1.
	
	"And so you see class, here Romeo has fallen deeply in love with Juliet. 
He will sacrifice all to consummate his love for her... Shakespeare is a
strong believer in the power of fate over a relationship, therefore the
battle is by no means an easy one..."
	Stephen Bryson was beginning to fall asleep as he heard these words,
drifting into the netherworld just beyond consciousness.  Mr. Lowdon's words
were playing over and over in his head like a tape loop: "He will sacrifice
all to consummate his love for her..."
	Stephen was a stranger to love.  He had often dreamt of what it would be
like to fall for someone, a few times he had even been sucked into the
emotional whirlpool that is a teenage crush. But it never went beyond a mild
flirtation... quick to begin, and even faster to end.
	First, there was Kim.  His baby-sitter from the time he was two up until
the age of eight, she had an undeniable charisma which drew Stephen to her
like a moth to flame.  Stephen would anxiously await the nights his parents
were out and she was there.
	He would spend hours listening to her read him stories about knights in
shining armor rescuing damsels in distress.  Stephen would always remember
the way her eyes sparkled as she spoke, as if she was not merely
communicating but baring her soul.
	Stephen felt a lump in his throat as he recalled the day he found out
she was moving to Ontario:
	"But, Mom!  She can't move!  I... I... love her."  Stephen remembered
saying.
	His Mom inhaled deeply before replying, her eyes overflowing with
compassion:
	"Stephen, she has to move.  Her dad is being transferred.  You'll make
other friends... eventually, you will find someone to love."
	Stephen then stormed up to his room, his eyes stinging with acid-tears.
	He remembered having to say goodbye to Kim, barely able to speak.  She
tightly hugged him, looked at him and said:
	"Stephen, I'm sorry.  I have to go.  Just remember that you are a very
special person, and you will find someone to share your life with.  Just
like Prince Charming, you will find true love."
	With that, she kissed him softly on the cheek, and walked over to her
dad's car.  She opened the door and turned to look at Stephen one last time,
she then smiled at him... and was gone.

	As Stephen drifted further and further he thought about how unfulfilling
these infatuations were, and he imagined how utterly satisfying true love
could be.  He began to dream...
	Stephen felt a gentle breeze rifling through his hair, as he felt the
sensation of being suddenly swept off the ground.  He looked down, and to
his horror, he was twenty feet above his school building.  He could see the
recreational soup of gym supplies scattered along the roof; the discarded
soccer and basketballs, a few baseballs, even a bat or two.  To his left,
the flag flapped gently in the wind.  He could also see a bird's nest, the
mother in the process of regurging into the mouths of her young.
	Stephen was floating above the schoolyard now, the baseball diamond
below him... the faded paint on the bench, the half-worn pitcher's mound,
the grass a pale green.
	Another bird flew past him, turning to get a better glimpse of the human
being hovering in the air.  Stephen chuckled softly at the thought of the
bird telling his feathered friends about what it had just seen... and the
mocking looks it would receive:
	"A human.  You saw a human floating in midair.  How many people have
you seen with wings?  HAHAHAHA! Come on!"
	Stephen glided past the fence surrounding the schoolyard, over numerous
back yards, and past a gas station.  He was just beginning to enjoy the
birdlike sensations of flying wherever he wanted to go when he felt a
slight tug.  His body was being pulled back across the schoolyard by some
mysterious force.  Suddenly it stopped.  Stephen then realized he could not
move.  He was frozen in midair, directly above home base.
	For a few minutes Stephen just levitated there... looking like a balloon
rejected from the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade,  Then he felt another
pull, slightly stronger than the one before.  Stephen then felt himself
float towards the school again, disappointed by the short duration of his
flight.
	He was now ten feet above the roof of his school, and was slowly being
pulled down.  His feet reached the roof, moving through the concrete as if
it was not there.  He was sucked through the building as if through
quicksand.  He could see layers of concrete, miles and miles of electrical
wiring, and numerous heating ducts surrounding him as he proceeded downward.
	Stephen then found himself above his classmates, and he felt a strange
compulsion to wave.  The class ignored him, as did Mr. Lowdon, who
continued to discuss the star©crossed lovers he seemed so enamored with.  
	Stephen then looked downward as a scream caught in his throat.  Below
him, sleeping soundly, was Stephen Bryson.

