It was chilly that night, the clock already struck midnight, the air still, unmoving; no wind to whisper of the deeds that had been done. The sky clear, the stars shining down, their unchanging patterns spread across the sky. The moon, a wanning gibbous, shown down on the sand, bringing a soft illumination to the area, an illumination that showed the life, yet at the same time did not scorch it out of existence as the desert sun so frolicked in doing. The street lamps long since stopped on this one particular road, where stood in the shadows a figure, a figure waiting, waiting, things growing clear in his mind.

     The figure was a man, wearing a thick nondescript jacket, and an unsettling gaze. He watched the door to a small building, best described as a shack as it's exterior was made from wood, with a sloped ceiling, with lots of mechanical equipment off to one side. Right next to it was a water tower, a water tower that supplied the whole town of Barken. The figure was soon joined by another similarly dressed figure though of a smaller stature and less foreboding demeanour.

     "What took you so long?" the first figure asked in hushed tones.

     "I thought I saw some something on Dinkel." the other explained, in equally soft tones.

     "Doesn't matter, only about ten minutes past midnight, let's see if he's in." the first said, walking boldly towards the shack across the street from them, stepping out of the dark. The second figure followed after, reaching into his jacket, putting his hand on the gun that was safely tucked in there for protection.

     The first figure stopped by the door, and felt the handle cautiously, not even standing directly in front of the door. The second had already pulled out his gun, and the two looked at each other, ready for whatever lied in wait for them. The first then yanked open the door, and they both swung into it, pointing their guns into the darkened interior.

     "Randy. Rick." A voice called out from the darkness, and both oriented themselves on the origin. There in the darkness, sat a figure, vaguely visible in the moonlight, who seemed completely passive. He made no move to stop them, and both Rick and Randy were puzzled by this. Rick felt along the back wall, and found the switch, turning it on.

     The room was small, with machinery set on one side, behind bullet proof containers which were locked with a padlock. In the centre was the body of a dog, skinned and eviscerated, the twenty-fifth victim. At the far end amongst the machinery sat a man, who was familiar to both of them, though it took them a minute to recognize him, as he had not been in Barken for six years. He was sitting in a chair, with the bullet proof glass opened out in front of him, no wonder he was so passive.

     "Elliot Engel." Randy finally said, amazed that this former sentry would be responsible for the deaths.

     Rick pulled out his cellular phone, and then dialled in a number. They heard a ringing emanating from Elliot, and he pulled his own phone out, and answered into it. "That was your second call. You have one call left."

     "Elliot." Randy asked. "Why are you doing this?"

     "Why do you think." Elliot replied.

     "If this is about the divorce I'm going to really be disappointed." Randy replied, his gun still trained on him, despite the obvious ineffectiveness it displayed.

     "That might have factored in somewhere along the line." Elliot replied. "Of course no matter what my reasons, it must be perfectly done, and I failed to injure either of that first time around, so sorry to leave you two out of it."

     "I'm flattered." Randy replied. Casually pointing to the body with his gun he asked, "Who is that?"

     "Harry Carello. Other than him, only Will Bryant was a dog tonight, but I didn't know where to find Will, I knew where Harry was though."

     "What did you do to Joe Beall?" Randy asked. "He was there in the police station."

     "Oh, Joe is alive, don't you fret about that." Elliot smiled. "I don't intend to kill anybody else from Barken, rest assured of that."

     "What is your ritual going to do?" Rick asked.

     "My ritual, why it's for every ones enjoyment. Don't worry it isn't going to negatively impact your lives, in fact nobody from Barken should suffer because of it. I told you I was Ole St. Nick. By Christmas morn, you will all know what my ritual will do."

     "I'm not in the mood for waiting, and I don't intend to let you leave this room alive." Randy told him.

     "Don't you still have so many questions to ask?" Elliot pointed out.

     "I have one." Rick pointed out. "Did you send that mail-bomb to Dr. Shishido?"

     "Of course, I didn't need him down here solving the case in two seconds like that professional you called in did. Is Harvey still alive? I really hated doing that, he was such a good friend."

     "He's alive, but barely." Rick mentioned.

     "Oh good." Elliot smiled. "I'd hate to be responsible for a death I didn't intend."

     "In a moment I'm going to be responsible for a death I do intend." Randy countered.

