Pleasance, Calif.
Second Pier; 2 miles north of Presence

Kassie Tom jotted her head around the docks. She looked around to see if this was the right place, and there was no other place that could be open.

“This building has to be it,” Kassie murmured, adjusting her clothes. She was wearing a very revealing top and short skirt bottom. “This plan better work…”

A foghorn blared out, and Kassie knew it was the place. She had remembered it when she and her ex-fiancé, Jake, took a camping trip. They bought firewood in this town.

As she approached the building, the signed showing it used to be a cannery. Her high-talon, red shoes clopped along the rickety docks of the second pier. She placed out her red-painted nails, then gently tapped on the door.

In the dirty metal door, she tried the see her makeup. She remembered applying it generously, and even adding a hairpiece.

“How’s there?” said a deep voice from behind the door.

Kassie immediately froze up, but she just needed to remind herself why she was there.

To save Noah.

“Me,” said Kassie, hoping everything would work.

“Who are you?” he demanded, opening the door. “Tell me!”

Tom Residence

Patrick Donavon opened the door to the house, and looked around. “Kass?” he called out. “You home? Your car’s gone!”

No answer. She had to have been out.

Patrick made his way across the hall, and his eye trailed along the wall. They stopped on the ceiling, where there was a bullet hole.

He shook his head, remembering the masked man’s attack on the house. And Robert’s treachery. It was so hard to believe a man they had been living with was working against them.

Entering the kitchen, he placed his journal on the counter and opened the fridge. He realized that groceries needed to be bought, but picked up a yogurt cup.

Beep, beep, beep!

The bleeping of his cell phone interrupted his snack. He pressed ‘Receive.’

“Hello?”

It was the police station. “We just got a lead in. The transcript of Waldo Wyndham’s – Remember? Darla’s doctor? – interview was just printed. He’s said some interesting things.”

Patrick stopped. “A lead?”

“Yes… Something that could bring us closer to finding Noah.”

Torres Residence

Adam King wasn’t getting a good vibe from Iris Torres. He had been trying to get close to her, but she’s just shy away from him. It seem like her.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Adam asked her. He came up to her, but she (once again) moved away. “Is there something wrong?”

Iris turned to him. “It’s your family. Your brother and father both explained why I shouldn’t be with you; they’re right.”

“No!” Adam cursed. “They’re both wrong. I don’t care about my family.”

“What about your previous girlfriend?”

“Macy?”

“Yes,” Iris rebuffed.

“She’s history.”

Bo came out of the kitchen, and stopped in front of the two youngsters (well, young compared to him). He was nibbling on a ham sandwich. “How’s everything?”

“Adam was just leaving,” Iris said bluntly, turning to him. “Right?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah. I’m going.” He headed for the door, looked back once, then continued on his way.

Bo came up to his daughter. “He’s going so soon? What did he need to do?”

“I just wasn’t feeling well, and he agreed to left me be.”

“That was kind of him,” he continued. “I’d have thought you’d fight for him to stay.”

Iris shrugged.

“You do still like him, right?” Bo asked.

“Maybe… maybe not…” Iris’ cryptic messages gave no real answers.

“Not sure?” he asked.

“Shut up!” Iris blasted. “God… I didn’t think one man could get so annoying in so little time.”

Surprised, Bo backed off. “Sorry… You didn’t have to be so crude.”

“I can be crude to a sick, heartless man like yourself—Sorry… I didn’t mean that,” Iris stuttered, covering her head.

Bo looked at her strangely. “You’re acting differently.”

“I just need a drink,” she stated. “Want to join me?”

Bo nodded, moving in front of her and slipping into the kitchen.

Staying behind, Iris tapped the back of her left hand with a finger, thinking. “I need to so something I have a long time ago…”

Evans Residence

Addy Evans got to the phone and quickly called up an important character. As she waited for an answer, she reflected over what a blast the revelation had been the night before.

“Hello?” came the voice.

“Brooke? It’s Addy.”

There was a pause, and then, “You! You manipulated me into getting them to watch it. I don’t appreciate that!”

Addy was confused. “Wait, wait, wait… You wrapped the tape up and was ready to have Gillian open it. Why not then? Why is it suddenly my fault?”