	Stephen felt a strong pull, like the intense attraction of iron filings
to a magnet, as he flew back into his own body.  A strong sensation of
dizziness overpowered him.  He began to black out... the classroom was then
enveloped in a veil of darkness.
	"Michael Bossner please report to the Principal's office.  Michael
Bossner.  Thank you."


	2.
	
	"Stephen... Stephen... Wake up.  You'll be late for Phys Ed."
	As Stephen drifted slowly back into consciousness, he felt a gentle tap
on his shoulder and heard a soothing female voice.  It was her.  Allison
Moyers -- the most recent female he was infatuated with.
	She considered Stephen a close friend, someone to talk about girl
problems with... maybe even join her for a trip to the movies now and again. 
But little else, it seemed.  Stephen was becoming profoundly frustrated with
just being friends with her... yet he was scared shitless to admit his true
feelings.
	"What? Oh. Hi, Allison.  What's up?" Stephen sleepily inquired.
	"Steve, it's 10:30! Does that ring any bells?  I'll give you a clue.  We
both have to go to a huge room with basketball nets and funny markings on
the floor."
	"Oh shit! That's right! Mr. Smythe is going to kill us!  We better
run... can I walk you?"
	"Sure... maybe on the way you can tell me why you've been spending so
much time in Never©Never Land lately."

	As they walked briskly down the hall, Stephen couldn't help but stare at
her.  Her long, flowing chestnut©brown locks, her lithe figure, and her
budding teenage breasts.  Again he cursed himself for not being brave
enough to admit his true feelings to her.
	"Stephen... Are you all right?  You seem a million miles away again. Is
something bothering you?"
	"Huh?  No. I'm fine... just tired."
	They both entered the gymnasium, and headed for their respective change
rooms.  Inside the Boy's, the various cliques were discussing various girls,
bands, and movies.  The conversation seemed to center around the resident
school babe, Christina Miller.  The boys raved about how her breasts bounced
as she walked, how she managed to put on her jeans with the aid of power
tools, and whether she was a "good girl" or a "bad girl".  So far, the
consensus was sixty-forty in favor of bad.
	Stephen couldn't help but laugh.  Sure, she was nice to look at... she
never had a problem getting guys to hold her books.  She was only missing
one thing: a functioning brain.  Stephen felt a certain measure of
superiority over his peers when it came to choosing girls.  Allison, for
example.
	She was just developing the curves and essence that is a woman. 
Although she was only thirteen, it was unmistakable.  Give her about five or
six years... and she would be beautiful.  Stephen seemed to be one of the
few guys to notice this... as she wasn't exactly the most sought after girl
on campus -- like Chris was.
	Unlike Chris, however, Allison possessed intelligence.  She could recite
all the Canadian Prime Ministers back to MacDonald, could quote Shakespeare
almost verbatim, and floor Stephen with her remarkably dry, cutting wit.
	She was not a typical "brain", however, as she realized that there is
more to life than school.  She could be incredibly spontaneous... her
rebelliousness and curiosity always getting the best of her -- and Stephen.
	Stephen laughed as he recalled one time, about a year ago, when she had
decided they should explore a deserted apartment complex.  It was a rundown
mess -- boards with nails through them scattered around the foundation,
various bits of garbage strewn everywhere... In Allison's opinion, anyway,
a perfect place to spend a Saturday afternoon.
	She had convinced Stephen to climb on top of the building, and loudly
proclaim how much fun Allison was.  Stephen, being a naive twelve year old,
decided her idea was not so bad after all.  He carefully scaled the
building, using holes in the bricks and mortar as footholds, and finally
arrived on the roof.
	Looking down, Stephen gulped a mouthful of saliva as he realized he had
no way to get down.  Instead of bellowing how much fun Allison was being, he
decided to enlighten her to this fact:
	"Allison!  Can I ask you something?"  Stephen yelled.
	"Yeah?"
	"How the hell am I supposed to get back down?  Besides jumping and
breaking half of the bones in my body, that is." Stephen answered.
	Allison laughed at Stephen's predicament, her grin doing nothing for his
temper.
	"Hmmm.... ya got me there, Steve.  Well, gotta go.  It's almost supper
time!"  