     "Are you threatening me Randy?" Elliot smirked. "If so, come get me, I'm not going to resist."

     Randy smelled a trap, and began to scan the room, to look for anything suspicious, but in his distraction, he saw out of the corner of his eye, Rick was moving forward. Randy swung about to pull Rick back, but he saw from the ceiling drop a canister. He looked down to Rick's legs, and saw that he had pulled taught a wire, a trip wire. As the gas erupted from the canister, and spread throughout the room, it then dawned on him just what Elliot had been employed in before he had ever come to Barken - the Special Forces.

     Will trotted into the police station that morning to find that Jenny was replacing folders in a file cabinet, it looked like there had been quite a mess strewn about the floor, and he could smell anger, and fear overwhelming him. He sniffed her, and she then hugged him around the neck, her eyes already wet with tears. "Oh, Will! They came here last night, they took Joe, and Harry, and now we can't find Rick, or Randy. Oh what have they done with Randy, where he could he be!"

     Will found being hugged like this quite surprising. He wasn't sure how to reciprocate, but then his canine instincts took over, and he began to lick her face, lapping up the tears. She hugged him some more, scratching him all over, petting him as she wept. Will found the sensations amazing comforting, and he couldn't believe the amount of calm they brought upon him. The problems of the world seemed so distant when he was being petted or scratched, something that had never been so when he was a human.

     She finally kissed him on the forehead, and then returned to filing the strewn folders. "Taylor is in the office, if you want to see him." she said as she wiped a tear out of her eye.

     Will ruffed at her, and then padded over into the main office. Taylor was sitting behind the desk quite uncomfortably, as his immobilized leg was sticking off to one side. He looked at Will, his face a little puzzled. "Is that you Will, I heard you became a sheep dog."

     Will waged his tail, which he had found was the international symbol for yes in Barken.

     Taylor nodded, and then spoke again, this time in more business-like tones. In fact Will surmised they were the most even measured tones that Taylor had spoke in a long time. "I sent Dr. Vermiclin up to Houston to pick up Davis, Budd, and Sparks. They should be back here in about an hour. Once they get back, we can find out the name of our killer, you know that they claim they will only tell Davis. It's amazing, even though the guy they are protecting just killed one of their own number, they still refuse to tell anybody but Davis. Something in this training program Davis has set up really screwed things up.

     "You're probably wondering what happened, right? Well, Joe was watching over this place last night. Sometime, don't know when, our killer came in here, took Joe out, and then trashed the place. Jenny's been working on that file cabinet for two hours now. That should tell you how bad it was. Then our guy went into the prison cells, and took Carello out, no sign of struggle nothing.

     "Well, like you predicted, we found Carello's body over in the maintenance shack for the water tower. I know Randy and Rick were supposed to be watching that thing, but no sign of them at all today. Nobody's seen them since last night, and they're not at home, we checked. That's the reason I'm here, Jenny called them first, and found they weren't home, so I'm next on the list. First time I ever got to sit in Davis's chair, if for only a few hours.

     "Oh, we also lost all the phones except the cellular ones. I was hoping you wouldn't mind it if we used yours for the time being. Rick was the only one of us on the force who had one, and we'll he's kind of missing at the moment." Taylor saw that Will wasn't about to object, so he continued. "Anyway, I was also wondering if you've tried to change back yet."

     Will sadly waved his tail. That had been the first thing he'd done in the morning, check to see if he could become human again. He couldn't even feel anything, it seemed as if he didn't know quite how to get back to human form, and it had only depressed him more. It wasn't that being a dog was bad in itself, in fact there seemed to be so much more to the world now, so many new ways to view it that made it come so much more alive; what was irking him was the fact that he changed into a dog right when this case was resolving itself. Of course, he was going to help bring this case to a resolution, no matter whether he did it as a dog or as a man, for he no longer could deny that he was now both.

     Both their trains of thought were interrupted when they heard somebody else tromping into the police station. Will turned and looked, and saw that it was Jason Kubelik, carrying the maps that they had given him the previous day in his arms. He laid them out on the ground, giving only a brief hello to the two of them. He seemed to have drawn all over several maps, the first being the ones that Ted had made, and the second two begin of even larger scale, the first of the state of Texas, and the second of the United States itself.

     "Whatcha got there?" Taylor asked.

