Longest Nightmare

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Chapter 17

I had prayed that I would never have to see him again. I had prayed that I never would've had to deal with him. I had even prayed for this man's death. It had been so long apart of me wished I could have forgotten about him. That wasn't the case then...

I drove my bike at a constant pace but I was in no hurry to get where I was going. I didn't want to deal with it when Bridget brought it up at the office and I sure as hell didn't want to deal with it then. I did have a partner at one time, and he was my best friend Steven Wulfhaus.

Steven had been my best friend for years. Known each other since Elementary school and was one of the first people to know that I was Nightmare, we were practically brothers. At first when I became Nightmare he would just hound me for stories and always want to try on the costume. He covered for me one time or another when I needed it, so I indulged him here and there, little did I realize that it was more or less beginning to become more like crack to him. Soon enough, the stories weren't enough to satisfy him. He wanted to make his own stories, he wanted to fight his own bad guys and worst of all he wanted his own costume. He went that far and with some strange fascination with the Grim Reaper he took on the name of Scythe.

His costume was similar to mine, though his armor was bulkier and wore a cloak over it with a half mask designed as a fanged skull. He showed me the costume the day he finished it and I out and out called him crazy. I didn't want him out there and he had no reason to be, he argued the same to me but I remained firm on the subject. He remained firm as well however and despite my protests otherwise it didn't stop him.

I was out taking care of some low level enforcers for a local gang. One of them tried to run but Steven showed up and took the guy down for me, I was rather impressed by how he had done it too. I didn't let on that I was impressed and just called it a fluke and told him not to try it again. I tried to keep my stance, but so did he and he kept showing up everywhere I went. Soon it became common place for me and after a while it eventually became welcome. Stakeouts became more bearable at least.

Steven was good, a competent fighter in his own right despite the lack of training he got from a strip-mall McDojo. His costume also added the fear, I got scares with the more streamlined design we had made for him after I relented and popping up but his resembling death was a kicker to watch work. We went far when we worked together, did a lot of good and took down a lot of bad guys in the process.

It was that good that we did that kept me from noticing what was happening to him. As time went on he became darker. It started with getting shorter with suspects he even gave crippling injuries to suspects as well. He even started going out on his own at night even bragged to me about severing fingers of some bangers who had shot at him.

It all came to a head one night however. A night that as I drove through the streets out of the city that flooded my mind. The night Scythe did the unthinkable.

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