	She began to walk away from the building towards home, grinning from ear
to ear.
	Great. Just great.  Where's a helicopter when you need one? thought
Stephen, feeling strangely like a cat stranded in a tree.
	Allison returned about twenty minutes later with a discarded mattress in
tow.  She walked over to the building, and placed the mattress on the
ground.
	"Stephen!  Look what I brought for you!"  Allison yelled.
	As Stephen looked down, his heart sank.  Apparently, Allison was under
the assumption he was quite mad.
	Maybe I am he thought as he leapt from the roof, sailing towards the
ground and the lifesaving mattress.  

	As he landed, Stephen glanced towards Allison... her eyes were sparkling
with joy.  Stephen also realized the mattress was sopping wet, a thin mist
flying out as he landed.
	Allison tapped him on the back good-naturedly, spraying water
everywhere.  She smiled and said:
	"So, Stephen.  Are we having fun yet?"
	Stephen sighed with frustration, shaking his head, and replied:
	"To be totally honest; yes, I think we are."
	
	
	3.
	
	"And there he was caught with his pants down in the middle of the
hallway!  Could you imagine having your dick duct-taped to a door?" said
Kirk J, the school tough-guy... his eyes wide as he recalled the incident.
	"Is that as bad as the initiation gets?" asked a curious student.
	"No... last year some guy was blindfolded and told to eat what he
thought was an O'Henry bar.  It turned out to be well-aged dog shit." Kirk
laughed as he watched his peers' faces turn sour with disgust.
	With growing curiosity, Stephen asked what the hell they were talking
about.
	"It's this gang that's recruiting new members from this school... they
call themselves 'Nocturnal Underground'.  Otherwise known as the 'Nocs.  You
thinkin' of joining up, man?"
	"Maybe.  What are they?   A bunch of Satanists or something?" Stephen
asked.
	"No.  They just have a very difficult initiation... tends to get rid of
the wimps and pussies.  The 'Nocs believe that only the strong can help them
achieve passage to the Underground."
	"Yeah... is that passage full of edible dog shit?" one student asked.

	Suddenly, Kirk grabbed the guy by the shirt, slamming him violently into
a locker.
	"Shut your fuckin' mouth, dickhead!  Unless you wanna end up like that
poor sod who didn't pass the last initiation." threatened Kirk.
	"No.  I'm sorry, man.  I was just joking."
	"Go find some place else to do your goddamn joking off!" Kirk roared, as
he grabbed the guy by the shirt again; this time throwing him against a
brick wall.
	"Friggin' asshole." Kirk muttered as he stormed out of the locker room.

	"Kirk!  Can I talk to you for a sec?" Stephen yelled.
	Kirk spun around, and walked towards him... his rage spilling off him in
waves.
	"Okay. Start talkin'." Kirk muttered.
	"Could you tell me about the guy that didn't pass initiation.  You know,
last year.  I'm considering joining up... and I want to know what I'm
getting into." Stephen said.
	"After you hear this, you may think twice, Steve-O.  Last year's
initiation involved diving off the school into the arms of other gang
members.  Kinda like glorified stage diving, ya know.
	So, this guy is standin' on top of the school... he's nervous, shittin'
bricks, the whole bit.  Well, he misjudged his jump.  Fuckin' hit the
flagpole... split his head wide open like a watermelon.  After he landed, it
was worse."
	"Jesus." whispered Steve.
	"The guy is in a wheelchair now.  Can't even wipe his own ass without
his nurse.  Personally, I'd rather be dead, ya know?"
	"Yeah."
	"So... ya still wanna join?  I'm recruiting guys for the East side."
	Stephen inhaled deeply before answering, his nerves alive with fear:
"Count me in.  I want to live in the 'Nocturnal Underground'".
	"I'll see ya after school... hope you're tough enough, man."
	With that, Kirk walked back to the center of the gym, where a basketball
game was beginning.
	
	(split his head open...)
	(hit the flagpole...)
	(rather be dead...)
	
	"What the hell am I getting myself into?" Stephen thought as he walked
towards the center of the gym.

	
	4.
	
