Maxwell

Only a few hours passed by after the altercation with the Convocation before we received a call from an inside source concerning Maxwell. The information we were given indicated that he was hiding out nearby, that the Convocation had been acting as a distraction away from his activities. We immediately resumed chase of the outlaw.

And we found him. He was hiding out in an abandoned apartment complex. Five units of agents gathered around the complex, effectively surrounding it. We had him cornered. But I did know that, yes, he could slip away anyway.

I went in first. Behind me, a single unit of agents, with three on standby for backup. We searched the complex by floor. It was on the fifth floor when we made contact.

Maxwell was standing in the hallway. He wore a typical prisoners outfit, except it was smeared with blood, dirt, and grime. His short blond hair had blood splotches in different places. His eyes had dark circles underneath, but his eyes seemed so focus and so aware. He had a devilish grin

One agent attempted to shoot him. Maxwell killed the agent from afar, somehow.

"Stand down, Maxwell!" I screamed as I held up my own gun.

He just laughed in our faces. I'll never forget that laugh.

The hallway exploded behind me. An entire unit killed in a single blast. I was knocked off my feet by the force of it. I fell to the floor in front of Maxwell.

Maxwell smiled, and picked me up.

"How's it been, Peteyboy?"

I spat blood in his face. He laughed and threw me down.

"SO I TAKE IT YOU'VE BEEN DOING WELL, HUH?"

He danced around in the dust drifting around from the explosion.

"How'd... how'd you do that, Maxwell..."

He knelt down in front of me. He was silent, and he made a serious face.

"...Magic."

And then he burst out laughing again. He fell to the floor, clutching his sides.

"Seriously, dude."

"Okay, okay, okay... I'm one of THEM, Peter."

"One of... //them//? You mean //them//??"

He spit on me and screamed.

"NO NOT ONE OF //them// YOU DOLT!! One of THEM!!!"

"Ohhhh. I totally know what you mean."

He got up and walked a few paces down the hallway.

"No you don't. But you will. Trust me. Especially you."

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know! I'm just following the script. And you should too, if you know what's good for you!"

He approached me, and picked me up.

"Where are we going, Maxwell?"

He smiled.

"Home."

A door opened in front of us and he smothered my face with his hand and I lost consciousness.

And then I awoke, with a severe headache and yet completely healed, on my own couch, at my home hundreds of miles away in New Jersey.

Come to find out, all five units that were deployed to capture Maxwell were gone. There weren't any bodies to recover. They were simply, gone.

What is going on?