     "I figured out Ted's system. This is all based off of the fractal recursive constant. Basically, he drew an image within an image."

     "A fractal?" Taylor asked.

     "A fractal is an object designed so that no matter what scale you look at it, it looks exactly the same." Jason explained.

     Taylor nodded, not really understanding though. Jason continued. "I drew the same pentagram on four different scales. The first is the one where the bodies were laid, and that determined the other three. The first Ted drew. The centre of this one is where the ritual is supposed to be taking place, at least that's what Ted thought, and I guess he was correct.

     "This third one marks something different, I don't know what. It covers most of Texas though, that I did establish. The fourth one is another mystery, but as you can see it takes up most of the western United States. We have points of the pentagram in not only Texas, but Arizona, New Mexico, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Indiana, and Ohio."

     "Why isn't there a fifth pentagram?" Taylor asked.

     "Well, I tried to draw it, but I found out that it is so large, that it overlaps itself. This fourth one is the largest possible."

     "Ted thought the centres meant something. What about for those other two, do you know what their centres are?" Taylor asked, and Will found it amazing, a he was asking very intelligent questions.

     "I don't know what they mean, but I did find out where they are. For the third pentagram, the centre is near Dallas/Fort Worth. For the fourth pentagram, the centre is in central Colorado. What and if they have anything to do with all this, I don't know." Jason admitted.

     Will nudged Jason, and Jason smiled at the sheep dog, and patted him on the head. "So your Will, huh? I remember the last time you were here, everybody else was stuck as a dog except you, now your the only one." Jason then realized what he said, and then dropped his head. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to be rude."

     Will licked his face, it was all right, he didn't mind. He knew the irony all too well, and it made him feel a little bit silly, took his mind off of the situation a bit. However, the more he looked at this whole thing, the more convinced he was that there was something going on here besides the ritual. Those eight other states had been the states where the Santa Claus case had been involved, as that had been where All For You had robbed those toy stores. So Colorado meant something, as did Dalls/Fort Worth.

     Will stepped on the centre of both of the maps that they were left in a quandary over. Jason looked at him, "Ya think there is some significance?"

     YES

     "Do you have any idea what it is?" Taylor asked looking at them with renewed interest.

     NO

     Taylor slouched back in Davis's seat. "I guess we'll have to wait for them to get back then."

     Jason nodded, and so did Will, who was rather frustrated now at the fact as a dog he had no vocal chords.

     His name was Tyler Goode. His name was Tyler Goode. His name was Tyler Goode. Oh what was the use of it! If he wasn't fed, then there was no point in his trying to resist or to maintain his own identity, for death would take all that away anyway. He slouched back in the cell, trying to overcome what he had been told. Harry was dead, that was a fact, and he could not escape it. Somebody had come in here and killed Harry, but he knew that was not true, Harry had been alive when he left the cell, and the building, afterwards, that was up in the air.

     Of course, it didn't matter much any more, as they had only been fed once since Davis had disappeared about a week ago, and that had been dog food. He'd lost count now, no longer did he remember how many times he'd been a dog, but at the moment it wasn't important any more, why should it ever have been in the first place? After all humans are animals, as are dogs, so what should it matter, after all he was still an animal, not outside the realms of physical existence in any of his engagings here. Being a dog certainly made life a bit more agogic if nothing else. He could no longer comprehend the rational behind the killing of Barkenites by the Cherriers, it was simply too horrible to think upon, murder, for it was wrong, a sin, and he had a lot to be forgiven; he was thankful that God was all-merciful.

     Just then he saw a figure stride down the hallway, and he could tell from the other two that they were similarly impressed by his appearance. Tyler pushed his face as far into the cell door as possible. There was a man that he thought he was never going to see again. It was Sheriff Pierre Davis. However he was altered, the right side of his face looked wrinkled, more like scar tissue than skin, and his left hand was similarly wrinkled. Davis's face was firm though, and they could see his determination in his tight lips, and burning eyes.

     He looked over the three of them, and he then spoke, his voice as clear as ever. "I am sorry I have been unable to be with you until now, but I must know something. I told you to list ten reasons why you should tell me the name of the man that escaped that night one year ago, you all supplied me with reasons of some merit, some better than others, but all were reasons nonetheless. Now I ask you, who escaped that night, who has been plaguing this peaceful town of Barken, mercilessly slaughtering us in the night. What is his name?"

