PART 1- THE WHY William "Tell" Thompson was a rebel by nature. It coursed through his body like a fire that would never go out. It burned eternal, like the flame of Olympus. He joined the NAVY, not out of patriotism, although he did believe wholeheartedly in the beauty, truth and also the hypocrisy of the United States of America. He was a man of a certain type of attribute: perseverance. He was born and raised in a small town on Lake Erie by the name of Huron. Situated on the bank of Lake Erie, a literal stones throw from the Canadian border. He loved the water. Lived for the water. Worshipped the water. Huron was a tourist town, no more than 20 miles from the most famous theme park in the world, Cedar Point. He wasn't born into wealth, quite the opposite. He grew up with limited money, second hand clothes and was made aware of his stature at every turn through school. He met and married his Highschool sweetheart. AJ Selby. Love was at first sight and they were married as soon as they graduated. His Father had passed away at a young age, of course because of the dreaded "C" word, and his mother never fully recovered. She took her own life when he was 18. She walked into the frigid, frozen waters of the lake, and her body was never discovered. Tell drowned his sorrow in typical fashion: heroin, alcohol, cocaine and as many fights as he could get into. He didn't care if he won or lost, he just wanted to feel the pain, to know he was alive. Because of the love, grace and unflinching determination of his wife, he was able to pull out of it, and before long they were the parents of a beautiful baby girl. They named her Leo, because she was born on August 17th and was as fierce as a little Lion. The joy of father hood and because of the responsibility of his little Lion, he decided he would join the NAVY. He scored ridiculously high on the ASFAB, with exceptional high scores on diving. At this time the NAVY was launching experiments in saturation diving, a type of deep water extreme diving duration under ridiculously high pressure exposure and quite deadly. Tell signed up without a second thought, and before long was shipped to San Diego.

Prologue My mother was the kindest, gentlest most loving graceful woman to ever set foot on the face of this earth. Now I know that a lot of people feel that way about their mothers or fathers, however mine was truly exceptional. I grew up in an extremely physically, mentally, emotionally and psychologicaly abusive home for about four years. My paternal father spent more than 30 years of his life in prison for multiple crimes. That side of my family were coyotes and drug dealers. Real gangsters. My mother divorced my father when I was four and dated quite a few men. My mother was beautiful. The true kind of beauty that comes from the soul and heart. She had to beat them off with a stick. When I was eight years old, she married a man from Oklahoma, who was a Green Beret in the Vietnam War. The kind of guy they sent out to take out battalions alone. The kind of guy that had ear necklaces. He was covered in tattoos on every part of his body except his hands and above his neck. He even had a tattoo on the inside of his lip. At some point in the marriage, he changed drastically and began to beat my mother unmercifully. And he did the same to me, when mom couldn't stop him. What he did to me mostly was psychological abuse. He would tell me I was worthless and a bastard and no one loved me or wanted me, pretty much on a daily basis. When he would abuse me, my mother would turn into a demon from hell to protect me. No lie, her fearlessness and selflessness saved my life many times. I'm telling you this about her and I and Johnny because I want you, the reader, to understand that this sleep paralysis nightmare I had recently, was easily one of the most terrifying dreams I've ever had. I never remember my dreams. I don't know if it's from all the cannabis I injest, or if I just don't remember them. This is the nightmare. The Hell I fell asleep about 1130. I took some melatonin to try and get some good rest. I never take it, so I don't know if it had something to do with it.

Christy Rd Part two A year had passed since Hard Copy had first aired the footage. They had it on constant rotation the whole time. The episode grew into a three part expose: exposing the aldermans cheating, stealing, lying and manipulation of an "innocent" married woman. A woman who had been taken advantage of by a man of power and influence. They showed reruns of it constantly. So much so that there was not one single person in Fremont who had not seen the episode. Not one. Not one adult. Not one teenager. Not one child. Not one teeny tiny itty bitty baby. Not one cat. Not one dog. Not one cow. And most certainly, most certainly not one colleague. His wife, who through the graciousness of her beautiful heart, had forgiven him. People make mistakes and find different ways to relieve stress, she thought. And she knew that woman. That whore. She'd been eye fucking her husband for years and had finally got what she wanted from him. She finally got the attention she so desired. So much so that she was willing to ruin a family, a man's life and his career. Granted, the embezzlement was something else entirely. She wasn't naive. She knew the extras came from somewhere. Don't ask, don't tell, she thought. Like the military. When she would see her crying on TV about how she had made a mistake( a mistake she had made multiple, multiple times) and had been taken advantage of by a man she admired, it made her throw up in her mouth. The alderman was someone she just couldn't say no to. Who could?, she said. His wife forgave and she accepted his heartfelt apology. His son did not. It was mortifying for him. A senior in highschool, it was received by his peers as a mixture of manly, testosterone driven coolness and also seen as a warning to them. An apple doesn't fall far from the tree. And of course he could never get away from it. It was on TV at home. At friend's houses. At bars. In the lobby at the mall. It was the lesson of the sermons for churches for fucks sake.