Brooke was caught. “Um… I wanted it to strengthen their relationship.”

“I don’t buy it,” Addy stated. “Gillian reacted badly to the tape. She doesn’t appreciate the real Giovanni. They can’t be together.”

“What are you thinking?” Brooke asked.

“If Giovanni won’t go out with me,” Addy started, “then why not with you?”

Gillian’s car

As she drove down the road, Gillian couldn’t help but feel strange. And she had a sneaking feeling that things were going to get much worse. That there could be forces beyond her mother at work trying to destroy her life.

Gillian along couldn’t help but think about Iris. She had acted out to her, but Gillian realized she should have stayed to support her. If she was indeed doing drugs, then she’d need all the help possible.

As the car continued it drive to her house, she wondered what her mother was up to.

Presence Shopping Mall

Addy Evans parked her car in the parking lot and quickly scampered into the Presence Shopping Mall. She was feeling festive, since Gillian’s relationship with Giovanni Pike was almost completely destroyed.

“I feel like… wine!” she said, walking through the mall. She looked from store to store and spotted The Wine Rack. It had bottles covering every square inch of the wall.

Within minutes she had purchased a semi-expensive selection and exited.

The bottle in hand, she decided to continue window-shopping. After a while, she realized there was nothing that interested her. She left bottle in hand. As she exited trough a different door, she made her way along the side of the mall.

“Miss?” came a raspy, female voice.

Addy turned briskly to see a woman, probably in her sixties, dressed down in a purple dress and golden hair-wrap. She resembled gypsies she’d seen in the movies. “Yes?”

The lady had a relaxed look to her, and she was aging well even though she had her share of wrinkles. “Would you care to see some things I’ve made?” She motioned with her long, purple-nailed finger, as if pulling her.

“Sorry, m’am,” Addy said, turning back around. “I don’t think I want to buy anything.”

“Buy?” she said, crooking her head over her shoulder to a small table set up on the side of the mall. “Why, everything I make I give away.”

Addy stared at her. “Do you make money at all?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to work a place like Natural Exposure, such as yourself. I have no need for money – or things for that matter. I just enjoy making things for others.”

Moving to her small table, Addy turned back to her. “You mean I can take anything I’d like?”

“Anything…” she said in response, floating past her taking stand behind the table.

Addy looked over the items. “What is your name?”

“Cassandra.”

“That’s a nice name,” Addy said, looking at the selection of vases, bowls and cups. “These are all very nice.”

Cassandra observed Addy. “You know, I get a feeling from you. I know the perfect item for a woman like yourself.”

“You do?” Addy questioned, interested in this odd woman. “What?”

Cassandra reached under her table, and pulled out a crystal hand. It was a stunning piece of a life-size hand, pointing to the sky. All the fingers were outstretched, showing amazing craftsmanship. “This is yours.”

Addy gasped. “You made this? It is beautiful. It must be worth a fortune.”

The lady shook her head. “I have no need of it. I found it on a trip to India. A Hindu woman who sold it to me said that it held the power to grant wishes. I haven’t tries it myself, but I know you could use it.”

Addy took the crystal item in her hands. It felt cool to her touch. “Thank you.” Addy turn around and continued her trek to her car. She turned back around. “Where can I—”

She wasn’t there.

“Odd,” she thought, turning back around.

Consuelos Residence

Mateo Consuelos felt edgy. He was searching around Skye Lore’s room for evidence of her baby’s father. He thought she’d come in at any moment.

“She must have a diary, or something…” he muttered, rummaging through papers and books. He finally stopped and thought. “Where would I keep something I didn’t want to be found?”

Mateo shot his head to the bed. Walking over, he locked his eyes of the pillow. He tipped it over, and saw a leather-back book.

“Jackpot!” he announced quietly. He picked it up and observed it. It had an ancient look to it; like it was worth a lot. On the cover was a language he didn’t understand.

Without thinking, he opened the first page. It was dated was back to the first few days she had been staying at his house last March. It was pretty simple stuff. He continued, and when he kept reading, he saw some entries that surprised him.

            October 16, 2000,

“Guess what? That pest, Dean, finally broke under the pressure! After finally testing my powers to their fullest potential, I’ve still got it. Poor Mateo has no clue. But I have plans for him. BIG plans.”

