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    Riley ventured into the forest surrounding the house, crossing the vegetable garden and picking a fresh green apple from one of the trees. He bit the apple and chewed the sour fruit, swallowing the juice that tickled his taste buds. He reluctantly kept moving, passing by more trees and finding himself in a dead zone. He called it the dead zone because everything had died. The trees looked like they had burned in a fire, the ground was impeccably black and even the air had this deathly look to it.

He enjoyed being out here; away from everything. Ever since Hart gave him the freedom, he spent a lot of time outside just watching the forest.

He had always been recluse, and that was a reason why he was in Bellumstone in the first place. Riley and his sister separated for a year while they studied in different colleges, but his friends and teachers informed her of his little problem; which wasn't a problem, and it made him angry just thinking about it. People worried, he understood that. But it wasn't anyone's business what he did or didn't do.

His parent's died a very long time ago, so his sister was the one that got the phone call about possible suicidal behavior coming from her only sibling. He wasn't doing very well in school, but it wasn't because he was suicidal. School just wasn't important to him. Yeah, he was one of those people. Honestly, he would have probably dropped out anyway. Some people just weren't meant for school and that was okay.

But his obvious shaky confidence and self-esteem left him incredibly vulnerable to suspicion and judgment. His sister cried and begged him to come home, except they didn't have a home. They shared an apartment before they went off to college, but not a home like when they were children and had parents. He didn't even remember what their voices sounded like.

In the end she managed to convince him to move back to Bellumstone, where they were both born, because it might do him some good. He never really understood what she meant, and he never asked. He was just glad that he didn't have to go to that school anymore, he never really fit in, even within his group of friends.

And that was why he liked being out here. It was so quiet sometimes that he swore he could hear magic. Magic as in animals wandering, sniffing curiously while they stepped on fallen branches, reacting to the sound of the snap when it broke in two. Or new flowers blooming and a single drop of rain falling on its pedals. Everything out here was better than anything over there.

And that was what made him and Hart so damn good for each other.

Speaking of Hart, he had been following Riley for the past thirty minutes. Did he think he wouldn't catch on? He wasn't stupid.

“Do you know what happened here?” Riley asked loudly, hiding a smug smile as he heard the crunching of leaves.

Hart moved next to him, locking his eyes on the dead trees in front of them.

“Forest fire?” he guessed.

Riley smiled, sliding his hands around the man.

“Even though everything's dead, it's still beautiful,” Riley said.

“I agree, it's all very beautiful. Death shouldn't be feared, you know? It should be embraced. Death . . . it's not an end, but the end of a journey and the beginning of a new one.”

“Strange journey I'm in,” Riley said.

Hart smirked, and yeah, he could actually have emotions like normal people. He wasn't just some weirdo who was incapable of showing his feelings, he just chose not to. Why? No one knew, but Riley had noticed a long time ago. It was only when he felt comfortable that Hart really showed who he was, and not the killer side, the human side.

“I'm going inside, please be careful,” Hart said as he turned to leave.

“Can I come with you?” Riley asked.

“You can go wherever you want,” Hart said, still walking away.

“No, I mean . . . can I go with you . . . to Bellumstone.”

That stopped him. He kept his back to Riley, looking out in front of him. Riley wished he'd turn so he could see what puzzled expression was written on his face. Could it be an angry one? Perhaps a confused one, like what could Riley possibly want with Bellumstone. Or maybe he was thinking about it.

“I'm not going to run errands," he told him.

“I know . . . I know what you're going to do,” Riley said.

He heard the man sigh heavily. He raised his head, looking up at the house in the very far distance. Then he looked to the side and quietly said, “Yeah, okay. But you'll need to wear something different, or people will recognize you.”

“I don't think anyone will realize it's me,” he said, touching a strand of dark hair falling over his face. He never had long hair in his life, always had his normal shaggy brown hair. No one would suspect. “And if you make me dress like you, we're gonna look like idiots.”

“I'm aware of that. I have something you can wear.” And then he was off again, leaving through the trees.

Riley looked back at the forest one last time before following Hart. He wanted to teleport straight inside the house, but for some reason he couldn't do it from the outside. He could only call the dagger if he was inside the house, and it bothered him a little, but the fact that these things existed just made him grateful and happy with what he had. Not many people could say they teleport.

