with him?" "Yes, of course I am, I watched it happen along with all my friends who are now traumatized for life thanks to you," Katie coldly said while turning her gaze to Baker. "I...miss, I have no idea..." "Kyle told me what you were having him do here. What, you think he'd lie to his own sister?" Katie sharply inquired. "Then you have my sincerest apologies Katie, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." "Of course not," Katie replied before pretending to trip and splash her coffee across Baker's face. "Just as I didn't mean for that to happen." Baker just gritted his teeth and bit his tongue as he tried to think of what to say next. "Miss, the only reason I asked was because we didn't find any trace of your brother's body near Caldwell's," the panther interjected. "What do you mean no trace, how's that even possible?" Katie asked in disbelief. "I mean you found Caldwell's no problem right?" "Yes ma'am, we did. All we found was a handgun lying next to Caldwell, and some stray scraps of clothing." Katie's mind began to stir. "What kind of clothing..." "Uh, a black men's polo shirt and some tan cargo shorts I believe," the marine answered. "We think they were dropped by looters from a nearby shop since they were riddled with bullet holes but didn't have any traces of blood on them." "Ah. Well...let me know if you find anything else," Katie said as she turned to leave. Her thoughts racing like the wind, Katie continued walking down the hall back to the break room as she tried to process the realization she had just experienced. There was no doubt in her mind they had found Kyle's clothes, and yet there was no physical trace of him to be seen. Even the blood on his clothing had disappeared, while hers still bore the stains from her earlier mishap with a car. What did it mean? Had Kyle just ceased to exist...no, if that was the case she'd no longer remember him she mused. While the truth escaped her for the moment, one thought continued to play over and over within her mind. I know you're still out there Kyle...but where? ...but where... ...where....

Unknown - ?:?? Kyle came to on a shallow carpeted floor in what appeared to be an empty office building. The lights were out, but the desk complete with an all-in-one computer and photos of some random guy's family made it pretty obvious he was in some sort of white collar environment.  Standing up, he braced himself against the wall as he looked for a way to open the shutters covering the window. He couldn't find the traditional pull cords, but after fumbling along the walls for a minute he finally found a switch that raised them up. To his astonishment he was met with a sprawling cityscape, at night no less, with towering skyscrapers lined with neon lighting and bright signs advertising familiar...and unfamiliar, products like Coca-Cola and something about the Union Aerospace Corporation. That's when he noticed that twenty floors below him on the street was a hoard of flashing blue and red lights. He hadn't noticed them at first since the whole city looked like the inside of the nightclub, but as he gazed upon them he realized they were a mix of police and fire fighting vehicles. Dark figures rushed about to block off traffic and secure the area, while a helicopter passed by with a spotlight shining blinding beams of light into the windows. "What on earth...is the building on fire?" Kyle asked himself as he turned around looked for an exit. He couldn't see any smoke, and the lack of alarms was suspect as well. However, he also noticed that the building didn't seem to have any power at all, which was equally suspicious. As he wandered into the hallway it suddenly dawned on him that he was no longer clothed. Looking down at his feet, Kyle confirmed that he was indeed butt ass naked...in a blacked out office building...with no idea how he got there, and the police were about two minutes from storming the building. "Well played, Elsie...well played," he groaned as he made his way down a darkened corridor where he hoped to find a way to the ground floor. Suddenly he felt the floor slicken beneath his feet, and a warm, sticky liquid squish between his toes. Reeling in disgust, Kyle knelt down to inspect what he'd just stepped in only for his nose to detect the all too familiar scent of freshly drawn blood. This chilling revelation sent shivers up his spine as he quickly looked about for the source of the blood, only to nearly trip over the mangled corpse of some poor security guard. "Oh dear god, what have I gotten into now..." "SCRAAAAEEEGGHHHH!" Kyle's eyes darted up from the body to see a humanoid shape skulking in the shadows before him. A pair of eyes glinted back at him through the pitch black of the hallway, only to turn into four, eight, twelve, thirteen white, beady little eyes with a stare as sharp as a needle. Like a cascading flood the memories came rushing back into Kyle's mind, of his time in Hell, of the creatures he faced there, and how they should ONLY be found there. Was this some unexplored corner of the netherworld he'd yet to explore? A whole city not unlike the ones on earth filled with fresh souls for the demons to gorge themselves upon? Or was this just some sick nightmare as he lay in a coma in a hospital bed somewhere? Kyle couldn't make sense of anything at that moment