Mateo hadn’t realized this. He remembered his brother, Dean, being hauled away by the police. And he was sent to a mental institution.

Skye was the cause.

And Father McMurdy was right.

He continued to search through the pages, and spotted another interesting entry.

            December 16, 2000,

“Guess what – again? My plan worked. I actually got Mateo to come with me to the ocean. For a minute there, I thought that pest Brianna would make him run away. (Note to self: destroy her.) But he was foolish enough to stay, and now he’s mine. He’s got the possession, just like me. Just like it should be.”

Mateo became slightly dizzy, knowing he had been lied to and kept from the truth. He was living with a very dangerous woman – and she was pregnant.

“With what?” he asked himself. He quickly flipped to the final entry.

He finished reading it, and slammed it shut.

Along Mystique Road

Skye Lore had gone out for a brisk walk, trying to get all her thoughts straight. She kept remembering speaking with Brianna, and she hoped she wasn’t dead yet. She decided she’d need to speak with her soon. Just not yet.

Suddenly, she felt a tremor. A shivering up her spine. She pushed her dark hair back, and turned around. There was no one.

“This is a strange feeling…” Skye though. “Good for me… Bad for everyone else.”

It was the first time something evil was happening – and it was out of her control. Completely. Obviously she wasn’t wreaking enough havoc. Or Maybe since Mateo’s demon – her superior – has been ejected from his body, he was planning another attack.

“That’s it,” she thought, approaching Mateo’s house. “A subtle evil to be released on the town.”

Skye knew what was going to happen, and she couldn’t help but smile. It was going to be a great new year, and she wanted to see it all happen!

King Estate

Julian and Constance King both greeted Mitchell Mathison at the door of the King Estate mansion. He had brown/blonde hair that was worn down to his ears. It waved at the front, drooping over his forehead.

“Come in,” Constance urged, trying not to sound overeager.

He did, but said nothing.

“How was your trip?” Julian asked, motioning for Muriel and Henderson to come. “Was the ride from Colorado long?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

Julian pointed to Mitchell’s bags, so both Muriel and Henderson picked them up and began carrying them to the room.

“Sorry about being unable to pick you up,” Constance said, trying to break the ice. “We were busy readying the house. Was the limo good?”

No answer. He didn’t seem to smile, but Constance could tell he was still upset over his mother and father’s deaths.

“Surely it was better than a taxi,” Julian said, laughing. “Those are disease boxes on wheels.”

“Where is my room?” Mitchell spoke, in a strong voice.

Constance wanted to talk to him, Julian sensed it, and cut in. “It is in the west wing. Just followed that hall and…”

John King was sitting in his room. He had Iris on his mind, and couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever manage to get he away from Adam.

“For grandfather’s sake,” he said aloud. He looked over to see Lincoln King’s portrait on his mantle.

He looked at his watch and realized that Mitchell was arriving as he spoke.

Evans Residence

Addy got inside the house and closed the door. She quickly brought the wine and the crystal hand to the kitchen.

“What an odd thing to make,” she wondered, observing the piece. It felt wonderfully cool on her hands.

The words Cassandra spoke resonated in her head. The fact she could make wishes, and they’d come true, intrigued her.

“It’s silly,” Addy said, pushing it off. “That lady was a few eggs short of a full basket.”

Even as Addy tried to focus on uncorking the wine, the uncertainty was killing her. She couldn’t help but be curious. She quickly went back and sat down at a table with the crystal. She placed her hands on the object.

She cleared her throat. “Ok… now, what do I want?” Addy looked to the wine bottle, and thought of how uncertain it was that her celebration would last forever. “Hand, I wish that Gillian will loose faith in Giovanni. Can you do that?”

Addy removed her hand. She waited for an explosion or a sign.

Nothing.

She reached back down to touch it. When she did, she instantly recoiled her hand.

“Ow!” she said, grabbing her finger. “That damn thing burned me!”

Before she got up, she looked at the figure and gasped. She looked in horror as the hands gently waved goodbye to her. It was a slow, creepy wave. As if stopped, its hand froze back into its original position. Except on thing had changed.

Its pointer finger, which had been pointing upwards, had curled down.

