Edgar slouched onto the sofa. He tapped his foot anxiously against the carpeted, crimson floor. The record spun slowly, the needle dancing on top of it. Finally, a song began, slowly building. He recognized it almost instantly because he had heard it over a hundred times: "Is There Life on Mars?" by David Bowie. The tender playing of the piano sent shivers down his spine. It wasn't a personal song of Edgar's, nothing close to his own heart, but it had belonged to him, it was his song, his soul.

"Phillip..." Edgar murmured though no one would have heard him anyway.

Suddenly the lights dimmed, the bulb above him exploding with a loud pop. Edgar was consumed in darkness. He stood, hurriedly scanning the room, listening for any sound. A dim light shined against the wall, illuminating a structure that hadn't been there before. It seemed so distant, on a wall that far extended the original perimeter of the room.

Ahead of him was a tall pile of old televisions stacked on top of another neatly. A thick tangle of wires spread out from their backs, leading out into the darkness. Edgar slowly approached them, looking at the strange structure from all angles.

In the middle of the structure, a single Tv turned on. Waves of images flickered through the static until they were finally solid. It was from a person's point of view, eye level, and bobbing with each uncertain step. Someone was walking up a forest trail, pale bandages stretched over their knees. The person peered upward and ahead of them was a waving figure.

"Hey!" the voice of a child called happily from up the hill.

Edgar drew close to the screen, encased in its pale, glowing light. Now the person was hunched over, holding a frog that croaked irritably. "Wow! He's so big!" the child giggled off-screen. The Tv changed channels with a wave of static, new images warping onto the screen.

This time the children were older, on a playground. For the first time, the camera had a clear view of the boy. He had shaggy black hair that shimmered with color like an oil spill. His eyes were the color of the sky after a storm, a hopeful blue. He was staring into the camera with a terrified expression.

"Why did you do that?" he asked in a voice that meant to sound angry, but was lathered in worry.

"They were teasing you-" a voice began from behind the camera.

"But you got all beat up!" sobbed the black-haired boy. Gently, a hand reached out from the corner of the screen, cradling the boy's face.

"It was worth it." hummed the voice warmly.

The Tv moved to the next channel, this time the boys were even older, matured. The black-haired boy stared down at the screen, eyes trembling.

"Well? Say something...please..." he asked, his voice quivering, desperate.

"Sorry, I was just surprised..." the voice chuckled softly from behind the camera. "Me too. I love you too." The black-haired boy broke into a joyous laugh, kissing him, then laughing more. A door creaked open and the black-hair boy spun around, yelling something. The Tv flickered off. There was a pause, Edgar scanning the silent, black screen. His heart pounded against his ribcage as if it were trying to break free from his chest.

Suddenly, every screen flickered on, depicting the same image: this time the black-haired boy was sitting in an unfamiliar room, his clothing drenched from the rain.

"What?" the voice asked in disbelief.

"He kicked me out." the black-haired boy said thickly.

"But-we haven't-" the voice stuttered.

"It doesn't matter. He saw all he needed to see." the black-haired boy snarled. "Plus, it shouldn't be my fault, we shouldn't have to hide what we are! If he can't accept that then-'' The black-haired boy started to cry. The screen moved closer, two hands reaching out around the boy, pulling him close.

"Let's run away together." the voice said, the words echoing in Edgar's ear.

"W-What?" the black-haired boy asked, pushing away.

"I don't have anything keeping me here, and neither do you." the voice explained. "Let's go somewhere far away, somewhere we can be together."

"Edgar..." the black-haired boy spoke tenderly. The image warped into static. Edgar stared into the blur of black and white, engulfed by its loud hum.

It began to move. The static began to stretch out from the screen in waves. A hand began to form, grasping out toward him. It touched the side of his face, burning hot with electricity. Despite its heat, Edgar couldn't seem to stop himself from leaning into the palm, the momentary caress. His eyes swam with tears, running down his face and dripping from his chin. Eventually, the pain caused him to flench, retreating away from the hand hurriedly. He laid, curled on the floor, covering his eyes-his ears, anything that could bring him back to reality. But suddenly the floor beneath him had turned soft, and the hum of static was gone. He opened his eyes, and realized he was back in the room, the door held open ajar.