	After the game, Stephen showered solemnly; keeping his eyes down.  He
was thinking again about what Kirk had said.  What exactly was passage to
the Underground?  Stephen sighed, knowing that he would find out in due
time.
	The image of the student plummeting to the ground after smacking his
head on the flagpole was burned into Stephen's vision as if it were a
light bulb he had stared at too long.  In super slo-mo', Stephen could
imagine the guy flying downward.  Obviously, he enjoyed the birdlike
sensations.  Must be why he screamed all the way down.
	For a split second, Stephen felt the impact... his body shuddering with
shock.  This was one of the cases where Stephen wished his imagination was
not so vivid.
	As he rinsed the shampoo from his hair, Stephen recalled countless times
where he could imagine an event so vividly that he felt as though he was
there  Ever since he was eight, starting about two weeks after Kim's
departure, he spent many hours daydreaming.
	He would imagine he was floating through a curtain of blackness... he
then found himself on a beach, next to a snowcapped mountain, maybe even a
quiet lakeside cabin.  His senses felt heightened, infinitely more aware
than normal.  He could smell the cool crisp mountain air, the salty tang of
sea water, and the indescribable scent of a forest after a spring rain.
	For Stephen, it was more than a dream.  He was free -- he could travel
anywhere, the only limits being his imagination.  

	After toweling off and dressing, Stephen walked across the gym to the
huge swinging doors outside of the cafeteria.  On the way, he spotted
Allison.  The sun was shimmering off her hair in waves of light, and
Stephen was helpless to do anything but stare.  
	"God, she's beautiful."  his mind whispered.
	"Hey! Allison!" he yelled.  She didn't seem to hear him the first time,
so he yelled again.

	He finally caught up to her, and tapped her on the shoulder.
	She turned slowly towards him, and Stephen could see fresh tracks of
tears down her cheeks, her eyes puffy from crying.  She bit her lower lip,
as she always did when she was nervous or depressed, and managed to whisper
"Hello." to him.
	"Allison.  What's wrong?  You want to find someplace to talk?" Stephen
carefully asked.
	"Please.  I really need someone to talk to." she shakily replied.
	
	Stephen walked Allison towards the back of the school, the usual spot
for serious conversation between the two.  The same spot where last year
Allison had consoled Stephen after his labrador retriever had been run over
by a garbage truck.
	Allison stared at the grass for what seemed like an eternity, summoning
the courage to pour out her heart to him.  She looked at her surroundings,
looked at Stephen, looked down again.  Stephen noticed she had begun to
shake, and he felt an intense compulsion to hold her.
	He tapped her gently on the shoulder, signaling that he wanted to give
her a hug.  She wrapped her arms tightly around him, and began to shed more
silent tears.  Allison never sobbed when upset.  She always suffered in
silence... the acid-tears the only clue she was upset -- besides the
shaking of course.
	Stephen gently stroked her hair and felt himself begin to get a hard on. 
He willed it back down... Allison didn't seem to notice.  She seemed
fascinated by a blade of grass she had picked up, staring at it as if it
would unlock the mysteries of the universe.
	"Allison... what's bothering you?" Stephen whispered.
	Allison's response sent chills down Stephen spine:
	"I... I... was raped last night." 

	Stephen inhaled shakily, gulped down a mouthful of saliva, and hugged
Allison very tightly.  His mind reeled with what had happened.  A thirteen
year old raped?  Stephen shook his head in disbelief.
	"Allison.  Please look at me.  I want you to tell me who did this to
you."
	Allison bit her lip again before answering, her voice quivering with
emotion:
	"My... father.  My... father did this to me."


	5.
	
	Stephen's mind was still reeling with the news.  How can you possibly
comfort someone after they have been violated -- especially if by someone
they should love, trust, and look up to?
	"Allison, can I ask you a question?  I know it may be very difficult for
you to answer, and I will understand if you choose not to."
	Stephen inhaled deeply before continuing: "Has your father done this to
you before?"
	Allison's nerve tremors had died down slightly before Stephen had asked
the question, but now they were beginning to act up again.  She continued to
avoid eye contact with him, choosing instead to closely inspect a blade of
grass.  For a split second, Stephen's eyes met hers.  She looked like a bear
cub caught in a claw-trap... crying for its mother to take the pain away.
	
	"He's... been doing this to me... for over t-two years."
	"Jesus.  Have you told anyone besides me?" Stephen asked quietly.
	"No.  I was too scared.  I can't live like this anymore, Stephen. 
Please help me."
	Stephen tightly hugged Allison, feeling the tremors and quakes of her
nerves, her words playing over and over in his mind:
	(...raped me last night...)
	(...father... two years...)
 