Presence Apartment: Brooke

Brooke Wright thought about Addy telling her that she had a thing for Giovanni. Could it be true? Could the reason that she had kept the tape for so long have been because she wanted him?

Before she could think again, she got up and grabbed a bottle of wine from her cabinet. She exited her apartment.

Her eyes glazed over, she headed down to pay Giovanni a visit.

Gillian’s car

Besides Iris, the other person Gillian thought of was Giovanni. She remembered Iris’ previous advice, saying that she should follow her heart.

Having a slight change of heart, Gillian decided to pay Giovanni a visit and get his story on the video.

King Estate

Mitchell walked down the hall of the west wing, and saw his bags pilled at the door. He turned the knob, and it opened to a room even he was surprised to see.

“Like it?” came John’s voice from the adjoining room.

“Who’s there?” Mitchell asked, dragging a big inside.

John popped his head through the adjoining door. “I’m the resident son of Mister and Miss Big Honcho,” he introduced. “I’d be John.”

“I’m Mitchell,” he said expressionless.

John came through his room and to the door. He picked up a bag and helped him with it. “How old are you?”

Mitchell stopped, but answered. “I’m fifteen, going on sixteen,” he responded.

“A man!” John said, setting the bag down. “Man, you’re in the best years of your life. I can teach you how to get women… everything.”

Mitchell looked intrigued, and sat down on the couch beside him. “Really?”

“My man, you’re going to experience to perks of being rich.”

In the guesthouse, Adam arrived. He couldn’t believe how different Iris felt to him – to everyone. She was definitely on drugs, in his mind.

Within minutes, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!”

With that, Henderson popped his head through. “Master, Adam. Mister Mitchell Mathison has arrived.”

“Ah… my cousin,” Adam deduced. “The poor kid; loosing his family like that. I only hope my parents know what they’re getting into…”

Constance was panicking. “Julian… This kid clearly hates us!”

“Now, now, now,” Julian said, feeling strange since he was comforting his wife. “He just got here. He’s getting used to the surroundings. And don’t forget he could be down. His parents did die, you know. Your brother.”

She nodded, but didn’t relax. “I mean, he’s going to be so distant.”

“Whatever happens,” Julian began, “all that’s sure is that this kid will become a true King. He may have only your brother’s blood, but it will become ours.”

Just then, Constance got a shiver. She could only wonder what Julian would do…

Torres Residence

Iris came over to Bo and handed him a drink of orange juice. He took it and began sipping. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Iris said, moving to the phone. “I just need to make a short call.” Before she could pick up the phone, it rang. She picked it up.

“Iris?” came Adam’s voice.

“What do you want?”

There was a pause. “Remember what Gillian said earlier?”

Iris sighed. “What about it?”

“I’m thinking that it is very possible. Drug can make people act out. I just want you to know I can help you.”

“You done?” Iris asked.

“Yes, but—”

Iris hung up. She turned to her father. “Telemarketer.”

Bo nodded. “They’re annoying.” He felt his head, feeling slightly dizzy.

As Iris fished around in the phonebook beside the phone, Bo couldn’t help but think about his meeting in the alley the night before. Could they have done something to Iris? Had they scared her, or spoken to her? Maybe that was why she was acting out.

Iris found the phone number. She picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello?… Could I speak to John?… No, no I don’t… Well, say it’s Iris calling… Thank you…” She waited on the line for a few seconds before she was greeted.

“Iris?” came the voice of John. “I didn’t think you’d call.”

“I’d like to take you up on that drink you offered me a while back,” Iris responded smoothly.

“Really?” John said, surprised. “Isn’t Adam there?”

“Nope… I just called me from the guesthouse… He was here, though…”

“Okay, then… Well… You can come over right now… We have a guest, but a second is always welcome.”

Iris agreed, and hung up.

“Who was that?” Bo asked, groggy. “What John?”

“King,” Iris responded.

Bo seemed too tired to argue. “This was an interesting drink…”

“I made it myself,” she responded. “Ever heard of benzonoxodial dextorite?”

Bo shook his head, but his head fell limp and he crashed onto the table, unconscious. He lay completely still.

“Well, that was the secret ingredient…” she said, leaving. “That should teach you for ruining my life since the accident.”

She picked up her purse, and casually left.

