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You can start nominating on June 8th-June 22nd!

Make sure to go follow @PTXFanficAwards and nominate this story this Friday on June 8th in the Scomiche category!

It would mean the world to me if we can get this book nominated and on the voting round :)

**

"What are you doing here?" Nel asks Mike as he walks towards his office.

"I've gotta work, Nel." Mike says continuing to walk to his office.

"Rent an office." She spats.

"We don't have to money, Nel."

Mike sigh and holds his hands together.

"I promise, I'll leave right after my last patient."

"I don't want you here. You brought this on yourself."

Mike sighs again and leans against the kitchen sink.

"You're right. And you're angry. If you violated our marriage right in front of me, I'd be furious. But I need a place to work, Nel. We need the money." Mike says.

Nel shakes her head. "I'm finding it really hard to look at your face. 'Cause I really, really, really want to bash it in. I find you disgusting and disappointing as a man. And we're gonna end this marriage, and we're gonna sell this house, and I'll let you be  a father to our kids because I happen to think you're a good one, but I'm not gonna be your friend. I will merely tolerate you. And you can see your patients in the house, but I want you to leave after your last session of the day."

With that, Nel walks out of the kitchen to another room in the house far away from Mike leaving him with his thoughts and his own guilt.

**

Mitch goes to his bathroom and pulls out his razors to self harm when he has these bad flashes in his head of things he wants to do to himself, but could never bring himself to do.

So he puts the razors back into the small bag and puts the bag back under the sink.

"Are you scared now?" Scott asks.

Mitch turns around to see Scott, but he disappeared.

**

"Urban legends?" Mike asks.

"Uh, urban legends...they, uh, they terrify me. Lately it's gotten so bad I can't even function." Shane says.

"When you say urban legends-"

"All of them. Bloody Mary, Candyman, Lady in White." Shane says.

"Children's ghost stories."

"When I was younger, my brothers would tell them to me, hold me down, force me to listen to them."

"Older brothers can be mean."

"They were younger."

The small smile on Mike's face just drops when he hears that Shane's younger brothers were the ones picking on him.

"I see." Mike says writing in his notes.

"Nothing else scares me. Terrorism, disease, violent crime, crashing economy. Just these stories that I know are utter bullshit. I'm paralyzed, Doctor. I can't maintain a relationship. What girl wants to screw a grown man who has to sleep with his lights on? Speaking of sleep, I can't. I don't. I binge eat. I smoke like a fish. Lately, it's gotten a lot worse. I must look terrible. I haven't had the courage to look in a mirror in the last week." Shane rambles on.

"Why is that?" Mike asks.

Shane sighs and looks up at Mike.

"Piggy Man."

"Piggy Man? I don't think I heard that one before." Mike says.

"Oh, God. It's, uh, It's terrifying. Okay, the story goes, um, he was a hog butcher in Chicago during the World's Fair of 1893. And before he would go into the slaughter pen, he would put on this mask, this pig mask that he'd made form one of his other kills. And he would snort, you know, like a pig. Make them think he was one of them. Then one day he slipped, and fell. The pigs, hogs, tore him apart. And they didn't find one piece of him anywhere. So everyone assumed. Because not too long after, his former customers, they started turning up dead. Gutted, skinned, and hung upside down in a bathtub to drain like a hog in his shop. And they say if you stand in front of a mirror and say...'Here, piggy pig-pig,' that he'll return for the slaughter." Shane explains.

Mike takes a deep breath and asks further about the urban legend.

"And have you tried that?" Mike asks.

Shane just stares at Mike for a moment and thinks of the myth in his head again and what might happen if he does it.

"No. But there's something inside of me that's afraid that I might. And that scares the hell out of me." Shane explains.

"We're gonna get to the root of what this is. I promise you." Mike says pointing at Shane.

Shane nods his head and looks at the floor while he plays with his hands nervously.

"I want to see you again, uh, Wednesday at 3pm, all right?" Mike asks.

"Sure." Shane says.

"In the meantime, I want you to shave."

"In a mirror?"

"Can you try, Mr.Dawson?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Good. Call me if you need me." Mike says.

They both get up and shake each others hands bidding their goodbyes for the day.

"Thank you very much." Shane says before walking out of Mike's office.

Mike then starts to think about the urban legend himself, when Mitch comes in taking him from his thoughts.

"Dad?" Mitch says.

"Hey son." He says.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. It's all my fault." Mitch says.

"What? No, no, no, son. Your mom and I both love you very much. It's never gonna change." Mike says hugging his son.

"It's the darkness. It has me." Mitch says.

"I have you. Son, I have you. I have you."