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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 5317125" data-attributes="member: 3285">In Media Res: ConclusionMorowitz had the dream again about his sister.&nbsp; He learned to love and hate the dream at the same time, yearning for closeness with the only relative he ever really knew but loathing the inevitable pain that came with it. But this time a man in the suit was there.&nbsp; His sister was gone. &quot;Wow, now this is one interesting dream.&quot;&nbsp; He walked over, only partially visible through the leather mask Morowitz was wearing.&nbsp; &quot;That can't be comfortable. Is it?&quot;Morowitz shook his head.&quot;Here.&quot;&nbsp; The man took the mask off of Morowitz, then released his other bindings so he was no longer strapped to the chair. &quot;That's better.&quot;&nbsp; He was very tan, sleekly handsome, impeccably dressed.&nbsp; &quot;Are you going to hurt me?&quot; Morowitz rubbed his wrists. &quot;Hurt you? Oh I should think not!&quot;&nbsp; The man pulled up his own chair and sat down across from him.&nbsp; &quot;I'm here to recruit you.&quot;&quot;Recruit me?&quot; squeaked Morowitz.&nbsp; He was still a twelve-year-old boy in his dreams. &quot;Who ARE you?&quot;The man smirked.&nbsp; &quot;You can call me…The Opener of the Way. Way for short. I suppose you could call me The Opener…&quot; he mused, &quot;but really that's a little weird, don't you think?&quot;&quot;Uh.&nbsp; Yeah.&nbsp; So, recruit me for what?&quot;&quot;Well now that's a really good question.&nbsp; What are you good at?&quot;Morowitz shrugged. &quot;I know what you're good at,&quot; said Way.&nbsp; &quot;See, right now you're just a scrawny punk who has a really weird sister with a pain fetish. But when you grow up…&quot; Way's eyes lit up.&nbsp; &quot;You're going to be huge! And nobody will ever threaten you again. What do you think of that idea buddy?&quot;Morowitz liked that idea very much and said so.&quot;Good.&nbsp; Well now there's a little thing you need to do. There's a storm brewing, something fierce.&nbsp; It's the beginning of a change of times.&quot;&nbsp; Way smiled.&nbsp; &quot;My kind of times.&nbsp; With the storm is a flood, and that flood is going to reach right here – not right here, of course, but the other here, where you're sleeping right now, in Liberty Center.&nbsp; They're going to move you, and when they do, you're going to take the guard hostage.&nbsp; Can you do that?&quot;&quot;Sure.&quot;&quot;Good, good. I won't lie to you…what comes next is pretty nasty.&nbsp; Are you up for it?&quot;Morowitz swallowed hard.&nbsp; &quot;I…I think so.&quot;Way smiled. &quot;I've been chatting with several of your fellow inmates, but I like you most of all, pal.&quot;&nbsp; He patted Morowitz on the shoulder.&nbsp; &quot;Some of your other friends…well let's just say they're better-suited to the other stuff.&nbsp; You know – shooting people in cold blood, slicing off tongues, that sort of thing. But you, you've got a rough kind of morals that I admire.&nbsp; I don't have any, myself.&nbsp; Morals, that is.&quot;&nbsp; He smiled again, like he had made a really funny joke. Way reached over and painted something on the wall across from the chair that Morowitz sat in.&nbsp; He did it with just his thumb, but it smelled like the coppery scent of blood.&quot;All you have to do is paint this.&quot;&nbsp; Way pointed at the blot. &quot;And then, if you're smart enough and you're strong enough and just ruthless enough, you have to remember who you are.&nbsp; And if you do that, you and you alone will be my most loyal servant in the end times. Can you do that?&quot;Morowitz nodded vigorously.&nbsp; &quot;Yes!&quot; he said, eager to please.&quot;Good.&nbsp; Now wake up.&nbsp; You've got a prison to escape from.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="talien, post: 5317125, member: 3285"] [b]In Media Res: Conclusion[/b] Morowitz had the dream again about his sister. He learned to love and hate the dream at the same time, yearning for closeness with the only relative he ever really knew but loathing the inevitable pain that came with it. But this time a man in the suit was there. His sister was gone. "Wow, now this is one interesting dream." He walked over, only partially visible through the leather mask Morowitz was wearing. "That can't be comfortable. Is it?" Morowitz shook his head. "Here." The man took the mask off of Morowitz, then released his other bindings so he was no longer strapped to the chair. "That's better." He was very tan, sleekly handsome, impeccably dressed. "Are you going to hurt me?" Morowitz rubbed his wrists. "Hurt you? Oh I should think not!" The man pulled up his own chair and sat down across from him. "I'm here to recruit you." "Recruit me?" squeaked Morowitz. He was still a twelve-year-old boy in his dreams. "Who ARE you?" The man smirked. "You can call me…The Opener of the Way. Way for short. I suppose you could call me The Opener…" he mused, "but really that's a little weird, don't you think?" "Uh. Yeah. So, recruit me for what?" "Well now that's a really good question. What are you good at?" Morowitz shrugged. "I know what you're good at," said Way. "See, right now you're just a scrawny punk who has a really weird sister with a pain fetish. But when you grow up…" Way's eyes lit up. "You're going to be huge! And nobody will ever threaten you again. What do you think of that idea buddy?" Morowitz liked that idea very much and said so. "Good. Well now there's a little thing you need to do. There's a storm brewing, something fierce. It's the beginning of a change of times." Way smiled. "My kind of times. With the storm is a flood, and that flood is going to reach right here – not right here, of course, but the other here, where you're sleeping right now, in Liberty Center. They're going to move you, and when they do, you're going to take the guard hostage. Can you do that?" "Sure." "Good, good. I won't lie to you…what comes next is pretty nasty. Are you up for it?" Morowitz swallowed hard. "I…I think so." Way smiled. "I've been chatting with several of your fellow inmates, but I like you most of all, pal." He patted Morowitz on the shoulder. "Some of your other friends…well let's just say they're better-suited to the other stuff. You know – shooting people in cold blood, slicing off tongues, that sort of thing. But you, you've got a rough kind of morals that I admire. I don't have any, myself. Morals, that is." He smiled again, like he had made a really funny joke. Way reached over and painted something on the wall across from the chair that Morowitz sat in. He did it with just his thumb, but it smelled like the coppery scent of blood. "All you have to do is paint this." Way pointed at the blot. "And then, if you're smart enough and you're strong enough and just ruthless enough, you have to remember who you are. And if you do that, you and you alone will be my most loyal servant in the end times. Can you do that?" Morowitz nodded vigorously. "Yes!" he said, eager to please. "Good. Now wake up. You've got a prison to escape from." [/QUOTE]

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