	After lunch hour was over, Stephen asked Allison to see the school
counselor.  It wasn't much, and Stephen wished to God he could do more.  The
image of Allison caught in a claw-trap -- crying, screaming for someone to
save her flashed over Stephen's vision.  In many ways, he was as helpless as
Allison.

	
	6.
	
	During his next class, Stephen spent very little time concentrating on
the teacher -- who usually kept him entertained through Science.  Mr. LaRose
was a highly charismatic, energetic man -- using humor and innovative
techniques to ease some of the tedium of learning.
	Today's class involved a scale model of a cave... complete with bats,
stalagmites, and, of course, Grog the typical cave©dweller.  The class burst
into laughter as Mr. LaRose began to imitate Grog's speech.
	In a deep bass growl, the teacher said: "ME GROG!  THIS MY CAVE!  I EAT
SLEEPING STUDENTS!  MMMM.... GOOD!"
	"Thank you, Grog.  Now can someone tell me what else I would find inside
a typical cave?  Stephen, how about you?"  Mr. LaRose asked.
	Stephen, who had missed most of the question, responded with "HUH?",
sending the class into another fit of laughter.
	"The question was 'What else would I find inside a typical cave?'  Any
ideas, Mr. Bryson?"
	"Well... stalagmites, stalactites, usually a good selection of various
natural minerals such as iron or zinc, as well as creatures that cope better
in darkness ©© such as bats." answered Stephen.
	"Very good.  Stephen is of course correct about the minerals.  Caves are
usually the first place miners and surveyors will find those and other
substances... even diamonds or gold if they are very lucky."
	
	Stephen began to daydream about Allison and what her father had done to
her.  He imagined the living hell she must be going through right now,
helpless to do anything for the past two years.
	He decided then he would get Allison to tell Kirk what had happened...
maybe he could help.  Stephen was reminded of today's initiation as he
thought about Kirk:

	(...only the strong...)
	(...passage to the Underground...)
	
	Stephen prayed he would pass and become a member of the 'Nocturnal
Underground'-- they would be able to help Allison.  
	Her sanity depended on it.
  
	
	7.

	During his next class, Stephen was a jumble of nerves.  His palms were
sweating, small tremors shook his fingers, and a small tic had developed
next to his left eye.  He couldn't get Allison off his mind, the image of
her cowering in front of her father while he unzipped his pants... laughing,
leering at her... the scent of liquor wafting towards her.  On top of that,
Stephen had the initiation to worry about.  
	Stephen glanced furtively at the clock.  3:45.  Fifteen minutes till
doomsday...

	Allison cried as she spoke to the counselor, recalling the hell her
father put her through for the past two years:
	"Ever since my mom died, he's had... a drinking problem.  He would get
violent and..." she began.
	"Go on." prompted the counselor, leaning forward in his chair
attentively.
	"Verbally abusive... The first time it happened I was only eleven.  I
didn't even know what he was doing.  I was screaming at him to stop... but
he wouldn't.  He was laughing!  The pain was intense... I felt like I was
being torn in half. He kept laughing... 
	After he was finished, I ran to the bathroom.  I hopped in the shower,
turned on the hot water... just stood there for what seemed hours.  I
scrubbed my skin raw trying to get his smell off me."
	She paused for a few seconds to stare at the wall, her lower lip
trembling: "I felt so... used.  So violated.  It was as if he had sucked all my
self esteem, my self worth from me.  I was no longer a child afterwards, my
innocence was gone forever..."
	The counselor rubbed his chin thoughtfully before speaking:
	"Allison... I don't know what to say.  Have you spoken to the police?"
	"No... I was too scared.  I felt if my dad found out, he would kill me. 
He is that violent, that abusive."  Allison replied.

	"I see.  Allison, thank you for speaking to me about this.  I know it
must be very difficult for you."
	"Yes.  The worst part is it's still going on.  He did it to me again
last night."
	"Allison.  You have to do something... why not stay with a friend for a
while?"  the counselor asked.
	"Okay... I will.  Could you call the police for me?  I would really
appreciate it."
	"Certainly.  In the meantime, Allison, stay as far away from that animal
as possible... and find a close friend, someone you can trust, to talk to. 
If you have any problems please call me.  
	"Yes.  Thank you."  Allison quietly replied.
	With that, she rose from her chair and headed for the door... 
	"Allison, one more thing.  This is only the first step on the long road
to recovery,  but you're off to a good start."
 