     All three spoke of one voice, and without hesitation, for here was the only man they could tell with a clear conscious, though Tyler himself wondered at times why it would have been wrong to have told the others who had asked. "Elliot Engel."

     "Elliot." Davis said the name, thinking back on the one-time sentry who had served with them faithfully during the year he had lived in Barken, before leaving for Maine after divorcing his wife. That one piece of evidence, that name, would certainly fit the pieces together for them. Davis looked back at them and spoke reassuringly, almost as if a father to his children. "You will feast tonight, and it will certainly be the greatest thing that you have had in your stay here."

     With that he turned on his heel and left the jail cell, leaving the three alone again, their thoughts filled with food. Tyler sat back, glad to have finally gotten that name of his chest, glad to have made a contribution to a place that was ever so slowly claiming him as its own. Why fight it? There was no way he could go back to Cherry, and there was no way he would ever want to, now that he realized just what it was. Could he call Barken home yet? No, not yet, but some day he knew he would, and in that light he thought of his mantra that he repeated to himself to retain his sanity, and he knew that it was woefully out of date.

     He was Tyler Goode of Barken. He was Tyler Goode of Barken. He was Tyler Goode of Barken.

     Sheriff Pierre Davis returned to his office, and looked at the assembled crowd. Bill Budd was sitting in a wheel chair of to one side, with Olympia Sparks still a dog with a cast on her left hind leg sitting in his lap. Will was sitting on his haunches by Bill, investigating Olympia, who was pawing at him playfully. Jason and Joey Vermiclin were sitting on the other side of the room, next to the maps. Taylor had long since relinquished Davis's seat in preference for one near Bill Budd. Davis set himself down in his old seat, glad to be back in Barken finally.

     "Did they say?" Bill asked.

     "Elliot Engel." Davis said.

     "Elliot?" both Bill and Taylor say at nearly the same time. Neither of them had seen the man in such a long time, yet now they discover that he, their one time friend and comrade in arms, is the killer who had quite possibly paralysed Bill for life, most definitely scarred Pierre for life, and had killed four sentries, and one eventual convert, as well as twenty other dogs.

     "You know what." Bill added. "That sort of makes sense. From what we've been told, it fits now. This Elaine Smith, she must have been his psychiatrist. I remember that vividly, because Rick and I were called up as character witnesses in the trial where the judge sentenced him to a mental institution."

     "Where was the institution?" Joey asked.

     "Maine somewhere." Bill replied.

     "Bangor?" Joey prompted.

     "Yes, that's it." Bill Budd nodded. "He was real upset about the divorce. Claimed he couldn't stand to be separated from his soon to be kid."

     Taylor coughed a bit, and then added. "While you were picking them up Joey, I found something that might interest you all out. Joe sent Avery and Vance to the Engel place yesterday, it's the central location in the first map. Somebody found them this morning, they'd been gassed, as well as Stephanie Engel. Her son Stevie, is nowhere to be found."

     "Could he have done all this just to get Stevie back?" Jason seemed sceptical.

     "With the level of sophistication to this case." Davis put in. "I'd say not. I'd say that this ritual thing is dead serious. Perhaps he is just getting Stevie out of the area of effect."

     Will had a few ideas that would solidify their speculations, but he really lacked a voice to speak his mind, and writing was such a pain, as he had not had any time to practice it. He however knew that any further speculation on that subject would get them nowhere, so he brought the attention back to the subject he was interested in. Will paced over the maps, and found that they were all looking at him in short order.

     "What is it, Will. Is there something about the maps that we are forgetting?" Davis asked.

     Will placed his paws over the centres of the third and fourth maps, and Jason smiled. "He thinks we should discuss the significance of the central locations to the maps." Jason's speculation was met with swift wagging of the tail on Will's part. will found that the action of wagging his tail was quite pleasurable, and he rather enjoyed it. Despite the frustration of having to communicate complex ideas, he was beginning to really like being a dog.

     "Oh, what are they again?" Davis asked.

     "Dallas/Fort Worth on the third one, and somewhere in Colorado for the fourth one, no city name at the location, but it's near Denver." Jason replied.

     "So what could they be?" Taylor asked.