Inside, Hart offered to cut his hair but then changed his mind; it would be better for Riley not to look like himself. He already didn't look like himself, with his pale skin, dark hair and bright brown eyes. He was a new person.

Upstairs in Hart's bedroom, Riley stood half naked in front of the dresser, waiting patiently for Hart to return with his clothes. He was more than excited to leave this house and visit the town, he was thrilled, and a little bit scared. Hart had agreed unhesitatingly, and quite frankly that worried him.

Could it really be that the man trusted him? Something told him he had other plans in mind, and Riley wasn't ready for more surprises.

Hart returned, dropping clothes on the bed. They felt soft and warm, way better than anything Riley had been given before. Hart watched him as he put on the long sleeved gray shirt and the black thin coat with the hood. Then he was thrown a pair of black pants and a gray scarf.

“Thanks,” Riley told him as he quickly dressed.

“Pull up your hood, and when we get to Bellumstone you will do as I say.”

Riley nodded, pulling the hood over his head. Hart quietly watched him, like he was still contemplating about Riley going to Bellumstone with him. In the end, he stepped aside and let Riley walk out first. They headed down the stairs and right before Riley stepped out of the house, he telepathically called his dagger and hid it inside his jacket.

The car was parked out of sight, so they had to walk out a little further. When they reached the car, and before Riley could open the passenger side, Hart stepped in between and opened the door for him.

“Thank you,” he told him, smiling.

Hart tilted his head down, almost as if he was bowing. He closed the door once Riley was inside and got behind the wheel, turning the car on and driving away from their home. Riley kept a mental note to remember which way they were going, for future reference.

For the first time he realized how far they were from everything. The forest seemed to stretch forever. They passed empty fields, driving over secret dirt roads that were barely visible unless you had traveled through them multiple times and knew them like the back of your hand.

Riley suddenly remembered something, something gravely important. He turned to look at Hart, who seemed to be concentrating a bit too hard on the road. Or maybe he was just angry, really, he couldn't tell.

“Hart.”

He made a noise that told Riley he was listening.

“What did you do with the . . .” Riley swallowed, remembering the devastating incident somewhere on one of these secret roads. He couldn't get their screaming out of his head, or the taste of their blood on his lips from when he sliced their throats. They never saw it coming; never expected the victim to be the opposite of innocence. But more importantly he hadn't expected it himself.

“The bodies?” Hart finished for him, seeing the tormented look in his eyes and the way he fought to get words out of his mouth.

“Yes, and the car . . . the evidence. What did you do with it?”

“Don't worry about it, I took care of it. It never happened.”

“But–“

“–I said I took care of it.”

Riley shut his mouth, accepting Hart's words. If he took care of it, then he wasn't going to question it. Hart was smart, he knew exactly what he was doing.

It was getting dark, which was the point. They weren't going to go to Bellumstone during the day, that was too risky. Riley wasn't sure how much he was going to participate in Hart's . . . job, but he knew he was going to be a part of it no matter what.

He never bothered to ask how Hart did it, how he took people. Were they all brought in like Riley was? Did he knock them unconscious? Did he drug them? Did he beat them until they couldn't feel a muscle? Finally, he would know the answers to the questions on the tip of his tongue.

They were driving when they suddenly came across an abandoned house that looked like it had gone through hell and back. It was old, torn apart and it seemed like it could collapse any second. It looked familiar, oddly similar to Hart's house. He couldn't quite figure out why it felt so eerie to him.

When they passed the house, a few minutes later they were on a real road. He could see Bellumstone. He began to feel sick with nerves, and the motion of the vehicle driving over rocks did not help soothe the churning sensation in his stomach.

He could feel Hart's eyes on him as they entered the town. It hadn't changed much, but being away for so many months made it feel like it was brand new. He spotted the first person walking on the sidewalk. It was a woman. She carried a shopping bag in one hand and a cellphone in the other. She looked comfortable, even out in the night with no one around.

Riley forgot how safe he used to feel, how oblivious and gullible he was in the real world to believe he was ever safe. The world wasn't a safe place, it never was. And he wasn't thinking about Hart. Hart was the least of his concerns.