	
	8.

	(...Daddy's home, Allison!...)  (...Show me how much you love me...)

	Tears rolled down Allison's cheeks as she walked towards her locker,
flashbacks of her father's brutality tainting her vision.  She shook
uncontrollably as she sat beneath the locker, her head in her hands.  Her
skin crawled where he had touched her... muscles twitching as if to reject
her own skin.  A tidal wave of memories began to engulf her -- she was
helpless to do anything.  Except watch...
	
	"C'mon Alshion!  Sho' your daddee how mush you love him!"  as he grabbed
her shoulders violently, throwing her onto the bed.
	The sickening scent of stale liquor wafted towards Allison as she curled
into the fetal position... feeling as helpless as a newborn.  Soon his hands
would be all over her -- probing, exploring her most private areas.  His
hands ran over her chest; stopping to fondle her tender breasts.  They moved
downward...
	He roughly stroked her buttocks -- his hands eager to touch her sex. 
Allison moaned as he touched her -- not with pleasure, for this was the
furthest possible thing.  She moaned with disgust, and intense mental pain. 
Soon it would be physical as well.
	As he began to penetrate her, his prick feeling like cold steel, Allison
felt her sanity being hacked away -- piece by piece.  She realized he was
not only raping her body that night -- he was raping her innocence.
	
	Allison body trembled as she thought about the pain, the sickening
feeling of violation after he was finished with her.  Usually, she would
just sit in the bathroom and cry -- staring at herself in the mirror.
Sometimes, she would jump in the shower -- the hot water providing a little
comfort.  One time, she had become so desperate she had attempted to OD on
pills.  At the last moment, she put them back in the medicine cabinet...
disgusted with her own cowardice.
	Memories.  Drifting into her conscious like a wave towards shore.  And
slowly flowing back into the ocean of her mind...

	
	
	9.
	
	Stephen's heart hammered in his chest as he stood outside of the school,
waiting for Kirk to arrive.  He stared up into the sapphire jewel of a sky,
watching the birds above him.  They were beginning to fly south for the
winter.
	Winter.  The season of death.
	Stephen found no joy in that season, the short days and long, dark
nights doing nothing for him.  The bitter cold bit his flesh, the snow
melted and soggied his socks.  To put it simply, Stephen thought winter
sucked.
	By way of comparison, Stephen loved spring and summer.  The warm breezes
rifling through his air, the birds flitting between trees -- singing the
Ornithological Top Forty ©© the green grass like a carpet of velvet. 
Spring was the season of rebirth... and of love.
	Stephen smiled as he realized he always fell for girls during the
spring ©© Allison was no exception.  There was something in the air during
those few short months.  Warm weather seemed to be the ultimate
aphrodisiac.  
	And then there was Summer.  The lazy hazy days spent doing not much of
anything -- save for soaking up some rays while sipping a cool drink.  The
ghetto blasting with mindless party tunes... the small and big screens
filled with mindless programs.  It seemed everybody's brain had turned to
bubble gum.
	Fall was just plain depressing -- signaling the end of Summer (sigh!)
and the beginning of yet another school year.  The trees began to lose
leaves, as a middle-aged man loses hair; the emerald green of summer
replaced with a kaleidoscope of oranges, reds, and yellows.  The impending
winter could be felt in the autumn chill... hearkening the beginning of the
season of death.

	Stephen was so immersed in thought that he jumped as he felt a hand
tapping his shoulder.  He shook himself back into reality, and turned to see
who it was.
	Kirk.  His knowing smirk unsettling to say the least.  Kirk brushed a
lock of wayward hair from his eyes, took a drag of the Camel between his
lips, and spoke:
	"You all rehearsed, bud?  It's show time!"

	
	
	10.
	
	Stephen followed Kirk to a quiet corner of the schoolyard -- watching
him as Kirk walked over to the fence, climbed to the top and sat there.  He
looked like a wolf about to close its teeth over its prey... his eyes
sparkling with anticipation.
	Kirk took a last drag from the Camel, and flicked it effortlessly into
the grass.  The sly smile was still painted on his lips, like a hideous
omen.  He cracked his knuckles loudly, jumped down from his perch, and
began:
	"Stephen, do you remember what I said about this?  What the purpose is?"
	"Yes... you said it 'tends to get rid of the wimps and pussies'."
	"Exactly.  Hopefully you don't fit either description."

