one, then I’ll radio it in from the van.”

“Uh...” Ryan faltered. “Why don’t you radio first? The other two aren’t...well, they aren’t going

anywhere.”

Before the paramedic could reply, Sammy interrupted. “What happened to Pete then? Is he in there

with that nut Fizz?” He gestured at the pigeon loft’s door.

“Sammy, don’t –” But Ryan wasn’t quick enough. The paramedics wanted to check what was going

on. Ryan had to admit, if his face looked half as guilty as he felt, he wouldn’t have trusted him either.

He moved aside for the paramedics as they marched to the pigeon loft. They opened the door with

ease.

Ryan peered after them warily. Everything looked normal now, but he knew in his gut that it

wasn’t.

Sammy nudged Matt. “What happened?” he hissed.

“Not now,” Matt whispered back, staying put.

Ryan couldn’t let the paramedics go alone. He followed them into the pigeon loft, with one last

glance at Ginger on the floor. I’ll make this right, he promised silently. I will.

The paramedics rushed into Fizz’s room. Ryan walked after them, half expecting what he would

see, but he was still shocked when he saw the scene. Pete was motionless on the floor, just as Matt had

described. He looked as though he’d collapsed there. Fizz sat next to him, hunched over like he had

trouble holding himself up.

“What happened?” the man asked, rushing to Fizz’s side.

Fizz looked up, eyes wide and pleading. “Help me?” He held out his arms.

Ryan watched as the man held out his hand. Fizz gripped onto him, and the man crumpled to the

floor. “Greg!” The woman, who had stopped to crouch beside Pete, rushed over to her partner. Fizz

touched her shoulder as she neared him. She gasped, then fell over in a heap. She lay on the

floorboards as lifeless as the two men before her.

Ryan stepped forward. He felt sick, frightened, but he knew this had to stop. “Who are you?” he

demanded. “Why are you doing this?”

Fizz grinned up at him. “Questions, questions.” With a flick of his hand, his body rose jerkily from

the floor, like a puppet yanked on its strings. He leant back in what seemed like a seat, except there

was nothing there.

This couldn’t be real, Ryan thought, yet it was happening right before his eyes. Everything felt so

wrong. From every move Fizz made, to the look on his face, it felt wrong. Ryan stared, trying to

distinguish between what he was seeing now, and the boy he’d come to know as Fizz.

“Who are you?”

“A bad dream, nothing more.” The boy fixed his dark eyes on Ryan; a black mist began to seep out

of them.

Ryan started back in alarm. “What – what have you done to Fizz?”

“Mmmm. My dear Ryan.” The boy closed his eyes and stretched his body out, reclining in the air.

“There’s so much space inside him, you see. I’m merely making better use of it.”

“B-better use?”

“Why, yes.” Those eyes opened, fixed on him, and the black vapour poured out. “As soon as I have

enough energy, I’ll leave this place, never to return. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“A-and Fizz?”

“Fizz is me, now.” The voice grew dark. Ryan felt the room darken with it. Trails of blood trickled

down the walls, and the stench of sulphur was in his nose. Ryan tried not to look, tried to hold his

breath. He focussed on the boy in front of him and said, “No, you can’t have Fizz. Whoever you are,

you need to leave now. Leave us alone!”

A low laugh sounded within the room, rolling round the walls. The boy only smiled, but Ryan knew

it was him laughing. He recognised that laugh. “Whatever you are,” he said, speaking over that

mocking laughter. “No one cares. You’re nothing but a...a shit. You need to leave.”

The smile left his face. Fizz’s body snapped straight, standing before him. “No one speaks to me

like that.”

“Ryan!” someone hissed.

Ryan turned, seeing Matt had edged into the hallway, and was peering around the door. “Ryan, get

out of there!”

“Matt, stay back,” Ryan said. “I-I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

Ryan jerked his head back just in time to see Fizz move, but it was so fast, he couldn’t react. One

moment Fizz was standing there, the next Ryan felt something slam into him, like being smacked by a

steel door. He went down, his back hitting the floor. Fizz appeared over him, sitting on his chest. His

weight was crushingly heavy for someone of his size.

“Fizz, don’t –”

“Ahh, but I’m not Fizz, am I?” The boy smiled, a mean smile. His eyes moved to the side, focussed

on Ryan’s cheek. Ryan realised what he was looking at a mere moment before the familiar pain lashed

across his face. He cried out, closing his eyes. He tried to hit, to defend himself, but his limbs had

become sluggish, heavy. His body couldn’t move.

A hand turned his face gently. Ryan’s eyes flew open when he felt a rough tongue lick the side of

his cheek, lapping away the blood. “Stop it!” he pleaded. He didn’t want to look at Fizz, but then his

eyes saw the blood on the ceiling above. So much red; it bubbled, pulsed. Boiling. Ryan stilled,

terrified it was going to rain down on him again. That stench, it was too much.

I’m sorry, he thought miserably, thinking of Ginger out in the hall, and his friends. He’d failed

them all. In a last ditch attempt, Ryan tried to move, but it was hopeless. Like being trapped in a bad

dream, unable to make any part of his body obey. Fizz settled back on top of him. He licked his lips,

tonguing away the traces of Ryan’s blood, and smiled.

“Mmm, you taste good, Ryan. What is it about you? Something clear like...like water. Yes, that’s it.

You taste like water.”

Ryan stared at him. He couldn’t even begin to understand, but Fizz’s words gave him his only way

out. He had to keep the boy talking.

“W-what do you mean, water?”

“Mm. Calm, placid. But there’s a raging torrent beneath, isn’t there?” He chuckled darkly. “You

hide it well. Still waters run deep, as they say.”

Ryan swallowed. “T-that sounds like c-crap to me.”

Fizz threw his head back, laughing loudly. Ryan saw his chance and tried to move, but his limbs

wouldn’t cooperate. “Please.” He resorted to begging. “Please, let me go.”

“Oh, my dear, dear Ryan.” Fizz lowered down, bring himself nose to nose. “Maybe one day, you’ll

understand. I’m not a bad man, but I am rather...desperate.”

“Desperate?”

“Yes. I have to get out, Ryan. I can’t stand it any longer. No one here but demented old souls to chat

to. If I wasn’t dead already, I’d simply have to kill myself. I need more, Ryan. I hadn’t even lived my

life before they took it from me.”

“They?” Ryan squeaked.

“Hmm.” Fizz pulled back, studying him. “Should I show you? I showed the boy, and he felt so sorry

for me that he let me into his body. That’s why I’m here, you know. I didn’t take it, he gave it to me.

Silly fool was letting it go to waste anyway, so I thought, why not?”

“H-how can you say that?” Ryan breathed. “Fizz is a good kid. Leave him alone!”

“But what about me, Ryan?” The black vapour seeped from his eyes. The blood on the ceiling above

them raged and boiled. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair! I have to show you what happened. Maybe then

you’ll understand.”

“No, please, I –” Ryan gasped. His eyes widened and his vision grew, seeming to be everywhere at

once. As if he were the very walls looking in on the room, and yet still in its centre at the same time.

The room was transported back to a simple barrack room, with its single beds in rows, and neatly

folded sheets on top. A framed picture of King George hung on the farthest wall. It was night now; two