“I think I'll drive a little more north, closer to the town hall,” said Hart.

Riley forced his eyes away from the town and into blue eyes.

“Why? Aren't there more people there?”

“I said closer to the town hall, not in front of it,” he replied.

Riley grinned, feeling embarrassed.

“Sorry, I was just–“

“–when I tell you to, I want you to pick somebody,” he interrupted.

Riley pulled his eyebrows together, confused and a tiny bit worried.

“You mean pick somebody for you to take?” Hart nodded to this.

Riley wasn't a monster, not completely. He still didn't feel comfortable with taking someone's life, even though he had already done that more than the average person. But just because he killed didn't mean he enjoyed it. It was pretty much the exact opposite. Someone's life was going to be on his hands tonight. He was going to pick who died and who lived. That was a choice he never wanted to make, but he knew he had to.

They drove for a while and he felt like Hart was delaying the pick up simply because he wanted to let Riley enjoy being outside for a change. He was grateful, but the anticipation was killing him.

“Pick somebody,” the words he never wanted to hear escaped out of Hart's mouth like a cold whisper.

It was still early in the night, so there were many people and many cars roaming around. Hart wouldn't take a person right under their noses, so he must have something in mind. They were probably going to follow the person Riley picked until they were alone and out of sight.

They were driving around an almost empty park. He remembered it very well like it had been yesterday that he rode his bike along the many routes.

Blonde long hair, shiny as a ray of sun.

He noticed her right away, how couldn't he? Fiona, his sister. It was her, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest as he tried to stay as calm as possible. But his breathing was heavy and he looked like he was about to pass out.

She was the only person around, so he was pretty sure Hart saw her. She was on the sidewalk, going in the same direction as them. It seemed surreal to have her this close to him. He missed her so much and he thought about her everyday, wondering how she was coping with his disappearance. Did she blame herself? Was she looking for him? Did she give up and accepted that he was gone?

“Take a left,” Riley quickly told him.

Without hesitation, he listened. They drove away from Fiona and Riley avoided looking at the side mirror, for the fear that he would break down and cry.

“Riley, we can't be here all day,” Hart told him after half an hour passed.

“Him.” He pointed out in front of him, at a man who was close to the road, mindlessly texting without paying attention to anything else. He looked like a challenge and Riley wanted to give Hart a hard time. He didn't want to make it easy for him.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Instead of waiting until the man was out of sight, Hart drove up right next to him, got out of his car and it was anything but a challenge. He grabbed the guy's head, slammed it hard against the car and punched him in the face. The man went down instantly.

Hart opened up the backseat and shoved the man inside effortlessly. He then threw the cellphone into a nearby bush and got inside the car again, driving away as if nothing had happened.

“Tie his hands together with the cord under your seat and tape his mouth,” Hart ordered him.

Sighing, he reached under the seat and found a cable cord and duct tape. He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed to the backseat to look less suspicious in case somebody saw them. He kept the man below window level as he tied his hands together. The man was bleeding from the side of his head and his cheek was already bruising. He ripped a piece of tape out and pressed it to the man's mouth, now realizing how young he looked. Another unnoticed sigh and not a single word from Hart until they were out of Bellumstone.

“Come to the front,” Hart told him, eying him on the rear view mirror.

Riley obeyed and went to the front seat, not bothering to buckle his seat belt since they were out in the middle of nowhere again, away from all civilization.

“Are you going to make me watch?” Riley asked quietly.

“No. You can do whatever you want,” he said.

Whatever he wanted? Well, now that he had seen Fiona, he wanted to go home. He never thought how hard it would be to see her again. He never even imagined he would. But seeing her just made his heart ache. What was she doing outside at night? Looking for him? If he could have anything, he would want her to stop searching for him, because what she would find instead was something he would never wish upon anyone.

Hart.

**********

They brought the stranger inside, who was still soundlessly unconscious. Every few moments he would twitch randomly, giving them the impression that he was having a nightmare. If only he knew he was about to wake up to a real one.

Riley secured all the doors and windows, double checked each one and then went to Hart's room. He shut the door as Hart did what he did in the basement and waited to hear the first scream. But it never came. Riley laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling for more than an hour.