	With that, Kirk sat upon a patch of grass -- motioning for Stephen to
join him.  After a few moments, he did.  A little of Stephen's nervousness
had subsided... the horror of the upcoming initiation washed out in a sea of
unreality.  Stephen felt as if he was dreaming.
	Kirk's knowing smirk disappeared as he closed his eyes, psyching himself
up for what was to follow.  He inhaled deeply, slowly exhaling... and again. 
Kirk's eye's suddenly sprang open... sending Stephen's pounding heart into
his mouth.  Kirk smiled at Stephen's obvious shock.
	"It looks like they are ready to begin."
	"They?" Stephen asked.
	"Yes... they."

	"Stephen, I want you to concentrate.  Close your eyes now, and focus on
my words.  Eliminate all other thoughts from your mind." Kirk commanded.
	Stephen did as he was told, feeling himself slowly become more calm.  He
decreased his breathing to Kirk's slow rate -- feeling his tension seep out
of him as if it were blood through a wound.
	"Now.  You will trust me.  No matter what I do from this point onward,
you are to completely trust me.  Understand?" 
	"Yes." Stephen whispered.
	"Feel all tension, all thought flow from your mind.  Hear only the quiet
static of silence and the gentle rhythm of your breathing... Feel the
curtain of darkness envelope you... its velvet fingers caressing you.
Surrender to it, Stephen.  Allow the darkness to seep into your soul."
	Kirk closed his eyes at this point, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically
in perfect sync with Stephen's.  The darkness washed over his vision... as
if it were a tidal wave.
	"Look at the center of the blackness, Stephen.  Focus on it and nothing
else.  What do you see?"
	"Black.  Nothing but black."
	"Look deeper, Stephen. Concentrate."
	Stephen stared at the center of the darkness, focusing all thought on
one point.  At first, he saw nothing.  Then, a few moments later, he did see
something.  A part of the curtain was torn -- Stephen could see a reddish
light shining beyond.  The same shade as a light bulb dipped in blood.
	Stephen concentrated harder on the light, trying desperately to get a
better view.  Focusing all his thought on the one area, he felt himself
pulled closer to the center of the curtain.  Closer...
	Stephen's mind moved closer still to the light -- and dream©screamed at
what he saw.  Less than a foot in front of him was Allison's father.  He was
slicing through Allison's flesh as if through a loaf of bread.  Her blood
splattered everywhere... staining the overhanging light bulb like a lunatic's
inkblot.  Stephen could see Allison was already dead.  Yet her father
continued to cut her... the flesh separating like a cook slicing roast beef.
The light flashed off the knife one last time, and then the curtain closed.
	Stephen suddenly started awake, his heart thudding in his chest like a
drum solo.  Kirk's eye's slowly opened as well... focusing directly on
Stephen.

	With a look of utter confusion, Stephen asked what the hell just happened.
	"That, my friend, was the Nocturnal Underground.  A dreamscape made in
heaven... or, as you just witnessed, in hell.  Ready to join?"
	Stephen inhaled deeply before nodding his head... Kirk's ever-present
smirk doing nothing for his nerves.
	As Kirk's flashed a razor blade, Stephen's nervousness increased
tenfold.  Before Stephen could do anything, Kirk had grabbed his left arm
and rolled up his shirt.
	He plunged the razor into Stephen's arm and began to cut the flesh
open.  He sliced downward, diagonally right and upwards, and then down
again. As Stephen screamed in agony, Kirk continued to carve him up like a
Thanksgiving turkey...
	Next, he cut a diamond shape... feeling Stephen fruitlessly try to pull
his arm away.  The last cuts were the deepest.
	Diagonally down and left, down and right.  Diagonally left and down,
across, and diagonally again.  Kirk released Stephen's arm, reaching in his
jacket for a roll of bandages and some tape.  As the blood dried, Stephen
stared in horror at his new tattoo... biting his tongue to stifle another
scream.
	"Not as bad as being branded, yet just as effective.  Welcome to the
Nocturnal Underground, man.  You are one of us now -- and forever."
	With that, Kirk bent over and kissed Stephen's arm... the wet blood
staining his mouth like sadistic lipstick...
  	
 
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