Halloween had brought with it fog, which wasn't strange in and of itself, except for the way it was behaving. Henry didn't think much of it, knowing the island tended to behave in ways that amounted to varying degrees of fucked up, with a side of Jesus-Christ-bananas for good measure. It wasn't until he decided to cut through one instead of
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"Henry?"
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But no. This wasn't Pete. Henry would have felt Pete, and Pete was gone. This kid was... "Raylan?" What the fuck?
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He scrambles to his feet, not really dressed for the cold in raggy jeans and a cotton t-shirt, goosebumps already coming up on his arms. There's a baseball bat in his hand. The weight is familiar.
"This...is going to get bad, Henry."
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Then one step inside and she really did wish she hadn't done that. There were mirrors, mirrors everywhere and she looked so old. Old and ugly and segmented.
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And then he could sense someone else, someone who shouldn't have been there at all. She was close by, and she was afraid. "Sally?" Henry called out, frowning slightly, and went around the mirrors that were blocking his view to look for her.
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