Tom Residence

“Who are you?!” the man repeated. He was Colin, the man that Robert had visited earlier on.

“You don’t know?” Kassie said, sounding confident. “You boss sent me.”

“My boss?”

Kassie wondered if he even had a boss. “Yes.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. “What are you, exactly?”

She smiled at him coyly. “He didn’t say anything? I’m bonus pay.”

“Bonus?” he asked, motioning for her to come in. “In what way?”

She stepped inside, and was greeted by a drab place. A sole couch, and table with papers and a few pieces of furniture.

She primped her breasts, and winked at him. “What other pay could I be?”

He finally cue in. “Oh… Well, I guess this will make my job a lot easier. You here for long?”

“As long as you want me,” Kassie responded, looking around the room. “A drab place you’ve got here.”

He shrugged. “It suits my purpose.”

Kassie turned to him, and saw him sitting down at a couch. “What name would a man like you have?” She shifted over to the couch and sat down.

“Colin.”

She licked her lips provocatively. “Mmm. It is such an innocent sounding name, but you look bad. And this place looks a little odd. Why are you doing here?”

“Nothing,” he responded. “I can’t divulge that information.”

Kassie was disappointed. “That’s okay. I’m here for one reason only…”

Shifting up close to him, she moved her hands through his curly blonde hair. As soon as he was touching her, Kassie wondered if she could really keep up with unexpected turns in her plan…

Tom Residence

“What did Doctor Wyndham say?” Patrick demanded from the officer on the other end of the phone.

“He was present during the terrible commotion at your house,” the officer rebuffed. “And he saw something.”

“What?”

“The perp’s car,” he answered. “It was a white, ’94 Volkswagen Jetta. We are currently running a search for all cars matching that description in the area.”

Patrick smiled. “That’s great. Keep me informed on any new leads.”

 “Can do.” The conversation ended at the sound of the dial tone.

Consuelos Residence

Mateo stayed in the kitchen once he heard Skye enter the house. He was preparing a late lunch, and paid no attention to her.

 “Mateo?” Skye called out, coming inside. She picked up a clip from the coffee table and inserted it into her hair. “Where are you?”

He didn’t answer. He continued to fry his potatoes in the pan.

Skye, meanwhile, picked up the newspaper and read some of the major headlines. “Listen to this: ‘3 die in boating accident.’ Isn’t that horrible?”

Mateo didn’t answer.

Skye put down the paper and stepped into the kitchen. “Why are you being silent all of the sudden? I guess you should be after waking from a coma.”

“I wasn’t in a coma,” Mateo said simply. “That was a lie.”

Skye looked at him. “Of course you were! What else could account for your memory?”

“I was possessed,” he said turning around. “Just like you.”

“Possessed?” Skye laughed, picking up a glass. “That’s crazy. You’re starting to take after your brother.”

“Only if you’re involved,” Mateo retorted, approaching her. “I know you did that to him. You purposely drove him mad.”

Skye backed away. “What are you talking about? Maybe you should go back to the hospital—”

“No!” Mateo yelled. “I shouldn’t. The only mistake I made was rescuing you from the ocean last March! I should have left you.”

Skye shook her head. “No…”

“You’re nothing more than a possessed, evil being. I would kill you if I didn’t believe there was an actually person underneath you! And that’s what’s killing me.”

Skye stopped. “Please… You’re scaring me…”

Mateo shook his head. “You know damn well you could knock me down with your strength. Why shouldn’t I hit you down right now? Tell me!”

“Because I’m pregnant,” she responded. “You know that. Whatever you think of me or want to do to me, don’t harm my baby.”

“I’ve got a newsflash about that baby,” Mateo said coldly.

“What?” Skye asked.

“I know who the father is.”

Skye froze. “Who?”

“Me.”

St. Peter’s Catholic Church

Brianna Huber had managed to sleep, but every time she woke up she thought she could get up and walk around. But each time she did get up, she’d hit her head and the terror would start again.

She touched the phone, and hoped – for the first time – Skye would call. She’d do anything to get out and see light again.

But Skye was probably going to leave her there.

To die.

Brianna then got a hold of the two pills Skye had left for her. One would put her to sleep for a long while, and keep her alive till someone came, and the other would kill her.

Feeling them both, she wanted desperately to test her luck…