until he saw the demon before him form a fireball in its claws, the orange glow illuminating a small portion of the hallway. The next thing he knew his chest was on fire as the glowing orb struck him dead center on the torso. The smell of charred fur and flesh filled his nostrils as Kyle screamed in pain as he patted himself out. The demon screamed again and crouched down to pounce as Kyle finished extinguishing himself. With a thud Kyle landed on his back as the demon leapt into him and knocked him down. Its claws prepared to rain blows upon his face, when Kyle's reflexes saved him as he managed to grab the demon's wrist with one paw and strike it across the face with his other. No losing his grip, Kyle hoisted himself up and grabbed the demon by the throat as it shrieked in his grasp. Hurling himself against the wall, Kyle slammed the creature through a pain glass wall overlooking a conference room, shattering it into a hundred pieces and giving himself and the monster plenty of cuts. The demon howled in pain as its black blood leaked from the dozens of cuts that now covered its leathery body. "C'mon you motherfucker, YEAH!" Kyle shouted as he picked up a shard of glass and drove it into the demon's gut. Kyle grunted in pain as he felt the glass give his paw a nasty gash, but likewise it split the demon open as well and left it kneeling before him with its guts pouring out of the open wound. The last thing it saw was Kyle's heel land a solid kick to its face, crunching its faceplate and leaving it dead on the floor. Just as Kyle breathed a sigh of relief, he heard another shriek behind him.  Wheeling about, he saw another demon standing at the other end of the hallway in a four way intersection. Quickly he looked for another weapon to fend off this next attacker, when suddenly he was deafened by the sound of small caliber gunfire. In an instant the demon was torn to ribbons and fell dead in the hallway. "Oh thank you Jesus," Kyle sighed in pained relief as he watched a group of four black clad figures step around the corner, weapons at the ready. The tactical flashlights on their guns blinded him as they kept their weapons trained on Kyle as they slowly approached him. Kyle could barely see them as he held up his paws to shield his face from their lights. The group paused before him, looking him over. "Connolly, he look okay to you?" asked the apparent leader. "Aye, sir." "Where the fuck are his clothes?" asked another of the group. "Who cares, he's the first clean person we've found in the building," said another, a female by the sound of it. "Uh, guys, you know I'm right here," Kyle said as he tried to greet them, "And can we maybe not point the guns at me?" "Who are you?" asked their leader. "Kyle Blackmon," he answered, suddenly wondering if this was a rescue or a just another enemy trying to kill him. "His name's not on the list of employees here," the female spoke again as she looked at a wrist mounted computer. "And where the hell are his clothes?" "Let's find out," the leader asked. "And lower your weapons; he's obviously not one of them." With the lights no longer in his eyes, Kyle was able to see that his rescuers were furs just like himself, only their gear resembled nothing he'd ever encountered before. Their uniforms were black, but the insignias and patches sewn onto them were unfamiliar. Likewise, their headgear included full face masks that resembled a motorcycle helmet. As for their weapons, they were familiar designs, yet the modifications were certainly advancements he'd yet to encounter in his military career. "Kid, what year is it?" "I don't...uhh, July...something, 2016? Or is it seventeen? Sorry, I'm still trying to figure out how I got into this building in the first place." Kyle noticed his response seemed to draw the ire of his rescuers. One of them looked to his leader as if to ask, can I just shoot this guy already?

"Mr. Blackmon, do you really think that's what the year is, or are you just being cute?" "I told you I don't know. Why, how far am I off by? A year, two years?" "Two hundred would be a better answer." "Two...hundred?" Kyle gasped in disbelief. "You're...you're not serious...please don't be serious." "It's August 7th, 2195, Mr. Blackmon," the leader coldly replied before turning to one of his subordinates. "Alright, Connolly get him restrained and downstairs, the rest of you finish clearing the building." With that, one of the soldiers--or were they cops?--approached Kyle and manhandled him onto the floor. He would've resisted had the shock from the revelation he'd just experienced not been so strong. Kyle hardly noticed the one called Connolly placing a pair of flexi-cuffs on his wrists and hoist up to march him to the stairwell. Once in the lobby he was given a blanket to cover himself with before being led into a large police van where he was told to sit and wait. Before locking the doors behind him, one of the cops threw him a navy blue prisoner jumpsuit and then pressed a button on his wrist that caused Kyle's restrains to suddenly pop off. Sighing to himself, Kyle reluctantly donned his new clothes and wondered how in the world he'd ended up here, and more importantly how he was to escape...                                                                                  THE END......of the beginning