No screaming? That was a first. Unless he hadn't started yet, unless Hart was delaying the whole thing. It could be possible, he'd done it before many times. He did it to Maeve. It was giving them a chance, even though he know the actual chances of them escaping were none. He wanted them to believe they had a chance. So their lives were literally held by dice.

He was curious to see if he was right, so he got out of bed and left the bedroom. It was very quiet as he marched down the stairs, only the sound of his footsteps being heard. All of the lights were off and it seemed colder than usual.

There was no light coming from the basement door, which worried Riley. Were they not down there? Could they be outside? Was . . . was Hart chasing the man? Was he actually a challenge?

He turned back, thinking of going outside, but then he saw the front door was still locked. Then they must still be in the basement, or even the dark room.

Riley stood in front of the basement door, contemplating on whether he should actually go down. Hart could get very angry if Riley interfered in any way, like giving the victim some kind of hope.

He grabbed the door knob and twisted it. He swallowed nervously when he pushed the door open and darkness stared at him. Carefully, while holding on to the walls, he walked down the stairs in total blindness.

When he took the final step, the lights turned on. They were very dim, like if the bulbs were about to die. But it was enough to see that Hart was right there, his hand holding the man's chin as his lips were pressed against other lips.

The stranger was hanging from the wall, his eyes full of fear as clear cuts on his chest bled. He had been tortured already. Not enough that he would die or suffer great amount of pain, but enough to leave a mark.

“Hart . . . what are you doing? Why . . . why are you kissing him?” Riley said.

Hart pulled away at the sound of his voice, turned his head to look at him and said nothing. His hand was still on the stranger's chin, infuriating Riley even more.

“I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!” Riley screamed at him, his fists tightening at his sides.

Still no answer. Was he purposely doing it to make Riley angry? To push his limits and see how far he would go? Maybe Hart knew how he wanted to push him, so he was doing the same.

The stranger whimpered in the midst of silence. Hart's attention was drawn by the shaky breaths, so he turned his head and leaned in closer, like he was . . . about to . . . kiss him . . . again.

No.

Everything happened fast, yet so slow. Riley's fist turned white as it wrapped around the appearing dagger. He flashed beside them and thrust the dagger into the stranger's heart over and over while screaming at Hart, “STOP! STOP! STOP!”

Hart, emotionless, stepped back. His face was blank, but Riley knew that inside he was just as angry. He just killed the victim, the victim Hart was supposed to kill himself. And there was nothing in this world that angered Hart more than when Riley interfered.

“You do not get to yell at me,” Hart began, pulling Riley by the shirt and dragging him away from the lifeless body on the wall, “you do not give me orders, and you will not kill unless I tell you to.”

The dark room opened and Riley was pushed inside.

“You will learn not to underestimate me,” Hart said as the door closed.

Hart immediately turned around to take care of the mess that Riley had done, but everything was going to have to wait because in front of him was Riley himself.

“Oh, I don't think so. It's you who should learn not to underestimate me,” Riley said as he walked towards him. “Maybe it's time to give you a little taste of your own medicine.”

Riley kicked him in the chest, forcing him to stumble back against the door of the dark room. Hart was slowly showing signs of resistance, so Riley grabbed him and teleported them inside the dark room.

“There's a new boss,” Riley said, and then he was gone, leaving Hart in complete darkness.

____________________________________

[Author's Message]: So . . . originally this chapter was called A Little Insane, then I changed it to Insanity, but in the end I picked There's A New Boss because it makes more sense to me. The next chapter was actually supposed to be called There's A New Boss but I made some changes and I have reduced the story by one chapter, meaning there are now only TWO chapters left before it's over. Chapter twelve is called A Game Of Truth or Pain and the last chapter is called The Last Sacrifice. GASP? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? SACRIFICE? WHAT??? Anyway ... I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it's not long but it doesn't matter cause there's a part two and it's even longer than part one so hush lol. Please, PLEASE, support the story by voting and leaving comments (especially if you want a chapter dedicated to you) because I will be entering this story on the Watty Awards. Share it with your friends and family! (LOL, DON'T LMAO)

So . . . how about that ending? ;)