He stepped out into the hallway where Oren and Jackie were already waiting for him. Standing beside them was a tall, lean man with a deer's head. Oren had already informed Edgar of The Deer, but the shock of his sudden appearance was still just as surprising. The Deer peered up from his gold watch and mumbled, "You took much longer than the other two. My time is not something that should be wasted."

"Sorry?" Edgar said, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"Now..." The Deer began, taking a step forward, his hands folded behind his back. "Are you aware of why you were brought here?" he asked.

Everyone simply stared, shaking their heads weakly.

"This was meant to be a trap, a threat, exploiting your weaknesses. But why would such a deity go to such lengths? Why not just send out another horrid monster? It's because you three have made it further than anyone ever has, and you're getting close to the Genus."

"Genus?" Oren inquired.

"The heart of this place, where your only way of escape resides." The Deer explained.

"Really? We're almost out of here?" Jackie said excitedly, bouncing on her heels. "I cannot wait to take a shower! This place smells so weird."

"Well, you may or may not get the chance." The Deer sighed. "This is your fork in the road. You have been given the choice to either turn back, to return to your old lives, to what you have been shown..." The Deer gestured back toward the rooms. "...or you may trudge forward into the unknown."

Oren gleamed at Jackie, nudging her gently.

"We've made it this far," he said.

"Might as well see it to the end." Jackie finished.

All eyes turned to Edgar.

"...I can't let you kids wander this wasteland alone." he sighed reluctantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

As Jackie and Oren went toward the door, The Deer stopped Edgar in his tracks, placing a hand against his chest. "You two wait outside," he said cooly, Jackie and Oren stepping out the door hesitantly. The Deer glared up at Edgar with its dark, almond eyes.

"The others have made great progress." The Deer spoke slowly. "Their hearts are strong, and there is a great possibility they may actually defeat the Crow King."

"Crow King?" Edgar repeated. The Deer snorted, gripping Edgar's shirt collar and lifting him up onto the heels of his boots.

"Inside you, there is a rot!" The Deer yelled. "You have been here the longest and yet you have not learned anything. You wander and fight aimlessly!" His eyes shifted, peering back toward the open rooms. "You want to go back there, don't you?" he asked cooly.

Edgar's eyes flashed toward the open doors, then hurriedly back forward.

"Have you really learned nothing?" The Deer asked, almost sadly. "There is nothing waiting for you back there. Nothing real."

Edgar shoved The Deer's hand away. "Your horns are going to poke my eye out," he mumbled, pushing forward.

"First off." The Deer snarled, grabbing Edgar's hand so tightly the bones almost bent. "They are my antlers. And secondly..." The Deer glared with such an intensity that it made Edgar tremble. "...I will not let you bring those children down into your darkness."

Edgar shook his hand free and left out the door, never unlocking eyes with The Deer.

"Hey man, you wanna do a quick interview? Seems like you have a lot to say." Bones asked from behind the counter, waving a pair of headphones. The Deer rolled his eyes, disappearing from the room, not in a puff of smoke or a shimmer of light, but simply ceasing to exist.

Bones shrugged, placing the headphones back onto his head.

"It's almost midnight here in-well, if this place had a name I would say it." Bones spoke soothingly into the microphone. "Whatever this place is called, I love it. Because you never know what will be behind the next door you open, or where the road may take you." Bones paused a moment, sighing deeply into the mic. "Some may say that this place is 'strange', or even 'scary', but why is that a bad thing? Being scared can be good. Even more so being thrown into something strange! We have to be reminded sometimes that we're alive, and that every day you've miraculously survived in a world where just about everything can kill you; that your life has essentially been a million little miracles. I think this place is trying to teach us all that lesson, one way or another."

Bone's voice sputtered from rusted speakers on the side of an abandoned gas station. It echoed through the fields, from a small radio on a bench. It came out of an old telephone on the floor of a farmhouse. His voice carried throughout the strange world.

Bones had never met or talked to anyone before that day. But he had still faithfully risen from his bed, put on his headphones, and spoke to the people of the place-with-no-name for years. He never knew if anyone was ever listening. He didn't care.