Christy Rd Part one Down at the end of Christy Rd, the cars tail lights gleamed red as a stoplight. There was a streetlight, barely illuminating the green road sign bearing the name of said road. The smoke from the tailpipe, hung in the air, thick, slowly wafting up in the air. The headlights pierced the fog like the light of a fictional Jesus, cutting through the filth of sin. The car rocked back and forth, violently, rhythmically as two lovers fucked in the back seat. Passionately,aggressively, almost like they were proving something. Like they were trying to draw forth their youth through their sex. Like if they fucked hard enough, long enough and came like the Niagra Falls, they could somehow age backwards in time. What they didn't know. What they couldn't have known. And what they damn sure couldn't have seen, was the red light, far in the distance, hidden in the trees, a camera recording their sex. The man behind the camera, the owner of that part of the road, had had enough of this shit. These goddamn kids, he thought. I'm so sick of these kids fucking on my property. He zoomed in more. He recognized that face. It was the alderman. Sure as shit, it sure was. He quickly shifted to the license plate. More evidence, he thought. He knew he was married. How long has he been doing this? Who was it with? Why here? After another 15 min and after an excruciatingly loud orgasm, the car stopped moving. They both got out and straightened themselves up, still being recorded, the voyeur getting more footage . The alderman was a man of prestige. Honor. Integrity. How could he do this? As he continued to film, they kissed more, laughed and hugged. They got in the car and drove away. The voyeur zoomed in on them, following their exit, recording their escape. The dust and the tail lights making an eerie color, that somehow fit the machinations of what had transpired. Six weeks later, when the first airing of the video tape that had been taken that night, aired on Hard Copy, on national television, the alderman had no clue it was coming.

Myrtle Fenwick had lived on his Father's farm his entire life. When the old man croaked and his young wife had cleaned out most of the money, Myrtle was the inheritor of the farm, all the hogs, the old D10 pickup and all the equipment. The farm wasn't anything to write home about. Little over ten acres and almost exclusively a hog farm, there was a horse and a donkey, a couple chickens and some corn and beans in the back forty. The hogs were beasts. They were loud, dirty and talked to him in a terrifying voice inside his head. "Kill that woman Myrtle!! Then bring her to us so we can feast!!" "Don't worry Myrtle, the horned God rules over all!! He wants you to continue your work. He's very pleased, however....WE....WANT....MORE....FLESH" Sometime in late July 1941, a man and woman pulled onto Myrtles farm. This was unexpected, however it was pleasantly unexpected. The hogs had been screaming in his head for days. Screaming so loud that he couldn't hear his own thoughts. So loud and constant, that he hadn't slept in weeks. The only thing that would shut those goddamn hogs up is the flesh and pain they ingest and distribute. He had to feed them and this couple would do nicely. When they got out of their old Ford pickup, the first thing they noticed was the smell. The sweet rotten smell of death. As much as they tried to ignore it, it was overwhelming. Honestly, overwhelming is an understatement. It was as if there was death all around them. Myrtle came out of the farmhouse when they got out of their car. The woman, tall, dark and quite beautiful caught Myrtles attention right away. "Now that is one handsome woman!", Myrtle thought to himself. "Maybe I can play with her before I feed her to the hogs? Maybe they would let me?" The man got out of the truck and looked around in disgust. The smell was absolutely horrible, they just needed some water for themselves and the truck and they would be back on the road in no time. Deal with the smell because he has no choice, get the water and get the fuck out of here, he thought to himself.