     "Perhaps if we knew the significance of the first two, we might better able to understand the others." Davis pointed out.

     Jason nodded, and then sighed. "The first one is the Engel home. The significance of that should be obvious. The second should be the location where the ritual is going to be performed. It is in the middle of the desert, nothing's near it."

     Bill Budd was scratching his chin when a thought occurred to him. "Well, the maps are a progression of sorts aren't they? So why not the central locations be as well. I say he was in the Engel home first, then he is now in this second location. I'd say before too much longer he's going to be in Dallas then in Colorado after that."

     "Plane Ticket!" Joey shouted. "He's going to catch a plane in Dallas to Denver."

     "Good idea you two." Davis nods. Then in a louder voice he called out, "Jenny!"

     "Yes, Sheriff Davis?" Jenny asked, standing in the doorway.

     "Call Dallas Regional Airport. See if there are any flights to Denver in the next week or so with a passenger named Elliot Engel. He should be flying with another person." Davis told her.

     "Might be a train." Jason pointed out.

     "Ah yes. Check to see if he is taking a train as well, no sense leaving anything out." Davis added.

     "I'll get right on it, I need a cellular phone though." Jenny pointed out.

     Davis tossed Will's phone to her. "Get to it, I don't want to spare another moment."

     "I will, Sheriff." Jenny smiled as she returned to her desk. Davis knew that her smile was because she was glad to have him back in town. He was glad to be back too.

     "Now." Davis said, returning to look at them all. "I say we head there as soon as possible. If he is catching a plane or train, I'll inform them that he is coming, and that he should be arrested on sight. But I want to catch this bastard myself. I don't think we should go there en masse, so it'll just be Will and I. There are other things we need to plan though before we go, I'm not leaving anything to chance this time."

     Each looked at each other then, each knowing that this was going to be a long day. Will wondered whether he would have been able to change back by the time they went in or not. However he got the impression from Davis that he was going to be planning on Will being a dog for the entire thing. This fact did not really make Will feel even the slightest bit better.

     Little Stevie Engel had dragged out several toys from the various chests that had been placed around the cushioned room. It was not the nicest room in the world, and it most certainly was not in the nicest place in the world. The entire place had a slight smelled of stinchee and peepee, though there had been an attempt at using an air freshener in at least this room. He got the impression that this place used to be a stable or something to that effect. Whatever it was, it didn't really matter to him, because he was not allowed to leave the room. In fact, he had been blindfolded by Nicholas when he had came here, as it was supposed to be a surprise for him. He had found himself in this room, and left here by Nicholas, who locked the door after him as he left. It was okay, because there were lots of toys to play with.

     Just then he heard the door open, and he saw that it was Nicholas coming in. Stevie jumped up from where he sat, and ran over to him, and hugged his leg. "Oh, Nicholas it's so good to see you again! Thank you so much for giving me all these toys! They're are so wonderful! Want to play with me? I'll show you how to play with them."

     Nicholas pried Stevie loose from his leg, and looked him square in the face. "I don't have time to play right now, Stevie, I'm busy preparing something for all your friends. Oh, and you don't need to call me Nicholas any more. Please call me Dad."

     "Dad?" Stevie looked confused.

     "That's right Stevie, I'm your father. I'm the man your mother divorced before you were born. I can't tell you how much I've missed you Stevie. I've come all this way, I've done so many things all across this country, and its all for you. I so wanted for you to be with me, so that I could raise you as my son."

     "Father?" Stevie asked again, then the words of his mommy came back to his ears. "Why did Mommy tell me to run away from you?"

     "Mommy thought I was a terrible man. She was wrong, I'm not a bad guy. Would a bad guy give you all these toys? Would a bad guy want to take you to a place where you'd always be happy?"

     Stevie looked at this man, recounting the horror stories his mother had laid down in his mind over the years about the demon that had been his father, and yet every one of them contradicted what he saw here. This was not a demon, this couldn't be a demon, this couldn't be a bad guy. Though there were a few doubts lingering back at the corner of his mind, why had he taken him from his mommy? Why had he locked him up herein this strange place?

     "I love you Stevie, I hope you would be my son." Nicholas told him.

     Stevie hugged the man that was his father. Those two lingering doubts chased form his mind for the moment, for here he was with a man who was before a pariah, and was now his father forevermore.